by A A Mize
Dawn was breaking, and he would only have a short time to spend with her before sleep would take them both, and yet he was unsure of what she would want from him. She had left him alone the morning before, but would she this morning? If she wanted him, he would be unable to refuse her. He could feel her powers invading him, wrapping dark fingers around his mind and drawing him in. It felt as if he was caught in a dream, aware of his surroundings but unable to control anything as he entered the house and ascended the stairs.
Jaw clenched, he opened his bedroom door to see Yvette in her kimono, brushing her golden locks. The front of the robe hung open, revealing the soft curve of her breast. He knew it was a ploy to entice him, to tighten her grasp on him, but instead it brought back the memory of Sophie only a few hours prior. That memory was something to hold on to. A moment that had passed far too quickly and one that almost changed their lives forever. He could still see her standing before him like a ghost. Still smell her and feel the warmth of her skin on his. Lost in the memory, Rowan didn’t even realize that he was grinning a little.
Yvette turned to Rowan, and upon seeing the small smile on his lips, she smirked. She seemed quite pleased with herself, but if she was able to read minds, she would have known that his thoughts were of Sophie: the memory of her approaching him, the candlelight revealing the color of her skin beneath the thin gown she wore, revealing a little more than she was aware to his keen eyes. She had offered herself to him, trusted him to take care of her, to lead her into a new life. The memory of Sophie’s trust and innocence in that moment would linger with him forever.
“Hello, my love,” Yvette whispered into his ear, her arms draping over his shoulders. “Where have you been? I waited for you.”
Rowan’s grin faded as he blinked, realizing he was in Yvette’s grasp. “Hunting,” he said, stepping away from her and toward the other side of the room, slipping out of his coat and tossing it over the back of a wingback chair. His breath caught in his throat as he looked at himself in the mirror. The tension in the room thickened as he began to unbutton his shirt. He could feel her eyes on him and he became unwilling to remove any clothing at all.
The air around him turned cold before she wrapped her arms around his waist from behind, resting her head between his shoulder blades.
“You’re lying, Rowan,” she sighed. “I’m not some silly little human that you can trick.”
The words slipped from her ruby lips like poison and Rowan grimaced. He didn’t like her referring to Sophie.
“You don’t have to believe me. That isn’t my concern,” he said, nimble fingers brushed through his hair, pulling it back into a low ponytail. He didn’t want her to run her fingers through his hair. It was a weakness and as soon as those red-tipped fingers twined in his raven locks he would be done for; surrendered to her.
“You fed hours ago, maybe. But what about the rest of the time you’ve been gone?” She gripped him harder, the air around them growing colder still.
She was angry. Her voice was calm and collected, but she was shifting the very air around them. Candles flickered in their sconces, shadows cast longer than they should have, and the atmosphere became thick. It was terrifying to think of how strong she had become in only a few years, while he had grown stagnant. So confident in his own abilities that he had stopped training. Had stopped making himself stronger.
“I can smell her on you. But you know that don’t you?” She slipped under his arm to stand before him, staring up at him, forcing him to look at her. “It’s very cruel of you, dear, to lead her on like this. You know she can’t be with you forever. But I can.”
The weight of her power pressed down on him as she kissed his lips, her teeth playfully biting at his lip ring. A tingle ran across his skin, his body reacting to her in ways he couldn’t control. He was her prisoner, with only minimal control over himself. His teeth clenched as she wound her fingers around his ponytail, slowly pulling out the ribbon and letting his silky hair fall down his back.
“Give in to me,” she whispered sweetly in his ear as she stood on her toes, pushing him back toward the bed.
The back of his legs hit the foot board, eyes closed as he tried to distract himself. Images of Sophie came rushing back, and he gripped Yvette’s arms so tightly she yelped in pain and surprise. He pushed her away, ignoring the cold air around them intensifying and the flickering of candles before they were extinguished, plunging them into darkness.
