Thunder and Lightning

by Calista Fox

  To them? To him? To her?

  “Can you help me, please? To the bed?”

  He scooped her up carefully in his arms, gathering her close, though mindful of her new fragility. And all those purple marks marring her bronze skin. Especially between her legs and on her hips. Placing her gently on the bed, he pulled the duvet around her. She leaned back into the pillows and stared at him a moment, as though she was still processing all that had transpired in the last half hour. He sat on the edge of the bed, watching her watch him.

  Finally, a wry smile touched her lips. “This is ironic.”

  “What is?” He reached out to her and brushed strands of her hair from her wet cheeks.

  “I was going to tell you my story. Tonight. I thought you were mortal and I wanted to be mortal too. So we wouldn’t have to part in the morning. So we could be together.” She shook her head and let out a sharp laugh. “I didn’t know what would happen if I did, though. I mean, I know the ‘rules’. I’m a descendant of the Aztec rain god Tlaloc.” Her gaze shifted to the patio doors. The rain had stopped, the storm had retreated. The night was quiet.

  “Did you…?” No, of course not.

  But she nodded. “Start the storm? Yes. The first day I arrived in Savannah. The very second I laid eyes on you. Because of my attraction to you. It’s part of who I am—was.”

  “How’d you lose your immortality? I don’t understand, Bev.”

  “Part and parcel of the gift. Secrecy is key. It’s how immortals exist in this world. You know that.”

  He conceded the valid point with a nod.

  “I’ve kept my secret for six hundred years. It was destined to come out eventually. Too hard to hide it as the world changes.”

  “Six hundred… Jesus,” he said and let out a low whistle. “You’re damned old, baby.”

  She laughed softly, despite the dire predicament. “And how old are you?”

  “Two hundred and change.”

  “Mm, that makes me the oldest cougar in existence.”

  One side of his sexy mouth jerked up. “Interesting twist.”

  “What I didn’t know,” she continued on, “Was what would happen as soon as someone found out about me. How fast the aging process would catch up with me. How long I’d have…”

  Guilt seized him as he grasped the full implication of what had happened tonight. “Christ, Bev. I’m so sorry. I’ve condemned you to—”

  “No!” She reached for him, gripping his biceps. “I was going to tell you, remember? It doesn’t matter how you found out. It was inevitable. And obviously I’m not shriveling up and blowing away just yet, so that must mean I have some time on my side.”

  His eyes narrowed on her. His gut twisted. “I agonized over how little time we’d have together when I thought you were mortal. And then I realized you weren’t and I…” Words failed him. There was no describing how elated he’d been to know he couldn’t hurt her and that he’d never lose her. That they could spend an eternity together.

  Only to have that bubble burst as quickly as it’d swelled.

  “Fuck.” He moved away from her and began to pace again. “You’re dying.”

  “Yes.”

  “And I could easily kill you if I stayed with you.”

  “No. You fought it.”

  “I cut you.”

  “It was an accident and we both know it.”

  “But your blood…” He whirled around and faced her. “When you were immortal, it had no flavor to it. Now that you’re mortal, that’ll change. And I’ll crave it.”

  She stared at him a moment as something seemed to occur to her. Something dark and mysterious and…

  “No,” he was quick to say, shaking his head vehemently. Realization dawned all too quickly for him. “Don’t even travel that path, Bev. I can’t. I won’t!”

  “But you could save me,” she said in a frank tone. As though she’d already made up her mind.

  “Not the way you’re thinking. I won’t damn your soul for all of eternity.”

  “Cane,” she said, her eyes lighting up. “It would change everything. I’d be strong again. Immortal. Without the threat looming over me that it might be taken away some day. You wouldn’t be able to hurt me. You wouldn’t want my blood.”

  “You seriously want me to make you a vampire?”

  “It’s our only hope.”

  And damned if he didn’t know it.

