“I love you, oh gawd,” I screamed as his pounding brought me. Part of my brain registered that it was nice I could still enjoy sex. The other part yelled at me, what the hell am I doing?
“Aram?” I pushed at his shoulder. He nuzzled my neck and I felt the scrape of his teeth. He was looking for the vein. I shoved harder but he was insistent. I saw the flash of blue power trying to take over his eyes again as he looked at me.
“No. Aram! Aram! No more, stop.” Suddenly, I was screaming for a whole different reason.
Chapter Twenty-One
The door slammed against the wall. Other hands were there pulling Aram back. I realized it was Jareth. My scream brought him back to check on me. He held Aram back, struggling to return to both the bed and me. I made an effort to right myself.
“You should not have tried this so soon after such a powerful magic had hold of you. I do not think its effects have completely dissipated.”
“Hey, it’s not like I planned it. It just happened.” I tried to be mad at Jareth. Of all the people who’d been in the room, he was the only one that seemed …satisfied. He got what he’d wanted for months, bedding me without having a relationship. It really pissed me off that he didn’t even look embarrassed about that, but what did I expect from a really old vamp? He did, however, keep his eyes fixed on his brother while I recovered my panties and redressed myself.
“I am fine brother,” Aram said, a snarl still on his lips.
“You are calmer, but I think it best you two not be alone for a while. The temptation appears to be too great.”
“I can handle it,” Aram groused.
“I think not.” Aram righted himself and turned to face me. Our eyes locked and he started towards the bed again. Jareth’s hand on his arm stopped his progression.
“No Aram. You must not touch her, not for a little while.”
“Look at her and tell me you would not want her.”
Jareth turned to me and inhaled. His spine stiffened.
“I cannot.”
“She’s mine,” Aram said in clear warning. My eyes darted between them. Jareth and Aram both took long, deep breaths through their noses.
“Please Cassandra, try to stay calm. The fear is only making it worse.”
“I’m sorry. I tried to go, but he wouldn’t let me.”
I pushed off the end of the bed to my feet and wobbled, almost falling over. I felt really weak. I’d been out of the world for a few days. I’d not eaten and the healing bruises on my neck proved I’d donated a lot recently. Aram moved to steady me, but Jareth once again interceded.
“No brother,” he said, turning him away from me. “You will get dressed. I think the effects will be minimized if you do not touch skin to skin.” Aram grumpily retreated to his closet. Jareth turned back to me. “And I think it would be best if you did not display so much tempting flesh.” Jareth led me into his room. I saw where he held me. He’d put on leather gloves.
“Very good,” I said dizzily. He leaned me against the wall then entered his closet and brought out a white, button down shirt. I slid it on over the top and felt better covered. The shirt was too long for me so I buttoned up only a few in the middle and knotted the end above my stomach. He led me slowly from the room. We started down the corridor snail slow. I needed rest and something to eat. Not the something I got. A ball of blonde fury threw itself at me. The slap across the face stung, but not as much as it once would have. Tarquin seethed angrily at me. I couldn’t look him in the face. The same face he had shared with his twin, Vincent.
“You stupid bitch,” he screamed at me. “You killed him. Humped him to death.”
I covered my sore cheek with my hand and forced my eyes up. He glared at me something fierce.
“I’m sorry.”
“You’re sorry?!” He raised his hand to slap me again. Jareth caught his arm before he could complete its swing.
“Enough Tarquin,” he growled, holding the young man’s arm tightly and stopping him from his attack. I looked into Tarquin’s eyes. They were big, blue and tear filled. I understood his pain. He’d lost his brother, his twin.
“It’s okay Jareth,” I said weakly. “I deserved it.”
“No, he does not have the right to strike you,” he growled defending my honor, and pulled Tarquin close to him. I watched as he locked eyes with the boy and slowly, Tarquin went into a deep trance. Tarquin fell against Jareth’s body. He was burdened with both of us as I was already leaning on him pretty heavily.
“Leave me here,” I said stumbling to the wall and using it to prop myself up. “Take care of Tarquin.” Jareth tried to juggle us both but I was having none of it.
