“Quite a performance!” Servio was saying.
“But you didn’t have to go
that far. After all, he was unconscious.”
Stephen shrugged.
“I told him it was you,” he said.
“In any case, the abuse... it’s
the only way to break his spirit,” he laughed derisively.
“But he didn’t
like being tortured either. I don’t think it will take
much longer to
brainwash him completely. He could do unspeakable things
for Archon,
he’ll do things for us.”
Servio nodded.
“Just make sure that he trusts you
and that his Nosferatu doesn’t
find him.”
“Don’t worry,” Stephen retorted. “He’ll
do what I want him to do.”
This wasn’t Arthur, whose advances
Julian had invited
half-consciously out of curiosity. Arthur’s overwhelming
strength had
been welcome. Being forced had freed Julian partly from
the
responsibility for what had happened. Deep down he knew
that if he had
protested strongly enough and made real effort to resist,
Arthur would
have backed off. Arthur had known that too. Afterwards,
Julian had
wondered if women did the same thing. Probably they often
did, he had
concluded.
But this had been sheer violence.
No amount of protesting or
resistance would have saved him this time. A stake had
been driven
through his chest, immobilizing him effectively. He had
been beaten
severely again and his left wrist had been broken. There
had been hands
and bodies and more pain. He hadn’t seen them, as his
face had been
pressed against the concrete floor. But he had been conscious
most of
the time, and was able to discern the different clans.
The only Ventrue
among them had been his blood brother.
The door to his cell was opened for
a moment and someone was thrown
in. In spite of the dark Julian could see the unconscious
heap on the
floor. The gnawing hunger made him move closer. The mortal
was very
young, a teenage boy, and Julian had to fight his reluctance.
The
Kindred law forbade feeding from children. But he needed
the blood now,
needed it to heal and regain his strength: to survive.
He opened an artery in the youngster’s
neck and drank until there
was no life left in the thin body. Julian Luna couldn’t
afford to be
humane anymore. The blood revived him swiftly. His injuries
disappeared
almost immediately. The broken wrist mended within minutes.
Julian
looked at the dead boy without pity. Somebody had decided
to feed him.
He had a friend here.
Julian watched Servio carefully.
It had been decades since he had last
seen the Prince of New York,
but the Ancient was of course unchanged. Servio remembered
the Roman
Empire, although there was nothing imperial about him.
His very name
suggested that he had been a slave. He had already been
old when he was
Embraced. There was a big bald patch on the top of his
head, the hair
that was left was white. He was short and heavy-set but
not fat.
Servio peered at Julian near-sightedly
and his head moved from side
to side in mocking sadness.
“Archon’s young protégé,”
he chucked. “Julian... Julian Luna, isn’t
it?”
Julian looked at the Prince of New
York intently without responding.
According to the rules of the Masquerade, they were supposed
to be
equals.
What’s gone wrong? Julian wondered.
Servio was a Ventrue, incomparably
older than Julian Luna, but apart
from that there shouldn’t be anything mysterious about
him. At least not
as far as the Prince of San Francisco was concerned.
They were of the
same Clan, Embraced and bred to rule. The Ancient got
up from his chair
and moved closer. Julian crossed his arms over his chest,
resisting an
urge to protect himself. Everything inside him screamed
run, but he knew
that he wouldn’t get anywhere.
“Come, come,” Servio was saying. “Let’s
talk.”
He put an arm around Julian’s shoulders
and led him towards a couch.
Julian managed to keep his muscles relaxed; he didn’t
flinch at the old
Kindred’s touch, nor did he try to get away, remembering
what Arthur had
told him.
Servio smiled and Julian smiled back.
He listened carefully as the
Ancient described his demented vision of the future.
The Romans had been
able to subjugate most of the known world in their time.
As Servio saw
it, it could be done again.
Wasn’t he aware that most of his supporters
had been wiped out
already? Julian wondered. Didn’t he realize that if the
Masquerade were
broken, the humans wouldn’t rest until the entire Kindred
population was
wiped out? It was the secrecy that protected them, not
their strength or
cunning. They were just too few, and had nothing with
which to fight the
fears of men. The mortals had wiped out whole nations
because of
different skin color or beliefs, and those were of the
same species. How
could Servio imagine that the Kindred could divide and
rule the human
race? Nothing would unite the humans as would a common
enemy!
