My Immortal (24 page)

“If you want me, you’ll have to rape me.”

Alex made a sound, obviously offended by her frank speaking. “My dear, I have never forced a woman. Ever. What would be the point in that? The whole point is a woman’s capitulation, don’t you see? The moment that she throws over her values, what she thinks is right, her inhibitions and ridiculous prudery, and embraces what I’m offering, that is when I win. That is the glorious moment I desire, the moment I crave with you.”

Marley could see his logic in a sick sort of way. “You’re never going to get me to agree to walk over to a total stranger and give him oral sex because you asked me to. That’s just never going to happen, not in my lifetime, not while I’m sober or drunk or anything else.”

“I can see I haven’t explained myself well. My relationship with you will be different than mine with Lizzie. I give her what she wants, needs, and that is a firm hand, guiding her, telling her what to do. She enjoys the crudity of my dominance. That isn’t what you need or want, though, and I recognize that. You crave loyalty, stability, a nice home, and a faithful partner who worships you in bed. I can give you that, I can give you pleasure. I want more children, you want children.” He ran his thumb across her cheek, making her shudder. “I have only been married once, to Rosa and Marguerite’s mother, and I don’t take the institution lightly. You wouldn’t want for anything.”

Did he really expect her to just say yes? She was waiting for the moment his pleasant, rational coaxing turned ugly, because surely he didn’t expect her to just fling herself into his arms, even if he had managed to hit on exactly what she did want from a relationship. She shifted her face away from his touch, voice shaky, heart pounding wildly, but conviction as strong as ever. “You can’t give me what I want.”

He leaned forward, brushed his lips along the corner of her mouth, up her jaw, to her ear. “But I can take away that which you love the most.”

Here it came. She steeled herself, tried not to beg. “Leave Lizzie alone.”

“It’s so simple, Marley.” He pulled back, cupped her face with both of his smooth hands. “You come to me, willingly, and I release both Lizzie and Damien. A phone call and we can trot Lizzie off to rehab back home, and one word from me and Damien is released back to his mortality, free to do as he chooses. And you get everything you’ve ever wanted. A husband, children, a beautiful home, respect and love, sexual freedom.”

Marley tried to pull away, but her legs felt frozen, cemented to the floor, and her thoughts tumbled and turned in her mind. She managed to shake her head. “You mean sacrifice myself for Lizzie and Damien.” Isn’t that what she’d always done? Was this really so different?

“Sacrifice? What sacrifice?” He smiled, a gentle, passive smile, brushing her hair off her face. “Am I really so horrible to look at? Women usually respond well to me.”

His lips touched her, barely there, then gone again. His hands stroked her hair, and Marley shifted uneasily. It felt like his fingers were also sliding up her thighs, even though they were clearly buried in her hair, holding her head. Yet she felt it again, a soft caress across the front of her panties, and her body responded positively, sending forth a welcoming warmth.

Horrified, she shoved at the hands that weren’t there, trying to knock the sensation of the touch off her legs, her thighs, her sex.

“It’s not so different then, is it?” he said. “You can have with me what you have with Damien du Bourg.”

Marley wrenched herself back, rubbing at her temples, her arms, crossing her legs tightly. “Stop it!”

Visions leaped into her head, clear and sunny. Flashes of her in front of a large Dutch Colonial, planting fat, lush geraniums, three small kids playing in the yard. “Mommy, watch me!” the little girl called, before attempting a wobbly cartwheel. Marley felt the joy in her heart in the scene, smelled the freshly cut grass, knew the pride and love for the children, her children. Then she saw Lizzie, sitting on the porch of a tiny bungalow, her hair shorter, cheeks fuller, a little girl in her lap, a kind-looking older man leaning over and kissing Lizzie on the head. “How are my girls?” he asked, and Lizzie smiled, a happy, sane smile. Tears popped into Marley’s eyes, seeing her sister so content, and she raised her hand, thinking she could touch her, when she disappeared, and in her place, Marley saw Damien in front of Rosa de Montana. The house had been painted, the yard cleaned up, and there was a petite and very pretty Hispanic woman on his arm, both smiling as they watched two rough-and-tumble little boys run pell-mell down the path toward a playset.