I could hear the club noises down the corridor and already knew both he and Aram should be working. I’d stolen nights of their life away like some sort of goblin. I’d stolen Vincent’s life. I didn’t know how to reconcile my guilt. When Jareth was out of sight, I slowly slid to the floor and sat there deeply depressed. I didn’t cry anymore. My eyes were dry, but my whole body sagged. I didn’t have any energy or strength. I didn’t know if it was because of my emotional state or the fact that I’d missed three days. No meals, no sustenance and a lot of blood donation. If I were human, I’d be as dead as Vincent. As if on cue, my stomach growled. It echoed in the quiet of the corridor, sounding thunderous. I laughed, startled into a fit of giggles. That was how Jareth found me, bent over double, laughing like I’d lost my mind. His footsteps were hesitant as he approached me.
“Cassandra?” I noticed he stopped calling me Miss Cassandra. I guess all polite social tags went out the window when you’ve been intimate with someone – whether you remember it all or not. I also realized this was the second time in the last hour I’ve greeted Jareth with hysterical laughter. My emotions were such a mish mash right now that he couldn’t read them. I raised my head to look into steel blue eyes.
“My stomach rumbled,” I said in a soft voice. I sounded like a scared child. “I must be hungry.”
“I imagine so.” He offered me one of his gloved hands and I took it. He pulled me up on to my feet in one smooth arc and we continued to the club’s kitchen.
The kitchen was a long galley room that could only fit about two people side by side. One side was lined by cabinets and a stove and sink, including a small space for a microwave and kettle. The room was divided by a long breakfast bar with stools with just enough room to squeeze in behind to sit. Between the counter and the bar, at the far end, was a large, shiny, humming refrigerator.
“We restocked recently, so I should be able to create some sustenance for you.” I smiled and gave him a shove towards the stools.
“Take a seat Gary Rhodes. I think I can do it better myself.” He slid onto the end stool graciously.
“As you wish.” I pulled open the fridge and peered around the shelves. They were packed to busting.
“Why do you have so much food? None of you eat.”
“We stock it for employees and overnight guests. It keeps them happy.” I pulled out eggs and cheese and placed them on the counter. I searched the cabinets till I found a skillet and a jug. Jareth watched me curiously as I cracked eggs into the jug and cut up little cubes of cheese to throw into the liquid. I went back to the fridge to replace the items and pull out the butter. I heated the pan on the stove, dropped a big dollop in and swirled it about. I could still feel his eyes on me as I moved from stove to fridge and back again. I happily cooked the omelet, moving it about the skillet with a wooden spatula. My first clue that all was not well was the minute sound of metal scraping against linoleum. I could feel Jareth’s presence at my back and had no space to move out of it. His hand – it appeared the gloves were now off – slipped gently to rest over my heart. I gasped as the movie started a full-blown Technicolor mass of images. A showcase of every touch, every kiss, every… I gulped as the air grew thick and steamy. Jareth was with me in the memories. He pulled them into sharper focus. He made the haze pull back so he could experience the mem
ory and emotion through me. I knew he felt my disgust within myself but ignored it, pulling a smaller hidden emotion to the fore. I felt strangely beautiful for a moment. Like a goddess being worshipped.
Then I smelled the burning. I shut it all down pushing power out of me and forcing the connection to break. Jareth stumbled back. I heard his weight fall against the breakfast bar. I looked down to see my omelet smoking. I pushed the pan off the heat and turned the flamed off before turning on Jareth.
“What the hell did you think you were doing? You warn your brother from touching me then risk it yourself.” Jareth kept his face to the side. Finally shame caught up to him. He damn well should be ashamed. He had absolutely no right to touch me.
“I’m sorry,” he said barely above a whisper.
“Well an apology is a start!” I huffed as I pulled open cabinets, rooting out a plate and fork. “You have no right to make me remember that. Did it even occur to you that you had no right to do that?” I took a seat and gave him a defiant look.
