Blood Eternal (37 page)
“Is your separation recent?” Elizabeth asked, wondering anxiously whether Mihaela was about to get herself into hot water with Rikard, in whom Mihaela seemed to have a greater interest than in Tarcal.
“We’ve been divorced for a year. What about you, Elizabeth? Do you want children?”
Elizabeth picked up her wineglass, as if it could protect her. Without warning, she imagined herself with Rikard, holding a baby over which they both smiled with loving pride. A happy, contented existence. A good life, with a good man and a child, maybe lots of children . . .
Fortunately, her own choke of self-mocking laughter interrupted her vision. She set down her glass. “It’s not something I think about right now,” she said, and changed the subject. “Mihaela, that was delicious! What herbs did you use?”
And yet, as she risked another glance at Rikard, she noted again how handsome he was, how kind and sensual his lips were. She wondered what it would be like to kiss him, to have babies with him, to live with him into old age.
Clearly, she’d had too much wine. Rikard was a much better match for Mihaela.
Later, after dessert and coffee, Elizabeth helped Mihaela clear the table, leaving the men to debate whether Tarcal should drive home himself or get a lift with his brother, who’d drunk rather less wine.
“He likes you,” Mihaela said, smiling, as she piled plates into the sink.
“Who does?”
“Rikard, of course.”
“I think it’s you he’s aiming for,” Elizabeth said dryly, but Mihaela, who avoided long-term relationships, frowned at her in an irritated kind of way.
“Do you like him?” she demanded.
“Of course I do,” Elizabeth said warmly. “He’s charming.” And if Mihaela could just get over her view that being a hunter precluded her from any kind of normal love life, maybe he
was
just the man for her. A sudden longing to be with her own love rose up, and she said hastily, “I’ve got to go, Mihaela, but I’ve had a lovely time.” She gave her friend a quick hug and whispered in her ear, “Go for it.”
was
just the man for her. A sudden longing to be with her own love rose up, and she said hastily, “I’ve got to go, Mihaela, but I’ve had a lovely time.” She gave her friend a quick hug and whispered in her ear, “Go for it.”
Mihaela looked startled, making Elizabeth laugh as she swung out of the kitchen to say good-bye to the men. Without warning, she bumped straight into Rikard in the hallway and jumped back with a word of apology.
Rikard’s hands were on her arm and waist to steady her. “My fault,” he said with a smile, but although she was quite stable on her feet, he didn’t at once remove his hands. His blue eyes were warm, giving Elizabeth an instant’s warning before he said, “Tarcal’s making his own arrangements. May I take you home?”
Elizabeth stepped back out of his reach. “No, thanks.”
He followed her, raising one hand to touch her cheek. “Elizabeth. You’re very sweet. I’m asking for no more than to drive you home tonight, but I would like to see you again.”
“Um . . . I don’t think that’s a good idea,” she said. She looked him in the eye. “It’s complicated, but I’m in a relationship with someone else.”
“Mihaela told me,” he said with a gentleness that amounted to sympathy. “If you like, we can go to my place. Or I can drop you off close to your home. Let me help.”
Elizabeth’s breath caught. She felt winded. “That won’t be necessary,” she said, forcing her teeth apart to speak with anything approaching normality. “Nice to have met you, Rikard. Good-bye.”
She went to the bathroom to give the brothers time to leave. She couldn’t trust herself to speak until they’d gone. Sitting on the edge of the bath, she had to summon all her self-control just to call her usual taxi firm and order a cab.
As she emerged from the bathroom, Mihaela faced her in the hallway, her expression unreadable.
“What did you tell them?” Elizabeth asked. “That Saloman beats me?”
Mihaela’s chin lifted. “I left it to their imaginations.”
“While implying I was unhappy and in need of a knight in shining armor?”
“Aren’t you?”
She stared at Mihaela. “No. And no. Why do other people keep deciding what I need?”
“Because you don’t seem to see it for yourself!”
“What if it’s you who can’t see, Mihaela?”
Mihaela brushed past her. “You’re making an issue out of nothing. All I did was invite some friends to meet you, introduced you to a nice man who has the same interests and the same goals in life as you. I didn’t sell you into sex slavery.”
Elizabeth’s temper snapped. “Damn it, Mihaela, how can I trust you when you’re doing this stuff behind my back?”
