The Mark of the Vampire Queen (34 page)

“It's a matter of life and death. Of my lady.” He was propelling her down the hallway even as he said it. Debra caught his arm, bringing him to a halt with firm resistance.

“Oh, my God. That's why you were asking that day…Oh, God. I wish…But of course she wouldn't have allowed you to…How far along is she?”

“Based on the description you gave me that day, she entered Stage Four about three or four hours ago.” He hesitated. “She had an attack a few moments ago, the type of mood swing you said would come shortly before the next physical episode. Lord Mason's working on getting her out of there after her dance. This evening”—he clenched his teeth, made himself say it—“when I was dressing her, I noticed she had a small series of blemishes just at the top of her buttock. When I rubbed my fingers over them, the skin came off. She hasn't noticed any pain yet, so I didn't tell her.” At Debra's incredulous look, he shook his head. “It's a long story. She had to make it to the Court meeting. Telling her wouldn't have changed her mind on that.”

She paled, and now she grabbed his hand, hurrying with him. “You're right; we need to tell them now. She could have less than a few hours. We can't lose Lady Lyssa.”

He cursed himself, even knowing he could have done nothing differently. “Tell me how the cure works while we're moving.”

She stopped abruptly then, losing even more color on her face. When she looked up at him, her eyes reflected a pain he didn't understand. When she told him how the cure worked, he did. But he captured her hand, pulling her in motion again.

Lord Mason might be the only one capable of protecting Lyssa from other vampires. He could even love and care for her.

But Jacob now knew only her servant could save her life.

M
ASON
paid court to Lyssa, ignoring any attempts by anyone else to speak to him. When the dance was over, he offered her his arm and escorted her to a quiet and secluded spot on the far end of the outside verandah. Moonlight provided a spectacular view of the ocean. When she leaned against the rail, he casually pressed against her back, looping an arm around her waist to give her body his support if she needed it.

“When did you last feed?”

“A few hours ago.” She looked out over the rail, her gaze coursing over the view.

“The boy is very devoted to you.”

“I've learned many things about Jacob. Enough to know he's not a boy. I was blessed to have him come into my life at this point.” Lyssa laid her head back on his shoulder. “I guess we'll be fueling the gossips, you and me. Where have you been, Mason? You've been missed.”

“Only by you. The rest just miss my influence and wealth.”

“Well it's hard to miss you for your charming and affectionate nature.”

He smiled, ran his knuckles along her cheek. “You break my heart, dearest.”

She tilted her face up at the tone of his voice, and saw the pain in his eyes. “You know.”

“Thanks to Thomas. And to the delicacy of this beautiful face of yours.” At her alarmed look, he shook his head. “No one else would see it. I just know you. I can tell something is draining your strength.”

Shaking her head, she turned her face into his large palm. “I don't know what to say. I'm grateful, Mason.”

“Oh, bollocks on that,” he murmured. “How will I get along in a world that doesn't contain Lady Elyssa Wentworth? The only woman who can terrify me with nothing more than the sound of her voice.”

“The only woman who's ever beaten you in a fair fight.”

“Now, I wouldn't say that. I was in a weakened condition. Wallowing in misery and trying to poison myself with alcohol. You knocked me around and told me to stop feeling sorry for myself.”

She reached up, touched his jaw. “You didn't have to come.”

“I know that. But I have very few people I love, my lady. God has made my heart extremely stingy in that regard. You are one of them. And the boy you consider a capable man is still human and very outnumbered here.”

She shook her head again. “Your heart isn't stingy. If anything, it's too tender. I saw one like you less than a month ago. A mortal. Jacob's brother. Eaten up by his hatred and grief, his guilt. You men of honor. Such foolish creatures you are.”

“We are. But it's unforgettable women such as yourself who destroy us with your loss.” He paused. “He took the third mark, even knowing.”

“He did.” She looked away, out into the gardens. “He insisted and I…couldn't deny him.”

“Good.” At her surprised look, Mason shrugged. “He's yours entirely, body, heart and soul. You'd break him only if you left him behind. Trust me.” His amber eyes flickered. “I know.”

Tears welled in her eyes and she hastily blinked them back as Mason gallantly pretended not to see, though his hand rose and lay on her nape. His thumb stroked her there, following the strands of her hair over her shoulder.

“It's funny,” she said quietly at last. “Before Jacob, I was ready to die. Had accepted it. These past two years…the awfulness that Rex became. Thomas's loss…When I found out I was sick, it didn't bother me so much, not from a personal standpoint. But then Jacob came, and he's like something I've been seeking my entire life. Now that I've found him, I just want more. More time. How greedy is that? To have been given so much time and want more?”

