Embrace the Darkness (Darkness Series)

by Lilly Gayle

  Rising slowly to his feet, he moved toward her. She tensed but didn’t retreat. He felt her confusion. “Amber—”

  “Oh my God.” Her face paled.

  His heart clenched. “What?”

  “The thing that attacked me.” She sucked in a shuddering breath. “It was you.”

  Chapter 13

  Gerard’s eyes shone with fear. “It wasn’t me. It was my clone.”

  The tortured words resonated with true emotion, but suspicion rode Amber’s back like a monkey she couldn’t shake. “You said Weldon hadn’t perfected cloning.”

  “He hadn’t,” Gerard said with a sigh that tore at her defenses. “Not while I was his prisoner. But he had my DNA, and apparently, he’s had time to perfect the process.”

  Megan stood, drawing Amber’s attention away from Gerard.

  “It only takes one cell to replicate DNA,” Megan said, moving closer. “And vampire DNA reproduces quickly. So quickly, Weldon could have perfected the cloning process and generated a fully grown vampire in a matter of months.”

  Feeling like a cornered animal, Amber took a step back, keeping the open door in her line of sight. She was surrounded by vampires and the wife of a vampire. Could she trust them? Her heart said yes. Her mind said she was crazy to even consider it. Vampires survived on blood—human blood. And they had the power to manipulate minds. Any mortal associated with vampires shouldn’t be trusted.

  She all but growled her frustration. “Then how can I be sure which Gerard is real and which is a clone?” She turned to face him. “How can I be sure you’re you and not a clone?”

  “Trust your instincts,” he said, making no effort to manipulate her thoughts. “You know I’d never hurt you.”

  “In my heart, I know,” she said, trusting without a doubt it was true. “But as soon as you mentioned clones, I remembered something about the vampire who attacked me. When he initially grabbed me, I thought he was you.”

  Once the creature flashed his fangs, she’d forgotten her initial impression. Gerard would never hurt her. But had the creature looked like him? She studied Gerard’s face.

  Short, light brown hair lightly salted with gray at the temples, swept back from a broad forehead. Expressive, deep-set blue eyes set a fraction too close over a wide nose and square jaw. The minor imperfection didn’t detract from his masculine good looks. She even liked his slightly dimpled chin.

  Had the vampire who attacked looked anything like him?

  Briefly closing her eyes, she tried to picture the other vampire. He was the same height and build as Gerard, but she’d been unable to see his face. Light had shone from behind, casting it in shadows. But when he grabbed her, she’d gotten a whiff of his skin seconds before he flashed his fangs.

  Her eyes sprang open. “He smelled like you.”

  It didn’t register at the time. She’d been too afraid to pay attention to her other senses. But she was paying attention now.

  Confusion colored Gerard’s expression. “You initially thought it was me because we wear the same cologne?”

  “He wasn’t wearing cologne. It was his skin. It smelled like yours.”

  “But I wear cologne. How could you possibly recognize the odor of my skin? Unless you think I stink.” He raised his arms and sniffed his armpits in a dramatic display that made Amber smile despite the tension filling the room.

  She leaned toward him, inhaling deeply. Oak, leather, patchouli, and something more elemental. Something earthy and sensual. Her muscles clenched. “You smell fine.”

  How could she explain her ability to distinguish one man’s scent from another’s?

  She’d always had an acute sense of smell. Andrew used to say she had the nose of a bloodhound. It had come in handy on more than one occasion in the field.

  “It’s your skin,” she clarified when Gerard continued to stare as if she were a freak of nature. “Beneath the smell of your cologne, is your unique scent. That—thing—had the same smell.” A memory stirred. She frowned. “Only—different.”

  “Amber,” Megan said, “most mortals don’t have that keen a sense of smell.”

  She shifted uneasily. “That doesn’t prove anything.”

  “It proves you have heightened senses. Like a dhampir,” Vincent said, his voice smug and yet somehow dangerous.

  She ignored his challenging tone and spoke to Gerard. “Having a sensitive nose isn’t proof beyond a reasonable doubt.” Was anything reasonable where vampires were concerned? Certainly not her growing affection for Gerard.

