The Dark Rising (4 page)

He was off me in an instant, rolling over onto his back. 

I watched him as he stared at the ceiling for several moments, resting his arm against his forehead.

“I can’t do this.”  He looked over at me, his breathing heavy.

“Why not?” I asked him blankly while I tried to catch my own breath.  “You’re my husband.  We’re married!  It’s your right.”

“Don’t you get it, Portia?  I’m not him!  I don’t love you!  I barely know you!” he said loudly, running his hand through his hair in frustration.

“You are him!” I argued back in aggravation.  “Everything you’ve just done is reminiscent of him!  You!  Every touch!  The way you look at me!  Even the spots you kiss on my body!  They are all Vance!  My Vance!  Listen to this!”

 I leaned over and grabbed his head between my hands, pouring all of the memories he’d ever given to me back into his mind through the mental link we shared.

He registered an expression of shock when I made the connection with him.  He struggled against me at first, before his mind finally relaxed and he began to really absorb the images and feelings I was sending. 

It was all there, his childhood, his parents, his magic, running away, meeting Marsha, and moving here.  I showed him his memories of joining the coven, seeing me for the first time, and how he was falling in love with me before I even knew he had an interest in me.  I gave him back the nights we had spent together, meeting in my dreams, and the binding spell.  Then I let him see how our world had changed with the explosion at the school, the near demon conversion, and killing the shape shifter. 

The withdrawals came next, attempting a cure, him leaving, me going to find him, the bloodlust, his proposal, his father, the demon kiss, and the kidnapping, followed by our wedding. 

My memories of our honeymoon poured out, and I began to notice his physical response to me, along with the rapid change in his breathing and the flush over his skin, when he witnessed the intensity of images. 

We were at the manor house now, reliving the poisonings, the pregnancy scare, and the Festival of Beltane ritual.  Flashes from our rescue, killing Brian, capturing Darcy, chasing after his mother, slipped from my head into his.  

Tears streaked down my face and I shuddered again over the moments in the stone circle, his attack, watching him being stabbed before he’d drunk Douglas’s blood.  Then he started to receive the Awakening right before his death, and I cried again over the memories of me doing CPR while I desperately tried to save him. 

He felt every emotion of mine when I showed him the burning of the demon corpses, and then bringing him home, burying him, only to find him alive again.

I didn’t hold back one single moment of our lives together.  I knew some of the memories he’d be able to experience from his own point of view, because they were previous ones he’d given me, but the rest were all mine.

When I was finished, I collapsed back onto my side, breaking the mental connection but not taking my eyes off of him.  “I’m sorry to assault you this way,” I apologized, sighing.  “I just wanted you help you to understand.”

 I waited for his reaction, watching while he tried to process the massive amount of information I’d dumped into him.  After several minutes, when he hadn’t made any comment, I moved off the bed and went over to the dresser to get my pajamas.

Pulling out a tank top and boxers, I straighten and turned to find him standing behind me.

He reached out to place a hand gently on each of my arms and he looked softly into my eyes.

“I’m sorry for your loss,” he said sincerely, repeating the same words I’d heard a hundred times over the last few days, only it was more ironic coming from him.  “And I’m sorry I don’t remember.   You giving me these things does help me to understand.”      

“Really?” I asked, feeling the hope swell larger.

“Yes.  Those memories and emotions that came from him … I could relate to them all, just the way he did.”

“They’re your emotions.  You are him,” I corrected him, wondering if I was fighting a losing battle.

He sighed while he stared back at me, his red eyes still present and glowing.  “That may be, but I still don’t feel like him,” he replied.  “It is easier for me to refer to him this way.  Do you understand?”

I nodded, my throat clenched, feeling like I was losing him all over again.

“I can say this with a certainty though,” he paused, reaching out to run a hand over my hair and down my back. “He loved you more than anything else in his life.”

“I know,” I whispered in a choked voice.

“And you felt the same way about him,” he added, looking into my tear filled eyes.

I nodded, unable to speak.

“Let me make a deal with you.”  He continued to run his hand over my hair.