The Ancient tightened his grip on
Julian’s shoulder; he had to fight
the desire to tear the offending hand off.
“You can rule with me,” Servio’s voice
was lowered to a tempting
whisper. “I’ll make sure that none of them touches you
again.” He
pointed at the Kindred who hovered in the other end of
the room and
Julian looked at them. They were staring at him, their
hostility quite
apparent.
Stephen was standing apart from them, an angry frown
on his face.
Has Servio promised him the same thing
that he promises me now?
Julian wondered. His gaze met that of his blood brother
and he smiled, a
warm, promising smile; then he looked back at Servio.
“I just don’t see how you intend to
make it all work,” he said.
Let him believe that I’m at least
curious, he thought.
The Ancient continued his tirade but
Julian was no longer listening.
He was thinking furiously.
If Stephen thinks that I’ll replace
him as Servio’s favorite, he’ll
kill me! I must make him believe that I trust him.
Julian was alone again in his cellar.
He was sure that someone would come;
someone would try to forge an
alliance with him. One against the other: Servio or Stephen.
The door
opened and Stephen stepped in. Julian shivered inside.
He had hoped that
it would be Servio, imagining that the old madman would
be easier to
fool. Stephen sat down on the floor beside Julian, resting
his back
against the wall.
“Well, what do you say, little brother?”
he said after a moment’s
thoughtful silence.
Julian shrugged.
“What is there to say? I’m tired and
hungry...” He looked at his
blood brother sideways and saw Stephen nod.
“I’m sorry about that. I asked Servio
to let me feed you but he
refused.”
Julian suppressed a smile. Whoever
had thrown that mortal boy into
his cell did it without Stephen’s knowledge. The body
had been gone in
the morning; it had been removed while Julian was asleep.
Someone was
trying to keep him alive and alert.
What’s going on in this pit
of snakes? Julian asked himself.
“It has healed.” Stephen had taken
Julian’s arm and touched the
wrist, bringing back the echo of the pain when it had
snapped.
“Of course,” Julian responded. Stephen
had stated the obvious. “I’m
still Kindred.”
Stephen held on to his hand and Julian
summoned all of his willpower
not to wrench it away. Stephen moved closer and Julian
steeled himself
before what was coming.
Somehow, Julian had found the ability
to submit himself to the
horror, accepting the pain, refusing to let his blood
brother know how
badly it hurt. Even hiding the relief when it was over.
“You and I.” Stephen’s voice floated
in the darkness. “Together
we’ll be invincible.”
Julian listened to his blood brother’s
ravings as intently as he had
listened to Servio’s.
“Go on!”
As long as Stephen talked, he kept
still. Julian was hard pressed
not to flinch every time his blood brother touched him.
He clenched his
teeth, fighting back nausea, and moved restlessly, searching
a more
comfortable position. Finding out this way that Stephen
was a
full-fledged sadist was more than Julian could stomach.
He understood
now why Archon had exiled Stephen to the cold north all
those years ago,
and why his Sire had been displeased by the fact that
Julian had kept
contact with his blood brother. As usual, when it came
to other men,
Julian had been blind.
If he tries anything again, I’ll kill
him! he thought with
vehemence. I don’t care what’ll happen afterwards. The
humiliation was
even worse than the pain.
Julian thought of all that he had
lost: Archon, who had been more of
a father to him than his own father had ever been. Cash,
loyal to the
point of defiance. Alexandra... Such a waste. Arthur,
the valiant
knight. In truth, he had died unnecessarily.
Julian realized with gratitude that
what Arthur had made him
experience helped him now. He was sure that if he hadn’t
had the
knowledge that Arthur had given him, he would have reacted
differently.
He would have lashed at his blood brother in rage, regardless
of the
consequences. He thought of Daedalus.
You and I, he repeated in his mind
what Stephen had said, but meant
something entirely different.
Daedalus, if I get out of here, I’ll
never let you out of my sight!
