Duet in Blood (28 page)

I shuddered with revulsion, the spell he had cast over me, now completely broken in Joseph’s presence.

Darius growled in my ear. “Tell him you will go with me, Micah. Tell him that, and I may spare them both.”

“Don’t listen to him,” Joseph, his beautiful face grey with worry, pleaded with me. “He never tells the truth. Going with him will not spare our lives. This will be a struggle to the death between us.”

Darius chuckled. “He’s right,” he whispered, his lips on my ear. “But you will be mine, willingly or not. Eventually, you will forget Joseph ever existed.” His cock was pressing against my butt, reminding me of how much he had hurt me. I struggled to free myself, but he merely laughed quietly in my ear, holding me tighter in his embrace.

“You have spirit,” he purred. “I like that.”

“Let the mortal go,” Marcus said, taking a step nearer. “If there is any honour left in you, you will face me like the leader you think you are. If you defeat me, then you will allow Joseph the chance to avenge me.”

“And when I kill him also…” Darius snickered, the touch of his lips on my skin now making me feeling physically sick. “Micah will be mine forever. Very well.” He pushed me aside, and he was suddenly clothed in a loincloth and breastplate like a Roman gladiator, complete with a wicked looking sword. “Wizard magic, Marcus. I hope you are duly impressed.”

“Wait!” Joseph cried. “Marcus is unarmed!”

“His choice,” Darius yelled, slicing the air with his sword. “This is my territory, my rules, and the mortal my prize.”

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I tried to run to where Joseph stood but found I couldn’t move. Darius must still have had some power over me.

“Joseph,” I mumbled weakly. His eyes fixed on mine, and he held out his arms. I felt as if a weight had been lifted from me, and I almost fell as I stumbled forward to where he waited to clasp me in his embrace. His arms about me gave me some hope that this might not turn out as badly as it looked. But an armed Darius who had combined his vampire powers with black magic must surely outmatch Marcus, despite his vampire speed and strength. I made a silent vow that if Darius, by some horrendous twist of fate, killed both Marcus and Joseph, I would take my own life rather than have that guy touch me again. Even as I thought that through, I still could not imagine Marcus being anything other than the victor…but fate can be so damned cruel at times.

I felt Joseph’s body tense as Darius lunged with lightning speed at Marcus, the point of his sword raking across Marcus’ chest. Blood stained the front of his shirt, but Marcus seemed to not notice he’d been cut. He moved with a panther-like grace as he circled his enemy, dodging the many more thrusts and jabs Darius aimed at his body.

Snarling with impatience, Darius suddenly conjured a dagger into his left hand,

throwing it with deadly accuracy at Marcus. I gasped as Marcus caught the dagger by the handle and hurled it back at Darius. The speed with which he threw it caused the knife to become no more than a blur before my human eyes, but somehow Darius managed to avoid being struck and once more charged in, his sword slashing at Marcus who leaped back, slamming into the wall behind him.

Darius closed in, but Marcus evaded the sword’s vicious stab to his belly, grabbing Darius’ wrist and wrenching the sword from his grip. The two vampires, now evenly matched, wrestled in deadly silence. The muscles on Darius’ back bulged as he engaged in a test of strength against Marcus. For a moment or two, I thought he might just force Marcus to his knees, but with a burst of his supernatural prowess, Marcus snapped both of Darius’

arms down to his sides, spun him round and had him trapped in a neck-breaking headlock.

Darius writhed and squirmed in Marcus’ grip but could not escape. His handsome face twisted with rage, he choked out a string of what sounded like gibberish to me—then he simply vanished, leaving the three of us alone in the room.

“Coward,” Joseph muttered.

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I clung to him, my body sagging with relief that it was over. Despite the fact that we were now safe, I felt like hell. I ached all over, inside and out, and I wanted nothing more than to get the hell away from this place. As far as I was concerned, Paris, the City of Light had suddenly become the City of Nightmares. Marcus picked up my clothes and handed them to me with a smile of encouragement.

“Thank you,” I mumbled, pulling on my jeans. I could feel his and Joseph’s eyes on me as I dressed. I felt like shit.

