Memory of an Immortal Heart (Immortal Hearts) (33 page)

He did
already.

She was
beautiful.

Later,
as they lay beside each other in the darkness of the tangled sheets, he
caressed his hand over the line of her hips, her spine. She shivered against
him as he pulled her back into his body, then reached a hand to tangle her
fingers into his hair, staring out across the quiet bedroom.

“I’m
sorry,” she murmured, sounding embarrassed, and almost puzzled. Her body was
hot against his own, her discomfort palpable. “About the blood. When I kissed
you. I didn’t mean to do that. I didn’t know I was
going
to do that. Did
you mind?”

Abrupt,
dark humor twisted through Brand, and refused to be contained. He snorted, and
then muffled his laughter against her smooth shoulder. And then, feeling the
tension of her body against his own, he leaned to kiss Eva’s nape, breathing
her sweet scent deep into himself.

For a
moment, Brand thought he saw the Changing mist lingering in the air from the
corner of his eye, but he knew that was wrong. He smiled.

“We’re
Kaspian, Eva. I’ve never minded a little blood.”

Eva
woke when Brand’s body heat slipped away from the bed beside her.

She
shifted, drowsily curling into the warmth of the sheets he had just vacated.
The bed dipped and a hand smoothed over her hair as Brand’s scent hovered, then
he moved away; Eva heard the soft pad of his feet as he crossed through the
dark bedroom. The door opened, and quietly closed behind him again.

Eva
closed her eyes. Time passed. She didn’t know how long she lay before the
coolness of the room settled around her like a chill reminder of winter
outside; she shivered, turning toward Brand’s steady warmth…then woke
completely as she realized that Brand
hadn’t come back
.

Eva sat
up, clutching the sheets around her; she strained her ears, listening to the
sounds of the rooms. The soft drip of water from the bathroom sink, the faint
whirr of the ceiling fan. The
tick
of the kitchen clock. The hum of the
refrigerator. The rattle of a heater. “Brand?”

Nothing.
An odd, dim sensation leached through Eva’s heart.

She
slid forward, pulling the rumpled sheet around herself as she stepped from the
bed and went out onto the upstairs loft. The large skylight illuminated Brand’s
desk so the rich wood gleamed with an icy sheen in the moonlight; stacks of
paperwork were piled around the room like snow. The air was cool as Eva moved
down the stairs to the main floor. She glanced into the kitchen as she breathed
in the apartment’s air, trying to separate out Brand’s unique scent – but
she already knew: Brand wasn’t in his suite.

An
unsettled feeling moved through Eva and lodged inside her chest. The fine hairs
prickled on her arms.

What
possible reason would he have to leave in the middle of the night?

Stay
, he
had told her.
Stay at Stronghold
. But he was the one who kept secrets.
He was the one who was never truly there. He was the one who left in the middle
of the night without saying why.

Eva
bared her teeth at the low-grade pain she felt; she rubbed her chest. “It’s
temporary,” she whispered into the darkness of the room.

It was
ridiculous that she had to keep telling herself that.

All
relationships were temporary.

But
somehow, Eva kept forgetting. With Brand, she
wanted
to forget.

Eva
growled and ran a hand through her hair as she stood in the empty living room.
Her frustration peaked, but she had no idea why. Except, Eva knew, Brand was
the cause of it.

She had
stayed too long. At Stronghold. With Brand.

In
Brand’s bed.

I was
with my high school boyfriend for two years
, she reminded herself.
Her boyfriend had been captain of the track team, and Eva – well, Eva
liked to run. After graduation, her boyfriend went to college in New York, and
Eva found a night clerk job.

Their
parting had been clean, polite.
Distant
, Eva realized now.

But her
boyfriend had been obsessed with becoming a lawyer, and Eva had needed someone
who
wasn’t
obsessed with her. Someone who didn’t ask questions, and who
didn’t care that the only things they did together were jogging and checking
each other’s Trig before class. And sex. Eva had needed someone self-obsessed
enough not to mess with her life, yet smart enough to always buy condoms.

