Moonless (34 page)

89

Sacrifice

There was silence for a long time. Nothing but silence.

***

Alexia opened her eyes. Beige walls registered and lace-curtained windows.

She turned her head. Pain exploded through her brain. Something was wrong. She remembered that much, but the rest blurred in a haze.

Her focus landed on the bureau, the same as always, but dusty.

How odd.

She looked the other direction. A chair stood next to the bed, fingers clasped about her own. An amazing thrill coursed through the connection, speeding her heart.

Ginger locks hung, curtaining a mournful countenance and silent moving lips.

She took a deep breath and white agony burst behind her eyes. Yes, something had gone extremely wrong inside her, but it didn’t matter. Nothing did really. He was here!

Kiren’s lashes fluttered upward, revealing the hopeful blue of the heavens right before sunrise.

“Alexia!” He brushed the hair from her forehead. She tried to speak, but he pressed his fingers to her lips. “You are alive!” His arms encircled her.

A dull ache pulsed in her shoulder, and a throb tweaked up from her ankle, but they compared little to her head. It felt like a rake had been drawn through her brain.

He kissed her twice gently. She met his eyes questioningly.

His gaze turned down. “I cannot heal it.”

Heal it? Who cared? He’d survived. She’d survived. They were together!

“You need rest. You still do.” He brushed her cheek. “You should sleep.”

But she didn’t want to! She had him.

He tucked a blanket up around her neck, kissing her eyelids, and as he did they became extremely heavy. Maybe she did want to sleep after all.

***

When Alexia roused again, the chair stood vacant. She’d only been conscious a moment when the door fell back and in shuffled Father. His head drooped, dark circles about his eyes.

He gasped. “You are awake!”

She smiled. Even that hurt.

“Child!” He arrived at her side in a single stride, honest tears spilling over his cheeks. “I love you, Alexia!”

He placed a kiss on her forehead. A tear fell and cleared a tickling path down her temple. He wiped it up quickly and sat, taking her face in his hands.

“Father . . .” She groaned as the enunciation sparked more pain.

“Do not worry now, child. You are safe. I will protect you from,” and his eyes turned hard, “everything.”

What happened to her? What couldn’t Kiren heal? Had she been attacked by the Soulless? Broken by them? Permanently damaged? And what about—

“Miles?” She recalled that last instant, his fierce grip on her hand, the square set of his jaw against a nightmare foe.

Father’s brows went up. “You will see him soon enough, as soon as it is proper.”

Relief. The Soulless did not take him! But someone she loved had not been so lucky.

“Sarah?” she breathed.

Father’s mouth tightened. “Gone.”

Tears started. Her aunt’s face appeared in her mind, terror in her olive eyes as John dragged her away, as she reached back, begging for help.

Father cleared his throat, dabbing at her cheeks. “It will be all right. Hush now.”

She scowled at him. All right? Her aunt was gone, destroyed, and somehow he thought it would be all right? He was the embodiment of all things false in her life—he and his lies.

She glared at the wall. “I want Kiren.”

Father stiffened. He rose and backed away, face contorting with rage. He turned and exited the room, pulling the door shut after him.

***

Over the next many days Alexia thought about Sarah, how she had failed her. All the time, Father or Kiren—or both—remained, holding her hand, speaking to her. They spoke to one another when they didn’t think she was awake.

“We overlooked one fatality,” Kiren’s clear voice echoed.

Father cursed. “Seven now? How could we have missed one? We cleared the perimeter!”

“They hid the body under a hedge. Do not blame yourself.”

“How can you say that?” Father’s protest rose. “I am the one that brought this on us! If I had not . . . Dana should never have come here!”

Kiren cut him off impatiently. “There are a number of decisions that determined this outcome. No one is to blame but the assassins.”

Father pounded the wall, swearing loudly and groaning. “Did they identify the body?”

“Maurine.”

Alexia swallowed that one, trying not to think of her dear nanny.

Her father cursed again, his voice cracking. “We have been safe here so long. If you left her alone, they never would have come here!”

“Charles, it is not me.”

“Well, it is not her! She does not deserve to be one of you—and no one is destined to fall in love with . . . with a . . . ! You, you cannot have her!”

