Love is Darkness (A Valerie Dearborn Novel) (31 page)

He was sixteen hundred years old and had been in an emotional half state of existence for hundreds of years. If he drank from her, his reaction would be extreme. Her blood was too intense for someone as old as him. Like a starved person being offered a steak, their body rejected it, needed plain water and time to adjust to food again.
 

Lucas could smell her empathic blood. Knew she wasn't merely mortal. Every time he was with her he felt almost intoxicated by her scent alone. And she desired him. That changed the call of her blood and her scent so that she wasn't just alluring but nearly impossible to resist.

She wasn't trained to control her blood, like
empaths
had been centuries ago. He was
fairly
certain that if he drank from her she would only give him desire since it was what she felt. Feed him desire for her until it consumed them both.

What pleasure might that bring? She was like opium. He blinked, suddenly aware that he was staring at her neck, watching the steady beat of her pulse push lightly against her skin.

Val watched him in his stillness. He'd disappeared into himself, a gorgeous and bloody automaton standing in her bedroom. There
was no blinking or nervous gestures
.

He is really dead.

She could forget that sometimes, like when he looked at her like he was just a man desiring a woman or when he told her the history of vampires and
Others
. She'd thought he'd been robotic before, but this was scary.

It made her
want
to flee, make a dash for her bathroom even though the door was no protection against him. Was he thinking about eating her?

He blinked and made a little half bow towards her before leaving out the front door and she knew he was too weak to dematerialize.

Valerie went to her kitchen and found a box of cookies.
Shortbread.
The fat content was insane but she had just survived a stabbing, attack, and near shooting, calories were the least of her problems.
It would be nice to live long enough to gain ten pounds.
She finished off the cookies with a glass of milk and hobbled back to bed, sore all over.

What did it mean that she'd drunk from Lucas? Would he have a hold over her? Her eyes closed and she fell asleep, the feel of Lucas as he'd held her close and tried to disappear with her like a ghostly embrace.

Chapter 12

London, England

The phone rang and Valerie reached for it, enjoying the happy realization that nothing hurt when she stretched. She was healed from Lucas’ blood. It had worked. Saved her life and she wasn’t a vampire. She didn’t want to dwell on it too much.

“Hello?”

“Val.” Jack’s voice sounded gravelly and tired. Jack didn't speak, the moment dragging out until she heard him say her name in a devastated way.

This is the call
.

She just knew it.
 
Something about the silence, the pain in his voice.
She spoke in a whisper, “Is he alive?”

“He's not
gonna
make it Val. The damage is too severe. I know he wants to see you before
it's
too late.” His voice trembled at the end and she knew he was just as upset as she was. Maybe more since Nate had been a father to Jack in earnest, whereas she'd been a reminder of his lost love and a liability that needed to be honed and cajoled.

She'd been work whereas Jack had been his hope. She got out of bed, already at the closet grabbing her suitcase.

“Where are you?” She asked trying to think about practical things.

“Italy. Rome.”

She almost screamed, furious that she’d even have to ask.
Of course
it was Rome.
Where she’d been last night.
Where she had almost died.
Did he know? Had he seen her?

“What's the hospital?”

“
Sant'Andrea
. I'll see you soon, Val.” He hung up and she hurled the phone at the wall, overcome by rage and sadness.

Hastily, she got ready and went downstairs to the street. She found a cab easily and had him take her to
Stansted
Airport where the next flight left in three hours.

Lucas could get her there instantly. She called him and left a message.
Where the hell is he?

She felt betrayed. He’d
promised
her that he'd take care of Jack and her father and he hadn't. Part of her knew that was unreasonable, he was in the middle of a coup, with potentially no allies and fighting for his own life but she was still angry.

The next few hours passed in a haze. She tried to read a few magazines on the plane but it was pointless. Images of her father, conversations had, moments where he’d been disappointed ran through her mind.

His voice.

His expressions.

Gone forever.

The way he used to tuck her in at night when she was little, or the way he hunched his shoulders when he was mad or irritated with her.

Most of her memories were conflicted. They’d let each other down, but that didn't mean she didn't love him. Maybe she should have made more effort, tried harder to let him know how much she cared, that even though she kept apart from him she did love him.

