by Nancy Gideon
And a look of sadness overcame Louis as he rubbed his cheek against Arabella’s hand, his eyes half-closed and lost to these reflections.
“Does he still exist?” she asked.
“I think so. I would have heard if he didn’t. Ours is a widespread yet small community, and word of our members is quick to travel through it.”
“And Bianca and Gerardo, did they never try to find you before this?”
“I think Bianca’s vanity prevented it. Or perhaps they’d heard I was with Eduard; I don’t know. I heard of them, of course, of how they staked out a territory in Paris and lived and fed well. I grew strong and skilled, and maybe that’s what kept them away, the fear that I would choose some sort of revenge. I had come to terms with my immortality and those thoughts never occurred to me.”
His gaze had uplifted, his eyes glowing with that soft green-gold mystery as he studied her pensive expression. He moved his lips across her knuckles. She didn’t pull away and he explored her fingers and palm with gentle sweeps of intensifying intimacy.
Arabella was far from immune to his tenderness. This was her husband, after all, the man who had initiated her in the ways of love. Though different now, he was too much the same for her to feel the revulsion she should have when he pressed his kisses upon her. He was a demon who admitted to thousands of relentless killings, and, at the same time, a soul helpless with fear of her disdain. She couldn’t hate him, no matter what he was, no matter what he confessed to.
“Why, then, if you were resigned to your fate, did you seek out my father?”
He was silent for a time, thinking of his answer before speaking it. “Eduard left me with a respect for humankind that I’ve not been able to dismiss. We are governed by laws beyond your world with heightened senses and unnatural power. We are detached from moral life, and, because of how we must survive, we harden ourselves to that which we once were, pretending we prefer a world that is cold and dark and lonely and the fact that we are being punished for our defiance of natural codes. There are some of my kind who delight in games of hunter and victim. We gloat about our superiority, when in truth we are lower beings who justify our existence with sins of ego and arrogance.
“I have never killed for the excitement of it. I have never stalked for the power it gives. I feed because I must to go on, and one day, I wondered why it was so important that I go on. Who was I that my continuance might be worth the lives of so many? I am no sage, no fount of wisdom, no mind of circumstance or artist of note. I am nothing but a vain noble who feared death more than a dignified departure for myself and my friend. I bartered my soul for an abnormal life, and having it brought no satisfaction.
“When I heard of your father’s work, I became obsessed with the idea of returning to that which I was. I had studied much toward this end in the meantime, had gathered much knowledge, but lacked the means of organizing and understanding it. I was not a man of medical science. I needed your father to show me how to make use of what I’d learned. I understood only the philosophical things; it is not the length but the quality of life that brings satisfaction. We learn of that too late, if at all. I had a chance to enjoy that quality again, and do not regret the risk, only the loss. There was such sweetness in knowing a human life again. Such a fragile beauty. I was a fool to think Gerardo would hold the same appreciation. I owed him the chance because I, a long time ago, took his life through my own weakness. He wasn’t interested in saving his mortal soul, but only in crushing mine. All that happened once before, happened again, and all that I’d gained, I lost.”
He fell silent again. His gaze lowered and she felt him studying the pattern of veins along her slender wrist. The idea that he was, stirred a strange thrill within her. And an impulse to press her wrist up to his mouth and bid him drink. Would he resist that dark drive if she did?
“What have you lost, Louis? Retrace the steps that brought you mortality.”
He looked up then. “I fear I have already lost you. Have I, Bella? Do you see me now as something too loathsome for you to love?”
“You’ve not lost me, Louis.”
His smile was small and cynical. “No?” And purposefully, he raised her arm, fitting his mouth against the inside of her wrist, letting his eyes flutter shut as he drew against her skin with a soft suction. Arabella gasped as a prickly sensation shot through her. She felt the stroke of his tongue along that sensitive flesh, then the sudden hardness of his teeth. And with a cry of fright, she jerked away and rubbed absently at that spot where the moisture of his breath lingered. He smiled again and it was such a defeated gesture. She understood then.
“You will never again trust me, Bella. You will never allow my touch without fearing its intent. I cannot imagine a loss as keen as that.”
And she sat staring at him through her tears, wondering how she could ever prove him wrong.
Chapter Twenty-One
ARABELLA LEFT HIM then, left him sitting on the edge of their bed with his mournful eyes and fatalistic smile. She went downstairs, treading quickly and cautiously down the steps, wondering at the same time if she would ever feel safe after sunset again.
Takeo had taken the bunches of herbs from the parlor to drape them at the windows. The bottle of fluid remained, along with the crosses and lengths of whitethorn. She picked up the vial, a cross, and the sharpened stake, and carried them back upstairs, listening as she hurried for the sound of unnatural footsteps behind her, foolish in her fear because she would never have heard Bianca or Gerardo if they were there.
Louis still sat where she had left him, looking abandoned and abject in his despair. His gaze touched upon those things in her hands and he said, in a heavy, inanimate voice, “You’re going to kill me.”
