Love is Darkness (A Valerie Dearborn Novel) (42 page)

Valerie was angry. It was now or never and she was going to be free of him if it killed her. “The difference is that I
love
them. I would die for Jack and he would die for me. I won't do this anymore. You don't really need me anyway. This is some elaborate scheme to get into my…
blood
. It's nothing to do with me as a person, but as a toy for you, the novelty
empath
.”

He raised a finger as though he was going to urge her to be quiet, or make a point and wanted her attention. “Don't pretend to know my motivations. For you or the
Others
. I want them back. And I want you.”

“Whatever. Just let me go. Let me leave and live my life. If you did
actually
care for me then you wouldn't want me involved in this.”

“You want me to be unselfish? A vampire is selfishness. We kill so that we can survive, that is the ultimate selfishness.”

She changed the subject, looking for more arguments to try to convince him to leave her alone. “I won't be a vampire. I'd rather die. If you changed me I would kill myself at the first opportunity.”

Lucas chuckled humorlessly, “It is easy to be righteous when you speak of the unknown. You do not need to persuade me. You may go.”

“What's the catch?”

He smiled.
A genuine smile
that crinkled his eyes and made her think of him as the man he used to be instead of the blood spattered monster sitting on a throne before her.

“I don't need one. Go to Jack. Convince him of your love and the future you will have. When he decides to kill me, come back and beg me for his life. We need discuss nothing until then.”

“If he doesn't come after you, will you leave us alone? Let us be together?”

“You are so certain you belong with him? You have been drawn to me from the moment we met. You behave with me as though I am your lover, but that's done with now?”

He was cool and collected, talking to her matter of
factly
. This was a big deal, a breakup in fact. If he wanted her he should be pleading, shouting, trying to kiss her, geez,
something
to convince her beyond this calm conversation.

She swallowed heavily, not wanting to talk about her relationship with him. “I think you've done a good job putting yourself in my way, don't you? My mom dies from a vampire attack and while you deny it... I think you must have known. You showed up during...formative years. A golden monster
who
saved my life. Of course I’m drawn to you. But that’s not enough. Plus, you wouldn’t want anything to do with me if I was a normal girl.”

He raised an eyebrow in disagreement but said nothing in his defense.
I need to get out of here.

“Take me home.”

He stood up, looming over her in a way that made her heart pound faster. Frightened and excited at once.

“I’ve just saved your life.”

“Is that what we’re calling it? I think you put it in danger
—
 
at
best it’s a wash.”

He took a step closer and she backed up.

“I’ve secured my throne.”

“Kudos on that one.”

“Would you have missed me had I perished? Did you not think of all the things we might have done together if we had known what fate had in store for us?
The sex and passion.
Would we have even gone to the ball if we had known we might not have long to live?”

“That’s why they say hindsight is twenty-twenty.” She could barely get the words out. Focus, desire, the things she’d just said she wanted from him, he was giving her.

“Do you know how many children are born nine months after a
victory.
” It didn’t seem like a question. More like a fact, or, big swallow, like a declaration of intent.

I thought vampires couldn’t have kids—oh!
He wanted to bed her?
Now?
Here?

By the look on his face, she was thinking the answer was yes. Her breath stuttered in her lungs and she wanted to wrap her legs around him like a monkey.

She wanted to run. She wanted to stay. Her fight or flight response was all fucked up like the compass on a plane, unable to decide which way it’s going, right before it crashes into the ocean.

“That’s…um…an unusual pick up line, I was not aware of that. It makes sense I suppose.”
And even if it sucks you can totally practice on me.

 
Because he was a victor and she did feel like he had won. And he was charged after the battle, his body thrumming with lust for her. She could feel it, like an echo of her own.

“What do you feel for me? Is it just lust?”

He looked at her a little oddly, surprised maybe. “Just lust? You say it like lust is a paltry thing, like Cleopatra did not bring down empires because of lust or that fortunes have not been lost over the urgent necessity to make someone their own.”

His gaze burned into hers, words quiet and forceful. “You want me to feel more? You want a declaration?
Love?
I can tell you that I have wanted
nothing
more than you for hundreds upon hundreds of years, that I will kill anyone for you, anyone you can name. In me you have a shield, could have a lover, a friend and a confidant.”