“I was being selfish. When the Were said he remembered something after you touched his chest, his heart – I knew my power had bled over all of us. I wanted to remember what I may never experience again.”
I had no real answer to that and nearly choked on hot eggs in reaction. I swallowed and decided incensed anger was my path. If I tried to be understanding, he might think he could pull this shit on me again. So I defended myself with my weapon of choice, bitchy sarcasm.
“You need to get a girlfriend. Find a constructive use for all that energy.” Jareth snorted.
“And who would you suggest?” I hadn’t expected him to take my suggestion so seriously. While he dusted down his pants I thought it over.
“Aribella, it might take you sometime to get her out of her underwear but that’s more to do with her dressing like a Victorian not willingness.” Jareth smirked and focused his eyes on me.
“What if the woman I want is spoken for?”
I did my best not to blink and keep a neutral face while eating more of my burned breakfast.
“Then you forget her and move on. Everything has its time.”
“Indeed,” he said straightening himself and pulling his glove back on. Jareth wasn’t quite as in control of himself as he pretended. As an Empath, he could feel the emotions of everyone around him, channel them, funnel them off or make you feel what he pleased. He kept his cool mostly and everyone around him kept theirs. It was admirable in a leader. A leader who can’t keep his head soon finds he has no people to lead. A man can only keep his own emotions pushed down so long. Bottling them up while the day to day emotions of everyone else shook it up, eventually the cork was going to pop. I thought he was too busy feeling everyone else’s emotions to have any himself. It almost made me feel sorry for Jareth, almost.
“I think I’d like to finish my breakfast in peace,” I said tartly and focused on my plate.
“Very well. Vincent is in the rising room until arrangements can be made. Sienna would probably appreciate your condolences.”
Jareth swept out of the kitchen. I tried to eat but slammed my fork down. Damn him. I’d sent a blow to Jareth’s ego and he knew how to hit me back. He knew exactly how I felt about all of it. He’d zeroed in on the guilt like a guilt seeking missile. I tossed the omelet into the trash. I hate to waste food but I was utterly unable to eat through the chard crust. I headed instead for the rising room.
Chapter Twenty-Two
The rising room was as dark as I remembered. The red lights were on full so I could see the outline of the central space through the gauzy curtains. I pulled them aside to step onto the rich red square of carpet that created the inner space. Soft notes of music circled the air as chairs circled the carpet. A small coffee table held some magazines. It was a bit like a waiting room meets that small room at the back of funeral parlors where you can view your loved ones.
Sitting on struts in the middle of the room was a large black lacquer coffin, right out of some black and white Dracula movie.
When a member of the kiss made a new, little vampire, this was where they laid them out till they rose to their new life. Most of the upper members of the kiss would take the surrounding chairs to witness the rising. They would greet the new vampire, offer him some older vampire platitudes and carry on with their night. I imagined it to be very intimidating to wake up to. I took slow steps towards the coffin. The last time I came in here Sienna lay in the coffin, waiting for me to free his soul from a demon so it could reanimate his body and he could rise again. This time as I peered over the edge it held the body of a man draped carefully from torso to feet in a white shroud.
His skin was pale and had been cleaned of the blood that had marred it. They even managed to mend his wounds. His black hair fell around his face, making him almost seem like an angel sleeping. Vincent and I hadn’t really been friends, but I’d liked him despite the fact that he regularly smelled like an ashtray and made inappropriate remarks about me. I was going to miss him. I reached out and moved a lock of his hair into place, trying to ignore the ice cold touch of his skin against mine. Someone had turned the thermostat down to keep the dead odor at bay.
The music stopped and I searched for the source. For the first time I noticed the grand piano on the other side of the curtains, in the top corner. I could only pick out the shape of the white keys like a disembodied Cheshire cat grin in the darkness. I walked to the edge and raised the curtain with a sweep of my hand. The spill of red light made Sienna’s hair look even more like blood. His face was drawn, pained. The faintest trace of pink tear tracks on his pale cheeks.
“Sienna, I am so, so sorry.” I blurted without really thinking about it. Sienna put down the cover hiding the keys away.
