Fangs For The Memories yb-1

by Kathy Love

  But conversely, a vampire can use its bite to cross a human over to vampirism, to injure the human or in some circumstances kill.

  As Jane read, the small marks on her neck began to sting as if reacting to what she read. She went back to the index to look up hypochondria.

  Nope, neither vampires nor werewolves seemed to suffer from that malady.

  But her fingers did stray to the wound. She had to admit they did look like vampire bites. At least the ones in the movies.

  She returned to reading about bites, learning that vampire bites varied based on the alignment of the vampire’s teeth. And that braces can in fact help poorly aligned bites.

  She laughed out loud and checked the author of the book.

  Dr. Kurtland Fowler-not a very vampiry name.

  Count Fowler. That just sounded silly.

  But despite her doubts about the author, she continued to read, skipping around to topics that caught her interest.

  But her amusement waned as she read one particular entry. Avoidance of sunlight.

  She, of course, knew from old vampire movies that they couldn’t go out in the sun, but something about Dr. Fowler’s comments struck her.

  The avoidance of sunlight is only applicable to vampires. The original concept of why vampires could not go out into the sunlight was based around the idea that the sun symbolizes life. Because vampires do not adhere to the same rules of biology as humans, and are often mistaken for dead, the assumption was made that vampires are intolerant to sunlight because they are inherently evil. Thus they were forced to cling to shadows and the darkness of night.

  When, in fact, the sun intolerance is far less dramatic. The aversion is a metabolic issue that does not allow the proper absorption of vitamin D. The reaction is violent and often deadly. As of yet, no treatment has been found.

  Vampires are also extremely sensitive to gamma rays, which have a sedative effect on them, causing the vampire to sleep very deeply in daylight hours.

  She stared at the words. This sounded like Rhys. A violent allergy to the sun, and she had never met a deeper sleeper.

  She stared at the words a moment longer, then snapped the book shut. She tossed it in the chair next to the sofa, suddenly unsettled, both by the book and by the direction of her thoughts.

  Rhys-a vampire. That was just crazy.

  Obviously, the return of Rhys’s memory, his confusing behavior toward her and the idea that Christian might want to hurt her were allowing her imagination to get away with her.

  Still, a lot of the things she’d read did seem similar to things that had happened. Rhys mentioning he disliked mirrors. The strange marks she had noticed on her body. And Rhys’s sun allergy. Was that too many parallels to be considered a coincidence?

  She glanced back at the book where it lay, the corner barely visible over the arm of the chair.

  She shifted against the cushions, pulling her legs up underneath her. She was being silly. Vampires-there was no such thing. She didn’t believe in supernatural stuff.

  Or did she? She definitely believed there was something strange going on in the bedroom she’d been given. As much as she wanted to believe she’d imagined or dreamed the eerie chills that woke her, she couldn’t. An entity, or something, had been there. A ghost. A spirit. She didn’t know what to call it. But she did believe it was real.

  So if that could be real, why couldn’t a vampire?

  She couldn’t believe she was actually considering this. But her gaze strayed back to the book as if it were calling her.

  She settled back into the soft sofa, determined to push all these ridiculous thoughts from her mind.

  She looked out the window. The sun was low over the city, the sky a deep pink streaked with wisps of pale purple clouds. She rested her head on the puffy cushions, admiring the beautiful colors of the sky, feeling tired but still unable to calm her mind.

  She forced herself to close her eyes, but within seconds, they were open again, first looking back at the sunset, then returning to the book.

  She sat up. She would scan the index one last time, and when she saw that there were no other entries that could apply to Rhys, she’d drop these crazy notions about vampires and ghosts. And there wouldn’t be any more connections. Because she was being silly.

  She leaned over and retrieved the book. Sitting cross-legged, she rested the book in her lap.

  “Thanks, Dr. Fowler. Like I didn’t have enough on my mind,” she muttered to the cover. Then she, almost reluctantly, opened to the back.

