In Memories We Fear (28 page)

But his words struck her as unfair, considering how determined he’d been to kill Maxim.

“You didn’t trust my judgment,” she answered, regretting her response instantly as his face closed up. Attacking Philip was never the answer, and she knew it. Talking was not going to fix this.

Let me in,
she flashed.
Let me show you how I’ve felt, what I’ve thought
.

She could feel his hesitation, and then his mind opened up. She rushed inside him, showing him her perspective from the night he’d first tried to take Maxim’s head, how Philip looked to her eyes, sounded in her ears. She showed him the dilemma of lying on that bed at the suite with her throat torn open, trying to decide what to do . . . and how difficult the final decision had been. She showed him scenes of her and Rose washing Maxim, and trying to trigger his ability to speak, all the while hoping Philip would understand later.

She showed Philip how much she feared his tendency to act first and ask questions later.

She showed him how much she’d missed him.

Suddenly, he pushed his own thoughts inside her mind. The onslaught was intense, and she had trouble absorbing the images and emotions at first, nearly falling over and catching herself on one hand. He started with the night Maxim had attacked her, showing her the same scenes from his own point of view. The scenes from his viewpoint were ugly, but she didn’t push him out. He saw Maxim as a feral, mad creature that had to be put down.

It was the only way.

Then Eleisha manipulated Philip several times and abandoned him, putting herself and Rose in danger, leaving him and Wade in limbo with nothing to do but worry. He bitterly resented that she’d chosen Maxim over him, and he was embarrassed by this resentment, but he couldn’t help it, and he didn’t know what the future would hold if Eleisha continued down this path....

“Stop,” she said, putting both hands on the ground.

He stopped.

She wondered how other couples might be able to bridge vast divisions if they could share viewpoints like this. She felt terrible, having seen herself through his eyes, but he’d seen himself through hers.

“I didn’t put Maxim before you,” she said softly. “But I put the mission before everything else. That won’t change.”

He was quiet for a while and then said, “You saw that memory in Robert. The one of . . . me when I was like Maxim.”

Each word sounded torn from his mouth. Why did he care so much about that? She didn’t. As far as she and Philip were concerned, only one of Robert’s memories mattered.

“I don’t care about that memory,” she whispered. “I care about the one I showed you. The one you won’t even talk about.”

He rocked back on the balls of his feet. “The memory you . . . is that why you’ve been . . . don’t you know I . . . ?”

Without warning, he moved forward and gripped the back of her head, pressing his mouth down against hers. The sensation was shocking, and she stiffened, but then her mind became tangled with his again, and she could see that he had thought about Robert’s memory, over and over while he sat on a couch for the past few nights.

He’d felt her stiffen, and he stopped.

“What’s wrong?”

Now he sounded uncertain, confused.

“Nothing.”

She reached up, kissing him this time. Neither one of them knew how to do this, but she wanted it more than anything else in that moment. She ran her hands down his chest, and he moaned. The sound was electrifying, and she kissed him harder, startled when he pressed his tongue into her mouth.

But she tried to respond, licking the tip of his tongue with her own. He pushed her back against the ground, and she could feel his weight on top of her, but she wasn’t afraid.

Turn on your gift
.

Almost instantly, the glow of his gift washed over and through her, making her want him even more. For the first time ever, she regretted her own gift. She didn’t want him to see her as helpless.

But he pushed her shirt up, running his hands up her back, touching her skin in a hungry rush, and she turned her gift on to join with his, only she channeled it and altered it slightly, focusing it upon how helpless she was without
him
.

On how much she needed him.

He moaned louder at that, pushing harder against her, moving his hands over her breasts, then down her lower back, over her hips. He pushed deeper with his tongue. She lost herself inside his gift as Jessenia had with Robert, letting hers combine with his, until a great release burst inside her mind, flowing rapidly down through her body until she jerked and gasped. Philip had stopped kissing her, and his teeth were tightly clenched. He had a hold of the back of her neck with one hand, with his temple pressed up against her cheekbone as his body jerked several times.

