by P. G. Forte
There might be something to be said, after all, for not stripping away all one’s illusions.
Armand sighed. “Very well then. Since you’ve already spoken to Damian about this, I suggest you do so again. Ask him what he would think of your putting yourself at risk in this fashion. See what he has to say about that.”
“Oh, by all means,” Christian drawled angrily. “Yes. Ask Damian for advice. What a splendid idea. He’s nothing but a troublemaker. I wouldn’t count on a thing Damian says. It’s all lies.”
“It is not,” Julie replied fiercely. “For your information, I’d sooner count on Damian for something before I’d count on either of you two. So you just leave him out of this—both of you.”
Armand smiled wryly. “But, chérie, it was you who brought him up in the first place.”
“Why don’t we go inside now,” Christian suggested in a voice meant solely for Julie. “This is getting us nowhere and I don’t want to argue anymore.” He reached for her hand, clearly attempting to get back to where the two of them had been before Armand had interrupted them, but Julie had had enough. If the idea of taking Christian up to her bedroom had not exactly appealed to her before, it was infinitely less attractive now.
“Not tonight.” Julie slipped her hand from Christian’s grasp and hid it behind her back—an instinctive gesture, but so childish that it had her cheeks heating all over again. “Please, just go away. I’m not in the mood to spend any more time right now with either one of you.”
Christian hesitated for a moment longer, but then he sighed. “Very well. If that’s your decision, I will of course abide by it. Goodnight.”
Looking decidedly dejected, Christian turned and headed for the house. Julie sighed in relief. It didn’t last long. After all, Armand was still standing there, giving no indication that he had any intention of following Christian’s lead. Why was she not surprised?
“When are you going to start listening to what I say?” Julie demanded when the two of them were alone, glaring darkly at each other.
Armand smiled sadly. “I listen. I always listen. I just don’t always do what you want me to do. There is a difference, you know.”
“None that I can see.” Julie sighed. “I wish you’d stop treating me like a child. I’m getting sick of it.”
“Maybe I’d stop treating you like a child if you’d stop behaving like one.”
“Oh, very original. Gee, that’s clever. Tell me, did you actually manage to think that up all by yourself? I’m so impressed.”
“And that’s exactly what I’m talking about.” He shook his head. “Look, chérie, you can be as rude or angry or sarcastic as you like. But surely you’re not so blind that you don’t know by now that I always have your best interests at heart?”
“Here’s a newsflash for you. I’m not blind or deaf. And I’m not stupid either.”
“Good. Because if anyone needs to start listening, it’s you. Stay away from Christian. Is that understood?”
Really? He was issuing orders? “Give me one reason why I should. And it better be something other than, ‘because I said so’. Because that’s not gonna do it.”
“C’est vrai?” Armand laughed softly. “Imagine my surprise. Very well. How about, because he’s involved with Georgia? Surely you can see the sense in that? She is not the sort of person whose bad side you want to be on. It’s dangerous. Conrad can’t be everywhere, you know. He can’t always protect you—and neither can I. I sincerely hope you’re smart enough not to tempt fate again like you did tonight.”
“Christian says they’re not together like that anymore. He says it’s over between them.”
“What? You don’t really believe that, do you? Merde. You’re even more naïve than I thought.”
A hot flush rose in Julie’s cheeks. “Why shouldn’t I believe him? Just because you don’t? I keep telling you that I’m not involved with Conrad; you don’t believe that either.”
“That’s different.”
“Is it? How? How is it different?”
“Because we’re not talking about Conrad, that’s why!” Armand ran a not-quite-steady hand through his hair. “Look, you have no idea how Georgia might react if she were to catch you and Christian like I just did, with your tongues down each other’s throats.”
Julie blinked in surprise. “And you do?” Was there anyone he hadn’t slept with?
“Not exactly. But I don’t want to find out either. Rumor has it she’s so jealous she rarely allows her spawn to even leave her estate. That says something, don’t you think? Whereas Conrad…”
“Has no problem sending any of us away,” Julie finished for him. “Or leaving us behind. Or…or whatever. Is that what you were going to say?” It was true. And one more reminder of how much she and Armand had in common. They both knew what it was like to be abandoned.
Armand nodded. “Something like that. I was involved with him once too, you know.” His voice was so low she could barely hear the words. But the pain underlying them came through loud and clear.
“I know.” Of course she knew. It was one of many things she wished she didn’t know. No matter how attracted she was to Armand, how could she seriously consider sleeping with him? They were practically related! She sighed loudly in frustration. “Damn it, Armand.”
Armand looked surprised. “What now?”
“You just had to be involved with everyone back then, didn’t you?”
“Did I?” Armand frowned in confusion. “Everyone? I hardly think that’s an accurate assessment. What are we talking about anyway? When are we talking about? What’s that even supposed to mean?”
“Nothing. Forget it. I just… Oh, never mind.” She should never have brought it up. She was treading far too close to subjects that could never be mentioned. His past. His involvement with her mom, and his continued obsession with her, even now. All the things they could never talk about, never share, never hope to resolve. Taken on their own, they were maybe not so big a deal. Combined, they formed a hurdle Julie couldn’t get past. And that was without factoring in his relationship with Conrad, which was just its own separate world of weirdness.