Julian Luna had always accepted the
presence of his bodyguards; it
was almost a tradition. But he had never felt in need
of protection; now
he did. And he wanted Daedalus at his side: nobody else.
He thought of
the only time when Daedalus had used his strength against
him, stopping
him from attacking Cameron after Archon’s death. Right
now Julian was in
sore need of Daedalus’ strength and protection, and at
last he admitted
it to himself.
Julian curled up against the wall
when the pain was gone. Stephen
droned on about his own vision of the new world order,
but Julian was no
longer listening. He was trying to disengage himself
from the revulsion
and loathing he felt, but it was in vain. What had been
done to him
would not be shut out of his mind.
The voice came closer, its quality
changed and Julian stiffened in
dread. He tried to move away when a hand touched his
chest, but his arms
were caught.
“Julian,” Stephen’s urgent whisper
was close to his ear, “you don’t
want me to break anything again, do you?”
But Julian bolted up with a snarl,
his eyes shining, his claws out,
his fangs bared. Stephen let out a deranged laugh.
“It’s so much better!” he shouted.
“Just resist!” And Julian slashed
at his blood brother’s face with a roar.
The door to the cell was opened suddenly
and they were both blinded
momentarily by the burst of light.
When Julian woke up, he found himself
wrapped tightly in some coarse
cloth. He lay quietly, trying to figure out where he
was. The droning of
engines and the slight vibrations told him that he was
aboard an
aircraft. He inhaled sharply and suddenly recognized
the smell and touch
of the fabric that was restraining him: Daedalus’ cloak!
He tore it from
his face and looked around. He was stretched out across
three seats,
swathed in Daedalus’ protective garment; the Nosferatu’s
anxious face
was leaning over him.
“Julian, please, try to stay in one
piece!” Daedalus was saying, as
the Prince stared at him uncomprehending. The Nosferatu
would not be
trying to make feeble jokes unless something was terribly
wrong.
Julian sat up abruptly. The pain that
shot through his body made him
regret his action. Daedalus’ supporting arm was around
his shoulders,
easing him down carefully, until he was supine again.
“Just stay put,” Daedalus said, “and
you’ll be all right.”
“What’s wrong with me?” Julian asked.
“Your neck is broken. He tried to
kill you!”
Julian frowned trying to remember
what had happened, but the images
his mind provided were a foggy blur. He had attacked
Stephen; then the
door had been flung open and Servio had come in, shouting...
He couldn’t
remember what happened afterwards.
“Servio?” he asked, but Daedalus shook
his head.
“Actually, Servio saved your life.
When I got there, Stephen was
twisting off your head, while Servio was twisting off
his. I’ve never
seen anything like it before. By then you were out cold
and they were
screaming obscenities at each other, each claiming that
you belonged to
him. I got this feeling that they intended to split you
in two.”
Daedalus was silent for a moment,
thinking, then looked Julian
straight in the eyes.
“What did you do to them? What did
you offer?” he asked.
Julian was trying to shake his head
but his neck protested with
painful cracking.
“I honestly didn’t do anything except
listen to them,” he answered.
“Is that why they almost tortured
you to death and then killed each
other over you?” The look on Daedalus face told Julian
that the
Nosferatu didn’t believe him.
A shiver went through the Prince’s
body, turning into violent
shaking. His fingers closed forcefully on Daedalus’ hand.
“They are dead!” he exclaimed. “Are
you sure?”
The Nosferatu shook his head in mock
distaste.
“I buried them,” he responded. “After
all, we’re the undertakers of
the Kindred and for the Kindred.”
Julian relaxed but didn’t let go of
Daedalus’ hand.
“I’ve never thought that such a nightmare
was possible,” he
whispered.
“What happened?” Daedalus asked, but
the Prince shook his head in
spite of his injured neck. His determined expression
told the Nosferatu
that this time no coaxing in the world would make Julian
talk. Whatever
had happened to him, the Prince would keep it to himself,
as if he were
mute. But Daedalus had his own suspicions. He knew what
sort of a person
Stephen had been, and why Archon had exiled him.
“No,” Julian said at last. “I just
want to forget.”
He looked at Daedalus’ hand that he
was holding onto and added:
“If I ever tell you again that I can
take care of myself when you
don’t think that I can, you may just laugh right up in
my face.”
