Worth Dying For (24 page)

Whenever Bane had Katerina’s attention, he would find himself the subject of Paolo’s scrutiny too. The fool seemed to adore his wife, despite all of Vechea knowing he had been made a cuckold and laughing at him openly. Bane was no more than the first—and now the latest—in a long line of lovers Katerina had taken since her marriage, and he didn’t understand Paolo’s intense animosity towards him. Everyone knew Katerina still entertained many lovers—both male and female—but something about Bane in particular infuriated Paolo.

Bane was given an insight into the reason for Paolo’s hatred after talking with Katerina’s father. They’d gone hunting together at Ulrich’s request. Bane kept his distance when Ulrich had taken down the young male hiker. Like all vampires, Ulrich only fought over one of two things—either their food or their mates. Staying back as Ulrich enjoyed his kill demonstrated respect and showed good manners. It also spared Bane the torment of being tempted by the smell of fresh blood and the intoxicating mixture of fear and adrenaline that he had enjoyed so much when humans had been his prey.

On their run back to the walled city, Ulrich placed a hand on Bane’s arm to stop him. “We need to talk.”

Bane tensed, sure Ulrich would ask more about Amber.

“You must be more careful in your dealings with my daughter.”

“I do as she asks. What happens afterwards is beyond my control.” Bane ignored the surge of relief he got when Ulrich surprised him with a different topic than the one he had been expecting. Dare he hope Ulrich would insist the affair ended?

“Of course, you must do as she wishes, but I fear she has more in mind for you.” Ulrich smiled as Bane waited for him to finish, sure Ulrich could see his confusion. “Her marriage to Paolo must not be threatened.”

“I have no intention of interfering with that.”

Ulrich misunderstood the fervour in Bane’s tone. “Calm now, dear boy. I know you are an obedient servant. It is Katerina who wishes to replace Paolo with you. I cannot allow it. Her marriage was brokered to bring peace between us and our brothers in the southern hemisphere. Without that bond, treaties will be broken and war may erupt once more.”

The brothers of whom he spoke were from the same time as Ulrich—born to vampire parents before their race lost the ability to reproduce. Cousins rather than actual brothers, they had ruled Vechea with him for centuries until an argument over a woman caused a catastrophic rift between them. The others—Silas and Wilhelm—had joined forces against Ulrich. Until that time, they shared everything, including the females—and his cousins had not understood when Ulrich had found one he wanted solely for his own. He’d attacked them when they tried to mate with her and they had taken their revenge by slaughtering her in front of him and then escaping to the mountains of South America.

In the centuries that followed, they had built up an equally large and impressive family and had tried to overthrow Ulrich on many occasions. Each time a war had been fought by humans throughout the millennia, vampires had raged their own battles alongside. The loss of life had been so great that the families came to an eventual pact, vowing never to fight each other again. Ensuring the survival of their noble race became the priority, and the truce was sealed by the marriage of Katerina and Paolo.

“I have no desire to take Paolo’s place. I remain your humble servant but you know I want nothing more to return to my former life and live in peace on my island.”

“Yes, I know. Your need to be alone and wear sackcloth and ashes for what you are puzzles me, Bane, but I do believe it is what you truly want. Katerina, on the other hand, wants everything and is not heeding my warnings about tormenting Paolo. She throws her love for you in his face at every opportunity.”

Bane struggled for control before he said something to offend Ulrich. “Katerina does not love me. She sees me as a possession and doesn’t want anybody else to have me. That is all.”

Ulrich laughed. “Don’t underestimate her ability to love. She is a good daughter to me and has made my existence worthwhile. I would give her anything she asked for, except this. I need you to ensure she does no more to irritate her husband.”

The injustice of Ulrich’s request gave Bane a masochistic urge to smile. Could his humiliation be more complete? However, disobeying Ulrich was not an option. “I will do what I can.”

They returned to the house and Bane stole away to his room as soon as he could. Ulrich promised to speak to Katerina and counsel her on how to be more discreet in her affairs.

Bane knew Ulrich’s words had fallen on deaf ears when his door creaked open just before dawn and Katerina walked into the room naked.

* * * *

“Mom, please stop crying.”

Amber had begun to regret taking Detective Gillion’s advice on getting out of the city for a few days. The police hadn’t been able to find Solomon and could no longer justify the cost of placing an armed officer outside her door every night. Amber suspected that Detective Gillion had really just been keeping an eye on her rather than protecting her, hoping to get enough evidence to prove her connection to David’s death. When he came up empty, suddenly her safety didn’t matter anymore.

“I’m okay now, really. There’s nothing to be upset about.”

She hadn’t told her mother everything. The woman who looked like a smaller, older version of Amber didn’t need to know about the island or Bane. Her mom would see Amber’s pain if she tried to talk about him, so she stuck to the story she’d given the police about David’s murder. Besides, if Gillion ever did decide to speak to Dorothy Shaw about what had happened to her daughter, Amber wouldn’t want her mother to have to lie.

Amber wriggled against the vice like grip her mom had on her neck. “Mom…I can’t breathe.”

Dorothy let go with a reluctant sigh, smoothing her grey hair back into place as if worried she’d messed the tight chignon she tortured her locks into every day. “I told you no good would come of you living in the city. First poor Tom and now this.”

“This has nothing to do with Tom. David wanted to live. Tom wanted to die.”

Her mother flinched but Amber ignored it. Dorothy always had rose-coloured glasses on when it came to Tom. He had treated Amber like a possession and, when he lost control over her, he’d been unable to handle it. Tom’s kind of love hadn’t been healthy for either of them.

“You’re in shock I bet,” Dorothy said, downplaying Amber’s words, giving her a gentle shove towards the kitchen. “Come and eat something.”

