Authors: Erin M. Leaf
“The demon would have destroyed you regardless, Alaric.” Gideon
crowded close to them. Alaric glared at him.
Why the hell had Gideon allowed
her to come here?
Gideon looked confused for a moment, but when he looked down, his
face blanched as he saw just how serious Hannah’s wounds were. “Oh God, no.” He
leaned over Hannah. He pushed Alaric’s hands away and touched her wounds. He stilled
when Hannah’s blood coated his palms. It was an unnatural color — red mixed
with black demon’s blood. “No.”
Alaric nodded grimly. “Yes.”
Hannah smiled tremulously at them. “I want you both to remember I
never meant to hurt anyone. Promise?” She coughed again. “I never meant to kill
him.”
“Kill the demon? That’s nothing to be guilty about, Hannah,”
Gideon said. His voice cracked in the middle of the sentence.
Gideon doesn’t understand.
Alaric knew she wasn’t talking about the demon. Unbidden, her
memories welled up into his mind. “Your father killed your mother, Hannah. You
did what was necessary to survive. You are not a monster.” He gripped her hands
as if he could convey his surety through pressure. To his dismay, she didn’t
have the strength to grip back. “
You
aren’t the monster.
He
was.”
Gideon looked confused. Alaric didn’t have the time to explain
what he’d seen through the consort bond.
She shook her head. “I am. I killed my father. I had no choice,
but I’m still a murderer.” Her gaze went to Gideon. “I’m so sorry,” she
whispered. “Forgive me?”
Gideon had gone completely still. “This is what you kept from me?
What you’ve been so worried about all these years?”
She licked her lips. “I didn’t want you to hate me. Please don’t
hate me.”
Gideon leaned over her and kissed her forehead. “There is nothing
to forgive. God has already absolved you, Hannah.” He shuddered over her still
form. “And I could never hate you, sweetheart.”
Gideon’s voice was quiet, but his body betrayed his pain. Alaric
knew from the bond that the ex-priest was hurting.
Hannah shuddered and Gideon sat up, clearly worried he was causing
her pain. Alaric could have told him she was beyond that, but he had the
feeling Gideon wouldn’t listen.
“I love you,” she murmured faintly, closing her eyes. Her fingers
went completely slack.
Alaric couldn’t tell if she meant him, or Gideon.
Not that it
matters. She has my heart. That is all that is important.
“I love you,
Hannah,” he said, unable to keep his voice from trembling.
She didn’t respond.
“No.” Gideon shook her. “Oh, God, no. Hannah, wake up!”
Alaric grabbed Gideon and held him tight, ignoring the grief that
ripped at his insides. Neither of them would be in pain for much longer.
“I was afraid of this.” Gideon sounded lost. “I told her it was
dangerous.” He looked up at Alaric with tear-filled eyes. “But I couldn’t stay
away, either. We could see you chained up. We were dreaming about you.”
Alaric’s heart had stopped beating a week ago from blood deprivation,
but Gideon’s words still hurt. “It doesn’t matter, Gideon. It won’t be long
before we die, too.” He forced his consort to look at him. His lover’s skin had
gone ashen, and not from grief. Gideon was already losing the battle with
mortality.
“You were worth it,” Gideon said harshly.
Alaric gritted his teeth. “I would die for you and Hannah, if I
could.” He coughed through the grief that clogged his throat. “Instead I will
die with you. I could ask for no sweeter end to the endless centuries of solitude.”
Gideon went still. “This is it, then?”
Alaric nodded. “Tell Hannah I loved her, when you meet her soul
again. Promise me you will tell her that.” He had to make Gideon understand.
He’d never expected to love again. Hannah’s sweet innocence had seduced him, as
had Gideon’s shining integrity. “I loved her as much as I love you.” The cold
at his core increased as his body slowly began to slump into rigor mortis. He’d
died a long time ago. His body would soon be ash.
Gideon shook his head, trying to pull away. “Tell her yourself.”
He gasped, face contorting. “You’re coming with me in death. With us,” he
corrected himself. “I won’t let you go, Alaric. Not when we’ve just found you.”
