by Eve Newton
I let my eyes drift over the contents of my desk. I’m surprised that the letters I wrote to him are still here in the little cubby with the glass front, faded and crumbling. I daren’t touch them in case they disintegrate completely under my fingers, but I hover my hand as close to them as I dare.
“Thought I would find you here,” he says from behind me.
Smiling at his voice, I turn. My breath leaves me. He is dressed in soft black jeans, a tight black t-shirt and nothing else. Casual CK is a sight to behold. Mind you, he could make a sack look good.
“Did you ever read them?” I ask, pointing to the pile.
He cocks his eyebrow. “No. Was I supposed to?” he asks.
“They were for you. I thought you might have,” I say a bit disappointed. They are full of poetry and love. It would have been nice if he’d read them.
“I didn’t know. I left everything as you left it,” he says.
“Clearly it is well house kept, though. There is hardly a speck of dust,” I point out.
“A painstaking process that takes many days, my dear. The staff has their instructions,” he says.
“I see. Are you finished with your business?” I ask.
“I’m all yours now.”
“Good. Come with me.” I take his hand and swish out of the room, closing the door behind me. I walk us over to the sectioned-off right wing and step around the blockade.
CK plants his feet. “No,” he says, pulling on my hand.
“Yes,” I say. “Come.”
He looks at me with a pained expression. “No. Liv, please,” he says quietly.
Startled by the use of my current name – I had gotten used to him calling me Aefre again – and his tone, I study his reaction to stepping across the threshold.
“I need to tell you something. I need a visual aid. It’s this way,” I say as I pull on his hand again. “Come. It’s important,” I press.
His desire to do as I say wins out over whatever is stopping him from going to this part of the castle.
He hesitantly steps around the blockade. I tighten my grip on his fingers as we walk in silence down the corridor. The only sound is our bare feet padding on the thick Windsor carpet. I note, with interest, that this part of the castle was reconstructed and modernized along with the rest, but it has been neglected, uncared for. I turn right and then left and there it is: The dreaded room. The thick wooden door is closed but unlocked. I turn the handle.
CHAPTER SIXTY
P ushing it open, I stand just on the brink, not really wanting to go in.
“Aefre. What are we doing here?” he asks, breaking the silence.
Drawing in a deep breath, I make a massive effort to walk into the room, taking him with me. Then, I let go of his hand. It’s time to get over this, once and for all.
“I know what happened in this room. I just want you to know that. I’m tired of playing this game,” I say.
He looks genuinely confused and it annoys me further. “What do you mean?” he asks.
“The day I left you in 1112, I was expecting you in my bedroom. The candle burned down a ring and you still hadn’t arrived,” I start, my hands shaking at the memory. If I must run it down for him, then so be it. I continue, “I went in search of you. The servants in the kitchens told me that I could find you in the right wing. I came up here and stopped at each door until I found you. In here.” I look at him then, watching me, his expression unreadable. “With her,” I spit out with venom, “with Eloise.”
A spark of recognition flares in his wary eyes, but he remains silent, clearly still expecting more from this story.
Well, fine then. I will give it to him blow by blow. “The door was half open and I peeked through the crack. You were half naked and had a satisfied air, a ‘just-fucked’ glow about you. You were talking to her in her language, but I didn’t understand. She giggled at something you said. As you sat down on the bed, you closed your eyes and breathed in her scent deeply. She stripped off her robe and sank her fangs into your neck. That’s when I ran. I ran as far away from you as I could because you had betrayed me. You told me I was the only one! The only one allowed to bite you,” I repeat with force. “Everything else I could handle. I was dealing with it, but that, that hurt me more than you will ever know. I gave you everything, and you couldn’t even give me that one thing that you promised me in return. You claim not to know why I left, well, that is why.” I finish up my impassioned tale feeling weak and shaky. I close my eyes at his silence, trying to regain some of my composure.
