Memory of an Immortal Heart (Immortal Hearts) (17 page)

The
heat in Eva’s body felt miserably thwarted. And embarrassingly obvious. And all
the space of Union Station was much too small to contain the strange growing
cycle of Eva’s hunger where Brand Kade was concerned.

Get a
grip, Eva
, she told herself. It was just for a week. Surely
she could keep her hormones in check for a
week
.

Brand
flashed his teeth at Joshua, the gold embers in his gaze turning deadly. “I
tried. No dice. One room.
All
of us. Deal with it, cousin.”

Joshua
muttered, “I think I’d rather walk.”

As she
stepped through the door to the tiny cramped train cabin they would be sharing,
Eva’s stomach twisted painfully, her mouth filling with the acrid taste of
barely contained panic. Joshua moved past her down the hall.

There
was a window – a
large
window – but it was thick glass, and
the metal of the train pushed in around Eva like the walls of Rohe’s cell,
trying to cage her in.

Eva
hissed, freezing just inside the door – then came up against the warm
bulk of Brand’s chest.

“Eva.”
Brand’s arm began to circle around, containing her even further. Even though
she smelled his concern, even though Eva knew he was worried for her, she
couldn’t help it – she jerked away, trying to find space.

Brand
stilled. “Eva,” he repeated carefully. “What is it?”

This
cabin was dark, small, cramped, it was…

“I’m
fine,” she said, trying to keep the discomfort from her voice. Brand’s fingers
touched hers, and he tugged her back, toward his arms, but Eva resisted. “No. I
need to see.”

She
needed to see the room. To see the
space
. To remind herself that this
wasn’t her cell, and that Rohe wasn’t waiting for her, and that there was no
man from 113 across the wall.

Brand
stepped back. Eva forced herself to breathe.

The
cabin was small. There was a double-seat that could fold out into a small bed,
and – above that – a large flat pushed-up surface against the
ceiling…
a second bed
, Eva realized. Across from the double-seat sat an
armchair and a tiny bathroom.

Eva
raised her gaze to the window; it was night outside, but bright in the room. In
the reflection, her face was pale, drawn. There were shadows under her eyes.
Brand stood behind her. Even in the reflection, Brand’s eyes were deep
sapphire, filled with concern – but his expression was tinged with
wariness and – oddly enough – guilt. He was watching Eva as if
debating whether to close the distance between them.
He looks sad. And tired
.
And like he’s not quite sure of me
.

But Eva
wasn’t even sure of herself.

Eva
reached back and wrapped her fingers around Brand’s. “I’ll be okay. I just need
to sit by the window.”

Brand
nodded. As they sat in the double seat, Eva inhaled Brand’s scent into her
lungs and fixed her gaze on his reflection.

Brand
was little more than a stranger, but…he anchored her.

Eva
blinked awake. She didn’t know how long she had slept, but it was dark outside,
with the moon illuminating snowy plains beyond the window. The small cabin was
dim and warm, with Brand in the seat to her right. Joshua was gone; no one had
bothered pulling out the beds.

For
once, she hadn’t dreamt of Rohe.

Eva
turned her head to see Brand. He was sleeping, his large form still and quiet
beside her.
He’s going to have a sore neck.
His head was thrown back
against the seat, tilted in her direction. Eva wanted to nibble his exposed
throat, to follow the line of it down to his chest. She inhaled, drawing the
scent of Brand – citrus, sunlight, freedom – into her lungs.

When
Eva opened her eyes again, Brand was watching. Their gazes connected. Her heart
leapt.

“I
forgot. Did you get a chance to email your sister? At the hotel?” His voice was
deep and wonderfully sleep roughened. The texture of his words rubbed against
her skin; Eva wanting to bury her fingers into that voice – into the very
strength of him.

“Yes.”
She turned her body towards him. “Do you think we lost Rohe’s guards in
Chicago?”

