Born in Twilight (Wings in the Night #5)

Born in Twilight (Wings in the Night #5) Page 9

"Really, Jameson," Roland sighed. He turned from staring at the door Angelica had just closed, to face Jameson, his black satin cloak swirling theatrically. "Was that really called for?" Jameson closed his eyes and shook his head. "She thinks we're all monsters. Worse than the devil himself," he said, but he was tired. And putting a scare into the holier-than-thou Angelica hadn't given him the pleasure he'd half hoped it would. Acting as if sex with him were going to damn her soul hadn't exactly endeared her to him. She'd been so hungry for him, so wonderfully passionate in his arms...and then, she'd been disgusted by her own actions. Disgusted by him.

It infuriated him!

"Was it really her who attacked you that night?" Tamara asked, her delicate brows lifting.

"Yes."

"But why, Jameson? Has she told you why?"

He paced to the settee, and sank onto it, sighing. "She hasn't. But I have a pretty good idea." They were all waiting, expectant eyes on him. "Look, I'll explain it all later. Right now, we need to find Amber Lily and-'"

"Amber Lily?" Tamara said, her eyes widening, her lips softening in a tremulous smile. "Oh, Jamey, that's beautiful."

And he couldn't help smiling back. "Yes, and so is she," he said. "Angel says that her eyes are wide and round and dark, and that her hair is curly."

"Angel?" Tamara frowned. "That's an odd thing to call a woman you seem so...angry with." Jameson averted his eyes. Unusual, indeed. It was a damned term of endearment. When had he slipped into the habit of calling her that? It had begun as a sarcastic barb. But it had become more.

"Jamey?" Tamara said, searching his face. "Are you sure there isn't something more going on betwe-"

"Enough of this sentimental nonsense." Rhiannon's voice filled the room with its tone of command, and Tamara cut herself off. "I do believe we have a situation here that needs attention. That woman in the next room attempted to murder one of us. Our own Jameson. And I, for one, am not about to let such a crime go unpunished."

She took a step toward the bedroom. Jameson's stomach clenched. Jesus, what had he done? He'd been furious with Angelica, yes, but why had he run his mouth the way he had? Rhiannon's temper was nothing less than explosive...especially when someone she cared about was hurt. He jumped from his seat and stepped into her path, holding his hands up. "Rhiannon, no! Wait-"

"Wait?" she said, lifting her brows. "That creature fed on you. Tried to murder you, and you tell me to wait?'"

Jameson looked past her, searching Roland's eyes for assistance. Roland only shrugged. "She does have a point."

"Of course I do. I'll never forget the way we found you, Jameson, lying there near death in that crumbling ruin! The woman must pay. Now step aside and let me deal with her."

"Dammit, Rhiannon, it wasn't like you think!"

She narrowed her eyes. "Move on your own, darling, or I'll do it for you."

"No. Listen to me, dammit. She'd only just been brought over, and she thought that made her some kind of monster. She refused to feed, thinking it was a sin."

Rhiannon lifted her brows. "Surely the one who made her could have clarified-"

"She was alone, Rhiannon, and scared to death. By the time I found her she was half-starved and two thirds out of her mind. I don't think she even knew what she was doing."

"Make all the excuses you want for her, Jameson. She attacked you, and now she's going to regret it." Rhiannon put one hand on his shoulder and shoved him aside.

Jameson caught himself, and stepped into her path again. "You're not laying a finger on her, dammit!

She's the mother of my child, Rhiannon, and if you want her you'll have to go through me." Rhiannon tilted her head to one side, folded her arms across her chest and gave him a very small, very smug smile. "That's about what I thought," she said. "Well now, perhaps you'd best remember this little episode, Jameson dear, before you go terrorizing the poor creature again." She poked him in the center of the chest with a long, dagger-sharp nail. "Because if you don't, you'll answer to me." And then she turned to Roland, and winked. "Thank you, darling, for not interfering."

"I knew you were pulling Jameson's chain, Rhiannon. And I was certain you had a point to make." Eric lowered his head, shaking it slowly and sighing. "You had me worried," he admitted. "I thought blood was about to be shed."

Tamara laughed aloud. "And I thought you were going to step in and ruin everything," she said to Eric.

Jameson just shook his head as his tense muscles finally uncoiled. He'd thought Rhiannon seriously meant to do Angelica harm. He should have known better. The witch was just tormenting him, trying to prove some obscure point or other. "Damn you for that, Rhiannon."

"You'll thank me for it someday," she told him. "Now step aside so Tamara and I can attempt to speak with the woman you were so willing to risk your life for."

