by Chloe Hart
In a flash he was up and on his feet, gripping her shoulders. “Don’t say that,” he growled, letting just a hint of yellow into his eyes. “Don’t admit the possibility of defeat. You have to know you’re going to succeed. Say it, Kit!”
She bit her lip, feeling his fingers digging into the muscles of her upper arms. “It would be a lie,” she said quietly. “I’m sorry, Luke. I’ve only ever fought you, and for all I know, maybe you’ve been letting me win.”
He stared at her in disbelief. “Are you mad? With everything that’s at stake, you think I’d give you anything but my full strength? I’ve been giving you everything I’ve got, Kit. Why would you doubt that?”
“Maybe because—” she stopped herself.
“What?”
Should she admit this to him? “Maybe because I…like fighting you. Maybe that makes it seem less real, or something.”
He let her go and backed up a few paces. “You like fighting me?”
“I guess you think that’s pretty weird.”
He shook his head. “No. I like fighting you, too. But that hasn’t made our training bouts less real. I promise you that. I think it’s the fighting itself you relish, not just fighting me. You were born to be a warrior. I think you might have been called like your brother, but you resisted. What you’re discovering now is something that was always there. Your true nature.”
A terrible thought occurred to her. “If I hadn’t resisted the call, I’d be a Green Fae warrior now. I’d be what the legend says I am. I’d be able to win the harp. By turning my back on this part of myself, I’ve put my brother’s life at risk.”
“It’s not that simple. Logic, computers, your love of science—those things are part of you, too. You’re unique, Kit. Many-faceted. You’re not just one thing or another. And you’ll win the harp tomorrow.”
“I haven’t had enough time!”
“Yes, you have. If we had a year to train together I couldn’t give you all the technique of a seasoned fighter, but we haven’t been trying for that anyway. Your advantage isn’t going to be particular moves or footwork or anything that can be taught.”
“Let me guess,” Kit said dryly. “Instinct?”
“That’s right,” Luke said, smiling.
Kit combed her hands through her hair. “Tell me about these people. The Order of Arthur. Do they live in secret? Like the Knights Templar, or something?”
Luke’s smile became a grin. “No. They most emphatically do not. The blokes we’re going to see tomorrow practice another ancient family trade: inn keeping. They run the best pub in Wales, so after your bout we’ll be able to kick back with a beer.”
Kit looked at him suspiciously. “Please tell me that winning the harp of Taliesin is still our main goal.”
“Absolutely,” he assured her. “The drinks are just a bonus.”
* * *
It was a good day. She worked out fiercely, reveling in the physical exertion, and this time when she fought Luke, in a duel with swords—not the dull blades they’d been using for practice, but the real thing—she felt for the first time a kind of cool confidence.
Maybe confidence wasn’t quite the right word. That implied a sense of the future, and this was more a feeling of being in the moment so completely that she couldn’t be surprised or caught off guard. She let the past and future fall away, leaving only the bare point where linear time touched eternity. The present.
When they finished Luke was shaking his head. “I’ve taught you everything I can. Now you’re teaching me. You’re ready to fight a duel with anyone, anywhere. Those lads in Aberystwyth don’t stand a chance.”
Kit nodded, panting. “I did feel good today. I hope that doesn’t mean I’m getting cocky.”
“A little cockiness might not be a bad thing for you. You tend to underestimate yourself. I’m glad you’re starting to feel like the warrior you are.”
She wiped the sweat from her brow and grinned. “Thanks.”
He smiled back at her. “Anytime. Now, how about dinner and an early bedtime?”
Heat flooded her without warning. She’d been trying to avoid thinking about bedtime, about how much she wanted to be in Luke’s arms again.
“Sounds good,” she managed, and a few minutes later they walked together to the kitchens to forage for supper.
* * *
It was different this time, Luke thought almost desperately. Last night had been so simple, so peaceful…the two of them had fallen asleep in each other’s arms like a couple of innocents. But now…
Now he was as far from sleep as he’d ever been in his life. Every cell, every nerve ending, was wide awake and craving the woman who nestled against him. He was so conscious of his own body he couldn’t read hers, couldn’t tell if her heart was racing, her blood heating. For all he knew, she was sleeping peacefully.
“Luke?”
Well, at least she wasn’t asleep.
“What?”
“Are you awake?”
“No.”
“Okay, it was a dumb question.”
She’d been facing away from him, her back curved against his chest, but now she twisted in his arms so they were facing each other. The firelight played on her face as she looked at him. For once, Luke was glad he didn’t have a heart that could pound.
“I can’t sleep,” Kit said.
Luke hesitated. “Maybe I should go back upstairs.”
Her hands tightened on his arms. “No! I want you to stay. Maybe we can talk until we get tired.”
“What do you want to talk about?”
Her eyes looked into his. “I want to know more about you,” she said. “Tell me how you became a vampire.”
“I thought you already knew. Wasn’t that one of the things you told me that first day? You said you knew what had happened to me in Carmarthen in 1604.”
“I know that’s when you were turned. But I don’t know how, or why, or anything else about it.”
It had happened so long ago that it was like recalling a play he’d seen or a book he’d read in the distant past.
