To Curse the Darkness (9 page)

“You never did that with me or with Marc, did you? Not even when we were growing up?”

“Perhaps when you were infants, refusing to sleep, I might have tried to do something of the sort. But otherwise, no. It is not something I do lightly. In Christian's case, however, I deemed it necessary—again, for several reasons. Most important was the fact that I didn't want him to harm Georgia, as might have happened if she grew too weak. Now they are both safe from each other and the rest of us are safe from them.”

He had started to knock again when the door was pulled open from within. “No, please,” Christian protested. He stood squarely in the doorway, as though he had any reasonable hope of preventing Conrad from entering. “Don't do this. You can't! You need to listen to me, damn it. You don't need to kill her. I have a plan!”

Conrad felt his temper spike. Had he actually come to end Georgia's life—or to end Christian's for that matter—there was nothing Christian could do or say to sway him. He gave silent thanks for Damian's well-timed caution not to act in a way that would cause Georgia more pain. Without that reminder still fresh in his mind, he'd be very tempted to prove that point in the most deadly manner possible.

“It's okay, Christian,” Julie said, speaking in surprisingly soothing tones. “No one's doing anything right now. We're just here to talk.”

Christian's eyes widened in hopeful surprise. “Does this mean you'll do it? You'll help save her?”

“I don't know yet,” Julie replied. “How can I? I have no idea what's involved. We have to talk about it.”

“No, we do not,” Conrad insisted, frowning sternly at her. “The subject is not open for discussion, child. I told you that already. I have made up my mind. I will
not
allow you to risk your life.”

“I know. But maybe I don't have to.” She turned back to Christian. “Do I?”

Christian shrugged. “Well, I shouldn't think so. I mean, I can't say there's
no
risk, of course. That's always a possibility something could go wrong. But I'm sure, whatever it is, it's negligible.”

“No,” Conrad growled, “it is
not
negligible. Any risk, no matter how slight, is unacceptable. I don't know what more I have to say to impress this upon the two of you, but—”

“It's okay,” Julie replied quickly. “That's not what we're here for, right?” She turned to Christian and said, “Why don't you move out of the way now so we can come in. And then maybe you can find us some chairs?”

“Oh! Certainly,” Christian said as he scampered out of the way. “Just one minute.”

Julie turned back to Conrad and smiled. “Can we see Georgia now?”

Conrad hesitated. This was a mistake; he knew it. But when she squeezed his hand and gazed at him so appealingly, he could deny her nothing. “Of course.” He gestured for her to go ahead, wondering when exactly he'd lost control of the situation. Probably shortly after the twins were born, he supposed.

“Conrad.” Georgia spoke calmly enough, but Conrad didn't miss the start she gave when he first entered her bedchamber. “How—how very nice of you to visit me.”

“Hello, my dear,” he replied, covering over everything—her fear, his anger, the awkwardness of the moment and the grief he was sure they both were feeling—with the brightest smile he could manage. “And how are you feeling today?”

“As well as might be expected I suppose,” she replied with a casual wave that, unfortunately, only served to bring his attention to the chains that encircled both wrists. “Forgive me for not getting up, but given the circumstances…”

“I am sorry about those,” he said, gesturing toward her bonds.

Georgia shook her head. “No, don't be. Don't give them another thought. I quite understand. They are a very
necessary
precaution. However—” she gazed pointedly at Julie, “—one might have
hoped
you'd have seen the wisdom of employing similar precautions elsewhere. Really, Conrad, it's not like you to be so remiss. Has it been so long that you've forgotten how serious this disease can be?”

“I've not forgotten. It's just that such precautions were not necessary elsewhere.”

“They were not?” She stared bleakly at him. “And why is that? Please, tell me it's not already too late. She has not infected you too, has she? Oh, Conrad, no! This cannot be—that would spell the end of everything. I cannot bear the responsibility of having caused your death as well!”