His gaze dipped to her neck and it felt like her pulse jumped up to meet him, wanted to feel that hot press of fangs poised at the top of her skin, wanted to dwell in that moment of anticipation just before he would close his mouth, slipping those sharp points into her body.

Would he do it softly? Would it hurt? Or would it be quick and primal? Her nipples pebbled and she actually rubbed her neck, trying to dispel some of the want.

Hundreds upon hundreds of years
he said. That would be starring in some of her better fantasies for the rest of her life. But she didn’t need fantasies. Here was the real deal. And he was taking her to bed.

He wanted her. Like fiery ants marching across her skin, she could feel how much he wanted her. But, it was like he was waiting for some sign from her.

She crossed her arms, hunching her shoulders, trying to think past the desire for him. She closed her eyes to block him out.
Think.

“But you wouldn’t love me, right?” Man, she’d meant to sound tougher when she said that.
Instead of hopeful and desperate.
She waited for his answer, like she was standing on a ledge waiting for a small pebble to hit the bottom of the ravine.

It took forever.
 

She couldn’t wait any longer.

He’s Lucas. He’s a vampire. He doesn’t love. He fucks. He kills. He desires.

But she wanted it all. Could he love her? “What if you drank my blood?”

“If I drank your blood would I love you?” He covered his mouth with his hand, fingers pressed to his lips, looking away from her. “I will do what I can to make you happy.
Now.
Without that.”
He shook his head. The whole concept seemed so alien to him, like he wasn’t even sure he was pronouncing the word ‘happy’ correctly.

And a tiny part of her was getting angry. Why
wasn’t
he just taking her? He’d just conquered! He was a warrior! What was he waiting for? He knew his
affect
on her. All he had to do was touch her and he could have her.

But he wasn’t.

Another man who wants me, but only on their terms.

“Take me back to Jack.
To the hotel.”

He looked like she’d slapped him.

“To the hotel, I mean.”
Smooth, Val.

He gave her a searching look, like he was trying to read her mind. “I must change first. Come.”

Lucas held his hand out to her. It was covered in dried blood. But under
it,
was
him
, and his claim upon her was on such a fundamental level that it was deeper than desire, worse than lust.

Wasn’t that the rub?
That what she felt for him was…indefinable.
And he only felt lust. Was it like lusting after a handbag?
A car?

He tried to wrap it up in a pretty package, talking about Cleopatra and what not, but it boiled down to an itch he wanted her to scratch. And he had no interest in loving her, even if it they could have more.

What the fuck was she talking about? What ‘more’ could they have? The end game wasn’t the two of them with 2.5 kids and a dog that barked too much.

He could never give her the simple things that people used to measure a happy life.

A knife twisted in her gut.

His hand was still outstretched and she took it, ignored the fact that it was covered with blood, that by taking his hand the blood of others coated her too, pushed all that aside so she could touch him for just a little bit longer.

I need therapy.

He led her out of the room, down hallways, past people and guards, yet all she could think of was his hand surrounding hers. How he stood close to her, opened the occasional door for her and stood aside so she could enter first.

Guards stood outside his apartments, and he ushered them through.

“I’ll need blood.” She heard him say quietly and then the door closed behind them.

This was his bedroom.

It was weird. It smelled like him, the faintest hint of his cologne lingering in the air. And there was his bed. It was definitely king size and covered in a heavily embroidered duvet that looked stolen it from a museum.

He groaned and she whirled around. He was lifting his shirt to take it off, the wound open and seeping dark blood.

He really had almost died tonight. That vicious knowledge punched through her, a vision of Lucas disintegrating before her very eyes—she couldn’t even think about it.

Val took a step towards him. Screw the consequences or that it was just lust. She needed him in her, imagined her hand clasped around his shaft pressing him deep into her body. He’d pin her to the bed, grab her thigh, wrapping her leg around his waist as he sank home.

The tight breeches clung to his hips, riding low so that she could see the top of his hipbones, the muscles of his stomach and then his chest. The shirt came off and he tossed it aside, watching her.

Waiting for her to make the move.

That froze her. Why wasn’t he coming for her? She closed her eyes, straining to pick up on his emotions, trying to sort them out. It was like taking stones out of a bag, examine it then put it back, pick out another one and figure out what it was. She felt his desire, his triumph and the one that was the brightest: his restraint.