Darkness Comes (33 page)

“And when were you planning on turning me?” she asked, her voice taut and low.

“In a few years, maybe?” he took a deep breath. “I would rather have you as a vampire than not have you at all.”

That was incredibly romantic in a fucked up sort of way. “And if I refused, which you would have to expect of me, what then?”

“I would have begrudgingly let you go.” His voice was laced with even more anguish. “And after our child was old enough, I would follow you.”

She inhaled sharply at those words, tears filling her eyes at the thought of Feryn no longer being a part of the world, even if she were not here to witness it. Squeezing her eyes shut, feeling the tears race down her cheeks, “Don’t say that.”

He was behind her then, his arms wrapped around her body, surrounding her with his warmth, his essence. His breath flowed across the skin of her ear, her temple, as he rasped, “I have found that Aradians don’t love in half measures, Malorie; it is all or, well, all. If I lose you, I will be lost as well.”

He was pulling her robe up, exposing her legs to the cooler air, his hotter thighs and even hotter penis. Her body was hot and slick, ready for him and she wanted this. Arching her back, she felt him nudge the entrance of her sex and nearly exploding when he entered her in a single hard thrust.

“I love you, Malorie.”

Untying her robe, he slid his hands inside, cupping her breasts, thrumming her nipples, and driving her mad with pleasure. Her skin was on fire and she was burning up from the inside out as he moved in her. He kissed beneath her jaw, over her throat, sending tingles all along her neck and down her back. With a growl, he sank his teeth into her neck, devouring her will and her mind.

Her back arched and she screamed at the same time that his body erupted, filling her completely. He carefully pulled his fangs from her neck, licking the wound and resting his cheek against her head, stroking her arms as she continued to shake. “Malorie.”

“You can’t keep distracting me,” she sighed, resting her cheek against the cool wall, aftershocks of pleasure bouncing around her body. Her brain was having a little difficulty catching up. If she ever wanted to think again, she was going to have to spend some time on her own; Feryn was as dangerous as any mind-altering drug. If she wasn’t careful, she would throw all of her cares and worries and concerns away and only exist for Feryn.

And that would be beyond stupid. If she gave up her identity, everything that made her Malorie, there would be nothing left of her to love; by neither Feryn nor herself. Maybe it would be different in a hundred years when the sex wasn’t so new and powerful. If she lived that long.

“You can’t talk about leaving me; I cannot bear it.” He placed a tender kiss at the spot he had bitten. His big body shuddered around her and she could feel his despair when he thought about losing her. It was scary and thrilling to love and be loved by him. Resting his chin on her shoulder, he whispered, “Wear my mark?”

She smiled slightly at that; at least he was asking her this time. She remembered the mark that he had put on her throat and while it was beautiful, it was so prominent. If she found her father… no, when she found him, she didn’t think he would appreciate seeing the Aradian brand on her skin. Maybe once everything was sorted out it wouldn’t be so bad belonging to someone, to have someone belong to her. Still flourishing in the after effects of her orgasm, she murmured, “Just not on my neck.”

He gave her no time to think, to reconsider. With a possessive growl, his hand went to her thigh and she felt the sizzling heat of him marking her. It was so… primal and erotic. Her eyes slid closed as the fire licked over her skin, once again consuming her thoughts, her civilized veneer, as he claimed her completely.

Heat flowed over her skin, around her leg, upwards onto her belly, over her lower back; inside her flesh; he was claiming all of her. The flames licked over her breasts, her nipples, along her throat; between her thighs, into her womb to the child that grew there. Squeezing her eyes shut, she feared getting lost in him; losing herself just when she was finally found. “Stop.”

“You’re mine, Malorie.” He was wrapped around her, his chest heaving with harsh breaths. Heat burned through all of her doubts, her fears, and for one perfect moment, she had clarity of vision; she was where she was meant to be. “You’re mine and I am yours.

“Everything that I have is yours.” His words curled around her soul, binding her to him. “I will give you the world.”

“I never wanted the world.” Closing her eyes against the encroaching doubts, the tears that threatened to fall, she whispered, “I only ever wanted you.”

“Malorie.” Her name was a benediction and she was about to shatter.

“When were you going to tell me my father escaped?” she asked softly, no longer able to ignore the memories clamoring in her head. He stepped away from her, taking his heat with him, and she turned to face him, retying the robe that had been opened. Taking a breath, she tilted her chin up and faced him, seeing his bewildered expression. “Well?”

“What are you talking about?” he asked, reaching behind him and grabbing a blanket from the bed to wrap around his waist. His ignorance snapped something within her and tears pooled in her eyes. He stepped forward, concern in his eyes, but she froze him with a glare. “Malorie?”

“My father,” she cried, her voice becoming shrill and she was helpless to stop it. “My father! The man who was with me and Toby.”

His eyes widened and focused sharply on her, every muscle tense. “That’s impossible; he’s not old enough.”

She smiled without humor, “He’s older than he looks.”

He watched her, his gaze moving over her face and he must have seen something because he stilled, “How old is he, Malorie?”

Pressing her lips together, she desperately tried to remain quiet but the words stumbled out, “He was born just before Varick.”

His mouth fell open. She had surprised him and she knew he was very rarely surprised. She stepped around him and walked over to the window; it was another beautiful day in paradise; didn’t the people who live here ever want it to rage and storm? To tear their perfect worlds apart? With a self-mocking laugh, she murmured, “Perhaps all of your angst about creating a vampire was in vain.”

“How old are you?” His voice was distant, cold. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw that he still stood facing the wall, his hands clenched at his sides. It should have made her feel better, to have her secrets, but it didn’t; she hurt right alongside him. If he had kept his sensuality at bay, had she been able to resist him, they would have been able to discuss this like two rational humans.