Marley felt invisible arms wrap around her, holding her, stroking and soothing, as she watched the man she loved have everything he wanted, her sister well taken care of, happy. “No,” she said, but it was a whisper, lacking in fire and strength. “They can both have that with me.”

“No,” Alex said, his voice soft and sad. “No, they can’t, and you know that, Marley. They can only have it if you let them go, if you take what I offer. Don’t you see how happy everyone is? That’s within your power to give.”

She didn’t know how he did that, holding her, the very weight of his arms around her, yet he stood five feet away. And she hated that it felt comforting to have that feeling there, like a deep-seated relief to give up all her responsibilities, to let herself have happiness. Rubbing her temples, she saw Sebastian, a boy of ten, playing basketball with Rachel’s children, looking happy and well-adjusted. Watched Lizzie painting on a large canvas, her baby on her back in a pack. Marley had forgotten that once upon a time, in obliterated childhood dreams, Lizzie had wanted to be an artist.

And she saw herself, in bed with Alex, snuggled up together, laughing, their children bouncing at the bottom of the four-poster bed. They leaped off one by one, a girl, two boys, all with auburn hair, so real, so alive as they ran out of the bedroom door, and Marley saw herself reaching for Alex, saw herself whispering to him, stroking his chest, below his waist, felt her arousal, her desire for him, felt how she would never get tired of him, would never stop wanting him, would always be grateful for what he’d given her…

Marley snapped her head up, stared at the real Alex, heart beating wildly, fingers and feet ice cold. “You’re very cruel.”

“Why? Because I show you what you want, what I’m willing to give you?”

Because he tempted her, even when she knew it was wrong. “Where is God in that pretty picture you paint?”

Alex shook his head. “He isn’t there. There is only you, me, and bliss.”

The tears rolled down her cheeks as she fought an overwhelming wave of sorrow, an ache that threatened to swallow her. “I…I…” His touch was there again, like twelve hands touching her, holding, invading her in places he had no right to go. “I need to leave.” It was a trick, all just a horrible manipulation, she knew that, and she needed to get away from him.

“Okay,” he said soothingly. “Why don’t you go to the house, talk to your sister, take some time to think. Put these on before you go.”

Marley felt fabric brush against her, and when she looked down, she was wearing jeans over her thong, Damien’s T-shirt gone, replaced with a cute pink short-sleeved pointelle sweater. She reached up, felt her hair brushed and tidied into a bun.

“I’ll find you when you’re ready to talk,” he said.

He didn’t seem to require or expect anything else from her, so Marley backed out of the room, tripping over the door strip before she recovered herself, and slamming the door shut behind her.

She sucked in deep breaths and wiped her clammy forehead.

As she stumbled down the steps and headed toward the big house, she started to pray.

For her sister.

And for strength.

Damien made sure Marley went into the house before he jogged up the steps of the
garçonnier
and opened the door.

“What do you want with her?” he asked Rosa’s father, without preamble.

Alex, who Damien knew was really the demon Azazel, turned from the window and lifted an eyebrow. “With who?”

“Marley.”

“None of your damn business.”

Damien wasn’t that stupid. He had seen the look on Marley’s face, had seen her wearing clothes he’d never seen before, remembered what Rosa had said about his need to be punished. The father was going to use Marley to punish him, and if he succeeded, it would be a brutal one.

He couldn’t live with himself if this demon hurt Marley. But the very worst punishment would be that he
would
live, on and on and on, forever with his guilt and self-loathing, and Alex knew that.

“If this is about me, do whatever you need to do to me, just leave Marley out of it. She’s innocent in all of this. Leave her alone and you can do whatever you want to me. Kill me, steal my soul, make me a mindless slave, give me to Rosa as a sex servant, just please, let her go.”