  “You are a dhampir, Amber. You have vampire-like abilities—like heightened senses.” He stepped closer. His eyes were soft. Compassionate. His words, cautious. “You’ve always had better instincts than most mortals. But you didn’t start coming into your power until you were exposed to vampires.”

  “Why?” She didn’t want this. She wanted to be normal.

  Since when is it normal to be attacked by vampires?

  She closed her eyes, struggling to suppress memoires of her mother and Andrew—wanting to forget again and return to a time before Richard Baxter’s autopsy report triggered new nightmares and distorted images from the past.

  “Blood calls to blood,” Gerard said.

  “Your blood recognized that part of you which is vampire,” Megan added.

  Amber opened her eyes again, fisting her hands at her sides. “How can I be half-vampire if vampires can’t reproduce? It doesn’t make sense.” And she needed it to. She needed proof—or evidence that suggested a semi-believable hypothesis. Something logical. Rational.

  Gerard and Vincent turned to Megan, as seemingly anxious as Amber for an explanation.

  Megan wrinkled her brow, a frown pulling the corners of her mouth downward. “I’ve run extensive tests on Vincent and a few on Gerard, and they both have azoospermia.”

  Azoo what? It sounded like a zoology term. Something caged monkeys got. “Not that I have a clue what that is, but what does it have to do with a vampire’s ability to reproduce?”

  “Azoospermia is the absence of sperm in the ejaculate,” Megan said, as if the answer was obvious. “But as I was testing them, I realized—”

  Amber held up both hands, palms outward. “I don’t need the details.” Or the visual—vampires peering at girlie magazines as they aimed into a small plastic cup.

  “It would have been easier getting a specimen if I’d known you at the time,” Gerard said.

  She rolled her eyes. “That is so not funny.”

  But a shiver of awareness tickled her insides, reminding her of what it was like to have Gerard’s mouth on hers.

  A blowtorch couldn’t have warmed her cheeks more than the visual inside her head.

  Avoiding his knowing gaze, she turned to Megan. “So, how do you know it’s not just these two who’re sterile?”

  “Because I had a child as a mortal,” Vincent said in an irritable tone as if losing patience with a two-year-old. “And I can’t have them now.”

  “Well, you are pretty damned old. And there could be a million reasons you became sterile—including the fact that you died more than a century ago.” His sperm had probably shriveled into dust long before she was even born.

  “Please.” Megan held her hands up between them as if playing referee between two bickering children.

  Amber flushed, feeling properly chastised. Vincent’s face looked a little pink too.

  “I can only guess at an explanation,” Megan continued. “Theoretically, it would be possible for a newly converted vampire to impregnate a woman if the circumstance were right.”

  “What circumstance?” Amber asked. “And why must the vampire parent be male? Why not a female vampire and a mortal male?”

  Not that she thought her mother had been a vampire either. If she had been, she wouldn’t have died—not permanently at least.

  An aching knot rose in her throat. She swallowed, pushing the pain down into that deep dark place that tore at her soul.

  “Fe
males are born with all the eggs they’re ever going to have—mature eggs that die with the body,” Megan said. “But a man produces ten to thirty million new sperm a month—sperm that don’t mature all at once. So, even though sperm production ceases at death, the remaining sperm could continue to mature once a man turns vampire. And if that newly converted vampire had sex before the body reabsorbed the sperm, it might be possible for him to impregnate a woman. The odds are against it, but—”

  “The odds are against vampires too,” Amber said with a snort. “They still exist. But my father isn’t one. So, how do you explain me?”

  Megan flushed, averting her gaze. “Nicolas is a vampire. Could he have—um—raped your mother?”

  A sharp denial spawned by fear sprang to her lips. “No.” Reason returned, calming her nerves. She lowered her voice. “My mother didn’t fit the profile of a rape victim.”

