In Memories We Fear (27 page)

“Yes, we’ll bring everything.”

“Okay, thanks. See you soon.”

They both hung up.

Philip was staring daggers at him.

“I know where they are,” Wade said. “We need to catch a train.”

Philip grabbed up his machete and his coat. He didn’t say anything.

 

Mary didn’t realize how close she’d cut her time until about four seconds after materializing on top of the Montague . . . just as Wade and Philip walked out the front door carrying their luggage.

Due to her short visit with Jasper, she could have missed them leaving.

Yikes.

But that recrimination didn’t stay with her long. She hadn’t missed them. They were on the move, and they seemed to have checked out of the hotel.

Finally.

She watched them climb into a taxi, and then she floated upward, high in the sky, keeping an eye on their cab as she followed. They went all the way to Paddington Station.

Interesting.

She couldn’t wait to see where they went next.

 

For Wade, the train ride seemed short, but he was growing more and more concerned about Philip—who hadn’t said a word since Eleisha’s call. Wade tried to engage him a few times, but he got no response.

After completing a taxi ride from Oxford Station all the way to Caufield Cemetery where Eleisha had instructed them to get out, Wade paid the driver and watched him drive off; then he turned to Philip.

“I promised Eleisha we’d help her,” he said, “and she’s trusting me. She says she’s gotten this vampire calm and able to speak, so it’s possible we were both wrong. When we get there, you need to at least listen to what she has to say and not start yelling . . . or anything else. Do you understand?”

Philip studied the headstones all around them.

“Philip! Do you understand?”

“I understand.”

Well, at least he’d said something. Wade didn’t begrudge him his anger, but they were not guiltless here, and it seemed now that Eleisha may have been right all along. He’d just have to make an assessment and see if she was overstating the vampire’s progress.

The air shimmered, and Seamus materialized with a guarded expression. He didn’t move for a long moment and then looked at Wade.

“You’re here to help?” he asked.

“Yes.”

Philip didn’t say anything, and Wade wondered if his silence was simple agreement to the answer. But even if not, Eleisha had always been able to handle him. She’d be ready to placate him now, and they couldn’t go back. They could only move forward.

“This way,” Seamus said, heading down a path through the trees that Wade had not noticed before.

Eleisha was standing in front of the shack, waiting as Seamus, Wade, and Philip came out of the trees and began walking through the smaller, older graveyard. She braced herself. Rose and Maxim were still inside, but Eleisha needed to get a feel for what she was up against.

Both men were carrying luggage. That was a good sign. They’d done as she had asked, and they seemed prepared to stay here if need be. But as she got a clearer look at Philip, some of her hopes fell. He put down the suitcase. His hair was a mess. His coat was buttoned only halfway up his chest, and he wasn’t wearing a shirt beneath it. Had he ridden to Oxford like that?

That wasn’t a good sign.

Still, just the sight of him sent a jolt up her spine she did not expect. She was surprised, almost ashamed, of how much she’d missed his handsome face, his need for fun . . . the feel of his chest beneath her head.

He wasn’t looking back at her. He wasn’t looking at anyone.

“Wade?” she asked anxiously. “Everything okay?”

“Yes,” he answered.

The gratitude she felt for him at that moment could not be measured. No matter what breaches or difficulties passed them, he would put the mission first—or at least as he saw it. She knew he would always protect her above any other vampire they found, and this had motivated him earlier to side with Philip. But now he was ready to help her: solid as a rock, ready to forgive and forget.

Healing mutual wounds with Philip might take longer, but at least he wasn’t in a rage.

She nodded to Wade, reached back, and opened the door.

“It’s all right. You can come out.”

Tentatively, Maxim came toward her and stepped out the door. On seeing Philip, he stopped.

“This is Maxim,” Eleisha said.

Then Eleisha heard a whooshing sound.

 

Philip opened his coat with his left hand and jerked out the machete with his right.

He was the only one capable of doing what was necessary, and he had no intention of shirking that responsibility.

Eleisha was not a fool in most ways, but she had a blind side when it came to other vampires. She had trusted Simone back in Denver. . . . She had tried everything to help Simone, and the result had nearly been her own death.

That
was not going to happen again.

He strode forward without hesitation, even as Wade called out.

“Philip! What are you doing?”

The black-haired vampire’s eyes widened, and then it bolted left, running for the trees.

“Philip!” Eleisha shouted.

But he didn’t listen. Better he hurt her now than let that feral vampire hurt her later. He broke into a run, keeping the creature in sight as it passed the tree line. This time, it would not escape him. It was fast, blurring among the dense greens and browns of the forest, but Philip increased his own speed, gripping the machete. This would take only one swing.

Every muscle in his body went rigid at the same time, and he fell forward into the dirt. Eleisha was inside his head, and his mind roared back at her. How could she? How could she side against him even now?

Raw anger such as he’d never felt before exploded inside him, and he used all his internal strength to push her out. She fought him, trying to keep him frozen. But he pushed back harder, feeling her control give way, and he jumped to his feet.

The vampire was gone.

Whirling around, he saw Eleisha standing about twenty feet behind him just beyond the tree line. Wade, Rose, and Seamus were behind her, nearer to the shack.

Rage kept coming in waves, and, nearly blind with anger, he roared at Eleisha with his voice this time. Striding back toward her, he felt his lips curl up into a snarl.