“Well, that was very dramatic. Are we in an opera?” Alex rolled his eyes. “Though I imagine Rosa would have liked to have heard that bit about the sex servant offer. She has an adolescent crush on you and always has.”

Damien fought anger. He didn’t like Alex on principle, but he also didn’t like the way he stood, his posture arrogant yet effeminate. He reminded Damien of his drawing master in the late eighteenth century. Alex was a prig, just like Master Colbert. He just couldn’t bring himself to fear this man.

“Adolescent is a good word to describe Rosa.”

“You insult my daughter, after all she has done for you?”

Damien shrugged. He wasn’t sure Rosa had ever done him any favors.

“You’re still angry because she betrayed you with Marissabelle. That was over a hundred and seventy years ago. You need to learn forgiveness.”

“So what does Marissabelle have to do with any of this?”

“Oh, I promised her she could have her old body back, that luscious, youthful body she used to such advantage with lustful men, both young and old. All she had to do was help keep Marley here long enough for you to succumb to her charms and give up your asinine vow of celibacy. She did her part well, playing the sweet old lady and gaining Marley’s trust. I think she blew it tonight, though, letting her rage get the better of her.” He shook his head. “I’m rather annoyed about that. I think maybe I should take her back to sixty years old and let her age from there to ninety all over again. That would really infuriate her, wouldn’t it?”

Damien thought not even Anna deserved to relive her latter life over and over. “What do you want with Marley?”

“I want a loving wife, more children. Marley suits my requirements.”

Damien’s vision blurred, his hands twitched. The thought of Marley with this demon for eternity, serving him, made Damien dizzy with anger. His fist shot out, landed right on Alex’s elegant nose, cracking it. Raising his hands in front of his face, Damien waited for retaliation, waited for the provocation to throw another punch and pummel out all of his anger onto this man, this demon, who held his life in his hands.

But Alex just rubbed his nose carefully and said, “That was entirely unnecessary. And ridiculous, since it did not hurt in the least. I can’t feel human pain.”

But it had felt good nonetheless. Damien forced his anger into check. He needed to negotiate, not provoke. “What do you want? I’ll do anything. Just leave Marley alone. I’m serious. Please.”

“You’d do anything if I let Marley go? Would you bark like a dog?”

“Yes,” Damien said through gritted teeth. He honestly would do whatever it took, would swallow all of his pride and dignity. He couldn’t let Marley fall into Alex’s clutches, not Marley, who was better than the rest of them combined. Marley deserved her life, her choices, her loving husband and children that she wanted.

“Would you lick my boot?”

“Yes.”

“Would you die for her? Permanent, never to return, death?”

Damien didn’t even hesitate. “Yes.”

Alex frowned. “I should have known you were going to say that. You’ve been a gigantic pain in the ass since the day Rosa made you. I’m glad to finally be rid of you.”

And suddenly Damien was in the room alone.

Marley went into the house through the first floor and ran up in the interior steps, shoved and pushed her way through rooms, and found her sister splayed out on a couch, just like Alex had told her, a man between her legs. Lizzie’s eyes looked unfocused, and without her clothes on, Marley could see how gaunt she looked, how her tan had faded and her arms had lost muscle tone.

Frightened by Alex, hovering on the edge of hysteria, Marley reached out and yanked the guy off of Lizzie by the back of his hair. He let out a surprised “Hey” and turned as if to protest. But he took one look at her and clamped his mouth shut.

“Find someone else,” she told him, tugging on his hair to make her point clear. Never in her life had she resorted to violence, but if he didn’t take himself off somewhere far away from her, she was going to lose it.

Lizzie made sounds of protest, prying her eyes open. “Marley, what are you doing? He was just getting it right.”

Fortunately, the guy recognized she was on the edge, and he scooted around her and left the room without another word.

Marley pulled Lizzie up by her arm. “Come on. You’re coming with me.”

