Hunger Aroused (19 page)

Sage's jaw tightened. “Impossible,” he ground out.

“You think so? Your proof stands before you.” There was a touch of smugness in Corin's voice. “Apprehend Sijourn Vartan. Ask him why Jas's blood is studied with such intense scrutiny in his labs.” He leaned forward, his chin brushing her head as he spoke. “She's without a sire. Ask him.”

Watching Sijourn walk into the conference room almost five hours later, Corin stifled the urge to flex his fingers. He could almost feel the cool hilt of his blades, an extension of himself. They didn't have to be in his hands for the muscles there to remember their heft, the way they sliced through flesh, and jarred when hitting bone. From the very second he realized they'd been apprehended by the Council, making certain Sijourn knew that same rush of power—from the business end of the steel—became a vow. A final promise to Jas.

He rose to stand behind her now. Another promise.

“You are more trouble than you're worth,” Sijourn said as he took a seat across from Jasmine.

“You should have left us alone,” she fired back.

Good girl. Corin bit back a smile, disgust at being in the same room as the wealthy vampire making it easy to scowl. “Sijourn Vartain…” Corin spoke in a low voice. As he expected, Sijourn leaned forward to listen. “The sentence for siring a vampire without prior Council approval—”

“Do you know who I am?” he interrupted.

“—is death. Have you anything to say in your defense before sentence is passed?”

Long, manicured fingers drummed the wood. “This is ludicrous. I haven't sired any vampires.”

“According to our executioner, not directly. That is part of the problem we face.” Councilman Sage spoke from the other end of the table.

Sijourn's head snapped in his direction. “Giancarlo, is this some sort of joke?”

“It's no joke, old friend. They accuse you of being her sire. Of course, her testimony alone damns you since you have no previous relationship, yet we find her name in your labs. What say you about her blood, among other more heinous collections of a personal matter, in your possession?” He paused, waiting for some kind of refute from Sijourn. When none came, he pressed his lips together. “If you have a meaningful explanation, speak now. The Council has already decided otherwise.”

“D-decided?” Sijourn coughed out the word. “You have no proof against me. See? This is why the Council does not work. It is too much power in the hands of men and women chosen for no more reason than their years of life.”

Sage's eyes softened. “Explain the laboratory. The scientists. The notes about Ms. George.” He pushed away from the table, stood. His gaze shifted to Jasmine and Corin. “These two tell us of a man who longs for the old days. Who seeks the end of the Council. Even if we didn't have the physical proof, your views of the Council are well known.”

A slight tremor in Jas's muscles made Corin glance down. This unrehearsed exchange, setting Sijourn up for the fall, might not sit well with her. He squeezed the top of her shoulder, sending a bit of silent support.
Please, baby.
If he could only give her one thing before they journeyed to the afterlife, let it be to have the heart ripped from his chest of the man who'd hurt her.

His former life, his present life. Blood and death. They were a part of him and forever would be. For a few hours he thought he'd be able to leave them behind. Jas stoked a yearning for loving and living. Sijourn and the fucking Council put a sledgehammer to those dreams until they crumbled around him. He'd take down as much of both as possible before his heart beat its last.

“You already know there's no blood-tie between us, so how do you expect me to prove my innocence?” Sijourn rose to his feet. “My reputation is beyond reproach. I am one of the nation's oldest members. This boils down to nothing more than my word against a woman barely out of her transition.”

“It's not against her word,” Corin responded. “It's against mine.”

Sage rose, as well. A deep sigh. “Corinius was asked to sit on the Council before the position was offered to me. You must know how respected he is.”

“I don't keep up with this—this group.”

His pride, his insistence that he was better than the Council, supported his downfall. Had Sijourn immersed himself in the new ways of the nation, rather than living in the past, cornering him like this wouldn't have been so easy.

“Then there is nothing else to say.”

“No—no!” Sijourn's eyes went wild, his gaze darting from person to person.

Corin's voice hardened. “In deference to who you were, I offer you this—choose how you wish to depart this world.”

“Corin…” Jasmine gripped his hand. Her fingers were like ice, her face pale.