He let go of Daedalus’ hand and closed
his eyes, his face
contorting. The Nosferatu saw the tears and looked away
feeling remorse.
He had allowed his Prince to be tortured for two days
and nights. No
regrets could change that now.
The Nosferatu Primogen of New York
had been quite clear in his
demand: Servio had to die, but no Nosferatu could kill
him. So Daedalus
had sent in Julian Luna, relying on the resourcefulness
of the Prince,
just as Archon had relied on it in the past. The New
York Nosferatu had
made sure that Julian was fed and kept alive. It was
he who had made
Servio believe that Julian was the key to their success.
Daedalus had
been loyal to his Clan, but now, looking at the shaking
body of his
friend, the Nosferatu Primogen wondered if it were worth
the prize.
Lillie was the first one to realize
that there was something
different about Julian. A very subtle change had taken
place, but Lillie
wouldn’t be a Toreador Siren if she hadn’t noticed. Julian
had always
acknowledged her presence in a way that showed on some
neurological
level that she was female and he was male. It was an
instinct that he
wasn’t aware of; it didn’t matter that they were no longer
lovers. It
was there, towards every woman, young and old alike.
But now, as he
greeted everyone around the conclave table, his glance
moved past Lillie
as if she were an inanimate object. He had never done
that before, even
when he was angry with her, even after he had fallen
in love with
Caitlin.
What might have happened in New York
that would have neutralized
Julian’s sexuality? Lillie wondered.
Julian had returned to San Francisco
apparently victorious, but he
was in a bad mood, more impatient than ever.
Lillie already knew of Stephen’s betrayal
and Cash’s and Arthur’s
deaths. She would have expected rage and sorrow, but
there was an air of
mental despair about him that made her suspect that something
disastrous
had happened to Julian himself. She didn’t dare to question
him but
stayed behind after the meeting and followed Daedalus
to his cellar.
“What’s wrong with him?” she asked
the Nosferatu Primogen without
preamble.
He looked at her, his face disclosing
nothing.
“Let it be, Lillie!” There was a sadness
in Daedalus’ voice that
Lillie had never heard before. “Just let it be!” he repeated.
It scared
Lillie.
For all of Julian’s conviction that
he wasn’t addicted to anything,
Lillie’s considered opinion was that the Prince was addicted
to sex. It
was a part of his character, just as were his temper
and his elaborate
way of speaking. But now, something had happened that
had changed his
personality, Julian Luna was no longer whole. It scared
Lillie indeed.
Julian and Daedalus did not speak
of what had transpired in New
York. The Nosferatu did not inquire again about what
had happened to
Julian during the time he was imprisoned there. The Prince
didn’t ask
about how Daedalus had found him and what happened between
that moment
and his awakening on the jet. Stephen’s name was not
mentioned again.
The Nosferatu never told Julian that he had killed the
other torturers,
one by one; he had not hesitated for one moment.
Daedalus kept the golden bracelet
that Arthur had given Julian in
New Orleans. He hid it among some other secret possessions
in his
cellar. There was the hatchet that Julian had used to
separate Goth from
his head, as well as the glass from which Julian had
drunk the wine with
droplets of Daedalus’ blood. It was a shrine that would
be destroyed if
anybody but Daedalus tried to open it. It was a shrine
that contained
Daedalus’ worship of his Prince.
Julian had banished every thought of
Caitlin from his mind during
his ordeal, sure that he would not survive. But now,
it was all over.
There was no trace of the injuries he had sustained,
except in his
memory, and he knew that sooner or later he would have
to face reality.
He would have to face Sasha, whose accusing eyes followed
him whenever
they met, and he would have to face Caitlin, although
everything inside
him balked at the very thought of intimacy. It had gone
so far that he
hated being naked and slept with his clothes on; he often
cried when he
was alone, out of shame and humiliation.
After a couple of days however, he
gathered up his courage and
called Caitlin. He told her that he would come to fetch
her soon. In the
meantime, there was Sasha.
She came to see him, unbidden, as
he sat pondering over the best way
to tell her about Cash.
