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He said, "You live past things and you live on. You have to become your own person or your past will own you forever. That's the only way."
Her eyes still held unshed tears, but she seemed to understand something of what he said. "Look," she said, sniffing, "I'm sorry I lied to you, but I didn't have a choice. Everything I did, I did for Danny. I know you can't understand what it's like to be responsible for someone, but there are things you just do sometimes."
The gla.s.s shivered at Alek's back and he was glad he was blocking its view from Robyn. He said, "I do know. But running isn't the answer, Robyn. Believe me. All you are going to do is wind up hurting yourself in the end. You can't run away. It isn't that easy."
"I'm not going back to Edward," Robyn stated. "And neither is Danny. He'll have to kill me first."
And what could he say to that? Edward would kill her if she ran, if she didn't run. Circles in circles. Wheels turning, but taking their victim nowhere.
She held his eyes a moment, and then she said: "I'd better go. You've done enough already and I've f.u.c.ked up your life enough."
"It's nightfall."
"Kage is dead."
"Maybe. It depends on how he fell, how badly he was injured, and how powerful he is."
"You mean he could still be alive?" She sounded incredulous. Worse- convinced and frightened.
"I don't know," Alek answered truthfully. "But if he is, he won't rest until he has Danny, you can be a.s.sured of that."
Robyn sank down onto the cushions of the divan. Her face white, hands wringing, she said, "Come away with me?"
"What?"
"Let's get out of this city, Alek. Please. Come with me."
Alek shook his head. "That's impossible."
"Why?" Again she stood up, but smoothly this time, like a graceful little animal. "There's nothing here for you, is there?" she asked in a lilting voice. And then, quite suddenly, she undid the tie of her robe.
"You're right. We both live in the past, Alek...and we both need each other." When the robe was open she approached him, eyes seeking an answer in his face. He tried not to notice her generous charms, the full, inviting b.r.e.a.s.t.s, the pale, kissable skin and the treasure further down, all of her as silken and aromatic as vanilla cream. He concentrated on her eyes instead, the storm there. "I love you...and I know you care for me," she said. "You wouldn't have kissed me if you didn't." She trailed her finger from her lips down to the places still damp from his kisses. He looked away, his face flushed with shame.
"Why do you have to turn away?" she asked. "Do you hate me so much? Do you hate yourself?"
And then she was there, and he turned to look at her as she began to slide the robe off her shoulders. He reached for the fabric, to cover her again, but instead his hands fell lightly upon her shoulders and traced the smooth skin of her arms down to the crooks of her elbows, wondering at her, at how such a beautiful animal could be put together with such perfection and grace. She shifted slightly so that his hands fell instead upon her b.r.e.a.s.t.s. He cupped them, the calloused pads of his thumbs brushing lightly against the pert pink nipples, wondering about her, wondering if she had nourished Danny with her precious mother's milk. The thought sent an erotic shiver all throughout his body.
He stared at her as if his rampant thoughts could really touch her, wondering what Edward must feel--having her and then losing her. Her and Danny both. His family. He wondered what it felt like, to have a mate. To have a child born from that mating. She and Danny seemed to fill the empty s.p.a.ce in this dead old house with life and humming energy, vanquishing the void that forever lived here, the past that never let go. And the fantasy entertained him for some moments--he and Robyn and Danny together, a family--before reality gradually began to bleed in through the many cracks along with the futility of Robyn's generous offer. Finally, he moved his hands to the edges of the robe and drew them up, covering Robyn completely.
She stared at him a long hard moment, mystified.
"You don't know me," Alek whispered. "If I was with you, you would be no happier than you were with Edward."
"I was afraid of Edward. I'm not afraid of you," she said, her hands alighting on his chest.
"You should be. I've done things I can never talk about. Things I can barely live with..." And then he groaned as her hands dropped further down and found his most sensitive place, stroked him. The flush of heat and animal was back in his face and eyes and this time he could not help himself. He twisted in her hold, his gla.s.ses lost, shivering with the horrific l.u.s.t shooting like lightning through every nerve and starved vein in his body. He made a sound too much like an animal-snarl in his throat. And with the onrush of the l.u.s.t came also the rage-rage against her and the moon and nature and all the darkness and wanting he could hold back no longer. But more than that--rage against himself, because he was reaching for her and it seemed perfectly normal that he should have her in any way he wanted. He could have her and make her whimper, and he knew he could enjoy making her enjoy it.