  Yet it was impossible. He refused to do it. He’d sworn after Amy that he’d never turn a human again. He’d tried to help the girl and had only made her existence a living hell—a worse nightmare than before he’d turned her because as a mortal, the possibility to kill herself existed every day. As an immortal…not so much. Cane still hadn’t fully forgiven himself, had worked damn hard to redeem himself.

  So to curse Bev, the woman he loved… No. It was completely and wholly inconceivable.

  “It’s out of the question,” he said, his tone firm, holding a note of finality. “Don’t ask again.”

  “You’re being stubborn and unreasonable.”

  “You have no idea what I went through when I changed. No idea what I went through with A— Just know I can’t do this, Bev. Especially not to you.”

  “Fine,” she said as she crossed her arms over her chest. And winced from the pain that obviously still plagued her.

  Making him cringe.

  “You’ll just have to be more careful with me,” she continued on. In a tone meant to sway him, he was sure. “I’m mortal now. You won’t be able to make love to me the way you did tonight.”

  “Nice tactic,” he said in a dry tone. “But the answer’s still no.”

  “Jesus.” She rolled her eyes. “When you dig your heels in, you damn near root yourself.”

  “Not ‘damn near’,” he countered. “I’m serious about this, Bev.”

  “We’ll see,” she added, almost under her breath.

  He considered telling her about Amy. Surely she’d understand and wouldn’t ever bring this up again.

  Didn’t she know that not turning her when he knew he could—and they’d have the rest of eternity together if he did—was just as painful as if he broke his oath to himself and did the deed? There was nothing easy or fair about this situation. He was already remorseful and angry with himself for inadvertently having changed her fate. Stolen centuries from her. To top it off, she was bruised and battered because of the way he’d made love to her. Because as an immortal, she’d been strong and able to withstand his passion. But as a mortal… No way.

  She was right. He really would have to be more careful with her.

  Or stay away from her altogether.

  Back to that moral dilemma. The one he hadn’t wanted to face all evening. He’d wanted to make love to her over and over again, make their one night together last as long as he could. Then he’d leave. Leave town. Leave Bev. Leave everything he’d ever wanted, needed and desired far behind.

  Europe. He’d intended to go back. He’d made up his mind when they were talking about the complexity of their situation earlier, not fully knowing how the other was truly impacted by this unexpected romance. This passionate love.

  Damn it. He really did love her. And it would be the worst kind of torture to live without her. To worry over her. To learn, someday, that she was gone for good.

  Dead.

  How would he ever live with that?

  His fists clenched at his sides.

  No, the worst torture would be if he turned her and she despised him in the end for doing it.

  The way Amy did.

  “The sun’s coming up.”

  Bev’s soft voice penetrated his dark, dismal thoughts. His head snapped up and he stared at her. So beautiful. So fragile. So perfect, even as a mortal.

  “Even my closet has a skylight,” she said. “There’s no escaping the sun in this house.”

  He nodded. “I can’t take you with me. It might terrify you. To see me during the day.”

  �
�It wouldn’t. You’d still be you. But I’ll stay here. Moving isn’t really an option right now.”

  He sat back down on the edge of the mattress, carefully. His fingers swept over her jaw up to her warm cheek. “It kills me to know you’re in pain.”

  “It’ll pass. I don’t feel like there’s an excessive speed to the inevitable deterioration of my body. My guess is I’ll heal just fine. Only infinitely slower than I’m accustomed to.”

  His gaze dropped to her hand. The one that been sliced open by the kitchen knife a week ago. “You really will have to be careful, Bev. Please. For me.”

  She smiled. “We wouldn’t have to worry about that if you—”

  “No.” He stood. “Try to rest. I don’t suppose you have any painkillers?”

  “Never needed them. I don’t even have a first-aid kit. I lied about that, sorry.”

  “Necessity,” he said, understanding completely. “I may not be as old as you, but I’ve been around long enough to know the drill.”

  “You don’t have to rub that in, you know?”

  “I can get a little mileage out of it. I’ve never made love to a six-hundred-year-old woman.”