Alaric lost his grip on Gideon as his strength waned. “I am
destined for a different place than where you are going, my dear. I accept
that. I’ve killed, and I would do so again, a thousand times over, especially
if it would keep you and Hannah safe.” He felt himself grow cold. “I would do
anything for you,” he said with the last of his breath. “I would give up my
soul for you, if it hadn’t already been taken from me.”
“Alaric? No, don’t you let go!” Gideon gripped him tighter.
Alaric tried to smile, but he had no strength left. “Love…”
Gideon collapsed next to him. “I love you too. God help me, I love
you both.”
Chapter Ten
Hannah opened her eyes. Impossibly far above her head, cavorting
angels floated in and out of view. They were nude—their wings improbably tipped
with gold.
How can they fly with all that weight on their feathers?
She
blinked a few times, and her vision cleared, showing her more of the scene.
Oh,
she thought, relieved.
It’s a mural.
She wasn’t dead. She frowned.
Wait. I’m not dead?
“Hello, my dear,” Alaric murmured.
Hannah turned her head. The vampire sat next to her on the bed,
bright blue eyes swimming with emotion. She swallowed against the dryness in
her mouth, trying to get her voice to work. “What happened? Where am I?” Her
mind didn’t seem to want to wake up and make sense of things. Vague, confusing
images drifted through her brain: rocks and red eyes set against a grey cavern
wall. Fire. The rumbling of an earthquake.
He smiled wryly. “You died.”
She frowned. “What?”
He slid onto the bed and stretched out next to her. “We
all
died. You and me and Gideon.”
Hannah stared at him. She didn’t feel dead. In fact, she felt
better than she had in years.
“I would not lie to you, sweet Hannah,” Alaric said.
“This isn’t heaven.” She glanced around. The room was opulently
decorated. Antique furniture gleamed and plush silk carpets covered polished
hardwood floors. It looked like a palace. Scattered lamps around the room lit
the space with a warm glow. “Or hell.”
Alaric laughed. “No. It’s not. Because we’re all very much alive.
This is my home. Yours now, too.”
“I don’t understand.” There’d been a demon. Alaric had been
captured. She and Gideon had gone to try and free him. She remembered that
much.
“When you and Gideon worked together to banish the demon, parts of
the stone shattered and pierced your heart.” Alaric shook his head. “The shards
were coated in demon blood. It’s a deadly poison. Nothing is immune to it.”
Hannah vaguely remembered the cave. Finding Alaric chained up and
looking so grey and desiccated she couldn’t believe he was still alive. Her
frantic worry that both of the men she loved would die. “You’d been captured.
Brosius had you chained up.” She sucked in a breath as she remembered more. “My
God, the demon was made of rocks. How is that even possible?”
“Abaddon can animate any matter he wants. It makes him more
dangerous than your average hellspawn.”
She took a deep breath and continued. “Gideon and I had been
having horrible dreams about you.”
He nodded. “I figured as much. How else would you know where to
find me?” He tucked a stray hair behind her temple. The look on his face made
Hannah want to cry. It was loss, worry, and love, all mixed up together. He
looked more like a mortal man in that moment than she’d ever imagined he could.
“You and Gideon banished the demon. It had to go back to hell or
be destroyed.” Alaric smiled at her and ran a finger down her cheek. “I had no
idea you were a witch.”
Why does he think
that? He must have seen me with Gideon, even though he looked like a corpse
chained to the wall when we found him.
Hannah shook her head. “My mom taught me how to meditate. That’s
all it is. I’m not really a witch.” She bit her lip. “At least, I’m not sure if
I’m a witch.”
“You are. You have power, Hannah.” He drew her into his arms. “And
I’m incredibly grateful you do because otherwise that demon would still be
after us. You combined your strength with Gideon’s so he was able to put it
down.”
“I thought it was the scapular my mother gave me that helped him
the most,” she said into his shoulder. “It was my grandmother’s, and then my
mother’s.” Her voice caught. “And then mine.”
“Yes, it was useful, but only because it had been given energy
from several generations of witches.” He stroked her hair. “Your energy and love
gave it the most power, but you don’t need a charm to harness your talents. You
have strength and integrity. You’re a very powerful witch, Hannah.”
