Beloved Vampire (Vampire Queen #4)

Beloved Vampire (Vampire Queen #4) Page 67
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Beloved Vampire (Vampire Queen #4) Page 67

She’d learned It’s okay was a balm on the most ludicrously disproportionate tragedies, but she used it now, a quiet murmur, because she understood what the words really meant. It’s not okay, but I’m here. I know. I understand. Hadn’t she realized, at some dark, instinctual level, that Mason knew what it was to be truly helpless to darkness and evil? After learning that, a person was never really whole or safe again. And maybe a vampire wasn’t, either.

He didn’t cry. She didn’t expect him to. That one voice break was more than she’d expected from a male with his pride, his age.

Vampires were so damned conscious of the consequences of perceived weakness. But his shoulders quivered with the effort of getting it all back under control, and she held him through those spasms, bending her head over his. When she thought it safe, she slid a hand to his jaw again and drew his attention up to her eyes. She locked him into her expression, the hope of her soul laid out before him.

“Before Jack was killed, before Raithe captured him, I was angry at him. Some irrational part of me thought he should find me, rescue me. I imagined he’d given up on me, that he wasn’t as brave and strong and wonderful as he was supposed to have been.” She took a deep breath. “When Raithe had him brought before me, he did fight, but he didn’t stand a chance. I saw the hopeless fear in his eyes when he realized he was going to die. The very last words he spoke were ‘I’m sorry.’ That’s what he said to me.” Now it was Mason who lifted his hands and cradled her face, his own expression reflecting her anguish, their shared pain. “It made me so ashamed of myself. He was a decent, brave, honorable man.”

She was amazed when a painful smile crossed her face, one laced with regret and sorrow. “He wasn’t superbly handsome, not exceptionally strong or gifted with invincible powers. He was just a wonderful, imperfect man who loved me. He deserved better than that. I’m not sure if I believe in God and all that anymore, but if there is a Heaven, my hope is that Jack forgave me for those terrible thoughts. Knowing him, I suspect he has.

“She loved you to the very end, Mason. Don’t ever doubt it.” Firming her chin, she straightened her shoulders, wrapped her fingers around his powerful wrists, held that amber gaze so close to hers. “From being sick and in pain for so long, I can tell you that I became a stranger to myself. My love turned to hate, my patience to fury and a longing for death. I only saw things as a very sick, damaged person sees them, not as the person I was. That wasn’t me. And that wasn’t Farida at the end. You understand?” His expression flickered, doubt and pain reflected there, but she dug her nails into his wrists, willing him to see three centuries of entombed memories differently.

“She knows, Mason. She knows. If you believe there’s any connection between her spirit and mine, know that I feel it so deeply nothing else is acceptable. She knows.”

26

A quiet settled between them after that. Jessica, on an impulse, took his hand, drew him from the garden and down to the beach, so they could walk. He followed her without protest, his mind obviously heavy with the memories, and for this rare moment, willing to let her lead. In some ways, she thought it bound her heart even more fiercely to him.

As they walked, she risked sidelong glances at him. When his shoulders seem to be easing, his eyes less brooding, she decided it was best to try to draw his mind to other areas. “So is one of the reasons you studied wizardry so you couldn’t be taken unawares like that again?”

“Part of it, yes.” Mason’s response was slow, but the even sound of it was a quiet relief. “The other part was what you saw, in the tomb. I wanted . . . I’m not a fool. I know there’s nothing left after the life has left the body. I’ve stood over enough corpses to know.”

That chilling tone again, but she refused to let him go back to that frightening part of himself. She tightened her hand on his. “You wanted to preserve her as you remembered her. Because you weren’t ready to let her go.” He nodded, surprise crossing his gaze. Jessica raised a shoulder. “Raithe dragged Jack’s body away. I never knew what became of it . . . whether he burned it or dumped it in the ocean. But I know if I could see him again, as he was, touch his face . . . I would have liked that.” She’d looked away during the painful words, but when his hand brushed her face, she tilted into his palm, coming to a halt. “Oh, Mason. I just realized. Your fear of enclosed spaces, and then being buried under those rocks . . .”

“It didn’t matter,” he replied softly. “It’s funny how all your fears for yourself will vanish when someone you love is being harmed.

