Chapter Twenty-Two
Seb glared at Owun. Fuck. If Lorenzo got squirrelly about the possibility of Elias sending a killer into New York, Seb could just imagine what he’d think of this jerk taking over the bordering territory.
“Victory claimed or not,” Seb’s own voice rang over the youngling’s, “the fight was won by Aiden Blackthorne.”
“Are you Blackthorne’s second?” Owun challenged.
Seb exchanged another glance with Elias. A bleak expression bleached the other male’s dark eyes, but he nodded.
“I am.”
“Very well. I officially inform you that Blackthorne is not here to claim his rights. Therefore, the territory is mine.”
“I officially inform you”—you fuckhead—“that the winner simply didn’t claim the territory. At best, that leaves Chicago as contested—”
“Oh, of course.” Owun smiled viciously. “Yes, that’s right.”
That blade of a smile…Seb had made a serious mistake.
Vampire culture was ritualized. As official seconds, their agreement would signal fact. Seb had declared, and Owun affirmed, that Chicago was contested territory.
Thousands of years of vampire tradition weighted their agreement with the finality of law.
He ground his molars.
Sure enough, Owun stepped forward and shouted, “I declare Bargaining Rights for the territory formerly controlled by Cleomenes, of Chicago and surrounds.”
Elias caught Seb’s eye and smiled sadly. Owun had just forced every vampire power contesting the Chicago area to the negotiation table.
And Seb had made that possible.
He sagged with the realization. But damn it, he was so tired. He hadn’t known how much he counted on the fire in his blood until that moment.
Then, with a light tinkle, slender, cool, artist-strong fingers slipped into his. Clasped his hand tightly.
Energy filled him. Maybe blood wasn’t all that made him strong. He stood straighter.
“When?” His voice rang.
“One hour.” Owun’s grin slashed wider.
“No,” Elias countered immediately. “There isn’t enough time to gather all the participants.”
“All the participants?” Owun sneered. “Tradition allows but one representative per faction. Venue and time to be decided by the fighters’ seconds. Which is. Not. You.” He stabbed a rude finger at Elias on the words. “The table will convene at the CIC Mutual Insurance Company headquarters.”
“Cleomenes’s own company?” Elias shook his head, sadly.
Seb’s gums itched with the need to fang up. If Elias had been in even half-peak condition, the youngling would never have been that rude.
But another glance at Elias made his fangs dissolve. He looked as tired and beaten as Seb had before Brie had given him strength.
Pity for the male briefly stabbed him. Seb had been unmated for four millenniums and thought it an eternity. Elias had been alone for more than twice that.
“As official second, I contest the location and the time,” Seb said.
“Blackthorne’s second has spoken. But…” Owun smirked. “You only have three vetos. That’s two.”
Damn. The kid knew his rite. Someone must have coached him.
Cleomenes? It seemed unlikely.
“You must allow enough time for the representatives to arrive for Bargaining Rights.” Seb glanced again at Elias. “It will take at least a day for the New York representative—”
“Chicago is abutted by the Iowa Alliance, the Northwest vampires, and the New York Cadre. The leader of the Northwest vampires is indisposed.” Owun waved his hand at where Blackthorne had disappeared. “But representatives from the other two are already here, aren’t they?”
Seb glanced around. Owun must mean Emerson, top negotiator for the Iowa Alliance. And from the New York Cadre…?
Himself. Lorenzo wouldn’t like it.
Ah, Lorenzo be damned. “One hour. But not CIC Mutual. That’s not neutral territory. Here.”
“This is neutral?” Owun sneered.
“Better than a place Cleomenes owns.”
Owun’s scowl made Seb think he’d certainly reject anything in Meiers Corners. The youngster’s eyes moved as if he was rehearsing chess moves in his head, and to Seb’s surprise, he nodded. “Here. One hour. All weapons banned within a mile. Agreed?”
“Agreed.”
Triumph gleamed in Owun’s eyes.
The youngling spun and strode out, the rest of Cleomenes’s gang following. Seb chewed back his fury and dismay. What did the traitor have planned? If it weren’t for vampire tradition, locking him in, he’d have denied this travesty of a meeting. At least neither side had much time to prepare.