And he hit her, a smart smack against the cheek, not hard but as sharp as a blade, not cutting her but separating her nonetheless from him. It was a necessary evil, a barrier between herself and the monster that would crush her if let off its leash even a moment. And having struck her, he simultaneously backed away until his shoulders. .h.i.t the mirror on the wall and he could go no farther. For a moment the mystery remained on Robyn's face like the slight red mark of his hand. Then it changed as if someone had hit a switch, and she went from absolute wonder to absolute understanding. She touched her face and frowned like a little girl being punished for a transgression she was entirely unaware of. She shook her head but there was no denying what had happened. For a moment Alek felt a powerful desire to apologize...then realized he could not. He was not sorry. He had hit her to save her life.
She didn't understand. Still clutching her cheek, she took a step back, the painful, hateful fear burning in her eyes. And it was a shivering natural human fear--a woman fear--and that at last was too much. Alek closed his eyes and said nothing in the end and only listened to the terrible sound of her retreating footsteps.
26.
For a moment, after locking the bedroom door behind her, Robyn could do nothing but stand in silence in the middle of this vast Victorian suite and look around, lost, bewildered. Danny lay asleep on the duvet that seemed from another century, his thumb in his mouth. Danny was four and he had not done that in months...but now things were going backwards, it seemed.
How had this happened? She had run from Edward and Kage, had run so far, and yet she had not gone far at all. She loved Alek, loved him with the same fierce wanting she had once felt for Edward, sitting so proud and fierce among his warriors--they both had such a presence, such barely-restrained power--but he did not love her. Or at least, did not want her, which was worse in its way. He could love her if he chose to, but he had chosen otherwise. His heart was strong but his will was stronger.
And why? Wasn't she pretty enough? Desirable enough? Robyn will be a model and her face will be her power, her Aunt Claire used to say when she was a little girl and would pose in the pretty dresses Daddy bought for her. But it would seem all that was a lie. None of it was meant to be. And Alek was wrong. He may not be exactly like Kage but he was just like Edward. Both of them wanted her but wanted to not want her. Like it was their weakness. Like it was her fault. Like Daddy, who had wanted her but did not want to want her and had punished her with the closet when he could no longer control the wanting. Like that.
Robyn began to shake with sobs, feeling like a fool, to shake and sob until she felt wrung out and finished and too tired to stand up anymore.
Then she climbed into bed next to Danny. Danny did not stir. If only she could be like that--to not dream, to not have to remember. Alek said you got past things, that you got over them. But what would he know? He'd never been hurt so badly he couldn't live with the pain. He wasn't human. He couldn't feel human pain.
He was a thing. An It. Like Kage. The sheets were black satin under the duvet. Somehow Robyn wasn't surprised by that. But they also smelled like Alek--leather and musk with the cloying, undercutting taste of metal--which made her feel as if she had somehow fallen into him with no escape in sight. She touched her face and then closed her eyes. She did not sleep, only dozed and tossed as night began to come down. Finally, after an hour or so, she climbed out of bed and went to the bundle of clothes lying on the floor, filthy and bloodstained from the sub tunnel, and dug through them until she found the bra.s.s knuckles. Useless. What defense were they against an enemy who could invade your mind? She threw them aside and continued to dig until she found the iron railroad spike she had used to send Kage to h.e.l.l where Daddy was. Clutching it like a crucifix to her heart, she returned to bed and lay down on the black sheets and closed her eyes.
In time she slept and dreamt her father came into the room, spewing Scripture and curses, and started pounding a large iron cross into her heart. She tried to move but her body just lay there like the immoveable curse it was. But because she was human and not a vampire, she would not die for Daddy's pleasure and he started to get angry with her and slap her and the sting in her teeth was horrible and she awoke some time later, grinding her teeth until her jaw hurt. She sat up, afraid suddenly. Of the dark. Of the night lurking beyond the window. Danny was still asleep and so angelic she felt her heart break inside her. He was so innocent and she could not protect him. She wept but found she had no more tears to spill. Daddy, Edward, and now Alek had taken them all from her. Taken even that. Even her sorrow.
The last of the departed dream, the pounding and the anger, was as cloying as the scent of Alek--no, no the dhampir--in the bedclothes and she got up and moved away from them. She stood at the window for some time, watching the sky and the scuttle of the night-clouds. There was blood on the moon tonight and that meant something. She frowned and again she touched her face. It didn't hurt. It hadn't, really, even from the start. Rather, the wounding was in her soul.
