Chapter 12
H ow could Emma tell him the truth? How could she explain that it wasn’t her soul, or the demons, or even the vampires, as frightening as they were, that she was so afraid of—it was him. She was afraid that he’d already stolen her heart, and he was going to leave her, and take it with him.
She was afraid of going back to Wolvesrain, and living the way she had before. Alone, with nothing to look forward to, and no one to share her hopes and dreams with. To live like a ghost in a crumbling old castle.
“I’m not sure how you feel, exactly. I’m not sure what you want from me. Where you see this thing we have between us, going.” There, she’d said it. She’d opened up, and told him her fears. And he did the worst thing he could do. He didn’t say a word. Instead he got up and walked across the room. Disappointment filled her as she watched his retreat. Did he just not care?
He stopped in front of a cabinet and took out a large jagged stone filled with beautiful clusters of lavender and purple. She watched him with her heart lodged in her throat as he walked back and sat in front of her. He placed the crystal in her hand.
“This is called an amethyst. It will bring you inspiration and insight. Now look into the crystal, focus on the colors, on the movement within the stone.”
She stared intently at the stone, trying to keep the tears at bay and concentrate as he asked, on the stone, on anything but the ache in her heart. But she couldn’t.
“Trust me, Emma.”
She looked at him, her eyes locking on his. “I want to.”
“I don’t want anything to happen to you. We have to concentrate on beating the demon. Then and only then, can we see about everything else. Okay?”
He was so practical, rational, logical. Male. She nodded. He was right. But even as she tried to do as he asked, tried to focus on the stone, she found her mind drifting. She closed her eyes slightly, peering at him from under her lashes, watching his every move, the rise and fall of his chest as he breathed, the slight tilt of his head as he concentrated on the amethyst.
She thought of the intensity of his gaze. The endless blue of his eyes that sent longing tripping down her spine. Surely he could feel how much he moved her, and how much she wanted him to notice her, to think of her the same way she was thinking about him.
No, he was too busy focusing, or meditating, or whatever you called it. She wanted to know what it would feel like to be touched by him, to touch him. To be encircled in his arms and held close. How she wished she had the nerve to press her lips up against his, to—
“Emma?”
Caught. A guilty smile moved her lips.
“You okay? If you lose focus, you lose.”
“I know,” she whispered. There was nothing wrong with her focus, she thought, as she stared at his lips, his hands, the hard lines of muscles protruding from his sleeveless shirt. She just couldn’t seem to focus on what he wanted her to focus on, on the crystal he was holding in his hands.
“Here,” he said, and scooted behind her, nestling close to her back, too close. She could feel him all around her, his warmth, the hard lines of his chest. His scent drifted through her, teasing her.
He lifted the crystal in front of them. “Now take hold,” he said softly into her ear, the rich tone of his voice reaching deep inside her to stoke fires already inflamed.
“Like this?” she whispered. She took a deep breath and held the crystal.
He cupped his hands under hers. “Now focus on the striations deep within the stone. Notice how they splinter, follow the shadows, then focus on the essence with in you.”
“Essence?” Oh, God. His breath, warm on her ear, heated her skin and stole her breath. She couldn’t move, couldn’t concentrate on anything but his skin against hers.
“Picture it as a flower, a large white lotus sitting at the base of your spine. Now look into the crystal and picture the petals opening, one by one.”
Her pulse thundered in her ears. She could barely hear him. Why couldn’t she breathe? She let out a soft whimper, and turned slightly in his arms, her hooded gaze catching his. He stopped talking and stared at her, his eyes darkening with desire.
He did want her.
Her lips parted slightly, as she pulled in a shallow breath. He glanced down at them, then back up into her eyes.
She moved closer, her lips a breath from his. “Damien,” she whispered.
And then his mouth was against hers. She wasn’t sure how it happened, or who made the first move, but his kiss, his touch was everything she’d dreamed it would be and more. He moved slowly, tentatively pressing his mouth against hers. He tasted warm, his touch gentle. And then he pressed harder, and his hold on her body tightened, his lips moving over hers.
His tongue slipped into her, touching hers, moving back and forth, tasting her, sweeping inside her, as if he couldn’t get enough. She let loose a soft moan, and swiveled so she could feel him closer against her, her arms wrapping around his neck, her fingers playing in his hair at the nape of his neck.
Warmth flooded through her, chasing a wave of euphoria. And after a moment she thought could never end, he pulled back and they stared into each other’s eyes, neither of them saying a word.
“Well, there’s a technique it appears she’s mastered.”
Emma stiffened as embarrassment washed through her. Damien pulled away and stood as a tall woman with long auburn hair and large green eyes stepped into the room.
“Lady Dawn,” Damien said, nodding.
Emma didn’t like the way she was looking down her nose at him, as if he disgusted her, and it was all she could manage to try and hide it.
“You must be Emma McGovern,” the woman said, and held out a long, slender hand. “Dawn Maybanks. Nice to meet you.”
“Oh,” Emma said, standing.
“This is one of the Earl of St. Yve’s twin daughters, and lady of the enchanted castle.”