“Okay.” Her instincts told her he was right, and Hannah didn’t
want to argue. Not now. Not after all they’d been through. She just wished
Gideon were here, too. She let herself enjoy Alaric’s arms around her for a
moment, but then pulled away as a terrible thought suddenly pushed into her
head. “Where is Gideon? He isn’t dead, is he? You said we all died.”
“No, no. Don’t fret. He’s not dead,” Alaric said immediately,
hugging her again. “Not anymore.”
She refused to be soothed and wriggled away. “Where is he? He
should be here. With us.” She closed her eyes and concentrated, trying to
locate Gideon the same way she’d found Alaric. He said she didn’t need the
scapular, and she was trusting he was right.
As she narrowed her focus, she sensed the consort bond more
clearly.
Oh, it’s beautiful
. Alaric was a golden flame, burning in the
center of her heart. Gideon was there, too, but he felt cool. Like water.
Does
that make me air?
A giggle welled up, but she suppressed it. Now wasn’t the
time to have hysterics. “He’s alive. I can feel him,” she whispered.
“I said he was.” Alaric sighed. “He’s struggling. His body is
sound, but his emotions and mind are not in balance.”
“Struggling?” Hannah’s chest ached and she let her power focus
fade. Why would Gideon be upset? She could think of only one reason why he
wouldn’t be there when she woke up. “He knows about my father. He left because
of me.” Dread filled her.
“No!” Alaric cupped her face. “He left because he blames himself
for your death.” His blue eyes glittered with frustration. “It’s complicated.
He’ll come around.”
“But that doesn’t make any sense. I’m not dead.” Hannah gripped
the covers tightly. “I’m
not
dead.”
“No, you’re not,” Gideon said from the doorway.
Hannah jerked her head up. Across the room, Gideon stood
awkwardly, hands shoved in his jeans pockets. His hair was a mess and stubble
coated his jaw. Clearly he hadn’t slept in days. He looked amazing.
“It’s about time you came back,” Alaric said harshly, sliding out
of the bed.
Hannah had never heard Alaric sound so rattled. She gripped the
covers, trying to understand what was happening. The relief she felt made her
head spin.
Alaric stalked over to Gideon and grabbed him by the neck. “Idiot.”
Then he kissed him.
Hannah stared as Alaric ravished Gideon’s mouth.
God, they look
good like that.
Arousal began its familiar
slow burn in her body. When Alaric finally released Gideon, the ex-priest
wobbled on his feet.
“If you ever run off again, I’m not going to give you three days
to figure yourself out. I’m going to hunt you down and drag you back
immediately.” Alaric gave Gideon a little shake.
Gideon hunched his shoulders. “I’m sorry.”
“You’re an idiot,” Alaric said again.
Hannah was still stuck on what Alaric had said. “Wait. Three days?
I’ve been out for three days? Are you serious?”
Gideon walked over and sat down on the bed. “You were hurt very
badly.” He took her hand and held it in both of his. “Our bond with Alaric
healed your body, but your spirit needed a bit more time to figure out how to
come back to life.”
“Alaric said I was dead.” She frowned. “He said we were
all
dead.”
Gideon nodded. “We were.”
Hannah didn’t understand. “Then how are we here? Alive?” Her gaze
darted around the room. “I feel better than I have in a long time.”
Gideon shrugged. “God gave us a second chance.”
She stared at him.
Gideon doesn’t believe in God.
“What?”
“Our lover has had a bit of a revelation,” Alaric said, sitting
down beside Gideon. He grinned. “Death has a way of turning philosophical struggles
into meaningless trivia. Believe me, I know what I’m talking about.”
Gideon snorted. “Yeah. You could say that.”
All this was too much for Hannah to process. “You didn’t leave
because of me?”
“No! Of course not.” Gideon gathered her up and held her like she was
precious.
Hannah gripped his arms, afraid to let go. He smelled like coffee
and a bit like incense. He smelled like home.
“I knew your parents died right after you graduated from high
school, but I never suspected what really happened, Hannah,” he said into her
hair.