Settled at the table in the heart of the Shaw home, Amber felt safe again. The remote farmhouse was miles from the nearest town and she’d often wondered how her mother could stand to live in such isolation. Life hadn’t been kind to her and for the first time, Amber understood that Dorothy was hiding from it.

The wooden house sprawled over two floors and had far too many rooms for one woman to manage but her mom refused to even entertain the idea of moving. Developers had tried to buy her out multiple times over the years but Dorothy hadn’t been interested. Amber’s father Declan purchased the large property just after he and Dorothy got married, in the hopes of filling it with children over the years to come. But fate had decided that he would die not long after Amber was born. The empty rooms had haunted her as a child, their disuse a constant reminder that life could be cruel and unpredictable.

Still, Amber called the place home. Whenever she said the word, the white painted house with the wraparound porch in a quiet part of Kittery was what she meant. Anywhere else had just been a place to live.

“You’re sad, my love,” her mom said, catching Amber unawares as she sat lost in thought. “What’s putting that pain in your eyes?”

Amber sighed. “I am thinking of a good, noble man who sacrificed everything for me and I’m sad that I’ll never see him again.”

“How long did you know David?”

Amber didn’t correct her. Maybe if her mom thought they were talking about someone else, she could let out some of the anguish she had been suffering. “Not for very long at all.”

“You were in love with him then?”

“I didn’t know until it was too late. You know me, always looking beyond what’s right in front of my face.”

Dorothy stood behind her daughter, wrapping her arms around her neck and planting a kiss in her hair. “You are always too hard on yourself. It’s my fault you are like this. I’ve made you afraid of life.”

Amber reached up to rub Dorothy’s thin, warm hand. “You made me the strong, confident person I am. This is my fault, not yours. I couldn’t allow myself to take something I wanted when it seemed so wrong.”

“How could love be wrong?”

She wriggled out of her mother’s embrace, turning to watch Dorothy’s reaction to what she was about to say. “But what if God didn’t want me to love him?”

Dorothy took a step back, shocked at the sudden turn of topic. She paused a moment, staring into Amber’s eyes as if trying to read the truth in them.
 
“Why would God want you to be unhappy?”

“He made you unhappy when He took my dad away.”

Her mother gasped and Amber wished she could take the hurtful words back. “I feel blessed that He let me have Declan for as long as He did.”
 
Dorothy straightened her blouse as if trying to compose her thoughts too through the gesture. “I wanted to join your father for a long time after his death but I got over that.”

Her voice had dropped to a whisper and Amber wondered if she was afraid God would hear. The weight of what her mom had just said didn’t hit her until Dorothy turned away, visibly upset by her confession and the reminder of her grief at the loss of her husband.
 

The similarities in their circumstances hadn’t occurred to Amber before, but her father had died saving her mother. The rare visit to the city had ended in tragedy when a truck lost control on a hill and headed straight for Declan and his wife, and the child she held in her arms. He had pushed them out of the way, saving them from certain death but not leaving enough time to save his own life.

Dorothy had been in mourning since that moment. She made a good show of enjoying her life but Amber always sensed she was just counting down the days until she could be with Declan again.

Amber went to bed that night with a head full of questions. Her father had given up his life to save his family. Was
that
a sin? Would his soul be damned if he had known he could die by his actions but he still did it anyway? And what of Dorothy—would she be damned if she ended her life early so she could be with her husband sooner?

It seemed like she had only just fallen asleep when her mother woke her the next morning for church. She thought of refusing but one look into Dorothy’s face reminded Amber how much it would mean to her.

So she’d borrowed one of her mother’s “church” dresses and sat through the service. But instead of gaining a sense of peace over what she had done, she found herself questioning everything she heard. Amber looked around at the faces of the faithful and wondered if they truly knew what they were praying for salvation from. What did they know of life and death—or the grey area in between?

A young priest drew her attention. He sat watching her with a compassionate smile on his face. Amber turned away, angered his pity. But when the service ended, and she had to pass him in the doorway, she couldn’t ignore the chance to ask him the questions he might have answers for. “Do you mind if I speak to you privately?”

She met him on a bench outside the churchyard after putting her mother into the car. Dorothy didn’t much like being shut out of the conversation and did nothing to hide her frustration. Amber would make amends later.

“What is troubling you?” the priest said when she sat down beside him then didn’t know what to say. The soft Italian accent surprised her although his colouring should have given her a clue. With his dark hair, olive skin and brown eyes, the young man looked like he’d stepped straight out of a recruitment poster for the priesthood.

“I’m sorry, Father. I have so many questions…about things you can’t possibly know exist.” Amber took a breath to calm her nerves and still the rush of thoughts running through her head. “I…I lost my husband last year. To suicide.”

“I am sorry to hear that. You worry for his soul?”

“Yes. It tortures me to think of him and where he might be now.”

The priest lifted Amber’s suddenly cold hand from her lap. “The Catechisms tell us that only God can decide who will go to Heaven.
 
Your husband committed a mortal sin and died before he could be absolved, but God knows the state of his heart and mind. Was your husband mentally unstable?”

“Tom had some personal demons, Father. He was never a truly happy man. I know that now.”

“Then don’t fret. God will know your husband was not culpable. A mortal sin can only be considered as such if a person is capable of choosing to commit the act. His illness may have made him believe he had no choice or that suicide was the only way.” The young priest kept his hold on her, staring into Amber’s eyes while she considered his words. “That is not the only thing troubling you?”

“No, Father.” Amber could barely find her voice or the courage to ask what she needed to.

“Don’t be ashamed. I can only help if you tell me what is wrong. Do you need to go to Confession?”