“What kind of deal?” I asked.

“I’ll do my best to be sensitive to your situation, if you’ll do the same for me.  I don’t want to be forced to be someone I’m not.  I admit I’m intrigued about where a relationship with you would go.  Obviously there’s a strong attraction between us.  Whether or not it’s this body remembering things I can’t, I’m unsure, but I’m willing to take this one step at a time, if you are.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m asking you to let me get to know you as me, at least the new me.  I’ve seen you through his memories and yours, but I want to get to know you myself, and if that happens to lead somewhere, then great.  If it doesn’t … well, we’ll address that if we come to it.  Do you think you can live with this arrangement?”  He gave me a concerned look.

“Absolutely,” I breathed, knowing I’d do anything he asked as long as he was willing to give me—us, a chance.

“To new memories then?”   He bent to lean his forehead against mine like he used to.

“To new memories,” I agreed with a smile.

He lifted his head to place a chaste kiss on my brow, before he released me, stepping back away from me.

“So where do you want me to sleep tonight?” he asked and his eyes trailed over the bed before moving around the room.

“Well, you’re welcome to climb in with me,” I replied, secretly wishing he would.  “But if you think it’d make you uncomfortable, I could make up a place for you on the sofa downstairs.  I’d put you in the guest room, but your mom’s in there now.”

He mulled things over for a minute.  “How about we compromise,” he suggested.

“All right, what would you like to do?”  My heart still beat a rapid staccato at the idea of being next to him. 

“I want to be in here with you, but I’ll sleep next to your bed on the floor instead.  Sound okay?”

I smiled at him, glad he wanted to stay with me.  “Sounds uncomfortable for you,” I replied.

He shrugged with a grin.  “I’d say it’s a step up from a coffin.”

I laughed out loud.  “I would imagine that’s true,” I responded, and I went over to my closet to pull out some extra bedding.

He grabbed a pillow off my bed and tossed it on the floor while I got him a couple of blankets.  He took them and arranged himself a place, before lying down and covering up.

“See?  It’s perfect.”  He smiled up at me, placing his arms back behind his head.

It is perfect,
I thought.  I was just happy to see him here.

I stepped over him to crawl into my own spot, waving a hand toward the light switch.  The room went dark, only a soft pale glow coming in the window from the moon outside.

The sound of him chuckling reached my ears.  “That was cool,” he said.  “Can I try?”

“Be my guest,” I answered, laughing at the irony that one of the most powerful warlocks in the world would find the simple act of turning off a light as being something cool.

“How do I do it?” he asked.

“Use the memories I gave you,” I suggested, thinking this might be the best way for him to remember how to use his magic.

He was quiet for a few seconds and then I heard his fingers snap together.  The light popped back on.

He glanced up at me and a huge boyish grin crossed his face.  “That was fun,” he said, and I laughed at him.

“I’m glad you enjoyed it,” I replied, and I couldn’t help letting my eyes wash over his beautiful masculine form.

He noticed my look instantly, and I watched the grin slide slowly away to be replaced by something else … desire.

I swallowed hard as he stared back at me for several long moments and I had to remind myself to breathe.

“Guess I should turn off the light,” he spoke finally, breaking the spell between us.

Nodding, I turned and snuggled into my pillow, my mind drifting over the events of the day.

He flipped the light out once more.  “Portia?” he spoke into the quiet night.

“Yes?” I answered him, my eyes popping open at the sound of his rich timbered voice.

“Thank you for bringing me back with you.”

“You’re welcome.”  I smiled, closing my eyes again, thinking maybe tonight, for once, my dreams wouldn’t be so tortured.

I woke up with anticipation for the new day, rolling over in bed to look at the floor where I’d last seen Vance lying on his blanket.

“Good morning,” I said with a smile, only to discover he wasn’t there.  There was no trace of his bedding and both of my pillows were on the bed.

A streak of fear shot through me and I jumped up.  Was I losing my mind?  Had it all been a dream?

“Vance?” I called, rushing to the bathroom door.  I knocked.  No answer.  I turned the handle and peered inside.  No Vance.