Though,
Eva admitted, the sex hadn’t been good. Not at the beginning, and only marginal
at the end.

So
yeah, she’d been in a long-term relationship, but hadn’t developed any
attachments.

Yet
here she was after only a short time with Brand, acting all…attached.

Eva
snarled and turned away from that thought. What she felt didn’t matter. What
mattered was that Brand had left. Again. That he was keeping more secrets from
her than his age.

Maybe
he had work. Or maybe something happened. Maybe Seth had contacted Brand…or
Khael or Gaviros. But this was
Stronghold
. It was better guarded than
anything Eva had ever known, more closely watched than even Rohe’s Asylum. And
nothing, Eva knew, would be able to get past Gaviros’s ability. Brand had
convinced her of
that
.

Eva
turned; she barely realized what she was doing before she was back in the
bedroom, pulling Brand’s oversized sweatshirt over her head and slipping on her
jeans. The sweatshirt was thick and blue and fell to her thighs; Eva didn’t
bother to lace her sneakers as she shoved them on her feet and left the Brand’s
suite.

Her
feet automatically took her left down the tile floor of the hall. It was as if,
somewhere deep inside, she
knew
where Brand was. As if she could sense
him, with a half-formed instinct.

Eva
touched her heart, settled her fingers over the ache that had lodged there.
Then she pushed through the heavy wooden door at the end of the hall and
stepped into the library on the Nave’s second floor. She ghosted past the
exercise room, her feet soundless on the hardwood floor as she crossed beneath
the large watchful portraits that lined the wall; the back stairs spiraled down
to the kitchen.

The
stairway’s door was cracked a hand’s width, light slanting through to flare in
Eva’s eyes. There was the sound of a chair being pushed back and Eva saw a
shadow move across the span of door; Brand’s scent caught her nose. Her heart
jumped even as she moved forward to push the door open. Then another, darker
scent seized her attention, and she stilled.

“…a
Sakai named Rohe,” Khael rumbled, his voice a deep, near-growl behind the door.
“She possesses a Strategoi.”

A
shudder ran down Eva’s spine.
Rohe
. They were talking about Rohe. And
the Strategoi.

“Strategois
are the weapon of the Courts,” a female voice said. The woman almost sounded
like Nikandria, but there was an odd twisting accent to her words; she spoke
precisely, deliberately, as if each word might have a different meaning, and
must be weighed carefully. “The final shield before the Lord. Or, sometimes,
they act as the Lord’s blade against the world. A Strategoi would not leave his
true master. Strategois are loyal. They are always loyal.”

“And
the name Rohe? You have heard it before.” Brand stated. There was a careful
note to his voice, as if he expected to be misunderstood. Eva touched the
doorframe; she could almost imagine the frown on his face as he addressed…
whoever
it was.

“A
child. Kaine’s Summerbourne child.” A shrug implied in the woman’s voice. “Or
so they claim. It is unlikely, but he has never bothered to deny her. He is old
and finds her play amusing.”

“Is she
dangerous?” the worry in Brand’s voice was palpable.

The
unknown woman hissed softly, as if with amusement. Derision entered her tone.
“She is a child.” A pause. “Nevertheless, a child of the Shadowlines. She has
always sought to become named heir to Kaine’s Court. But he would not choose
her. He will never choose her. Rohe Nightchild is too greedy, too hungry.”
Musingly, “She is a viper of the Courts. Nikandros wished to sever her head
once, but I told him that
that
action was not his to take.”

“Is
Rohe a danger to Stronghold?” Eva listened as Khael rephrased Brand’s question;
this time there was a longer pause before the woman responded, her voice
turning sharp, clear.

“
Yes
.”

The
pure knowing in that single word sent a cold lance through Eva’s heart. Her
fingers clenched on the ornately carved paneling.

