Darkness Comes (15 page)

She was torn away from the place of perfect peace when Jack jerked her to her feet, hissing, “We’ve got to get out of here; the rest of the vampires are going to be returning soon.”

Blankly, she looked up at Jack, blinking her eyes in bewilderment. With an abrupt return to the present, she inhaled sharply, looking with concern at the man still bleeding. His eyes were closed now and a peaceful expression softened his angelic features and for a moment she feared he had died. But then he took a shuddering breath and she started to crouch down but Jack still held her arm, preventing her from returning to him. Keeping her eyes on the man as Jack was pulling her towards the exit, she implored, “But we can’t leave him.”

“
He’s a fucking vampire,” Jack growled, relentlessly tugging her along behind him.

“
He’s not….”

“
Go,” the man commanded in a voice barely above a sigh, a smile on his full lips. “Go with my gratitude. Go now before the others return.”

“
But I don’t even know your name.”

“
Malorie!” Jack bellowed, grabbing her attention like nothing else had. He had never used that tone of voice with her before and she finally looked at him; he was furious. With one last helpless glance back at the man, she fled with Jack back out into the night air. They ran for several minutes before Jack came to an abrupt halt. Turning on her, he screamed, “What the fuck do you think you were doing back there? He was a vampire, Malorie; a fucking vampire!”

“
He wasn’t,” she protested softly, her thoughts still lingering behind her. “He was…pure.”

“
What does that even mean?” Pacing relentlessly, Jack dragged his fingers through his hair as if keeping himself from putting his fingers around her neck and choking her. He couldn’t even look at her without making a face of disgust.

“
I don’t know,” she confessed, unable to describe what she had seen, what she had felt. There had been something… innocent about the stranger, something untouched by evil.

That night, she had her first dream about the black haired man who looked so much like the stranger she had just saved, but he wasn’t. And when she woke up in the morning, she had no memory of the night’s activities and Jack acted as if everything was right with the world, even as they made arrangements to move to yet another hot zone.

“I’ve met him,” Malorie said, looking over her shoulder and meeting Feryn’s eyes. “I’ve met your son but I had forgotten until I saw his picture. How could I have forgotten?”

“What do you mean?” he asked, looking as bewildered as she felt and so she told him the story of how she had met his son.

He cocked his head to the side as he studied her; something fundamental was changing between them but she wasn’t sure what it was. Something with how he looked at her; the calculation was gone from his eyes. She hadn’t even been aware that it had been there until she realized it was gone. “You shared blood with my son?”

Blushing, she nodded and lowered her lashes, “Well, yeah; he was injured.”

“He would have healed on his own,” he told her, his voice soft and amused. Her eyes flew to his and his lips curved in a semblance of a smile, “He must have recognized what you were and wanted to create a bond between you.”

“But why did I forget?” she asked, dumb-struck that she had forgotten something that had had such a huge impact on her life; it had changed everything and at sixteen she would have been willing to trade in her life for that of an Aradian pet.

“My son must have made you forget in order to protect you,” he answered absently. Gently brushing a strand of hair from her face, he looked past her and at the photograph of his son. “Remembering would have affected your ability to fight and he wouldn’t have wanted you to put your life at risk by making you doubt.”

How did he know her so well? But she only offered a non-committal, “Hmm.”

“He never told me about you,” he said, and he seemed a million miles away. Walking over to the window, he stared past the trees and the flowers, lost in his own thoughts. “I wonder if he wanted you for himself.”

Malorie couldn’t help but snort at the ludicrousness of that possibility. He looked over at her, a quizzical smile curving his lips but she simply shook her head, unable or unwilling to explain. “I doubt that.”

In fact, the more that she thought about it, the more she realized that Feryn’s son had wanted her for Feryn. After all, that night was the first time she had dreamed of Feryn and it had been one hell of a dream. Her sixteen year old virginal body had no idea what had hit it and she walked around in a daze for a long time after she woke up. But, in truth, the reality was so much more potent.

Her tongue darted out as she licked her lips, fighting the temptation of his body even as her own body burned for his possession. She trembled at his nearness, desire making her insane. Every cell in her body yearned for him, for his touch, his kiss. His dusky scent filled her senses, and she longed to run her fingers through his thick black hair, over his smooth, velvety skin. She wanted to run her lips over his hard body, devour him whole.

“I’ve been dreaming about you since that night.”

His eyes glittered as his focus sharpened on her and her heart shuddered in her chest. His voice was low, enthralling, as he asked, “What kind of dreams, Malorie?”

Her face heated and she lowered her lashes, hiding the truth he would see in her eyes. “Um, I don’t remember.”

“I think you do remember.” Sliding one hand through her hair until he cupped the back of her skull and wrapping his other arm around her waist, he pulled her flush against his body, forcing her head to tilt back. His erection burned against her stomach as his voice came out in a growl. “Did I... satisfy you?”

His sculpted lips softened as his mouth came closer to hers. He was so warm; an inferno of heat that made her body vibrate with need. “Did I make you scream?”

Her throat was absurdly dry and her voice was barely audible when she spoke. “They were only dreams; you didn’t make me do anything.”

His mouth curved upwards in a rueful smile and he stepped back, releasing her from his spell. She had to grab onto the back of a chair to remain standing.

“Malorie, you must know that you belong here with me,” he implored, obviously sensing her weakness.

Shaking, she turned away from him, incapable of being in the same room with him and retain the ability to think. “Please, Feryn. I need some time to think.”

