Kiss of Darkness (Alliance Vampires #7)

Kiss of Darkness (Alliance Vampires #7) Page 17

Bryan gasped, and Sean spun around, aware for the first time of the other man's presence.

His jaw dropped. "MacAllistair!"

But Bryan was staring at Jessica."Igrainia," he breathed.

She leapt to her feet, staring warily back at him. "Don't you dare judge me. I don't know what youthink you know, but I can guarantee you're wrong."

"You really are," Maggie murmured.

Sean set a hand on his wife's shoulder. "Maggie," he cautioned, "they need to solve this themselves."

"Solve it themselves?" Maggie protested. "His solution is to kill her!"

Jessica didn't think Bryan had heard a word anyone had said since Sean had spoken her true name. He just stared at her. She felt an iciness, a fear she hadn't known in years. Not a physical fear. Something deeper. An attack against the remnants of her soul.

They all jumped when, from up stairs, they heard a little-girl voice call out, "Mommy?"

Jessica made an instant decision. She turned to Maggie and Sean. "We've got to get out of your house and talk this out between one another."

"Jessica, I can't let you leave here with him," Maggie insisted.

"I'll be all right," Jessica said firmly.

Maggie started to protest, but her husband cut her off.

"You twodo need to work this out. Because we have a deadly situation on our hands. This Master has to be stopped, and both of you need to think about that before anything else. Am I making myself clear?"

Bryan turned to Sean. "You're right." He looked at Maggie. "Jessica has nothing to fear from me. At the moment."

"At the moment!" Maggie said, ready to do battle.

"It's all right," Jessica said, walking over to give her friend a hug.

"Mommy!"

Jessica slipped an arm casually through Maggie's, walking her toward the stairwell. "I swear to you, I'll be fine."

"You won't be fine," Maggie whispered back. "You're in love with him. You were before, you are now. And he'll lull you and seduce you-and kill you."

"No, Maggie. I'm not that foolish. I've survived this long."

"Because he hasn't known who or where you were."

"Maggie, it works both ways," Jessica reminded her. "I could kill him."

"You could, but you won't."

"Maggie, go take care of your daughter. I promise you, I'll be careful."

Maggie started up the stairs just as Sean and Bryan came up behind them. She paused, looking down in anger. "You need to find new accommodations," she told Bryan.

"Maggie," Jessica said, "Forget that for now. We need to focus on stopping the Master."

"Be back here by three this afternoon," Sean said. "I'll have gathered what and who I can by then. We need a better plan than just waiting to see what he does next. Or," he added softly, "who dies next."

"Right, back by three," Jessica said. She started out the door. Bryan followed her.

"You have your car, I see," he commented, walking around to the passenger side. "Is it your customary mode of transportation?"

"Mycustomary mode of transportation? Are you asking me if I can turn into mist? If I can shape-shift?"

"I'm assuming you can."

"Can I? Yes. Do I? Not often. Only when necessary. I actually love my car. So get in, and let's get out of here," she said pleasantly.

"So," she murmured a moment later, glancing casually his way as she pulled out of the driveway, "what about you? Are you some superhero? Can you leap tall buildings in a single bound?"

"Only when necessary," he mocked. He was staring ahead at the road, frowning.

"What?"

"Jessica, someone close to you has to be in on this with the Master. How well do you know Stacey?"

"Don't you even dare suggest it."

"Why not? She knows you, knows your every move."

Jessica shook her head. "You don't understand. I met Stacey through my church."

"Yourchurch? " he demanded.

"You reallydon't know anything, do you?" she said impatiently.

"Sorry, but I've come across very few vampires through the centuries who go to church."

"How many have you asked?" she demanded.

He didn't reply.

"It's not Stacey," she said heatedly. "Stacey and Gareth have looked out for me for years."

He stared at her, features drawn. "Jessica, don't be such a fool. Years mean nothing to the Master." He was quiet for a moment. "Dear God!" he exploded. "His hatred for me in life was madness. He didn't just want you dead, he wanted to turn you into pure evil simply because I loved you. Now his hatred for you is more powerful than any hunger. I blame myself for where we are now," he added bitterly. "I should have known he was here. I should have watched over Mary myself from the minute she was bitten.I shouldn't have failed in Transylvania."