I ran through my bedroom and hurried out.

“Vance?” I yelled down from the top of the stairs, not caring if everyone in the house thought I was hysterical.

“I’m in the kitchen!” his voice floated back to me.

Relief flooded through me as I placed a hand over my heart.  He was still here.  It hadn’t been a dream.  I hurried down the steps, around the corner and into the kitchen, only to be surprised at the sight that greeted me.

Krista and Vance were making breakfast together, and they were smiling and laughing about something.

“Good morning!” Vance said, as I walked up next to him.  “Did you sleep well?”

“I did, thank you.  I experienced a moment of nervousness though when I woke up and you were gone.”

He looked surprised.  “I’m sorry.  I didn’t mean to worry you.  I had some trouble sleeping so I got up early and came downstairs.  I found my mom down here awake also.”

“Your mom?” I asked, realizing he’d used words my Vance would have.

“Yeah,” he smiled.  “She and I have been up for quite a while.  We’ve had a very good mother and son visit this morning, haven’t we Mom?”  He turned from the scrambled eggs he was stirring to wrap an arm around her shoulders and give her a squeeze.

Krista responded with a wide grin and placed a peck on his cheek.  “Yes we did, and it was wonderful!”  She positively glowed over the contact with him.

I felt like I’d gone to sleep and awaken in the twilight zone.  I must’ve had a puzzled expression as I watched them, because they both turned to glance at me and busted up laughing.

“Come sit down, Portia,” Krista said.  “I’ll tell you all about our discussion.”

I stared at Vance for a moment longer before I moved to join her at the table.  She reached out to grasp my hand.

“Thank you for giving your memories to Vance,” she began.  “I think they’ll really help him with his transition.  Even though he can’t remember things, it at least gives him memories to deal with,” she explained.  “Vance asked me to tell him about his childhood this morning.  I had so much fun going back over my memories of a happier time.  He was able to identify with things because of what you had given him.”

“Where are the dishes?” Vance interrupted, and he began to randomly open cupboards.

“Second door on the right,” I said absently, watching him move.

He quickly produced three plates and brought them to us, setting a place for him as well, before he carried the pan of eggs over and dished out servings.  He went back to the stove to get the bacon and sausage before he grabbed a small saucer laden with several pieces of toast, placing it in the middle of the table.

I pondered his actions and how comfortable he appeared to be with things.  Feeling the need to help out, I went to the silverware drawer to get utensils for all of us, while Krista went to the fridge to get the milk.

Vance came next to me, reaching above me to grab some glasses.  He gave me a quick grin when he leaned in and I realized he seemed happy.  I followed him back to the table, where he pulled my chair out for me, and he pushed me in before sitting down.

“You seem surprisingly normal this morning,” I said, giving him a quizzical look.

He chuckled at my comment and I relished the sound.  “Does that bother you?”  He took a bite of his food.

“No.  It just confuses me,” I replied, still watching him.

He smiled at me before he reached out with his hand to pat my leg.  “I’m fine,” he said.  “You don’t need to worry.”

He seemed so much like himself, I was beginning to wonder if he had regained his memory and wasn’t telling me.

“Aren’t you hungry?” he asked, nodding toward my plate.  “We made this breakfast because we wanted to surprise you.”

I glanced back to my dish and dutifully picked up a fork, but I had to turn to look at him one more time.

“What?”

“Do you remember things?” I asked him point blank.

He shook his head.  “No, but the memories you shared are resonating with me.  When I saw Krista this morning something in me recognized her as my mom.  I’m sure it’s because I experienced the images you showed me from my own point of view.”   He paused for a second.  “I don’t know how to explain.  I just feel … less lost.”

I stared at him. 
So he noticed feelings for his mother, could he feel anything for me too?
  The questions rolled around in my mind.  I wanted to ask him, but I didn’t want to press him.

“Would you like to go for a motorcycle ride after breakfast?” he asked before he continued eating.

“That sounds nice,” I said both surprised and happy by the request.