by Lisa Morgan
The vampire raised his straining voice in frustration, “I’m sorry that I couldn’t keep that damn revenant son-of-a-bitch from you or Michel. It should’ve been me he struck down. I’m the one who’s damned!”
I took another step closer, stopping when he put his hand in the air to make me pause.
“Luc, it wasn’t your fault! You don’t have to—”
“But you know what I’m most sorry about, Maggie?” he interrupted me.
“I’m most sorry that—” His voice, full of a mixture of venom, sadness, and guilt, broke off. He dropped his face to the ground, running his hands through his hair.
“Most sorry for what?” I asked in a whisper. I couldn’t bare to see him like this. His deeply wounded emotions drifted off of him and fell on me like raindrops in a thunderstorm. I’d been locked away and suffering, while Luc had attempted to go on, with no one to turn to or lean on.
Maybe I felt a bond with him, or maybe I just didn’t have the energy in me, but I just couldn’t watch him fall apart.
Not Luc, not now.
He closed the distance between us in a single step, bringing his hands to cradle my face, his fingers entwining in my hair. Standing before me, his bangs fell forward as he looked down into my eyes. Slowly, Luc lowered his features to mine. The cool touch of hands holding me in place sent a shiver through my body as I bore witness to the silver shards dancing in his irises, and for a moment, there was only sadness.
Luc’s eyes searched me, and without warning, the cool touch of lips met mine. His hands held me to him as I closed my eyes, but I didn’t pull away.
His hand traveled to the nape of my neck and tilted my head so his mouth could better cover my own. I felt the softness of his tresses grace my cheek.
He ended the kiss slowly, and with his eyes still closed, he rested his forehead against mine.
Luc finished in a ragged whisper, “I’m most sorry because in spite of all that’s happened and all the pain you’re in, I cannot help but be in love with you.”
I couldn’t speak as I began to understand the vampire’s confession. My mind spun, unable to focus. It wasn’t until Luc bent down to kiss me again that I was jarred back to reality. I jerked away from him and took a step back to distance us.
“You bastard,” I whispered in horror, guilt flooding me. “Michel was your brother! I loved him more than I ever thought I could love anything! Michel—”
Luc stopped me with his words, as full of pain and torment as my own, “Is dead.”
He took a step away from me. “And I am a bastard, Maggie. I can’t deny that, any more than I can deny my feelings for you. The angels know I’ve tried. I tried to make bargains over and over again to take these feelings from me,” he confessed.
“Luc, I—”
He spoke earnestly, yet again interrupting me, “You love my brother in a way that I could only dream of. That kind of soul-filling, unending love that not even death can stop. I know it’s not mine to have.”
Without saying anything else, Luc turned and walked down the path to where his Ducati sat parked in the driveway.
Maybe it was the confusion, or shock of his kiss. Maybe I just didn’t want to feel sad or alone anymore. Whatever it was, it took control, driving my words and actions.
“Damn it, Luc!” I called out to him. He stopped mid-step, but didn’t face me. “Stop interrupting me!”
The prince laughed quietly before he slowly turned. Our eyes met, that smirk of a smile still hinting around his features.
“Don’t go,” I whispered my plea.
Luc looked at me, a tangle of emotions crossing his face, but he made no move toward me.
My feelings weren’t making sense. Michel was gone, and I knew I loved him. Then, afterward, Luc had told me to leave with my grandfather. He didn’t come to my room to see if I was even okay. He dared to try to take advantage of my pain for himself.
I should hate Luc. I should find a stray piece of wood and stake the vampire right now. But … I didn’t. I felt a sort of kindred spirit in him, and inexplicably, I found my feet taking me back toward him.
He stood motionless, his face a mask and not taking his eyes off mine.
“Maggie,” Luc spoke gently, stepping backward as I approached him, “I’m leaving.”
“What?” I asked, feeling the familiar emptiness creeping back inside of me.