“Sasha!” Julian looked at his young
relative with apprehension, but
before he could say anything more, she came forward and
took hold of his
arm.
“Julian! I’m so sorry!” she blurted
out. “I should have come to you
before - months ago!”
Julian frowned.
“What are you talking about?”
“I saw her!” Sasha continued. “I saw
them when they took her out of
the Brujah’s compound.”
Julian repeated his question.
“It was her. Caitlin!” Sasha said.
“She had been blindfolded, but I
recognized her anyway.”
Julian stared at Sasha in stupefied
silence.
“And you waited until now before telling
me?!” he asked angrily at
last. “Why?”
“I was afraid,” Sasha sniffled. “I
was afraid that there would be a
lot of fighting, and that Cash would be hurt.”
Julian sat down heavily.
“I knew all the time that it was Cameron.
I do wish that you had had
more trust in me. I never would have let Cash get hurt
if I could have
prevented it. Only I couldn’t...” Julian looked away,
unable to go on,
and it was now Sasha’s turn to stare at him.
“Has something happened to Cash?”
she asked in a trembling voice.
“Sasha,” Julian started, “I’m so very
sorry, but I have reason to
believe that Cash is dead.”
“I knew it!” she sobbed. “I knew you’d
get him killed!”
Julian wished that he could tell her
that it wasn’t his fault, but
in all sincerity, he couldn’t.
“I’m sorry,” was all he could say,
trying very hard to think of
something with which to comfort her.
“Sasha, you’re young,” he said at
last. “You’ll be all right. You’ll
get over it.” He heard how lame it sounded and Sasha
screamed at him.
“I hate you! It’s your fault! Everything
is your fault! I won’t stay
here another minute!” She turned abruptly but Julian
was as swift as
always and grabbed her by the arm before she reached
the door.
“Where do you think you’re going?!” he shouted.
“I’m going where I belong,” she hissed at
him. “To the Brujahs.”
She tried to disengage her arm from Julian’s
hold.
“Let me go!” she demanded. “You don’t own
me!” And he let go as if
stung.
“Sasha, if you ever change your mind, your
home is here,” he said
much more calmly, but she turned and ran away, leaving
him, never seeing
the tears in his eyes.
I’ve lost her too, Julian thought
in desolation.
Nick was his usual angry self and believed
that he had got Caitlin
out of his system, when he ran into her in the library.
Three weeks had
passed since their encounter. He felt his heart start
a war dance and
his palms began to sweat; yet he couldn’t walk away from
her.
“Hi, Caitlin. How are you?” he managed
to sound friendly.
She looked up and blushed.
“Hi, Nick.”
“Uh... should I go away, or can you
stand my sight?” he asked
dejectedly. It made her smile.
“It’s all right,” she responded. “I’m
not afraid of you or anything.
I just feel stupid.”
“Why?”
A couple of people who sat nearby
looked at them, making hushing
gestures. The library was supposed to be silent. Caitlin
blushed even
more and Nick leaned close to her.
“Let’s get out of here,” he whispered.
“We can talk, can’t we?”
Caitlin nodded getting up.
They went to Nick’s cottage; it took
only a few minutes to drive
there.
They sat in the kitchen, sipping the
coffee that Nick had made.
“I’ll be going to San Francisco any
day now,” Caitlin said.
Nick looked straight at her.
“Why did you come here in the first
place. There’s nothing wrong
with your father, is there?”
Caitlin shook her head.
“No... it’s not dad.” She hesitated
for just a second. “Julian had
some problems. He wanted me to stay out of that trouble.”
“Yeah,” Nick almost laughed. “Not
very smart. Look what trouble
you’ve got yourself into here.”
Caitlin blushed again and looked away
as Nick continued.
“Is there really nothing between us?”
“Nick,” Caitlin was still keeping
her eyes averted, “I love Julian.
I’m sorry.” She sighed heavily. “When we... you and I...
were
together... It made me see how much I love him. It doesn’t
feel like I
betrayed him. He said...”
“You told him!” Nick almost shouted
making her wince.
“Yes. He was here a couple of weeks
ago. He’ll be back soon to fetch
me.”
