Blood Eternal (28 page)

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Authors: Marie Treanor

Tags: #General, #Romance, #Fiction, #Paranormal

BOOK: Blood Eternal
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He landed a few feet away from Saloman, haloed in a sparkling cloud of falling glass shards. More from instinct than thought, Saloman threw up another barrier over the window to prevent any further invasion. Not that Luk couldn’t pull that one down too when he felt like it. But Saloman could sense no other vampires. For whatever reason, Luk had come alone.
Fastidiously, Luk shook glass off the sleeves of his dark velvet jacket.
“What an unnecessarily spectacular entrance,” Saloman said by way of greeting. “You could just have knocked.”
“I was in too much of a hurry to see you,
cousin
.”
“I’m flattered,” Saloman said, strolling toward the cabinet on which stood a decanter and two glasses. He began to pour without taking his gaze from Luk. “You must have worked quite hard to find me.”
Luk appeared to consider. “No. I worked quite hard to find your Awakener. Imagine my elation when I tracked her here and discovered not only her presence but your signature enchantments all over the street. You have improved, Saloman. I might never even have noticed them, had I not been so focused on your Awakener.”
“Thank you,” Saloman said politely. He picked up the two glasses and proffered one to Luk. “What do you want with Elizabeth?”
Luk walked toward him without hurry. Every one of Saloman’s senses strained to catch the faintest chink in his cousin’s armor, the tiniest potential threat in every move he made. It was a risk, being so close, and they were both aware of it. But at this stage it was important to display no discomfort, to acknowledge no danger. To remember the past, the best and the worst of it, with no more than detachment.
Luk’s gaze was deliberately neutral as it met Saloman’s. Neutral, yet hard as agate. Under Saloman’s stare, the corner of Luk’s right eye twitched, almost as if he were trying to keep the madness in, hold back something that raged out of control inside him.
Luk raised his right hand and closed his fingers around the glass. Saloman released it, and Luk smiled brilliantly. “What do I want with Elizabeth? I want to kill her.”
Saloman lifted one eyebrow. “You are aware she is my Awakener, not yours?”
“If
you
kill her, you might just be strong enough to threaten me,” Luk said thoughtfully.
“I have no need to kill her,” Saloman returned.
Luk sneered. “Arrogance was ever your downfall, Saloman.”
Saloman raised his glass in a mocking toast. “And yet here I am.”
“And here am I.”
“Indeed. Too late for sanity, too early for strength. You know I have to kill you again, Luk.”
Luk laughed, a wild, almost unnatural sound. “I know you won’t. Guilt won’t let you. The past has weakened you, as it has strengthened me. You could have killed me easily in Turkey, before Istanbul, and you didn’t. Here I am again, alone, weaponless, vulnerable to the attack you’ll never make, drinking your wine, killing your whore.”
Saloman moved before he meant to, hurling his glass so close to Luk’s head that it made a whizzing noise on its way to the wall, where it smashed.
“You will not touch Eliz—”
“Pardon, Saloman?” Luk lashed out, grabbing Saloman by the hair. Saloman broke the hold with the force of his fist and his mind, but it was too late. One touch was enough. Pain seized his head like a jagged claw, squeezing with galloping intensity, paralyzing him. He could barely see Luk crashing against the wall beside the bloodred wine still trickling there from the broken glass. Saloman couldn’t reach Elizabeth to warn her; he couldn’t move to go after Luk.
I should have killed him quickly when I had the chance,
he thought in blind despair.
If he harms Elizabeth . . .
His cousin’s laughter echoed inside his head. Then his mind filled with Luk’s voice, so achingly familiar, so terrifyingly unfamiliar, adding to the excruciating pain and to the blinding fear and revulsion that now tore him into pieces.
I
will
touch Elizabeth. I will kill her, and you will watch. Elizabeth . . . come to Saloman. Come and see the pathetic power of your lover now.
 