Electricity charged the air. She tensed, readying for the conflict, biting back the tears that sought escape. Why couldn’t they simply resolve their differences?

“Have you decided what to tell your servants?” Kiren asked.

Father groaned. “That we were attacked by wolves? Vagabonds? Gypsies? None of it makes sense. And now that Alexia has been seen—”

“My aids can silence them. They have done it before.” Kiren sighed. “Pick a story, Charles, and we will make it true. You cannot keep them caged much longer without trouble.”

She cringed.

Father tromped across the floor. “Bah! It has only been a week.”

She couldn’t believe her ears.

“Blame it on robbers,” he decided at last. “A whole band of them.” A momentary hush lapsed before he spoke again. “It is wrong you know, tampering with them. You will not, you will not touch my memory!”

“No.”

“And Alexia? Is that why she thinks she loves you—because you made her believe it? I will not allow you to—she is staying right here, do you understand me? You will not take her away from me!”

Another pause.

“You should compensate the families of those who have passed.” Kiren’s voice. “If you need help—”

“I have sufficient.”

“Very well.”

***

Seven—seven lost—seven dead because of her! Tragedy did follow her kind. Father never should have gone near Dana. She never should have been born!

Her sleep was empty, dreamless for the first time. It seemed like all she did, all she could manage to do.

Kiren’s leg healed from the bullet wound. The speed of his mending left them all astonished: two weeks. He insisted his injury still ached, that it always would, but he walked without a limp and hid any signs of distress.

Miles visited—at last!

“Hello.” He hovered at the door, gray eyes glittering. Kiren straightened in his seat.

“Hello,” Alexia greeted, relieved that the effort didn’t bring on more pain.

“You were really great, Alexia.” He neared. “I can’t tell you . . .” He hesitated. “You saved me.”

She glanced at both of them, waiting for an explanation. “How?”

Kiren nodded and Miles knelt, taking her hand. “I nearly gave in. I didn’t think . . .” The steadiness of his fingers washed away the last nightmarish recollection she had of him. She gasped as his memory burst over her.

The girl lay unconscious at his feet. Creatures circled, hissing.

“Miles,” they called. “Miles.”

He dove into their shared consciousness. Their hunger moaned in his belly. Their torment tore at his brain. Their pain throbbed through his muscles. He was drowning.

A new emotion pulsed through their collective veins. Hope?

Somewhere through the throng of pressing appetites, an awareness recognized that this child below him, endowed with the power to manipulate time, might ultimately bring the end to their suffering. She alone could return, could prevent, could stop their curse.

Miles gasped. No! It would kill her. He would not let them have her. He forced himself into their minds, all of them—exposing his presence, erasing her from their vision . . .

He exhaled, releasing her from the vision. “You gave me strength. You would have given your life for me.” He licked his lips, preparing to continue, but Kiren cleared his throat. Miles looked down, his grip loosening on her hand. He stood. “Goodbye, Alexia.”

“Goodbye?”

He smiled sadly and exited.

Kiren seized the hand Miles had released, studying it disquietingly. She watched until she could stand it no longer. At her impatient jerk, he looked up.

“I have never witnessed it before.” He breathed at last. “Yours is the rarest of gifts.” His fingers slid over her cheek, causing her to shiver. “The state I found you in, it was like, like the night you were born.” He hesitated.

She curled a hand over his, drawing him back to her. “My mother, I know.”

Puzzlement filled his marvelous eyes. “How?”

“I met her in the
absence of time
.” She smiled, wincing. He blinked back at her. “And I will see her again, soon.” She attempted to shift off her sore shoulder and groaned.

As he rubbed the joint, a flood of warmth softened the muscles. “When I tried to heal you I came across blistered wounds on the brain, abrasions that were ripe and ready to burst. I think you almost killed yourself.”

She gawked.

“It has been known to happen, persons with extreme abilities who push themselves too far too fast. These things develop with time, like strengthening a muscle.” He leaned in, his pendant pressing at the front of his shirt. “Please, Alexia, promise me you will not do that again?”