“It was my mother.”
“Your mother turned you into a vampire?”
“Not exactly. But she paid the man who did.”
Kit stared at him. “Why on earth would she do that?”
“Because there was a plague outbreak in Carmarthen in 1604. My brother and his baby daughter died of it. My mother was half out of her mind with grief, and when a mysterious stranger told her he could give her other son eternal life, she begged me to let him do it, for her sake.”
“Did you want him to?”
“I thought he was a charlatan. I thought he’d give me a drink of water and say it was a magic elixir, or something. Of course I was wrong.”
Kit was quiet for a moment. “What happened after you were turned?”
“A fledgling vampire’s bloodlust is overwhelming. I was afraid of what I might do to the people I cared about—my friends and family. So I left with my maker.”
“Where did you go?”
“London. On the way there my maker was killed by a werewolf, so I was left to figure out how to control my nature on my own. It wasn’t easy.”
“But you did it.”
“Eventually. But it wasn’t until I came to Snowdon and met Merton that I was able to fully master myself. Merton gave me a place to live in the country of my birth, and work to do that I enjoyed. In return, all he asked was that I restrain myself from killing humans. I had been struggling to do that on my own for centuries, but I found that Merton’s faith in me gave me the strength to succeed.”
“What is Merton? He’s not a vampire.”
“No. I’ve wondered about that many times, but my curiosity has never been satisfied. Merton doesn’t talk about himself. I know he has psychic ability, and I can sense powerful magic within him, but that’s all. We’re friends in a manner of speaking, but we don’t pry into one another’s affairs.”
Kit looked at him thoughtfully. �
�Why did you go to the land of the dead?”
“Because you—”
“No, not with me. I mean the first time.”
“Oh.” Would there be any harm in telling her? “For the last hundred years or so I’ve been on a sort of…quest.”
Interest sparked in her eyes. “A quest for what?”
He hesitated. “Humanity,” he said at last.
“Humanity? What do you mean?”
“I’ve been a vampire for a very long time. Merton gave me a home here, and taught me how to subdue my nature, but after several decades I began to wish for…”
“For what?”
“For things I no longer had. I missed…” he shook his head. “I don’t know if you’ll understand this. But I grew up in an era of faith, and I missed my hope of heaven.”
Kit’s brow furrowed. “You mean…you missed your religion?”
“It’s more than that.” He’d never talked about this with another person, and it was hard to find the words now. “Vampires are immortal…unless we’re killed, of course. If that happens, our legends tell us we’re consigned to a version of hell. Not the Hades you and I just visited, but a demon afterlife in a different dimension.”
He hesitated. “In order to be admitted to heaven, you must be human. Humans give up one kind of immortality in exchange for another. They submit to the tyranny of time, of change, of old age and death. And by surrendering to that great indignity, by accepting impermanence, humans are given another life. True eternity.”
Kit nibbled on her lower lip. “I don’t know if I believe that,” she said finally. “That’s the story, of course. But by its very nature, no one’s ever been able to verify it. We don’t know what happens to mortals after death.”
“I know. That’s why you have to have faith, the ability to believe in things unseen. Things you can’t prove.”
“As a scientist, that’s hard for me to do.”
“As a vampire, it’s easy for me to do. But I’m cut off forever from whatever afterlife once awaited me.”
Kit frowned. “But you can’t know that for sure. Not really. I mean, if there really is a God…the kind of God you grew up believing in…then…don’t you think he can manage about vampires? I mean, if I can see the goodness in you, don’t you think God can?”
Luke smiled. “You think there’s a place for vampires in heaven? That’s generous of you, but it goes against everything I was ever taught. And that’s why I’ve been looking for a way to recover my humanity.”
“You want to die?”
“I want to die as a human.”
“But you don’t know for sure that there’s a heaven…or a God. Would you really give up immortality for the hope of an afterlife that may not even be real?”
“Does that seem so strange to you? Well, then, let me ask you this. Do you want to be a vampire? Or to make it even simpler—do you want to be immortal? Have you ever thought about that?”
“Actually, I have. I work in a field that makes you think about it. Robotics, computers, artificial intelligence. What if we could download our consciousness into a computer, and essentially live forever? Lots of people I know at MIT would do it in a second.”
“Would you?”
“No. I think that the fact that we’re organic is somehow essential to the way we think and see the world. And part of being organic is…what did you call it? Mutability.”
“So you should be able to understand what I’m talking about.”
“I guess I do. My mother always said we treasure life because it’s finite. Because we know it will end, we don’t take it for granted. Of course, Fae live a lot longer than ordinary humans—but we do eventually age and die. I think death is a part of life, but…I don’t know what happens next. I don’t know what will happen when I die. To my…well, my soul, I guess. I’m not even sure I believe in souls.”
“You believe in vampires and magic and parallel universes, but not souls?”
“I’ve seen vampires and magic and parallel universes in action. I’ve never seen a soul.” She shook her head. “Enough with the metaphysics. We’re getting off topic. This whole conversation started because you were supposed to tell me about your trip to the land of the dead. How did you think that would make you human?”
