Belladonna appears to be an average upper-middle class home on the Potomac River, but where we wind up totally throws me. I was expecting a run-down mansion or abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of town. The subway, maybe.
"You're joking, right?" I ask, watching the smile spread across Trinity's face as we pull into the parking lot closest to several of the national monuments. He could be—I hated the movie National Treasure.
He comes around and waits until the driver has opened my door before saying, "You'll see."
We walk until we come to the Lincoln Memorial, where a handful of tourists are milling around. I can't decide if this is his sick idea of a prank or not. "This is fifteen shades of absurd. You can't be serious." I watch as a young couple totes around a sleeping toddler, taking pictures and chatting about tomorrow's agenda. "Are you serious?"
He doesn't answer me. Instead, he loops his arm around mine and escorts me to the back of Lincoln's chair, where we stand for a full two minutes. After the young couple leaves and a handful of new visitors arrive, he winks at me and rests his hand on what I would swear was ordinary monument material. It lights up in a circular pattern when he places his hand on it and I watch dumbfounded as a door materializes. The part of my brain that initiates sarcasm is temporarily out of order and I follow him languidly.
We walk down a long flight of narrow stairs and enter a sturdy underground structure. If I didn't know better, I would think we were in a regular above-ground building. Okay—minus the windows.
"Under the Lincoln Monument? Whose idea was that and how the hell did they pull it off?"
"It isn't below the monument, it's below the White House. This is just one of fifteen tunnels that lead there. We're not far now."
The crack I made about High Coven being the vampiric White House wasn't supposed to be literal.
"I don't get it," I murmur.
"You will. Come on."
He could have told me this, you know.
We eventually approach another gateway; this one has guards who don't question his presence, which makes me a little nervous. I know he's one of the clerics, but still. It opens into a well-lit chamber, filled with rather somber men who appear to have been waiting on us. I suddenly understand the saying "chills ran down my spine"; it's not my skin that shivers—it's my soul.
Trinity doesn't take a seat where I expect him to, nor does he tell me to remain quiet while we wait on some other power to approach the center of the room. Instead, all eyes turn to us, all bodies rise and all heads bow as he leads me to the center. Even then, it's when one of the seated clerics addresses him as Lord Tristan that I realize what's happening.
Trinity dismisses them and we are left standing in the room alone.
I can't speak. How daft must I be to miss that the guy I've been involved with is … well, God? Our hierarchy isn't a democracy. There is a council, but it doesn't function like any human council I know of—it's more akin to a king's advisory. Jesus Christ. This can't be happening.
"Lord Tristan? You're the Seer Cleric," I force the words.
He takes my hand. "I've brought you here because I want you to understand that you aren't in any danger of judgment. You never were. The Rebellion doesn't know that Trinity and Lord Tristan are one and the same. Though, I'm guessing Jacelynd has made the connection now that the wars of our past have been, shall we say, reignited."
"You were only a mentor," I say softly, trying hard to absorb all of this. "You took orders from others. I was there."
"That was how it had to be. This is for the good of our kind. Nothing you see here is against the oaths that you willingly swore when you became an assassin."
I recall Jacelynd's words. We haven't truly been in power over our own people in nearly five hundred years.
Trinity continues, "There are factions that would destroy us, that would destroy this," he gestures around us, "what we have bled and fought to obtain. An alliance may very well exist between us and humankind, those few who know of our existence, but it will not last. We've known that unavoidable fact for centuries. We are powerful, evidenced by our presence below the most protected place in America. We have a hand in every major government in the world, all things religious and political, but just as Rome fell, so can we if we aren't swift to take those who would question us to justice … if we don't firmly establish our dominance in this world."
"Why didn't you tell me any of this?"
"You weren't ready to hear it."
My skin tingles … those were Jacelynd's exact words when I questioned his identity.
"Jessica, you're one of the best assassins I've ever known. You kill cleanly and without conscience. In the last ten years, you've never once questioned your role in any of this … if anything, you've thrived under our guidance. You've never doubted High Coven or its purpose. This is your reward for such loyalty. You've seen my power, the things I can do that no other Kindred can do. You've asked for years about obtaining those powers. Today, I grant you that gift."
