Authors: M.J. Scott

Shadow Kin (49 page)

BOOK: Shadow Kin

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Relief made me light-headed. I drew in a breath. “Good, we’re agreed. The question, then, is where and when we try to draw him out.”

Simon touched my arm. The need flared like an oilsoaked torch. The heat bit deep and so did the pain. I set my jaw, steeling myself to ignore its shrieking demands. So another question was how I could manage to do whatever it was we planned while coping with the need as well. It would only get worse from here. I’d pushed my tolerance too far. The cramps in my stomach were a steady dull pain now and my head throbbed.

I almost regretted not having time for Lucius to give me the blood. It might have been enough to—

“Lily ?” Simon’s voice drew me out of the reverie. “Is something wrong?”

“It’s nothing.” I inched away from him carefully, scared he would sense my pain. “Let’s get to work.”

Our planning was hasty, but thorough. Guy would organize for rumors of my whereabouts to spread. And find a suitable place for me to spend the night. The guest chambers we’d had previously were too small. Too difficult to fight in.

Simon would do the same job of ensuring that word spread at St. Giles, if it hadn’t already.

The details came together almost too easily and barely an hour had passed before Guy left, headed to do what needed to be done.

Which left me with nothing to do but wait. I wanted to stay out of sight as much as possible. For some reason the hidden ward, with all its additional protections, felt safer to me than the hospital or the Brother House. It was irrational; I knew but I needed my strength to fight the need. Even in the few hours our planning had taken, the pain had gotten worse. Based on experience, I had somewhere between twelve hours and a day before I was incapacitated.

But who knew if experience applied? This time I was withdrawing from a much larger dose of blood . . . I had no way of knowing if things would move faster or slower.

Lucius had to come tonight. Or the truth would come out.

In the meantime, I needed to be around as few people as possible, and the hidden ward seemed to be the best solution.

Even better if I could convince Simon to leave me down there for a bit. Having him so close was torturous. The need bit and so did the guilt that I hadn’t been honest with him. Still, maybe after tonight, if everything went right, there would be nothing to tell.

I almost sighed with relief as we passed through the last of the warded doors and greeted Atherton. I hadn’t been able to convince Simon to leave me alone, but at least he’d brought me here. I sank wearily onto a chair near one of the beds and stared at the bare walls, remembering the elegant leafy spaces of Simon’s home. Would I ever get to live somewhere with that sense of light and air rather than between stark stone walls designed to cage me in?

Or was this ward one of the last things I was ever going to see?

I drew my feet up on the chair, hugging my knees. Both to try to feel warm and because locking my hands around my knees hid the shakiness of my hands. I gritted my teeth. I needed to hold on. To resist. I had to be able to fight tonight.

Maybe I should ask Atherton for his blood? Though how I would get rid of Simon in order to achieve that end was beyond me.

As if to mock me, another pain struck, like a knife to my stomach. It rippled through my guts, then slid up my spine to burst through my head like a hammer blow. I sucked in a breath involuntarily, the noise very loud in the quiet room.

Simon broke off his conversation with Atherton and hurried over to me. His eyes narrowed as I lifted my head wearily to meet his gaze, the pain fading rapidly.

“You’re trembling.” He crouched down and touched my hand.

I dropped my gaze, pretending to watch what he was doing so I wouldn’t have to look at him. “Just nerves.”

“Is it?” His eyes searched my face as his hand moved to circle my wrist. “Why don’t I believe you?”

Hells. Was he using his healer senses on me? I tried to pull my arm free. “You don’t seem to want to believe anything I say today,” I countered. “If you were me, wouldn’t the fact that Lucius could come walking through a wall at any time during the night make you nervous?”

“Your pulse is racing. Your skin is hot. Are you sick?”

“I’ve never been sick in my life,” I said automatically. Then immediately regretted my words. If I wasn’t sick, then something else had to be causing the symptoms.

Simon rocked back on his heels. “There’s something you’re not telling me.”

I shook my head. But another pain struck—so close—too close—and I felt myself start to shadow, wanting to flee to the cool gray world where there was no pain. There perhaps I could make it until tonight. I forced myself back with an effort.

Simon was staring at me. “What was that? Tell me the truth, Lily.”

I hesitated, breath coming too fast. I couldn’t hide this more than another few hours. Not when it was moving so fast. Was it better to tell or be discovered? I knew what Simon think of me, knew how he felt about those who drank blood. But maybe . . . just maybe, he was better than that. Maybe I did matter to him. After all, would he be so angry at me if he didn’t care?

He said, hand still twining around my wrist as if he couldn’t quite let go, “Tell me. Or I’ll find out for myself.”

I stared at him, mind racing. A seemingly simple thing, the truth. But it could change everything. Did I want to see him draw away from me? Dealing with his anger now was bad enough. What would complete rejection be like?

What would it be like to go through the rest of my life knowing that he only cared because of a lie? The voice rose unasked in my head and my heart turned over.

