Love is Darkness (A Valerie Dearborn Novel) (35 page)

BOOK: Love is Darkness (A Valerie Dearborn Novel)
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Maybe things would be better when she was stronger. Perhaps she could resist better when she was healed. If she could just stay away from Lucas for a little while she'd have a chance to regroup and see what was real, and what
was the blood
.

 

She crawled under the stiff sheets and closed her
eyes,
sleep instantly there to drag her under.

 

Her body jerked, as though she'd been about to fall and reacted involuntarily.

 

What if Lucas died?
All because of Marion, whom he seemed to hate.
But if he did hate her, then why had he allowed Marion to live for so long? She’d spoken of him like they’d been lovers for centuries. What was she to him? She wanted to know. Then she was dreaming about walking on a bridge.

 

This isn’t my dream.

 

 
It was nighttime and cold.
 
She could see a woman coming towards her.
Tall, thin and hard, long dark hair cascading around her shoulders, a child in her arms.

 

Marion.

 

Not a dream, a memory.

 

She was on a bridge in London, watching Marion through Lucas’ eyes.

 

Chapter 14

 

London, England

 

1927

 

 

 

Marion walked quickly, heels echoing on the cement. To
all the
world she appeared a mortal woman, carrying a sleeping child home after a long day.

 

Lucas watched her, as emotionally engaged in the scene before him as he would be if he was watching a badly acted play. Actually, that summed up Marion nicely: a bad play that never ended.

 

She shifted the girl's form closer to her, trying to lift her higher, so her face would be tucked against Marion’s neck. The heavy red cloak slipped down to show a pale cheek and Marion took the time to stop, cover the girl's fair hair back up and settle her exactly how she wanted.

 

There was never logic to anything Marion did. She acted in the moment.

 

Her ‘children’ learned or they died. There was to be no crying and no complaining. No whining and certainly no running away. Marion liked the idea of dissent, that her children were individuals and would
love
 
her
despite her sadistic coddling, but they could never give her what she really needed.

 

A foil.
Someone to smack her down and keep her in line.

 

The wind rose as Marion stepped out onto the bridge that overlooked the Thames. Her hair lashed at her face and swirled about her like a mad ghost, the curls being pulled and loosened haphazardly. Again the cloak slipped and Marion left it, focusing on the wind and the shimmering water below her.

 

It was a full moon and the water was inky black and reflective, choppy because of the current and breeze. She looked over the ledge then laughed at something. The woman was mad.

 

She put the bundle down on the ground. The arms and legs instantly splaying open in a way Marion undoubtedly disapproved of. She made a stern
tsking
noise and wrapped the girl tightly in the cloak, swaddling her in the dense fabric.

 

Mothers did that to soothe their babies and so she did it for her children too. Of course, the girl was twelve so it looked a bit odd, but Marion wouldn’t notice.

 

She sat back on her heels, the knot complete,
a
velvet mummy with only her face exposed to the night. Marion put her hands on the cold concrete and leaned down to give the girl a gentle kiss on the lips.

 

For pity’s sake.

 

Sighing, she picked her up, walking confidently back to the rail. With an effortless heave she threw the girl over the bridge, like a woman dumping a chamber pot out the window.

 

Lucas moved out of the shadows and Marion whirled around, a kid caught with a sweet after daddy had told her no.
 

 

With a smile on her face she walked to him, hands clasped in front of her.

 

“What happened, Marion?”

 

“Nothing.”
Still smiling, she shrugged. Her breath fogged the air, her body still warm from the girl’s blood.

 

“How many is that this year?”

 

Marion licked her lips nervously. “Two. She was the second this year, just two. And her death was a mistake. She became sick.”

 

The lies were just insulting. “Marion,
it's
March. And I know she was neither ill nor a runaway.”

 

Marion looked genuinely frightened for a moment then gave another careless shrug. “What would you have me do Lucas? I see a pretty girl, she reminds me of Margaret and I try

 
I
do
try
to take only the girls you allow, but sometimes I am overcome. It's the mother in me. I love too deeply, Lucas.” She sounded so pitiably sad.

 

Lucas looked into her eyes, rich brown eyes that were beseeching him so prettily and frowned. This would end.
One way or another.
“Marion, there can be no more mistakes. You are to make a companion.”

 

She gasped in horror and her hand flew to her mouth in shock, her little fangs flashing like diamonds. “
Non
!”

