Shadow of the Vampire (27 page)

         
"Then why bother entertaining this infatuation? I mean, I realize you had to pretend to cozy up to the bitch to stay alive in there, act like you liked her, but come off it. You're home now--"

         
"It wasn't an act," he shouted, cutting her off. He closed his eyes and tipped his head back to the ceiling as if asking for strength from above. "I love her, all right. Is that what you wanted to hear?" He lowered his gaze back to her. "Does that make you happy?"

         
The air whooshed out of Tallon. Every cocky, righteous and noble idea in her fled. Her brother, her King, had pulled a Romeo and fallen in love with the enemy. She stared at him with what she knew was a blank, wordless look. At the heartache in his eyes, the sister in her came out and took over. "Declan, you can't be serious. It's this mission, the stress of your capture and torture at the hands of the same people who killed Mom and Dad. You can't really love that monster."

         
"She's no more a monster than you or I," he said in a low, even voice. "We are all killers. That is what this war has done to us."

         
Tallon placed a hand on her forehead, searching her mind for something, anything to make this madness end, to get her brother back. "Send her home and rest, then. Give yourself time, space to get your thoughts back."

         
Placing his hands on his hips, he took a deep breath and set a resolute gaze on her. "The vampires, Lotharus, he sent terms. What are they?"

         
"Brother, rest. I beg you...."

         
He stepped up to her, his face contorted in anger. "Damn you, you'll tell me. As your King, I demand it!"

         
Tallon battled back the hurt, the disbelief, and swallowed it down. "They will descend upon us in the thousands by sundown unless we give them the crystal."

         
"And Alexia?"

         
Tallon rolled her eyes. "For the love of..."

         
"Tal, what did they say about her?"

         
"What do you think? They want her to bring it back, of course." Crossing her arms tightly in front of her, she eyed her brother skeptically. "Where is it, anyway?"

         
He chewed on his thumb, barely sparing her a glance. "Safe."

         
"Enough with these puzzles and secrets, Dec," she said, shaking her head. "After that stunt you pulled with the bag, I need to see it."

         
Declan looked like a wounded puppy, effectively making her feel like she'd been mean enough to kick one.

         
Without another word, he stormed to his desk. Tallon watched in dismay as he lifted a small dagger from the top drawer and pointed it at his side, just under his ribs. Again that damned Romeo and Juliet tale sprang to her mind. "Declan, no," she shouted as he drove the weapon into his stomach.

         
Forgetting her anger, she ran to his side. "Gods, brother," she said on an exhale, wrapping her arm about his back. He shouldered her away, almost with enough force to send her to the ground. Tallon's jaw dropped as she watched him slam the bloodied blade on his desk and shove two fingers into the fresh wound.

         
Low, pained grunts gurgled out of him. Tallon fought the urge to be sick as she watched him probe deep. A curtain of sweat broke out on his skin and his face paled. Then, with a loud exhale, Declan yanked something from his body. Bracing a hand on his desk, he hung his head and took two deep breaths before standing upright once more.

         
Tallon's eyes narrowed, widening when he lifted the blood-smeared crystal in his hand. "Satisfied?"

         
Regret and self-loathing ate at her in equal measure. "Oh, gods," she sighed. "Declan, I'm..."

         
"Just get out," he said with an exhale. "Get out and tell everyone to prepare for battle."

         
THE RHYTHMIC SOUND of Declan's breathing echoed in the room. Alexia lay on her side, her gaze following every shadowed ridge, dip and curve of his powerful back, as if instilling them into her memory. Sighing, she closed her eyes and realized part of her was doing just that.

         
Words and images flashed behind her closed lids, making it impossible to keep them closed. Try as she might, she couldn't stop thinking...about every word she'd heard pass between Declan and his sister, about the scroll, the crystal, her mother and, most of all, Lotharus's plan.

         
Declan may be the King, he may be smart and brave and strong, but she'd trained with Lotharus, knew his strategy, knew he would never risk mounting an attack on the dragon mountain. With weather and sun complications, the mission was too risky to undertake. And Lotharus did not like to take risks. He liked things to go smoothly and easily and predictably. He never liked to get his hands dirty. Nothing was adding up; none of what Tallon said made sense.

         
"Okay, Alexia, think," she whispered. Lotharus wanted the crystal, needed it. But wouldn't he need the scroll, as well, or had he had it transcribed before the dragons had stolen it? What did it even say? Her gaze flitted to Declan's desk.

         
Easing the heavy fur coverlet off her legs, Alexia slid off the bed and padded to the other side of the room. Even with the heavy flannel shirt Declan had given her, the frigid air sent a chill down her spine. She wrapped her arms around herself and stepped closer to the desk. On top of it lay the scroll he'd spoken about with his sister. Beside it was the crystal.

         
Her heart thudded. Vividly, she recalled watching Declan pull it from his body. Recalled back further still to the night she'd met him. The night he'd first fed from her. She closed her eyes, seeing him arched above her. Remembered watching the wound close with her own eyes that night she'd caged him. He had hidden it within his body then. It had been her blood that had healed the wound, kept the crystal safe and undetected inside him.

         
Although she'd intended to read the scroll, the crystal called to her the moment she opened her eyes. She reached out, her hand closing around the cold ball. No larger than an apple, the stone weighed less than a pound, but its weight balanced her. Cupping it in her open palm, she stared at the rainbow beams of kaleidoscopic colors inside the crystal. Three circles surrounded one bright ring in its center. The power center. So clear in this low light the inside looked liquid. It amazed her that something so beautiful could cause such ugliness.

