Fangs for the Memories (31 page)

“He does
exist,
otherwise he never could have reappeared. Maybe it is your love for Jane. Maybe you were just tired of brooding. God knows
I’m
tired of your brooding. But the Rhys that you’ve been for the past few days was the old Rhys.”

Rhys turned to look at him.

Sebastian stared back for a moment; then he modified, “Except you were happier these past days than you ever were—even alive.”

Jane.

They both knew it was Jane who’d managed that feat.

“You found me in the alley?”

Sebastian nodded. “You’d been attacked.
By a vampire, from the looks of the wounds.”

Yes.
Definitely by a vampire.
“And Jane was there?”

“Yes. She was unconscious, and she had a memory hex cast on her. Which verified you must have been attacked by a vampire.”

“It was a vampire,” Rhys told him, his voice devoid of any emotion. How did one feel about his own brother trying to kill
him.
He still didn’t know.

Sebastian sat forward in his chair. “You remember the attack?”

“Yes.”

“Was it a random attack?
A rogue vampire?”

Rhys
laughed,
the sound humorless, brittle. “No.
Definitely not random.”

“Who, then?”

Rhys left the window, not sure where he was walking, just feeling the need to move. He paced back and forth in front of the fireplace.

He wished there was a fire burning. He felt very cold, very empty.

“Who, Rhys?”

Rhys stopped, staring into his glass. Finally he garnered the strength to say it.
To hear the truth out loud.
“Christian.”

Silence filled the room for a full second, before Sebastian stood. “Christian? Are you sure?”

“Yeah.”
Rhys laughed again, still no amusement in the sound. “I’m pretty sure.”

“Why? How? Christian isn’t any more powerful than you.”

“You’d be surprised what blind rage can do.”

“But why?
Why now?”

Rhys didn’t mind saying this out loud. He’d waited a very long time to be able to say this very thing. “
Lilah
is dead.
Walked out into the sunlight.”

Sebastian’s hazel eyes widened. Then his lips split into a huge and still amazed grin.
“Really?
The bitch is finally gone?”

Rhys nodded, joining him for a split second in the joy. But his slight smile faded. “Christian came to tell me.
Then to kill me.”

“Well, ding dong.” Sebastian was clearly stunned. “I wouldn’t have ever guessed Christian. I’d been asking around at the club if there was any word in the community about a rogue vampire and other attacks. This explains why no one had heard anything.”

Rhys stared at his brother for a moment. Even though Sebastian often had odd ways of showing his concern, he did care. Despite
Rhys’s
annoyance with his heavy-handed meddling and silly comments, he did appreciate that Sebastian had always been there. Was essentially the brother he’d known in
life.

“So what are we going to do?”

Rhys frowned. “We aren’t going to do anything. If Christian comes to me, I’ll deal with it. And I need to get Jane to leave.”

“What? Why?”

“It’s been Christian that has been coming to Jane. And she has to go for her own safety.”

“Wouldn’t she be safer with us?
With us to protect her?”

But who was going to protect Jane from him? Rhys wondered. “No. She will be safer if she just cuts ties with us altogether.”

Sebastian shook his head. “She loves you, Rhys. Are you prepared to break her heart?”

Rhys’s
chest tightened. “A broken heart will heal.”

“Rhys—”

“This is what has to be done. Jane isn’t safe. She needs to leave.”

Sebastian nodded, although Rhys knew he didn’t agree. Then he stood, heading to the door. He paused with his hand on the doorknob and looked back at Rhys.

“You are sending away the best thing that has ever happened to you.”

Rhys didn’t respond, and finally Sebastian just shook his head again, clearly disgusted with him. The door slammed, accenting his irritation.

Rhys stared at the closed door,
then
crossed back to the window. The sky was starting to turn the vibrant indigo color that it often did as sunrise slowly arrived. A couple more hours and he’d have to scurry for his bed.
To hide.
Hide from daylight and life.

Jane couldn’t live like that. She’d been surrounded by death long enough. She needed to live, to love.

His chest tightened again at the thought of some other man holding her, making love to her.

He took a sip of his drink,
then
rested his forehead on the icy windowpane. But he had to let her go.
For good this time.

Christian was a real threat. Rhys didn’t even want to contemplate what Christian could do to Jane.

Rhys didn’t want to contemplate what
he
could do to Jane. What he’d already done.

Jane had to leave, even if Sebastian was right.
Because Sebastian was right.

Rhys would let her go because he loved her.

Jane sat up, blinking around her, trying to get her bearings. She was still in
Rhys’s
bed, although he wasn’t next to her.

She glanced at the digital clock.
Three forty-eight P.M.
She must have slept half the night and nearly all the day away.
Lazybones.

She stretched, but she had to admit all that sleep had made her feel great.
Beyond great.
Her whole body hummed with energy. She felt as if she could jump up and run ten miles. Or at the very least, find Rhys and make love for a good, long time.

She crawled out of bed, realizing she was nude. She searched around on the floor for something to put on and finally gave up and wrapped the towel from last night around herself.

She headed to her room to get dressed. Then she’d find Rhys. He never roused before she did—at least not to get out of bed. And she’d never noticed if he came to bed in the first place, although she
had
slept like the dead. All of
Rhys’s
sleep habits must be rubbing off on her.

