Black Heart (12 page)

Julian caught them in one hand. “Thank
you, cousin.”

He strode quickly for the
hallway.

Raylene jumped to her feet to run after
her brother. He couldn’t leave—she needed him! Deegan’s hand
quickly snatched her arm, halting her chase.

“
Let him go, Raylene. He needs
time alone.”

Her body went limp. She was wrung out, and
Deegan led her back to the sofa.

“
I believe we all need a drink.
Tristan, can you stay a bit longer? I have a few things to tell you
and Raylene.”

He moved over to the bar, pouring himself
a Black Bush, Tristan a Hennessey, and Raylene some Grey Goose. She
liked vodka as much as her father did. When they all had their
drinks, he pulled the other wing chair closer to them and faced
them.

“
I met Raynor Nightwood in 1361
Ireland on a battlefield during the last Norman invasion. I was a
warrior priest of our clan. When the battle was won, I was to give
last rites to the dying. Kneeling before a Norman knight, I began
the prayer. His eyes snapped open and he grabbed my wrist uttering,
‘I am not dead yet, priest.’ I took your father to my home, nursed
him back to health and our friendship took root. He decided to stay
in Ireland as many Normans did.

“
A few years passed.
I left the
priesthood to take a wife. Cadhla was my first mate. After two
years of marriage, she finally became pregnant. She had a difficult
birth and did not survive, and neither did my son. The midwife
botched the baptism, and the abbot stated my son would not go to
heaven. According to Holy Mother Church, he was damned. He also
informed me that Cadhla died suddenly before being able to confess
her sins, so she too would follow my son to the fiery pits of
eternal damnation. This was my reward for serving God for so many
years? I renounced God. I pledged to rise from my own death to
avenge my wife and son with all the powers of darkness. I pledged
my everlasting soul to the spirit of evil. I soon acquired my
threat for real. I fell ill and died and rose from my death, a
Vampire.”

Tristan’
s jaw dropped open in shock.
Raylene looked from father to son.

“
What is it? What does it
mean?”

“
Jesus, Dad.
You are a Primoris? A First? An
Original, and you never thought to tell me?”

“
Anything I kept to myself was
to protect my loved ones. It wasn’t out of malice or disrespect. I
am speaking of you both. And Lucius and anyone else I
love.”

He loved her?
Liar.
But she looked into
his eyes; those silver-gray eyes were weary, tormented, and full of
truth.

“
What is a Primoris?”

Tristan turned to her. “Royalty, one of
the first Vampires, a Vampire not turned. An original, which means
very powerful and near untouchable. Is that why the Bureau takes
your word for everything, allows you to do as you
please?”

Deegan leaned forward, his arms on his
thighs. “Yes, I would say that is the truth of it. It is why you
and Lucius have such strong Vampire blood flowing through your
veins though you are only half and quarter Vampire.”

“
So are you saying you serve
Lucifer?”

Deegan shook his head. “There are only a
few of us and it is not common knowledge in the Shadow World. We
don’t know who made us Vampires. Some dark entity, obviously. A
demon? Possibly. It has not been revealed to me.”

Deegan then
spoke the narrative of his
mates, human women he shared a few decades of his life with, loving
them in his own way, but not enough to turn them. He spoke of
Tristan’s mother. His face softened. Raylene felt a sting of
jealousy for this long dead woman who had captured Deegan’s
heart.

Deegan sat back, taking a deep gulp of his
Black Bush. “Your mother did not die of consumption, Tristan.
Again, I lied to protect you. You were away at school. Your mother
was pregnant. We did not dare hope, because after you she suffered
three miscarriages. We did not tell you, but it seems procreating
with Vampires has its dangers. Raylene, your own mother had
miscarriages after you.”

She could not believe it and seeing the
shocked look on Tristan’s face, neither could he.

“
It was horrible. It happened
during a storm. Hannah went into labor, and no doctor or midwife
could reach the house. I tried...” his voice broke. “Your mother
bled to death in my arms. The child, from what I could ascertain,
was a boy.” He stood suddenly, running his hands through his wavy
locks in agitation. “I swore after that, I would not take another
mate, get another woman pregnant, and never love again. How many
women would I kill with my lust? Cadhla, then Hannah, the two women
who meant the most to me all those centuries, I killed them both
and my unborn sons.”

Raylene felt her heart squeeze in her
chest. So it was not only the Concealment that had him denying the
Mate Bond all these decades. She thought him an emotionless
monster. He was the farthest thing from that. It seemed he felt
things too deeply. She felt that frosty wall around her heart begin
to melt. What he had suffered over the centuries. Burdens she could
not even fathom.

Tristan rose and walked over to his father
and embraced him. Deegan appeared shocked at the sudden show of
affection. His arms hung limp, but he soon reached up and held his
son tight to him.

“
I love you, son. Forgive
me.”

“
Nothing to forgive. I love you
too, Dad.” He stepped back. “I will leave you both alone. I think
you have more to discuss. Thank you for finally telling me about
Mother.”

Raylene watched Tristan leave. His
shoulders were slumped slightly, but he would go home and find
comfort with his new mate. She reached up and wiped the few tears
still falling down her cheeks. And what of Deegan and herself? This
explained so much, but brought up more questions. Deegan slumped
back down in his chair. He looked drained.

“
You know it all now. And I am
about to ask the impossible, your forgiveness. Can you forgive a
man who could not see, refused to feel, denied my love and my very
soul? For you are all that, Raylene, and more.”