“I know that you’re scared,” he murmured, his thumbs moving over her collar bones, his fingers massaging the sore muscles of her shoulders once again. Leaning his head down, his breath fanned across her face, dark and tantalizing and her eyes slid close in pleasure. “But you don’t have to be; you’re a Breeder, you’re more precious to us than all of the blood in the world.”

“Stop pushing me,” she managed to choke out, trying to keep from succumbing. Her body went cold when he removed his hands from her shoulders and stepped back. If she were honest, she had to admit that she wanted to stay, to explore these sensations that had been simmering for so many years; to experience Feryn. But the price….

Taking a breath, she swallowed back her misgivings. “I’ll stay for now because I choose to stay, not because I am a… a Breeder – because if it were any other Aradian than you – any other – I would have been out of here long before now. Hell, I never would have been caught.

“And my son has to be given the choice when he comes of age,” she continued before he could say anything. “You have to let him see the world and make his own decision, no coercion.”

“I cannot promise that.”

“Then I cannot stay.”

“Malorie….”

“Promise me.”

She looked at him, wishing he would concede. Instead, he closed his eyes as if in pain; as if her words wounded him. Without another sound, he turned around and disappeared through French doors that led to the courtyard, leaving her shaken and bewildered. The only thing she knew was that she couldn’t stay there; she was weakening in her opposition to him, it didn’t matter what he meant to do with her. She wanted him more and more with each breath she took. It was madness, a disease; it had to be.

As soon as she got her shaky limbs back under control and her thoughts once again on the threat of their situation, she came to the realization that she had one last attempt to escape before she wouldn’t be able to anymore. It didn’t matter what awaited her out there; she knew that staying was far more dangerous. He would consume her and there would be nothing left. She just needed to make it far enough to find a phone; then she could call one of her fellow soldiers, have them track the phone number and find her.

Wiping her damp palms against the legs of her pants, she quietly walked into the room Toby was in. She kneeled on the side of the bed, gently rocking her son awake, “Toby, love, wake up; we have to go.”

Slowly he opened his eyes, blurry with sleep, “Mommy?”

“We have to go,” she whispered again, hugging him as she pulled him from the bed. As she set him on his feet, she put her hands on his slender shoulders, holding his eyes, “No matter what happens, Toby, never forget how much I love you.”

“I know, mommy,” he said in a small voice. “I know.”

With a tremulous smile, she stood, holding his tiny hand in hers. Looking down at him, she asked, “Are you ready?”

He nodded, his shoulders set in a determined line. “Yes.”

Chapter 7

By the time Malorie had gotten Toby ready, the sky was starting to lighten towards dawn and several people were already up and moving about and they were all absurdly beautiful. And human. She doubted they would run into any Aradians and with the rising sun, she knew that the vampires weren’t going to be an issue.

She had talked and argued with Feryn throughout the night and if she had been smart, she would have taken a quick nap before attempting to escape. Of course, if she had stayed another moment longer, she wouldn’t have been able to leave at all. It was infuriating being so attracted to such a wildly arrogant and stubborn man and yet nothing lessened the unbearable attraction she felt towards him, the connection between them. But if he couldn’t bend, not even a little, she couldn’t stay.

She had fought too hard and too long to survive in the harsh world she was raised; she was proud of her independence and the little slice of life she had carved out for herself and her son. And even her father, to some extent....

Holding Toby, Malorie stood in the middle of the nursery watching the portly woman as she went about the business of taking care of her plants. Thrusting her free hand into the pockets of her worn blue jeans, Mal still wasn’t sure what she was doing, knowing only that she needed a job and she thought she might enjoy growing things for a change. Liese’s Nursery was the closest garden center to the little quad-plex she was living in, even though it was still fifteen miles away.

If she could prove to her father that she could hold down a job, pay for rent, she might be able to convince him that they could finally – finally – have a normal life. After all, it had been nearly four years since the last vampire massacre; Gus had to know that the war was truly over. Almost all of the other Blade Soldiers had moved on with their lives; besides, that wasn’t the kind of life she wanted for Toby.

The woman looked up from her work, shielding her eyes from the sun as she looked at Malorie and her son, a warm smile spreading across her face, carving dimples into her round cheeks. She was a big woman, towering over Malorie by several inches and outweighing her by at least a hundred pounds. “Hello! What can I do for you today?”

“
Um….” She had no idea what to say and could feel her cheeks heating in embarrassment. It was even worse when the lady set down the planter and wiped her hands off on the front of her apron as she made her way over to Malorie, the friendly expression never once failing. Taking strength in that, she managed to find her voice. “I was hoping you might have some work for me?”

The woman’s warm, amber eyes sparkled as she took in Malorie’s worth with a glance. “Do you have any experience working in a nursery?”

Mal’s cheeks burned hotter. “Not exactly; but I’m willing to do anything… I just need a job.”

The woman stepped back and scrutinized Malorie once more, crossing her arms beneath her ample breasts. Pursing her lips, she asked, “How many hours a week can you work?”

“
If I can bring my son, all of them.” Malorie knew her answer was absurd the moment the words were out of her mouth but she didn’t care; they were true. Standing in the middle of the nursery, surrounded by plants and flowers, she felt something blossom in her soul; if she could, she would live there. “He’s a good child; he won’t be a problem.”

Her eyes narrowed further and concern slipped into her voice. “How old are you?”

“
Almost twenty three.” Well, she would be in eight months.