  Crosses 49–52, 112, 176-181

  Curses 2–4, 280, 291

  Nothing so far. She flipped ahead.

  Holy water 53

  She turned several more pages.

  Seeds 12, 45–46, 142, 167, 202, 310-313

  Seeds? She almost looked at that, just because she didn’t know seeds played such a big role in vampire or werewolf lore. But she didn’t. Seeds definitely didn’t apply to Rhys.

  Then the hair on the back of her neck stood up.

  Shape shifting.

  That topic alone didn’t cause her chill. It was the sub-topics listed underneath. Bats. Cold spots. Fog. Mist.

  This wasn’t about Rhys. But it did describe the thing she’d felt in her bedroom. She hesitated, then thumbed to the right page.

  Vampires, because of their ability to manipulate the metaphysical, can shape-shift. Unlike werewolves, or any were-creature for that matter, which can only shift into the animal they were infected by, the vampire can shift into many different forms. Shadows, fog and cold air are the most common shifts used by vampires. These particular changes are believed to have come into vogue, over the traditional bat, simply because they were the most effective methods to escape marauding villagers.

  Cold air. Fog. That was exactly what she’d felt in her room. Another coincidence?

  What if she was being visited by a vampire? And maybe Rhys was a vampire, too. That was how he knew what was happening. He said he heard her cry out, but she knew she hadn’t. She’d been too paralyzed with fear to scream.

  “Vampires,” she said out loud, her mind still toying with the idea.

  “I’m surprised you guessed,” a deep voice said from behind her, causing Jane to squeal and scramble to her feet. She spun around to see Christian, leaning a hip on the back of the sofa, his arms crossed over his chest as if he’d been standing there for a while. A mocking smile curved his lips.

  “You are a smart girl.”

  Jane backed away from him, tripping on the book, which had fallen to the floor when she jumped up. She caught herself on the arm of the chair and kept moving backward.

  “H-how did you get in here?”

  He strolled around the sofa, stopping to pick up the book.

  He opened it, absently flipping through the pages. “I came in as a shadow. It tends to be less noticeable than the cold air, as you can attest to. And fog-now that’s hardly discreet, is it?”

  Jane stared at him, dizziness coming over her. This couldn’t be real. She didn’t want this to be real.

  Christian continued to saunter around the room, not appearing to pay attention to her, but browsing through the book.

  “Vampires are believed to be the first creatures to rise out of the primordial ooze,” Christian read aloud. His lip curled upward with disgust. “Primordial ooze. It just sounds unpleasant, doesn’t it?”

  She didn’t respond.

  He turned a few more pages, then placed the book on the piano and sighed. “So did you ask Rhys about Lilah?”

  The question was asked so casually, so conversationally, that it took her a moment to comprehend it.

  He gave her an impatient look.

  “Yes.”

  “And he denied everything I said, didn’t he?”

  “No-not exactly.”

  He started to walk toward her. “Really? What did he say?”

  She tried to back away farther, but her shoulder hit the marble molding around the fireplace.
>
  He stopped just an arm’s length from her. “Tell me.”

  “He said that he did-he was intimate with her. But that he didn’t force her.”

  Christian rolled his eyes. “The same old story.”

  Jane glanced at the door. She couldn’t make it from this angle. He’d grab her as soon as she tried to get past him. Could she outrun a shadow, anyway?

  “But Rhys couldn’t tell you much of the story, could he? Since he was still hiding the whole vampire aspect.”

  He didn’t wait for her to respond. “So he couldn’t tell you about the fact that he wasn’t with Lilah just the once. He was with her many times. It is true that they only had intercourse that once, but vampires don’t have to have intercourse to be intimate. A vampire’s bite is every bit as intimate as sex. And Rhys bit her many times.”

  Jane glanced at the door again, inching slightly in that direction.

  Christian noticed, moving closer, until she was nearly pinned to the wall. She stared up at him, and he smiled, a cold smile that didn’t reach his frosty eyes.

  “Does it bother you that Rhys bit Lilah? Just like he bit you?” He brushed a finger over the bandage still on her neck.