Elias returned to the group. Seb, still watching Owun’s retreating back, said, “He’s up to something.”
“Yes,” his ancient mentor said. “Emerson?”
“Yes, sir?” The dark-haired lawyer escorted his wife to Elias’s side.
“You’ll need to know a few things to represent our interests—”
“Shit.”
The shout had come from the small blonde pixie in the tall lawyer’s shadow. Nixie clutched her pregnant belly.
Immediately Julian took his wife by the shoulders, eyes roving over her. “What’s wrong?”
“Fucking Braxton Hicks contractions…I hope.”
“You hope?” Julian was wild-eyed. “Or is the baby coming early?”
“Yeah, maybe we don’t take chances. Hey, Scary Ancient…shit.” Her eyes clenched briefly. “Damn. If that’s false labor it sure as hell hurts like the real thing.”
Elias put a large hand on her shoulder. “Breathe, Ms. Emerson. What do you need from me?”
“Right. You remember that favor you owe me? One veto, anytime, anywhere?”
“Of course.”
“I’m thinking maybe you can assign someone other than my hubby to this negotiations shindig.”
“Of course.”
“Great. Julian—hospital.”
Her husband didn’t need any prompting, lifting her into his arms and disappearing out the door.
Elias watched them go. Great sadness was in his eyes.
“It seems I must find a new representative for my Alliance.” He took out a slim phone. “Ms. Lebeau? For all the grief Cleomenes gave you over the years, would you like to dispose of his body? Yes? Good. Bring Mr. Thorsson.”
…
Seb grabbed my hand and prepared to lead me off.
Elias touched his shoulder. Or not quite touched, but brushed the air just above it. “Before you also go to make plans. May I speak a moment with Ms. Lark?”
“No.” Seb didn’t even growl it. “Anything you have to say to her, you can say to me.”
“Can I?” That small smile played with his chiseled lips, still gorgeous but now in a more older-guy sort of way. “Well, then I’ll say it to both of you. Mating is a complex process—”
“Damn,” Seb muttered. “I didn’t think you’d talk about that.”
Elias’s smile grew. “A vampire’s mate must be immune to mind control. Then there must be physical attraction.”
I glanced at Seb. His high cheekbones were flagged with dark patches. He said, “Do you really have to do this now?”
“I think it especially appropriate now.” Elias’s semi-smile never changed, but I got the impression from the sparkle in his eyes that he was laughing at Seb. “On the part of the vampire, that includes an overwhelming desire to touch and taste. To rub against her skin, cover himself in her scent—”
“That was for camouflage.” My words were croaked.
“Was it?” Now he was laughing at me as well.
Seb growled. “Mind your own business.”
“I try.” Elias cocked his head. “When I mind my own business, people tell me I should have intervened. When I intervene, I’m told to mind my own business. Neither way wins me friends. In your case, you have less than an hour. Do you really want to waste it on half-truths and self-lies?”
I said, “I’m confused—”
“He gets a kick out of it.” Seb grabbed my hand and dragged me toward the door. “All that esoteric mumbo jumbo, he thinks it makes him look wise. Let’s go back to Otto’s.”
“Otto’s?” I stumbled after him.
“Yeah. With Cleomenes gone you’ll be safe. My weapons case is still there, and I need some fresh cartridges.” He sliced a glare back at Elias. “Preferably silver.”
He was really anxious to get out of there. His pace made me half run to keep up, and with everything else that had happened, I forgot to be cautious about who we might run into.
So I didn’t see Derek, in the Dawn truck motoring toward us, until he lowered the window and leaned out, “Gabriella! What are you doing here?”
My ex looked exactly as he had when I fell in love with him all those months ago. My heart beat in painful recognition.
“You were in New York. I hoped to connect with you there.” He stopped the truck, jumped out, and grabbed me for a quick kiss, ignoring Seb’s growl.
Connect? I turned my head. Derek’s lips landed on my cheek. “I’m here on vacation. Why’d you want to see me?”
“I’ve been working with a psychologist. She taught me to express myself.”
“Wow. Good for you!” I suspected the enthusiasm in my voice wasn’t mirrored in my eyes, but I couldn’t help it. Now he found his expressive self? I could’ve used that months ago.