When the sensation finally faded, they stayed locked together for a while.

Then he lifted his head and looked down at her. His eyes were full of wonder.

 

Wade was growing more fascinated with Maxim by the moment—to the point where he was beginning to suffer guilt over having ever agreed with Philip that Maxim might be a hopeless case.

Not that Wade was ignoring Eleisha’s warnings. He was well aware that he was dealing with an unstable vampire. Somehow, Maxim looked smaller than Wade remembered. Maybe this was because he was wearing Philip’s too-large sweater and rolled-up pants?

“How did you get him talking?” Wade asked Rose quietly. He’d been inside Maxim’s mind back in London, and he’d seen no concept of language then.

“Eleisha forced his memories to surface. He started speaking soon after. She said he’d forgotten his own name.”

Wade looked around the shack. It was somewhat decrepit and long abandoned, but adequate for their needs, except for the temperature, which was cold. He wondered if the fireplace’s chimney was clear, and if he might start a fire. He looked through an open door at the back of the main room, spotting a mattress on the floor.

“Maxim,” he said, keeping his voice soft, “is that where you sleep?”

“Yes.”

Maxim walked into the bedroom and lay down in the center of the mattress, but the short way, across it, so that his head, torso, and thighs were on the mattress, and his feet stretched out over the floor. He pointed to the left side. “Leisha.” Then he pointed right. “Rose.”

Oh, they’d all been sharing the mattress. That made sense, but it still surprised Wade. Eleisha and Rose seemed to have accepted Maxim rather quickly—not that he blamed them.

Maxim motioned his hand around the room. “Safe. No sun.”

There were no windows in this room. Wade could almost not believe this was the same vampire from the streets of London. Rose was in the doorway, smiling at Maxim, and suddenly, Wade wanted to be alone with his new “patient” in spite of Eleisha’s concerns.

“Rose, would you excuse us for a little while?” he asked.

She had not heard what Eleisha said outside. “Of course.”

Wade sat down cross-legged on the mattress. Maxim sat up to face him, and Wade slipped inside his mind.

Maxim started slightly, and Wade wondered why, until he realized that his mental voice must sound so different from Eleisha’s inside Maxim’s thoughts.

I’m sorry. I should have warned you
.

The answer came clearly, and although Maxim’s speech patterns were still rudimentary, his mental voice was not hoarse like his spoken one.

He closed his eyes, and Wade locked into a memory of a fishing village in Hastings. The shack around him vanished as he was swept inside the image.

 

Rose didn’t wish to intrude, but she wanted to keep an eye on Wade. Once Wade launched into “a project,” he could be quite capable of losing perspective. She peered through the open door to see them both sitting cross-legged and sharing a memory. Good. The sooner Wade fully understood the situation, the better he could help restore some of Maxim’s former self.

Also, this had been a night of high emotions, and a little quiet time was more than welcome. She sank into a chair.

The air wavered, and Seamus appeared.

“Are they talking alone?” he asked, looking through the open door from a poor angle, so he couldn’t see the mattress.

“Sharing memories,” she answered.

He nodded.

“Is Eleisha all right?” she asked. Philip had almost lost control of himself earlier, and Rose never wished to see that again.

“I’d say so,” Seamus answered. “She’s kissing him and rolling on the ground.”

“Kissing him?” Rose’s mouth fell open, and she closed it quickly. “Are you sure? He’s not hurting her?”

“No, he’s not hurting her. I think she started it.” At the sight of Rose’s stunned face, Seamus shrugged. “Ah, Rose, I don’t know what she sees in him, but she’s not the first woman in history to use her body to solve a problem with a man, now, is she?”

His attitude irritated her. “I hardly think that’s what she’s doing,” Rose answered.

Again, he just shrugged.

 

Julian was on the verge of calling Mary back to the suite for some semblance of a report—anything—when she blinked back into the sitting room. Jasper had been watching television, and he stood up, hitting the off button on the remote.

But Julian could immediately tell something was wrong. He could always read Mary’s face, even when she didn’t burst into babbling the second she materialized.

