My Vampire and I (21 page)

 

"Oh, my God," I whispered. "Tony."

 

"The fool," d'Arcy snarled. I backed away from him as he reached for me. "Don't try anything as foolish, Roger," he hissed at me, grabbing my arm and pulling me towards him.

 

"I'm saving you for something very special." He flung me towards the door. "Follow Gregory," he barked. "You are powerless against me. Your lover cannot save you now."

I followed the reeking hulk that was Gregory down a long hall lit by marble sconces. My mind was numb with fear and grief. Tony. Dear God. I still couldn't believe what had happened, and Marcus, unable to get near me. I had really done it this time. What absolute fools Tony and I had been to ever attempt something like this. And now Tony was dead, and Andorra would probably never forgive me, not that it mattered. I was going to be dead too, very soon, by the looks of things.

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I wondered what 'very special' thing d'Arcy had in store for me. Whatever it was, I knew it was going to be extremely unpleasant. Oh, Marcus. Damn, but I didn't want it to end this way. If only I could see him again, before—

I stumbled into a huge drawing room where, standing by the fireplace was a familiar figure. Thomas!
"You
bastard
," I seethed. "Does Marcus know you're in here?"
"Of course." His smile was vicious. "Can you not hear him howling his rage outside?"
Outside?
"He's here?" I started to run for the door, but Thomas, in a flash, had me by the throat.

"No, Roger, I'm afraid you cannot see him. Nor will you ever again." His tongue scoured the side of my neck, and I shuddered with repugnance. He might be hot looking, but a creep's a creep, whatever the disguise.

"Yergh! Get off me, you fucking perv," I yelled at him.
He flushed with anger and slapped me across the face.
"Ow!" I kicked his shins hard.
He lifted me off the ground, his mouth gaped open, his fangs extended. Oh shit.
"Wait, Thomas." d'Arcy's rasping voice made my would-be blood drinker pause. "I think Marcus should witness this."

You see? Arrogance knows no bounds. He was going to bring Marcus in here.
That will be their undoing,
I thought, with a mental smirk.
Yes, bring him in, d'Arcy, and let's see what will happen to you—and you, Tommy boy!

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Thomas relaxed his hold on me, and I couldn't resist popping him one. I caught him on the edge of his jaw. Not a great punch but one that made him gasp with surprise.

"That's for the slap, shit head," I said, through clenched teeth.
His eyes blazed red with anger, and with a snarl, he grabbed me again, bringing his mouth to my throat.

"Thomas, stop! Not yet." D'Arcy was regarding me with some amusement as he pulled Thomas away from me. "You are quite the fighter, Roger. Your looks belie your ability. I had thought you weak, but it seems I was mistaken. How delightful. All the more fun for us, eh Thomas?" Thomas simply glared at me, licking his lips with what I guessed to be anticipation of my blood pouring into his mouth.
Jeez. Hurry up and let Marcus in.

"Take him upstairs," d'Arcy ordered. "Gregory, wait for my command, then open the door and bid them enter."
Yeah, Gregory, then run like hell.
Thomas dragged me up a winding staircase to a landing one floor up, one side of which was made entirely of glass.

Through it, I saw Marcus pacing about below, no doubt raging at his inability to help me. Thomas rapped on the glass, then as Marcus jerked his head upward, gave him a little wave and smile. God, I wanted to slap that smile off his face.

 

Then it dawned on me. They wanted Marcus to see whatever they were going to do to me but from outside the villa. They weren't going to let him in until it was all over.

"Marcus," I yelled, struggling like mad to free myself. His beautiful face was stricken with pain and horror. "Thomas, 204 My Vampire and I
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you don't want to do this. He'll hunt you down for the rest of your life. You know that, don't you?"
Thomas looked at me, hatred streaming from his eyes.
"You really thought you could take my place, you
peon
? When you are gone, he will forget you and come back to me."
"Are you crazy? Marcus will never forgive you. He'll kill you for this."
A flicker of doubt crossed his face.
"You know I'm right," I panted, still struggling. "Let me go, and he might forgive you. You don't want him as your enemy." His eyes shifted from mine to the window through which he saw his former lover staring up at him, silently beseeching him not to do this. Then I heard d'Arcy behind us. "Now, Thomas. Do it now so that Marcus can watch his sweet love die."