“You live here, then. In this place?” Emma asked, trying to keep the disbelief from her voice.
Dawn looked around her and smiled. “Yes, most of the time.” She picked up the crystal off the mat. “Trying to teach her the arts?” she asked, casually. But Emma could see there was nothing casual about this feline.
“We’re doing what we can,” Damien answered.
“It took you years to be able to master the control of an adept. Why do you think she’s any different?” Dawn said, gesturing toward Emma.
Emma stiffened and tried to stand taller.
“She has the essence,” Damien said. “It’s very strong.”
“I’m sure it is, but not strong enough.”
Damien sighed. “We’re working on our positive thinking. You might give it a try.”
Dawn looked surreptitiously around the room, then turned back to him and handed him a small bundle wrapped in an oilcloth.
Confusion lined Damien’s face as he took the bundle from her. “What’s this?”
“My father has issued orders for the vampire containment team to be deployed to Wolvesrain. You need to get there first and make sure there aren’t any vampires left for the team to bring back here. Is that clear?”
Damien stared at her, his eyes hard. Then he opened the bundle. Emma inhaled sharply at the variety of weapons in his hand. Two wooden stakes, two silver daggers, and what looked like some kind of gun.
“A UV vamp blaster?” Damien asked. “The last time I saw one of these, it was aimed at me by some relentless P-Cell operative. How did the Cadre get hold of this?”
“It doesn’t matter. I’m risking everything bringing these items to you. Now, do we have a deal?”
“I know you don’t agree with your father’s decision to entomb vampires beneath the castle, but this is a quite a bold step. The consequences if anyone finds out…” He shook his head.
Dawn smiled, but to Emma, the gesture appeared cold and calculating. Don’t trust her, Damien.
“Don’t worry about me, Damien. I know what I’m doing. In fact, you can think of it as a test if you want, of where your loyalties stand.”
“What is that supposed to mean?” Damien asked, his face wary.
“Who are you loyal to, Damien? Cara? The Cadre? Perhaps from what I saw when I walked in, it’s to this woman.” Dawn gestured toward Emma. “Or is it your brother? Something for both of you to think about, eh?” She turned and breezed out of the room.
Emma stared wide-eyed at Damien. “Brother? What was she talking about?”
“I didn’t think she knew. Didn’t think any of them knew,” Damien said under his breath as he picked up one of the ancient silver daggers.
“What does that mean?”
“It means there’s more going on here than meets the eye.”
“And?”
“And we’ll have to be extra careful.”
Anxiety twisted inside her. She stared down at the weapons, but somehow didn’t feel better. “Wood and metal?” she asked, pointing toward the stakes and knives.
He sighed. “Yes, and a hell of a lot more useful on vampires than that trinket around your neck.”
Damien felt the walls closing in around him as he dropped Emma’s necklace, and watched as it nestled between her breasts. He knew this didn’t bode well. Not for any of them, certainly not for Nicholai.
“What did Lady Dawn mean about not bringing any vampires back?” Emma asked.
“She doesn’t like them.”
“I gathered that. But really, Damien, who does?”
He looked down into her beautiful face, and knew he should tell her. Right then and there. She had a right to know who he was. What he was. The moment between them stretched, and though he knew he should, he didn’t.
He liked the way she looked up to him. She saw parts of him no one else could, because all they saw were the fangs and the bloodlust and the constant reminders that he was just a ticking time bomb who might someday explode. And then he’d do what they’d all expect—he’d kill.
Instead, he held up the crystal in his hand. “We capture demons in containment crystals, then we house them in the dungeons below. By the thousands.”
Emma gasped. “And vampires, too?”
“No. Vampires can’t be pulled into the stones. The Cadre incapacitates them, then buries them in tombs in the walls and floor.”
“Here? In this castle?” Emma’s voice grew shrill, as she looked around her, and he couldn’t help wincing at the horror on her face.
“Yes,” he said, his voice soft.
Emma shuddered.
“I’m afraid that’s how Lady Dawn feels, too.”
“I can understand that. What I can’t understand is why? Why keep them at all?”
“They use them as guinea pigs. Cadre scientists are constantly working, trying to find a cure to the vampire’s bite.” Damien swallowed his disgust, knowing that with one slip up, it could be him down there, entombed forever.
“Have they had any success?” Emma asked.
“No.”
“So, I take it Lady Dawn doesn’t agree with the process.”
“No, but not for the same reasons I don’t. She just wants them all dead.”
“And you?”
“The Cadre policy of not harming is hypocritical. This place has become a para torture chamber.”
Emma rubbed her arms, and looked around her, suddenly, looking very small and skittish. “Damien. I know I’m not done with my training, but I don’t feel comfortable here. I didn’t before, but now…now I feel like I’m ready to jump out of my skin. Do you mind? Can we go back to Wolvesrain?”
“It wouldn’t be wise. Not now. Not yet.”
