With that, he brushed his hands upward along her throat, past the rapidly healing wound Bryan had inflicted and into her hair. The silky curls parted and coiled around his fingers, warm and sensual. He lifted her face to his and kissed her. She tasted like honey mixed with the salty tears she’d shed over what she considered her betrayal of Bryan. It took only a moment to brand his own flavor on her and make her taste like desire. When he pulled back, she was blushing and breathless. “I need to erase the image of Lambert holding a gun to your head. I never want to feel that helpless again.”
She wrapped her arms around his neck and rose on her toes to kiss him again. “I can’t guarantee that, but I can certainly help you forget.”
“No potions or magick spells, please.”
“No potions…but there may be a little magick involved.”
He loved the sultry purr her voice had taken on, almost as much as he loved the startled gasp of pleasure she let out a moment later when he scooped her up in his arms. “Gypsy magick? That I’ll allow.”
Julian carried Zoe into the bedroom and tossed her among the tumble of pillows on her bed. She bounced and giggled. The tension of the day fled from her in a nervous bubble of laughter that momentarily washed away her concern for Bryan and the lingering threads of terror over Lambert’s threats.
They were safe. All of them. She could breathe now.
She lay boneless, weak with anticipation while Julian stripped off his shirt. He leveled a gaze at her that had her shivering with need. Even one hundred percent human, he could pull off the impaling vampire stare with amazing finesse.
He moved next to the bed and hovered over her. “Do you have any last words, Miss Boyd, before I ravage you?”
She narrowed her eyes and quirked her lips. “Bite me.”
This time, she meant it in the good way.
In only six months as a vampire, Bryan had learned to abhor the sunshine. The cheery golden glow of late morning mocked him now as he ambled up to the bank of mailboxes and door buzzers on the front façade of Tanya’s apartment building.
Still wearing his suit jacket, but with the collar turned up to ward off the light breeze and his tie spilling out of his pocket, he felt like a bum. After wandering all night through the rougher neighborhoods and stopping off at a bar or three for bourbon shots to calm his raw nerves, he smelled like one too.
At least he wasn’t drunk, though he’d considered that an option more than once through the night. Alcohol would dull the pain of being thrust back into the living, breathing world without warning. His chest ached from the beating of his heart, and his throat burned from dragging in the exhaust-filled city air all night long.
He should have gone home, thrust his pounding head under the hot shower spray and stayed there until he could stand being trapped in his own skin again. Instead, here he stood, finger poised over the button bearing the faded letters of Tanya’s last name. The first stop on his pilgrimage to regain the soul he’d so freely given away.
“Don’t bother ringing.” Her voice cut through the mental static in his head, and he pulled his hand away from the buzzer. She stood just next to the lobby door, wrapped in a pale blue bathrobe, her arms locked tight over her chest.
Face freshly scrubbed, her hair pulled back in a ponytail, she could have passed for a teenager—except for the look in her eyes.
Bryan hung his head. “Tanya. How did you know I was here?”
“I was looking out the window, and I saw you come around the corner.”
“Thanks for coming down. I don’t know if I have the strength to climb the stairs.” He forced a smile, a faint shift of cold-stiffened lips. It hurt.
She remained still, like a pillar of stone, showing no reaction to his anguish. “I came down because I wanted to hear what you had to say, but I didn’t want to invite you into my apartment.”
“Not a vampire anymore. Besides, that’s only a myth.”
“I don’t care what you are, Bryan. I don’t want you in my apartment.”
He’d have welcomed a stake through the heart. It would have hurt less. He deserved that cut, though. He’d taken advantage too many times. He’d fed on her and made her forget…toyed with letting her think he’d fallen in love with her, just to see the adoration glowing in her soft brown eyes.
“I understand.”
“Good. Then I won’t bother to explain it to you.” Her voice didn’t waver, but she bit her bottom lip to keep control. Since the fourth grade, that had been how she held back tears.