A cruel smile crossed Thomas's face. He ripped my shirt from my body then pulled me into his arms. His eyes locked on mine, and I felt my will dissolve.
He's hypnotising me,
I thought, unable to resist him. He placed his right thigh between my legs and began to rub rhythmically against my crotch. He wrapped my arms around his neck, then he kissed me on the mouth, a long, long passionate kiss, all for Marcus's benefit. I thought I heard Marcus screaming with pain below me, but that might have been my imagination.
Thomas moved his lips to my jugular, his sharp fangs viciously breaking the skin, then he began to suck the life out of me. For how long he drank from me, I have no recollection.

All I knew was that I was falling asleep, sinking into his arms, 205
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a limp and unresisting vessel from which he could satisfy his hunger and jealousy.
Just dimly, I heard some crashing sounds, a roaring, voices raised in anger, curses raining down on me. And then, I knew nothing at all.
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Chapter Seventeen

"Roger." From far away it seemed, I heard Marcus calling me. I tried to answer, but no sound came from my lips.
"Roger, can you hear me. If you can, squeeze my hand."
With what took an almighty effort, I squeezed. It must have been a feeble attempt, for I heard his voice again.
"Roger?"
I tried again, harder this time. It must have registered for I heard a sigh of relief.

"Roger, my beloved. He drained almost all your blood, but a trace of it still remains. I can help you live, but my love, you will be changed. Do you understand?"

 

I squeezed his hand. I felt a drop of something warm and salty on my lips. His tears. Weakly, I licked at the moisture, and I heard him sob. Then another voice—a woman's voice said, "Quickly Marcus, you cannot delay if he is to live."

"Roger." His voice was but a whisper, close to my ear. "Is this what you want?"
I squeezed his hand again ... yes.

His lips caressed the wound where Thomas had bitten me, then I felt him drink what little blood remained in me. My body grew cold and heavy as my life began to ebb.
I'm dying,
I thought,
dying ... Marcus, please don't let me die. Please...

 

I tried to move, but could not, to struggle, to hold on to the last vestiges of my existence, but instead, everything slipped away from me, until all that was left, was darkness.

* * * *
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I stood on the edge of a high cliff, looking out across the dark sea, lit faintly by a pale and ghostly moon. Far below me, black waves surged against the rocks, the sound of their fury echoing up to me as I balanced precariously on the cliff edge.

All around was a stillness, as though every living thing had taken flight, and left me alone to face my fate, whatever it was to be. I tried to turn away, to retrace my footsteps away from the sheer drop in front of me, but I could not. There was no way back now, no deviation from the path fate had decreed was mine to follow. I opened my arms wide and looked upward into the pale face of the moon. It seemed to smile at me, a cold, sardonic smile. It knew I was dying, and it gave no comfort.

Death is, after all, unavoidable. It's that strange, enigmatic fate that awaits us all, one way or another. To die old and in one's bed is the ideal, but it's never really our decision. In other circumstances, it wouldn't have been my choice to die at the ripe young age of twenty-four. But I understood what Marcus had offered me—to die and yet to live, though in a vastly different form.

"Marcus," I whispered. "Are you somewhere near?"
His voice came again to me, gentle, calming. "Yes, my beloved, I am here. Come to me now. Trust me, my love. All will be well." I smiled and looked away from the moon's cold gaze.
"Take me then," I murmured. Launching myself from the edge, I fell headlong into the darkness of the abyss.
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* * * *

When I awoke from my death, it was immediately apparent to me that things had radically changed. I recognised the room. We were still in Andorra's villa, and in this bedroom, Marcus and I had made love just before Tony and I went on that foolhardy mission to kill d'Arcy and his sidekick, Gregory. But the room seemed different somehow—

enhanced perhaps? More brilliantly coloured, images sharper and clearer, everything strangely
nearer.
That was odd, but I'd work it out later. Now, I wanted to get up, walk about, test the new strength I felt coursing through my body.

"Lie still." He was standing on the other side of the room, yet his voice was like a murmur in my ear.
"Marcus..."