“But—”
“Sit,” he commanded, and sat back on the mat, then held out his hands to her. Reluctantly, she sat across from him and placed her hands in his. He closed his eyes, and walked her through the mediation process, talking her into a calm state, showing her how to control her emotions, her reactions. But he didn’t do it for her, he did it for him.
He needed to block out her lovely face, the vulnerability swimming in her eyes, her need for him to be there for her. He knew enough about demon possession to understand that if Emma became a host for Asmos, her mind couldn’t take the evil, the rage. Like Cara, she would be lost. And if she didn’t learn everything he had to teach her, she wouldn’t be able to withstand the seduction. The temptation of Asmos and the curse.
Hell, he wasn’t even sure he’d be able to.
His most prudent course of action would be to take the weapons Dawn offered and go back on his own. The real questions was, why would Dawn go against the Cadre, against her father? Giving him weapons, giving him an order to kill vampires went against everything the Cadre believed in. Was she setting a trap? Trying to prove to them that he couldn’t be trusted. That he was a born killer just as she’d always said?
He should leave the weapons there and walk out. But what of Emma? The two of them couldn’t take on a vampire clan alone. Especially a clan that his brother was a part of. He could leave them to the containment team. The Cadre would love to study and dissect a vampire that fed off demon blood. As tempting as it was, he couldn’t let that happen. He and his brother were fundamentally different on every level imaginable, but Nicholai was still his brother.
“Dammit,” Damien swore under his breath. Emma’s eyes popped open. He rose and turned away from her. Who was he kidding? He couldn’t do this alone. Hell, he didn’t even think he’d be able to pull this off if Cara were here. The thought of Cara, an empty shell lost to him forever, made his stomach clench.
“Damien?” Emma touched him lightly on the shoulder.
He turned around and stared at her. “You have to remember what happened to your mother,” he said through gritted teeth. “We can’t go back, we can’t do this until we know what we’re up against. We need to know what Asmos’s weaknesses are.” He grabbed her shoulders, wanting to shake some sense into her as her eyes grew large. “Tell me.”
“I can’t.” She tried to pull away, which made him hold on tighter. “Stop!” She jerked free from his grasp.
He rubbed his hands across his face. “I’m sorry. I—”
She stepped close to him and wrapped her arms around his chest. “It’s going to be okay,” she whispered, surprising him.
He stilled for a moment, not used to the intimacy of the hug, the unsolicited affection, the friendship in her touch. “I hope so.” He wrapped his arms around her and tightened the embrace.
“We have the weapons. We can manage,” she said.
He stared once more at the weapons on the floor, certain that if he took them, he would prove to the Cadre what Dawn had always said about him. That he couldn’t be trusted. That he might not be a killer yet, but it was just a matter of time. It was in his blood. It was who he was.
But if he didn’t take them? And Nicholai and his clan attacked again? He knew enough about Nicholai to know he wouldn’t stop ’til he got what he came for— Asmos’s essence through Emma’s blood.
He could get weapons anywhere, he even had a nice stash of his own, but for Nicholai he’d need something more, something stronger. He’d need P-Cell’s vamp blaster.
“What about my dad?” Emma asked.
“He’ll be fine here.”
“Should I tell him we’re going back?”
“If you come with me…” he couldn’t say the words.
She nodded her understanding, and that kept him from having to say the truth, that there was a good chance she wouldn’t survive the Equinox, and neither would he.
“He doesn’t want me to leave St. Yve,” she whispered.
“You don’t have to. You can stay here. Spend the next year or two training, learning. Go back when you’re ready. Asmos isn’t going anywhere.”
“And put my life on hold?”
He nodded, and swallowed the large lump in his throat.
“I feel like I’ve lived my whole life on hold. Waiting for something. Waiting for someone like you. I can’t choose when or how I’m going to die, but I can choose whether or not to love.” She looked up into his eyes.
He pulled away from her. This was a huge mistake. He couldn’t let himself feel like this. Worse, he couldn’t let her get attached to him. It would be cruel. To them both. “I’m not what you think I am. I can’t be the one for you,” he said, his voice breaking.
“But you already are,” she insisted. “You feel what I feel. You understand me.” She turned away. “You don’t see a monster when you look at me.”
Her words and the pain behind them twisted at something inside him. Gently, he touched her shoulder and turned her around to face him. “You aren’t a monster. Nowhere near. You are beautiful.”
She looked up at him with tears swimming in her eyes. “I’ve never felt like this before. Is it real? These feelings? Or is it the Curse?”
“I don’t know,” he said, and stepped back, trying to distance himself from the vulnerability and trust shimmering in her eyes. “It doesn’t matter. Nothing matters right now, but capturing Asmos. Only then will we know what is real.”
“Nothing?” she asked, her lower lip trembling.
He had to stop this, before it went any farther. He touched her cheek. “Falling in love with me is not something you want to do, not now, not ever. Unfortunately, I can’t capture Asmos alone. And I can’t stay here any longer. What we’re going up against won’t be easy, but if you choose to come back with me, then I’ll meet you downstairs by the front door in twenty minutes.” He turned and walked from the room.
22-11-07, 07:09 PM
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