“A long time ago, I came across a ring. The one I wear on my right hand. It can be used to call the goddess Demeter—or the being our world has always known by that name. What her true nature is I don’t know, but she has power over growing things…and the ability to restore a vampire’s humanity. I’ve used the ring to call her many times, whenever I have anything of value to offer her. But she’s always refused my request. I went to the land of the dead to steal the Gem of Fanor because I’d heard that all the gods desire it, and I hoped it would be an offering she would finally accept. But she didn’t.”
“I’m sorry. But you know, Luke, it was lucky for me that she didn’t. Without you, I wouldn’t stand a chance of saving Peter. It’s because you’re a vampire that I have that chance.”
“I know. It’s the first time in decades I’ve been truly glad to be a monster.”
She frowned at him. “You’re not a monster.”
“Do you need me to do the ‘fang thing’ again, as you call it?”
“Fangs don’t make you a monster.” Kit shifted restlessly in his arms. “We’ve had enough of the supernatural tonight. Can we talk about something ordinary? Something…earthy. Like food. Or the weather.”
When she moved, her knee brushed against his groin. Luke had been congratulating himself on his restraint until that brief moment of contact.
“Tell me about your first sexual experience,” he heard himself say.
She pulled back to look at him, and Luke unconsciously tightened his hold.
“Why do you—”
“Because I want you, and I can’t have you, and I don’t have the strength to leave this bed. The least you can do is regale me with your past glories. Go on, Kit. Tell me about the first man you ever slept with.”
He knew it was a bad idea. His jealousy was as likely to push him over the edge as her nearness. But he had to know. He had to know who had touched her before him—not that he’d touched her yet. Nor ever would, if he could just get through the next few days.
Kit cocked one eyebrow at him. “Are you going to hunt him down and cut out his heart?”
Luke smiled in spite of himself. “Only if you’re silly enough to give me his name and address, love.”
Kit’s expression turned inward for a moment. Then she sighed.
“I was just thinking how not the next-best-thing-to-sex this is going to be, but maybe that’s good. My history with men is so boring that it’ll probably calm you right down. My first time was about as unsexy as you can get.”
Luke raised himself up on one elbow. “Unsexy?”
Kit frowned. “Well...it was sort of…clinical.”
“Clinical?”
“Yes.”
“What does that mean?”
Kit curled up on her side, pillowing her cheek on her forearm. Luke lay back down again.
“It was my junior year, and I’d never had sex. One of my best friends was a senior, and he’d never had sex either. We were sick of being virgins. So we decided to do it and get it over with. Sort of like a medical procedure.”
“A medical procedure?”
“Well…more like a scientific experiment. We were curious.”
“I see.”
“Like I said, it was sort of clinical. He brought condoms and I brought lubricant—”
“Lubricant?”
“Well, I’d read about the whole sexual process, of course—”
“Of course,” Luke said gravely. “Heaven forbid you skimp on the research.”
“Do you want to hear this or not? Anyway, I wasn’t sure my body would produce the requisite, you know, moisture, so I brought some back-up.”
“Moisture production is the man’s job.”
“Well, George—I mean, uh, Bingo—had never done this either. I didn’t think it was fair to expect him to—”
“All right, all right. So how was it?”
Kit sighed again. “About like you’d expect. Short and to the point. Also painful, since it was my first time.”
Luke felt a clawing of anger in his chest, anger that this ignorant boy had hurt her with his fumblings.
“And then it was over, and our friendship was totally screwed up, because George—I mean Bingo—became suddenly convinced that I was the love of his life, and it was only when he took a job in California that he finally left me alone.”
“So presumably it wasn’t as bad for him as it was for you.”
“I don’t know,” Kit said, her voice sounding hopeless.
Luke was ready to take back what he’d said about cutting the guy’s heart out.
“Tell me about the others.”
“What others?”
“The others after…Bingo.”
“There weren’t any others,” Kit said stiffly.
“There weren’t? Why not?”
“I was curious about sex so I performed an experiment. As far as I was concerned the experiment was a failure, and I had no desire to repeat it. Besides, I had my work.”
“Do you mean to tell me—”
“That I’m sexually boring? Yes, I am. Sorry to disappoint you. But maybe that’ll slake your whole vampire lust thing. That’s what you wanted, right?”
She took a deep breath. “It’s your own fault. You asked, and I told you. I’m sorry it wasn’t more titillating.” Her voice was cold, almost bitter, and Luke could have kicked himself.
“Listen, idiot, I don’t want to be titillated. I just…want to know you. Who you are. Everything about you.”
“Okay, well, now you know I’m frigid. That’s what George said, anyway. When I wouldn’t sleep with him again.”
Another bolt of rage shot through him. “George was a moron. Obviously. In four hundred years I’ve never met anyone more passionate than you are.”
Kit’s jaw was tight. “How come no one else has ever thought so?”
“I don’t know. Because they’re idiots? Or because you didn’t know it yourself? I think you made a decision a long time ago to lock the door on your passion. But you’re letting it out now. Look at the warrior you’ve become. And if that’s not enough, remember our kiss in the underworld. It burned me from the inside, and I know you felt the same way.”