“Thanks. Want to hear what she said about you?”
“Me? You talked about me?”
“Sure. To analyze what went wrong, so I wouldn’t make the same mistakes.”
“That’s remarkably mature.”
“Dr. Freuden says you spent too much time playing with your art instead of working on our relationship. Then you pushed me to go too exclusive too fast. She’s worried about you. Me too. You push people away with that clingy emotional stuff, Brie.”
“Really. She said that, huh?” I wouldn’t call the desire for a stable relationship and sharing clinging, but I only shrugged. “Well, thank you for worrying, but I have friends who like that clingy emotional stuff.”
“Girlfriends.” He rolled his eyes. “Dr. Freuden did say I should open up more.”
Surprised to hear him actually admit that, I paused. “She did?”
“Yes. And we’re working on it.”
For the first time in a long time, I warmed toward him. “Good for you—”
“Of course, she’s safe. Sane. She said you were an emotional landmine.”
Ouch. I covered my internal flinch with a bleated, “Glad to hear you’re making progress.” Cover speak for enough.
Seb, reading me flawlessly, sidled closer, a frown darkening his features.
I gave him a blindingly bright smile. “Seb! This is Derek. Derek, Seb.” I used the unnecessary introduction to remind Seb to mind his manners, and to not turn him into a vampire smoothie.
“Hi. Watch out for the emotional landmines, big guy.” Derek gave Seb a friendly slap on the shoulder, laughing like it was some big joke.
Seb’s frown darkened to an actual scowl. He stepped between me and Derek, with just enough chest-bump to soothe my ego. “That’s enough.” A hint of fang flashed as Seb spoke, and more than a hint of macho male confrontation was in his stance. Even drained of his ancient mojo, Seb was a vampire to be reckoned with.
Derek paled and backed up. “Right. Well, nice seeing you, Brie. But, gotta go.” As if it was his idea.
“Wait.” Seb’s voice was dark with command.
My ex jerked to a stop as if he’d gotten a meat cleaver between the shoulder blades. “Wh-what?”
“Have you murdered humans? Did you pose their bodies with Meiers Corners tourist pamphlets?”
Apparently since the Alliance knew he was here, we were done pussyfooting around with camouflage. Or maybe Derek had just pissed Seb off that much.
“No! No, my lord. I have never killed a human.”
“Fine.” Seb’s growl was peevish, as if he was disappointed. “Keep it that way. You will forget I used voice on you. You will only remember Brie’s human friend. Now, get out of here!”
Derek fled to his truck and disappeared in a cloud of diesel.
Seb grunted. “That’s your ex? Ass.”
I smiled slightly. “Thanks.”
Seb glared after Derek until he disappeared around a corner. Then his stern visage relaxed, and he turned to me. “Let’s get to Otto’s.”
Returning to our room at the B&BS, as Seb gathered his tools, I sat down and tried to calm myself with a few quick sketches. Owun, Elias, Cleomenes…I didn’t even get empty but recognizable pictures. They all came out lopsided, like vampire versions of Bill the Cat. Like Frankenstein’s monster or the hunchback of Notre Dame, but in obvious pain.
Damn it, my art was about bleeding truth onto the page. These misshapen drawings told me that little chat had hit home.
Was I really an emotional landmine?
Had he been right to keep me at arm’s length, even push me away, when I’d wanted more from him?
I scribbled out my poor drawings as if I could cover up my shame.
Then anger tightened my grip on the pencil. He certainly hadn’t been right to parade his sexual conquests in front of me. I slashed harder. As I dug graphite into paper, I looked up.
Seb stood motionless, watching me. From his tilted head, he’d been watching for some time.
My face heated. I slammed shut the pad and stuffed it and my pencils into my backpack. “Derek rattled me. It’s no big deal.”
He filled his chest with air, let it out on a sigh. “Brie. I don’t know what’s waiting for me at the negotiations.”
“Yes. How can I help?” Here I was, absorbed in myself, in worrying about a relationship long dead, when he was about to go into a situation that would repaint an entire vampire territory.
“I don’t know how long I’ll be gone.” He set his guns and knives and whatnot down on a table, came, knelt, and took me by the shoulders. “But until then…I have half an hour.”