“What did he say?” Nick’s voice became
scornful. “Am I going to end
up in a ravine, dismembered like poor Joe?”
Caitlin stared at him.
“Don’t be daft!” she retorted. “I
didn’t tell him it was you, and
even if I had, it wouldn’t matter. Julian is not a murderer!”
She was
angry and there were tears in her eyes.
But Nick was angry too.
“What did he say? That it was all
right for you to cheat? Maybe he
cheats too!”
Nick’s unfortunate choice of the word
startled Caitlin.
“He said that bad sex is the best
cure for cheating,” she blurted
out before she could stop herself. Caitlin saw that she
had hit Nick
where it hurt. His face set into an expressionless mask.
She wanted to
apologize, but before she could say anything, Nick got
up and took hold
of her arms.
“So...” he said coldly, “if he’s so
much better, why did you go to
bed with me?”
“Nick, please!” She tried to get away
from him, but he wouldn’t let
go, and started shaking her instead.
“Why,” he hissed, “why?”
“Nick, please... ” she repeated and
started to cry in earnest. “I
didn’t mean to hurt anyone,” she sobbed. “I didn’t...
I liked you...
I... For God’s sake, I’m only human!”
Now it was Nick who reacted to her
choice of the word.
“You’re human, all right,” he said
harshly, taking hold of her face
with one hand and forcing her to look into his eyes,
“but Julian Luna
isn’t!”
Caitlin’s eyes widened.
“Are you out of your mind?” she was
whispering.
“Caitlin!” Nick was shouting again.
“You love a vampire!”
“You are mad!” she screamed and jerked
free of his hold, then turned
and ran out of the cottage.
Nick’s anger turned to worry when he
didn’t find Caitlin after
twenty minutes. It was cold and dark, and he knew how
easily one could
get lost. After another fifteen minutes of searching
he realized that he
needed help. Caitlin would not survive a winter’s night
in the
Washington woods. Nick didn’t lock his cottage in case
she came back
while he was gone, and after calling the police station
requesting help,
he jumped into his pickup. Speeding dangerously, he made
it to James
Byrne’s house in fifteen minutes. He ran to the door
without turning off
the engine.
He rang the bell and found himself
face to face with the man he had
the picture of.
“Well, for once it’s before midnight.”
Caitlin’s father’s voice came
from somewhere inside the house.
“It’s not Caitlin,” Julian Luna said
without looking away from Nick,
who was just staring.
“Yes?” Julian cocked his head to one
side looking up at Nick.
At the same time James Byrne came
to the door.
“Ah, the police,” he said, frowning.
“Has something happened?” But
Nick continued to stare.
Julian Luna looked as human as anyone
did. He was even shorter than
Nick had imagined. The photograph had not done him justice.
He was very
good-looking and Nick understood how he could have turned
Caitlin’s
head. But he was pale and seemed unwell. There was an
air of suffering
about him that Nick recognized immediately. He had seen
it often enough
in victims of abuse. Apparently, Julian Luna had been
hurt recently, and
hurt badly. All of Nick’s conviction about what Julian
was crumbled to
pieces.
“It’s Caitlin,” Nick said. “We had
a... a disagreement and she ran
away. I can’t find her.”
“What? What are you saying?” James
Byrne demanded, but Julian
reacted without a word. He took hold of Nick’s arm and
moved towards the
pickup.
“Shouldn’t you put on a coat or something?”
Nick said. Julian didn’t
even have his jacket on. Old Byrne had put on a quilted
jacket and was
coming after them.
“No. You stay in the house,” Julian
said to him, and to Nick’s
surprise the old man nodded.
“I’ll call the police,” he said.
“I’ve already done that,” Nick broke
in. “Give him your jacket.”
Caitlin’s father took the jacket off
and handed it to Julian, who
took it and climbed into the pickup.
“Let’s go!” There was something in
his voice that made Nick obey
immediately.
Nick broke all speed limits again
on his way back, making all
conversation impossible. However, Julian didn’t show
any interest in
talking. Two police cars were waiting outside Nick’s
cottage when they
arrived there. They had brought two dogs.
Julian jumped out, and ignoring everybody
else turned to Nick.
“Where did she start?” he asked.