Lizzie made all sorts of protests, yanking at her arm, but she was too drunk or drugged to resist Marley’s iron grip, and she stumbled along behind. Marley pulled her into the hallway, and up the stairs to the room she’d been using. She let go of her sister, who made a big show of rubbing her arm.

“What the fuck is your problem?” Lizzie asked.

“We have to leave here, Lizzie, do you understand me? Alex is dangerous. We need to go home. Where’s your stuff?” She pulled her own suitcase out of the armoire and flicked it open. “You can wear something of mine, and we can stop for your stuff, or we can just forget about it. I’ll buy you new clothes.”

“What are you talking about?” Lizzie sat down on the bed, obviously not the least bit bothered by her nudity, and crossed her legs. “I’m not going anywhere. Alex is my soul mate. I love him, and he loves me. We’re getting married.”

Marley started folding her jeans and stacking them in her suitcase. “I’m not going to let you marry him. He’s not a nice guy.”

“You have no say in who I marry! You’re just jealous because you can’t get a guy to marry you.” Lizzie smirked. “Oh, I get it. Damien dumped you, didn’t he? He said all the right things, made you think he cared about you so you’d screw him, and now he’s dropped you. That’s why you’re in such a hurry to get out of here, and that’s why you’re jealous of my relationship with Alex.”

That would be the day. Marley strove for patience, knowing she needed Lizzie to cooperate. “I am not jealous, honestly, and if Alex was a nice guy, I’d be totally happy for you. I want you happy more than anything. And Damien did not dump me. We mutually decided it was best to go our separate ways. This has nothing to do with Damien. You’re in love with Alex and you’re not seeing the truth, sweetie.”

Lizzie snorted. “What truth is that?”

“That Alex is a jerk.” She couldn’t exactly say he was a demon, or Lizzie would think Marley had more of their mother in her than they’d realized.

Lizzie looked sullen, her legs swinging. “No, he’s not. You don’t know him like I do.”

“He hit on me twenty minutes ago, Lizzie. He said if I hooked up with him, he’d dump you.” A modified version of the truth, but the truth nonetheless. “I’m going to tell him no, and I think he’ll be angry. I really think he’s dangerous.”

Marley wasn’t prepared for Lizzie to hit her, and when she did, it was such a shock that Marley didn’t even block the blow. She took the full force of Lizzie’s hand across her cheek and temple, and stumbled, dropping the shirt she’d been folding. Pain burst out from her cheekbone, her eyes watering, her teeth slicing into her tongue from the jarring motion.

“Lizzie!” Marley gasped, the tinny taste of her own blood in her mouth. “What’s the matter with you?”

“I hate you!” Lizzie said, crying. “Everyone thinks you’re so goddamned perfect, Marley who never does anything wrong, who everyone likes, who everyone always told me I should be more like, and it’s all a big fat lie. You’re just a selfish, jealous bitch who can’t get a man and resents that I can. I don’t believe for one minute that Alex said anything more than hi to you and I’m sick to death that I’m the only one who ever sees what a manipulator you are. You fool everyone with that stupid helpless good girl act, but not me.”

“Lizzie…” Marley wasn’t sure what to say, was shocked to the core that her sister had such hateful feelings toward her. “I’m only trying to protect you.”

“I don’t need protecting. I can take care of myself, way better than you can, because you never see the obvious. You walk around all shy and insecure and you never seem to get that people adore you, they admire you, they think you’re a fucking angel, and while everyone thinks I’m fun, it’s you they really like. And you never even know it. Remember John Schwartz, your friend from college? When you’d bring him to our house for the weekend, I used to sneak into the family room where he slept and go down on him. Why do you think he always loved coming to our house? It wasn’t because Mom and Dad were such great company. But the ironic thing was that he never liked me, he just wanted the blow job. It was you he liked, you he wanted to spend time with, but your virgin act finally turned him off.”