If she were honest, that had always been Christian’s biggest advantage over Armand—over practically any other vampire that Julie had ever met. The fact that Christian had never been here before meant he’d never had the chance to potentially fall victim to her mother’s charms. The fact that he’d always belonged so absolutely to Georgia meant he probably didn’t have much of a past with Conrad either. Those two facts alone made him instantly more attractive.
No doubt Armand would think her childish to attach so much importance to something most vampires considered unimportant. Maybe, in time, she’d come to see things differently herself. But, as things stood now, she really couldn’t see herself dating one of her parents’ lovers. No matter how crazy he made her.
“The point I’m trying to make,” Armand continued, stubbornly taking up the argument once again, “is that you should be grateful that Conrad is not more jealous than he is. I’ve seen it when he is, you know. You don’t even want to know what that’s like.”
“I do know what it’s like.” She’d seen the proof. She’d heard the stories. If she closed her eyes, she could almost picture it. Hadn’t she just said as much? He really didn’t listen to her—certainly not that well.
“You do?” Armand’s brow furrowed, but his confused look lasted less than half a second. Then his face cleared. “Oh, right, Damian. Of course. Still, that’s not the same as witnessing it at firsthand.”
“You were here, weren’t you?” She shouldn’t be asking, but she couldn’t help herself. “Forty years ago. When Conrad lost his temper and…hurt someone. You were here.”
“How do you know about that?” Armand’s voice took on a suspicious note.
“Never mind that. It’s not important how
I know. Just…please. Tell me. Were you?”
Silence greeted her question. For the space of several slow heartbeats neither of them said anything. Then, “Oui,” Armand answered slowly. “I was here.”
“What happened?”
“Nothing more than what you already know. Conrad got angry. He lost control. Hurt someone. I’ve never seen him so furious. It was a very bad time for all of us.”
Julie swallowed hard before asking, “And…people died?”
“What? No, of course not. Someone was injured, as I said, but no one died. Or if they did, I didn’t hear about it. What made you think that?”
“What about that girl?” Julie demanded, suddenly breathless.
“What girl?”
“You know. Th-the one with the suitcase. She died, didn’t she? Was she involved in that?”
Armand’s eyes narrowed. “What is it about her that fascinates you so?”
“I could ask you the same question.” It wasn’t what she meant to say, but the words were out before Julie could stop them.
“Is it because you think you look like her?”
Julie stilled. “Do I?”
Armand shrugged. “A little, I suppose. What does Conrad have to say about it? I assume you’ve asked him all these questions as well?”
“Of course I haven’t! Conrad never wants to talk about any of it!”
“Doesn’t that tell you something? No one wishes to discuss it. And yet you still won’t let the subject go.”
Julie sighed. “Just…tell me. Please. It’s a simple enough question. Yes, or no. Was she there the night Conrad lost control, or wasn’t she?”
“Yes, as a matter of fact, she was involved. But I hope you’re not suggesting Conrad had anything to do with her death. You don’t think he killed her?”
“I don’t know. Did he?”
Armand’s eyes flashed. “Fais chier,” he muttered beneath his breath. “You are a fool.”
Julie’s temper snapped. “I know what that means, you know. And I’m getting real tired of your bullshit too. What kind of crap is this? I ask you a question, because it’s important to me. You dance around the subject without saying anything. Then you call me names and insult me because I still can’t figure things out. If I had the answers, Armand, I wouldn’t need to ask the questions. Why don’t you get that? This isn’t how friends behave.”
“Some questions are so silly they don’t deserve answers. Besides, friendship is a two-way street. You rarely ever answer any of my questions either.”
“Yeah, I guess you’re right. So maybe we’re not such great friends after all, huh?”
Armand’s lips tightened, but he said nothing in response. His refusal to contradict her, to fight for their friendship, to even suggest there was anything between them worth fighting for, was the last straw.
“Right.” She nodded sadly. “Well. That’s that, I guess.”
She was still growing accustomed to all the sad facts of vampire life. Like the way everyone’s personal relationships bore an uncomfortable resemblance to what she’d once expected to find only on a long-running daytime soap. Apparently, if you all lived long enough, then sooner or later everyone would eventually get around to sleeping with everyone else and even the most deathless-seeming OTP would someday come crashing to an end.
On the plus side, however, it seemed that broken hearts healed and life went on regardless. In time, all would be forgiven or, even more conveniently, forgotten.
Perhaps that’s the best she could reasonably hope for. Eventually, perhaps, Armand would forget how much he’d once loved her mother and Julie would forget how much it bothered her that he’d never really stopped.
Maybe someday. But definitely not tonight. She turned reluctantly toward the house.
“Wait,” Armand said at last, before she’d taken more than two trudging steps. “Hold on a minute.”
But Julie had had enough for one night. She shook her head. “I can’t do this with you anymore, Armand. I need a break.”