Elizabeth woke to pain, terrible, gut-wrenching pain that she couldn’t even locate. Disoriented, she pushed herself up from the pillows, crying out, “Saloman!” Because the pain was his. Or at least some of it was—a physical one she could do nothing about and an emotional agony that seemed to tear her apart.
But more than that, something tugged at her, drawing her toward another frighteningly intense source of trouble: jumbled, dreadful, black with rage, jealousy, and weird, insubstantial longing. It appalled her, terrified her, and yet called to her. It even spoke her name.
Elizabeth . . . come to Saloman. Come and see the pathetic power of your lover now.
She threw herself out of bed, grabbing up the ivory silk robe that had been Saloman’s gift, and wrapping herself in it as she stumbled toward the door.
Hurry, Elizabeth,
said the voice, tugging harder. From instinctive fear she pulled back, realizing at last that whatever Saloman’s pain, the one inflicting it was compelling her in his direction. The last veils of sleep dropped away, removing the dreamlike torpor that had surrounded her, and with it the pain seemed to vanish.
Straining, she yanked herself back several steps, fighting the growing compulsion. The stake she always carried lay on the bedside table. “What’s this?” Saloman had said, apparently amused. “In case I get too rough?”
“In case you stop,” she’d said huskily.
Her legs began to shake with the effort of moving against the opposite pull. With a jerk, she flung her foot back one more pace, reached out and grabbed the stake, and then, with a sense of relief that was almost more terrifying than all the rest, gave in to the ever-increasing coercion, all but running to the bedroom door.
Good girl. Speed it up now.
She hid the stake inside her robe, drawing the tie belt tight to keep it in place, and ran along the hallway, rushing down the flight of stairs to the drawing room. It wasn’t
just
the irresistible force that drew her; she needed to be with Saloman, to ease his pain if she could. Fear couldn’t stop either compulsion.
She saw them from the doorway. Saloman stood with his back to her, rigid but upright. Luk—of course it was Luk—lay sprawled against the wall between the windows, incongruously smiling. His gaze was fixed on Saloman with vicious satisfaction. Something red stained the wall beside him. Blood? She hoped it was Luk’s blood.
“Elizabeth Silk, the Awakener,” Luk said aloud, his voice strong and mocking. “Saloman’s latest whore.” He laughed. “I see you don’t like that term either. I had hoped you wouldn’t make the same mistake as Tsigana—imagining you were any more to him. Don’t just stand there, girl. Come in; join the party.”
Elizabeth’s feet moved forward without her permission. Her heart thundered; she hung on desperately to her train of sensible thought and observation, tried to shut out the wild speculation that would reduce her to helplessness.
“So,” Luk said without moving, “you let him fuck you in the hope of eternal life?”
“I let him fuck me because I love him,” Elizabeth said clearly. Closer now, she could look at Saloman. His eyes closed as if at fresh pain rather than comfort at her words. What the hell was going on?
“Oh, you
love
him,” Luk mocked. “Tsigana did too, for a time. Such a waste,” he mourned. “He doesn’t love
you
, you know. He can’t.”
“I know,” Elizabeth whispered. “It doesn’t matter.”
Eat that, you supercilious bastard.
The expression on Luk’s face never changed; his gaze never flickered as it continued to hold Saloman’s like some bizarre staring contest. He didn’t appear to be picking up Elizabeth’s thoughts, although he still compelled her feet, drawing her slowly across the room toward him. Because, she realized suddenly, the bulk of his mind was preoccupied with Saloman. Inflicting the pain she’d felt when she first awoke?
“You don’t believe me, do you? Well, let’s have a rummage, see what we can find.”
A tortured groan was torn from Saloman’s lips.
“Stop it!” Elizabeth burst out. “What are you doing to him?”
“He hates this,” Luk confided. “Other beings fishing around in his mind. Frightened of it ever since childhood. His father, my revered and rather nasty uncle, was particularly good at it. Could tear secrets from a boy’s heart as easily as blinking, and destroy him with one good sneer. Saloman could never bear to be found wanting, but he always was. So by the age of eighteen he’d grown an almost unbreachable mind shield, hadn’t you, Saloman?”
Luk smiled and raised one hand toward the approaching Elizabeth. “No one gets in there now. Hasn’t for more than two thousand years. Except me. Help me up, Elizabeth Silk.” Elizabeth found herself bending from the waist and taking Luk’s cold proffered hand.
Luk’s smile broadened, perhaps at what he was reading in Saloman’s mind. “Oh, I see he gives you the odd tidbit—a little telepathic fillip to intensify sexual pleasure. Nothing of himself, though, nothing that makes him Saloman. He keeps his distance perfectly to avoid all that. It’s what drove Tsigana to seek other lovers, you know, that distance. It destroyed her as it would have destroyed you, Elizabeth, in the end. If I hadn’t been here to kill you first.”
Elizabeth’s body straightened, taking Luk’s almost crippling weight as he let her draw him to his feet. The bastard was actually using her to save his energy.
“You like the blood drink,” Luk observed, apparently pleased. “That’s good. It will pain Saloman more to see you die in pleasure given by me.”
Saloman jerked. “I won’t let you kill her.” It didn’t sound like him. It barely sounded at all. With an almighty effort that almost broke her heart, he took a staggering, trembling step forward.
It surprised Luk. The sudden convulsive squeeze on her wrist told her that. Although this might well prove a useful distraction, it had the unfortunate effect of forcing Luk to speed things up. Throwing one arm around Elizabeth, he jerked her against the side of his body so fast that she barely had time to withdraw the stake from her robe. At the same time his head seemed to jerk forward, almost as if he were throwing something at his cousin.
“So many pathetic fears, Saloman,” he said viciously. “No wonder you hide them.” As his head bent, the compulsion drained out of her. He controlled her physically now, or thought he did. Certainly, if Luk hadn’t been holding her, her trembling limbs would have collapsed. Gritting her teeth, she fought her own body’s weakness, refusing to give in to the fear.
She held her breath through her internal struggle, cringed at the first graze of his teeth. His incisors pierced her skin, and with the violation, rage finally came to her rescue. She could speak to Saloman.
Don’t worry. I’ve got him.
She laid the stake carefully against Luk’s back and pressed. At the same time, she summoned it all, every strength she’d ever acquired or been granted, every confidence in her own ever-increasing power. And every particle of hatred.
“I’m one of the very few beings on this earth who can kill you,” she said distinctly. “And I will.”
Luk paused on his first suck. Elizabeth ignored the throbbing pain. “Release Saloman. Release me.”
It hung on a knife edge. Elizabeth could almost feel him wondering whether he could drain her before she could drive the stake far enough into his heart. She wondered the same thing. But she was banking on Luk having used up a lot of energy in holding Saloman’s mind in torment, and in forcing her cooperation. He needed this over quickly now. There would be another day for Luk. He could only get stronger.
She drew in her breath to push. Luk detached his teeth from her skin and raised his head.
“Lively,” he observed.
Saloman rocked on his feet and righted himself. Now was the moment to kill, and she desired it with a strength that frightened her. But a wave of someone else’s pain hit her. Saloman’s. A tiny distraction, yet enough for Luk to throw her off. She stumbled backward, still holding the stake, and found herself in Saloman’s powerful arms.

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