“When you find the right love, eternity isn't long enough.”

“Lady Lyssa?”

Lyssa straightened and turned with Mason. Brian stood a respectful distance from them.

“There you are.” She cleared her throat, attempting a lighter tone. “I'd intended to grace you with tonight's dance and had to settle for this scoundrel who didn't have the courtesy to arrive on time. I'm not even sure he has an invitation.”

Brian looked between them, something obviously filling his mind to the point he couldn't quite comprehend the banter.

“It would have been my honor to dance with you, my lady,” he said at last. “But…I apologize. Lord Belizar and the others have convened in the Council chambers on an important matter and need your attendance most urgently. Lord Mason, they asked if you could attend as well.”

“It's a long walk to those chambers in high heels,” Mason observed. “Perhaps a chair could be arranged…”

“I can walk,” Lyssa said.

“Certainly,” Brian said at the same time. He gave a low bow to her, an apology for the interruption. “We've already arranged for it.”

Even now a traveling chair was being brought onto the verandah via the stairs by a quartet of the naked and masked servants. Seeing them reminded her of a group of executioners, their faces hidden. When they came to a halt, they blocked the stairs.

“I've not lived this long by being stupid, or unaware.” When Mason reached out a hand to her, Lyssa stepped back to the balcony rail.

Jacob, where are you?
She struggled with the effort to hold back her panic when her attempt to establish the mind link was met with a black fog of confusion. The holes in her shields were so frequent now she barely expended the effort to keep his mind out of hers except when absolutely necessary, perhaps because she didn't want to know when she completely lost the ability to do it. Like a person going deaf, wondering why everyone was mumbling.

She hadn't questioned her decision to permit him full access to her thoughts during the last several weeks. Or why more and more she preferred to hear him speak aloud in addition to thinking thoughts when he was at a distance. It had increased the strength of her reception. Now, she could hear him only like a murmur of static through a cell phone, devices she'd always disliked intensely and never needed. She strained to bring that voice in focus. Knowing he was talking to her, she nevertheless couldn't hear him clearly.

The panic that flooded her now was another wave of what she'd felt at the ocean when Jacob was hurt. Brian and Mason had moved a step forward, as if they were closing in on her like she was a wild animal. She could go over the rail, tumble to the ground, get away. If she didn't break a limb. If she did, she wouldn't have time to heal before they'd be on her.

You'd muss your dress, my lady. It's a beautiful dress, all the more so because you're in it.

She closed her eyes, her hands balling into fists at the effort of grasping that voice, holding on to it. Her temples started to pound. Nausea heaved in her stomach, and her skin was tingling along her back, a faint burn, something new in her category of symptoms.

Jacob, where are you?

There was a vocal reaction of surprise and affront in the gardens below. A breath later, Jacob finished scaling the trellis, a shorter distance from the ground than the winding stairs. He dropped lightly onto the tiles in bare feet, tux still in place. He was breathing hard, as if he'd come at a dead run from wherever he'd been.

“I am here, my lady. At your back, as always.”

Lyssa closed her hand on his forearm. His hand settled over hers, warm and reassuring. She wanted into his head. Still couldn't get there. “What's going on?”

“There's nothing for you to fear at all, my lady.” Jacob smiled at her, his pleasure genuine enough to make her draw a wary breath of reassurance. “Brian has good news to share with the Council. He's found the cure to the Delilah virus, and he can administer it to you here. He was testing the serum and so brought enough dosages.” Despite their audience, he cradled her face, tipping it up to his. “You'll be around to enchant men for as long as you wish.”

“You told them…” She swallowed, keeping the bile down with effort, though the headache was starting to make speech difficult.

“It was time, my lady. When I heard about the cure from Debra, I knew—”

“I can't hear you…inside me…I need…”

“I'm right here, my lady.” Without permission, he simply bent, lifting her in his arms. He shouldered past Brian and Lord Mason to the chair, gently setting her on it.

She held on to his neck, drawing his face close. “You are telling me true?”

“I told you I would never be false to you, my lady. Let's get to Council chambers and we can get it taken care of.”

“I will want to know how it works,” she said as they lifted her. “I won't have”—she let go of him to press her fingers to her temple as his brow creased in concern—“it resulting in warts…or my hair falling out. There are…worse things than being dead.”