Joseph kissed my forehead. “I’m so sorry, Micah…”

I sighed and shrugged. “Wasn’t your fault. No one could have guessed that guy would try something like this. But if you don’t mind, I think I’d like to go home to LA. I’m not sure I can handle anymore of this…excitement.”

I sensed rather than saw them exchange glances, then Joseph took my arm and led me from the room I knew I would never forget for as long as I lived.

Joseph

Marcus regarded me with compassion as we sat together in my living room. I had put Micah to bed as soon as we’d returned to my apartment. He was exhausted, mentally and physically, and so it had been simple for me to will him to sleep. He was worried about the consequences of the sex he had engaged in with Darius. He told me that he felt torn inside, but I assured him the blood we had exchanged would soon heal any damage done by that monster.

Nevertheless, my own soothing words to him did nothing to placate the hatred that stirred in my heart.

“I want to kill Darius,” I told Marcus, hearing the loathing in my own voice.

Marcus was silent for a moment or two, then he said, “You must make Micah forget all that has happened in the past few days. When he returns to Los Angeles, it will be easier for him to adapt to his normal life if the horrors of the past are erased from his memory.”

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“But he is unemployed because of what has happened,” I protested. “He told his

employer that he was in Paris. It’s not that easy, Marcus.”

He frowned as he mulled over what I’d said. “You could will him to stay, Joseph. He could not resist your power.”

“I can’t do that, tempting though it is. I would always feel that I had cheated in order to make him stay.”

“I understand.”

“What do Roger and Ron think?”

“Roger thinks Micah will reconsider his decision to leave when he’s had time to think things through. Ron is not so sure. Both of them said they would talk to Micah when he feels better.”

I sighed with despair. “I will never forgive myself for not being more vigilant. For letting him wander through Paris on his own—”

“He’s a grown man with a will of his own. Besides, Ron and he had toured Paris

together only the day before. No one could have foreseen that Darius would be foolhardy enough to attempt something like this.”

“And if he tries again?”

“I am sure he won’t. I’ve informed one of his lackeys of what transpired, and the fallout has been hazardous for Darius. He values his position as leader of the Dark Forces more than a dalliance with a mortal man.”

“I hope you’re right.”

“In the meantime, let Micah rest. Perhaps Roger is correct in his thinking that he will see things in a better light when he awakens.” He rose and embraced me. “Cheer up, my friend,” he said, kissing my cheek. “At least Micah is home safely with you. We must leave the rest to the Fates. But whatever his decision is, we must honour it.”

I nodded, holding him close. “Thank you, Marcus, for all you have done…and for your friendship.”

“You have that always.”

After Marcus left, I slipped silently into the bedroom where Micah lay asleep. In the glow of the nightlight, I could see his sweet face, his forehead slightly creased in a frown of concern. I sighed. Even in his sleep, he had not thrown off the memory of what he had DUET IN BLOOD

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suffered at the hands of Darius. Gently, I smoothed back the hair that had fallen over his brow. My heart lurched in my chest at the thought of losing him now, but earlier, I had seen the look of shock on his face, and I knew it would be so. Truly, I could not blame him. No mortal being should ever have to endure what he had.

I lay down beside him, holding him to bring him comfort as he slept. His hand touched my face, and he moved closer to me, murmuring my name.

Yes, my love, I am here…and always will be, if you wish it
.

He let out a long sigh but did not awaken. As I gazed upon his face, once more

composed with sleep, I thought of what Marcus had said. Yes, I could so very easily will Micah to stay. Just one silent thought implanted in his mind, and he would forget ever wanting to return to Los Angeles. But, as much as I wanted him to stay with me, to live with me forever, how could I do that knowing I had taken away his choice in the matter?

I loved him too much to live through each day wondering what the outcome would

have been had I not taken away his right to make his own decisions. A deep sadness overcame me with the realisation that tomorrow he would be gone from me—perhaps

forever.

I brought his hand to my lips and held it there. For now, I would have to be content to simply lie there and watch over him.

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Micah

Ron and I were pretty quiet on the flight back to LA. I was all talked out, and he, I think, had figured I had made my decision and had to live with it. Leaving Joseph was probably the hardest thing I had ever done in my entire life, but commonsense told me I had done the right thing. I mean, come on…what kind of life would we have together, always being chased by rogue vampires, wizards, demons and God only knows what else that I’d been lucky enough not to encounter. Yet. Werewolves maybe?