“No,” was all he could manage before she pressed her lips to his once more.
That time she bit his lower lip harder, her teeth scraping the metal of his lip ring, sending shivers down his spine. He growled at her, angry that she was pushing his buttons like this, and even more angry with himself for having no power to fight back. His arms wrapped around her, pulling her close with crippling strength. She gasped, gripping his arms to push him away, but it was no use. There was a small part of him fighting back against her, but he knew that soon he would give in, as he always had.
The smooth curve of her throat caught his eye and his fangs grazed the flesh. He felt compelled to feed from her, drain her body and leave her corpse in the bayou where no one would ever find it. Oh, how he would relish the sensation of feeling her body grow limp in his grasp. And yet, he couldn’t make himself do it. It would mean death for him as well and he didn’t hate himself nearly as much as he hated her.
“Why are you doing this to me?” he growled, still gripping her tightly, nails digging into her kimono as he hid his face in her honey blonde hair. He was a lion in a cage, wanting to run free, to tear his master asunder for confining him, but knowing to bite the hand that feeds means death.
“I don’t know what you mean, my love.”
“Yes, you do. Why can’t you leave me alone? Let me be.”
He was losing strength and the will to fight against her. All he wanted was to sleep and yet he didn’t want to stop fighting back. A flash of Sophie crossed his mind and he found himself wishing again that things were different. With that thought, he closed his eyes tight.
“Oh, Rowan...I can’t do that. I love you. I always have and I will have you. It’s just taking extreme measures right now. You’ll see, once we leave this place, everything will be better for us. You know it’s easier to give into me. Once you do, you’ll feel better,” she said, unbuttoning his shirt.
Rowan struggled to draw breath as his eyes locked with hers and although he couldn’t see much outside of their oceanic depths, he could feel her bare skin against his and he knew she was right. His mind would never stop hating himself, or her, but there was an ease to giving in. He swallowed hard when he lips met his, her hands sliding under his shirt to embrace him. His body was giving in and no amount of shame could stop it.
46
The night air was balmy and quiet, broken sporadically by the distant sounds of the road and the river. The weather was returning to normal and Samiell seemed happy for it. The Notary was waiting for Rowan when he arrived and was sitting on the manor’s veranda in a wicker backed rocking chair.
Sarah met Rowan at the top of the stairs, offering him a glass of wine. Rowan kissed her hand, as he always had, and accepted the drink. It was odd that she would offer him wine instead of tea, but he didn’t question it. Sarah nodded politely and excused herself. His gaze followed her across the porch, lingering on the doorway for a moment after she disappeared into the house.
“She always seems to know what I need,” Samiell said with a fond smile as Rowan continued to stare at the door. “She’s a clever one. I couldn’t have asked for better.”
Rowan swirled the wine in his glass, watching the reflections of colors around it cast their hues into its deep reds. It was his drink of choice. Perhaps Sarah knew he was getting tired of tea. Never in all the years he and Samiell had been acquaintances had he been around the Notary as much as the past couple of weeks. He never would have imagined the man drank so much tea.
“Horus should arrive shortly,” Sam
iell stated.
“Good.”
“Sarah tells me that Sophie is better this evening. Maybe you would like to see her?”
Rowan didn’t reply. He sat there in the wicker chair, sipping his wine, until the it was gone. Then he set the glass beside Samiell’s teacup. He stood, walked to the edge of the veranda, and stared up at the moon.
“I envy you,” Samiell said.
“For what?” Rowan asked, looking back over his shoulder.
“Your youthful appearance. To be forever young and beautiful. You must understand that I hold a fair amount of bitterness and resentment toward my Mentor for Turning me so old. Can you imagine how it felt to have lived nearly a century, seen my children grow up and their children… and their children. To have outlived my wife of seventy years and be ready for death, at peace with it, only to have that stolen from me? I envy your beauty. But I don’t envy you the decision you must make. About Sophie staying with you.”
