“You really are old-fashioned,” she said, when what she actually wanted to say was ‘yes’, and ‘I love you, too.’ That no matter what he’d done, or the monster he used to be, he was perfect for her.
He eased his way inside of her, his hips rocking gently as he sank inside. He was big, hard, and careful with her, as though his movements were a representation of his promise that he would never hurt her.
“I love you,” he said, as he thrust inside of her. “For now, for tomorrow, and forever. You must remember that I love you, Valerie Dearborn.”
*****
Pain woke him in the night. He could hear Virginia’s voice like a whisper on the wind, calling to him. Demanding he wake up and come back to her. He grunted as more pain speared him, clutching his side and looked down, surprised not to see blood pouring from him.
“What’s wrong? Are you all right?” Valerie said, her voice husky from sleep. She touched his face, her hands hot on his skin.
“You can’t go! Do you understand me? I love you.”
She thought he was going to speak, going to tell her something, maybe that he loved her too or even that he wouldn’t go, but he didn’t.
And between one breath and the next, he was gone.
Chapter 23
“TIME TO wake up, my slaughterer. I think you have had enough rest. Your time has come to an end, Lucas.” Virginia said, and a dagger appeared in her hand. She touched it to his stomach, smiling when he flinched. He blinked rapidly and tried to settle himself, focus on what was to come. She liked it more if he lost it. If he could do nothing but scream, she was happy.
“There you are,” she murmured, as though he were a baby just waking up. She smiled, and he clenched his jaw, tried to brace himself for the pain as she shoved the blade deep inside of his stomach. He gasped, and blood instantly spilled out of his mouth.
“Oh, drat! I did it wrong.” She took a step back, hands on her hips as she stared at him unhappily. She reached out, yanking the dagger out of him with a sharp twist and making it vanish out of sight. “That didn’t hurt you enough.” And then she smiled at him, humming softly as she began to carve him up.
Chapter 24
RACHEL CAME back into the room. Trying to keep the impatience from her voice, she said, “It’s not here. You look,” she thrust the box at Marion. She smiled up at her woodenly. “Perhaps it’s at the castle. Check our apartments in Prague. Or perhaps New York? Oh piffle, just bring me all the jewelry boxes, and I’ll find it.”
Rachel’s lips thinned. “You don't want to go with me.”
Marion laughed weakly, “I'm so tired, my love.”
After a moment, Rachel nodded. “All right, I'll be back as soon as I can. And remember, if you hurt Jack in any way, Lucas will be furious.”
Marion smiled sweetly, but her eyes were bright with intent, “But my sweet, you are bound to him. If I hurt him, I would hurt you too.”
Rachel leaned in, giving her a small peck on the cheek, and vanished.
Marion peered into the jewelry box, silently fuming. Did they think she was stupid? The faithless bitch. To look her in the eye, demand the gem, and for what? If Lucas had wanted that stone, he would have come to get it himself. What could Rachel hope to accomplish? Her witchcraft was useless…unless she had found the book. She froze; the idea so seductive that for a moment, she couldn't even breathe.
Was that it? Had the book been found? If that was the case, there was only one person to ask. Pawing through her jewelry, she found one of Annika’s tokens. If she were alive, it would act as a summons, inviting her to come here. Marion stood, going to the fire and tossing the coin into it. What would she say to the woman after all this time?
The coin ignited with a purple flame, the scent of burned honey filling the room. A form appeared in the flame, and Marion stepped back, watching as the fire flicked higher, someone materializing within. Cerdewellyn stepped out, solidifying before her.
She pasted a smile onto her face. He was not who she expected. And lord knew he probably had no interest in seeing her either. Cuckolding tended to do that to a man. “Cerdewellyn! How charming.”
“Marion,” he said, giving her an incline of his head. “I am surprised to see you. But perhaps I should not be. I cannot imagine that too many of Annika’s tokens remain in the world.”
“And how is she?” Marion asked, making polite talk.