My eyes flick open again as he finally speaks. “I did give you that one thing,” he says in a voice so pained, it makes my heart ache, despite my feelings of anger. “Aefre, you should not have run, my sweet,” he says, crossing over to me and taking my hands.
“I know what I saw,” I mumble.
“No, no, no!” he yells suddenly. He spins around, his fist flying into the solid wooden door, splintering it into a million pieces. My hand automatically goes up to protect my heart from the flying bits of wood. I step back, not afraid of him, but wary of this rare show of emotion. He drops his head into his hands. “No, Aefre. You don’t know what you saw,” he says, his voice hoarse.
“Constantine…” I shake my head.
“Aefre, no,” he says, ordering me to shut it. “Yes, I was in here. With her. But not like that. I was in here when I should have been with you because I was anxious about seeing you. I had something to tell you that night, something important. It made me agitated. I needed a…release,” he croaks out, looking away from me. I gulp as I know what kind of release he means. I pull my robe tighter around me, keeping my arms close.
“When the servants came back to take her away, Eloise showed up with them out of nowhere. I had no idea she was coming. When you say that you saw me breathe in her scent that wasn’t the case. I sensed you. Or rather, part of you. It was you, but it wasn’t. It confused me momentarily, distracted me as I tried to figure out what it was. That is when she tried to feed from me. I swear to you, Aefre, as soon as I felt her, I ripped her fangs from my neck. I didn’t betray you. I swear it.” He looks at me, begging me to believe him. “If you had stayed just another second, you would have seen it.”
The tears well up and start to fall silently down my cheeks as I realize that he is telling me the truth. That what I thought had happened, didn’t. I let my hatred and jealousy of Eloise, my mistrust of him, cloud my judgment. I ran from him, when I should have stayed.
He wipes my tears away with his thumbs. “I am sorry, Aefre. If I had been with you when I should have been, this would never have happened. If I didn’t have this thing inside of me, this monster, we would have been together. It is all my fault. You were hurting because you thought I had betrayed you. I gave you a reason to doubt me, more than a reason. A dozen reasons. You left me and everything that happened after that, happened because of me. Lance happened to you because of me. Can you ever forgive me?” he asks, dropping to his knees as my mouth opens in shock at his words and his actions.
I fall to my knees then as well, taking his face in my hands. I say, “No. You cannot blame yourself. I won’t let you blame yourself for this. Certainly, not for Lance’s actions. I should have stayed and found out the truth. I should have trusted you enough to know that you meant what you said. I have lived with this weighing on my mind for nine hundred years, blaming you for betraying me, when I should have been blaming that bitch.” I smile softly at him and he returns it weakly.
“I get it now, your loathing of her. I wish you had told me all of this sooner. We could have fixed it. Actually, if I am wishing for things, it would be that it never happened in the first place. Who knows, maybe we would have been together all this time,” he says wistfully.
“Charges always leave their sires. I would have gone at some point based on that,” I say reasonably. He scowls at me and I giggle.
“Now, I think you owe me an explanation,” I say.
He looks up at me
confused. “About what?” he asks.
“I have told you why I left you in 1112. Now, I want to know why you left me in 1506.”
“You know why,” he glowers at me.
“I really don’t, my love. I think this little experiment here has shown us that what we think and what is the truth, are two entirely different things.”
“Fine. Come with me,” he says, standing up then all CK-like. I sigh in relief that my sire is back. “We are in need of another visual aid.”
Picking our way over the bits of broken door, he leads us back the way we came and stops in front of another closed door. I know exactly who used to occupy this room, but I still don’t get it. He pushes it open. The room has been stripped bare of any furnishings or decoration. Just an empty shell of a room that used to be so beautifully painted, I draw in my breath in shock.
“Why? Why would you do this?” I ask him sadly.
“No reminders,” he says shortly.
“Of what? A man so brilliant that he is still revered today as one of the most influential men of the Renaissance?” I ask incredulously.