She nodded. Sparks of pain shot from the back of her skull, but they did not blind her. “What is it?” She pointed. “When you used it against the Soulless it felt like
redemption
.”

He straightened up, folding his arms. “Alexia, I cannot . . .” She waited for him to finish, but he cleared his throat, eyes flitting to the exit. “Your father will be here soon.”

She frowned. Another forbidden subject.

He grunted and took her hands. “It works, that is all that matters. They step into the dynamic willingly and leave their tortured corpses behind.”

“But the amulet—?”

His head shook, eyes lowering.

She stored that one on her mental shelf for future investigation. “What task have you sent Miles off to?”

His eyes closed.

“Kiren?”

His fingers squeezed over hers. “He let the taint take him.”

Horror swelled through her. “He what?” She pushed off her mattress, forcing her way through the black spots. “What happened to
him
?”

“In exchange for you, he gave them a link to his own mind. It is the only way he could have shaded you from them, and now . . .”

“Now what?”

He grimaced. “They will chase him every moonless night. If captured, all the secrets he comprehends will be at their fingertips. The things he perceives inadvertently through other’s minds will aid their hunt, fuel their determination.”

Tightness seized her throat. “There is no way to—?”

His head was shaking. “His memories will be taken, but he can no longer serve under me.”

She swallowed, fresh tears emerging. She reached to brush them away, but he beat her. Miles gave up his home for her? He gave up Kiren, Nelly, Edward, Ethel, his barn, his
life
for her? 

A sob escaped. Kiren lifted her gently against his chest, pressing his lips to her hair.

She moaned. “It is not fair! This should not have happened. Send me away instead!”

Father entered. His face contorted first in disbelief, then in rage. He pushed Kiren away and took his place, holding her while she wept over what she’d done.

The world was all wrong: The deaths. The suffering. The loss. The sacrifices. Father’s arms about her rather than Kiren’s. She wanted to wipe history clean and start again. Unable to battle the sorrow eating her soul, she sank into silence.

90

Flower

Alexia found it difficult to smile, even as Kiren did his best to renew her spirits. Being back on her feet, albeit limitedly, helped. She welcomed Edward and Ethel’s visits as they took her on short walks, telling her stories that won her first true laughter in weeks.

Edward licked his lips. “It was only my second mission on the master’s behalf and this bloke I sought had the uncanny ability to put one to sleep while still on their feet. As it happened, he was not too keen on being brought in for questioning. I recall speaking with him briefly and then I woke in front of Westminster Abbey wearing nothing but my undergarments.”

At the image of this dignified fellow in the heart of London clad only in his unmentionables, Alexia burst into laughter, quickly clamping both hands over her mouth. 

Edward chuckled with her. “Spent the better part of a week trying to clean it out of people’s memories, and to this day I refuse to step foot in London.”

“He is a stubborn one,” Ethel agreed, slipping her fingers about the gentleman’s arm. His clear eyes turned on the woman, filled with adoration.

The connection warmed Alexia’s heart. There were still good things in the world, even within the dangerous realms of the Passionate.

***

Dressed as a servant, Alexia strolled through the gardens with Father. He had explained his devotion toward her by the similarity she bore to his late daughter. The help had accepted his story readily. Edward made it so.

Though she loved him as a brother or uncle, Edward’s gift left an uneasy twist in the pit of her stomach. He took away the terror. Not hers. Not Father’s. She felt strange when looking into the servant’s eyes, knowing how their lives could so easily have been forfeit as they chattered timidly about the band of thieves Edward had fabricated.

Would it be better if she
could
forget? This was what it meant to be one of the Passionate, to possess secrets her human counterparts did not want any part of. How had Dana done it?

She sighed.

“Are you tired?” Father halted. “Do I need to take you back in?”

“No, no, I—” She took a deep breath. No more postponing it, she had to tell him. “I dreamed of her.”

“Who, Alexia?”

“Dana.”

His brow crinkled. Muscles tightened beneath her hand where it lay in the crook of his arm.

“She never blamed you—f-for how things turned out.”

He stared far away, a light glaze of moisture forming at the corner of his eye.

“She truly loves you.”