“Calm yourself,
ciccia
. It's all right, I promise. No one else has been infected.”

Georgia shook her head. “I'm sure you
wish
that were the case, but I doubt it's possible.” She looked at Julie, “I am not sorry for attempting to take your life, you know. Killing you swiftly is the
kindest
thing anyone could do for you. At some point you'll realize that and understand that I had your best interests at heart.”

“Except I'm not sick,” Julie replied.

Georgia's expression turned pitying. “You're in denial. Enjoy it while you can; it won't last very long.”

Christian bustled in at that point with two chairs. Conrad accepted one for himself and indicated that Julie should take the other. Then he seated himself close to Georgia's bedside. “It's been months, Georgia. If she
had
been
infected, you know as well as I do that she would have begun to show symptoms by now.”

“I know of no such thing. Perhaps the disease has mutated. Perhaps it takes longer to manifest than it once did. Look at me, I was infected for
years
before I realized it.”

“Yes, but there were specific reasons for that, none of which apply to Julie.”

“Then it's something else. Some other factor we've yet to consider.”

Conrad nodded. “There are other factors indeed, ones you know nothing about. You aren't the only one who's been keeping secrets, I fear.”

Georgia's eyes narrowed. “What secrets?”

“Rather extraordinary ones, actually.” As he spoke, Conrad took hold of Georgia's hand. He kept his gaze glued to her fingers as he said, “I know you've already noticed that Julie and her brother are…somewhat different from the rest of us. Indeed, I believe you mentioned that fact to me the night you met them.”

“Go on.”

“The truth of the matter…is that they are
Lamia
Infragilis
.”

“Born Vampires?” Georgia huffed out an exasperated breath. “Honestly, Conrad, I have so little time left. Why must you waste it with this nonsense? It's absurd.”

“It isn't, actually. And I do realize it's hard to believe, but let me assure you this is not a joke. I know what I'm talking about, Georgia. I've had the raising of them, after all. They were born with fangs and a taste for blood. Over the past forty years, I've watched the two of them grow from infants, only hours old, to the adults you see before you today. They have my blood running in their veins, yet I swear to you I never turned them.”

“I knew it. I knew it!” Christian punched at the air and muttered in triumph—then shrugged sheepishly when they all turned to stare at him. “I mean, not
that
, exactly. I never dreamed such a thing was possible. But I knew it had to be something significant, something that no one had ever considered.”

Conrad ignored Christian's protests. He turned back to Georgia, not surprised to find her staring at him, her face pale with shock. “Conrad?”

“I would not lie to you about this, my friend. Especially not now.”

“But how?” she whispered at last. “It's not possible.”

“I know. Believe me, I thought the very same thing myself, the first time I held them in my arms.”

Georgia's brow furrowed in thought. “Forty years, you say? So then who…? Wait a minute.” Conrad could see the wheels turning furiously in her mind. “That girl—blast it. I can't recall her name anymore. You know the one I mean. You once threw a Christmas party for her. They're hers, aren't they?”

Conrad nodded. “Yes. Desert Rose.”

“You knew my mother?” Julie asked, gazing speculatively at Georgia.

Georgia glanced questioningly at Conrad before answering. “Well, I… Yes, apparently. I-I suppose I did.”

“Only slightly,” Conrad amended. He hated the eager light in Julie's eyes. He could tell where her thoughts were trending, and he was very much tempted to caution her that this changed nothing. Georgia would still have to die. And, when she did, Julie would lose yet another link to her past. “
Very
slightly, in fact. Hardly at all.”

“I still don't understand,” Georgia said. “How did this happen?”

“Who knows? None of us understands it. And as to how or why it happened…I can only speculate. As you know, I had no plans to turn Desert Rose. I was quite happy to keep things the way they were.”

“Ah, yes, I do remember our conversations on that subject. As I recall, I told you it was a mistake not to at least inform her that we were vampires.”