“Of the man who stole you from me,” he snaps.
“What? He didn’t steal me from you. Nobody could have done that,” I say.
“Aefre, I know what I heard,” he barks.
“Oh, just like I know what I saw?” I snap back. He has the grace to look away in shame. “Tell me what you think you know,” I say, softening slightly.
“Fine. I was down at this end of the castle finishing up a project, if you will, that I wanted to show you. I knew you were in here with him. I sensed you, heard you, but stayed just outside the area of you being able to sense me.” Again, he looks away. I smile inwardly. Being so much older than me, his range of being able to sense me is greater than my own, which is why he can sneak up on me, and his eavesdropping skills are to match. I know I can hear whispered conversations up to about ten feet away, depending on outside factors, but I know his range is longer. I couldn’t say for sure how much longer, but I would hazard a guess at around fifteen. Same goes for the other two, which is why CK spelled my Council office so that we could speak freely.
“You were eavesdropping?” I ask with a small smile.
“You could say that. I prefer to think of it as making sure you were okay,” he says haughtily. Unable to help myself, I burst out laughing. He glares at me, but then smiles himself. “Okay, yes, I was eavesdropping. Happy? You were…he made you happy, didn’t he? Pleased you well?” he continues, but I ignore him, not willing to discuss it.
He sighs at my silence and says, “After you were…finished, I heard you talking. You sounded so happy when you said, and I will remember the exact words until the end of time, ‘When we are married, I want a big celebration. I want the whole of Italy to know how much in love we are.’ Then he whispered that he loved you, that he would give you anything you wanted. I couldn’t bear it. I had thought that we were happy. That we were going to be together, to make it work that time.”
I listen in horror and sorrow and then say, “We were happy. I loved you more than ever. I wanted us to be together. What you overheard was me talking to my best friend about us, Constantine. You and me. Our wedding. How much I wanted to be your wife. How much I loved you.”
“But he told you he loved you and would give you anything you wanted?” he asks, confused.
“Yes, he told me he loved me. He did. But I did not love him back. Not in that way. What he meant was, he would give me whatever I wanted as a wedding present,” I explain.
He shakes his head in disbelief. “No. That is not what I heard.”
“Constantine, it is. Michelangelo was my friend long before we became lovers. You know that, you introduced us in Florence. When he came here, he would join me on my walks through the gardens and we would talk, about everything. He fell in love with me and I wanted him. We started sleeping together as a matter of course, but I never, ever stopped loving you. I wanted to be your wife more than anything. That is always the only thing I have ever wanted,” I admit cautiously, fiddling absently with the ring he gave me only a few hours before.
His eyes light up at my confession, but then cloud over when he realizes that he has fucked up as well by jumping to conclusions. What a pair we are.
“Fuck,” he says. “Fuck, fuck, fuck! This is…FUCK!” he yells, running his hand through his hair. “Tell me that’s a lie, Aefre. Tell me that what I heard is…tell me that I didn’t fuck up?” he says desperately.
I shake my head, “I can’t, my love. You fucked up. I fucked up. We are a pair of fucking stubborn idiots.”
He looks at me so sadly, I want to cry. I do cry. It breaks his heart to see me so upset.
“I am sorry, Aefre.” He holds me close and it eases some of the pain. But then he abruptly pulls away and says, “Leave me now for a while. Please.”
I shake my head. “No.”
“Leave me,” he snaps.
I go, my heart breaking all over again.
CHAPTER SIXTY-ONE
I need a drink after this awful afternoon, which admittedly has been my own doing. I’m disgusted with myself for being such a fool. Actually, no: this is Cole’s fault. He was the one who dredged up all this needing to know business again, I think angrily. But then I sag my shoulders. I can’t blame him. None of this is his fault. I make my way to the kitchens.
Empty.
I wonder briefly where all the staff are. My eyes land on the massive studded door at the end of the kitchen.
I gulp.