“Gone. Dead,” he said, tone conveying that he could care less. He was looking around the room, as though he found it interesting. When he saw the television, he frowned. It didn't surprise her that he would be a book-loving snob.
Annika was dead. Marion nodded. That sounded about right. Now they could move on to business. “I want to bargain, Cerdewellyn.”
He had the nerve to laugh, the condescending prig. His pitch-black chuckle filled the room. “Continue.”
“I assume you are looking for the Sard?”
He crossed his arms and said softly, “I am.”
“I will give you the gem if you restore my daughter. It is all I have ever wanted. I should have negotiated with you directly. Let my indiscretions with Annika remain in the past. I have no hatred for The Fey. Let your grievance with Lucas stay with him. I will not attack you, even if he commands it.”
Cerdewellyn’s dark eyes fairly twinkled. “He will not command it.”
She clutched at her heart. “What…has happened?” Was he dead? Was such a thing possible?
“Lucas is mine. His reign is over, and he is near to broken. He is close to telling me where the Sard is. I suppose that this is the answer I will get from him, is it? That the stone is with you?”
She nodded. “I come to you freely. Lucas threw me away after I challenged him, and it is only now that I have escaped. I mean you no ill-will, Cerdewellyn. Help me. Give me Margaret, and you can do what you will with the world.”
He watched her carefully, seeking signs of deception.
“I have been betrayed, Cerdewellyn. By everyone around me. Lucas. Rachel. All of them. Always betrayal.” She smiled wanly. “You understand. We can help each other.”
“Where is the jewel?” he asked.
She rolled her eyes. “Agree first.”
“I agree,” Cerdewellyn said with a smile and a shrug. There was something boyish about it, and she found herself blushing. She did love a handsome man. Maybe it was time for a change. She wished she’d looked in the mirror before she contacted him.
She smiled shyly in return. “It’s in my Margaret’s crypt.”
He held out an arm.
She took it, stroking his hard bicep and stepping close, as he took them away from the flat and to Margaret’s tomb.
Chapter 25
VALERIE WAS alone in her kitchen, sitting on the floor, and she had no idea why. Inexplicably, there were tears on her cheeks. She was sad, felt as if she’d been grieving and that all joy had been wrung from her. But that made no sense. She needed to get up off the floor and turn on the lights.
She stood, legs shaky and then ran to the sink, throwing up her dinner, her body heaving with spasms for several minutes. She was tired. She should go to bed. Start again tomorrow. Another day at school. Another day of thinking she was crazy.
Another day alone.
But she shouldn’t be alone.
Her nose started to bleed, and her vision swam. This was bullshit. And it was so dark in here that it was making her nuts. She ignored the blood, let it run down her face, and looked at the curtains with hatred. She wanted to open them, see what was outside. Val reached for them and started to gag, her head pounding, feeling as if it were being split open, and as if someone were scooping out her brains.
She had to know what was out there. She couldn’t stay here for a moment longer. He needed her. Who? She froze, listened intently as if the answer might suddenly be whispered in her ear.
She was here, and things were happening without her. He was dying.
Pain flashed through her, as though she'd b
een struck by lightning. “Who?” she asked her empty room. The answer was silence, her heart beating so loud in her ears that she wondered if she were dying. Valerie began to sweat, saw blood come out of her pores, as she gripped the curtain and held on tight. It took all of her strength to pull the curtain back. And outside was…the ocean. A barren gray landscape. A forgotten sea untouched by man.
What the fuck?
Her hand trembled as she flipped the latch, and she had to use all of her strength to pull it open. She opened the window with shaking hands and pulled herself up onto the counter, climbing out the window, handprints stark contrast to the white window frame. Cold air hit her as she fell down to the rocky ground.
The wind howled a name on the breeze: Lucas.
She hurt, felt like she couldn’t breathe. The sound of the waves. A shadow loomed over her. She blinked up at Virginia, saw her wearing another long dress. White and beautiful, as if it were her wedding day. Except that there was blood on the front of it. Black and heavy, saturating it so one side of the hem dragged on the ground, painting the steps behind her.