I searched his black gaze. It was strange to see him with gray tipping his hair and lines in his face. I found myself thinking about growing old with him, and strangely, I liked the idea. “Did you want to talk? Or do you want time to collect yourself? I bet that’s it.” I shot to my feet and edged around him. “Time alone. You want—”
“I want you.”
I stopped. I want you. The words rang inside me. I wanted him, too.
But not in the way he meant.
I wanted a connection. A lifetime of connection. Laughing, living, loving together.
He wanted sex. The kind not crippled by emotions, where he could walk away after, or I’d fall asleep and leave him in peace. Maybe, like Derek, he’d eventually learn to open up more, with someone safe…
Seb isn’t Derek.
That was my messy, landmine emotions talking. I wanted it to be true, badly, and it was in most ways. Seb was better. Stronger, smarter, better looking.
But in the way that counted most, the ability to give his heart, I was afraid they were all too alike.
And you’re going to let fear keep you from even trying?
In my dream, I’d given it a last all-or-nothing throw.
Dreams had no consequences. Loving Derek, only to get rejected, had sucked. Loving Seb…that might be for keeps. He’d already pushed me away. If he rejected me completely, he’d break my heart.
He’s worth it.
And there it was. The truth rang hard enough to shake me to my very bones. Truth that would explode from the canvas in white and silver and gold.
Safer, less painful to walk away. Seb was worth trying for, one last time.
Turning, I said tentatively, “I want you, too. But don’t you have to get ready for the Bargaining Rights?”
“I have to be at my best. That means doing something I should have done long before now.” His gaze, flames licking the irises, searched mine. “I want…no, I need to show you how much you’ve come to mean to me.”
Breath left me. I’d hoped for this, but I couldn’t quite trust it to be real.
Instead of responding with mushy sentiment or asking straight out what he meant, I cut a glance at the bed. “You want to show me? There’s that big old mattress over there.”
He quirked a smile. “So there is. Ready?”
“Never readier.”
He swooped me into his arms, as he’d done many times before. Yet this time he gave the tiniest grunt of pain.
“Seb! Don’t hurt yourself.”
He laughed, more of a groan. “I’ve been nothing but a mass of pain since I met you.”
“What does that mean? Are you sick? Dying?” The idea of him, gone, was unbearable.
“The pain means I’m alive.” He stopped at the edge of the bed and gazed down at me in his arms. The flames danced higher in his eyes. “It means I’m desperate for you.”
Maybe I’d lose him, either to the negotiations or age or because he didn’t want the same depth of relationship I did.
But I had him now—and I was going to show him how much he meant to me, too.
I grabbed his head in both hands and kissed him hard.
He groaned and kissed me in return, gentle and considerate…until his fangs descended.
Wanting to taste every bit of him, I licked one.
Seb’s reaction was instantaneous. He roared and tossed me on the bed, pouncing on top of me like a lion. I shrieked in shocked delight. His talons shredded my clothes. Misting took care of his.
And then his mouth was everywhere at once, kissing, licking, sucking.
My vampire lover was no longer holding back—almost as if he couldn’t. He made love nothing like a human. More like a tornado.
I stretched out under his hands like a feast. He caressed and licked every bit of my naked flesh, long talons stirring a darker pleasure. Then, when I was a mass of swollen need, screaming for release like a boiling kettle, he started biting.
The tips of his fangs punctured my stark and swollen desire with sharp full-body pows, mini-orgasms that left me wet and shaking.
A rumble came from his chest, that dark purr. Except for that pleasured burr and little smacks and sucks, he said not a word as he drove me to a frenzy. His silence, far from withholding approval, was him actively gathering input, paying attention to my sighs and moans and finally my writhing and screaming. His response was a finely tuned technique, tuned just to me.
“Enough,” I panted. “You. In.” I spread my legs and grabbed his damp shoulders, urging him where I wanted him to go.
He smiled.
He rose between my spread thighs like an ancient god. Zeus this time, with his silver-threaded mane, but still potent, masculine, robust.
His first thrust nearly shoved me into the headboard.
I grabbed his thick forearms and hung on for the ride of my life.
