Vampire - When Darkness Falls Part 34

Darian was there, sweeping her up. And though the unspoken law of the d.a.m.ned forbade him to destroy his own kind, Lucian walked toward them, ready to deliver the death blows, and ready to the himself.

Destroying Sophia had been his sole reason for existence....

But Darian reached her first. And even as she screamed in her agony, he was lifting her from the water and whispering and pleading.

And they both turned to mist even as the fog from the sea began to roll in.... He didn't die. Or cease to exist.

He stood by the sea and fell to his knees and let out a scream. It was the haunted, lonely cry of the wolf at night, howling to the moon; it was the shriek of the d.a.m.ned, of a man lost, even what had been the remnants of his soul now taken.

His cry was bloodcurdling.

It danced upon the wind and rode the waves, and the heart of it was a shriek within a storm, and carried from coast to coast across the seas.

The Irish crossed themselves, and said that the banshees rode with a vengeance that night. Even Norse kings, still certain they would sleep in Valhalla, cast up prayers to their ancestors and to their G.o.ds.

But by then, his s.h.i.+ps of misfits and the mighty had come upon the Isle of the Dead. And when he might have cast himself to the sea salt as well, they overpowered him.

Daylight. He was exhausted. Tired beyond death, so far beyond.

Igrainia's body was bathed, adorned in silk and jewels and fur. She was set upon a bier, and with all the ritual due the greatest royalty, she was set aflame and cast back to the sea that had claimed her.

He slept, and Wulfgar convinced him that he must live. Sophia was crushed, and there was a world of madness that must be ruled. Aye, and he was part of that madness! For many years to come, he killed with far less compunction, and far less judgment Indeed, he was a warrior, nothing more.

Aye, more, Wulfgar insisted. King of the undead. There must be sanity and reason. The farther they drifted forward through time, the more important it became that they keep their balance with the world around them.

And so he lived. Or remained undead.

And it would be more than a hundred years before he would sense Sophia wreaking havoc in the world of the living once again....

His eyes flew open. He felt the darkness around him, the comfort of his lair. But against that shelter, he found what he needed.

He sensed the disturbance in the universe.

His universe.

Liz MacGregor busied herself in the kitchen while the nice young man worked with the cable. She could hear the twins laughing as he worked on the box in the downstairs playroom.

She glanced at the clock. It was growing late. She wasn't used to Peter being this late, but he had called to let her know that they were dragging out all kinds of research, going back through the archives.

She was worried, thinking about Jade. She loved both her stepdaughters. The morning with Shanna had made her aware that they were all very lucky. Things weren't perfect, but they really were something of a family.

And she had heard in Peter's voice that he was worried about Jade.

Well, no matter how late he got home, they'd talk about it. She'd gotten up really early with Petey and his fever and ear infection, but that didn't matter. She'd be awake when her husband got home. She was just so thankful that Petey, who had seemed so sick, had sprung back so well.

She could hear his laughter now. It was late for the cable man to still be working. He must like his job-and be pleased to be getting overtime, or something. He had worked a long time-and kept the kids happy and laughing.

Glad of their enjoyment, she dried her hands on a dish towel and walked out to see what was going on.

Petey and Jamie were both silent then, just staring at the television set as if they didn't know what was going on.

Frowning, she walked around the young cable man to look.

A gasp of horror escaped her.

There was p.o.r.no on her television. Rough, brutal p.o.r.no. People with straps of leather covering many different places-but not the places that should have been covered. Men with masks and whips.

Women ... doing what they were commanded. s.e.x organs exposed everywhere... people having everything imaginable done to them. "How dare you!" she charged the cable man furiously, turning on him.

But there was something about him then. Something about the way he looked at her. She wanted to move. Her limbs were frozen. She wanted to scream. No sound would issue from her throat.

"Liz, Liz, what's the matter, Liz? You know, you are a pretty woman. And young still. Just a bit over forty. Peaking s.e.xually at your age, that's what some people say. Let's have a better look, Liz. I think you'll enjoy it if you give it half a chance."

He set his hand on her shoulders, drawing her in front of him. She felt his hands at her neck. She still wanted to scream; she was in horror, but...