“I can’t be here … with you. When I said I loved you, Maggie, I meant it. And damn me straight to Shadow for feeling this way, but I can’t stay here and see you and not want more. That’s—”
“That’s what?” I begged him for an explanation through my tears, confused by my own emotions.
“Maggie … that’s not something I’m strong enough to suffer, too.”
He turned from me and took the final few steps to his motorcycle. Swinging his leg over, he grasped the handlebars and took in a breath.
“Where are you going?” I questioned, wiping at the fresh taint of sadness that ran down my cheeks.
“I’m going to make a deal with the devil. Or worse, an angel. Whichever one will actually offer me assistance,” Luc mocked, looking at me.
I looked at Luc, and for the first time, I really saw him. He wasn’t the emotionless clown I’d always taken him for. He wasn’t closed off or hidden away. I felt the apprehension within him, could feel his fear and his pain.
But most of all, I could feel his love for me. It rolled from him as strong as a hurricane and took my breath away.
My feet were moving on their own, running to the vampire who sat on the motorcycle, looking down at the gas tank.
Reaching out and grabbing his arm, I stammered, barely audible, “When will you return?”
Luc looked at me with determination written over his face. “I don’t know, Maggie. I may never return. By the angels, it’d be easier on me if I could never have to stand this close to you again and know I can’t hold your heart.”
I shuddered as Luc removed the small dagger from his boot and ran it across his hand while he spoke words that would seal his vow.
“But by my blood,” Luc recited, “I will return to you the love you’ve lost.” Squeezing his hand tightly, I watched the drops fall to the gravel beneath him.
“Luc,” I whispered.
He finished in a whisper as he held my gaze, “By my blood, I promise you that.”
I let go of his arm and stepped away as the motorcycle roared to life. With a twist of his palm, gas rushed to the engine and it rumbled louder.
My tears fell unheeded. This was a suicide mission for Luc; somehow, I knew this for certain. Michel was dead, lying in the palace and being guarded until he became ashes. Now Luc was determined to get himself killed, too.
My blood, which the revenants wanted so badly, the only magick powerful enough to bring them fully to life, boiled inside me. What good was having this power if the people I desperately cared for would suffer because of it?
My life force—the perfect tincture of power and poison.
“And, Maggie?” he called to me over the roar of the engine.
“Don’t do anything stupid.”
Not waiting for my response, Luc pushed off the gravel and sped away down the driveway.
Forty Five
I stood, watching the dust settle. The taste of Luc lingered on my lips, and thoughtlessly, I pressed my fingertips to the dwindling coolness he’d left behind.
“Luc,” I whispered aloud.
Like a knife though my stomach, I dropped to my knees, staring down the direction he’d left. The quiet left behind by the absence of his motorcycle enveloped me.
My hand, still to my lips, shook as the other touched my chest, falling to the charm Liam had given me; the one that led Michel, Luc, and the others to find me when Ossa had bound me to that altar, ready to take my life.
It felt like years had passed since the girl I’d been wandered into the music store. She’d been entranced by a melody, not knowing then what she knew now.
Decades must have passed since I’d been that naïve girl.
I absently rose to my feet and walked to sit in the garden. Picking up the book Luc had given me, I simply stared at the frazzled cover.
I was startled by a soft caress on my shoulder. I turned and met Liam’s heartfelt expression looking back at me. I attempted a smile and failed.
“How long have you been there?” I asked quietly.
“Long enough,” he responded gently. “You’re suffering much, Margaret. More than anyone your age should have to. For that, I apologize.”
Gesturing to the book, Liam spoke, “I found it,” he explained, “the night Ossa—”
Looking away from my grandfather’s expression, I slowly opened the cover. It was a diary, fine calligraphy decorating the pages.
“It’s in English,” I commented with surprise. I thumbed through it, feeling a little guilty at holding someone’s private thoughts in my hands. I noticed something fall from one of the pages. Bending to retrieve it, I discovered it was an old photograph that had slipped free.
A man and woman sat together, apparently having a picnic. His hair was tousled, and I wondered if a breeze had been blowing when the shot was taken. The woman beside him was beautiful and so full of life, her smile beaming back at me as I studied the picture.