“Yes, my lady,” he said, a ghost of a smile crossing his face as he urged the servants forward with their precious cargo. He exchanged a glance with Mason. The Middle Eastern vampire as well as Brian fell in behind them.

They got down the stairs well enough, but as they reached the bottom and rounded the corner to traverse the gardens, Jacob stopped abruptly. “Wait. Put her down. Now.”

Brian spoke the question behind him, but Jacob shouldered the vampire aside. Snatching up an ice bucket left on an outside table, he quickly dumped it and moved to his lady's side, blocking Mason and Brian's view with his broad back as she doubled over, a cry coming from her lips.

He held her hair out of the way as she vomited blood, but when she rocked forward on another spasm, her body contorted as if she'd been struck.

Pain exploded in his own body. Jacob staggered, the ability to breathe suddenly restricted, weakness overwhelming him. Mason leaped to his side as he dropped the bucket, stumbling to one knee. When his lady desperately reached out for him despite her own pain, he managed to lock his fingers around hers.

Mason was not quick enough with the bucket to keep her next expulsion from splattering the front of her dress. She vomited far more than Jacob had ever seen. When Brian eased her back, she had the pallor of a true corpse, something that would never be mistaken for a vampire despite the lore. Her limbs were shaking.

“Jacob.” The light in her eyes was crimson, her fangs lengthening.

“Take her quickly,” Brian snapped. The servants hesitated.

Though it felt as if he were ripping off a limb, Jacob extricated his fingers. His lady's face warred between panic and a Herculean effort to maintain her composure. The disease was taking away the control of a lifetime, both mentally and physically. It pained him as much as the symptoms to see her fighting such a battle with it.

“I'll make sure he's behind you every step of the way, my lady. Council chambers. Go.” Mason snarled the command. The servants bolted forward.

The next wave of pain knocked Jacob back to his knees.

“No. Jacob—” Lyssa cried out to him, struggling to get past Brian. He was holding her fast on the chair, moving with the servants, his expression grim. “I shouldn't have done this to you. Help him. Mason. Help…”

“I've got him, my lady. Be easy. We'll be right behind you.”

Mason knelt and got Jacob's arm over his shoulders, helping the other man to his feet.

“Hold the mind block between us as long as you can,” Jacob muttered. “We need to get her to Council chambers.”

“She may not want this,” Mason said under his breath as they moved after the chair. They could hear Brian reassuring her, glancing back often to confirm for her that they were there.

“She's not herself right now,” Jacob managed to keep an even tone, though it felt as if a baseball bat was being applied to his rib cage. He didn't want his lady feeling this kind of pain. “Let's save her life, then solicit her opinion.”

“She would say that's typical male thinking.”

“Lady Lyssa is a force of nature. A constellation. A guiding force. They need her. Bad things coming if she goes.” How many like his brother would die if Carnal and his kind took over? What would happen to servants like Debra or Devlin?

At the tightening of Mason's mouth, Jacob knew he understood. Just being with her for a handful of months and training with Thomas, Jacob knew her influence was felt far outside of her territory. Would the Council be able to maintain control of vampires like Carnal without her? Not just her power, which was considerable, but the power of example, the ideal they sought to emulate? So inspiring that for centuries the bulk of them had been willing to control their bloodlust to be like her, and the rest had been too afraid of her power to go against the Council.

“I've been successful keeping her out of your head only because she's not yet figured out it's not the disease separating you. If the episode she's having ebbs, she'll know. And tear a strip from my brain obliterating the shielding.”

“Then we need to get there quickly to preserve your sanity.”

“She's not going to agree to this.”

“She's not herself,” Jacob repeated and grunted. Mason slid his arm around his waist, taking more of his weight.

“If you're going to throw up, do let me know so I can move out of the way.”

“You…let my lady's blood ruin her dress. She'll consider it…equal payment. Christ, this hurts.” If this was anything like the agony his lady was suffering, he admired her all the more for not screaming.

“You…” He gripped Mason's coat at the shoulder, his hold strong and desperate enough to rip the seams. “I can do this. She needs me for this. But…she's so…lonely. I'm just…a human. She…You make sure; you swear to me…Take care of her. She may be a goddess, but she gets so lonely. Help her…Tend her roses. She likes company when she does that…or she gets sad. Stay with her. Don't go back to the desert. She needs…you.”

“Sssh…easy, boy. Come on.” Mason spoke gruffly, took most of Jacob's weight on his arm and broke into a trot to keep pace with Lyssa's entourage.