  “There’s always glamour,” Vincent said, for once sounding sympathetic rather than challenging. “Your mother may not have known what happened. Or remembered.” He lowered his gaze, but not before Amber saw the shame in his eyes. “Blood lust often triggers sexual aggression in vampires.”

  “But as far as we know, Amber’s mother was never bitten,” Gerard argued. “And rape isn’t about sex. It’s about power and control. That kind of aggression would have triggered violent blood lust. If he’d bitten her, he’d most likely have killed her.”

  Gerard was right. Rape wasn’t about sex, and her mother hadn’t died that night. But Nicolas could have seduced her.

  Tears clogged her throat. She swallowed against the pain. “He took advantage of her and then erased her memory.”

  Had Nicolas lusted after her mother when he was mortal and then used glamour to entice her into his bed once he became vampire? It was the most logical explanation.

  Logical? There wasn’t anything logical about the existence of vampires.

  “Dhampirs instinctively know they weren’t conceived in love,” Vincent said, his voice filled with such sympathy it made her ache. “I suppose that’s why they hunt vampires.”

  “Retribution.” Yeah. She could understand the need to retaliate. She wanted to drive a stake through Surratt’s heart and send his sorry ass to hell. He may not have killed her mother, but he’d created the vampire who had. That bastard was dead. Surratt wasn’t.

  “When I was a boy in Bosnia,” Vincent continued, “a woman gave birth ten months after her husband died.”

  “Babies are late all the time.” Crap like that was how vampire legends got started. Then again, vampires were real. Maybe dhampirs were too.

  But that doesn’t mean I’m one.

  “True,” he added. “But the child was never sick and she had extraordinary senses. I was forbidden to go near her. The entire village believed she was a dhampir. They feared her father would return to the village to visit his family and feed on others. They ostracized her and her mother. Once she reached puberty, she used her talents to track and kill her own father. Then she sold her services as a vampire hunter. She blamed her father for the way others treated her and her mother. And she sought revenge. It’s what dhampirs do. And you have those same survival instincts.”

  “Even if my father isn’t my father and I am what you say, I’m not about to go on some vampire hunting spree,” she said with disgust. “Do you really think I have so little control over my own destiny?”

  “Instinct is often too powerful to ignore,” Vincent said, a note of sadness in his voice. “Ask any vampire. No matter how hard we fight the instinct to feed on blood, we cannot win. It’s as much a part of our nature as the color of our eyes.”

  “But vampirism is a virus. And I don’t have a damn virus,” she argued. “I might not have any control over the color of my eyes, but I damn sure have control over my actions.”

  And once she solved the Lifeblood murders, she would choose to settle the score with Surratt. That wasn’t vengeance. It was justice. She might not have a reason to kill him, but she would do whatever was in her power to ensure he didn’t convert another mortal or turn another murderous vampire loose on the world.

  “I want justice,” she reiterated in case Maxwell wasn’t paying attention. “But I have no interest in becoming Amber the Vampire Slayer.”

  “Amber has a mind of her own,” Gerard said with a smile. “She’s not going to kill anyone, mortal or immortal without justification.”

  Then he dragged her under his arm and held her close. She felt like a frightened bird sheltered by its mother’s wing. She snuggled closer, absorbing his strength. “If Nicolas is her father, he didn’t use glamour and he didn’t rape her mother. I may not have been able to track him but I didn’t sense any animosity. And from what Amber has told me, he seems to genuinely care for her.”

  Every muscle in her body stiffened. “My mother didn’t have an affair,” she argued.

  Gerard rubbed her back and spoke softly. “You don’t know what happened back then. You were only five when she died. At least consider the possibility that she and Nicolas had some sort of relationship and that you were conceived in love.”

  Was Nicolas her real father? Did he love her?

  More than Greg does?

  The childish thought made her bristle. Gerard continued to hold her in his big, gentle arms.

  “She needs to locate Nicolas,” Vincent said. “He’s the only one who knows the truth.”

  “You won’t be satisfied until you hear the truth from him,” Gerard added, giving her a gentle squeeze.

  The truth might be something Nicolas didn’t want to share—or she’d want to hear.