She was startled by his pained tone, by the fact he seemed far angrier with himself than with her. He had spoken almost as if they could be allies again, almost as if he believed that there could be those who, though touched by the hand of evil, could still resist it.

"I'm to blame, not you," she said. "Although blaming ourselves right now won't help anything."

"Right. So...who?"

"Who?"

"Who is close to you and is helping the Master to carry out his plans? Let's say its not Stacey, nor Gareth, even though they're closest to you. And human. Just how long have you known them?"

She looked at the road. "Gareth has been with me for a decade. Stacey, several years."

"Bobby Munro," he said suddenly.

"Bobby?"

"Why not?"

"Because I know him. He's always in my house, he loves Stacey. He's a good cop. You might as well suggest Big Jim."

She was startled when he remained silent. "No, no, no," she said. "He's one of the best men I've ever met."

Again Bryan was silent.

"Look, there's still the possibility we're looking for a stranger," she reminded him.

He looked at her. "True. As we both know," he added dryly, "almost anything ispossible . But it's not probable."

"You really don't understand. I know the people around me. I've been...I've been around for centuries. I've learned how to judge human nature."

"None of us ever really knows anyone else."

"For an angel of goodness, you're quite a cynic," she informed him icily.

"I'm not an angel," he reminded her.

"Right. A warrior. For the forces of good. You might want to accept that there could be a little goodness in others."

They had reached her house; she pulled into the drive, turned off the engine, and they sat for a minute. He stared straight ahead, then finally he looked at her. "I'll grant you this, the place is well vampire-proofed. So how come you're able to enter?"

"You really don't understand anything at all."

She got out and headed straight for the porch, shoulders squared, indignant. He followed instantly, grabbing her arm, spinning her around. She was about to tell him where to go when she realized he wasn't even looking at her. He was staring at the house. "Even here, you have to be careful." He frowned, jaw locked as he looked for danger.

"There's a vampire here, and I don't mean you," he said.

She set a hand on his arm before he could go racing in. "Mary."

"What?"

"It's all right. We have her under control."

He shook his head. "She has to be destroyed."

"No! Look, I would have killed her myself the night she turned-you know that. Even I was convinced that she was evil. But she's not, Bryan."

"There is-"

"Don't you dare go telling me again that there is no such thing as a good vampire."

She started in again, but he called her back.

"Jessica."

"What?"

"I'm trying. Honest to God. But you'd better warn Mary and all your little friends that one wrong move and theywill be eliminated."

"And may I suggest that if you act against any us without provocation, I can be equally ruthless."

"I don't doubt it," he said.

She gritted her teeth, damning herself for feeding right into his beliefs.

"You do realize you're in even greater danger, now that you've let Mary in."

"Mary will be sound asleep all day."

"He can enter her dreams."

She froze, staring at him. Yes, the Master could enter dreams. He had entered hers, while she had foolishly imagined that it was Bryan who had somehow caused the nightmares of the past to plague her.

"You're in very serious danger here," he said softly.

"Right-from you."

"I don't lie. I said I wouldn't kill you."

"You're just a paragon of virtue," she taunted.

She was surprised when he actually laughed. "I wouldn't go that far. But my word is good."

She continued up the porch steps to the house. Stacey opened the door, and stared first at Jessica, then at Bryan.

"Is everything all right here?" Jessica asked.

Stacey nodded, still looking anxious. "Mary is as secure as...as secure as I know how to make her."

"Which is very secure," Jessica said firmly, a warning in her eyes.

"Right. And I saw to it that she was completely stuffed. I mean, if she feels like she's just eaten an entire turkey dinner, she's less likely to fall prey to his call, right?"

"Actually, she seems to have done a very good job of fighting him already. I haven't seen that happen before," Jessica said.

"But ithas happened before," Stacey said. "You."

Bryan made a skeptical sound in his throat.

"Where's Gareth?"