“I don’t know if I can ever make this up to you and Zoe.” He wanted to add that he owed them his life, but right now he wasn’t sure what that life was worth. He felt flattened, bloodless and more scared than he’d ever been. All the confidence Enoch Lambert had given him, the self-important arrogance, was less than a memory now.
“Did she forgive you?”
He hitched his shoulder against the bricks for support and studied the scuffed toes of his three-hundred dollar shoes. “Zoe? I haven’t seen her yet.” Once she’d made it safely into Julian Devlin’s arms, he’d left them, driven away and parked his SUV by the waterfront so he could walk off the double dose of self-loathing.
“You came here first?”
He nodded.
“I’m touched.” Before tonight, he’d never heard that hard edge in Tanya’s voice. It pierced him, and he supposed turnabout was fair play.
“Tan—”
She held up a hand. “Let me say it once, Bryan. Just let me say it once. I love you. I’ve loved you since you showed up in Mrs. Sherman’s class with a hole in your jeans and no laces in your sneakers and asked to borrow a pencil because you didn’t have any of your own.”
She let out a long, slow breath, and a bright tear glistened at the corner of one eye. He wanted to stop her, to beg her not to remind him of those days when he’d had only the kindness of his friends and their families to rely on. Unfortunately, the agony of remembering was the only thing that made him feel the least bit human.
Her voice rose as she continued. “If you were hurting, if you were lonely or scared, I would have done anything to help you, but you didn’t ask me. You went to some…monster, some creature instead. I can’t understand that, and I’m not going to try. I would have gotten over you sleeping with Zoe—”
That tear fell. It raced down her reddened cheek, and she swiped it away. He would have given anything to explain that deception, but at this point it didn’t matter. He knew what was coming, and no lame excuse he could make now would change it.
“This, I’ll never get over. I love you, Bryan. And I hate you, so please go away. I don’t want to see you again. Ever.”
He tasted salt on the tip of his tongue and used the heel of his palm to banish his own cold tears. There were no words he could think of to seal this rift or heal this hurt. “I’m sor—”
She was gone when he looked up. Stealthy as a vampire, she’d vanished, leaving a hole in his newly beating heart that would probably never close.
He could have stayed this way forever. With Zoe sleeping peacefully in his arms, her legs twined with his, her unruly curls tickling his chest. He’d never in his life felt this whole or this content.
Of course, it couldn’t last.
When the shadows in the corner of the room began to shimmer, Julian tensed. He’d never been prone to hallucinations, though he suspected at the moment he might not be a hundred percent lucid.
His arms tightened reflexively around Zoe, and she shifted against him. Unaware of his sudden concern, she remained asleep—angelic.
A body took shape in the corner of the bedroom, and Julian’s gaze flicked to the wooden stake that lay amid their discarded clothes. How quickly could he reach it? In a calculated move, he could vault out of bed and put himself between Zoe and the intruder, perhaps even before the being materialized completely.
Then the dark shape, draped in a crimson bathrobe, spoke, and Julian’s nervous tension became unbridled annoyance.
“Sorry to disturb your festivities.”
“Hester.” He sighed, and Zoe stirred. She blinked sleepily at him, and his heart did that flip-flop thing that he’d almost begun to get used to. A second later when the witch spoke again, Zoe’s lithe body stiffened. She clutched the rumpled blankets around her and sat up.
“Normally I wouldn’t dream of intruding, but I’m relaying a very important message.”
“Hes…Hester? How did you get—never mind.” Zoe ran a hand through her hair and pulled the blankets up a little higher. In defiance, Julian did little to cover his own nakedness. It wasn’t as if Hester hadn’t seen everything he owned. Then again perhaps modesty was in order at this point. He shifted to make sure his lower half wasn’t exposed to the witch’s perusal at the moment.
“A message that couldn’t wait until daylight?”
Hester smirked, but to her credit, she kept her faintly disapproving gaze locked on his. “I waited as long as I could. In fact, I peeked in a few hours ago, but you two were…quite busy.”