  Rhys bit her? Yes. She suddenly knew it was true.

  “Did you like his bite?” His voice was low. His finger still touched her neck, trailing from the bandage to her bare skin.

  She shuddered, his touch making her skin crawl. She didn’t answer.

  “What do you think? Would you like it if I bit you?”

  Panic rose in her belly, in her chest.

  “Rhys wouldn’t like it if I bit you,” he said softly, not looking in her eyes, but at the spot where his finger drew a little circle against the side of her neck. “He wouldn’t like it one bit.”

  She swallowed, trying to remain calm. “I think you’ve been asking the wrong questions.”

  His finger paused, and his eyes met hers. He smiled sardonically. “And what questions should I be asking?”

  She swallowed again. “Maybe you should be asking if it was Lilah who liked Rhys biting her.”

  His smile disappeared, and his eyes narrowed into a frigid glare. “You didn’t know Lilah. She was madly in love with me. She’d never have gone to Rhys willingly.”

  “But I do know Rhys. And he’d never hurt his brother. He loves you, and misses you. He aches to have his family back.”

  Christian laughed, the sound cold, hard. “You don’t know anything about this.” He leaned closer. “And you don’t need to. But you are going to help me show my brother how I’ve felt all these years. How I still feel.”

  She gaped up at him. Fear strangled her. What did he mean? What was he going to do?

  He touched a hand to her hair, running his fingers through the strands, gentle, almost tender. “Rhys needs to understand what he’s done.”

  Suddenly, his fingers yanked her hair hard, snapping her head back at a painful angle until her neck was fully exposed.

  She whimpered.

  “And killing you, Janie, is the best way I can think of to make my point.”

  Before she could speak or cry out, his teeth sank deep into her neck. She didn’t feel any pleasure-only pain and mind-numbing fear.

  CHAPTER 27

  Blinding terror gripped Rhys. He struggled out of bed, the fear so strong his limbs were weak with it.

  He shoved the fear aside and concentrated. Jane was in the library. She was in pain. She was scared.

  He fumbled with his pants, then raced toward the room where he knew she was-and he knew, too, who else was with her.

  Don’t let this be happening, his mind begged.

  As he raced down the hallway, he heard Sebastian’s door open, and he heard Sebastian following behind him.

  Please, please, let her he okay. Please.

  *

  At first, Christian didn’t recognize it. He sucked in the initial warm gush of Jane’s blood, and the flavor filled his mouth. Sweet and delicate. But the more he drank of her, the stronger it got.

  Suddenly, he wasn’t just tasting her blood. He was feeling her. Her emotions were his, her thoughts. His knees started to buckle under the power of it.

  He caught himself, bracing a hand on the wall behind her, refusing to stop. This was the revenge he’d waited for. Longed for. He wouldn’t stop.

  But her emotions bombarded him. Pain, fear, but much, much stronger than either of those was something that was unfamiliar. The «thing» he tasted as soon as he bit her. A feeling he couldn’t understand. But he responded to it. Helpless to do otherwise.

  Suddenly the nebulous emotion shaped in his head. Took a form. Found a name. It echoed through his mind.

  Love.

  He could feel Jane’s love throughout him like wave after wave of warmth, all around him, curling over his skin. The love she felt for Rhys. A fated love. A true love.

  How could this be unfamiliar? He’d loved Lilah. Lilah had loved him. Why didn’t he immediately recognize the taste of it on his tongue?

  Because he’d never tasted this in Lilah’s blood, his mind told him. Even as he denied it again, he knew it was true. He’d never tasted sweetness or caring. He’d never felt warmth that encircled him. Held him.

  Just greedy hunger. Constant craving. Had he somehow mistaken that for love?

  He stopped feeding and looked down at Jane. Now barely conscious, she hung limply in his arms. But even in her unaware state, he could still sense that her connection with Rhys was intact. Calling to him.

  Christian had never felt that with Lilah. Lilah had never reached out. Never connected to him. And he’d never been able to reach her. Not like this.