Hannah leaned back, looking away from his intense gaze. “My father
was an abusive man. He beat my mother—” She broke off, not wanting to
elaborate, but she knew she needed to explain. Gideon didn’t have Alaric’s
ability to see memories through their connection. The bond gave them emotions,
not information. She gripped Gideon’s hands and kept going. “And then a few
days after graduation, I came home and found him standing over her with a
bloody lamp in his hands. He’d killed her.” Tears rolled down her cheeks. “He
came at me when he saw me in the doorway. I think he just lost it because of
the guilt. Or maybe he snapped and I was a convenient target.” She shook her
head angrily. “No. If he felt guilt, he wouldn’t have hurt my mom.” She pulled
away and wiped at her face. “He came for me and he wouldn’t stop. He punched me
in the head, so I grabbed a book and threw it at him. I was hysterical.” She
swallowed thickly. “It hit him in the face just right, I guess. Or just wrong.”
Remembering that day made her want to vomit. “He fell. Blood poured from his
nose. He died almost instantly.” She looked at him, then at Alaric. “I killed
him.”
“No you didn’t.” Gideon kissed her temple. “Your father killed
himself
through his violent choices. You had to protect yourself.”
Hannah wanted to scream. He didn’t understand. “But I lied. Don’t
you see? I told the cops my mom killed him.” She scrubbed at her face, hating
that every time she thought about her father she started crying. “My mom didn’t
deserve that, to have people think that about her, but I was so afraid…” She
trailed off. “I didn’t know what to do.”
“You did the right thing, Hannah,” Alaric said, tucking himself in
against her back. “You were young, and alone. No one understands what that’s
like more than I do. I’m sure your mother would understand.”
Hannah drew a shaky breath as she fought to calm down. “You were very
young when you became a vampire, weren’t you?”
He nodded. “And I was alone. It was … challenging.” He looked
away, eyes unfocused. “I killed people. Innocent people.” He turned back to
her. “I had to come to terms with that and it wasn’t easy.”
She bit her lip, imagining how difficult it must have been for
him.
He’s been alone for five hundred
years. It’s amazing he’s not completely unstable
. She turned to Gideon. She’d
been afraid to tell him her horrible secret for the past three years. How could
a priest understand what she’d done? She’d murdered her own father.
“No. Stop that right now.” Gideon put a finger to her lips. “I
already told you, God forgives you.” He smiled. “And I don’t have to forgive
you, because I don’t think you did anything wrong.”
“Then why did you leave for three days?” She swallowed hard
against the fear in her chest. She didn’t think he’d lie to her, but why did he
take off? Why wasn’t he here when she woke up?
He tightened his arms. “I saw something, when we died in the cave.”
“I don’t understand.” Hannah leaned back, letting Alaric take more
of her weight.
“You know I stopped believing in God after my mother died?” Gideon
let go of her and rubbed his eyes.
Hannah nodded. Was he crying?
“Well, when we died, I came face to face with something. A light.
Goodness. God, I guess. There’s no better word for it.” Gideon took her hand in
his and stroked her palm. It tickled, but Hannah didn’t pull away. The motion
seemed to soothe him.
“I can’t remember anything,” Hannah said carefully. “I was in the
cave, and then I woke up here.” She glanced around.
Gideon shrugged. “It’s okay. I know that maybe I was
hallucinating. That perhaps my brain was misfiring.”
“There are demons and vampires in this world,” Alaric said quietly.
He smiled at Hannah. “And witches.”
She smiled back tremulously.
“Is it so difficult to believe in a God? A higher power?” Alaric
asked Gideon.
“Yes.” Gideon made a sound in his throat. “I hated God when my
mother died. She had cancer. It was horrible. I didn’t understand why God would
do that to her.” He shook his head. “And I’m bisexual. The church says that’s
evil, but no matter what I did, no matter how much I prayed, the way I felt
about both men and women didn’t change.”
“It was as if God was denying you yourself,” Alaric said.
Gideon nodded sharply. “That’s it precisely. I loved helping
people when I was a priest, but the words I was taught to preach felt like
lies. I was a hypocrite every time I said mass. I offered them arbitrary rules,
not comfort.”