 

“There have been too many accidents and you are too restless. It's dangerous for you and work for me. I won't spend my time policing you. You will make someone to be your equal. I want to meet the person you choose as consort. I will be there for the change, ensure that a sufficient amount of your life-force goes into their making. I want them to be more powerful than you. You will become Second to whomever you choose.
 
Do you understand me?”

 

Lucas saw fury flash in her eyes. But she was too powerful to be wandering around murdering at will.
Too unpredictable.
She needed someone to tame her, and that wouldn’t happen if her chosen wasn’t powerful enough to contain her.

 

She gave a laugh that pierced him like shards of glass. “You want me to be better behaved? You think to chain me like a
dog
? How dare you! I am six hundred years old. I
try
to live as you bid me but you ask too much. It is unnatural and perverse, Lucas. I
did
love that girl. I love them all!” Huge tears welled in her eyes and cascaded down her cheeks.

 

If he killed her now, he could go.

 

Marion decided to try a different tactic, “Please Lucas, for what we had, the love you bore
us
, do not take this from me. I know it must be hard for you, alone for so long and to see what I have with my children, that special bond that only a mother can have... but hurting me won't make you less alone or happier.” She waited, gaging the effect she might have had on him.

 

And there it was. The reason she lived. ‘
don’t
kill me because of the love you bore
us
.’
 
How many deaths did he allow because he’d once loved?

 

“Marion, I do not kill you in sufferance of the past we share, but the world is changing and little girls cannot disappear the way they have these last hundreds of years. The humans have come too far, it risks exposing us all. None of these girls are Margaret and they never shall be. You must change. Find someone to care for you. Bring him or her to me and I shall oversee the transformation. You have a year. Find someone.

 

“A year!” she screamed, “You want me to choose a partner for
eternity
in one year? You want me to be miserable. Admit it, you only wish to curb me because my power is a threat to you. Everyone else is gone, except for me. Don't pretend that I am so stupid to not see it! That you force the second most powerful vampire in the world to give up power on pain of death, only so that there is no risk to your throne.”

 

“Treasonous words, Marion.”

 

“True words,” she mocked him, “The world is changing, Lucas. You cannot rule with absolute power as before. These humans have evolved, there is
democracy
now,” she said democracy like it contained letters she had never heard before.

 

“That has nothing to do with our race. I do not fear you Marion. We know the outcome of a contest.” He moved before she could react, invading her personal space and cupping his hand against her face gently: a parody of tenderness. His hand moved downwards, touching the lean lines of her neck and he knew she understood the
threat,
he'd rip her head off before she could do a thing to defend herself.

 

He knew his power burned her. Marion held herself still, pushing all of her energy into her flesh, forcing herself to be just as hard as him. He gave her a sad little smile, his power running over her, forcing her flesh to softness. Then his fingers squeezed her throat.

 

“I will rip your head off of your swanlike neck, if you do not come to me with a consort within the year.” He released her and stepped away, vanishing before she could tell him what an utter bastard he was.

 

For the next two months Marion was in a fury, leaving a bloodbath behind her, killing anyone who would go with her, savagely tearing their throats out to display her frustration with Lucas. She was like a dog
who
peed in the house when her owner left her alone for too long.

 

He had done enough to spare her. Last chance and if she didn’t fall into line he’d break his word and kill her. He waited for her in her apartment.

 

He saw her wrinkle her nose at the smell. She walked into the dining room, where the smell worsened, seeing chairs filled with corpses. Flies buzzed around their heads, resting on their eyes and mouths.

 

Lucas strode into the room and grabbed her quickly. She tried to react, managing to hit him with one fist before he picked her up and threw her onto the dining room table.

 

She landed on top of a dead sailor with a thud and recoiled away from him, scooting backwards, misjudging the distance so that she plopped off the side of the table and into the lap of a small dead boy with dark hair and dirty clothes. Marion scrambled to her feet.

 

Lucas came towards her again, slowly and precisely.

 

“Kneel.” His voice was like thunder.

 

She complied. He saw her comprehend.

 

Her eyes dropped to the carpet, nipples pebbling against the bodice of her gown. “Lucas”, she breathed, the word filled with desire. Even as she feared for her life she desired him.

 

It was almost irritating.

 

He grabbed her from the floor and threw her into the wall, her cry of pain sounding suspiciously like pleasure. She sagged but kept her feet and waited for him to come to her.

 

 
“You have fouled my home,” she said, and it sounded flirtatious.

 

Marion pulled up her skirts, baring her legs and thighs. She made her stance wider, put her hand between her legs and touched herself.

 

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