Mihaela’s whole body whipped around.
“Trust?”
Her face flushed a deep, intense red. “Don’t you
dare
talk to me about trust! I’ve stood by you when you lied to us, betrayed us, slept with our greatest enemy! Even when you try to win us to his cause, I don’t denounce you. I keep your secret in front of my employers, who
do
trust me. Why? Because you’re my friend. And if I hope for your happiness, I believe
that’s
a part of friendship. If I hope that you’ll see sense and leave him, to give yourself a chance to live, is that such a fucking crime against trust?”
“Trust?”
Her face flushed a deep, intense red. “Don’t you
dare
talk to me about trust! I’ve stood by you when you lied to us, betrayed us, slept with our greatest enemy! Even when you try to win us to his cause, I don’t denounce you. I keep your secret in front of my employers, who
do
trust me. Why? Because you’re my friend. And if I hope for your happiness, I believe
that’s
a part of friendship. If I hope that you’ll see sense and leave him, to give yourself a chance to live, is that such a fucking crime against trust?”
The truth in Mihaela’s angry words lashed her. The blood drained from her head, leaving her weak and dizzy.
Not now, damn it, not now . . .
Closing her eyes, she tried to force the nausea back. To think through it.
Not now, damn it, not now . . .
Closing her eyes, she tried to force the nausea back. To think through it.
“I don’t deserve a friend like you,” she whispered. “I know that. And whatever you think, I do value our friendship. I value you and the others more than you’ll ever know. But this thing with Saloman . . . you mustn’t touch it, Mihaela. It needs space to grow, even to survive. . . .” She trailed off, aware she was making no sense.
Mihaela said, “I don’t want it to survive.”
Elizabeth opened her eyes and smiled weakly. “Mihaela.” It seemed her legs would move after all. They got her across the hall until she could put her arms around her friend. “It isn’t up to you,” she whispered on a weird, aching kind of a laugh.
Mihaela didn’t get it—how could she?—but after a moment’s rigidity, she gave in and hugged Elizabeth back before pushing her away. The sickness began to fade, allowing Elizabeth the strength to move, to pick up her jacket and bag off the chair in the corner of the hall.
At the front door, she paused and gave a lopsided smile over her shoulder. “I really did enjoy tonight. Thanks.”
Mihaela let out a laugh and threw a snatched-up glove at her. “Get out of here.”
Dante saw the vampire at once. Although the evening had grown cool, he wore a black tank with his jeans and sat unmoving between a statue and one of the stone pillars that framed it. He looked unexpectedly boyish, a shock of dark, curly hair falling forward over his face. From Timucin’s description, Dante had imagined someone more imposing.
There were always people in Heroes’ Square, even in the dark of the evening. It was a good place to blend in, despite its huge size. However, the vampire’s chosen position at almost twice the height of most men, lit up by the floodlight, was not exactly subtle. Crossing the square toward the semicircle of statues, Dante had plenty of time to examine Luk’s would-be follower, and he felt both excited and intimidated.
Dante wasn’t used to feeling intimidated. In his life he had regarded few men as his equal, absolutely none as his superior, not even presidents of the United States, most of whom he’d known since they were snotty-nosed kids. Now, technically at the bottom of the vampire hierarchy, he was nevertheless aware of his own advantages; this was why he had been so determined to be turned by the Sword of Saloman or, failing that, by a vampire who bore the blood of an Ancient. It made him intrinsically greater than ordinary fledglings and most other vampires he had yet encountered.
But this vampire was strong and subtle. He had layers of masking that hid his identity, and yet he allowed a glimpse of simple vampire, enough to draw Dante to him. The vampire didn’t even look at him as he came to a halt before him. Dante examined the statue and the name on the plinth.
“ ‘Bethlen Gabor,’ ” he read. “What did he do to deserve such honor?”
“The honor of the statue? Which is nothing like him, by the way. Or of my companionship?” His voice was unexpectedly quiet. Without vampire hearing, Dante doubted he would have heard him.
“Either,” Dante said.
“He was a soldier. And a friend of mine.” The vampire slid smoothly to the ground in front of him. “Where is Luk?”
“He sent me to speak for him.”