His hands ...

On her neck. They felt good. His fingers were busy along her blouse. Undoing b.u.t.tons. It seemed oddly okay.

He had her facing the television.

She suddenly felt...

Swollen. All over. Watching ...

She wanted to be touched like that. And he was going to do it.

The twins were crying. She didn't care in the least.

Annoying little rugrats . . .

Rug, rug, rug. . .

She was lying on the carpet.

"Want me to get rid of the brats?" he whispered to her. Then he laughed. "For now .. . I'll just throw the little darlings in their cribs."

He was gone. But she couldn't move. She could only stare at the television. There was a reason she shouldn't be doing this. She couldn't begin to imagine what it might be. She struggled. It seemed she could see something far away. There was a man in her life. A husband. A good one. She could see his face, fine green eyes, dark hair with dignified gray at the temples. A man she loved . ..

He was so far away.

Mist settled over her. Deliciously sensuous ...

She had no control over this. The cable guy was there, smiling through the mist. It was all right. He needed ... something.

She heard moaning.

She was doing it. There was a sharp pain ... somewhere. It added to the sensation. Sticky, she was sticky with .. . something. Something red ...

But he licked it all away.

Later the television went to static.

Liz lay limp on the rug.

From their upstairs bedroom, the twins cried and cried.

"Hey!"

A doctor had touched her hand, awakening her. Jade jumped. She jerked her neck. There was a sharp pain in it. She'd been sleeping over the bed in a twisted position. She was sore all over.

But she saw the doctor and straightened immediately. This was a different man from the one she'd seen earlier.

He was older, with long, wispy white hair, a mustache, and kindly blue eyes. He was smiling.

"You're the fiancee!"

"I ... yes."

He offered her a hand. "Dr. Wainwright I specialize in rare diseases."

"Jade MacGregor, Dr. Wainwright. How is-"

"Your young man is much better. Miss Jade MacGregor. You've been the magic touch. He's doing incredibly well."

"He is? Really?" She barely dared to believe it.

She looked at Rick. His coloring was much better. He was breathing smoothly. His eyes were still closed; he slept "You should go home and get some rest," Wainwright told her.

"You really think he's going to be okay?"

"What do you think?"

"I think he looks much better."

"His blood pressure is good, breathing is regular, and the blood is pumping through him right as rain."

"Maybe I should stay a little longer."

"Miss MacGregor, I don't want another patient in here."

"Do I look that bad?" she asked with a laugh.

"You look gorgeous, young lady. The red in your eyes makes them a fascinating turquoise color, and those dark shadows underneath certainly do enhance it."

She smiled. "I think I was sleeping."

"This is no place to really rest. Go home. Come back tomorrow. He should be much better by then."

"All right. Thank you." She hesitated, moving up by Rick's head, touching his forehead. He was so much cooler. His pasty white color had gone; he was a far healthier-looking pink now.

She kissed his forehead. "Keep getting better!" she whispered.

He didn't respond. She glanced at Wainwright. "Don't worry," he told her. "He's not unconscious anymore; it's just a good, healthy sleep."

"Okay."

"Get going!"

She smiled at him again, then turned and left the hospital room. She yawned as she walked, barely noticing the nurse who was briskly moving along the hall with a tray of medicines.

"Good evening," she murmured.

"Evening," the nurse said.

Jade kept going. She turned back. The nurse was gone. Had she entered Rick's room? The doctor was still there, of course. Rick was much, much better. It was okay to go home.

She started down the elevator, thinking that she needed to leave by the emergency exit; the main doors would be closed and locked by now.

Shanna wouldn't still be waiting-would she?

Knowing her sister, maybe.

She headed toward the cafeteria, which was, of course, closed. But there was an area of machines for the night crew at the entrance to the main cafeteria, and she went there, worried that her sister might have waited for her.

She had.

And to Jade's surprise she wasn't alone. She was sitting there, her head slumped against the shoulder of Lieutenant Sean Canady.

Canady.

She had forgotten all about him.

"Lieutenant!" she murmured, hurrying forward. Shanna woke up, startled. "Jade . . . Oh, my G.o.d, is he-"

"Better," she said quickly.