         
At the thought of Lotharus, anger and frustration seethed inside her. She curled her fingers over the crystal and brought her fist to her forehead. Her entire arm shook. Grabbing a breath, she pulled it deep, willing the anger to abate. However, the only thought running through her mind was to destroy the stone. Alexia pulled back her fist, wanting to pitch the thing against the mountain wall and shatter it and the tyranny it promised to a million pieces. But she stopped midswing.

         
Lotharus would never believe she'd destroyed it. A battle would happen anyway and their only bargaining chip would be lost.

         
Lowering her hand, she let her gaze slide to the bed. Declan still slept. His handsome face looked relaxed and peaceful. Waves of dark hair curled around the golden skin of his neck. The sheet slid past his hips, one leg slung out of the fabric, revealing every inch of his toned body. A body she knew she could never forget, never close her eyes late at night alone in her chamber and not see his image burning behind them.

         
Alone in the Queen's chamber.

         
A sob stuck in her throat at the thought of returning to the catacombs, to her duty. She swallowed it down. Yet, she'd mourned their relationship last night when she'd tried to tell Declan she had to return to her horde, her people. After all, it was her home, her future, her destiny. He may have chased away all coherent thought and reasoning last night with his kisses, but the fact remained the same.

         
She could not stay here. She couldn't abandon those who trusted her to Lotharus and whatever evil plan he had in store. No. In less than twenty-four hours she would ascend the throne and be Queen of the horde, the highest rank in command of the dragons' enemies. At least now she could hope the relationship Declan and she had forged offered a chance for a future filled with peace. She had to believe that. Had to believe they wouldn't end up on that catacomb rooftop again, only this time facing each other in a fight to the death.

         
"I love her."

         
Declan's words echoed in her ears. Each one wrapped around her heart before piercing it with barbed magnificence. The pure and utter sweetness of his admission turned sour before she had time to truly savor it. They had no future. Not in this world. No matter how much she wanted it. No matter how hard he tried to convince her otherwise. But perhaps if they worked together from their opposing thrones, as painful as it may be, they could create a future. A place where dragon and vampire coexisted. A world where her family wouldn't destroy the lives of those she loved and who loved her.

         
Goddess, did such a place even exist?

         
At once she thought of Davna Vremena, the utopian society that once existed and now lay immortalized in the pool of her grandmother's garden. She looked down at the crystal cupped in her hand. An image of the fountain of Diana, her palm open, waiting for something to be placed in it, flitted across her vision. Then her mother's words whispered through her mind.

         
"They had to fly over the mountain, across the river and beyond the sea. Far away where she couldn't touch them."

         
"Oh. My. Goddess." Alexia blinked down at the crystal in her hand. Although not the way Lotharus or the scrolls intended, she realized she just might hold in her hand the key to peace with the dragons. But there was only one person who knew for certain.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

         
A SLOW SMILE SPREAD across Declan's lips the instant he woke. Thoughts of Alexia, her soft sighs and even softer flesh, flicked through his mind. A low growl rumbled in his chest.

         
"Mmm, Alex," he murmured, his voice groggy. Stretching a hand behind him, he reached for her, hoping to have another sweet taste of her before the day began.

         
The flat of his palm hit cold sheets.

         
"Alexia?" Frowning, he slid his hand up and down the mattress, finding only expanse after expanse of bedding. Declan jackknifed up. Flipping to his hands and knees, his gaze frantically scoured the sheets. Empty.

         
The first thought blazing through his mind was that someone had taken her from him. Blinding fury quaked so hard through his entire body that his arms and legs shook. Tossing the blanket off, he stormed to his closet. Snatching the first article of clothing his hand hit, he pulled an ashen wool sweater over his head, followed by a pair of crumpled-up jeans from off the floor. Barefoot, he strode to the desk, taking up the scroll.

         
It was then reality slapped him like the coldhearted bitch she was.

         
The crystal.

         
Disbelieving, he put the scroll back down, his eyes flitting over the desk and floor.

         
It was gone.

         
She was gone.

         
It didn't take a genius to figure out where they both were. Declan's legs buckled, so he bent, bracing his hands on either side of the splintered wood desk. His chest blazed in pain so sharp and deep he almost couldn't breathe. Dropping his chin, he deeply inhaled and froze.

         
Although a mug half-full of day-old coffee, his bloody dagger, quills and inks lay spread out atop his desk, all his eyes could focus on were the hastily scratched words scrawled across the uppermost corner of the scroll.

         
"I love you, too...."

         
All the air left him in a whoosh. Disbelieving, he grasped the fragile paper in his hands, tearing the part with her handwritten message free. He pondered only for a moment that it was the first time he'd seen her handwriting. It was as delicate and lovely as her face.

         
That chasm opened up a well of possibilities, of how many things, nuances he had yet to discover about her. Things he wasn't certain he'd ever get the chance to know. Declan forced the thoughts back. Holding the paper in front of him, he read and reread until the words blurred.

         
She loved him.

         
She left him.

         
A howling sense of loneliness ripped through him. Part of his soul shredded, torn to bits like the fragments of the scroll littering his desk. Fisting the paper in his hands, he held his knuckles to his forehead and closed his eyes. At once images of Alexia bombarded his mind.