Arabella didn’t answer because she was distracted by purpose. She saw him stiffen when she unstopped the bottle.
“Holy water.”
He said it as if he feared she would throw it upon him.
“Is it true that those of your kind cannot cross its circle?”
“That or flowing water.”
And as he watched, curious now, as she began to pour, leaving a thin channel upon the floorboards that began at the head of their bed, circled about its foot, then continued around the other side. Louis came up on his knees. He panted slightly with agitation, the way an animal does when it sees a trap closing about it. There was an edge of wariness to him that came with the bane of his existence, and he followed her moves, suspicious of them and of her. Because he couldn’t believe she could be accepting of the thing that he was.
Arabella lifted the lamp from the far table and carried it toward the bed. She was startled by Louis’s reaction, by the way he scuttled back against the headboard, his features a complete void. His voice was a taut whisper.
“Don’t burn me.”
It took a moment for her to overcome her shock; then she set the lamp atop the nightstand, which had been her intention all along.
“It is you who do not trust me now, my lord. I have no plan to harm you.”
His eyes narrowed to a golden glitter. “Then why the unbroken circle?”
She smiled with supreme logic. “Why, Louis,” she explained, as if to a simple child, “that is not to keep you in, but rather to keep them out.”
His jaw slackened and she could see she’d surprised him. Taking advantage of it, she knelt on the bed beside him and leaned close to kiss him. As she lifted away, she could feel his breath racing lightly.
“What does this mean?” he asked, as if not daring to draw his own conclusions.
“It means I love you. I’ve loved you almost from the moment that I met you. I’ve loved you in both your worlds, but I am confused.”
“About what?”
“About where you stand now.”
“Somewhere in between, I would guess.” Then he told her what he
’d done, about drinking down all the powders at once. “I am like that shadow in the mirror. I don’t fully exist in either realm.”
“For how long?”
“I do not know. My abilities have dulled but have not disappeared. The daylight—I was able to tolerate it for a short time. There is a thread of humanity within me, but how secure, how strong, I cannot say.”
“Then we shall have to learn to trust in fate, and in each other.”
“Does this mean you wish to stay with me?” He sounded as if he couldn’t believe it.
“Yes.”
The doubt returned, a faint narrowing along his generous mouth. “Is it my dark kiss that holds you to me?”
“No. It’s something stronger. This.” She took his hand and pressed his palm above her heart so he could feel its eager beat. And then she asked, “Do you want me to stay?”
In answer, he kissed her, and it was not soft nor sweet and it didn’t end until she was gasping for air and composure. He came away slightly so that their lips were still enjoined with just a whisperlike touch and his eyes opened to delve deep into hers.
I love you, Bella.
She more than heard the words. She felt them caress along her skin like a warm breeze, seeping inside her to course along the pulse of her blood like a snapping current. And as her body woke to sensation, she was thinking of how it had been when he’d last made love to her, when he drank from her and introduced a spectacular new plane of paradise.
“Louis,” she murmured, with a scintillating stir of her mouth against his, “make love with me.”
He drew back slightly, just enough for her to sense his alarm, his uncertainty. “I—”
“You can, can’t you? I mean, you did. Don’t your kind—ummm, I mean, haven’t you—”
He smiled because her blush touched him so sweetly. “No, little one. Not since I was mortal. Not until you. I don’t know if it’s because we cannot, or because we don’t have the desire to.”
“Do you now? Have the desire?” And slowly, her palm moved over his chest, shifting crisp fabric over firm muscle. She felt his breathing alter, deepening, roughening, as her hand slid lower, pausing when she reached his lap, then stroking with an awed appreciation. “A most impressive answer, my lord.” Her voice rumbled with expectant passion.
“I cannot promise you that this is not due to your father’s powders and that the ability might wane with their effect.”
Her other hand was busy with his shirt studs. “Then let us not waste the ability while you have it.”
Sound reasoning, he agreed.
Soon they were down upon the sheets together, her body carrying him easily, eagerly wrapping him up in the tangle of her embrace, with the sharing of their breath. As his kisses grew more and more fevered, she said into them, “Louis, use your magic. Bring back the dream you used to entice me before we were wed.”
Louis hesitated and almost refused. Wasn’t what they’d already experienced enough for her? Didn’t she understand how dangerous it was, courting those dark emotions? How easy it was to slip from temptation out of control?
But then he lost himself looking down into her fervid gaze and saw that she was not discontent with what they had, but rather caught up in how much more there might be. His only wish was to please her, to dazzle her with what he was, to give her all she dreamed of... and more.
Hold my eyes with yours. Do not look away. Can you hear me?
Her lips parted in wonder.
Then answer me.
Yes. Yes, Louis. I hear you.
Reach out to me, Bella, and feel my thoughts even as you hear my words. That’s it. Embrace them with your mind. Hold them tight. Feel the texture of my emotions. Let them mingle with yours. Can you feel my heart beating close to yours?