“Vincent always liked when I would play for him. It would help him sleep.” He stood and walked passed me to where the body lay. Sienna leaned over him and kissed his head. “Sleep well my boy.” I followed close behind him.
“I’m so sorry,” I repeated, unable to think of anything else to say. I watched the muscles in Sienna’s arms tighten as he gripped the edge of the coffin.
“Jareth tells me that I cannot be mad at you. That you were all enchanted. That you neither drove nor could control what happened.”
“As true as that may be, it does not assuage my guilt.”
“Vincent was quite smitten with you, although you would never have noticed that,” he said, his voice a little choked. “He and Tarquin have been my companions for ten years. Tarquin will not feel complete without him.”
“Tarquin has already showed me how he feels,” I said quietly, touching the cheek he’d slapped as if the sting was still fresh. Sienna turned to examine my face.
“You are not injured?”
“I don’t bruise easily but it still hurts.” Sienna nodded and with hips swaying strolled to only inches from me. He didn’t look angry or vengeful. He just looked sad. My entire body tensed expecting him to hit me as well – part of me wouldn’t argue that I didn’t deserve it.
“I chose to believe that Vincent died in the arms of a beautiful woman, which is a way I think he would have liked to go.”
“Yes, but I think he would have imagined himself at ninety-seven. She would have been blonde and he with a dodgy ticker.”
Sienna barked out a little laugh. His hand rose and he placed it down on top of my head. He patted it.
“You are a very good girl Cassandra. Despite my trying to blame you, I cannot. Your heart is so big and you feel so much guilt for forces you could not control. I will let you have a few moments to say your goodbyes.” Sienna left me alone in the room with a corpse.
I took deep breaths and told myself it wasn’t as if I hadn’t done this before. I’d had to stand over my mother like this and say goodbye. I watched her as now I watched Vincent, hoping any minute she’d take a deep breath, open her eyes and laugh. Tell me it had all been a mistake. I felt the tears slowly roll down my face and splash on the simple cloth that
covered him.
“Vincent, I wish…” That I could take it all back? Give him back his life? That he’d never been in that stairwell? “I told you smoking was going to turn out to be bad for you.”
I turned to leave when I felt a tug on my sleeve. I looked back over my shoulder to see if it caught on something. The shirt sleeve was pinched between two white fingers. Vincent’s blue eyes opened, slowly, lazily.
“Vincent? You’re all right? It was a mistake?” I turned to the door to yell for Sienna when my voice died in my throat. No, Vincent was dead. He had no pulse and his pallor was icy cold. A low growl rumbled out of his throat. That only meant one thing. Vincent was rising as a vampire and was going to be ferociously hungry.
I pulled my arm away harshly, ripping the sleeve off at the seam. He sat up with it still dangling from his hand. I stumbled and made a leap for the door. Vincent was fast pulling me to the ground. I hit with a thump that made the side of my face ache. He spilled out of the coffin. My voice screamed as loud as I could, but I’m not much of a screamer. I hoped it was enough to alert someone while I dealt with the vampire straddling me. I didn’t want to hurt him. I’d already gotten him turned.
“Vincent? Vincent. Stop, its Cassandra.” Vincent’s eyes were mad with thirst. He couldn’t hear me and sunk his fangs into my neck. He curled around my body like a greedy infant. All I could hear was him taking huge mouthfuls of my blood and the slowing thud of my heart. Could a vampire drain me to death? I raised one hand and wrapped it into his hair. God, he was a noisy eater. I push him away. If he detached he could take a large chunk of my flesh with him. I stroked his hair softly.
“Enough Vincent, please. It’s enough. Stop now.” He kept up the greedy sucking and I felt my body start to grow weaker. I hadn’t even recovered from the last donation I’d given. His teeth in my neck hurt like a son of a bitch, but even that was beginning to fade.
The door burst open. Jareth, Sienna and Aram filled the frame. I giggled as my head lolled back.
Deadly Sin (Cassandra Farbanks) Page 20