He leaned down, brushed a kiss on her head. “This is our way,” he said. The way of a flawed system, but still, their way.

She stared at the metal cart, a white elephant in the room. Corin's blades, pointed ash stakes, a bowl of sea salt, and hawthorn branches had been placed in neat individual piles on top. When he'd first watched them wheel it into the conference room, his throat tightened. Eventually the tools would be used on both him and Jasmine.

“This is absurd!” Sijourn shouted.

“Choose!”

Sijourn backed up to a wall, looking toward the ceiling. His chest heaved. In a matter of seconds he aged, becoming the old man he would have been without the aid of an unnatural life. By the time he lowered gaze to meet Corin's, his eyes were red-rimmed. “You'll both burn for this.”

“Fine, if you won't choose, I'll pick one for you.” He squeezed Jas's hand one last time before taking a few steps to the cart. The moment he left the cocoon of her presence, inner turmoil, disquietude engulfed him. He needed her understanding, if not her approval for what he was about to do. He would, however, accept it belatedly if that's what it came down to.

Her soft voice caressed him. “Corin.”

His heart thudded. They could never appear divided in front of others. If the Council questioned their pairing, what fragile hold they'd secured would be severed without a second thought. “Jas?”

“Not everyone is meant to live. Not everyone should.” She spoke slowly, repeating the same advice he'd offered her a few days ago. He recognized it for the approval he desperately sought. “But a quick death for one of your most esteemed, yes?”

“Yes,
mellita.
”

His hand tightened around one of the ash stakes. A quick death for Sijourn. Far better than he deserved.

***

“Sunrise comes quickly.” Jasmine noticed that about being a vampire. As the sun rose, she felt its presence even without seeing it firsthand.

He hugged her against his chest. “I won't do this.”

“Corin, you have to. I'm no one—”

“Jasmine, don't.” His voice was hoarse.

“My death by sunrise guarantees
your
life. You haven't gone against the Council. Not really. Don't do it now…not for me.” That Sage person told Corin if he'd complete the kill order prior to the fourth day, in a few hours, Corin would yet have completed his task as ordered.

“I would sooner slit my own throat. Don't you understand yet?”

“I won't let you sacrifice yourself for me. Even though we're paired, even with my death, you'll live.” Thanks to Sage, she knew this now, as well. Corin's age as a vampire secured his survival. Had the situation been reversed, she would succumb as soon as he died.

“I have no life without you. Jas, all of these years alone…I've lived a lifetime in just the past three days. I couldn't imagine even a single day more without you.”

Her eyes stung, unshed tears yearning to fall. “Find me in the afterlife. I'll be waiting.”

“It won't come to that, because I'll get us out of this. I'll find a way.”

She didn't respond. There wasn't a way. If speaking the false truth out loud kept what little hope they had alive, then she wouldn't argue. She knew better though.

Minutes ticked by, a hanging office clock maddening in its noisy declaration. Jasmine resisted every urge to look at it. They sat on the floor, her body wedged between his outstretched thighs. His arms wrapped around her, squeezed every so often, as if he needed a reminder that she still remained in his hold. She focused on him, how much she'd come to love him. Need him.

In the end, she wasn't afraid to die. She feared for what he might become without her around. He'd been so sure about his role for the Council, but now what he'd valued had proven without worth. Could he continue to extinguish lives, even if some were innocent of any wrongdoing? She'd done no more than be in the wrong place at the wrong time. Surely during his lifetime he'd encounter another person like her. What then?

At least for now they were alone to say their goodbyes. The other vampires left over an hour ago to see to the remains of Sijourn. When they returned, Corin was expected to have done the right thing.

He'd told her quietly that the Council still watched through a small window that looked like a mirror on one of the walls. So unassuming in its position, she hadn't given it a second thought. Now she forcefully pushed aside her knowledge of it to focus on him. They had so little time left.

“Kiss me, Corin.”

“This isn't the end.”

It was, whether he acknowledged it or not. “Kiss me. Please.” She tilted her head, needing his touch. His lips against hers. They were cool when they brushed by in a fleeting caress. One without passion. He held himself back as if afraid to expose himself now.