Every time I closed my eyes I saw Joseph’s face, and I was plunged into the depths of despair at the thought that I would never see him again. It would have been so easy to go along with what Roger and Ron had suggested—that I stay on in Paris for a time, to let the dust settle so that I could think things through more rationally. But there was nothing rational about anything that had happened to me—to all of us—in the past few days. And try as hard as I might, I just couldn’t forget what Darius had done to me or the shame I felt each time I remembered how easily I had let him make love to me.

Joseph had explained that the jerk had cast some kind of spell over me. That the black magic he’d gleaned from his association with the Wizard Brotherhood had made it

impossible for me to resist him, yet, deep inside me, I really did feel that I should have been able to tell him to fuck off. Instead, I let him fuck me. And to make my feeling of shame even harder to shake off—I had enjoyed it. Yes, I had been hypnotised or under some spell, and that should have made me feel better, I suppose, but it didn’t. And God alone knows what would have happened to me if Marcus and Joseph hadn’t shown up when they did.

Nevertheless, I was afraid that my feelings during that sexual encounter with Darius would haunt me for the rest of my life.

I groaned aloud at the memory of it, and Ron covered my hand with his.

“Sorry,” I muttered.

“Bad thoughts?” he asked, squeezing my hand.

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“The worst. I just can’t stop thinking about that creep, Darius. He’s totally screwed with my mind, Ron. I keep thinking that somehow he’s still able to get inside my head.”

Ron looked at me, concern clouding his face. “Did you tell Joseph this?”

I nodded. “He said Marcus and he would try to block the thought transference, but quite honestly Ron, I believe Darius is just way too powerful. I can only pray that eventually he’ll get bored with it and leave me alone.”

“Micah…” Ron sounded hesitant.

“What is it?”

“Something Jean-Claude said before we left. He said that if Joseph had used his power over you, you would never have wanted to leave. He said that Joseph loved you too much to take away your will to make the right decision.”

“Oh, Ron…” I choked back a sob. “I’m just never going to get over him.”

“Maybe you won’t have to,” he said, rubbing the back of my hand. “Just give it a little time.”

We fell silent again, and I was left to agonise again over my decision to leave Joseph. A part of me wanted to jump on the next plane back to Paris as soon as we landed in Los Angeles, yet another part—the scaredy-cat part of me—knew I wouldn’t. I’d go home to my apartment, let Rhonda know I was back, go look for a job and try to put my life back together…without Joseph.

Was I nuts? This wasn’t like before when Robert left me. I’d been upset, and mad and lonely—but this. This feeling of dark despair settled over me like a black cloud each time I thought of not seeing Joseph again, not feeling his lips on mine, or his hands on my bare skin, or his soft sweet voice as he whispered words of love in my ear. How could I live without that—without him?

That first night back in my apartment almost broke my initial resolve not to call Joseph for a few days. Ron had wanted me to let Joseph know we were back safe, but I reminded him that Joseph would know that without my calling.

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“Well, why don’t you come spend the night at my place?” he’d asked. “Jean-Claude won’t be back ‘til tomorrow, and I don’t like the idea of you being on your own tonight.”

“That’s sweet Ron, but I’ll be fine. The sooner I get used to being on my own again, the better.” I didn’t believe a word of what I’d just said, and from the look on his face, Ron didn’t either, but he hugged me, and said, “Well, you know where I am if you need me.”

My apartment felt bleak and cold, but I knew that was just because of the mood I was in. Rhonda wasn’t home when I knocked on his door, so I left a note saying I was back, and I’d love to see him when he had time. I called my mother to tell her I was back and I would come see her at the weekend. She asked if I’d had a nice time in Paris and I replied, “A wonderful time, Mom. I’ll tell you all about it when I see you.” Well, a mighty censored version so she wouldn’t faint dead away listening to what her darling son had been up to in La Belle France. Then I realised I hadn’t even brought her a souvenir—talk about your self-absorbed, self-pitying drama queen.