A door opens behind us and two men in black emerge. One of them carries a silver tray with two goblets on it, the other an ornate knife.
"I saw the fear in your eyes when we stood on that shoreline. I don't ever want to see it again. I openly confess my love for you and my want to spend … to give you the gifts that only I can give you. Do now as I ask and you will share those powers." The men stand on either side of me as Trinity speaks. "Don't deny me, Jessica. Don't deny yourself what you desire." He takes the dagger and slices open his hand. "Drink my blood now, as it is dedicated to you and you will know what it's like to truly be alive."
He takes my hand and does the same, spilling my blood into the second goblet. He closes his eyes and says, "As it is within, let it be without. Eternal thirst begotten of eternal love. As one tethered to another, forever seal these souls." He hands me the first goblet, with his blood, to drink, then mirrors my actions with the other.
The blood changes as it reaches my throat—it grows sweeter, warmer.
Trinity says, "Repeat these words in your mind as I say them, Fortai dunam eirtha tulet."
I hesitate for a fraction of a second, something welling in my gut, before the blood rushes to my head. Fortai dunam eirtha tulet.
No! Jacelynd screams, Jessica!
I lie awake at Trinity's side the next morning and wonder, What have I done?
There is no voice to answer my questioning. Only a void that feels like a portion of my heart has been cut away. Trinity opens his eyes and wraps his arm around my waist. I glance down, noting the rays of light as they stream through the window and paint our skin with gold ribbons.
And with that, I find a whole new understanding of the word "swiftly." It's like I am instantly on the floor in the corner of the room farthest from the window, my breath coming in frightened gasps. I rake my hands over my body, searching for anywhere that feels tender.
"It's all right," Trinity says sleepily. He comes to me and offers his hand. "Stand up."
I hesitate, but after he gives me a stern look, I let him pull me to my feet. "The dosing sph … "
He cuts me off by affectionately guiding me to the sunlight.
"How … " I don't even know what to ask.
"Just as my identity was kept secret, so is the real purpose of Icarus. The myth of sunlight came around ages ago and it has served as an easy cover for the real purpose of Icarus. Icarus is way to keep track of all Kindred. It also regulates procreation, among other things. You're high enough in the ranks now to finally know the truth."
Vicious burns mar my back and if I close my eyes, I can still feel the pain, which means I was conscious when I suffered the trauma. "My burns … from ten years ago. I was told it was an accident, after I was turned, before I was brought here. That had to be a lie. You knew," I murmur. "You knew what they were going to do and you sanctioned it. And I'm not the only one who has burns that are supposedly from sunlight. Why would you let this happen?"
Because our blood
combined is unlike anything in this world, Jess.
Trinity's voice shakes me to my core as I hear him as I once heard Jacelynd. The repercussions of what this means rip through me.
"This is how you knew, you evil son of a bitch." Guilt surfaces as I recount the last few days. "How you knew I'd been with Jacelynd, how you knew their names. It isn't just about the Rebellion is it?"
"The past doesn't matter now. You have a life before you that you haven't dared dream of before. So much lies ahead for us." I've never seen Trinity excited about anything, at least not to this extent. "The Rebellion and all those humans who have made our lives so difficult since we came into this world are about to learn who truly has the upper hand here. But I'm on a tight schedule this morning and I don't have time to lay this out for you. We'll talk about it when I get home."
I shake my head, numb. "I don't understand."
He ignores me for a time, going about his daily routine of pulling out clothes to wear and laying them on the bed. I'm frozen where I stand.
Trinity tucks his shirt into his overpriced slacks and threads his belt through the loops. "I can tell that you aren't going to let this go until you hear what you think you want to hear. Everything Jacelynd told you about your relationship with him is true. Irrelevant, but true. What is relevant is my past with Jacelynd. Bad blood between us, pardon the pun." He looks at me with gleaming triumph in his eyes. "I have simply taken back what is rightfully mine."