“That wasn't a kiss,” she said after he lifted his head. Lighthearted words from a heavy heart.

“I won't kiss you goodbye. That's what you're after, isn't it?”

“No, sugar.” She stroked his face. “I just want a kiss.”

His large hands cupped her face, his eyes dark and unreadable as he studied her. She loved looking at him, a knot in her stomach forming at the remembrance they wouldn't have more time together as she'd once believed. How cruel of this universe to bring them together for such a short time period and then wrench them apart. But as he'd said, three days had turned into a lifetime.

This time when Corin brought his mouth to hers, Jasmine closed her eyes. Their lips met in the gentlest embrace, in the joining of flesh that knew its soul mate, knew the other part of itself. She breathed in his sweet air, teased her tongue into his mouth to touch his, to taste the subtle lingering apples and cinnamon he managed to maintain. Rough hands, gentle in their embrace, threaded into her hair, tilted her head back further to accept more of him. A needful sigh escaped as Jasmine accepted the deepening of that kiss. She turned, twisting in his lap until she faced him, keeping their mouths connected, needing more of his drugging kisses. On her knees, she captured his face between her hands, touching, remembering, feeling the hard lines of his face, his neck.

Her hands traveled to the broad expanse of his chest, brushed over the pebbled peaks of his nipples. She slipped them into a gap of his shirt, memorizing the musculature of his abdomen. Corin responded to her ardent desires, using calloused fingertips to seek the swell of her breasts beneath her own cotton shirt. His hands trembled as if he wrestled with himself. Perhaps he didn't want to push their growing hunger, but for whatever the reason he gave in anyway.

“Yes,” she moaned, his fingers grazing her nipples. Pulling, twisting them beneath the shirt, away from the prying eyes of the Council. She remembered them now. Fleetingly let her mind drift. Knew they watched the lovers in their final moments together. The two-way glass of the conference room offered them no privacy.

Panting, Corin wrenched his mouth away. His lips were moist, thoroughly kissed. He rested his forehead against hers, his hands settling on the less decadent skin of her hips. “We need more time,” he whispered. “I need more time with you.”

Tears stung her eyes. She refused to see them fall. She refused to let him see her sadness. Turning, she sat back down between his thighs. After a deep breath, a way to stifle growing emotions, she tried to fill the last few minutes with more about the man she wished she knew better. “Tell me something about your life. Take my mind away from…” She couldn't finish.

His heartbeat was a slow, steady thump beneath her ear. Another part of him she loved. Would miss.

“I was a gladiator once,” he began, his voice somber.

“Wait! You mean a
gladiator
gladiator?”

Her incredulousness, along with his brief chuckle, lightened the mood. “Yes, a
gladiator
gladiator. That was my last life before I was turned.”

Ezra's words came back to tease her. Her smiling mouth straightened, for this was no light conversation. He chose to share with her the final days of his old life before embracing a new, painful one.

“My sire had no love for me. He needed a bull to lead his personal protection, and he found one in a disgraced warrior.”

Corin's words grew heavier as he told her of the pain of his transition. Of his shame in being used bodily by his new master. He told her of his days in chains, of weeks in starvation. Of eventual years of loyal service. Centuries of being lost, without master or purpose, until the Council recruited him. The same Council that now sought to see him broken again.

“The gods never meant for us to live this long, Jas.” His throat bobbed, and she heard thick emotion choking him. “Not like that.”

“What do your gods say of the afterlife?” She pushed away from him, rose to standing. He had to start letting her go. Neither of them could stop the sun's slow ascent into the sky. By the time it settled, Corin had to have accepted their fates.

“The Elysian fields are where heroes and their loves are finally able to rest. Soft green meadows, lovely groves, sunlight that glows purple. It's paradise.” A measure of happiness now. “Not only that, if you wanted, you can come back to earth after being there.”

Her gaze drifted to the metal cart. To the tools of his trade. Hawthorn branches to immobilize a vampire, salt to slow mending, and ash stakes to pierce the heart. As in a dream, she drifted to the cart, mesmerized by its contents. She picked up one of his blades, her back to Corin, knowing what she had to do.