Darkness In The Flames (69 page)

He leaned back in his chair, clearly fighting the urge to plead for her. “I do not hide the nature of my affections for Thérèse. I cannot fight it, nor bury it. I will love her to the day my soul goes to whatever place is designated for such as us. I can only hope hers is there waiting. Eternity is too short for what I feel. I know what she is and some of what she has done.”

His shoulders drooped and he looked exhausted. “But in spite of all that—in spite of what I’ve seen with my own eyes—I cannot help but love her. And now, after that spate of terrible agony she shared with me, perhaps by mistake or a momentary weakness, I have to know the answer to an all-important question. I have to understand why she is the way she is. Then—and only then—will I know if I am strong enough to join you in destroying her.”

Nick nodded once. “Fair enough, Rowan.”

Verity was next to him, her expression a mixture of compassion and confusion. “I feel for you, dear Rowan. Loving her cannot be easy. We each bring our own emotions to this battle and yours—well, they are not simple or lightweight, are they?”

Rowan bent a quick glance of gratitude at her. “No, they’re not. I’m torn between the knowledge that what you are all doing is the only right path to take. And yet my heart is screaming at me to protect the one I love.”

Marcus rested a hand lightly on his friend’s shoulder. “We all understand. And rest assured that whatever course we decide on, we shall do our best to make sure it’s the right one, Rowan.”

Rowan closed his eyes and nodded. “I know.”

Sidney shifted his cane for a moment or two, idly tracing the pattern of the carpet with the tip as his thoughts raced along diverse paths. He scarcely noticed the companionable silence that had fallen in the room, since his mind was grappling with a notion. Ridiculous though it might seem, Thérèse could have been speaking the plain and simple truth to Marcus.

Rowan might indeed
know
. He just didn’t realize it.

“I have a suggestion. It’s rather outrageous, but I’ll make it anyway.” Sidney looked up at the faces now turned toward him. “Thérèse has stated that Rowan is the only one to be aware of her agony. I ask myself how this can be so, since she
told
him nothing.”

As one, all nodded in agreement.

“So, following one assumption logically to its conclusion, I think that perhaps Thérèse
did
share something with Rowan—
only not in words
. Not in ways his conscious mind can understand.”

Rowan frowned. “Explain please?”

Sidney focused his attention on Rowan. “You fed from her, lad. You drank her pain. It filled you—damn near drowned you according to what you’ve told us. So…putting all the pieces together, I can only come to one conclusion.”

Silence fell as the others listened, thought and began to see what Sidney implied.

“The knowledge passed to you through her blood, Rowan.
That
’
s
where you hold this knowledge.
That
’
s
where the truth of Thérèse lies. In your
blood
.”

*~*~*~*

It had taken over an hour for the discussion to wane—long enough for all to arrive at a similar conclusion as Sir Sidney.

Rowan had been one of the first. He alone knew the depth of the turmoil and excruciating torture within his love’s soul. He alone had felt the shattering agonies, sensed some of her deep and savage grief.

And even now he knew there was more she’d not released.

If there
was
something within him that now possessed that knowledge, then Sidney was right. It had to be in his veins, drifting slowly through his heart, binding him even more tightly to the only woman he could ever love.

However, Sidney’s consequent suggestion bore risks of its own.

“We need to have them feed from you, Rowan. ‘Tis the only way for all of us to glimpse Thérèse in a different way. To touch that inner agony you speak of.” Sidney had put forth the idea in a matter-of-fact manner.

Marcus had frowned. “I’m not sure that four people feeding from one is a good idea, Sidney. I believe you may be right, but the risks to Rowan…”

“I can stand it.” Rowan had been adamant. “I would explore this idea, Marcus. If it helps…how can I refuse?”

Marcus had sighed. Rowan knew he, of all people, would understand, even though he would not share in the experience.