“The decision has been made,” Rowan said, turning his back to Samiell. It wasn’t easy but it was for the best. Even if he wasn’t a Leader and didn’t have the responsibilities that title came with, after what happened when he had returned home had only proved that as long as Yvette was around his life would never really be his own.
“I’m sorry that it has to be this way, friend. I truly am. But perhaps you should tell her soon, to avoid further pain.”
“Has she eaten?” Rowan asked. All day he had lain in his bed, staring at the ceiling, thinking of how to tell her. Of what to tell her. Her world and his didn’t mesh. They couldn’t. He had to let her go.
“And there’s that wall again. You know, Rowan, if you opened up to people once in a while your life would be much more at peace. But to answer your question, no. I don’t think she has. Feel free to use my kitchen as you please. Oh, and if you don’t mind making enough for all of us, that would be fantastic. I’m sure Horus would enjoy seeing what you’ve been up to.”
“Very well.”
“If I might make a request? How about some Italian tonight? I don’t care what.”
“Of course,” Rowan said, eying Samiell before retreating to the house. It was completely pointless for a Turned to eat, but Rowan would humor the Elder anyway. It was the least he could do when Samiell had given refuge to Sophie in their time of need.
In the kitchen, Sophie sat alone, drinking some coffee and reading a book. Rowan stopped in the doorway taking her in and for a moment he considered reading her thoughts; gain insight on her emotions before speaking to her but he decided against it.
Within seconds her eyes were on him, watching him as he walked across the kitchen, turned his back to her from where she sat at the island and began to cook. They remained in silence for a long time while Rowan prepared and chopped ingredients, the air between them thick with unspoken words.
“I’m sorry. About last night,” Sophie said.
“There’s nothing to apologize for,” Rowan replied, thinking about her dark hair shimmering with red hints in the candlelight, the wavy locks falling around her bare shoulders and over her nightgown. He couldn’t help but recall the color of her skin in that light, or the amber tones in her eyes. Or the desperation he saw in their depths. If only she knew that he thought of her when he was with Yvette.
“I shouldn’t have asked that of you. I didn’t really want that. To be Turned, I mean. I just feel I’ve come to rely on you and Matthias too much since I’ve been here. What happened last night...I was terrified, and I wanted a way to protect myself.”
“You have a way to protect yourself,” Rowan said, realizing that what he meant wasn’t possible. He had to do it now. He had to tell her. “Sophie. I understand why you don’t want this life. Perhaps if I had known all that it entailed, I might have made a different choice. But I also want you to understand that your world can only align with mine for a short time. This can’t last. It’s only natural. You will eventually grow old, and… and some day you will pass on from this life. But I will not. Neither will Samiell, or Artashir, or Matthias.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Sophie...” Rowan sighed, gripping the counter as he searched for the right words. “You know that Matthias must leave in only a few years, yes?”
“Yeah, it’s so people won’t realize he’s not aging, right?”
“Yes. I have been able to remain in the same place for so long because I’ve not created ties with humans. I still take precautions: changing jobs, cars, hunting grounds. I respect your decision to keep your humanity. I’m glad you made that choice, as I don’t want to take the chance of you becoming like me. But it also means that you’ll need to find your own way in this city. You can stay with me until all of this is over, but then you must leave. As much as it pains me to admit, keeping contact with you will be too difficult for me. I’m sorry that it has to be this way.”
Sophie only nodded, her eyes cast down at the counter top. He resisted the urge to touch her, to comfort her and he turned his back to continue cooking. Pressure tightened around his heart but he did his best to push it aside, layering ingredients and putting the dish in the oven. She didn’t speak and the silence between them intensified the crushing pressure in his chest. He had to say something. Anything.
“Please don’t think that this is because of last night, or because of anything you have done. It’s something that I’ve given a lot of thought and I think it would be best for everyone involved if you didn’t linger too long.”