Marley held her throbbing cheek and listened to her sister rant, felt her twist the knife inside her heart just a little more. She had loved John as a friend, wished he could have been more, but thought he wasn’t interested. “You did that to hurt me?”

Lizzie shrugged. “Yes. And because you never got that sex is what makes the world go around. Everyone thinks you’re so smart, but I’m the one who knows the score. You could have had John wrapped around your finger if you’d thrown a little pussy his way. You’ll never get ahead unless you figure out how to use that.”

“If I have to use sex, then I’ll gladly stay right where I am and never get ahead.” Marley started shoving T-shirts into the suitcase.

“Hey, guess who Sebastian’s father is?” Lizzie’s anger seemed to have abated and she was holding on to the bed post, swinging back and forth, her hair streaming around her.

Marley was really sure the answer wasn’t going to please her, but this might be the only opportunity to learn the truth, and for Sebastian’s sake, she needed to hear it. At some point, he had the right to know who his father was. “Who?” she managed to say, despite the fact that her tongue felt three sizes too big.

Lizzie gave her a perky smile. “Alan Daniels.”

Now that hurt. Marley blinked hard. Alan had been a lawyer she’d gone out with twice, an older guy, in his forties, who she had really, really liked. They’d been friends for several months, introduced through a criminal case he’d been prosecuting that involved one of her students as a witness. She had thought their dinners had gone well, but he’d stopped calling her, and had been extremely uncomfortable around her the next time she’d bumped into him. “Before or after I went out with him?” she asked, even though she already knew the answer.

“After your second date, of course. I was at your place and he dropped by to see if you wanted coffee. I invited him in, and an hour later, I was fucking his brains out. I knew it would bug you, and I was curious how an old guy would be with stamina and stuff. He loved it, believe me, but he pissed me off by talking about you afterward. How it had been a mistake, that he really liked you, thought you were smart and funny and sweet.” Lizzie made gagging motions. “Please. I told him to leave you alone or I’d tell him about us. I didn’t mean to get pregnant, that really was an accident.”

“You never told him about Sebastian, did you?”

“Hell, no. I don’t want a lawyer of all people screwing around in my life or my kid’s life.”

“But he’s entitled to know he has a child.”

Lizzie scoffed. “No, he isn’t. Serves him right for having sex with a woman he only knew for an hour.”

It was logic that made no sense to Marley. Lizzie had set out to entrap Alan…then somehow blamed him. Marley couldn’t listen anymore. Her sister was beyond being rational, and she couldn’t fix that, couldn’t change that standing in a room at Rosa de Montana at midnight.

“Okay, you’ve succeeded. You’ve hurt me. Though I don’t know why you felt like you had to compete with me. You’re the one who was always popular, with guys and girls.”

Lizzie sat back down on the bed, her expression indignant. “You are so in denial. You compete with me all the time. Always making me feel bad about Sebastian. And now you’ve gone and slept with a guy I told you I liked, and you’ve thrown yourself at the man I’m in love with. You don’t want me to be happy.”

Marley sighed, her heart shattered, her will gone. She couldn’t fight this, couldn’t change Lizzie. “Believe what you want. Stay here and do whatever you want, Lizzie. But tell me why you sent me Marie’s letter in that e-mail. What was the point in that?”

“Who’s Marie?” Lizzie shrugged. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Which made Marley wonder if it had been Rosa who’d attached the letter. But she didn’t see how that was possible.

“It was a confession, from Marie du Bourg. It was attached to your e-mail to me.”

“Oh, that.” Lizzie leaned back on the bed, bouncing again, tossing her head side to side, looking utterly disinterested. “Rosa thought it would help get you down here to visit. And she was right, wasn’t she?”

“How do you know Rosa?”

“She’s at all of Damien’s parties. Duh. You know, I never thought I could get into the girl-on-girl thing until she talked me into it.” Lizzie grinned. “Now I can’t believe what I’ve been missing out on. You should try it, Mar.”