So eventually they’d adjourned to Sidney’s laboratory and Rowan now found himself on a comfortable chaise, naked to the waist and strangely apprehensive as Nick and Adrian stripped off their shirts. Katherine had taken Verity out of the room so that they might leave their fashionable clothing elsewhere.

Neither husband had wanted his wife to be naked in front of others. It was decided that both women would don a simple chemise. The act of feeding would be accomplished as simply as possible, yet could not be successfully achieved without some sexual overtones.

It was simply inescapable.

Rowan knew that both Marcus and Sidney would probably not relish the event to come, but all concerned had adamantly requested their presence.

“You
must
be here, Father.” Adrian’s voice was firm as he stood next to the older man. “There’s no way we can achieve this without having someone unaffected in the room. Marcus must stay also. There’s safety in numbers and we have no way of predicting what will occur.”

Marcus agreed. “I would feel a lot better with you present, Sidney. We don’t know how this will affect Rowan. Your experience will be a cushion—a safety measure we cannot afford to be without.”

Thus Marcus and Sidney had seated themselves in the shadows, quietly observing, ready to intervene should they judge the situation out of control.

Marcus had leaned in to Rowan. “I will watch over you, my friend. Have no fear.”

Rowan had smiled back. “I knew there was a reason I liked you. It wasn’t
just
your body.”

Marcus had turned his laugh into a polite cough. “Yes, well…” He’d simply grinned, brushing a hand casually over Rowan’s cheek. “Good luck.”

Rowan held those words close as he lay back against the chaise, waiting for what would come next.

The door opening and closing heralded the return of Katherine and Verity, who crossed the room and joined their husbands.

Adrian spoke first. “Rowan, we shall each feed from you—simultaneously. We will try not to drain you, or take more than we must. Do you understand?”

Rowan nodded. “I do. Let’s get this over with, shall we?”

“I am here, lad.” Sidney’s voice was calming, soft though it was. “Just relax.”

Rowan snorted. “Easy for you to say. You’re not about to get chewed on by four very sharp sets of teeth.”

Sidney chuckled, but then lapsed into silence.

“You are a fine and good man, Rowan.” Katherine stroked soft hands over his chest. “Trust us?”

“I do, Katherine. I would not be here if I did not.”

It was the truth. Rowan did trust these fellow travelers. He’d come to think of them all as wanderers down a dark and forbidden path. Their feet had been placed on it by chance, but it had been Fate that had brought them all together.

Perhaps for this very moment.

“We are nearly ready.” Nick reached for Verity’s hand.

Rowan knew the couples would kiss, would begin the process of awakening their fangs. Marcus had dimmed the few lamps in the room—an attempt to maintain some semblance of privacy and grant them darkness to cover their mutual arousals.

With eyes closed, Rowan listened, letting his senses tell him what was happening.

Soft murmurs and the rustling of silk betrayed the rising passions. A tiny sound from Katherine—Adrian was holding her. Nick and Verity were on his other side, touching each other, loving each other with gentle strokes and the occasional sigh.

Rowan surrendered to the moment, the noise of love around him, the rush of adrenaline and the scent of the women as their passions awoke.

A touch on his arm, a silk-covered breast perhaps or a masculine muscle—he wasn’t sure. He simply let it happen and focused on thoughts of his own love—Thérèse.

What would it have been like if he’d met her in the normal course of life? Could he have loved her the way he did? Would it have been an instant attraction or would he have wooed her until she surrendered her body and her heart to his keeping?

Was it her incredible sexuality that had snared him or something deeper? A glimpse at the real woman in her soul?

Her beauty—of course. That was undeniable. She only had to appear for him to be constantly reminded of her physical perfection.

But it went so much deeper. When his cock was buried inside her—those were the moments he felt that he was close, close to learning where their attraction really lay. He wanted a lifetime with her, a chance to fuck her, touch her,
watch
her every single minute of every single day. And even then he might not be able to fully understand exactly
why
he loved her.

Why he should experience this overwhelming passion that flew in the face of everything he believed—everything that he was.