“You did. And I disagreed with you. And I still maintain that my assessment was correct. Everything would have been fine if I'd have been able to keep her from learning the truth. For, as it happened, shortly after she found out I was Vampire, she begged me to make her one as well.” Just as Armand had done. Conrad sighed. Given history's tiresome habit of repeating itself, he really should have seen that coming. What was wrong with him that he hadn't? “Let's just say that did not turn out quite as expected.”

“Well, I can certainly see that! But I still don't understand how it's possible. Such a thing has never been done before—and as you and I both know, that was certainly
not
from any lack of trying!”

“I know. As I said, I don't fully understand it myself. She must have already been pregnant when I began the process of turning her—that's the only explanation I can think of for why she changed her mind so suddenly and never completed the transformation. I assume now that she was attempting to preserve her children's lives.”

“You assume? Did you two never talk about it?”

Conrad shook his head. “We never had the chance to talk. As soon as she woke from
il sonno dei morti
she left me. She slipped out while I was still asleep. I didn't learn until months later—after her children had already been born—what had happened to her.”

“And where is she now?”

“Dead.” Conrad cast an apologetic glance in Julie's direction. “She died shortly after giving birth.”

“But how fascinating,” Christian murmured. “Really. I'd love to know more.” He lounged in the doorway, staring at Julie with ever-growing interest.

This time, it seemed, the enthusiasm in his voice finally penetrated Georgia's bemusement. Even more color drained from her face. Her eyes were bleak as she met Conrad's gaze again. “You were never even going to think about sparing him, were you?”

“Georgia…”

“Give me
some
credit, Conrad. I'm not entirely stupid, you know. I understand the significance of this conversation. I realize what it means that you've suddenly decided to share such dangerous information with us both. You've clearly made up your mind that neither one of us will live long enough to pass it on to anyone else. It's true, isn't it?”

“No, it's not,” Julie protested. “Tell her it's not,” she demanded, frowning impatiently at Conrad before once again training her gaze on Georgia. “Never mind, then. I can
prove
it. You think you're the only one who knows? Well, you're not. Damian knows, and there's Marc and me. And Conrad told Armand about it too, just last night.

“He…what?” Georgia broke off laughing. “Armand? Conrad, tell me you didn't?”

“He did,” Julie insisted. “You don't think he's gonna kill him now too, do you?”

Georgia shook her head. “That poor boy. How did he take it? I'm sure that must have gone over famously.”

Conrad rolled his eyes. “I'm glad you find this entertaining.” He tried to speak lightly but ended up snarling in despair as he was struck with the realization that no one else would ever dare tease him this way. No one else would ever even understand the joke. He and Georgia had shared so much. Who knew him as well as she did? Who would laugh at his follies with him after she was gone?

The answer to both questions was the same: no one. No one at all.

“Conrad?” Julie's voice pierced the clouds of misery that had gathered around him. Her hand on his arm felt oddly soothing. “If you don't mind…I'd like to speak to Georgia in private for a few minutes.”

“What's that?” Conrad forced himself to concentrate on her words. “In private? No. Absolutely not. I'm sure that's not a good idea.” In fact, he thought it a terrible idea. He could just imagine what Damian would say, were he to find out. Or how he himself would respond to Damian's reaction. Given the already-tattered state of his nerves, the all-but-overwhelming need to strike out in anger—at any target that presented itself—it seemed best to avoid that particular confrontation.

Julie smiled entreatingly. “Please? Why not? I'll be perfectly safe.”

Conrad dug in his heels. It took a surprising amount of effort. “No.”

“Are you not just a little afraid of what I might do without my sire to constrain me?” Georgia asked, regarding Julie with curiosity. “Even after last night?”

Julie smiled faintly. “Do I look like I'm afraid?” Then she turned back to Conrad. “I'm not afraid—really, I'm not—and you shouldn't be either. Everything will be fine.”

“That's not the point.”

“Then what is the point?”