Bound to the Vampire (10 page)

His stomach rolled. It was inexcusable. His inaction had caused her pain and he hadn’t stopped any of it simply because she’d hurt him once. Once in all the time he’d known her.

“Why the sigh?” she asked softly as they wove their way toward the beach front cottages.

She'd heard that? Of course she had. Since that first moment, they'd had the kind of connection that most people only dreamt of. The kind of connection that legends were made of.

A bolt of lightning zinged across the sky overhead. Silently he counted the seconds until the thunder rumbled across the ocean.

She squeezed his hand when he didn’t reply.

Gods he missed this. The ease. Never before her and certainly not since had he felt so relaxed with anyone else. Their relationship had been primal, yes, but spiritual too. Somehow whenever she was near, things made sense. Life was easier. Decisions, simpler to make. Which made their history all that harder to come to terms with.

“A little bit of everything.” Why had she stopped him before in his room? Was she so worried what her friends would think? It seemed like they all approved of their fearless leader finding a little happiness.

Was she still upset about his demand that she marry him? It was unlike her to let things fester. At least, the old Valencia would have called him out about it. She would have taken him to task for calling her his wife at the Masquerade.

She paused and he felt her gaze. Then she pulled her hand from his and the connection, never mind how tenuous, was lost. He wasn't having that. Not after the progress they'd made.

He reached for her hand again and for just a moment, he was able to read her thoughts. Chaos. Uncertainty. She thought he was keeping secrets.

If there was any hope at a future together, they needed to talk. Clear the air. He was tired of waiting, of warming her up to the idea of him, them, together again. Together at last.

“I'm not keeping secrets,
chérie
.”

She huffed out a breath. “I don’t believe that. You and your father are so good at keeping your secrets until the moment they’ll do the most damage.”

Her language confused him. She’d spoken in the present tense, as if… “Surely you heard the news of my father.”

A swift breeze tunneled through the foliage and lifted her hair.

“No.”

He frowned.

She looked down at the ground and he caught that hint of insecurity again. “I try to stay out of that...business.”

She’d cocooned herself; it explained so much. He wished he'd been able to do that. If he'd really wanted to, he could have. Just like her he could have left his family, his station behind. But did that really work? Was it truly possible to leave your past behind?

It seemed it hadn’t worked so well for her. On one hand, she’d thrived as a businesswoman. She’d created a comfortable life for herself, surrounding herself by true friends. But at what cost? Her family was gone. Her family home, lost. But maybe that wasn’t so bad at all. Though she’d lost much of her vibrancy, maybe she was happy underneath it all.

If that was the case, why did he sense a bone deep chill in her? Why did she seem one fake smile away from cracking into a million pieces?

His father had been the root of his pain, the source of so many problems. And now he knew that his father had been the source of her pain as well.

Never again.

Dameon couldn't stop himself from touching her, from reaching for her and cupping her cheeks between his hands the way he had a thousand times before.

Eyes locked with hers, he implored her to understand. “He's dead.”

Strange words for an immortal, but true nonetheless.

Her breath hissed through her teeth. “Dead?”

The disbelief showed on her face, in her eyes, the drop of her jaw, the lift in her perfect dark brows.

He nodded.

She dropped her gaze to his chest and her mind opened to him. The implications of what the news meant swirled through her mind.

“How?” she asked, her voice…relieved.

“By my own hand.”

Her lovely blue eyes went wide and she leaned back a fraction, but he didn't sense any fear in her. Rather, shock. Stone cold shock chased away every other emotion in her mind. And in an instant, it was replaced by regret. She was sorry he’d had to do such a thing. If he wasn't mistaken, she leaned into his touch.

“Why?”

“We fought all the time, my father and I. We fought last month. He insisted I produce heirs. He'd been insisting for years. I always told him no. And that was the end of it. He was just a figure head and he knew it. But what I didn't know was he was making alliances behind my back. He found out about our bond and he tried to use it against me. He wanted me to... never mind.”

“No. Tell me.” It wasn't as if she didn't know how depraved the vampire world could be. And as alarming as the story was, she knew it was the truth. His father had been the king of ruthless bastards.

“He planned to kill you, to kill our bond. Then I'd be free to produce heirs with someone else.”

Valencia felt like the wind had been knocked out of her. She'd given up her life, her station to rid herself of that world. She'd tried to live quietly, not in the vampire world, not with the humans either. For so long she’d lived in between, in a place of limbo, but she'd made a success of herself, reinventing herself dozens of times over.

But she had never lifted a finger against the LeBeaus. And that imbecile wanted her dead.

She choked on a gasp. That kind of cold hate was something she kept locked so deep she'd thought it was gone. But it filled her anew.

“I couldn't let him do that. I'd bought his lies for far too long. I was too happy with my station, I'm appalled to say. But I couldn't let him get away with harming you.”

“Do you—” She licked her lips and forced the words out. Her heart, her soul, her life hung in the balance of his answer. “Do you want to stay bound to me?”

Was that why he wouldn't let his father kill her? Because he wanted to keep the connection? Did he still love her? And if he did, why did he say all those things the eve of their wedding? Could love last that long, unnurtured?

She knew even as she thought the question what the answer was.

Yes
.

Even after his betrayal, deep down she still loved him. It was sick, positively ridiculous, but it was forever. Their connection remained unbroken even after all the time, the space, the distance, the wars, and the fighting. It had somehow survived complete heartbreak.

