Vampire Memories #5 - Ghosts of Memories (29 page)

After so many decades of playing the same role over and over at Christian’s bidding, Ivory couldn’t seem to help enjoying this unusual situation. She was hiding out in a room with a kindhearted, handsome mortal—with a gun down the back of his slacks—helping him guard an eccentric aging woman who was snoring on a pile of blankets.

Had someone told her four or five nights ago that this was how her week would end, she’d have laughed in the person’s face.

But here she was.

And there he was.

Maybe it was just because he was such a sharp contrast to Christian, but she couldn’t remember ever having liked anyone as much as she liked Wade. In her mortal years, “nice” hadn’t held any attraction for her when it came to men, but right now, his unfailing kindness was a light in the darkness. He was always so nice.

How had she never appreciated that before?

In addition to enjoying his company over the past few nights, she’d also been reveling in the glorious experience of living almost without the sickening fear in her stomach. The barest traces of it remained, but her mind was clearer now than it had been since the night Christian turned her.

For so long, she’d existed in terror of what would happen to her without Christian…and now that fear was almost gone. She could think again. She was herself again. Her thoughts kept turning to the future.

Every time Wade talked about the church, the street where he lived in Portland, and the mission that he and Eleisha had undertaken, she found herself having fantasies about living there and helping them, and never wearing an evening gown or looking into Christian’s cold eyes again.

But, of course, she knew she’d never be free. She had no idea what Christian’s game was here, and asking him would be pointless. If she even suggested leaving with Wade or if she tried to break free, Christian would hit her with everything he had. If she ran, he’d find her, and he’d make her sorry.

She’d never get away from him. He was too strong.

Wade crouched down beside Vera. “Do you think she’s warm enough?”

He was facing away from her, but she smiled at the back of his head. “I think so. I’ve got her legs covered.”

Then…a voice rammed into her mind, and from somewhere downstairs, Christian spoke directly into her thoughts.

Kill Wade right now, and I’ll let you go. I’ll give you your complete freedom and the Wells Fargo savings account. You know I’ve never lied to you when it comes to business. Kill him, and I promise you’ll be free with enough money to go anywhere you want.

Julian kept his shoulder up against the house, and he stayed in the shadows as he approached the patio.

Cautiously, he stepped just close enough to see around one open door and look inside.

As Mary had reported, a large dining room spread out before him, and two people were just inside, standing at a tall table, sipping glasses of red wine. They spoke to each other in low voices. Christian’s profile was in clear view, but Julian could see the woman only from the back. He remembered Mary’s offhand description of Ivory:

Skinny, blond, low-cut dress, blah, blah, blah.

From what he could see of this woman, she was slender and blond, wearing a long light pink gown. More important, he sensed no life coming from her. He smelled no blood pounding beneath the surface of her skin.

He was looking at a pair of vampires.

Sliding his oiled sword out silently, he tensed and readied himself to take them both in two swift movements. But he’d have to step past Ivory to strike Christian first.

Eleisha was having a little trouble pretending to carry on a polite conversation with Christian. For one, she kept expecting to see the glint of a sword at any second, and that was distracting enough. But even worse, the unwanted, pain-inducing thoughts of how much she wanted to join Christian kept passing through her mind, no matter how hard she tried to push them away.

Philip was standing just around the corner, ready to attack, and she tried to focus on him, but that only made it harder to keep poised for Julian’s swing.

Fighting to clear her mind, she took another tiny sip of wine and tried to think of some other pleasantry she might say softly to Christian and give him something to chat about for a few moments.

But just as she looked up at him, she saw him turn his head slightly to the left, and somehow she knew…she knew it had begun.

He shoved her and then started to whirl to the right. A flashing, glinting blade swept through air and missed his throat by inches. Eleisha grabbed the table to try to hold herself up. Forgetting Christian and Philip and everything else, she focused all her mental strength on the tall, dark form moving beside her as he pulled back for another swing.

Freeze!

She drove the command into Julian’s mind with everything inside her, and his body went rigid as his eyes went wide.

She hadn’t seen him clearly in some time, as he always managed to put her down quickly before a battle, but she knew every line of his face, from his near-black eyes to his thick jaw. She’d known him since she was twelve years old. He was her maker. He was her enemy.

The last thing she wanted to do was take part in his death, but he’d left her with no choice.

Knowing the command to freeze wouldn’t last, she locked onto his mind to hold him there long enough for Philip or Christian to take his head. She’d promised to do her part here, and she would.

She needed to daze him, to make him forget where he was, so she started firing images into his mind, memories of heads he’d taken and of the moment he’d struck…first his own maker, Angelo, whom he’d killed outside of the manor in Harfleur…then Maxim’s maker, Adalrik, whom he’d killed in a library near Shrewsbury, England.

This is your legacy,
she whispered into his thoughts,
nothing but the death of your own kind.

She took no satisfaction from the pain twisting across his face as he saw the ugly images she showed him, from making him watch his own crimes over and over.

But this all happened in the span of a few blinks, and even while holding there in those split seconds, she was aware of Christian grabbing his sword by the cabinet, and then she was aware of Philip rushing around the corner of the dining room with his machete in his hand.

She held Julian fast, knowing that as awful as this was, she had to hold him, and it would all be over in a matter of a few more seconds. She thought Philip would reach him first.

But then Christian blurred past her, sword in hand, and he started to draw his arm back to take a swing. But somehow, as his right elbow came backward, it slammed hard into her head, right between her eyes.

She lost her hold on Julian, and everything went black.

Christian didn’t bother watching Eleisha fall, as he knew he’d knocked her out cold, and he also knew that later, he could convince her it had been an accident.