  “You can be an ass sometimes.”

  “Sometimes.” He winked at her. Then he leaned down and brushed his lips gingerly across her forehead, suspecting even her lips ached from his fervent attention. “Sleep, okay? And I’ll be back tonight.”

  “Will you?” she asked. Her eyes locked with his, searching them. Already anticipating his necessary lie.

  “Yes.”

  “I love you,” she said, clearly knowing the impact that would have on him. On his decision to leave her. If he allowed it to. “I always will. Forever. Even long after I’m gone.”

  “And I’ll love you long after you’re gone.” A fate worse than death, actually.

  Her mouth gaped. “I forgot…how the pain of loving someone no longer with you can haunt you for the rest of your existence. To mourn for them for centuries…” She shook her head, contrite. “I’m sorry. There’s absolutely no humor to be found in any of this, no matter how hard we try.”

  She clutched the duvet to her bare chest and reminded him, with sorrow in her eyes, “Sun’s coming up.”

  There would be shadows in the courtyard from the tall oak trees. But he needed to go now anyway. Before he caved. Before that forlorn look on her face and the idea of spending an eternity without her made him give into her request. It was what she thought she wanted. And even though he would give her anything she ever asked of him, this was one thing he had to hold his ground on. To turn her would be selfish and self-serving. And if she loathed him in the end, it’d kill him.

  “Sleep,” he repeated, fighting back the wave of emotion that threatened to consume him as intensely as his passion had.

  She settled deeper into the bed against the pile of plump pillows, closing her eyes and drawing a breath.

  Cane turned to go. His clothes were downstairs. He’d collect them on his way out the west side door that faced his house. As he passed under the doorway of her bedroom, she whispered, “Promise me.”

  “I promise.”

  They both knew it was a vow he wouldn’t—couldn’t—keep.

  Chapter Nine

  The void within her was palpable. Painful. The worst kind of torture she’d ever known.

  It had nothing to do with her sudden mortality and fragility and everything to do with losing Cane.

  He wouldn’t come back for her. She knew he’d spend the day making arrangements and come nightfall he’d be long gone. Hadn’t that been her initial plan when she was immortal and thought him to be a mortal human being?

  Ironic, indeed.

  And the most horrific twist of fate.

  Helplessness and despair crept up on her, two emotions she’d never indulged in. Had never allowed herself to be in a position to experience. She’d never wanted to lose her heart because this was the end result. It was impossible to make a relationship work when one was immortal and the other wasn’t. And it was even more complicated and dangerous because Cane was a vampire. He was deadly.

  He was also her salvation.

  Christ! As if she needed fate to mock her further!

  Squeezing her eyes shut, she tried to tamp down all the dismal feelings welling inside her. Tried to think, concentrate, focus. On finding a solution. Because there had to be one. How could two people love each other this passionately—physically as well as emotionally—and not find a way to be together?

  He’s a vampire. You’re a mortal. Dream on.

  No!

  She’d never been the cynical type. She wouldn’t start now, even if the hourglass that was her life had been flipped over and the sand was slowly running out.

  There had to be a way.

  As she thought about Cane and the evening they’d spent together, the fiery intimacy they’d shared, she worried that her battered body would torment and haunt him. It was certainly an enormous wake-up call to know what her mortal body couldn’t withstand. Another point that was not in her favor.

  As if she and Cane could make love delicately.

  Not a chance in hell!

  There was way too much passion between them. Too much fire and desire.

  Damn, she wasn’t helping her plight to keep them together.

  Stifling a yawn and wishing she had something to help take the edge off the throbbing of the bruises, she hoped she was wrong about Cane. That he wouldn’t break his promise. That he’d come back tonight.

  He had to come back tonight.

  Or perhaps she’d go to him, just before dusk so he couldn’t avoid her, because he wouldn’t leave the house until the sun set.

  Yes. That was a good plan. Proactive.

  Another yawn. And then a wave of exhaustion consumed her. She was beat.