He slammed into me over and over, each driving thrust ringing my clit with pleasure. Higher and higher I spiraled, closer to the apex.
I knew this from before. The climax seemed impossibly steep, but I’d survive. I arched my neck. “Bite me.”
Seb groaned, a guttural sound that spoke a thousand words. He fell on top of me, his hips still rolling that thick cock into me—and his fangs punctured my throat.
I didn’t sail over a high edge this time. Didn’t light up with colors. Didn’t even burst cell by cell.
No, my orgasm smashed me like a wrecking ball. A whole-body contraction wracked me, the ball swung away, only to slam into me again. Intense wave after wave crashed and surged and crashed again, blowing my mind.
I wrapped panicked legs around him, arms scrabbling at his damp shoulders, clutching his body and trying not to get buffeted like a leaf in a storm.
“Brie,” he groaned. His arms came around me in turn, his strength anchoring me safely in the wreckage of climax.
As the contractions ebbed, my heart thudded in my ears—and licking. Swallowing.
Seb’s tongue hot on my neck.
It should have been scary, or weird. It was neither. It was…perfect. Reverent, adoring, almost prayerful.
As my heart slowed, my hearing cleared to his voice.
“Brie. My heart. My eternal fire.”
“My heart?” I whispered, my own heart giving a painful, hopeful thump. “What do you mean?”
As he pressed a final kiss to my throat, his phone chimed.
“It’s time.” He rose from the bed with a sigh. “I have to go.”
“To the negotiations. Yes. I’ll come with you.” I scrambled to sit up.
He stood facing away from me, his back still tall and straight and broad shouldered, his buttocks taut. “That’s the fire in you. Wanting to help, wanting to fight. But this time…” He shook his gray-black head. “You can’t.”
“Why not? Maybe I can’t be in the meeting, but I can wait for you outside.”
He turned, his black eyes meeting mine. “No more secrets. Elias is right.” And he did the last thing I’d have expected from him. He recited the Egyptian poem.
“Your beauty is as timeless as the Eternal Nile,
but it is the fire of your soul that calls to me:
unique, unquenchable, reaching for the stars.
I would love you forever, if you would but have me.”
I gaped at him. “You were listening.”
He gave me a brief smile. “Yes. Always. Brie—I think I’m falling in love with you.”
My heart skipped a beat.
“And now we must both do our best to close the door on that. We must erase the last few days, for both our sakes—for both our lives.”
I jumped from the bed. “What? No. You can’t tell me you love me and then take it back!”
“If I die tonight, you could die with me. You must push me from your heart. And I will push you from mine.” He walked to his suitcase and, with clinical precision, began selecting clothes. “I don’t love you.”
“But you just said…” I choked back a cry. Resolutely I hunted for my clothes. I picked up shredded panties. Threw them down. “I’m coming with you. We need to talk about this—”
“There’s nothing to talk about.” He pulled on underwear, still not looking at me.
“There’s everything to talk about.” How could he say I was his heart, then shut me out like this? I threw the words back at him. “I would love you forever, if you would but have me.”
Pulling on a shirt, he paused. Then, with a deep sigh, he finished dressing. “The poem. Yes. I sang it to her. But I think I must’ve written it for you.”
“You wrote it? But it’s Egyptian. Thousands of years old…” I trailed off as it struck me who I was speaking to.
“I wrote it to my wife.”
“Y-you’re married?”
“No.” He turned to me then, the pain in his eyes quickly doused. “When I was still human, I fell in love with a selfish woman named Merneith. I was a peacekeeper in Ancient Egypt, like my father before me, and that was good enough for me. But Merneith…she wouldn’t marry me unless I had higher status. I became a warrior in Pharaoh’s army. She relented, we wed, and I was blissfully happy. I even began to hope for fruit from our marriage.”
“A family?” I whispered it.
His shoulders jerked, a pained shrug. “Whatever I hoped for, it was crushed when I lost my legs in battle.” As if the strength left his legs again, he sank into the room’s chair. “I could no longer be a warrior. And without my high position…” Looking away, he swallowed hard.
A sheen glossed his eyes. Stumbling to him, I put a hand on his shoulder, a small comfort, yet it seemed enough for him to go on.