There is so much flooding my senses right now that I don't even know where to begin. "Trinity, quit messing with me! What are you talking about? What relationship?"
Trinity stops shuffling around and dumbly stares at me. "He wasn't lying to you when he said that you were his wife. I don't know what else he told you, but there's no way in hell that he didn't tell you that."
I can't breathe. Jacelynd is my husband?
"Was. Jacelynd was your husband. You are bound to me now. It's called a Blood Tithe, I'm sure you've heard of it." He smirks. "Jacelynd really didn't tell you?"
Why is the floor moving? Oh, wait, that would be my knees buckling. A Blood Tithe—to be perfectly honest, I thought it was an urban legend. The very idea that vampires could be bound by blood seemed ridiculous until now. If the legends hold true, a Tithe can only be broken by death or near-death. Explains the burns. It also explains why drinking from Jacelynd revived the Tithe.
"No, he didn't tell me. I wouldn't have believed him even if he … that's why he said I wasn't ready to hear it yet. I wasn't just married to him, I was Tithed to him. How could I have been connected to Jacelynd yet tricked into a Tithe by you? Two Tithes can't exist at the same time, can they?"
Why didn't I listen to those stories when they were being passed around in academy? If I had, maybe I would have known what was happening last night.
"Well, Jacelynd was with you for about five hundred years or so. He certainly knows you well enough to know when you will and won't believe something. And I didn't trick you into anything. You drank of me in oath, willingly, just like you swore your oaths as an assassin." Trinity breezes past where I'm crumpled into a lump near the foot of the bed, completely unmoved by how seriously distressed I am. "You revived a shadow of your former Tithe with Jacelynd, though I didn't see that coming. An unintended perk, I suppose. You can't hear him now, but he can certainly hear us."
"Five hundred—what?! Trinity, what the … wait, Jacelynd can hear us?"
"And feel us. You were a little too blood drunk last night to keep your emotions in check and I'm sure he knew exactly what was going on." Trinity casually pulls my underwear from between the sheets. "Every moan and sigh. And correct me if I'm wrong, but there was a whole lot of moaning going on."
I'm speechless. I mean … what do you say to something like that? I'm not old … I'm archaic. And he can hear us! Still! This is so not good.
"You can't tell me that wasn't the best sex you've ever had." He pauses for a second, then when I still don't say anything, he adds, "Or rather, that you remember. Don't you get what this means? I can feel everything you're feeling. I know exactly where to touch you and how … not just from knowing you, like I did before, but through actually experiencing what you're experiencing as it happens."
I'm reminded of Jacelynd's comment about my inner thigh. "You sadistic bastard! How can you be so heartless? They were telling me the truth when they said that everything in my past is a lie, weren't they?"
Still holding my panties, Trinity takes a seat in the chair a few feet from where I sit. "Yes, they were." He watches me, waiting for my reaction. "How can I be so heartless? You were my betrothed, Jessica. Jacelynd stole you away from me centuries ago, before we even had a chance to become what we are now. But I've never blamed you. It wasn't your fault."
"I'm not a possession, Trinity! I can't be stolen. God, your arrogance is immeasurable. Quinn and the others? Who are they to me? Quinn knew more about me than the others, why?"
Trinity frowns. "Did they tell you anything?" When I don't respond he says, "Blake and Quinn are your cousins."
So much shit to process, so little serotonin to work with. "And we … we aren't humans who were turned? We're really not from … Earth?"
I really am an effing alien.
"You're a Blood-Born Kindred. Technically speaking, we are from Earth. Our parents, on the other hand, were not. However, your classmates and fellow assassins are mostly turned vampires taken from the Rebellion and … reprogrammed, for lack of a better word."
Strangely, laughter is all that I can muster at the moment. "Blood-Born, so there's a name for it. You're telling me all of this like I'm supposed to just accept it. We might be Tithed, but I'm beginning to recall all of the reasons I said 'no' when you asked me to marry you … and then some! You couldn't have expected this to go over well with me. Shit, Trinity, I was sent to bring in my own cousin. Seriously?"