“Oh, my God.” Zoe’s voice was small, strangled. Julian should have been just as indignant, but instead he found her embarrassment amusing.
“We’re still busy, as far as I’m concerned. Whatever it is can wait.”
“It can’t. The Draconus wants to see you. ASAP.”
Julian’s shoulders drooped. “Fine. I’ll try to squeeze him in a week from Thursday.”
Hester crossed her arms over her chest and tapped one silk-slipper clad foot. “I don’t think so. He wants to see you now.”
“Do I have to keep reminding you that I’m not a witch, and therefore not subject to the Draconus’s juris—”
Mid-sentence he disappeared. There was actually a faint popping sound, and Zoe’s firm mattress dropped away from beneath him. Cold darkness closed around him and, for a moment, he endured the disconcerting feeling of falling from a great height.
Then his feet touched a smooth surface and his body came to rest, upright. He stood in a circle of yellow light in what appeared to be an empty, though garishly decorated throne room. Silk draperies in flowery hues hung on the walls, and the sound of wind chimes danced in the perfumed air. It was a sultan’s palace, opulent and ostentatious. Zoe would love the place.
Julian had been here before, just once, and he hadn’t liked it then, either. But at least that time he’d had the advantage of having his clothes with him.
Damn the Draconus. He hadn’t even allowed Julian to get dressed before summoning him out of bed. There was definitely going to be hell to pay this time.
Zoe jumped, utterly nonplussed by Julian’s abrupt departure. After fighting off the ridiculous urge to search the sheets for him, she glared at Hester. “Was that necessary?”
Hester grinned. “I wish I could say no, I did it just for my own amusement, but unfortunately, the Draconus was very explicit in his instructions. He wanted to see Julian immediately, and I held off as long as I could.”
Zoe huffed. “You could have called.”
“I did.” Hester glared back, but there was a hint of mischief in her eyes.
Hadn’t the phone rung several times during the night? Julian had playfully forbidden her to leave the bed to answer it. She blushed at the memory and shrugged. “Sorry.”
“Tell that to Julian when he gets back. He’s going to be furious.”
Zoe pulled the sheet tightly around her and managed to climb out of the bed with a modicum of grace. “Why’s that?”
Hester laughed. “Well, he’s naked, for one thing. And he has to go see the Draconus, whom he hates, for another.”
“What does the Draconus want to see him about?”
“Well, we’re all in a little bit of trouble. Now that Lambert is dust and Julian is human, that leaves a big hole in the Baltimore vampire hierarchy. On the rare occasion there’s not a smooth transition of power in a vampire line, things usually get a little out of hand, and that means problems for everyone.”
“What kind of problems?” Zoe’s spine tingled. Hadn’t they had enough problems in the last few days? With Lambert gone and Bryan devamped, everything was supposed to be fine.
“First of all, if vampires from other cities get wind of this, they might swoop in and try to take over. Vampire wars are bad for everyone. With no clear leader, there are no rules, and that means humans might be in danger—more so than normal. The Draconus plans to offer Julian his fangs and put him back in power.”
Zoe’s whole body went weak. A wave of fear mixed with defeat washed over her and drew her back down to sit on the edge of the bed. “What? Why…?”
“Someone has to do it. I’m sorry. Lambert would have been a bad vampire boss, but at least he would have been the boss. With him gone…someone has to be in charge.”
“There must be someone else available.” Zoe swallowed hard. After the night they’d spent together, she’d had several hours completely free of doubt that Julian would ever want to give up his humanity again. Of course, that was because there hadn’t been a chance for him to revamp.
“Not that Drac…uh…the Draconus trusts.”
“He trusts Julian?”
Hester shrugged and tossed a lock of her auburn hair over her shoulder. “Maybe trust isn’t the right word. Julian is the devil he knows.”
“But he won’t…Julian won’t. He’d have to give up his soul forever. He won’t do that.”
Hester sobered, and the sympathy in her eyes cut straight to Zoe’s heart. “He might not have a choice.”