Everything came back to her in a rush, as if the dam of her memories had been opened. This was real. This bitch had taken her over. The young woman’s face was pale and pinched in anger. Virginia Dare.
“That’s Lucas’ blood,” Val said, knowing it in her heart.
“It is justice.”
“No.” Valerie said and felt fury, let it rise within her and grow, imagined it turning into a storm, something that crunched and swallowed, leaving only pieces behind it. The wind picked up and debris flew around them, branches, dust; even droplets of water from the sea. All the elements whirled around them, agitated and ready.
Virginia didn’t take her gaze from Valerie. “It is too late, Valerie Dearborn. Much too late for you,” she said. “You couldn’t win before, and you can’t win now. I tried to be nice to you. I gave you a life. Gave you a chance to have what you always wanted, and you couldn’t take it. Couldn’t enjoy what you had. Maybe you do not know how to be happy.”
Virginia had one hand behind her back, and now she brought it forward, showing Valerie a bloody knife. “He is dead. You are dead. This is over. I am the Queen of the Fey and have my king. Stay down, Valerie, and it won’t hurt so much.”
Valerie knew what she wanted. Lucas. Her life back. Even if that did mean monsters and danger. It was hers, and she’d live it. She rolled to the left and stood, standing on the balls of her feet, ready to move away if Virginia lunged at her.
“I will kill you unless you let my body go.”
Virginia shook her head slowly, a wicked grin on her lips. “You are not a killer. I know you better than you know yourself. You are a coward. In love with the devil. Indecisive and weak, unable to make a destiny.”
“Oh my God. You and your rambling about a destiny. Everything isn’t about you,” Val said, angrily. Virginia didn't know her. And if it took violence to prove that to her, then so be it.
“He screamed. Your monster. At the end, I looked like you, and he screamed. He called me Valerie.” She laughed and charged forward, slashing outwards with the knife.
She let Virginia rush her, shifting at the last minute, dropping to the ground and sweeping her feet out from under her, taking her to the ground. Virginia stared up at Valerie in shock as she tried to draw air into her lungs. This was her moment. She kicked Virginia hard in the stomach, heard her gasp out in pain as she rolled to her side, clutching her stomach.
Kill her. You have to kill her.
Virginia wasn’t a fighter. No one had taught her, and so now she was hurt, and she just lay there, tears running down her cheeks; unable to move.
She grabbed the knife from Virginia, having to wrangle it from her, elbowing her in the face before Virginia let go. As their hands made contact, Virginia showed her the past.
The last time she had been in this situation was when the queen had killed her. Her pure love for Cerdewellyn washed over her, and Valerie knew the enormity of what she was doing. Killing a young woman in love.
Virginia made a weak effort to punch Valerie, then kicked at her, but her legs were trapped under the weight of her skirts, and the kick was nothing. Pathetic.
She put the blade to Virginia’s throat. Virginia’s hands gripped hers, nails biting deep as she used all of her strength to try to keep the blade away from her neck. Valerie shoved down instead, the blade slamming into Virginia’s chest, piercing her in the heart and ending it all.
It was intimate and terrible, feeling Virginia's body underneath her, fighting to survive. Hearing her gasping breath, watching her bulging eyes plead with Valerie for mercy.
It took forever. It was over in a moment.
Valerie stumbled backward, off Virginia’s body, afraid that she would still be alive somehow, that she’d have to kill her again. But the body began to shrink, pulling in on itself like the corpses at Cerdewellyn’s table when he’d taken its power back into himself.
You did it for Lucas. He would do it for you.
Lucas would kill to protect her in a heartbeat. He would add that layer of sin to himself, even if he felt like he was so coated with evil that he was suffocating.
With a blink, Valerie was herself again, standing in a dungeon, her body limp but standing, supported by a strong chest. She knew that chest, would know him anywhere. She straightened and looked up, but he was pale and unmoving, his body covered with bloody wounds that showed no signs of healing. But he was a vampire. Surely, if he were dead, he’d disintegrate, wouldn’t he? She grabbed his head, tilting it backward so that the blood ran into his mouth.