****

Deegan
watched her closely, as he had the
past forty minutes. The emotions playing out on her face ran the
gambit from hate, anger, pity, compassion and confusion. He
desperately searched for love, desire and passion. It wasn’t there.
He didn’t sense it either, unless she was shuttering her deeper
emotions. Did he finally drive it from her, after all this time? It
would serve him right if he did. Bloody damned fool, but
ultimately, he deserved it. Perhaps they could sever the Mate Bond.
Had it been done before? In the Vampire world, everything had been
done. He clenched his fists; he ached to touch her.
Confession was good
for the soul
his arse. Right now his soul roared in torment. Raynor,
Tristan, Raylene. Even Marcus.

Her hands sat in her lap, the knuckles
white from her forming fists as he spoke.

“
Did my father asked to be
turned?”

She didn’
t answer his question, but he
would answer hers.

“
No. I gave him no choice in the
matter. After my resurrection, I went straight to your father.
Imagine his shock; he only buried me two days previous. I wanted to
give him the gift of eternal life. So I did.”

Her eyes grew wide. “You turned him
without his consent? I thought that wasn’t possible!”

“
I am Primoris. I can do
anything. However, I learned better control as time went by. Your
father was angry at first, but quickly forgave me. He always
did.”

Raylene gave a sharp bark of cynical
laughter.

“
And now you want me to forgive
you as Daddy always did? Maybe I don’t love you as he seemed
to.”

He gave her one of his intense stares, but
Raylene did not wither under his powerful gaze.

“
You are lying,
Raylene.”

“
Your eyes are red again. They
were in the pub and while you were fucking me. Why?”

He instantly closed them. “Because I am
Primoris. When the emotions are intense, they glow. It doesn’t
happen often, though lately I have not had any control over
it.”

“
Is that why you keep your
emotions sheltered and hidden?” Her voice was softer, so he opened
his eyes. She gasped, still red then.

“
Yes. Vampires as you know can
feel things deeply, and for me as a Primoris it is intensified. I
learned over the centuries to conceal and protect what many in the
Shadow World consider a weakness. They are glowing red now,
Raylene, because I long to kiss every inch of your skin, taste you,
love you, thrust my cock into you and never let you go.
Never.”

He watched her internal struggle. It
played out on her lovely features. He got up from his chair and
crouched down beside hers. His hands spread wide and moved up her
legs, and she trembled under his touch.

“
Forgive me.”

His voice was husky, raw with emotion. He
held nothing back nor hid anything from her. Never again. His hands
moved to her waist, caressing her skin under her sweater, and his
thumbs brushed the underside of her breasts. She shuddered again.
He leaned in, nuzzling her neck.

“
Forgive me.”

Agonizing minutes passed. Finally, she
threw her arms around his neck.

“
Yes. I forgive you. I love you,
Deegan. I always have, and I always will.”

He grasped her face tenderly and kissed
her, a gentle but unqualified possession. So much had happened the
last twenty-four hours. More than in the last twenty-four years. He
pulled back.

“
Let's go down to the water. No
one will see us.”

Chapter Eight

Marcus
stayed at the Rusty Anchor Pub. More
of a case of he had nowhere else to go than he was having a good
time. He managed to avoid eviction from the pub by buying the house
a round of drinks and slipping Hammond a few hundreds to cover the
smashed wood panel Deegan almost put him through.

Other than that, he sat alone at a corner
booth drinking and lost in his thoughts. He reflected on his
response to Raylene, Deegan’s mate. The emotions she stirred in
him. Compassion, desire and warmth, emotions he really had not felt
before. She’d had a firm grip on his cock. Would he have fucked
her? He wasn’t sure if it would’ve come to that. His future looked
muddled, and it depressed him completely.

Taking a leisurely, languid sip of his
Glenfiddich, he caught a slight whiff of that musky, oceanic scent
again. Damn, had Deegan come back to pound the shit out of him just
to make a point? He looked up, and standing at the bar staring at
him was one of the most handsome men he had seen in quite some
time. The man had just been in Deegan’s company, but not
intimately, or was he? The man had Vampire blood. Tall, very well
built with the sort of male-model features both genders go for were
they so inclined.

Marcus felt a figurative strike
of a match deep in his gut, and that match was set to tinder,
igniting a slow burn. The man was clean
-shaven, his short layered chestnut
hair curled around his ears. His eyes were a haunting shade of
hazel. Yes, even in the darkened lighting of the pub he saw this
man clearly. Their body types were similar. Muscular and solid, but
not overly ripped. Something deep and primitive stirred in Marcus.
Somehow being possessed in all ways by the
GQ
model appealed to him, and he could see by
the fiery light in the other man’s eyes, he felt the same. He could
get up and walk over to where the man stood, but let the hunk of
man-meat come to him. Marcus leaned back against the leather booth.
He inclined his head toward the seat next to him.

The man cocked an eyebrow, but did not
move toward him. Instead, he turned to the bartender as if ordering
a drink. Marcus shrugged, guessing he was getting mixed signals,
though his semi-hard cock didn’t think so. He thought he sensed
desire from the man, perhaps not. He looked away and concentrated
on his scotch. Tonight was one for the books.

A few moments later, a deep voice cut
through his thoughts. “Invitation still stand?”

Marcus glanced up. The model held an amber
drink in his hand. He looked into his eyes and orange flames seemed
to be flickering in the hazel depths. The man was dangerous. Marcus
sensed the man wanted and needed to fuck something—anything. He
looked like he wanted to dominate, possess and to take out his
aggressions, his anger, and his grief. Marcus did not usually play
the part of the submissive when he was with men. He usually did the
fucking. But tonight after all that had happened, and the mood he
found himself in, why not? His gaze raked over the long, firm frame
of the man standing before him. His cock hardened
further.

“
Yes, please do take a
seat.”

The man scooted across the bench seat. He
sat so close their bodies brushed by each other. The man pressed
his thigh and leg next to Marcus in blatant invitation.