"I wouldn't call that risking my life," he said, but he moved. Now that he knew Rhiannon wasn't going to hurt Angelica, he was more than willing to let her pass.

Rhiannon lifted her regal brows. "Then you don't know me very well." Then she sailed past him. With a penetrating glance at the door, which released the locks, she walked into the bedroom, Tamara close on her heels.

"Now, Jameson," Roland said, stepping to the mini-refrigerator and opening it. "Where are they keeping this daughter of yours?"

Rhiannon was like an ancient queen. She wore a skintight, scarlet dress that swept the floor at her feet, with a dramatically plunging neckline. Her nails were long and sharp and painted bloodred.

Tamara looked like an ordinary young woman. She wore jeans, as Jameson seemed always to wear, too, and a turquoise sweater with pale flowers embroidered all over it. She was petite, soft-spoken, and had a warm, easy smile. Of the two, she was the more approachable, or the one I feared least, anyway.

"Don't look so afraid," Rhiannon said in her deep, rich tones, and she even smiled a little. "Jameson explained everything. You heard, did you not?"

I nodded, though I was still shaking. "It surprised me...that he'd bother to defend me at all."

"Why does that surprise you, fledgling?" Rhiannon asked.

"B-because...he hates me."

Rhiannon slanted a dark glance at Tamara. Tamara winked. "No doubt he'd like you to keep right on thinking that," she said. "But now you know better, right?" I closed my eyes, lowered my head and battled the tears that seemed always to be trembling near the surface. "I don't know anything anymore. Not who I am...or what I am. Or what I feel."

"Oh..." Tamara came close to me, sliding her arms around my shoulders, hugging me like a sister. "Oh, Angelica, you're crying! There, now, please. It's going to be all right. I promise you." I sniffed and lifted my eyes to hers. Beyond her, I saw Rhiannon roll her eyes, and begin to pace. "How can you not know what you are, dear? You're immortal! All this blubbering is no more than a waste of time. You should be reveling in your new nature. Relishing it!"

"Rhiannon, it's harder for some. Be patient." Tamara turned again to me, her eyes very large and very kind. I was surprised to see such things in the eyes of one of the damned. "It takes time, Angelica. But soon you'll realize that you're the same woman you were before. The changes are only physical. So your diet has changed, and you're stronger now. Your senses are heightened, and you'll never die of those bothersome 'natural causes' that take so many mortals. You won't age. But deep down, inside, where it counts, you're just the same."

I faced this sweet-faced vampiress, more ashamed than I'd ever been, and I shook my head. "But I'm not ."

"Sure you are. I'll prove it to you. Tell me, what did you do before you were brought over?" I blinked away my tears. "I was...I was studying with the Solemn Order of the Sisters of Mercy. In another week, I'd have taken my solemn vows, and..." I broke off there as the two women looked at each other, eyes wide.

"You were..." Rhiannon whispered, "a nun ?"

"Almost," I said.

"Good God, no wonder you're so thoroughly distraught!" Rhiannon paced across the floor. "Certainly not a candidate for immortality," she ranted. "Not this kind, at least. Who brought you over? He took you by force, didn't he? You certainly didn't ask for this! Tell me his name and I'll teach him a lesson about-'"

"He's...he's dead."

Rhiannon seemed to skid to a halt in the center of the bedroom.

I lifted my chin and met her astounded eyes, ready to take whatever punishment she'd attempt to dole out, as I confessed my dark secret. Not only had I attacked her friend and left him for dead, I had actually murdered another of her kind. But I wasn't going to deny it. "He killed an innocent man, right in front of me," I said. "And then he tried to force me to do the same, to a boy. Just a frightened boy. And I couldn't. So I..." I closed my eyes, swallowed the lump that came into my throat, nearly choking me.

Rhiannon came closer, staring down into my face. "You killed him, didn't you?" I opened my eyes, but was unable to face her. Looking at my hands in my lap, I nodded once. Only silence came from the two, and when I got up the nerve to look at them again, Rhiannon's lips had curved very slightly at the corners in a mysterious, Mona Lisa smile.

"My, my," she said. "You might just be made of sterner stuff than is at first apparent."

"He deserved what he got," Tamara said softly. "You mustn't blame yourself, Angelica. It's not a sin to kill in defense of another."

"I wasn't defending anyone when I nearly killed Jameson, though, was I?" I turned and paced away from the two of them, miserable and disgusted with myself. They seemed so good, and so sure of themselves. Graceful and wise, and somehow quite comfortable with what they were. Why couldn't I be like them? I wondered.

