Love is Darkness (A Valerie Dearborn Novel) (36 page)

Now that
was
irritating.

 
“Lucas, Lucas, come to me.” Her hands lifted to her breasts, lifting them as an offering to him and pinching her nipples. He didn't move.

Centuries ago he would have taken her roughly, goaded on her by her frenzied sexuality. She'd had no inhibitions with him, had sunk lower and
lower
to try and keep him.

“I have rescinded your year.”

Her eyes widened. “You won’t! Break your word to Margaret? Everyone will know you for a liar. You jeopardize your own throne if you kill me.”

“You are wanton and
cruel,
I give you one last choice to find a master who can contain you. But I will wait for you no longer. Come.” He held out his hand and she reached for him, making sure the hand she outstretched was the one that still glistened with her juices.

He ignored it, gathering her bony frame close to him, stretching his will over hers,
transporting
them from London to San Francisco in less than a minute.

He looked around at the houses and shops, the hills that were overlaid by streets. This city was a symbol of man subduing
mother nature
.

That never seemed to turn out well.
  
 
          
They stood in front of a building, the acrid scent of cigarettes and cigars, alcohol, human sweat and lust overlaid everything. Raucous calls from both men and women rolled out in greeting.

The door was guarded by a large human male. He nodded curtly at them and opened the door. It was dark inside and they went down a dark hallway lined with closed doors. The sounds of sex and violence drifted out from behind the doors as they made their way to the main theater.

The theater was filled with tables, lots of men and a smattering of women. It was Prohibition and everyone was drinking with abandon, enjoying alcohol while they had access to it. Lucas watched Marian respond to the crowd around her, losing herself to the beat and pulse of the
patron’s
 
hearts
and desires.

He went to a table right before the stage, a reserved sign and an opened bottle of wine set before them. He held out a chair for her and she sat, smoothing her hair and shifting agitatedly in her seat. After 600 years she still responded like a mortal- quick to anger and fuck, always looking to laugh or cry, desperately seeking
more
.

But Lucas knew the truth: eventually there was no more.
 

He heard a groan from the stage and looked up from the table to see the performance nearing the end. Lucas presumed it was almost over, he’d heard one of the men have a climax and the other one was close, if the amount of grunting and writhing was any indication.

Lucas looked back to the table. Hopefully the wine would be decent.

Marion reached out her hand and touched his, a beseeching look in her eyes. She shook her head a little and he saw tears in her eyes.

He flicked a glance to the stage, where the men had left,
a
lull before the next act began.

“So wise, Lucas.
Knowing everyone’s wants but your own. You bring me here and play me like a fiddle. I witnessed something beautiful on that stage. What did you see?”

“I have no interest in making you believe I desire something from you. I want nothing but your compliance.”

“What about my happiness?”

He slanted
her a
narrow glance.

“What about your happiness?” she said.

“My wants.
My happiness…. For someone who might not survive the evening you are very philosophical.”

She jerked back from him. “If I become as cold as you then I will allow you to kill me in truth!”

“Let us hope I am still around to see it. Look now. Here is your chance.”

Marion looked around her like something was about to jump out at her.

A few people shuffled out of the theater. Two men next to her rose and walked out, going towards a door that was held open by a woman wearing only a pair of lacy underwear.

Marion watched the men embrace and he knew she felt loneliness like a stake through the heart.

Then the crowd quieted and a woman came out onto the stage. She was fully dressed but wearing men's clothes, her shirt a crisp white and unbuttoned several buttons down, exposing a shadow of cleavage. She had short dark hair and was so severe with her hard gaze and bright red lips.

Marion stared at her, transfixed.

“Her name is Rachel,” Lucas said.

Such presence from a mere human was very unusual. Rachel stood still, waiting, until another woman came out, crawling forward on hands and knees. She was naked, large breasts swaying with each forward motion, blond hair loosed and flowing over her shoulders. She held a riding crop between her teeth, gaze fixed on Rachel.

She stopped at Rachel’s feet and sat backwards on her knees, face up tilted so that Rachel could take the crop, her face glazed with adoration and submission.

Rachel reached down a hand and pulled the blond to her feet. She didn't take the crop, but left it clenched between the woman’s teeth. Rachel made a shushing noise and Marion reacted to the voice, leaning forward slightly, eyes swaying closed.

One would think he had brought her to a hypnotist she was acting so entranced.