But the sight of her hitting the floor did give Philip pause in his rush as he ran into the room.

“Eleisha!”

Christian focused all his energy on watching Julian break free of Eleisha’s control and come back to himself. Julian leaped to one side, gripping his sword, and in that instant, Christian summoned and sent an impulse.

Kill Philip first. He’s much more dangerous, and you’ll die if you don’t kill him first. But your gift is broken, so you can’t use it. Remember that it won’t work.

chapter seventeen

W
ade was crouched beside Vera, watching her sleep, trying not to think of what Eleisha and Philip were about to face downstairs, still questioning his own agreement to stand guard up here. Christian had just been so convincing.

He reached out to pull Vera’s blanket up a little higher, and he heard Ivory coming up behind him. “I wonder how long she’ll stay out,” he said. “We’ll have a hell of a time explaining this to her if she wakes up.”

But instead of answering him, Ivory reached under his sport coat and pulled the gun from the back of his slacks. The movement was so swift and unexpected that by the time he’d jumped to his feet and whirled, she was halfway across the room, pointing the barrel at his head.

“Ivory?” he asked, incredulous, not even sure what else to say. What was happening?

She looked so strange standing there, her blond hair glowing, her red dress reflecting an overhead light…but she held his gun like she knew how to use it.

“Wh-what…?” he stammered. “What are you doing?”

The skin on her face had a wild sheen to it, and her eyes were too bright. She looked manic, and he couldn’t even begin to talk her down until he knew what was wrong. In desperation, he tried reading her thoughts, but she blocked him.

“Don’t!” she said, holding the gun straighter, and in that instant, he realized she was capable of pulling the trigger. She was going to kill him. He could see it.

Of all the ways he’d thought to die, this wasn’t among them: shot with his own gun by a person he was beginning to care for.

“I have to!” she cried, sounding almost hysterical. “He said…he said if I did he’d let me go. He’d set me free. You saw inside me! You saw everything. You know I have to get free even if…even if it means…”

She kept the gun pointed at his head.

But her words were churning in his mind. She’d been promised that if she killed him, Christian would set her free? That made Christian capable of premeditated murder, and he was downstairs right now with Eleisha and Philip.

And Wade was about to die.

“You don’t have to do this,” he said, his mind racing for any way to make her lower the gun. “You can get away from him on your own. Just come back to the church with me. I promise we’ll protect you. We won’t let him near you.”

“No.” She shook her head. “You can’t promise that.” But she took a step back, and her eyes were shifting back and forth. “I’ve felt so different the past few nights, almost like myself again…like I can think again.”

“That’s because he hasn’t been focused on you!” Wade nearly shouted. “I think he’s been focused on us instead. Don’t you see? As long as you’re with him, he can keep you under control, keep you terrified to leave him, but if you get away from him, everything really will be okay, and you won’t be afraid anymore.”

She was watching him now, listening to him.

“Maybe I could get away,” she whispered, almost to herself, “but I’d have to disappear.” There was a small pile of broken easels beside her, and she dropped down into a crouch. Her eyes were less wild, but the sheen on her skin was worse. “Wade,” she said, sounding like she was in pain. “Come and take the gun from me.”

As she lowered it, he rushed over, wanting to take it from her but wanting to help her at the same time. Why would Christian want him dead this badly?

“Here,” he said, crouching beside her. “I’m right here.”

He reached out for the gun, but she dropped it so that it bounced off the floor. The motion confused him, and then she grabbed the leg of a broken easel and swung hard, catching him across the temple. He fell to the side, more shocked than injured, but he could hear the sound of running feet.

Touching the side of his head, he tried to struggle up. “Ivory?”

His gun lay beside him, but the door was open and Ivory was gone. Jumping up to his feet, trying to ignore the pain in his head, he ran for the door and looked down the hallway. It was empty. She was gone.

He remembered her whispering to herself,
I’d have to disappear.

Somehow, he knew she’d get herself out of this house…and just run. He’d gotten through to her, but not in the way he’d hoped. She’d broken free of Christian, but she wanted to disappear.

“Ivory,” he said softly, and the sadness welling up inside him was surprising. He barely knew her. But the thought of never seeing her again hurt.

Turning back into the room, he watched Vera sleeping soundly. Although he hated the idea of leaving her up here alone, he knew he couldn’t stay with her. His friends needed him.

Striding back, he grabbed the gun, and after closing the door behind himself to try to hide Vera, he made a run for the stairs.

Even though Julian didn’t need to breathe, he wanted to gasp for air. Eleisha had just had him under her control again. He could still feel her fingers in his mind, forcing him to watch himself over and over as he killed his own maker.

He dreaded nothing more than having Eleisha inside his mind, filling him with horror, controlling his body, making him her puppet. He wanted to choke. But then, somehow, he’d been released, and he stumbled across the dining room floor just in time to see Philip running in and looking down toward the floor.

How could they even be here? Mary said they were on their way to Portland.

“Eleisha!” Philip cried.

Something important had just happened, but Julian wasn’t sure what. He had time for only a single glance down to see Eleisha lying on the floor before an urge hit him, and he knew exactly what he had to do.

Christian was not a danger. He would die easily, but with Eleisha down, Philip was the greatest danger in the room. He had to die first. Julian had to kill him.

Philip recovered almost instantly from the shock of seeing Eleisha on the floor, and he tossed his machete from his left hand to his right—as he was good with either hand, but slightly better with the right. Julian needed an advantage, and he started to call upon his gift, to send a wind of fear shooting around the room, engulfing and crippling everyone but him.

But then he remembered that he couldn’t do this. His gift was broken, and it didn’t work.

Snarling, he charged.

The urge was stronger now. He had to take Philip’s head.