He turned so she couldn’t see the grief crinkling his brow.

“But it was more than a dream. She wants you to know.”

He reached for support and missed the rowan trunk. She slid to his side and steadied him. She attributed his weakness to a recent zeal for any remedy that might drown out the losses—mostly found at the bottom of a bottle.

“Dana knew she would die.” She gazed up at him.

His brows rose in confession.

“But she did not fear. She gave herself for a cause, for me. She, she wishes you not to be sad, just as,” here it came, “as I do not wish you to be sad.”

His gaze sharpened, face reddening. “He cannot have you.”

She went to protest.

“No.”

She glared back. “What did you mean—when you said no one is
destined
to fall in love?”

He flinched. “You heard that?”

“I could not help but hear it when it was being shouted over my bed.”

He looked away. “It is nonsense.”

“Do not lie to me, Father.”

His dark eyes flashed dangerously. Fists tightened. “How did she know? How could she possibly know?”

“You want the truth?”

“No.” A quiet moment passed. “Maybe.”

“She dreamed the future, like me.”

He cringed. She felt bad for telling him, like she’d betrayed a deep family secret, like he should never know his
Passionate
mistress possessed abilities, even if her blood flowed through his daughter.

He straightened up. “How did you meet him?”

“Are you referring to before or after you requested he remove all my memories of him?”

Father huffed.

“He saved my life.” She pulled him around to look at her. “And yours.”

His grimace tightened. “So that entitles him to your hand?”

“He came to protect me. Nothing more.”

“Nothing more!” Red plumed through his face, his nostrils flaring. “It is never that simple with them! They see what they want and they take it. He bewitched you so you would never accept a decent prospect, and then he deliberately intervened so he could validate taking you for his own!”

“What if I detested all of those pigs who offered themselves to me?” she shot back.

“Did you detest Rupert?”

She rocked back. Poor, dear Rupert, who to this very hour believed her dead . . .

“They are conniving, manipulative, irresistible and relentless—especially him!”

“Is that how you felt about
her
?”

He quieted. They both knew what it meant to be invariably drawn to the Passionate, even when logic and fairer prospects loomed.

“If you knew,” she barely voiced, “knew I would love him, then why did you try to keep him from me?”

“You should not have any part of this insanity!” He turned her to him, brows low. “You should have the chance to live life without their curse.”

“But you—”

“Forget what I have done or not done!” He caught her cheeks. “This is your life, your future.”

“How can I forget when it is a part of who I am?”

“It is not
who
you are.” His face crumpled. “I have fought too hard and too long to secure you a bright prospect. It is foolishness to wish away everything because of a beautiful face.”

“Is that how you see Dana? A beautiful face? Nothing more?”

He stammered for a comeback.

“I have gifts, Father, rare talents—you have seen them! You
know
I am different.” She worked to keep her voice steady. “I am a part of something bigger.”

“We are not going to discuss—”

“What I am?”

“You are all I have left!”

Her heart ached for him. They stood watching one another a long moment as the ideas settled between them.

She came down apologetically. “And I will always be your daughter. I love you, Father, but he is my future.”

He paced angrily.

“And despite what you believe, he tried to stay away from me—for the same reasons you kept him at bay.”

“Hah! Did he now?”

“Dana told you I would fall in love with him?”

He faced her, dark eyes a brewing storm. “No one is destined—”

“Because you could not have your precious Dana?”

“That is enough, Alexia!”

“Yes, it is.” She had spoken her mind. “My place is with him, and if you cannot accept that then we will occupy two separate worlds.” She stormed into the garden.

***

Her head felt numb from thinking and not thinking. She didn’t know which was worse, trying to keep the mental strain at bay or pondering over all that had happened. She sat under her favorite tree letting the warm summer wind blow by her, watching the clouds and trying to avoid any greater cognition.

She couldn’t help the guilt over Sarah, over Miles. She had failed them both, and now they’d lost all they loved—because of her—because she had to fall in love and forget everything but herself.

“Hello there.”

She looked up and sucked in a breath at Kiren’s stunning eyes.

“May I join you?”

“Please.”