She held the spike against her heart, feeling its coolness burn against her skin. And then suddenly she knew what she had to do. She knew what escape was. At last. And sliding the spike into the waistband of her underwear under the robe, the spike that was her only savior, her only hope, she crept to the door and began to open it.
27.
It was a blood red Hunter's Moon tonight and he knew that that meant. The rules would bend, the rules that governed his world. Tonight thralls would turn on their masters. Females would turn on their blood- bound mates. There might even be a war, two hives invading each other's sacred ground and soiling it with blood. Alek stood at the great bay window of the Parlour--not the parlor, but the Parlour, the cozy turn-of-the-century sitting room that faced east over the city--and tried to feel the change in the environment. But the city was silent. Not the city the humans saw--that bustled and pushed and lived and breathed as usual--but the city beneath the city. The society under Society. So silent it was. Maybe because the vampires had lost interest. Maybe because his feelings were too complex right now to pick up on anything.
He didn't know.
The craving was back, gnawing at him like a rainy-day ache. But he was grateful for Robyn's presence in the house despite the conflict she aroused in him. It gave him purpose and a mission when otherwise he might give in and see what Jean Paul could do for him.
Yes--the house needed that humanity. He made the decision. When this was over he would seek out a maid or butler or chauffeur service.
Something human that could fill this house. Robyn? No. It had to be human but know nothing of his world. It would serve this house, but it would also live in danger from the very beings that sought his downfall.
The Coven. The hives he had harmed in all his years as an agent of the Coven. That was the only way he could focus on something other than the craving. He would be using the poor unfortunate individual, yes, but better that than the alternative.
Become a predator of men. Lose himself.
Even if one soul fell, that was better than a legion of them. Wasn't it?
"Hi."
He turned his head when he heard the high sweet voice of the girl.
There she stood in the Parlour, still dressed in his robe. "Hi," he said uncertainly.
She ventured forward. "I'm sorry for before."
He shrugged. He ought to be the one apologizing, but he still wasn't sorry. He had done what he did to save her. To save himself. "Things happen."
"You're very forgiving," she said. "Alek."
He had a sudden urge to run away from her. He didn't know why, only that something was wrong somewhere. He tried to pinpoint the exact feeling but it eluded him.
She reached for the front of his kimono and traced the embossed tigers there. The kimono had once belonged to Akisha. Precious, eternal Akisha. And it bore her insignia. The Tiger. Power in battle and adversity. Now Robyn touched the robe she wore with curious wonder and familiarity, and he wondered if she would make another play for him and sighed inwardly at the coming battle. Their arrangement would not work. Not in any way. He wished he could make her understand that.
But instead of trying to divest herself of the fabric, she reached into the waistband of her underpants and withdrew the railroad spike she had used on Kage. He was surprised she had kept it. She showed it to him. Its tip was rusty with age and discolored with the vampire's blood, but still very sharp. And it was iron. Deadly iron. He looked at it. What did she mean by showing it to him?
"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I love you."
Amadeus had professed such love himself, once. Alek thought about that in the second before Robyn rammed the sharpened tip of the iron stake into his heart. And then he had another thought. He thought about how everyone who ever said they loved him did so just before they tried to kill him.
28.
The dhampir glanced up at her with curiosity. He was confused and in that instant Robyn struck, spearing the tip of the spike at the creature's heart. She should have known better. Inhuman reflexes enabled the thing to shift to the left to evade the stab even as its hand closed around Robyn's wrist and squeezed. Exquisite agony shot up Robyn's arm and shoulder and she automatically dropped the spike. She tried to wrench loose, but the dhampir shoved, sending her to the floor on her knees and close to where the spike had landed. Her left hand wrapped around it as the dhampir twisted her right arm in an attempt to make her drop the spike. Gritting her teeth against the anguish, Robyn lanced the spike in her left hand up and in, the point cutting deep into the dhampir's stomach.
It was not its vulnerable heart, but it was close enough.
As if jolted by a stun gun, the dhampir stiffened, pushed her away, and tottered backward, his shoulders smashing into the window and cracking it like an eggsh.e.l.l. Knocked onto her back, Robyn saw the dhampir double over and fall to his knees, his cloak of long hair mercifully hiding his wan, tormented features from Robyn's view. It would not be like last time, Robyn reflected; it would not be like with Daddy or with Kage. She would not have to see the monster's eyes as he begged for life and then began to die for her.
Robyn rose into a crouch. By all rights the push the dhampir had dealt her should have cracked her skull open or at least stunned her. Yet it had been no worse than the slaps she had gotten from Daddy when he wanted her and didn't want to want her--which meant the creature was weak. Maybe it was dying.