But he wasn’t human.

And neither was she. Not really. Humans didn’t live for hundreds of years; they didn’t repel vampires and they couldn’t replenish blood fast enough to cancel an emergency transfusion. They couldn’t take all of their confusions and turmoil and make plants grow by thrusting their hands into the earth. Oh, God.

Gus had known; he had kept her away from doctors and hospitals all of her life. He had kept her off the grid, to protect her but also to protect himself. Hell, he had even kept his age a secret from her; once again she wondered if he ever would have told her had she not gotten bit. There was so much he had kept hidden from her, so much more that he hadn’t known, and now he was gone and she didn’t know if she would ever see him again. He would be found only when he wanted to be found….

“Malorie,” his voice was sterner, harder. He had turned around, she could tell by the sound of his voice. “How old are you?”

“Twenty-five.” Her voice was wooden because her thoughts were rampaging and breaking everything within her apart. How could she even have the ability to speak when everything inside of her was being destroyed?

Knowing that he was considering the possibilities this information brought, she huffed a lone, frustrated sound, “And no, I do not know if I share my father’s long life. I don’t know how he and my grandfather have lived for so long; hell, I don’t even know if my grandfather is still alive. He abandoned my father long before I was born.”

Just as her father had abandoned her and Toby, to the care and keeping of the Aradians.

She was being irrational; perhaps her father was working on a plan to rescue her and Toby. Perhaps he was out there right now gathering the necessary troops who would be willing to storm an Aradian compound and find her and her son.

“When did he escape?” Her heart thudded in her chest, not wanting to hear the answer.

“Just before you left for the human village.”

“Just before you sent me away,” she clarified, her fingers twisting the ties of her robe as she considered his answer. Gus had been free for a few weeks and he hadn’t tried to contact her. Perhaps he had found a way to escape and took it without once giving consideration to the daughter and grandson he was leaving behind. Perhaps he didn’t know where to start looking, since they were on an island out of synch with the rest of the world. It would be like searching for a specific drop of blood in a slaughterhouse.

Swallowing hard, trying desperately to keep her tone even, “That was why you sent me away; you feared he would come looking for me and take me away from you.”

“No,” he denied quickly; too quickly. She tried to concentrate on his memories but her own thoughts were in turmoil; she couldn’t tell if he was lying to her or if he was telling the truth.

“Another unjustified fear,” she laughed, her heart dying within her chest. She turned around and held her hands out to the side, “As you can see, I’m still here. So is Toby.”

“Malorie,” he pleaded but she was lost in her pain.

“How were you going to find Toby when he was old enough to father children?”

He simply stared at her, concern and anger burning in his eyes; his jaw was clenched and when he answered, it was through tight lips, “We put a sub-cutaneous chip in him; it….”

“You lo-jacked my child?” In anguish, tears filled her eyes as the implications of his words slammed into her. Blinking back the tears and trying to ignore them as they fell, she shook her head, “You let me go; Feryn, you let me go.”

“Yes.” He held himself stiffly and that single word was a hammer to her glass heart.

A tear slid down her frozen cheek as she lifted her eyes and looked at him, “But you were never going to let Toby go, were you? Or my father.”

“Malorie,” he rasped, holding out his hands towards her. “It killed me to let you go.”

“But in the end that’s what you did.” Something wonderful and new withered away inside of her and she rubbed her palm against her hollow chest. She hadn’t known a person could live after their heart had been shattered into a million pieces. “You shouldn’t have bound me to… Oh, God; you only did that because of the baby. Oh, God.”

She was going to be sick. No; she was going to die.

His arms were around her and he was wrapping her in his warmth but it didn’t touch her soul; she was too broken inside. His voice was rough, his words urgent, as he breathed, “You were right, Malorie; I was a coward.”

His words didn’t move her; she was frozen all the way through. Mechanically, she asked, “What are your plans for my son?”

“Malorie….”

“Your plans?”

His voice was resigned, almost apologetic, when he answered, “When he turns sixteen we will mate him with humans loyal to the Aradians; we hope that the majority of his offspring will be Breeders, but all of his children will be raised in luxury befitting their importance to Aradians.”

She was numb. “Sixteen is too young.”

“He’ll be entering his prime and we hope he will produce more than just males.”

She didn’t want to listen to this. “It’s too young.”

“It’s the future of my people,” he said softly. His chin rested on her shoulder and he tightened his hold on her. As if he could keep her from disappearing. Didn’t he know that she had disappeared a long time ago? He was the other half of her soul; in time he would have found her. Any choice she could have made was made at the mall on Christmas Eve; there was never any other path for her. And now it was littered with shards of glass and every step she took was slicing her to ribbons. She needed a new path….

“Take your mark off me and let me go.” Her breath hitched in her throat; she had no anchor any more.

“I cannot,” he growled, his grip tightening even more. “I will not.”

“Please,” she begged, not even sure what she was asking for. She didn’t want him to let her go but she didn’t want to keep feeling this pain.

“Malorie, you must understand.” She could feel his throat move as he swallowed, the desperation in his words. “It’s the survival of my entire race….” He babbled some more but she no longer understood his words. Almost desperately, he begged, “Talk to me, Malorie, I can’t read your mind; you have to tell me what you’re thinking.”

“I think you will have difficulty finding Gus,” she said, no longer connected to anything, her thoughts no longer linear. “He has most likely deactivated his tracking device otherwise you would have found him before now. He knows how to disappear.”

“Malorie.”

She wriggled out of his arms and drifted over to the bathroom, pausing outside of the door with her hand on the knob, “I think you should go.”