"Well," Rhiannon said, "there might have been a bit more involved there."

"Yes," I said. "I was hungry. Such a selfish reason to hurt someone."

"Somehow I doubt you hurt him much." Rhiannon's eyes met Tamara's, and it seemed to me they twinkled. "The taking of blood from a living being is more than simply feeding, darling. As I'm certain you learned that night. It's quite sexual, actually. At least, it is if there is already an attraction there." I know I blushed. I averted my eyes.

"Don't be embarrassed," Tamara said. "It takes some getting used to, Angelica. This must be very hard on you. But believe me, if you're still having... feelings for Jameson, it's only natural. Once you drink from a man, any existing attraction sort of...well, gets magnified."

"Magnified, hell, it explodes," Rhiannon added. "But it should be a comfort to you to know that it works the same way on him." She smiled more fully now. "And from the way he stepped in front of me to protect you, fledgling, I suspect you two have exchanged a bit more than blood by now."

"Please, I can't bear to talk about this anymore!" I turned my back to them both, covering my face with my hands.

"Rhiannon," Tamara scolded. "Can't you see she's mortified by all of this? She was a nun, for heaven's sake. They're celibate, you know."

"Well then I'd say she had a narrow escape. She's obviously not cut out for that sort of...chastity." She grimaced when she said the last word. "The sooner she gets beyond that, the better. It's such a mortal response! We're vampires , fledgling. We feel as no other creature can feel. It's the best part of being what we are, don't you see that? A gift. A blessing, really." I whirled on her, then, horrified by her heresy. "How can you talk about blessings and gifts? Don't you know that you're damned now? We all are!"

Rhiannon stared right into my eyes, blinking in surprise. "First, little one-and you might want to file this away in that righteous little brain of yours for future reference- never shout at me. Never. I am older than ten of your lifetimes. I am Rhiannon, of Egypt..."

"Here we go," Tamara muttered.

"Daughter of Pharaoh, princess of the Nile," Rhiannon went on. "Worshiped by men. A goddess among women. Envied by all-"

"Enough, already, Rhiannon. She gets the picture. You want to move on to point number two, now?" Rhiannon scowled at Tamara, but it was a playful scowl. "Just making sure she has the facts," she said, then turned to me once more. "Secondly, who are you to say who is damned? Do you pretend to know the mind of the Almighty? How do you know it wasn't He who created us? Would a loving God damn one simply for being different?"

I blinked in shock. But Tamara picked up the conversation from there, and I ended up staring at her.

"You're so sure we re evil, Angelica. But how do you know? Because that's the way horror films have painted us? Surely that isn't enough to go by." She took my hand. "There are good and bad among us, just as there are among any race of people. So look at us, Angelica. Look at who we are. What is it about us that would make us evil? We don't hurt anyone. We don't kill-"

"Well, not unless someone really asks for it," Rhiannon said. Then she offered me a wink.

"Why should we be damned just because we drink blood, and exist by night? Mortals eat meat, don't they?"

I tilted my head and studied them. Two, kind, beautiful women. Vampires. Telling me that they were not servants of Satan. But just people. Just people, like anyone else.

"I don't know what to say." I shook my head slowly as I tried to look at them that way. As just people.

"I hadn't thought of it this way. All I've thought of since the night I was changed, was finding a way to go back to what I was before."

"You still are what you were before," Rhiannon said. "Only better."

"Angelica," Tamara said, "we came here to help you get your baby back. But...but I'd like to do more than that. I'd like to be your friend...if you'll let me."

I saw nothing but sincerity in Tamara's eyes. And then I glanced toward Rhiannon, to see if she felt the same.

Rhiannon shook her head. "This is beginning to resemble a scene from Steel Magnolias ," she said in a sarcastic tone. "Accept our offer of friendship, Angelica, before she starts weeping." But beyond the flippant words, I could see that she, too, wished to help me. Why, I did not know. I had done nothing but judge and condemn them both. Truly they were showing more godlike qualities than I had.

"I accept," I said. "And I'm sorry for what I said before. That you were damned. You're right, I'm not God. It's wrong of me to sit in judgment."

Tamara smiled and started forward, opening her arms to Rhiannon and to me.

Rhiannon held up a hand. "I do not do group hugs," she said softly. "And I believe we've wasted enough time. There is a child out there in need of our help. And if any of those bastards has done a thing to harm her, then I doubt even God Himself can protect him from Jameson's wrath." She lowered her head. "And if He does, He should probably worry about mine, next."