It wasn’t completely the truth. He was protecting himself more than anyone else. There was too much attachment to her and he feared it would break down every wall he had worked so hard to build over the years. Old as he was, he could still remember the pain of losing those he loved. He didn’t want to feel that way again.
Before any more could be said about it, Sarah entered the kitchen, holding the door for Samiell and his Mentor, Horus. He was large, about as tall as Matthias and just as thick. His hair was fiery red and curly, matching his beard. He smiled broadly, showing off rows of straight, white teeth. Green eyes sparkled mischievously as he went straight to Rowan and wrapped his arms around him.
“Rowan, how’ve ye been? Ye look pale, lad...perhaps ye should get out more,” he joked, clapped his hands on Rowan’s shoulders.
“I’m well, Horus.”
“Rowan...yer manners are lackin’.” Horus’s gaze caught Sophie’s. “An’ who might you be, lass?”
“Sophie,” Rowan answered for her. “Her cousin was the lady who was murdered.”
“Ah, well, I’m sorry for yer loss, lassie. I’m Horus. I know the name sounds a bit off with this mug, eh? Long story short, my Mentor was an Egyptian. Yep, he Turned me, named me, and I never saw him again. Gotta love my Da. Anyway, Samiell an Rowan tell me that there may be some kinda connection betw’n her death and all this madness going on in the Quarter. If that’s the case, we’ll find out who’s involved.”
“Thank you,” Sophie muttered.
“What’re ye cookin’, Rowan? Smells great.”
“It was a pleasure to meet you, but I should go,” Sophie said before rushing out the kitchen door.
“Was it somethin’ I said?” Horus asked.
“I’m afraid young Rowan has had to break the news to her about her inability to stay with us very long. She is only human, after all, and although we’ve grown quite fond of her, we all know she can’t stay.” Samiell explained.
“Aye, it’s not an easy thing, is it? Go on Rowan, go to her,” Horus said.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” It might be better to let her be alone. Let her be angry, or hurt, or bitter. She had the right to be and it might make it easier to leave if she had those emotions in play. And still, he didn’t want her to go off by herself and stew over everything he had said. Before he could make up his mind, he heard her cry out for him, his name echoing through the manor.
The others had no chance to react before Rowan was out the door, barreling d
own the hall and sliding to a halt in the foyer. There Sophie was doing her best to hold up Matthias, desperately trying to keep him on his feet.
“Rowan! Help!” she gasped, her knees buckling under Matthias’s weight.
In an instant Rowan was at her side, bearing the weight of his Pupil. Horus slid in on the other side, allowing Sophie to step away so the men could lead Matthias to a nearby sitting area. He was roughed up, his shirt had been cut open, blood staining the gray material black, but the wound was healed. Dried blood streaked down his cheek, but there was no wound there either.
“Matthias, where have you been?” Rowan asked. “How did you get here?”
“I walked,” Matthias muttered, managing a little sarcasm as he shakily slipped out his coat. Sweat beaded across his face. “I got a cab, you ass. And as far as where I’ve been, I was passed out in an alley. Yvette. She’s...she’s a shape-shifter.”
“I knew this was a shape-shifter at work. That much was clear last night when someone who looked attacked Sophie, but I didn’t think it was Yvette. Are you sure?”
“Wait she...she did what?” Matthias pushed himself up, looking to Sophie.
“Don’t worry about it, Matthias. Nothing happened.” Her lips pulled into a tight smile and sat beside him. “But what about you? I thought you were supposed to be here before us last night? After what you said in the park, I was really worried when you weren’t here.”
“I’m so sorry, Soph. I should have come straight back here but I went out to the Ninth Ward to feed and...and Ivanka was there. I mean, Yvette as Ivanka. I didn’t recognize her until it was too late. She led me around to the alley and shot me up with something. It was just like when I fed from Rachel, only a lot more intense. Within seconds I was flat on my back in the alley, feeling as though I was about to float into nothing. Next thing I know, she’s standing over me, shifting to look like me.”