Standing near the couch, close to Jasper, she crossed her arms and made a strange sound, almost as if she were breathing.

“Well?” Julian asked.

“They’re all together again, hiding in some old cemetery outside of Oxford.”

“Oxford? No, wait. Don’t bother with that. Has Philip killed the vampire?”

She shook her head. “It’s no good. The vamp isn’t so crazy anymore. Eleisha’s got him talking now, and Philip wouldn’t take the swing.”

While her word choices were confusing, the basic facts came through. Eleisha’s group was reunited, and Philip was back under her spell—and completely useless. Julian nearly closed his eyes. “What have you learned about the vampire himself? Is he new?”

Again, Mary shook her head. “No. Eleisha said he’s been alone for nearly two hundred years, and I think she meant a lot more
alone
than any of them. That’s probably why he went so fruit bat crackers. He’s been hiding from you someplace where he’s been really alone.”

Every muscle in Julian’s body tightened.

“Have you heard a name?” he asked quietly.

“Maxim. Does that mean anything to you?”

It didn’t.

Putting his fist to his mouth, he rolled all the things Mary was relating through his mind. First, he’d never heard of an elder named Maxim, and yet . . . one existed. Second, Eleisha had this elder speaking again, so every moment he spent with her group was a risk for Julian.

Jasper was looking back and forth between them expectantly.

“Mary, where did you find them again?” he asked.

“In an old cemetery outside Oxford. I can guide you.”

Jasper turned back to Julian. “Do we go?”

There was little choice now.

“Get your sword,” Julian ordered.

 

Wade pulled away from Maxim’s memories through sheer effort, choking and gasping for air. Maxim was lying on his side, gagging, when Rose ran into the bedroom.

She dropped down beside Maxim, stroking his back. “Shhhhhhhh. You’re in the bedroom again.”

Wade was still absorbing what he’d seen, all the way from Maxim’s childhood through Adalrik’s death. He hadn’t meant to go so far, but once they’d started, he’d just kept going.

“Oh my God,” he whispered.

Eleisha should have prepared him. Maxim had been a nineteenth-century literary protégé, and he’d watched Julian take off his maker’s head in their own library. Eleisha should have warned him. But then again . . . she’d just told Maxim to show Wade images of Brandon. She hadn’t known they’d go so far.

Maxim was still shaking.

“I’m so sorry,” Wade said. He seemed to be apologizing to Maxim a lot. “I didn’t mean to do that.”

Other thoughts passed unbidden through his mind. Eleisha had compared him to Brandon. Was that how she saw him? As a sexually ambiguous, kindhearted scholar? But he also fully realized what she’d meant when she told him Maxim had lost his gift. That aspect was more complicated than he’d expected.

He looked around. “How long were we out?”

“I don’t know,” Rose answered. “A few hours.”

“And Eleisha and Philip haven’t come in yet?” He stood up. “Did you check on them?

She looked away. “Seamus has.”

As if on cue, the front door opened, and Eleisha walked in. She was a mess, with dirt in her hair. But Wade didn’t have time to ponder this. Philip came in after her, and even from the bedroom Maxim could see him and started hissing, jumping up into a crouch.

“It’s okay; it’s okay,” Wade began saying, moving closer to keep Maxim from rushing to the door.

“Stay here,” Eleisha told Philip, and she hurried into the bedroom, dropping down beside Maxim. “It’s all right,” she said.

The back of her shirt and her jeans were smeared with dirt. Maxim’s dark eyes moved over her face in relief. “Leisha.”

“I’m here. I’m sorry I was so long. Did you show Brandon to Wade?”

He didn’t answer, so Wade said, “Yes, and a lot more.”

She looked at him. “How much?”

“Too much.”

She frowned at him, and then scooted across the mattress to lean against the wall, holding out her arms. “Maxim, come here. Let me show you pictures of the church.”

“Library?”

“Yes.”

Like a child, Maxim crawled over, sitting beside her, pressed up against her, and they both closed their eyes. Philip stood in the doorway. Wade expected him to react with his usual selfish jealousy.