He sat and slipped an arm around her waist, pulling her close. Exhaling loudly, he smiled at her. “How are you feeling today?”

She laid her head against his chest. “Wonderful.”

A chuckle escaped him. “And your head?”

“Better.”

He kissed her through her curls, settling his cheek against them. “What are you thinking about?”

“Nothing.”

“You looked so sad.”

She swallowed back the sorrow for Sarah, for Miles, nestling closer.

His brow crinkled. “You have made so many sacrifices.”

“No.” She turned on him. “I have not made a single one. You, your friends, my family, they are the ones who suffer.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Miles, Sarah, the servants . . . If I had not chosen this path—”

He grunted impatiently. “We are all a part of this dynamic. Somehow you seem to think you could prevent the way our lives unfold, as if you are to blame.” His admonishing frown persisted. “Remember, Sarah and Miles are Passionate. They face the same odds as you, and they made their own decisions.”

“But if not for me—”

“I would be a much different person.” His arms tightened around her, frown softening. “Never forget that. You have given me something I never dreamed to find.”

“Trouble?”

He chuckled. “Hope.”

She squeezed him back, warmed by the tenderness, the optimism, the vulnerability in his tremor. “How is it possible you’ve survived centuries, and yet a mere bullet could do you in?”

His soft laugh warmed her. “It would take more than a
mere bullet
to keep me from your side.”

She blushed.

“But I suppose you have been the tiniest bit of a distraction.” Fingers tickled up her side. “I can assure you, I will not let my guard down again.” His gaze lowered, brows furrowing. “It nearly cost us both everything.”

She tipped his chin upward, meeting the crisp azure sky of his gaze. “If I am not entitled to bear the blame, then neither are you.”

He nodded. They watched the clouds for a time, and she listened to his heart, grateful it beat, grateful at least he believed some good had come about by her existence.

Something had been bothering her for a time now, and she hadn’t dared address it in the presence of anyone else. “Miles did not know your name. Why? And who are you truly?”

His smile slipped away. “I am the man who loves you.”

She shifted to face him. “But where do you come from? Who are your parents? Who else knows your true name?”

Pain creased his brow. His mouth worked, the ease and assurance in his demeanor replaced with something primal and terrified.

Startled, she wrapped her arms around him. “Hush, there is no need to tell me now.”

He exhaled. “I want to.”

“When you are ready.” She settled against his chest. “How soon will you return home with the others?”

He stilled.

“Kiren?”

His eyes harbored gloomy clouds. He looked away. “You are my home.”

“Yes, but what about Ethel, Edward, and Lester?”

“They are happy here.”

She laughed. “Happy? I swear the help are driving them mad!”

He chuckled. “Perhaps some.”

“What about Miles?”

He stiffened.

“Has he . . .” She brushed her palm across the grass. “Has he gone?”

He nodded.

She watched a butterfly flit past and land on a lazy blossom, struggling not to be sad. “Where?”

“He will find his own way.” He leaned back. “I have given him all the necessary tools.”

“But I will never see him again?”

He went to answer and stopped. His eyes turned to the ground. “Maybe.” And then quietly to himself, “Maybe.”

They sat a long moment, gazing at puffs of white trailing through the sky. His encircling arms made her only too conscious of his nearness.

“I am sorry to have come between you and him,” she whispered.

“Alexia, you did not come between us.” His gaze lowered to hers. “Each life that touches ours leaves an eternal impression. He is a part of us, just as we will always be a part of him.” His incredible eyes penetrated hers, washing away any resistance like waves lapping the shore. “Perhaps his road will lead back home, and perhaps it will lead some place better. Change is a part of our existence, a good part. I have never been so certain of that—never until you entered my world.”

She nodded, heart fluttering.

His lips came down. She met them, pleased by how they enveloped her own. His fingers stroked through her locks, settling her gently in the grass as he persisted. She couldn’t escape him, didn’t want to. Part of her realized she should be frightened by how intensely his mouth pressed hers.

He pulled away, propping next to her on one elbow, staring into her eyes, breathing heavily. She reached for him but he caught her fingers.

“You gave up so much for me, your father, Sarah, your home. You nearly gave your life.”