Brand
reached out and traced the line of her lips with his thumb. “I hope so. I doubt
they would attack a train. In the States. It is different in Europe.” He let
his hand drop.

Eva’s
heart fell with his hand. She wanted him to touch her. She wanted to touch
him
.

She
remembered the reserve she had seen in Brand’s eyes earlier, the silent debate.

How
much do I really know about him?

An odd
sensation rose inside Eva, twisting her throat. “Do you have children?” She had
never slept with a man who had children. She hadn’t wanted to. If a man had
children, he had a family. But…that was with humans. On the other hand, many
Kaspian males – especially if they were older – had children by
human women. Eva wasn’t sure Brand was that old, but…

Brand’s
gaze flickered. “No.” 

The
word was unequivocal, and his tone set Eva back. “You don’t want them?”

“I want
them,” he replied. “But I want them when I’m ready. With my… Not before.”

“I
think you’re being unreasonable,” Eva forced herself to be practical. “There’s
no way you can control having children. Not truly.” A hot flush rose in her
cheeks. If
she
could have guaranteed control, her life would have been
much easier.

Brand
looked uncomfortable. “The Kaspians in my family are different.”

“Different
how?”

“Small
things.” Brand looked down at his hand, flicked his claws out, then back in.
“It’s easier for us to control the Change. Individual elements of our bodies.
Like growing our claws, or being…fertile…when we come. So choosing to have
children or not, for my brothers and I, has always been a conscious decision.
Except when we are with our…” Brand hesitated, then shrugged. “
Usually
it is a conscious decision.”

Eva
digested that. She hadn’t realized there were actual differences between the
Gens. Beyond wealth and age. Or the ability to withstand tranquilizers. “I wish
I had that decision.”

Brand
gave her an odd look. “You don’t? You know, human meds might not work, but when
you combine Kaspian birthrates with a good condom…”

Eva
flushed. “That’s not what I meant. I just – I wish I had your surety.”

Curious
gold sparks settled deep in Brand’s eyes. “Why?”

Eva was
silent, not saying anything. Finally, she shrugged. “My mother had children.”

“You
and your sister,” Brand prompted, settling back into the seat. Eva nodded.

“Yes.
But she used to have others. They died years ago, so we never knew them,
but…when Rainey and I were born, the Gens was…hopeful. We were two years apart,
and before that, there were only nine Kaspian in our Gens. Afterwards, eleven.
So the Resh didn’t want to let my mother go.
Ever
. The Gens thought,”
Eva snorted slightly, glancing down at the neckline of Brand’s dark shirt,
“that my mother had ‘gotten her fertility back.’”

A
pause. Eva looked up and saw that Brand’s face had stilled into a cold, hard
mask; her heart froze, then began to pound in her chest with a touch of
visceral fear as she remembered his blood tiger form: pure black, dark
bluish-gold stripes. The irises of his eyes burned red with rage, and yes he
had looked like a monster from a storybook.

That
dark red flickered with the gold in his eyes now. “I don’t think fertility goes
anywhere, Eva. It can’t leave, or come back. It just is.”

Eva
shivered and had the sense that she was treading carefully. “They always hoped
that Rainey and I would be like her. That we would prove…the same. So they
never wanted us to leave, either.”

“They
what, hoped to
breed
you?” The gold exploded beneath a tide of feral
red. “Is
that
what the Turner Gens hopes to do?”

“
No!
”
Eva stiffened in defensive fear – and fury. “They didn’t intend to do
anything at all! They just had these
hopes
.”

Hopes
that had frightened her, caged her all of her life.

Eva saw
the effort Brand used to force his temper back; his control was almost
frightening. The red flecks in his eyes died to an orange shimmer…which receded
to slim gold bands within the blue as he heaved a sigh and leaned back in the
seat. “I’m sorry, Evita. But I’ve seen cases like that, where Kaspian did that
to their own. We have so few numbers, and in those Gens – the insular
Gens – it
always
begins with ‘hope.’”