"Watching over Mary, Jeremy and Nancy. No matter how much Jeremy objects, if Mary makes any trouble, Gareth will take care of her."

"Well, then, I'm going to get some sleep," Jessica said. "Stacey, make sure to wake me up by about two, all right?"

"What's happening now?" Stacey asked worriedly.

"Sean and Maggie are working a few angles," she said, and set a hand on Stacey's arm. "They know what they're doing," she said softly. She spun and stared at Bryan. "I'm going to bed. Good night."

With that, she started up the stairs. When she reached her room, he was behind her. She turned on him heatedly. "What?"

"Do you really trust Stacey and Gareth so completely?" he asked her.

She stared back at him, shaking her head. "Yes, I do. How have you managed to live so long without learning that sometimes you have to believe in other people? We don't exist alone. I don't. Iwon't ."

She walked into the room and started to close the door, but he had followed her.

"I need some rest."

"Yes, and I won't leave you. You're in danger."

She looked up at him. "Maggie is certain that you are the greatest danger I'm facing."

"He's here for you," he said softly.

He walked around the room, looking in the closet, the bathroom and under the bed.

"Bryan, he's hardly likely to be hiding under the bed."

He rose. "Nice bed. No coffin?"

"No one sleeps in a coffin anymore," she said. "Well, all right, some do. But not the...the vampires I know."

He shrugged. "The old trunk under the bed? Scottish soil, I assume?"

Her turn to shrug. "I'm surprised you haven't already ripped my room to shreds to see what you could find."

"I really didn't know at first," he admitted. "My mind was on...other things. I should have known, though. Even after all these years..."

"I had no idea," she told him. "Time...well, time can heal a lot of wounds. Except..."

"Except what?"

I should have known, she thought. I should have known when I felt...something I had never felt before or since.

She fought the ridiculous desire to burst into tears. She had survived this long. But she had never thought she would see him again. She had been sure he was dead, but now...

She shrugged. "Nothing."

He looked at her expectantly for a moment, but when she didn't say anything more, he stepped out onto the balcony and stared up at the sky. After a moment, she joined him.

"He isn't here," he said.

"You're certain?"

He nodded gravely. "He was, though. I thought it was my imagination that I was so intent on my pursuit I was conjuring him up, but it was real. It seems, however, that he can't enter." He looked at her. "Either that, or he hasn't chosen to yet."

"I think the first is correct," she said. "Myfriends , the people who care about me, are very good at keeping me safe."

"Ah, but did they keep you safe from me?" he asked.

Nothing could have kept me safe from you, she thought.

"You're not a vampire," she said dryly. "Anyway, it's daytime. He has to rest now."

"Does he? You don't always rest by day, and you're both ancient."

"Some women might take that the wrong way," she said.

He ignored the thrust. "The point is, you're both strong, with powers few others will ever attain."

"Right. We'reboth strong. He's not the only powerful one."

"I still fear for you," he said.

"Fear for me-or fear me?"

He shook his head but didn't answer.

She started back into the bedroom. He followed her, carefully locking the balcony doors. He took a long moment, staring at the garlic strings and intricate crosses that were strung there for protection.

"Interesting," he murmured.

"Don't you ever pause to think that if there is a supreme being who strives for peace that in the heart of every sentient creature, there is both evil and goodness?"

He took her by the shoulders, looking into her eyes. "I know what I have seen," he said.

"But faith means believing in what wecan't see," she said softly.

"You don't seem to have much faith in me tonight."

"You've admitted that one of your key aims in life is to kill me."

"And I've said I won't do it."

"Now," she said.

"We have to defeat the Master. For good, this time."

His hands were still on her shoulders, his face close. Those eyes...

How had she not recognized those eyes?

Instinct had told her what memory had failed to see, but when she trembled now, was it because of Maggie's warning or from passion?

She had to resist him, dared not take a chance. But then he touched her face.

Still, she told herself, she would have resisted but for a single whispered word.

"Igrainia."

A name. And in that name, she heard a longing and poignancy that had outlasted the ages, the joy of what they had shared, what they had lost.