 

Wade almost couldn’t believe what was happening, but Philip was closing in on Eleisha, snarling and carrying a machete.

He started to run toward them, but Rose grabbed his arm, dragging him back.

He shook her off, scrambling forward as she cried, “Wade, no! Look at his face!”

Something in her voice stopped him, and she grabbed his arm again.

“He’ll kill you in that state!” she said. “She’s the only one safe from him! He might knock her out so she won’t try to stop him again, but that’s the worst he’ll do.”

Her hands gripped tighter as he hesitated for just a second.

 

Eleisha could hear Rose shouting behind her, but Philip was coming straight at her, and for the first time since the night she’d met him . . . she was afraid of him. He had a full block up, and she couldn’t get a command through.

He was closing the distance between them rapidly, but she wouldn’t run—not from Philip.

Then a high-pitched cry, like that of an animal, rang through the night, and a black and white blur came from the trees at high speed. Before Eleisha really understood what was happening, a loud thud sounded, and Philip pitched forward again, hitting the ground.

She realized the black and white blur was Maxim; he dashed around Philip to get in front of her . . . and he was holding a tree branch. Philip’s head was dripping blood, but he jumped to his feet again, his eyes lost in a mad rage.

“Leisha, back!” Maxim shouted, gripping the branch with both hands. He snarled at Philip. “No!”

Philip stopped when Maxim spoke, taking in his stance and the branch in his hands.

“Can’t you see?” Eleisha cried. “He’s protecting me! He thinks he’s protecting me from you!”

Don’t move,
she flashed to Maxim.
Don’t attack him
.

Philip stood there, staring at Maxim, and Eleisha knew this might be the only moment she’d have to get through to him.

“Philip, please. He can already feed without killing. I know I was wrong before, in Denver, but trust me this time. He can function.” She choked. “He’s been alone nearly two hundred years, and I can’t finish this by myself. Please.”

Philip moved his gaze from Maxim to Eleisha. His head was still bleeding, but slowly, he lowered the machete.

 

Mary floated in the darkness of the trees, close enough that at one point, she might have run her hand through Maxim as he dashed past.

Seamus was too preoccupied to sense for her, so she watched the whole scene play out, thinking that any moment Philip was going to end this, and she’d be able to teleport back to Julian with good news.

Then, Philip seemed on the brink of turning on Eleisha—something Mary had not thought possible—and Maxim ran back into the fight . . . to protect Eleisha.

And he was speaking.

The sound of his words, and the sight of him defending Eleisha, brought Philip to a screeching halt. Mary felt her hopes begin to sink.

“He’s been alone nearly two hundred years,” Eleisha cried, “and I can’t finish this by myself. Please.” She was choking, and if she’d been mortal, she would have been sobbing. She was begging Philip—and he always responded when she begged him.

As Mary watched the rage fade from Philip’s face, her hopes died.

He lowered his blade.

Cursing quietly, Mary blinked out. This was far from over.

chapter fourteen

T
en minutes later, Wade decided to follow Eleisha’s lead—in however she wanted to move through the following hours of this night. Although the crisis seemed to have passed, the situation was far from resolved.

They were all still outside.

But Philip stood back, away from everyone, and Maxim wouldn’t go near him. Eleisha had somehow gotten Maxim to put the tree branch down, and she was leading him back toward the shack. Wade couldn’t help being fascinated by the difference in this tragic creature from the last time he’d seen him.

Eleisha had not been exaggerating.

She was holding Maxim’s hand as she led him closer. “Maxim, this is Wade,” she said. “You’ll like him. He’s nice, like Brandon.”

Maxim looked up. “Like Brandon?”

“Yes, very much like Brandon.”

Wade had no idea what this meant, but he didn’t interrupt.

“Can you go inside with Wade and Rose, and maybe show Brandon to Wade?” Eleisha asked.

“With memory?”

“Yes, with a memory.”

Rose reached out to help guide Maxim back inside, and suddenly, Eleisha flashed into Wade’s mind.

Wade nodded and then asked aloud, “Aren’t you coming in?”

“Not yet.”

She was already walking backward . . . toward Philip.

Wade should have known. No matter what happened, no matter who it was they needed to help, no matter how grateful Eleisha might be to Wade, in the end, she would go running to Philip.

It would always be Philip.

 

Eleisha walked through the aged headstones.

Philip’s coat was still open, and his ivory chest shone in the moonlight. His head had stopped bleeding. He saw her coming toward him and glanced away, as if he couldn’t bring himself to look at her. She was still unsettled over being so affected tonight by the mere sight of him.

His physical appearance was just part of his gift, part of the illusion he needed to hunt. She’d never let herself think much on it before.

Or had she?

Maybe because she had spent so much time in Maxim’s memories, among the vanity of vampires, and love of personal beauty, this thought was foremost in her conscious mind as she looked at Philip now. In her opinion, Maxim’s beauty had been a shadow next to Philip’s.

Philip was tall and fierce and strong. The clean lines of his face and his red-brown hair were perfect to her—even with his gift turned off.

When she reached him, neither one of them spoke at first, but she pointed to a large headstone near the trees. “Over there.”

She walked over and sat on the ground, leaning against the back of the headstone and thinking it poor manners to sit on the other side, on top of someone’s grave.

He followed and crouched down. “You don’t trust me,” he said finally, and from the pain in his voice, she knew what this had cost him to say.