  He shook his head angrily and repositioned his fangs over Jane’s neck. He could have had this with Lilah. It was Rhys who had ruined that. He was the one who’d destroyed everything.

  But even as he returned his teeth to Jane’s throat, he knew it wasn’t true. Lilah hadn’t ever, ever felt like this.

  Christian lifted his head again, staring at the woman in his arms. His brother’s love. His brother’s mate. But now, she looked like a broken angel in his embrace.

  A wretched sound escaped him. What had he done? What had he spent years believing?

  He scooped Jane up into his arms and crossed to the sofa. He laid her among the cushions, unsure what to do. Confused without the rage that had driven him for years.

  Then the door slammed open, and Rhys charged into the room. His eyes were wild as he searched for Jane, barely registering Christian at all.

  He found her, running to her. Kneeling beside her. His hands shook as he touched her hair, her face, her neck.

  He stared at his hand, now covered with Jane’s blood. He saw the jagged wound oozing just below her right ear.

  He rose then and spun toward Christian.

  “What have you done?” His voice was low and filled with rage. “What have you done?”

  He charged at Christian.

  Christian accepted the blow, which knocked him hard against the bookshelves behind him. Several books fell to the ground around him.

  Rhys hit him again. This time, Christian fell to the hardwood floor. His lip was bleeding, his nose broken. But he didn’t feel the pain.

  Rhys reached for him again, hauling him to his feet. Fury burned in his eyes, and Christian knew that Rhys intended to kill him. Just as he’d once intended to kill Rhys. Only this time, Christian knew the killing would be justified.

  Rhys wanted his death for the right reasons.

  Rhys pinned him against the bookshelves and stared at him.

  “Lilah had sex with me. She charmed me. Hypnotized me. And when I realized what I’d done I was sick with guilt. Sick that I couldn’t stop her,” he growled, his fangs already elongated. “And those times I went to her, to bite her, I only sought retribution from her for ruining my family. For killing my baby sister.”

  Christian didn’t speak. What could he say now? He had been so obsessed with Lilah, he’d blind
ed himself to the truth. He’d refused to believe. But now that he’d felt real love, pure love, he knew he’d never known that emotion before.

  Rhys bared his teeth, moving in for the attack, when Sebastian’s voice stopped him.

  “Rhys, Jane is dying.”

  Rhys released Christian, turning toward Jane.

  Sebastian stood over her, his eyes bleak, his face drawn. “She’s barely breathing. I don’t think she’s going to make it.”

  “No!” Rhys roared, striding over to her.

  “No,” he repeated as he knelt beside her, stroking her hair.

  Sebastian watched Rhys, feeling helpless, angry.

  Christian remained against the wall, also watching Rhys. But Sebastian couldn’t see any of the bitterness or the hatred that had been a part of Christian’s features for so long.

  He looked devastated. Sick.

  Sebastian had no doubt that Christian was simply going to stand there and allow Rhys’s attack. Sebastian didn’t know what changed Christian, what brought back the brother who’d disappeared when Lilah had arrived. But he was there, leaning against the bookshelves, tormented by what he’d done.

  Christian was no longer the monster Lilah had created.

  Christian’s eyes locked with his. They stared at each other for a few moments. Then Sebastian nodded at him. A nod designed to tell Christian he understood. Or at least he would try.

  Christian didn’t react. He simply looked back at Rhys, kneeling beside Jane. Then with disgust and self-hatred burning in his eyes, Christian dissolved into shadows.

  Sebastian returned to Rhys. He was the one who needed him right now.

  “How is she?” Sebastian asked, but he already knew. Jane’s breathing was so faint, even with his keen senses he could barely register the tiny breaths.

  Rhys didn’t answer. He just kept touching her. His fingers trembling as he stroked her face, her hair.

  “You have to try and cross her over,” Sebastian said.

  “No.”

  “Are you just going to let her die?” Sebastian’s tone was terse, but he didn’t care. They couldn’t just let her die without doing something.