"I think Amber Lily is safe...for now, at least."

Both women turned to me, brows lifting in question.

"Your friend," I said to Tamara. "The woman, Hilary Garner. We think she's taken the baby and gone into hiding, somewhere."

Tamara sighed hard. "If she has, then you're right. The child couldn't be safer. Hilary is a good person." Rhiannon narrowed her eyes. "She is," Tamara insisted.

"We'll get her back, fledgling. Make no mistake about that," Rhiannon said. "Now perhaps you ought to put on some shoes." This with a sheepish glance at my bare feet.

It was Tamara who dived into the closet and emerged with a pair of dainty black flats. "These will look great with that dress." She handed them to me. "And the dress is fabulous on you. Jamey's eyes will pop out."

"Jamey," I whispered, half-smiling at the cute nickname his friends had given him. How he must hate it.

"He could not possibly care less what I look like."

"You're mistaken about that, young one," Rhiannon told me. But of course, she was wrong.

There was a tap on the door, and then it opened. Jameson stood there, and when his gaze met mine I sensed something that could almost have been concern in his eyes.

"Is everything all right in here?" he asked, pulling his gaze from mine and looking from Tamara to Rhiannon.

"Being born in this century, Jameson," Rhiannon said, walking past him and pausing at his side, "you obviously know very little about honor and chivalry. I'd strongly suggest you learn it." She stared hard into his eyes. "Soon."

"And I'd strongly suggest, Rhiannon, goddess among women, that you learn a little something about minding your own business."

She lifted a hand, and I held my breath, half-expecting her to strike him. Instead, she gently patted his cheek. "You're lucky I adore you," she told him.

"Enough wasting time," the cloaked man said, coming forward to slip a possessive arm around Rhiannon. When he did, she rubbed herself against his side almost like a cat. "Jameson has reason to believe Hilary Garner has run off somewhere with the child. We have to track her down immediately. She won't be able to hide from DPI for very long."

"Yes, Angelica told us." Tamara paced into the other room. "Hilary had relatives up north. She used to talk about visiting there. Some cabin in the mountains."

"That's too vague," I said. "How will we find it? And even if we do, what if that isn't where she's gone?"

"If you know about this cabin, Tamara," the other man, Eric, said, "then chances are, DPI knows as well."

"If they do, it will be in Hilary's file. Eric, if we could get to a computer..."

"We could tap into the DPI information banks, get everything they have on Hilary and go from there," Eric said, nodding hard.

As they discussed their plan, speaking rapidly, I felt my heart sinking in my chest, so rapidly that it left me dizzy. Pressing my palm to my breast I sank against the wall, all my breath rushing out of my lungs.

"What is it, Angel?" Jameson-the only one of them who seemed to detest me-stood close to my side.

"What is it?" he demanded, searching my face.

"I don't know. I just feel...we have to go to her. Now. We can't wait." He stared hard into my eyes. Not looking away, he said, "She feels...there's a connection to the baby.

She senses things. We should start north, right now." Finally, he broke eye contact, turning to Tamara.

"Can you give me anything else to go on, anything at all?"

Closing her eyes, Tamara seemed to search her memory. "Hilary used to take the train north to someplace called Petersville. I think she'd rent a car and drive from there."

"Then that's where we'll go," Jameson said. He took my arm and pulled me upright again, none too gently.

"Perhaps Tamara and I should start north with Angelica," Rhiannon said, and to my surprise, I detected a note of concern for me in her voice. "You men can work on getting more information and then join us there."

"Not on your life," Jameson snapped.

Tamara and Rhiannon exchanged amused glances.

"Forget what you're thinking. I don't suppose my dark angel told you her plans, did she?" He scowled at me. "No, I didn't think so. She wants to run from me, monster that I am, at the first opportunity. Use this psychic link to find Amber Lily and then take her away where I'll never have the chance to put my godforsaken, cursed hands on her. Isn't that right, Angelica?"

"If you still believe that, then you truly are a monster," I whispered at the hate I saw in his eyes. "I'm only just now beginning to realize that it has nothing to do with the fact that you're a vampire. You must have been just as monstrous as a mortal man." I tugged my arm free of his hateful grip and stalked back into the bedroom for the shoes I'd left lying on the bed.

"She doesn't set foot out of my sight," I heard him saying, his tone commanding and harsh. "Not for a minute. I don't trust her as far as I can throw her."

"Jameson, for heaven's sakes," Roland said.