Brand
cursed, Khael growled. Then they both spoke, but Eva couldn’t understand the
language they were using. Instead, Eva leaned against the door and slowly inhaled
the still air of the stairwell into her lungs as she fought to calm the sharp
fear that had risen in her at the mention of Rohe. Her heart pounded.

This
woman – whoever she was – spoke as if she
knew
Rohe. As if
they were acquainted.

As if
they had met.

This
woman called Rohe a
child
.

Eva
shuddered. She remembered the look in Rohe’s eyes…the coldness that lurked
beneath that almost-human warmth, the emptiness of Rohe’s breathtaking smile.

Rohe
was no child. She was a monster.

Brand’s
voice dipped, sharpening as Khael spoke in that unfamiliar language. There was
a lull in their conversation, the sound of footsteps moving over the kitchen
floor. Something smooth and hard slid along the table, before settling with a
definitive snap.
A glass?

The
faint scrape of steel.

“Where
is your bone blade? Bréanainn, I have told you. You must always carry your
father’s blade.”

“It is
in my quarters,” Brand said quietly, and then came the horrifying – and
oh so familiar – gliding scrape of knife on flesh.

Eva
lurched against the wall, caught in memories of Rohe. Of the table, of the
room. Of Rohe counting time with knives, sliding those blades through her arms,
her arteries,
…a nexus of vessels, Rohe said, the warmth glittering in her
gaze so that Eva’s stomach churned with terror and the nausea of suspense. She
knew
what came next. I will not cut too deep, Rohe whispered, brushing Eva’s face as
if she were a lover or a family member or one of her Gens, for I do not wish
you to bleed too fast, little beast. You are delicious but I want you alive
– for now…

The
thick scent of Brand’s blood filled the air, snapping Eva back like a lifeline.
But it was too much blood, the smell too thick, too deep. Eva’s nausea lurched.

She
snarled, no longer caring about hiding as her stomach clenched at the scent, at
the idea of Brand
bleeding
. She pushed through the door, forcing her way
into the kitchen.

And
immediately ran into the bulk of Khael. Eva looked up, directly into the eyes
of Brand’s brother.

Gold
flickered in those blue depths – so like Brand’s but not – as Khael
stepped aside. There was nothing discernable in his face, nothing readable at
all. And Eva knew that Khael had been aware of her there the entire time.

Eva
looked past to where Brand stood.

Her
stomach twisted. “
Brand
.” She took a step toward the table,
horrified…then stilled as she became aware of the rest of the room. Brand’s
eyes had locked to hers, but Eva barely noted his resignation as she tried to
absorb what he was doing.

He was
barefoot and wearing the jeans he had earlier that night. He had pulled on a
dark gray t-shirt, but that wasn’t what riveted Eva. What held her gaze was the
knife in Brand’s hand. Blood stained the edge of the pale blade. His right arm
was lowered, his broad palm cupped above a glass on the table. Thick red blood
coursed across the muscular gold of his flesh from the slash in his forearm,
then over his strong wrist to pool into his palm; his hand was tilted just
enough to pour the blood inside into the cup beneath on the polished wooden
table.

Eva
hissed air into her lungs; it was thick, too thick, with the tangy sweet
blood-scent of warmth, of sunlit leaves, of freedom and heat. Of
Brand
.
She felt sick and hungry at the same time.

“Eva,”
Brand said. She shook her head.

She
watched that cup fill, just stared as she felt Brand’s eyes locked on her. The
hand pouring the blood tightened as the cut began to clot; Brand emptied the
rest of the contents into the cup. Then he picked up a damp black cloth from
the table beside him, ran it over the cut, and carefully cleaned the blood
away.

As if
it were nothing. As if slashing open his own flesh was a
normal
thing to
do.

Khael
grasped Brand’s arm and frowned at it. He growled something in a language Eva
didn’t know, sounding angry. Then he gripped Brand’s forearm, pinching the
flesh back together, and Eva’s breath caught again in amazement as she watched
the cut disappear.