Yes... oh, I can!
It’s a rhythm that will always beat as one; your heart and mine. Always. And you will always be able to reach out to me this way. To touch me this way. Let me have your thoughts, my love. Let me feel as you feel. Let there be no limits this time when we are one.
He filled her with one sure stroke and what was felt by one was shared by the other. Heat, friction, fullness, pushing, giving way. The mutual intensity made all sharp and searing and startling beyond belief. It took Louis a long minute to move because he’d been so shaken.
“So this is what it’s like for you. I’d wondered...”
“Magic,” Arabella whispered back in a tight little voice. And her eyes closed as sensation swelled. She opened all her senses to receive the surge of him within and the surge of experiences all around, the two combining with a truly marvelous harmony. She could hear the ragged pull of his breathing as if it issued from her own lips, could feel the urgent rip of his emotions and the answering ebb of her own. Sensual harmony, so exquisitely in tune. A flow as strong as the sea, a pulse like none other she’d known. Forceful cause tantalized by stirring effect.
It wasn’t just the carnal excitement; it was so much more than that. Her mind ran loose through his, picking up traces of his thought patterns, of his memories, so clear and bright, like the spin of a kaleidoscope. Breathtaking, soul-shaking feelings. His love for her, as strong as the beat of his heart. The sensation of her body hugging to his; wet heat and chafing urgency. Then she gasped as she snagged upon the razor edge of his hunger, sharing for a moment that consuming lust to bite and feed, recognizing the struggle to abstain when every instinct pressured fiercely. The scent of blood, pungent, rich, hot. Hers. She could feel his need, and she wanted to appease it. Had to ease it.
Her hand rose to clutch at the cross and with a jerk, snapped the silver chain. Her other hand clasped the back of his head, thrusting his face against the beckoning arch of her throat. She cried out as she shared the sharp mental spike of his thirst, the hypnotic draw of her heart beating fast in time with his. She experienced his moan of resistance down to the very depths of her soul and the roar of his weakness even as his mouth touched hot to her neck.
“Louis... please!” She was confused and dazed and wildly invigorated, sensations crashing and cresting over one another. She wasn’t sure what she was begging for, only that she needed it from him and needed it now. He’d started to open his mouth, filled with the driving instinct of his kind. Then Louis gasped in surprise as passion rushed and burst, wiping away all hints of hunger as it shot through him like lightning and rolled through her like thunder, a blinding, cataclysmic force. A perfect complement that clashed with splendid violence and merged in a culmination of pleasures. So intensely satisfying, the link between them was momentarily severed, leaving them to individually grapple with their disoriented bliss.
They lay in silence for a time, that sweet serenity after the devastation of a storm, with only the hurry of their breathing to mark the power of its passing.
“Louis, I will never, ever leave you, not as long as I live.” Arabella made that firm vow as his head rested heavy against her shoulder.
“Bella, you don’t know what it is you’re promising.”
“Yes, I do.”
“I cannot promise to keep you safe, from them or from myself. I cannot guarantee you a tomorrow.”
“I’m not asking for one.”
“But Arabella, you deserve so much better than that.”
“There is nothing better, Louis, than what you’ve shared with me. It’s you who don’t understand. I have lived my life in safety and mundane habit. I’ve been the plain and practical daughter of an ambitious man. I didn’t know life could be as filled with passion and pleasure as it’s been since I met you. You shook me from my dull platitudes like a shock of dangerous excitement, and nothing, Louis, nothing could ever happen that would make me regret my choice to be with you. So no matter what happens, don’t you dare feel a moment of guilt or remorse, because this is where I want to be. With you. And
I have never been happier.”
She could see he was shaken to speechlessness. So she kissed him tenderly to conclude the conversation. And she tightened the circle of her arms to coax him back down to her, where he lay all sleek and warm and hers.
After a time, he said, “I’ll get you a stronger chain.”
For the first time, Arabella was aware of the crucifix biting into her palm. She weighed it thoughtfully, then asked, “Would it harm me if you were to... drink from me again?”
His reply was very soft. “Not if I was careful.”
“Will you?”
“Be careful?”
“Drink.”
“Oh. I—” He broke off, apparently not knowing how to answer her.
“Will the bond between us stay this strong if you don’t?”
“It loses its intensity, but it will always be there between us.”
“Is it... pleasurable for you?”
“Yes.” Roughly said.
“Like making love?”
“Yes.” Even gruffer.
“Then we shall try it again as soon as I’m stronger. I’m not afraid, Louis, and I want so much to please you.”
She heard his sharp intake of breath. “Bella, I don’t expect you to—”
“I know.”
“I will not make a slave of you.”
“I shouldn’t think that would be so bad, being your slave.” And her fingertips teased down his chest as she said that. He shifted the angle of his head so he could look up at her, to catch the simmer of her smile. And he returned it.