The dungeons.
I cross over quietly, hesitantly trying the handle.
Locked, of course.
“Ms. Nelson?” A woman’s voice behind me startles me.
I pull my hand guiltily away from the door. I turn to see a pretty, young-looking, Italian Vampire standing at the other end of the kitchen.
“May I help you with something?” she asks sharply.
“Erm, it’s Mrs. O’Dell,” I say. She nods hesitantly. Clearly CK is in denial. I inwardly huff at him. “I was looking for Scotch.”
She pulls a bottle and two glasses out of a cupboard near her head and places them on the big island in the middle of the floor. “Mrs. O’Dell, I am Marguerite. Mr. D’Arcangelo said that he would be bringing you and that I should make myself available to you, if you need me.”
“Thank you, Marguerite. But please, call me Liv. How long have you worked for Constantine?” I ask politely.
“Liv,” she nods. “Just a little over two hundred and fifty years,” she says. “It is nice to have some guests again. I seem to rattle around this place all by myself these days,” she adds.
I start in surprise. “He doesn’t come here often?” I query with interest.
“Not much, anymore. And always by himself,” she replies. I must look far too interested in her words as she suddenly looks upset. She realizes she’s said too much. “Please let me know if I can be of service to you,” she says then, back to being business-like. I nod, disappointed that she clammed up.
I point to the dungeon door on an impromptu fishing expedition. “Is the wine cellar down there now?” I ask innocently. “It has been so long since I was here.”
She shakes her head carefully, warily, and says, “No, it is still off the dining hall, ma’am.”
Ma’am? How did we go from Liv to ma’am in less than a minute? She clearly knows what’s down there but would never spill the dungeon beans out of the knowledge that Constantine would kill her if he ever found out she blabbed. Even to me.
“Well, thank you for this,” I say as I pour the Scotch out into the two glasses. She nods in relief that I’m not going to press the issue of what is behind door number one.
Smiling at her in farewell, I go off in search of CK. I have left him alone for long enough now.
Heading up the staircase, I find him on the main corridor, sitting on the floor in an alcove staring thoughtfully out of the window. He takes my breath away as I watch hi
m for a moment. I know he knows I’m there, but I can’t tear my eyes away from him.
“Sit,” he says.
It jolts me back into motion and I hand him the glass. He accepts it but puts it down next to him.
I sit opposite him in a matching pose of knees up, our bare toes touching slightly. I remain silent, gazing at the view he is looking at. Hundreds of trees and rolling hills for miles. I remember always wishing we could fly so that I could see them from above.
“Still wishing we could fly?” he smirks slightly.
I grin at his uncanny ability to read my thoughts. “Maybe it’s one of my newfound Powers. I’ll have to try some time,” I say.
He laughs, relaxing slightly.
“What were you going to talk to me about? That night, that made you agitated?” I ask quietly.
As if expecting the question, he holds up a ring in his hand. He drops his knees, straightening his legs. I crawl forward over him, peering at it. I reach to take it from him as I sit on his lap. He lets me, still staring out of the window. It’s a ring made from Faerie Silver.
“I don’t understand. You had already given me one,” I say in confusion.
“It’s not a protection ring,” he says quietly.
An understanding creeps up on me, but I push it away not wanting to think about it. “No,” I say adamantly.
He looks at me then. “Yes. It took me months to procure. I wanted it made from Faerie Silver so that it would stand the test of time. I wanted to put it on you and have it last for eternity, never tarnished, never chipped, never replaced. Never taken off. I was agitated because I was about to make a commitment to you, one that I had never made before in over fifteen hundred years. I was nervous. Not because I didn’t want you, but because I wanted you so much it scared me. I wanted to be good enough for you. I wanted you to only see the good in me. The evil, the monster, I never wanted you to see it. It comes out, Aefre, I can’t help it. I didn’t want to come to you like that. Maybe I should have taken my chances,” he says sadly.