  “I can’t talk to anyone tonight.” She felt drained. Exhausted. “I just want to sleep.”

  Would a month be long enough? A year?

  Megan looked at her as if she understood her spiraling emotions. “Maybe we can finish this conversation tomorrow.”

  Nerves tightened Amber’s muscles. Her neck and shoulders ached. “I’m not up for another ride on the vampire express. Just call me a cab and I’ll check into a hotel.”

  She avoided looking at Gerard but felt him stiffen beside her.

  “Nonsense. We have plenty of room.” Megan gave her husband a pointed look. “Don’t we, Vincent?”

  He grunted in response and looked at Gerard. “She stays, you stay. Somebody’s got to keep an eye on her.”

  Gerard’s lips curved into a familiar half smile. “You’re not afraid she can take you. Are you, Vin?”

  Another snort from tall, dark, and menacing. “No. I just don’t want to wake up with a stake poised over my heart.”

  Amber had to hand it to him. Vincent nailed the brooding vampire persona perfectly. All he needed was a dark cape and creepy organ music. The man was handsome as sin and just as dangerous. “I hate to disappoint you Vamp, but I left my stake in my other business suit.”

  A smile twisted his mouth.

  Gerard chuckled. “You might as well give it up, mon ami. She doesn’t scare easily.”

  “Forgive Vincent,” Megan said. “He’s not worried about himself so much as me. He’s overprotective.” She gave her husband a reproving look and turned her attention back to Amber. “The guest rooms are upstairs. You and Gerard take your pick.”

  “Gerard doesn’t need to stay.” She’d never fall asleep with Gerard in the house. Her body tingled whenever he was near. “He still has time to get back to North Carolina before sunup.”

  “I’m not leaving you, Amber,” he said softly at her ear.

  She jumped and turned her head to meet his gaze. His eyes darkened. Desire twisted her insides into a tight knot of need.

  “Afraid I’ll go after your clone without you?” she said, trying to ignore the hot flush of desire.

  “No. I’m afraid he’ll come after you.”

  Fear quickened her pulse, but she forced a smile. “I thought I was the vampire hunter.”

  “You are. But for some reason, my clone wants to capture or kill you.”


  Despite Gerard’s large comforting presence, cold settled in her chest. “You think? That damn thing came at me like a rabid squirrel on crack. It’s like he was targeting me.”

  “He didn’t track you to Lifeblood.”

  “Gerard’s right,” Megan added. “He was there at the normal time I report to work. If he was waiting for me and then saw you, he might have sensed what you are.”

  “I don’t think so,” Gerard’s gaze was distant. Concerned. “I think he sensed your connection to me.”

  “You’re not just guessing. Are you?” Amber stared at Gerard until he met her gaze. “You’re aware of your clone on a subconscious level. And he’s probably aware of you—your thoughts. Your feelings…” But she did not want to think about Gerard’s feelings. Not now. Maybe never.

  He shifted his body away from hers. “I’m—I don’t know. I thought I was just imagining it. But recently, I have sensed—something.”

  For the second time since their arrival, Vincent’s eyes shone with something other than anger and hostility. “If Dr. Weldon created the clone then we can reasonably assume they’re together. Find one. Find the other.”

  “And how do you propose we find Dr. Weldon?” She so needed her Trazadone for a good night’s rest. But she’d have to settle for whatever sleep she could get and skip her meds. Her purse was in Asheville. And her meds were in her purse.

  Vincent and Gerard exchanged glances. Gerard nodded. “It might work.”

  “What might work?” Megan and Amber asked in unison.

  “I obviously have some faint connection to the clone,” Gerard said. He looked at Amber. “And you have the instincts needed to track vampires.”

  “Why do you need me to track him? Can’t vampires track other vampires?”

  “Only if we already have the scent and the trail is fresh. We know a vampire when we encounter one, but we can only find a vampire without a fresh scent if we’re connected by blood. And despite our shared DNA, the connection I share with my clone is weak. But I think you can help me find him.”

  “And what if I don’t want to hunt vampires?” Would they come after her?