All I could think about and feel was her pain, her need for me, and how I couldn’t get to her.” As they began to walk again, Jessica saw a cadre of sea birds fly over the dark water, silent silhouettes. “What happened afterward? Not . . . what you did to all of them. After that. What did you do? Where did you go?” Mason gave a short laugh, a bitter sound. “To be honest, I’m not entirely sure. I know there were stories circulated in the desert for the next month about a djinn covered in blood, stinking of the dead, who might appear suddenly by your well or at your tent flap at night. Fortunately, this djinn only stared through the startled person and moved on. Thanks be to Allah and all that. I existed on pure instinct, apparently, going to ground during daylight and then drifting at night.” His hand loosened, as if he thought she might want to pull away, but instead Jess interlaced her fingers with his. His words painted a chilling image, though, reminding her of the violence that could exist in the bottom of any vampire’s soul. But then, she’d discovered that darkness in herself as well, the night she killed Raithe.

He paused, looking down at their fingers, and something sad and tired passed over his features, aging him. “They even killed my horse, Jessica. Tortured and murdered the poor beast in front of Farida, in case more of my evil was trapped inside of him. That hurt her almost as much as her own torment, for she could not bear to see anything innocent harmed. Coman came from his bloodline, and I see him in the turn of his head at times, the flash of an eye. My vengeance was for him as well, for he had no way of understanding why humans, who had always treated him with such love and respect, would turn on him. At least humans understand evil.”

“Or at least expect it,” Jessica murmured. “I’m not sure I’ll ever understand it. When did you finally recover yourself, my lord?”

“I didn’t, not for a long time.” He shook his head. “Somewhere along the way I reclaimed enough coherence to stop being a desert bedtime story to scare the children.” That faint, humorless flash went through his eyes again. “But for many years after that, I wandered as aimlessly. Europe, Asia, the Americas, with no purpose, though I did find this place during that time. Alcohol doesn’t impact vampires, not in terms of physical deterioration, but I’m happy to report if he drinks copious amounts of it, a vampire can wallow in a pungent swamp of self-pity for an indefinite period of time. I thought about dying, even tried it a couple times, but was always thwarted in my attempt. I’d pass out somewhere before I could walk into the sun, and then when I woke, it would be dusk again.”

The return of his dry, self-deprecating wit loosened some of the tension in her stomach. “Fortunately, there was a vampire who did not give up on me. I’ve never gone out of my way to build friendships with my own kind. In fact, if asked, she would say I go out of my way to alienate them as much as possible.”

“Because of what happened after your parents died?”

Mason slanted a glance at her, but nodded. “Farida’s journal told you an unprotected vampire male adolescent’s life is . . .

difficult?” At her nod, a hard look came into his gaze. “If he can’t figure out a way to fight them, he’s exploited for the purposes of older vampires. A born vampire has value to them, though, even as they resent him for what’s seen as purer blood. I’ve seen the ugly underbelly of the vampire nature, and no trappings of civilized behavior will ever make me forget it.”

“But one vampire was different.”

“Yes.” That look went away, replaced by something different, though Jess wasn’t sure if she preferred it. “When I was twenty-three, surly, hateful and violent, sure to meet a young demise, Lady Lyssa took me under her wing. She was only a century or so older, but she is our last queen, habiba, and she is royalty through and through. While she had the guidance of her parents only in her formative years herself, I don’t doubt she emerged from the womb with a scepter in one hand. She is no one’s victim. She would appreciate your courage greatly.”

He turned her hand over, tracing the lines. “We are blood-linked, and her powers are stronger than most vampires’, her range much further. She was the one who came and pulled me out of that pit.” 038

Time was a dark, painful haze beneath the punishing weight of the rocks, bringing a gnawing hunger that would not let him be. On this, the terrible fifth day, Farida had died at last, so the spell binding him in the chains had died with her. But he was too weak, and it didn’t matter anyway. Even if he had been able to get his arms loose, he wouldn’t have dug free. He would have torn out his own heart, shredded it so it would all end. When he sensed another vampire circling the rocks, he was past caring. Let the interloper free him, try to kill him. He’d take them both down to Hell. Then he sensed who it was.

She and her servant pulled the rocks off the pile with a speed that would have surprised the mortals who’d labored so hard to put them on him. His hateful body, refusing to die and ignoring his suicidal bent, got progressively more eager the closer she came. His bloodlust raged to life, focusing with malevolent intent on her and the human blood of her servant, so near. Finally, when the load lightened enough, he heard her firm rebuke to her servant. “Go to the top of the pit. I’m fine, Thomas. Move back. I won’t let him hurt me, but you must be out of harm’s way. He’s more beast than vampire right now.” He’d loosened the chains enough that he shoved upward, erupting out of the rock. He stumbled on his feet, but she caught him.

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