Maggie …
“I know this woman,” I said, remembering a dream I’d had. Mountains mirrored off a calm lake.
I looked closer at the photo. Tiny white flowers surrounded the happy couple that had posed for the shot. “The flowers … I’ve seen these flowers, too.”
“Your mother planted them,” Liam told me.
Maggie …
“What are they?” I begged my grandfather, urgency filling me.
“Myosotis alpestris,” Liam answered, an odd expression of confusion crossing his face.
Maggie …
“Most people don’t call them by their scientific name,” Liam explained. “They’re more commonly referred to as forget-me-nots.”
Mom?
“It was her,” I whispered in certainty, looking to my grandfather. “The voice I heard in the garden, the woman who helped me. I heard her voice before the battle, telling me that my power would come to me when I needed it. Grandfather, where is she?”
“I’m sorry, Maggie,” he answered, sounding amazed by my recognition. “I … I don’t know. She disappeared. We searched for her, but never found any trace.”
“You’re sorry?” I shot back. “I’ve wept and fought and struggled. I’ve heard my mother’s voice trying to offer help to me, not knowing it was even her! I lost the guy I love, and what good did it do any of us? And all you can say to me is you’re sorry?”
“Margaret,” my grandfather spoke kindly, attempting to soothe me.
I recoiled. “No! Tell me, Liam? How did any of what I did make a difference? How did I save The Realm or the human world? How did I save my mother, or Autumn’s mother, or Michel?”
“You did not,” he responded, as soothing as he’d been when he said my name.
“Then why should I give a damn about any of it?” I couldn’t control it anymore. Flames erupted, burning a fierce magenta. They stretched higher than I’d ever seen, dancing and licking at the sky.
Liam stood and backed away, watching as all my emotions manifested themselves in the flames—vivid greens, blues, and reds, all for a different emotion traveling through me.
I sobbed loudly, tears sizzling as they ran down my cheeks, but I wouldn’t try to temper them. I was shaking violently and hugging myself around the waist. My body rocked and the fire followed along.
I could feel the heat wrapping itself around me like armor, trying to protect me from the hurt, trying to incinerate all of my pain. The flames burned to soothe me. I could feel them inside me, trying to solder my broken heart.
The flames died down to embers as my suffering slowly subsided. I’d thought myself out of tears, but I’d been wrong. As I finally regained some composure, the flames flickered out completely.
“This isn’t over,” Liam said, offering me his hand. I sniffed in the mess that threatened to escape my nose and took his hand, allowing him to pull me up.
“This was never going to be a one-and-done situation,” he pressed. “The revenants regroup, formulating their next plan of attack. Our world asks much of you, granddaughter.”
“Your world,” I corrected him bitterly. I was prepared to walk away from it all. Ready to curl up and let the revenants bleed me dry and do what they would with it.
My grandfather bowed his head slightly. “This world is also part of you, Margaret. Could you so easily put it behind you and let those you care about be consumed?”
“No,” I whispered back, feeling ashamed that the idea of tucking tail and running, even for a second, had crossed my mind.
“There are those of us near you that care deeply for you. I count myself among them,” he returned reassuringly.
I sniffled, wiping at my face. “I’ve lost so much already, I couldn’t bear to lose more. I don’t know if I have the strength to do what everyone is asking of me.”
Liam was troubled by my admission, and when I looked at him, a shadow crossed his face. With an inhale, he took my chin in his hand, looking at me in all seriousness.
“Margaret,” he spoke stone-faced.
“I’m sorry,” I managed, trying to look away, but he held me there, wishing to finish his thought. It was with a great deal of reluctance that he finally spoke again.
“What if I told you … what if I told you there could be a way, a chance, you could bring back what you’ve lost?” I watched his eyes on me and felt the weight behind his words.
“Don’t make the mistake of thinking it would be easy,” Liam explained, an air of doom lingering as he spoke. “All you have done thus far, the things you have seen and experienced, they won’t even compare to the feat you’d have to accomplish in this endeavor.”