"You could have woken up ten years ago believing that I was your lover, or more specifically, your husband. But I wanted you to come to me on your own. Jacelynd rushed me a little with this stunt he pulled, but you were close enough to fully surrendering."
You know nothing of what I would have done of my own volition.
His fingers dig into my jaw as he takes my chin and forces my back against the wall with his forearm across my collarbone, then slides his free hand between my legs.
You can say anything, think anything you want, Jess. But your body's reaction to me doesn't lie.
Once
It's been hours since Trinity left me alone in his room. I am sitting in the window seat, staring out across the expansive lawn that suddenly feels like a prison yard. Sunlight bathes my skin and I can't help but feel foolish. Jacelynd, Quinn, they all knew I wouldn't be harmed by daylight. Jace must have asked me what time it was with the intention of keeping me in one place while they looked for me. It explained why the film on the windows was only on one side of the house—why we were upstairs. They weren't going to tell me until … when? Until I regained my memories?
I relive the whole event, from waking up to leaving—every glance, every word and find deeper regret than I've ever experienced. Jace still had tenderness in his eyes even after I ripped his shoulder open, pushed him away. He still spoke to me with affection in his voice after I deceived him and left him unconscious; still professed his devotion to me even after hearing me say the name of who I assume is his greatest enemy in longing and desperation. And Trinity knew, told me to say his name, all to torment Jace. The thought of it makes me nauseous.
And the dreams … memories. Why couldn't I have read more into that? Five hundred years? I can't even fathom being that old, let alone being with someone for that long. Yet, just as Jace said, below all of my snark and sarcasm, I feel the truth of it now. Why did it take Trinity revealing the truth about Icarus for me to open my eyes? Why couldn't I have just listened to my heart?
So, I suppose this is where I re-evaluate my life. I think of my mom and dad, my friends from high
school and college. Did I even go to college? A terse thought crosses my mind that if they were leaving false memories, they could have at least made me an honor student. I failed out of the history department and had to change majors. What was the point in that? Believability?
Who cares, no one I know from before ten years ago exists.
They do exist, Trinity says. But they belong in someone else's life, someone else's memories.
What will happen if I leave?
Oh, angel, he laughs darkly, you can try, but I wouldn't count on getting far. You know what being Tithed to me means, don't you?
Yes, I know damn well what it means. No wonder your blood felt like it was corrupting me in Florida. I'd just fed from Jacelynd. Explains why I was freezing—it was distance from him and the need for his blood.
I'm a prisoner—body and soul. I haven't the faintest idea how I am going to get out of this and I start imagining my life as the path is currently marked. My eternal life. Though I don't truly remember Jace or anything about my past, I don't hate Trinity—not utterly. In a way, he's all I know. Trinity does have compassion. His powers are not always used to the detriment of others. I've witnessed it. In fact, it's what got my ass out of a sling on that first assignment. We were in the subway, mingling with the crowd. Trinity was supposed to follow us from a distance. The target fouled up a handful of perfectly good chances for us to do what was necessary before I finally got impatient and initiated the take-down. Needless to say, things got complicated at that point. I don't think any of us, Trinity included, expected our target to be so skilled in doling out death blows. It's incredibly hard to kill a vampire—sunlight has manifestly been taken off that list—starvation being the worst way to go, but not the longest. Tearing out a major organ will do it too—not that Kindred can bleed to death, but really awful things start to happen to the body when it doesn't have all of its indispensable parts. There are a good many Death Dealers who are trained in this art. It may have a name, but I don't care to know it. I've seen it in practice, and let me just tell you that it surpasses a mere word. This is what Trinity was talking about when he said grown men were losing it. He wasn't exaggerating. Three seasoned assassins were felled and left bathing in their own blood before my brain could register what was going on and react. In retrospect, I suppose I should be a little prouder of myself. I managed to get at least one good hit in before I was cornered.
Icarus; The Kindred (A Paranormal Romance) Page 5