“Release,” she commanded, and the buckles came undone; dropping his lifeless weight on her as he came down from the wall. She fell backward, and his dead weight pinned her to the ground. She pushed and shoved, trying to get out from under him. She turned him over and tried again, putting her wrist to his mouth, filling it with blood, and then she forced him to swallow, massaging his throat, looking for any sign of life.
She reached out to him with their connection, but it was as if he weren’t there. There was nothing to connect with. No! Please, no! She pushed harder, willing her life-force into him, trying to force her way into his veins. Through his non-beating heart and into his mind.
She caught a flash, like a lightbulb blowing out, illuminating his mind for a brief moment. She pushed again, sending her will into him…and Cerdewellyn’s too. The vines that were growing inside of her, twisting through her organs and making her like him; she used them too.
Suddenly, she could see Cerdewellyn, almost like a superimposed image over her view of Lucas, as he stopped speaking and looked up at her, a frown on his face. He was somewhere dark, with someone, but she didn’t know who. He was looking back at her curiously, wondering at the drain of power, but he didn’t fight her. She took as much as she needed, using herself as a conduit, giving Lucas strength. The strength to live.
Another flash. Then a spark. His heart beat once, a loud echo in her own body. Then it beat again.
It was as if he restarted, as if he had to remember everything he was and had been, to return to the present. And so his life went by her; a deck of cards flipped over one at a time: A boy in the snow, his horror when his father made him kill a pig, the joy of meeting his wife, the deep peace he had felt as a father. Then his grief and change to vampire, his wish for death…and then centuries of upheaval as he lost his purpose for revenge, then found it again…centuries of pain and anger, fleeting moments of sinful pleasure and the horror of his crimes. And then a barren wasteland of numbness, of disinterest, as though the true expanse of his soul was a desert.
To love Lucas was to know his past and what he was capable of. To see the horrors of his soul, and know that he could be more. To mourn the man he had been and wish it back. I love him. Clear as a bell, the knowledge rang through her.
As if the devil were listening, she saw herself next. The moment he met her, his pleasure at the taste o
f her blood, his uncertainty of what he would do with her. His lust and longing. His surprise that she was so different from the women he’d known.
She saw his actions through his eyes and didn’t flinch away. Not this time. When she opened her eyes, he was watching her. His body was healed, and he was looking at her as though expecting judgment.
“It’s me.”
His voice was hoarse. “You returned.” He did not touch her.
“I’m sorry. Sorry I was almost too late,” she said, not wanting to move away from him. The walls came up, a barrier in his mind that he used to shut her out, and keep himself apart. But in that second it took for him to lock his mind away, she’d seen the truth.
He wasn't sorry that she was almost too late. He wished she had been a moment longer, so he would have died and left her to a life without him. She shook her head, touched his face, even bent down to kiss his cold, dry lips. “I love you,” she said, and saw a tear fall onto his cheek.
“No.” He grabbed her wrist, pulling it from his cheek. “This is not a fantasy. Your dream is over.”
She shook her head in denial, brushing her fingers across his lips, so she didn't have to hear the words. She sounded desperate to her own ears. “I know the man you were, too. And that is who I love. We can find a way to make it work. You drink my blood; you stay…emotional,” she said, wishing for a better word, “And you’ll be fine.”
He hauled in a breath and closed his eyes, blocking her out. “I know you are not this naïve. We both understand what has to be done. If you…” A flash of agony spread across his face, and then his cerulean eyes returned to her, and her heart broke. “If you love me, then you will let me protect you.”
What was he telling her, that he wanted to die? He was willing to give up and leave her alone in order to protect her? If he died, her life wouldn't be worth living. It was that simple. Valerie started to cry, dropping her head down to his chest. She begged him to stay with her, and knew he could feel her thoughts.
Love Is Mortal Page 18