I listened to his warning even as a glimmer of hope appeared; the hope I’d searched for before I’d left Michel’s body.
“This journey would be ripe with danger. You’d have to tread a path where even the revenants fear to step. And there is no guarantee of success.
“Tell me, Margaret, is that a chance you’re willing to take to try to get the answers you’re seeking? A risk you would take to bring back the vampire whom holds your heart? Consider your answer wisely, granddaughter. Once started down this path, you lose all option of turning back.”
It didn’t matter what I had to do. If there was even a sliver of a chance that I could bring Michel back to me, back to Luc, it was a chance I had to take. My heart fluttered in my chest, and I felt tiny flames spring to life in my pupils, dancing with a determined purpose.
There was nothing to consider.
Looking at my grandfather, I stood and steeled myself firmly to the ground.
Liam, seeming to sense my choice, looked at me with eyes that shimmered as if he may shed a tear.
“Are you sure?” he questioned once more time, sternly. “If you choose this venture, I cannot offer assistance once you set out. Moreover, are you sure your vampire would wish this of you?”
My vampire.
Those words reinforced my decision. I would deal with Michel’s anger at my stupidity when he was back in my arms. If I could bring him back, if I could find out what happened to my mother, there was nothing I wasn’t prepared to do.
Reading my face and knowing my choice, Liam exhaled with difficulty, and for a split second, I questioned myself. With a deep breath, I scrubbed all apprehension from my mind. There was to be no doubt.
I would bring Michel, and my answers back … at any price.
“This I feared. Come with me, Maggie. There’s much to be done if you are to do this,” Liam urged with a hint of trepidation in his voice. Turning, he began making his way back toward the porch.
I paused to search where Luc had driven away. My heart panged, thinking of th
e kiss we’d shared. I’d bring his brother back to him. Luc would know he hadn’t lost everything and that would show him that what he thought he felt for me was nothing but an attempt to not feel alone.
I thought I heard the roar of his motorcycle engine behind the trees at the end of the driveway. Peering more closely toward the road, I searched for the sound, but found nothing.
“Granddaughter?” Liam questioned, the prospect that I’d waffled my decision in his words.
He didn’t want me to do this, but my heart pushed me ahead as I walked to him. I stopped at the bottom of the steps and looked up at Liam for the information I needed.
“Tell me, what do I have to do?”
Forty Six
Luc
Keep going, damnit …
I pushed on the throttle, careful to not throw stones back at Maggie as I departed. I needed to get the hell away from her, and fast, before I had the idiotic idea of caving into my emotions and staying there with her.
I made a vow by my blood that I’d find a way to bring Michel back to her. She’s in love with him and his loss is ripping her apart. If my heart functioned like hers, it would have broken when I’d watched her clutch to him, begging him to stay with her as life left him.
So why did you kiss her? My conscience asked me.
Because I couldn’t stop myself. I’d had one chance, only one opportunity, and I had to seize it. Michel would kill me, skin me alive …
But he isn’t here right now, is he?
You. Bastard.
Yeah, that’s me.
I got to the end of the driveway and spared a glance in my side mirror. She was still standing there, her hand pressed to her lips.
Walk away, Maggie, my brain screamed silently. Don’t stand there waiting for me. Wash that kiss from your thoughts. Make it go away.
Make me go away.
I headed onto the road, the engine rumbling beneath me, telling myself I’ll forget the taste of her lips pressed against mine and softly staining my own with the hint of salt from the tears she’d tried so hard to keep to herself.
Tears for my brother.
Damnit, Luc! What the hell’s the matter with you?
I pulled the bike to the side of the road, hidden from The Trust’s view by the forest. I sat upright, my hands on my hips as the Ducati idled. I closed my eyes, blackening my sight to the world around me, and there she was—with red hair a mess, blue eyes reflecting the sunshine, bare feet in the grass; perfection that rivaled Michelangelo.