I wanted someone to care for me. The real me. All of me. Even if I died tonight.

Only the truth could give me that, despite the risk.

“Is something wrong?” Atherton’s voice came from behind me.

I twisted around. His scarred face was hard to read. Had he heard Simon’s question? I knew his loyalty was to Simon, not to me. Would he tell if I didn’t? That could only make things a thousand times worse.

“That depends on Lily,” Simon said.

I turned back to him, studying him, committing his face to memory. Gold and blue concern. Concern for me. The face of someone who cared about me. Store the memory deep. In case I never saw such a thing again.

“It’s the blood,” I said softly, and heard Atherton suck in a breath behind me.

“Blood? What blood? Did Lucius do something to you?”

I couldn’t speak, couldn’t think what to say. I just looked at him. And saw the moment when he understood what I meant.

“Vampire blood?” He dropped my wrist as if it were suddenly on fire. “You drink vampire blood.” He stared at me, face twisting.

I nodded, dropped my feet to the floor, bracing myself for whatever was coming next. “It wasn’t my—”

“No,” Simon added, as if he couldn’t even hear me speaking. “Not just vampire blood. Lucius’ blood. You’re locked to him.”

“I’m not locked!” I protested, coming to my feet. “It doesn’t work that way.”

Simon stepped back, shaking his head, one hand held out as if to ward me off. “Doesn’t it? Look at you, you’re shaking. You’re
addicted
.” His face worked. “All this time, I’ve been trying to help you and you’re already beyond help. An addict. Just like—” He bit off the words, eyes blazing. “And that means . . . oh, gods and fucking suns.” He moved farther away from me. “You and him . . . you . . .”

I hadn’t expected it to hurt quite this much, seeing the expression of disgust on his face. Seeing the warmth die. “We didn’t have sex,” I said, trying to make him understand. “You know that.”

“But you—”

“The blood invokes pleasure,” Atherton interrupted in a cool voice. “It isn’t a choice on the part of the one receiving, Simon. I doubt Lily drank willingly.”

I was grateful for the defense though I doubted it would help my cause, given the source. “Exactly. I didn’t have a choice, Simon, don’t you see?”

“That’s what they all say. It wasn’t my fault. Gods. How does someone make you drink their blood?”

Anger burned away some of the sick feeling. If he was going to judge me, then he could hells-damned well judge me on the whole truth. I swallowed hard, reached for a calm voice as the memory rose in my head. “The first time he made me drink, he beat me half to death, then forced me to drink. Does that sound like a choice to you?”

Simon’s face was stone. “The
first
time. What about the others?”

“It doesn’t much matter after the first few times. All of which involved force.” After that, I had to admit, despite the humiliation and anger and self-disgust, I had gone willingly enough to Lucius every time I reached the point where the need drove me to it. “After that, it is, as you said, an addiction. One no one escapes. Hell, Simon, you’re a Master Healer and you haven’t found a cure. Can you blame me for failing in the same quest?”

“All this time, you’ve been needing his blood?” Simon said as if he hadn’t heard me. “
Thinking
about it. About him.”

“It doesn’t work that way,” I said. “The need is quiet for a period of time after you feed.”

“But then it starts to burn, doesn’t it? That’s what Atherton has always told me.” He cursed suddenly, low and vicious. “That’s why you suddenly threw yourself at me. You just wanted to someone to bed you, to keep it at bay.”

“No.” But my protest sounded weak even to my own ears.

Simon stared at me, eyes as distant as the sky they resembled.

“No,” I repeated. “Not entirely. What we have is outside that.”

“How can it be when you’re burning up for another man? Burning up for a goddamned insane Blood Lord. Burning for his blood. As you’ll always burn.”

“I don’t want it,” I cried, feeling my voice catch and thicken. I would not cry. Not in front of him. Not if he couldn’t understand this. “I
need
it. Believe me, there’s a difference.”

“Is that why you want to kill him? Because he did this to you?”

“Yes. Partly.”

“What’s the other part?”

I lifted my chin, met his scornful gaze with steel in my own eyes. “Because nobody is safe while he’s alive.”

“How can I believe that?” He closed his eyes briefly. “How can I believe anything you say? You’ve been lying to me all this time.”

“I didn’t lie. I just didn’t tell you.”

“You lied when you asked me to come to your bed.”

My hands curled into fists. Oh to shake sense into him. But I had nothing to defend me except words. Words I knew he wouldn’t listen to. Not while he was so angry. Maybe not ever. “It wasn’t a lie. I picked you. You were my choice for the first time. Doesn’t that mean anything to you? The one and only time it was my choice and I picked you!”

“Picked me to work off your bloodlust like any Nightseeking whore,” he snarled.

My mouth worked but no sound came out. There was no response. If that was what he really thought of me, then there was no point to this. I turned and walked away.

Chapter Twenty-one