She couldn't have turned away then even if he had aimed a stake straight at her heart. He cupped her chin in his hands, his fingers moving with an infinite tenderness over her cheeks. She didn't even realize she had moved, but she was suddenly pressed against him. He bent slowly, and his lips moved over hers. It was a full, slow kiss, lips parting, the fire of the ages evoked in the play of their tongues. Passion, simmering, slow but explosive, awoke. She reached up, her fingers winding through his hair, and they kissed with a growing madness. She never knew how clothing found its way to the floor. It seemed the kiss never broke, but it didn't matter, because they were naked in each other's arms. Nothing, nothing at all seemed to matter, except the heat that infused their flesh, melded them together so they could sate the frenzied hunger that seized them both.

When their lips at last parted, she kissed his throat, feeling the pulse there, then his collarbone, the rippling expanse of his chest. His fingers stroked her hair as she moved against him, remembering, discovering, showering him with liquid caresses. She moved ever lower, reveling in the feel of hard muscle and sleek skin, noting a scar here, there....

It was as if time washed away. She felt a Highland wind as surely as if it touched her in truth. She drew her fingers around his hip, over his buttocks, and it was as if the colors of a distant valley lived with her again in springtime. She felt the roar of a storm, the crashing of the waves against the cliff, the hunger of innocence, trust...love....

She stroked and caressed with fingers, lips and tongue. She teased mercilessly, those distant memories rising in her with the shuddering of his flesh, each tensing of his fingers as they brushed her hair and shoulders. She took him in her hands, in her mouth; she felt him tremble, and then she was in his arms, lifted and carried, then lying on the cool sheets, but in her mind and heart she might have lain in an age-old field of mauve and green. Where she had teased lightly at first, she was met now with urgency and raw desire, his hands and mouth moving over her as if everything that had come before was but a prelude for this.

He had always been a magnificent lover.

And so he proved again, mouth upon hers, upon her body, raggedly teasing her breasts, her belly, between her thighs. Then he was atop her, within her, and the world beyond them was a storm, the sky blue and thunderous gray, the sheets a poignantly remembered wool, cast upon the rugged ground, and theirs was the passion of youth, of a love that had grown, flown and entwined them forever....

In life, in death.

Yet this was the now, and what he did to her was raw and carnal and explosive. The sheets beneath her were real, the sun high, and he was flesh and thunder within her. When sensation reached the point of eruption, she felt a climax shake her as if she had died again, this time in a rapture and sheer physical ecstasy that was staggering. She clung to him, amazed at the joy that continued to grip her so sweetly as she seemed to drift on silver clouds, down to earth, down to the bed, the sheets, the room in the house on Bourbon Street.

And to him, beside her, there on the bed. Holding her.

And then...the pain. Oh, God, the pain. Tears that stung her eyes. Tears she could not shed.

She spoke softly. "Perhaps, if you're going to do it, you should do it now."

"What?" he rose above her, puzzled.

"I am avampyr . And you are a warrior."

He stared down at her for a long time. "Sometimes," he said at last, a rueful smile curving his lips, "we have to go on faith, to believe that which we cannot see, hmm?"

He eased back beside her, pulling her against him. She lay still, thinking that if he were to kill her now, it wouldn't matter.

She would happily die in his arms.

She felt his kiss brush her head, felt his fingers stroke through her hair.

"If only..." he murmured.

"If only...?"

"We could stay like this forever."

They couldn't. They both knew it.

She started to speak, but he pressed his fingers to her lips, drawing her closer still. "We have to rest."

She nodded. She didn't dare move.

She had thought him dead and herself alone. She had fended for herself, made herself strong, and she had learned that she could face any danger.

But now he was here. Alive.

Her greatest threat?

But his arms were around her now, and she felt, as she hadn't since they had last lain so, that she was cherished, protected, that...he would die for her?

He already had.

But tonight...

Whatever the future brought, she intended to savor the sensation, the belief, that she was loved, cherished.

She lay secure in his arms, desperately tired. And finally she slept.

No dreams plagued her, only his whisper as he moved against her.

"Igrainia."