Instantly, he was sitting on the edge of the bed, his hand caressing my cheek. "How do you feel?" he asked. "I tried to make sure you would not be afraid."

"I wasn't really. You were with me."
His eyes searched mine. "Do you feel ... different?"
"I don't quite know yet."
"I mean, towards me." He lifted my hand to his lips, kissing it gently, his eyes never leaving my face.
"I don't understand," I murmured. "I love you. What in the world could change that?"
"Sometimes, in the course of the rebirth, there is a resentment towards the one who brings about the change.
You do not feel that?"
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"No." I brought his hand to my lips and slipping his thumb into my mouth, I winked at him. His smile made my heart leap with love for him. "I would be an ingrate to resent the one who saved my life," I said, rubbing his thumb over my lips. "Now, please kiss me, and tell me that you love me too." He did, on both counts. Then he helped me from the bed and let me walk about on my own. No doubt of it, my step was springier, my movements more fluid. "Wow," I said, happily. "Does this mean I can fly like you?"

"Not yet. Please don't go jumping off the balcony," he said chuckling.
His words reminded me. Tony. "Oh God, Tony..." I whispered, my mind racked with guilt.
"Hold on," Marcus said, striding towards the door and opening it wide. "You'd both better come in."

Andorra appeared in the doorway, looking serene and lovely as always, but the person behind her was the one who made me race forward and fling myself upon him.

"Tony! You're alive! What?" I gaped at him. "You can fly?"
"No," he laughed, holding me tight. "But Andorra can, thank God."
It was time for explanations, and I had a million questions about what had happened after Thomas had taken my blood. Thomas ... if he was not dead, he would pay for that.
"He is not dead," Marcus said. "He and d'Arcy escaped."
"And Gregory?"
"He's toast!" Tony said with considerable relish.
His arm around my waist, Marcus led me into the living room, where we all sat by the fireplace, and I listened to 210
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them recount the story of what had happened. Fortunately for Tony, Andorra witnessed his death-defying leap and was able to break his fall from the window, by leaping up to catch him before he splattered all over the gravel driveway.

 

"That gave us an edge," Tony explained. "I didn't need an invitation to enter d'Arcy's villa. Only problem was, I had fainted as I fell from the window. By the time I woke up, Thomas had already started to drain you."

Gregory, who'd been stationed at the door waiting for d'Arcy's orders to open it, was taken completely by surprise when Tony pushed it open, yelling for Marcus and Andorra to join him. Once inside, Andorra had set about beating the crap out of Gregory—and there was a lot of it—while Marcus bounded up the stairs to reach me.

"You should have seen him go, Roger," Tony said, his eyes shining with the memory of it. "He yelled at me to follow him, but he was like twenty steps ahead of me already. Thomas was in the throes of bloodlust, so busy sucking it all out of you, he didn't even hear what was going on. Man, was he surprised when Marcus tore him off you. He picked Thomas up like he was nothing, held him suspended off the ground, and stared into his eyes until Thomas quivered like a leaf.
Then he threw him down the stairs. He must have bounced two or three times on the way down, landing at the bottom on his head. He was lucky Marcus didn't snap him in two."

"Tony." Marcus looked suitably modest about his derring-do actions to save me, but I would have none of it.
"Thank you," I whispered, holding him close to me. "And d'Arcy?" I asked, turning to Tony.
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"He looked royally pissed that he had been beaten—again.

But he didn't hang around for the fallout. He just disappeared, leaving Thomas and Gregory to fend for themselves. Thomas, seeing he was outnumbered, and I think, scared to death of Marcus, flew off into the night. So that left poor old Greg, deserted by his cronies," Tony added, laughing.

"What happened to him?" I asked.
"I cut off his head," Andorra replied, with a smile.
"Which brings us to you, my beloved," Marcus said, taking my hand.
"Right, I must have been a mess."
"Man, I really thought you were a goner," Tony said, shaking his head. "You looked ... dead."

"Thomas had drained you almost completely," Marcus explained. "Your heart was merely trembling inside you, and I felt only the tiniest of pulse beats."

 

"Poor Marcus was in shock, seeing you this way," Andorra said, quietly. "For he knew you were going to require an enormous amount of blood to save you. More than he alone could give."