Then again, she’d absolutely had to sleep after that last bout of lovemaking. Rhys was incredible. She didn’t need to be experienced in intimacy to know that what Rhys did to her not many lovers could. He was great in bed, but she knew it was the fact that she loved him that made it all the more amazing.

She hummed to herself as she flipped on the light to her bedroom and searched through her suitcase for something nice to wear.

Maybe she should unpack, she decided as she rooted through her clothes once more to find a pair of panties. It was practical. And she wasn’t even going to continue fooling herself that she was leaving.

She started to put what was left of her clean clothes in the bureau. As she worked, she wondered again where Rhys could be.

He hadn’t gotten out of bed before nightfall since she arrived. A sudden sense of unease came over her. What if he’d gone outside? The sun had to be low at this time, but its rays could still damage his allergy sensitive skin.

She paused. No, she had the feeling, although she couldn’t say why, that Rhys was in the apartment. His presence was just—there.

She pushed in the drawer to the bureau and turned to gather the clothes she’d chosen to wear tonight.

In the bathroom, she rushed through her morning ritual, anxious to find Rhys.

After she was dressed and had just added the final touches to her makeup, she stood back and studied herself in the mirror. She didn’t look too bad. The style of her top, which wrapped around her and tied on the side, gave
the
impression that she had fuller cleavage. And the deep green of the velvet brought out her eyes. She couldn’t see her skirt, but she knew the ruffling hemline fluttered when she walked and made her look feminine.

She had
strappy
heels that went with the outfit, but she decided to forgo them. She liked walking barefoot, and she was wearing the outfit only for Rhys, not to go out.

She plucked at her hair, arranging the pieces in a more hip style. Not too bad. The faint steam clouding the mirror made her reflection look softer. Then she touched the necklace that she still wore.

She smiled, lifting it to admire the stone again, but as she did, the chain rubbed against a painful spot on her neck.

“Ouch,” she muttered, dropping the pendant back against her chest. She leaned forward to examine the soreness.

Two marks, angry red wounds, marred the side of her throat. She tilted her head, trying to see them better. Then she wiped her hand over the mist-covered glass. But it didn’t help. Her reflection was still blurred.

She squinted and did her best to see the marks again. They appeared to be similar to the ones she’d noticed the other day on her breast.
Although these weren’t as healed.

She rummaged through her toiletry bag until she found a bandage. She peeled off the backs and positioned it as best she could over the small wounds.

It kind of ruined the sexy effect she was going for, but it looked a bit better than the red marks. Or at least she hoped it did. Why hadn’t the steam on the mirror evaporated?

She shook her head and left the room to find Rhys. He was in the library. She knew it as soon as she reached the living room, and wondered for a second at her certainty.

Shaking her head, she chuckled to herself. Oh, yeah, she was
so
in tune with him that she could just
sense
where he was in the apartment. More likely it was just the most reasonable guess, since it was his favorite room.

She pushed open the library door and blinked. The room was
pitch
dark. She’d never seen it this dark. Even at night, the city lights shining through the two huge windows cast faint light in the room.

But as her eyes adjusted to the darkness, she realized that heavy custom blinds covered the windows. She’d never even noticed them before.

She stepped farther into the room, brushing a hand along the wall, searching for a light switch, but before she could find one, a table lamp flicked on.

Jane jumped, her hand coming up to her chest. “Rhys! You startled me.”

He sat in one of the large, comfy chairs, his clothes rumpled,
his
feet up on the coffee table. From the look of him, he’d been up all night. His eyes
shadowed,
dark.

“Have you been up all night?”

“Day,” he corrected.

She wandered over to the chair across from him and perched on the edge, her hands on her knees. Again another rush of uneasiness came over her.

“Do you not feel well?” She hoped that was what was causing the apathetic look in his eyes.

He didn’t answer for a moment. “Jane.”

Just by the way he said her name—that one, single syllable—she knew. Funny, she should know so much from a tiny, little word.
Her own name.

“You’ve gotten your memory back.” Not a question, just absolute certainty.

He nodded, and neither of them looked pleased.

“Yes, last night.”

“Are—are you okay?”

He shrugged as if it didn’t matter one way or the other. “I’m… I’m as I’ve always been.”

She didn’t know what he meant by that. “Are you hurting over the loss of
Elizabeth
?”

“You know about her?” His question was sharp, his eyes narrowed.

“Yes.”

“Sebastian?”

She nodded,
then
straightened the ruffle of her skirt, unable to look at his hard eyes.

“He’s been busy.”

Her head came up. “He was trying to protect you, and he told me about Elizabeth and Christian to help me understand what was happening with you.”

“And did you understand?”

She tilted her head, her heart aching for this cold, hurting man.
“Of course.
Loss is a terrible thing, and I certainly do know about that. And I know how much you love your family. How responsible you feel for them. And no one could blame you for just wanting to forget.”

He studied her again, those eyes of his like amber.
Hard and ancient, but so beautiful.

“Don’t make me sound noble.”

She stood, moving over to the sofa so she could be closer to him. “Rhys, you can’t continue to beat yourself up over Christian. And you can’t change that
Elizabeth
is gone.”

A muscle in his jaw ticked as if he was clenching his teeth. “Do you know anything about my fight with Christian? Do you know how
Elizabeth
died?”