“Merneith left me. Pharaoh took pity on me and made me a scribe. Not as high-status as a warrior but still respectable, and I dared hope…” He laughed, a bitter sound. “I hoped to win Merneith back. I wrote that love song to her.” His face twisted.
The pain in his expression cut me to the quick. “Oh, Seb.”
“That day dawned golden with promise. I indulged in a set of bearers and sang it beneath her balcony. And she…” His voice broke. “She yelled names down at me, calling me a cripple and worse.”
My eyes and breast filled with tears for him. At that, I couldn’t hold back. I bent and wrapped my arms around him.
“There’s not much more.” Gently removing my arms, he stood. Walked away. Seeing him, standing there alone, back straight and shoulders braced but knowing he braced against his pain, my soul wept. “I got roaring drunk. In the dead of night, thieves attacked. My bearers deserted me.”
Heartsick and frightened. I wanted to go to him, to comfort him, but that stiff back told me he needed the distance. “How awful.”
He shook his head. “The pain of being beaten and robbed didn’t come close to the pain here.” He turned and thumped fingers to his breast. “I hit bottom—or thought I did.” His gaze was over my head, on some distant point of memory.
My naked flesh rumpled with premonition. I wrapped my arms around myself and waited, silent, for him to finish.
“A rogue vampire attacked me. Killed me.”
His expression twisted, filling in what he left unsaid. He’d been abandoned and terrified. He’d died as no one should have to—alone.
Distance be damned. I ran to him, grabbed him with both arms, and hugged him like I’d never let go.
For a moment, he stiffened. Then, gradually, his body eased. His head dropped to touch mine.
“The Ancient One took me in. Taught me how to be what I am. If not for that, I’d have died more permanently. I still wonder if maybe…maybe it’d have been better if I had.”
Cold stabbed me at the thought. “No. Never.”
Underneath my arms, his chest rose and fell, a sigh.
Then his arms came around me, but loose, as if he was holding on, not to comfort in return, but because he was having trouble standing. “I lost my legs, my career, and my wife. Then I lost my life, my humanity, and even the simple joy of sunlight. I lost everything. And the pain…” He hissed. “The pain was unbearable, each time worse than the last. Until finally…”
He stopped speaking. The silence drew out, achingly long, the only sound my heart beating in matching grief. I held him and waited for the terrible conclusion.
“Finally, I had nothing to lose anymore. That was when the pain…stopped.”
He raised his head from mine. A cool spot on my head told me my hair was damp where he’d rested his cheek.
I didn’t let go. Touched and honored by the intimacy of what he’d told me, I was terrified for what it meant. I said tentatively, “You’re falling in love with me, but you’re afraid I’ll be like Merneith?”
He took my face in his warm hands and tilted it toward him. Our gazes met. His eyes were rimmed with red, not vampire, but simple human sorrow. I crumpled inside for him. “Love makes me vulnerable. My attachment to you weakens me at a time I can least afford it.”
“Loving me…weakens you?” I blinked up at him as if I’d never really seen him before.
“Caring opens me to pain—and feelings are the enemy of action. Of staying alive. I need to be ready to protect you, to fight Owun and whoever is behind him, but how can I, if I’m distracted by the damned maelstrom inside me?”
Anguish hit me, cold and hot at the same time. This wasn’t Derek’s callous indifference, pushing me away. This was worse. Seb had been falling in love with me, the kind of opening emotionally that I’d only dreamed of—but instead of a good thing, it was the worst kind of bad. Love, a damned feeling.
Loving me weakened him.
I was ashamed, wretched. I weakened him.
All the beauty of our lovemaking was ash in my mouth. In my heart.
“What now?” In pain and anger, I tore myself away, flinging words at him. “You’ll pretend you don’t love me? Or you’ll actually go back to the feelingless bastard you were before?”
I regretted the words the instant they left my lips. Shame turned me cold, leaden.
His expression didn’t change at all, a mask of cool, calm competence.
But a red tear trickled from his eye.
I followed its trail down his stark cheek, sliding into the fold beside his mouth, and hated myself.
“Yes.” He wouldn’t look at me. “I think that’s for the best.”
My chest imploded in pain. I covered my mouth on a horrified sob.