“I’m bored speaking with dog’s bodies. If Luk isn’t interested in my support, it would be more polite to say so.”
The vampire turned his back, already walking away. “No, wait. Of course he’s interested,” Dante said hastily, forced to leap after him in a manner that did not improve his dignity.
“So he sends me a fledgling?”
“We don’t know who you are,” Dante blurted. Why the hell was he pleading with this creature?
The vampire glanced over his shoulder. “Maximilian.”
In his attic, Luk howled with glee. “Maximilian? His own child? I couldn’t have hoped for better! It will hurt him all the more because he hasn’t yet managed to find and kill this most important of his slayers. Oh, I love this!”
“Is Maximilian as strong as he seems?” Dante asked.
“For a modern vampire, yes. He was good. Very good. And he can only be stronger now. He’ll be very useful when we strike.” Luk spoke impatiently, almost distractedly, for his mind was dwelling on all the hurts he would soon inflict upon Saloman. He’d leave him with nothing; he’d turn his mind inside out again, and then he’d kill him. It would indeed be the dawn of a new age, and Luk would have his revenge on the whole world.
He couldn’t quite remember, and he didn’t much care, what it was the world had done to him. He just knew everyone had to pay for his being here. Maybe then the peace would come back. No Saloman, no hate, no gut-wrenching anger. No fear.
As the last word hit his mind, he swung back to Dante. “You didn’t tell him our plan, did you?”
“No. But why do you ask?” Dante frowned. “Don’t you trust him?”
“Of course I don’t trust him, fool. Word must not get out by any means. The shock will be all the greater, as will our success. And I’m almost ready. Almost.”
Emerging from Mihaela’s flat into darkness, Elizabeth could see no sign of the taxi she’d ordered.
“I sent it away,” Saloman said, his dark, tall figure appearing to materialize beside her. “I thought we could walk.”
A sudden rush of gladness rooted her to the spot. Could she deal with this now, so soon after the confrontation with Mihaela? She was too emotional. And where Saloman was concerned, so ridiculously unsure.
His lightest touch on her arm urged her forward. Behind and above, she knew Mihaela watched them from her window. She wondered whether the hunter found any comfort in Saloman’s protection of her, or if she simply hated to see them together.
“To what do I owe the honor?” she asked lightly, still not looking at him. “Are you afraid Luk will try to kill me again?”
“It’s a possibility,” Saloman admitted. “And Dmitriu and Maximilian appear to be busy.”
Earlier, it would have hurt, but it seemed quarreling with Mihaela had put things back in perspective. She knew he was joking. Hiding a smile, she finally turned her face up to him.
He was watching her intently, his eyes pools of darkness that occasionally glinted under the streetlight.
“I can mask you over a distance, hide you from him, as I did last night,” he said, “but I prefer to be sure you’re safe.” Slowly, he threaded his fingers through hers, and she found herself clinging to them as if to her only lifeline.
He gazed up at the moon as they walked along the silent street, and she waited. The rhythm of her heart drowned out their footsteps, soothed the turbulence of the last day’s hurt. She could leave it alone, simply bask in the current happiness of his presence—and wait for something similar to happen again. Or she could face up to it now.
“Safe,” she repeated. “That’s what you said last night. You want me to feel safe with you. Do you really think I need a demonstration to feel that? To understand?”
The pause went on so long, she thought he wouldn’t answer, and the despair began to settle around her again. Then his fingers moved on hers, lightly caressing. “You may call me crass. But I suppose I wanted you to compare me fairly to humans as you learned more of me.”
Elizabeth stared up at him. She didn’t know whether to hit him or laugh. “That’s what last night was about? You still think I’ll leave you when I see into your heart. Is it so very black?”
A muscle clenched in his cheek. The silence stretched. Then: “I don’t know. It’s been so long since anyone’s looked and told me.”
Slowly, hesitantly, Elizabeth drew closer, until she could rest her head against his shoulder, letting the jumble of wonder and pity resolve into more than forgiveness, into the beginnings of new understanding.
“I’m sorry,” he said, low. “I shouldn’t force you to see such things when there’s nothing you can do to help. I promised you the night, not the horror. Come.” His stride lengthened, causing her to trot to keep up with him. “This is what I would have shown you next;
all
we should have seen last night.”
all
we should have seen last night.”
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