  Minutes later, Bev was fast asleep.

  * * * * *

  Only to be awoken some time later by the most excruciating pain in her neck. She let out a shrill cry as her throat burned and her mind blurred.

  What the hell?

  Her hand flew to her neck as an insidious laugh filled her quiet room. She hadn’t turned the light off before falling asleep and her eyes snapped to the far corner where a dark figure stood. It was nighttime already—Bev had slept the whole day.

  Beneath her fingers, she felt the warm oozing of blood. And given that the woman who stepped out of the shadows had a fresh crimson coat on her lips, which she slowly licked off as though savoring every drop, Bev knew instantly what the hell had just happened.

  “Who are you?” she demanded as she lifted the duvet to her neck and pressed it against the puncture wound. The female vampire had only gotten a quick taste. Intentional, Bev suspected, for there was definitely evil at play here.

  “Didn’t Cane tell you about me?”

  The vampire was of medium height and slight build. She looked to be no more than sixteen or seventeen. Her dirty blonde hair was wild and tangled. Her clothes were plain and dated. And her eyes… As black as Cane’s yet they glowed with a sinister, menacing look that alarmed Bev.

  “I’m Amy,” she said, her tone dripping anguish. “His pet project gone horrifically awry. And you, my dear mortal, are the payback I’ve waited impatiently for.”

  Before Bev could move, the vampire flew across the room and toppled her, pushing her back down on the bed as her fangs sank deep.

  One good scream was all Bev got before she felt the life being sucked from her.

  Cane heard Bev’s cry of pain and horror and a sick feeling gripped him. He dropped the box he’d been packing for storage, and was crashing through the French doors of her bedroom moments later.

  He reeled from the vision before him. His worst nightmare come to life and he hadn’t even known it’d existed. Because he’d thought Amy was long gone.

  Her head snapped up from Bev’s neck and she glared at Cane, her eyes wild. Blood dripped from her open mouth.

  Bevelyn’s blood.<
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  “No,” he barely managed to grind out. His fists clenched and the desire to rip Amy’s limbs from the sockets tore through him. His gaze shifted to Bev. Her eyes were closed and her body was limp in Amy’s lanky arms. Her chest barely rose and fell.

  She was dying.

  “You went too far this time.”

  And he launched himself across the room, his body connecting with the mad vampire’s. The inertia sent them sailing into the wall, putting a sizeable hole in it. Rage and fury made him wrap his large hands around Amy’s thin neck and squeeze tight. She was a vicious vampire, but no match for Cane. Especially now, when he was furious and in such agony over losing Bev.

  “I can’t believe you fell for a mortal,” Amy choked out.

  He increased the pressure until her eyes were bulging in their sockets. “I can’t believe you’re so suicidal.”

  “Hate…you…” Was the most she could manage.

  Cane released her. Crazed with anger, he flew across the room, gripped one arm of the intricate, wrought iron design that comprised Bev’s headboard and ripped it away from the wall. The metal gave out under his supernatural strength, the twisting and tearing of it echoing around him.

  Before Amy could say another word or hurt anyone ever again, he whirled around and hurled the jagged metal spear at her. It drove deep into her heart just as she was about to speak. She stared at him with her crazed, sinister eyes large and round with shock. Her hands curled around the metal that pierced her heart. And then a breath later, she collapsed to the floor.

  He’d burn her later. And be relieved he’d destroyed her. It’d been a long time coming.

  “Cane.”

  His head whipped back to the bed. He climbed onto it and lifted Bev’s limp body into his arms. Her voice had been but a whisper. Her eyes were still closed. But she’d heard him and was still hanging on.

  “Goddamn it,” he said on a strangled breath. Shoving hair off her face and fighting the hunger that welled within him at the smell and sight of her blood, he tried to get a grip on his emotions.

  He’d never been this devastated, this distraught.

  This enraged.

  “Save me.”

  She barely had the breath to speak, he could hear it. See it. Feel it.