By the time the high and mighty Draconus arrived in his audience chamber, Julian had paced himself into near exhaustion and cursed the entire Witches’ Council until his voice had begun to give out.
Now he stood seething in the center of the circle of light, his only consolation being that he’d torn one of the silken draperies from the wall and wrapped it around his middle in an effort to reclaim a shred of his lost dignity.
Drac appeared in a theatrical puff of white smoke that lingered around his black-robed shoulders. The squat, balding little man gave Julian a stern glance, laced with disapproval. “So nice of you to come.”
“Can the pleasantries, Drac. What do you want?”
The Draconus sighed and scratched his pointed beard. How such a creature had ever risen to the pinnacle of witchly importance was beyond Julian’s ability to comprehend. Nevertheless, despite his inauspicious appearance, he exuded power. It seemed to crackle in the air around him and, though he would never have admitted it, that made Julian just a little bit nervous.
“Ah, Julian. I’m so sorry to drag you here on such short notice, but I’m sure you can figure out now that Enoch Lambert is dead, we have a little bit of a problem.”
Julian smirked. He wasn’t naïve, nor was he particularly unconcerned. He just wasn’t in the mood to deal with it at the moment. “I’m sure it’s nothing you can’t handle. Now if you’d be so kind as to—”
Drac raised a bushy brow. “Oh no, no. You can’t just waltz out of this one. It’s too important. I’ve been keeping an eye on you, Julian, these last few days. I’ve seen the lengths you’ve gone to in order to protect Zoe, and I don’t think you’re about to let it all go to hell now. Are you?”
Julian didn’t need it to be spelled out for him. He saw the writing on the wall. Literally. Words began to appear on the wall behind the Draconus’s squat body, illuminated by the mysteriously recessed lighting from above. Julian recognized the dire prophecies of doom and gloom. They were quotations from the very books Anton Brae had kept in his secret libraries. The ancient spells that had given vampires their power, given witches leave to rule over certain aspects of life in every known realm.
“Look familiar?” Drac prompted.
“Of course. The original pledge. Anton translated it for me.”
“And you took the oath when he willed his power to you. You promised to uphold it.”
“And I have. All I gave Lambert were material things. He didn’t have
enough time to assume any real power.”
Drac nodded and swept around in a semi-circle to point at the glowing inscriptions. “Wise of you. Like a man confident that he would one day reclaim his place in the hierarchy.”
Julian nodded. It had always been in the back of his mind that one day he might best Lambert again, but only when he could be completely certain Zoe would be safe.
“So are you ready?”
“To become a vampire again?”
“You’re so smart. I often wish you’d been a witch. You could have gone far.”
Julian rolled his eyes. “I’m a victim of witchcraft, thank you very much. Would you mind telling Hester to keep her potions away from me in the future, by the way?”
“I have. I have. She’ll be punished for her part in all this.”
Julian glanced at Drac sharply. What punishment did Hester deserve? What ills could this capricious little man inflict on her? “What are you going to do to her?”
“Don’t worry. I’m a softy. I’m taking away her potion books for a whole year. The only thing she’ll be brewing for the next twelve months is herbal tea.”
Why that made Julian feel relieved, he couldn’t say. In his vampire days, he’d have demanded something far worse be done to a meddling witch. In fact, he’d have carried out the punishment himself. Nevertheless, he couldn’t resist a barb. “That’s it?”
Drac laughed. “You’re changing the subject. Back to your agreement with Anton Brae.”
Julian thought of his sire. His loyalty to the older vampire had been absolute. Even beyond his death, Julian had continued to conduct himself according to the rules Anton had put in place. Now, though, that space in his psyche that had held his allegiance to a dead vampire seemed to be empty. “I’ve kept the agreement.”
“In theory. But you’ve walked away from your responsibilities as a vampire.”
“Umm…in case you haven’t noticed…” Julian pointed to his rounded incisors. “I didn’t walk away from anything voluntarily.”
Uncross My Heart Page 23