Rachel stroked her hands down the woman's shoulders to her breasts where she pinched the women's nipples cruelly. The blond shivered and made another muffled noise. Rachel snapped her fingers and a young man appeared at her side, carrying a velvet cushion. Marion
rose
from her seat a little, trying to see what was on the cushion.

“Nipple clamps and a
fleschette
,” Lucas explained patiently.

She darted a quick glance at him, looking slightly suspicious.

The show passed fairly quickly, small rivulets of blood sliding towards the edge of the stage and dripping to the floor as Rachel lightly cut into the naked, and now clamped, woman.

 
And now Rachel stood on the stage alone, the bloody woman led off to recover, the audience stunned to silence by the violent performance. She slapped the
fleschette
against her thigh and waited.

Her posture was casual, her attitude beyond confident as she waited. She glanced at Lucas and he inclined his head slightly. Rachel’s gaze turned to Marion, locked on her and for a moment their roles were reversed. Marion was the frightened human and Rachel was the Hunter who had captured her prey with her gaze.

Marion stood and walked to the stage, extended her hand and it was grasped loosely as the cruel woman jumped to the floor gracefully. She inclined her head, “I'm Rachel.”

Marion smiled and blushed, “Rachel. I'm Marion.”

Rachel cocked her head to the side and slid her hands into her pants pockets, watching expectantly.

They stood that way for a moment, silent and assessing and then Marion
laughed,
a sound so fresh and happy, that for the barest moment Lucas thought he felt a tiny twinge of envy.

Rachel smiled back and gestured towards the rooms where they could be alone. Marion dropped her hand and began to walk out of the main room, sashaying her hips in a bold invitation.

Rachel glanced at him again before nodding—a bargain struck. Then she followed Marion into one of the rooms.

Lucas glanced at his wine, decided to leave it and disappeared.

Chapter 15

Rome, Italy

The rustling sound of satin woke Valerie up. Her body tensed and she lay there like a surprised rabbit. She was sure she'd heard a noise, but it was dark, still the middle of the night and the door was locked.
Oh right, locked doors kept out no one truly dangerous.

Was it Jack? What time was it? She was too afraid for it to be Jack.

Had Lucas come back? An inappropriate and poorly timed image of him prowling up the bed to finish what they had started—
 

Someone was pacing in her room, not even attempting to be quiet.
Not Lucas
.

The smell of iron and rotting flowers was so strong she could taste it in the back of her throat, had to resist the urge to gag.
Vampire.

If she could get her hand under her pillow and find her gun without the vampire knowing, she
might
get out of this. She moved slowly, hand steady, eyes closed,
breath
even. This was a do or die moment. Either she was calm and got shit done or she was going to die.

A tinkling laugh came from the dark. Was Doris Day a vampire?

“Just get up sleepy head, I know you're awake. I've been making enough noise...” she paused theatrically and continued in a whisper, “to wake the dead!” She laughed at her own joke and Valerie felt her stomach cramp painfully in terror.
Marion
.

“Let me put you at ease. Your little gun is gone and if you scream I'll kill anyone who comes to help you.”

The light switched on and Valerie saw a vision of crimson before her. Marion’s auburn hair was piled on top of her head, the red gown long and made with yards and yards of satin as though she were going to a 19
^th
century opera performance instead of some crappy little hotel room in Italy.

Hysterically, she wondered if there was a height requirement for being a vampire. Marion, Lucas and Rachel, they were all so tall.

Marion smoothed her skirts demurely and settled herself into the same chair Lucas had occupied a few hours ago. She leaned back and paused, like a cat seeing a ghost. Her delicate nostrils flared. A peculiar look flashed across her face and then was gone.
Rage?
Jealousy?

Her expression settled on content happiness, which did nothing to ease the knot of fear in Val’s stomach. Marion ran her finger along the arm of the chair slowly,
then
wiped her hands against each other as though trying to brush off something distasteful. “Well, I see you have been a busy girl. Jack is here for you, Lucas has been...
right here
for you and now you have me. We are going on a little trip. Kind of like a girl's weekend, but with more blood.” She laughed again and Valerie pulled the covers tighter around her.

Marion waved a finger at Valerie as though she were talking to a naughty puppy, “Now you listen to me dearie, so long as you don't muck about you
should
come out of this alive. Though, Lord knows, you don't seem worth it. So hop out of bed and get dressed. Wouldn't it be dreadful if Jack showed up and I was
here
? What would he
do
? Can you imagine? He's got quite the death wish....I like that in a man.” She finished decisively.