Eva
frowned at the way he said that word. “
Hope
isn’t always bad.” It was
what had helped her escape Rohe.

“In
this case, was hope doing you any good, Eva?” Brand countered, and Eva
grimaced, not willing to admit the truth. Not aloud. Because that wasn’t the
point she had been trying to make.

Change
the subject
. Eva picked through the multitude of questions
that had filled her mind, and came up with only one she was relatively sure of:
“Is Seth your Gens’s Resh?”

Brand
choked, making a strangled, amused sound, and Eva would have been pleased if
she hadn’t known he was laughing at her.

“
No
.
And I doubt Seth would appreciate you calling him that. Seth is our Sade.”

“Your
Watcher.” Her cousin Justin was the Turner Gens Watcher, third behind the Resh.

Brand
nodded. “Gaviros and Khael,” a shadow crossed Brand’s face, his amusement
fading, “act as our Resh.”

“
Both
of them?
Together?
There aren’t any challenges?” If the Turner Resh had
shared his power, there would have been challenges from everyone – and
the Resh would have been sure to kill his co-ruler. No matter that her Gens had
only nine members, there were some things that just weren’t shared.

“No.
And there won’t be any.” Brand’s expression turned dark. “Not in our family.”

“That
must be…nice.” But “
odd
” was what she thought.

Brand
paused, studying her as if debating how much to say. But she always had that
sense with him – that he was weighing his words. “Khael should be our
Resh,” he added, almost reluctantly, “but he was…injured. Gaviros keeps the
Gens steady, and operates the day-to-day security. Khael operates the rest. But
he can’t…” Brand shook his head, made a slashing gesture, sadness and
frustration on his face, “he doesn’t always tolerate being with others. He’s
not completely stable.”

“He was
injured,” Eva clarified, trying to understand. “He can’t fight?”

Brand’s
eyes flashed. “Khael is the best fighter I’ve ever known. Perhaps too good. His
problem is that he fights the things he shouldn’t. Physically, Khael’s fine.
No, he was injured when…”

Brand’s
words dwindled. He rubbed a hand over his jaw. And that quickly, Brand seemed
old. Alarmingly old.

And
haunted.

“Brand…”
Eva smoothed her fingers down his arm, stopped at his wrist.

Brand’s
smile was unhappy. “Some wounds you don’t recover from, Eva. And sometimes the
cures people come up with do worse damage. No matter if they think they’re
helping at the time, it only leads to pain.”

The
guilt in Brand’s eyes was deep. Endless. Frightening. She wanted to take it
from him.

“It’s
not your fault,” she whispered, not sure what she was trying to comfort him
over. Brand caught her fingers, and began to play with them. “Brand, whatever
it is, you can tell me. I know it wasn’t your fault.”

Of all
Kaspians, only two Gens were capable of recognizing and Marquing their mates,
of experiencing the mate bond. One of those Gens had been the Elisaie. The
other was Brand’s Gens – Kade Gens. That was the legacy of his parents.
Ashtoreth’s legacy. Nikandros’s legacy. Stronghold was built upon the very
sense of family that his parents’ bond had fostered.

Eva didn’t
even know the bond existed.

Brand
wanted her, but he couldn’t tell her. Not yet. When they reached Stronghold he
would
tell her, but until then… He shook his head.

He had
no good way to explain about Khael. “I took something from Khael once. Something
that was his. Something that didn’t belong to me.”

Her
eyes darkened in surprise. “What was it?”

“I
can’t give it back.”

Eva
drew back, but Brand held her fingers, unwilling to let her go, and slowly she
relaxed. “You don’t seem the sort of person to steal.”

“I’m
not all good, Evita,” Brand said dryly. She would realize that soon enough.

She met
his eyes, then looked away, swallowing. “Why did you take…whatever it was?”

“To
help him.”
Because I couldn’t let Khael die. Because I couldn’t watch him
kill himself.