But he hadn't answered her question and that, in itself, was her answer.

Her eyes flooded and she blinked back the tears. But she wasn't fast enough. A drop hit her cheek.

She back peddled through the sand. The instant the connection was broken she flashed inside the cottage. The tears refused to be held back and a sob tore from her throat. Outside, thunder boomed and then a deluge of rain hit the tin roof. She stumbled into the master bathroom, her hands holding her up against the vanity.

She heard Dameon over the rain, pounding on the front door and shouting her name. She wanted to scream but her throat wouldn't work. She could hardly breathe as it was. Her throat burned like she’d swallowed acid.

How had she managed to screw up again? A few days in his company and he'd effortlessly stepped back into her heart. Worse, she'd started to hope. That tiny little kernel wasn't as tiny as she'd hoped. It was massive. It was...

She was so cold.
So
cold. Like the kind of cold that went soul deep.

How stupid could she be? Why had she let him in? Why hadn't she escaped the moment she'd heard his voice again?

That wicked voice.

It tempted her. It teased her. It weakened her.

Sniffling, she bit her lip and stumbled to the shower and turned the hot water on. How would she survive this time? He didn't want her dead but he didn't want to be bound to her either?

She didn't bother to undress. Merely kicked off her flip flops and stepped into the spray. The hot water pelted her, washed away her tears, but she made more. Always more.

And then it happened. Her throat opened up and she screamed. Loud. Long. No words, just sounds. Pain and sadness and hope left her in a shrill cry that would be heard around the island. It seemed the gods heard her.

Outside lightning lit the sky a brilliant blue and thunder clapped in a show that rivaled her own display. The dark bathroom was bright with Mother Nature’s fury.

She collapsed against the tile wall and let the sobs take her.

Over everything she heard Dameon calling her name. He sounded close. Too close. It was just her brain playing tricks.

She should have listened to her brain, not her silly heart. But she'd so wanted to believe. Believe in him. Believe in them, that time and circumstances had changed. His father was dead. Dameon had come back into her life with a flourish and she'd hoped. She'd believed that she could have what her coven mates had found.

Happily ever after.

Love.

Passion.

What had she done to deserve this? Why insist she marry him? Did he want what he'd been denied? Was it just a sick game for him? Marry her. Leave her. As long as they were bound she couldn't have children with anyone else. Was this payback for leaving him at the altar?

And then it struck her. Children. He wanted children.

Of course. He was wealthy, settled, head of his coven, at the very top of Vampire Society now. It was only natural that he’d want heirs. And she was the only one who could give them to him.

She started to hyperventilate again and for the first time in her life she wished she wasn't immortal. She wished she wasn't so hard to kill.

He should have let his father kill her.

Dameon felt each of Valencia's sobs like a knife wound to his heart. Her pain was so vibrant, so thick, and so deep it was like a living beast slaying her. He found her slumped against the wall of the shower, the red dress plastered to her skin as multiple showerheads rained down on her.

Her screams filled not just his ears, but his soul. In his life he'd never heard a more mournful sound. Never seen pain quite like this.

He'd hesitated. That hesitation had been enough to destroy her one more time.

He didn't hesitate this time.

He opened the shower door and reached for her. Clothes and all, he pulled her soaking body against his and held her tight. She clung to him and cried. Her body convulsed against his for several minutes before she finally realized she was in his arms. He knew the exact moment that the realization hit her by the way she tensed.

“I'm sorry,” he said against her hair. Steam billowed around them and another bolt of lightning turned the bathroom a bright blue. The hair on the back of his neck stood on end but he wasn't moving. He'd risk electrocution before he'd leave her again. “So sorry, Valencia.”

She sniffed indelicately. The sound was so unlike the woman he knew and showed just how low she was. How stripped and vulnerable she was and it was all his doing.

“I want our bond. I want you. I always have and I always will.”

He said the words of his heart, words he should have said when she'd asked. Words he should have said centuries ago. He should have tracked her down instead of letting her get away.

There was so much more to say, but he heard himself ask “what did you mean before about my Father and I keeping secrets?”

She let out a bitter laugh and pushed him to an arm’s length. The coldness in her eyes shocked him. Solid silver and bleak as an icy wasteland.

“I heard you.”

“When?”

She threw her head back and blinked away a fresh round of tears. “The night before our wedding. You told your father you didn't love me, that it was all a lie, a ruse to make sure I'd marry you. You wanted a biddable wife. I heard the whole thing.”

“So you believed a snippet of conversation you overhead over six months with me?”

He couldn't believe his ears; even though he knew it was the truth. It was as if someone else had taken over her body and was spouting words in a foreign language.

“You're denying what you said? What you meant? The two of you were so convincing Dameon that I still get sick just thinking about—”

Dameon bit back his fury and stepped forward. “Once upon a time you knew me better than anyone else.”

“Don't you once upon a time me, Dameon. This isn't a fairy tale. This is my life.”

“And you ruined it all by eavesdropping!” His voice rivaled the thunder overhead.

“What would you have believed?”

“You didn't hear the whole conversation.” He remembered that moment as clear as if it'd happened half an hour ago. It was the first major row with his father. They'd almost come to blows.

“If you had, you would have known where my true loyalties lay.”

Her head came up. “What do you mean?”

She wrapped her arms around herself in a protective gesture that pierced his anger.