He shrugged to himself. Love. It was truly inexplicable.

It was almost a shock to feel the first sharp pressure of fangs on the inside of his wrist.

Oh God help me
.
Let this work
.

Please
.

Rowan felt himself drift as more teeth slid through his skin into his veins. It was a drawing of his soul, a slow flowing of his essence from him. He felt his cock stir with arousal and knew an instant of lust, a desire that would not be sated this night.

Then he knew no more.

He could not guess that at that very instant curtains were being drawn aside, doors to the past were opened and the veils of time fell to reveal—the truth.

Rowan could not know that his blood became a portal through which four people stepped. An opening into a time long gone, when atrocities were committed, often in the name of the Church.

When men deigned to judge a woman on the merest whim—a muttered whisper in the right ear—an animal that had recovered when all expected it to die. Such were the bases for the most terrible and heinous sins, all blanketed by the veneer of purity.

And all aimed at women who were accused of being—
witches
.

Chapter Nine

“
Mama
—
don
’
t let them take me
.
I have done nothing wrong
,
I swear
—”

The words were wrenched from Thérèse’s throat even as she was ripped from her mother’s embrace.

The villagers were gathering now, muttering amongst themselves, staring at the two men who had ridden unannounced into the quiet little square that served as a marketplace, then loudly demanded the presence of the Osmocescu family.

They were darkly handsome men, armed with gleaming swords and clad in somber black, lightened only by the red braid that demonstrated their service to their Bishop and the Holy Church.

Two words rustled around the edges of the growing crowd. Two words that struck fear into their hearts.

Witch hunters
.

Her mother had innocently obeyed the summons, hoping it was news of her husband. He’d left some time before to sell their wares in the larger city several miles away and had not returned. She was worried.

Thérèse’s sister Katya clung to her mother’s arm, eyes wide and frightened as the two men dismounted and moved to Thérèse, seizing her roughly and dragging her apart.

“Woman, we are here on a mission from God and the Holy Father. You are to be questioned.”

Her mother gasped and clutched her throat in fear, reaching helplessly for her eldest daughter. “You cannot. She is innocent.”

All present knew too well what this moment meant. Their priest had been cautioning them regularly against consorting with devils, no matter how luring the temptation might be.

Thérèse had listened with only half an ear. Surely such things were the mutterings of madmen. Who would willingly consort with the Devil? She couldn’t imagine anything like it, nor could she imagine gathering naked under the moonlight to forswear her allegiance to God.

But now—now all things were changing and she was flung roughly to the ground while the men stood over her contemptuously. “You will not argue, woman. Complaints and accusations have been made. You will answer to them—and to our satisfaction—or it will be the worse for you.”

“
Accusations
?” Her mother’s voice was shrill. “Nonsense. Utter nonsense. No one here would dream of such a thing…”

The words faded as Thérèse lifted herself from the dirt to see Simon Montreaux staring soberly at her.

“
Simon
? Simon—
please
. Tell these men they have made a mistake. By God above, I swear I am innocent.” Thérèse extended a hand piteously toward him, toward this man she loved. She’d given him everything—her body, her heart and all her hopes of their future.

His eyes slid away from her gaze and he folded his arms silently.

“Well, Montreaux? Is this the one?” One of the hunters asked the question harshly, his dark eyes cold and expressionless. “Is this the woman you say is a witch?”

The silence in the square was broken only by the sobbing of Thérèse’s breath as it forced its way past lungs suddenly constricted with horror.

“No, Simon—
no
.” She barely whispered the words.

He nodded once. “’Tis she. This woman bewitched me with her body and her lustful ways. She thought to blind me and ensnare me in her toils. The Devil granted her surpassing beauty which she flaunted on every occasion.”

He lifted his chin, still not looking at Thérèse. “She thought to entrap me into marriage, danced naked before me and encouraged me to act wantonly with her. Many is the night she has lured me into the forest, only to seduce my body and have her wicked fill of my seed.”