"Lad, you have a great deal to learn," Eric put in with a sigh. "I thought we'd taught you better. Will you listen to yourself?"

"Oh, let him be," Rhiannon interrupted him. "Can't you see, Eric, darling? He thinks he's fooling someone-besides himself. I mean."

"Damn it, Rhiannon-"

"Oh, do shut up," Rhiannon replied. "Take your fledgling and go north, Jameson. We'll find out what we can here, and then we'll join you." And then she lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. Why she bothered, I did not know. She must have known I could still hear her very clearly. Perhaps it was only for effect. "And take good care of her, Jameson. Take very good care of her. If harm comes to her, you'll have to answer to me for it."

"What's this?" he said, astonished. "You her best friend all of a sudden?"

"I...like her," Rhiannon replied. And she said nothing more. I heard her soft steps coming closer. She came into the bedroom, where I was sitting on the bed's edge contemplating the pretty shoes Tamara had found in the closet. "Don't take any nonsense from him, Angelica. Never forget, you're of the superior gender."

"It's difficult to feel superior, when I've somehow become his prisoner." I knew Jameson could hear me if he cared to listen. But I didn't care.

"Prisoner, posh!" Rhiannon said. "Have you tried to escape him yet?" I shook my head. "No, of course not."

"I doubt he could keep you here against your will, Angelica. In our kind strength comes largely with age.

And he's no older than you. Younger, in fact, if only by a few days." I tilted my head, my eyes widening in wonder. "You mean...I'm as strong as he is?"

"Quite possibly so, darling. Keep that in mind when he gets bossy. And remember, if you're not trying to escape, you're here of your own free will. No matter what he tells you." My chin rose a bit. "Thank you, Rhiannon."

She smiled slightly, then turned and strode from the room. As she passed Jameson, she whispered,

"Prisoner, indeed. Did we teach you nothing at all?" But she never slowed her pace. She marched right out the door, and the other three followed seconds later, leaving me alone, once again, with the man I wished I could detest.

He stared at me for a long moment, in silence.

"They...are not at all what I expected," I said, unsure what it was he was waiting for.

"No," he said. "Because you were expecting a band of monsters like something out of an old horror film."

I shook my head. "Maybe. I'm not really sure what I was expecting." He nodded. "They are the finest beings I've ever known, human or otherwise," he said, turning to stare at the door they'd just exited. "They've saved my life more than once, risked their own safety for me often, been like family to me."

"And made you one of them when I had left you for dead," I whispered.

"Yes."

"And yet they don't hate me for that."

He shrugged, and reached out as if to take my arm. But still stinging from his earlier biting remarks, I shrugged away from his touch.

"I forgot," he said, his eyes boring holes into mine. "My touch repulses you...even when you're the one to ask for it. I'll try to remember that from now on, Angelica."

"That isn't fair," I said. "You don't understand-"

"I understand, my dear, that I won't sample your charms again even if you beg me to. Or...should I say, when you beg?"

"I would never-"

"Save it," he said. "Only time will tell, Angel. I'm just letting you know in advance that I won't stain your snow-white flesh by putting my cursed hands on you again. So don't hold your breath waiting." My anger flared as it seldom had before. I hadn't been repulsed by him, as he seemed to think. But I was now. "Has it even occurred to you, Vampire, that I saved your worthless life by doing what I did?"

"And you have my undying gratitude," he said, his eyes flashing with sarcasm. "Next time I find you dying for lack of blood, honey, I'll return the favor. Give you a little of mine and screw you senseless while I'm at it. You'd like that, wouldn't you?"

I lashed out with my hand, hitting him hard across the face. So hard his head snapped around sideways, and an angry red welt appeared on his cheek.

He snagged my hand in a cruel grip, and pulled me tight to his body. His hard chest pressed to my breasts, and his warm, angry breaths fanned my face as his eyes blazed down at me. And though I hated him at that moment with everything in me, I wanted him, too. And he knew it. Damn him to hell, he knew it.

"Yeah," he whispered. "You'd like that." And then he released me abruptly, turned away and left me there alone. He headed out through the exit that led to the car in its hiding place of brush and briars. And I watched his powerful strides, his magnificent grace, his tightly leashed control.

The bastard knew it, he knew that I wanted him. And I would have been humiliated by his obvious knowledge of my wanton desire for him.

Would have been...but I wasn't. Because I wasn't alone in my misery of need. He might see my hidden desires, but I could see his just as clearly. I had seen what flashed in his eyes, in spite of himself, before he turned away from me.

He wanted me, too.