There would never be a better opportunity for escape. Scrambling up, she made for the bedroom and for Danny. Not thinking. Fleeing.
Of course she should have known better. She should have known Kage was not dead. Things like Kage and like Alek and like Edward and like Kurayami and like Daddy never died. They just lived on and on, hovering at the edges of dreams and nightmares. She stopped in the doorway, just looking at Kage, or what remained of Kage, crouched in the open window.
The vampire was in pieces. Not merely his clothing but himself as well, his skin and in some places even his bones, as if the flesh had been separated and worried and sc.r.a.ped bleeding off his body, the bones broken, tendons torn and frayed like hemp. There was a gaping hole in his chest where Robyn had put the railroad spike in, and from out of that hole bubbled a seemingly endless supply of fetid black juice shot through with the poison of iron and a colony of writhing grey maggots.
Kage breathed, a rattling sound that made Robyn think of snakes and the chains on wolf traps. And then black stuff, as black as leather, as black as his inhuman, hungering eyes, coughed past Kage's torn lips and shattered teeth. .
Kage grinned but it was not a grin of pleasure, nor even one of menace.
It was hunger. Pure, animalistic hunger. b.e.s.t.i.a.l. Unbound.
He was like a G.o.d of hunger.
Hunger for her...hunger at her...
"Do you know," Kage grated like his mouth was full of blood and dirt, "what it is like...to be eaten alive?"
Robyn shook her head. She needed to back out of the room and slam the door between them, but the site of the half-eaten, ravaged creature paralyzed her. The suffering in his eyes.
Have to leave, she thought frantically, have to- Stay.
No!
Stay, said his eyes.
Stay...
He still had that power.
Kage leapt at her and it was over in seconds. She could not have reacted. She could not have resisted. She could not have uttered even a single cry of alarm. In seconds she found she was inches from his ruined face, his black, pupilless eyes. She tried to cry out, to pull away, but she was held fast in an unbreakable vise. His hands, his G.o.dlike, alien eyes...
Kage smiled.
Robyn saw the creature's sharp, bonelike teeth and smelled its meaty breath, the ghost of the things it must have consumed in the tunnel pit to get him this far. The rats. The rats he--It--had eaten, the rats that had eaten it. She nearly gagged. Eyes wide, she beheld its tongue slithering out of its mouth--a narrow, black, forked tongue. A dragon's tongue. Nausea welled up within her as the tip touched her mouth. She pressed her lips tightly shut, yet Kage rammed its tongue into her, filling her with the taste of raw iron and spoiled meat, entwining with her own, making her shudder with nausea.
Sobbing, Robyn finally began to fight for her life, scratching and clawing at Kage's face. Yet nothing she did seemed to hurt him. She peeled off strips of dripping red flesh and still he grinned his hungry grin. Kage struck her and she fell roughly back onto the bed to within inches of Danny's still, stunned form. His slap was not like Alek's, nor even like Daddy's. She saw the room dance this time. She tried to rise but she was too weak. And then Kage was there, burying under her robe, touching her everywhere, tasting her everywhere, its tongue flaying at her flesh. Rage flooded through her when the creature's tongue darted out and licked at her navel. "Leave me alone!" she screamed, squirming uselessly, pounding him with her fists and her voice and her rage.
"G.o.dd.a.m.n you all to h.e.l.l!"
"h.e.l.l," Kage said, though it was little more than a rattle forced through his b.l.o.o.d.y-caked mouth and reptilian teeth.
It was the last word Robyn heard before the creature's broken shark like teeth sliced through her throat and ended her pain forever.
29.
Alek opened his eyes and saw the demon directly overhead, backlit by the milky light of the city and the Hunter's Moon. He blinked in confusion and tried to rise.
Dizziness and a rending pain in the deepest part of himself convinced him otherwise.
"No," spoke the demon in a scathing, rattling voice. "Just lie still."
He waited, watching the attentive face of the demon. After a while he realized the demon was not a demon, after all. It was a vampire, but he took cold comfort in that fact. It was a horrendous vampire, a fiendish being covered in blood and wounds and strips of black fabric that pa.s.sed for clothing. It was something from a pit. Something from its own grave. Something unto death. As he watched, the vampire disappeared for a moment, and then stepped back into his line of vision with its hands cupped. Something splashed down on top of him, making him bite his tongue at the agony that zagged through him like a steel knife. He clamped his teeth shut, yet he could not prevent the mournful sound of anguish that rose up and up in his throat.