“Julie…”
She stopped then and turned back to face him, taking deep, calming breaths in an effort to steady her voice. “Remember how I said I’d decide for myself who I wanted to be involved with? Well, right now, that’s nobody. I just want to be left alone.”
Then she did leave. And he let her go…
He let her go! Julie had to stop to blink back the tears that were suddenly obscuring her vision. Sure, it was what she’d asked him to do. What right did she have to complain when he’d finally given her what she’d said she wanted? But for six months he’d fought with her over everything, from breaking up with Brennan to giving him her mother’s suitcase. Was it too much to hope for that he’d care enough to fight for her—for them—now? Apparently, the answer was yes. Which had to mean he considered “them” less important than pretty much anything else.
She pushed her gloomy thoughts aside and refocused on her surroundings. This was not the time to be getting distracted. Here on the street, all alone, with morning approaching—this was the kind of place she’d expect to encounter danger, not in Conrad’s front yard, where she was surrounded by family and others of her kind. No matter what Armand seemed to think.
Armand…
Her breath hitched and she tamped down her emotions even harder as she resumed walking. She was not going to think about him anymore. As of right now, they were over. As she came abreast of the parking lot, a car door opened and a figure emerged. Julie felt a surge of anger.
There you are, you son of a bitch. Let’s see what you’re up to.
She stopped again and sized him up. He was a big man, tall, and strong looking; in practically any other set of circumstances, Julie would have said he was just her type. He was also definitely human and apparently alone, which made him no match for her at all.
He reminded her of Brennan. Her heart leaped and twisted at the realization. Caught off-guard, she could not stem the cascade of emotions: anger, desire, anguish, grief. And loneliness. Oh, most definitely loneliness. Why must her heart always ache for the wrong person?
Wrong or not, she wished it were Brennan here with her tonight. She knew it wasn’t, but…damn it, if it had been him, if they’d stumbled across each other again like this—just an innocent accident, outside of anyone’s control—then whatever came of it, it wouldn’t be her fault. It would be kismet, destiny, fate. It would be Life itself throwing them back together again—obviously for a reason. And they’d be fools to let such a serendipitous opportunity go to waste.
Oh, if only it could be him. If only she could spend one more day in the safe haven of Brennan’s embrace. What wouldn’t she give for such a…for such a miracle?
But one day would lead to two, and then to three and before she knew it they’d be right back where they’d started. Clinging to each other. Dragging each other down. Hurting each other all over again—when all they’d ever really wanted was to make each other happy. Something they could only ever do by letting each other go.
“Excuse me, miss, can I speak to you for a minute? Is everything all right?”
Julie stifled a sigh. “Yeah, sure. Everything’s fine.” Not-Brennan took a few steps forward, as though to block her way. Julie bristled at the implied threat even as her heart twisted once more. She’d known all along it wasn’t Brennan, but Hope was a pathetic emotion—every bit as blind as either Love or Justice and twice as hard to kill.
Once again, her gaze roved over the stranger before her, taking in the uniform, the badge, the stern, somewhat irritated expression on his face, the stainless-steel travel mug clutched in one hand. The aroma of fresh coffee wafted from the mug. Hazelnut. That had been Brennan’s favorite too. He had brown eyes, not blue. And he was older than Brennan, old enough to be going gray at the temples. Probably close to her own age, actually. Not that she looked her age now. No
t that she would ever look her age again. “Is there something I can help you with, Officer…?” Her eyes flicked to his nametag. “Sullivan?”
“I was about to ask you the same thing. Do you need me to call you a cab, or maybe a tow-truck?”
Julie shook her head. “Nope. Not at all. Like I said, I’m fine. I was just out for a run.”
“At this time of night?”
You mean morning, Julie nearly corrected, stopping herself when she remembered that, for most people, darkness equaled night. “Yes,” she said instead. “Apparently so. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’d like to get back to it.”
He hesitated for a moment. “You know, it’s just a thought but, you might want to think about finding a better time and place to exercise. This late at night…the city can be a dangerous place. Especially for a…”
“For a woman?” she supplied helpfully, when his voice trailed off.
“At the risk of sounding sexist, yes.”
“Ah.” He was worried about her safety? How touching. She wanted to shake her head at the absurdity of it all. It seemed like everyone was worried about her safety now—even strangers on the street. It would be cute, if it weren’t so damn annoying.
“Well, thanks for the tip. But I think I’ll be okay. I’m just on my way home now anyway.” Although, suddenly, home was the last place she felt like going. She was lonely and heart-sore and hungry. And there was nothing waiting for her at home but more endless drama.
She moved in closer, close enough to catch the faint scent of his arousal. That was an unexpected treat. She could definitely work with that. She didn’t smell anyone else’s scent on him either. Also good. She glanced at his left hand. No ring? Even better.
“That is…I was going home. Unless you have a better idea. Like breakfast, perhaps? You’re not still on duty, are you?”
“No, I just got off a little while ago.” He gazed coolly at her for a moment, as though sizing her up. “You like living on the edge, don’t you? Do you always pick up men you run into on the street?”