Would have, could have,
should
have.

The airport outside of Rome was busy, everyone seeming to be in just as much of a hurry as she was. She waited for her taxi and tried to focus on the drive instead of her grief. The taxi driver had a death wish, smoking and swearing at the radio in Italian as he careened down the streets like they were a ball in a pinball machine.

She knew some of the words he muttered because of Jack. Like when he'd cut his finger preparing dinner and had to get three stitches, or when she'd tried to sneak out and go to parties. All the memories of her life seemed to wash through her, and by the time she arrived at the hospital she was a trembling mess. She got out of the taxi at the hospital and walked to the front entrance.

There was a bench outside and she recognized Jack sitting there, hands clasped and head down as the world went on around him. She called to him and he looked up, brushing a hand over his cheek to wipe away tears. He came towards her and opened his arms, gripping her tightly.
 

She finally pulled away from him and met his eyes. They were so dark they were almost black. He looked haggard and she realized he'd lost weight since she'd seen him last. She could see the definition of his cheekbones, his features more severe in their beauty than they had been, any softness sloughed away.

“He's gone Val.”

She licked her lips, her throat dry and her body oddly numb. “Did he say anything?”

Jack shook his head slowly. “No. He never woke up. Last night we attacked some vampires. A lot of vampires actually, and your father was hit, knocked out. He didn't wake up.”

 
“What should I do?”

His hands went to her arms and squeezed her gently. “I don't know. We can leave or you can see him. He's still in the hospital room. I guess it depends on whether or not you need to see him one last time. If you have things to say....”

The vampires had killed him. She did want to see it, needed to know how it was done. She wondered which vampire had killed her father. Jack took her suitcase, pulling it behind them as they walked to the elevator. He led her past a bustling
nurses
station to a closed door. He gestured to it but stepped back.

“You don't want to go in?” she asked.

 
“No, I've seen him. I know.” He nodded and she realized he was angry at her. He'd been there and she hadn't.

Great.
This would be
another
argument they could have for the rest of their lives.

She went into the room and closed the door behind her. The curtain was pulled closed and she didn't want to open it, like it would be too noisy or rude somehow. She looked for the separation of material instead and stepped through quietly.
Stupid.

Her father was gray. There were no tubes or monitors in the room. Just silence. He was dead. What would they put in him? Nate’s hand was above the bed spread and she touched it lightly. She didn't have anything to say. But she sat down anyway and waited to cry.

Nothing happened. She'd cried on the plane, in the airport, even in the taxi. Now she was here and she had nothing left. She stood and looked at him. A bruise on the side of his face disappeared into the bandages wrapped around his head.

There were no bite marks. Her father would have hated that.

She left and found Jack sitting in a chair, arms crossed and head tilted back as he stared at nothing.

“Who did it?” she
asked,
her voice sharp.

Jack looked bewildered for a moment. “I don't know. The whole thing was a blur.” He shrugged, watching her carefully.

“Do you know what the vampire looked like?
Male or female?”

He frowned. “I don't have any idea. The whole place was chaos.”

She had nothing to say. She needed to find Lucas. Jack stood before her and his hand
raised
like he was going to touch her arm, but then he stopped and folded them instead. A nurse called her name, waving a phone receiver at her.

Jack went with her, reaching the nurse first and taking the phone, voice curious. She didn't mind that he took the
call,
he'd want to do all the funeral arrangements anyway. He was a control freak.
“
Buono
Sera?”
The vowels were smooth and liquid.

Jack's gaze flicked to Val, “Who is this?” he asked in English.

Val grabbed the phone from him and he let her, leaning against the nurse's station in a lazy motion that made Valerie's heart beat faster in fear.

“Hello?” She wanted her voice to be blank.

“Valerie,
”
 
Lucas
said tonelessly.

Her voice shook with emotion. “Where are you?”

“I am in Rome. Shall I send a driver?”

“No.” Jack was still looking at her suspiciously.

Fuck it. She hung up the phone and threw up her hands, turning to walk away. Jack grabbed her arm, stopping her, his grip too firm to be comfortable.