“Right here,” Nick answered. “Out
towards the edge of the woods.” He
pointed at the tracks in the snow. “That’s her.”
Julian started running along Caitlin’s
footprints and Nick followed
with a curse.
“Wait!” he shouted. “I’ll get you
a flashlight.”
He realized with incredulity that
he had no chance to catch up with
Julian, and would have given up had Julian not stopped
just as he came
to the first trees. Nick reached him, panting, a flashlight
in his
outstretched hand, but Julian Luna didn’t take it. Instead,
he took off
the jacket that James Byrne had given him and handed
it to Nick.
“Are you mad!?” Nick exclaimed.
But Julian didn’t care to respond.
He threw the jacket to Nick, who
caught it automatically.
“Don’t let the dogs loose!” Julian
said. He was gone in the next
moment, leaving Nick staring after him.
“What the hell is going on?” The voice of
his colleague made Nick
turn. Another policeman with a dog on a leash reached
them, repeating
the same question.
Nick shrugged in exasperation.
“Don’t let the dogs loose!” he repeated
Julian’s demand.
“Yeah, now we have two big city fools
lost in the woods,” the
policeman commented.
“I don’t think so,” Nick retorted.
They followed the double tracks, flashing
their lights, keeping the
dogs in check. Nick was not surprised when he saw that
the footprints of
the man’s shoes disappeared after a hundred yards. Instead
there were
the marks of a wolf. The white men didn’t seem to notice
or care, and
Nick kept his discovery to himself. The dogs started
to bark.
“Don’t let the dogs loose!” Nick said
again.
They continued deeper into the woods
for another hour. Then Nick
stopped them.
“Keep the damn dogs quiet!” he demanded
angrily.
They could hear the sound of breaking
twigs: something was moving
towards them.
“Over here!” Nick shouted and ran
towards the sound.
He bumped into Julian after just a
few minutes, making him lose his
balance. Julian fell on his back. Caitlin was in his
arms, and he didn’t
let go of her. Nick went down on his knees and pried
Caitlin from
Julian’s hold. She was unconscious, but alive. Her hands
and face were
cold but not frostbitten. She had been out in the cold
less than three
hours. She would be all right. Nick turned to Julian
who was sitting in
the snow, apparently exhausted.
“Can you go on if I carry her?” he
asked quietly.
Julian got up unsteadily.
“I’m all right,” he said. “I just
hate the cold!”
“Here.” Nick handed Caitlin back to
Julian, and took off his coat
and hung it over Julian’s shoulders before reclaiming
the unconscious
woman.
They started back and met the other
policemen soon. The dogs barked
at Julian, and at the last moment, he stopped himself
from snarling at
them. He snarled at the policemen instead.
“Get these animals away from me!”
When they came to Nick’s cottage and
Caitlin was placed on Nick’s
bed, Julian started to remove her clothes immediately.
“Call a doctor,” Julian said. “Call
her father. Tell him she’ll be
all right.” He turned to Nick. “Do you have a bathtub?”
“No, just a shower,” Nick answered.
“It will do.”
Nick picked up the phone. As he talked
to the doctor and then with
James Byrne, he watched as Julian took off all of Caitlin’s
clothes
without hesitation.
“Tell James to bring some clothes
for her,” Julian said, “and for
me.”
Nick repeated the demand. He looked
on in silence as Julian examined
Caitlin, concentrating on her feet and hands, then listening
to her
heart. She stirred and moaned.
“Turn on the shower,” Julian said,
adding, “hot.”
He lifted Caitlin and, kicking off
his shoes, walked into the
shower.
Nick heard her scream angrily. She’ll
be all right, he thought.
The doctor came ten minutes later,
and Nick knocked on the bathroom
door and walked in, carrying several towels. Apparently,
they hadn’t
heard him. Caitlin and Julian were standing under the
shower, the steam
almost hiding them. They were kissing, the hot water
battering them.
Nick walked out again and faced the doctor.
“I’m afraid your services won’t be
required,” he told the doctor.
But Doctor Ray took the towels from Nick’s hand and walked
into the
bathroom without knocking.
“Doctor’s privilege,” he said to Nick
over his shoulder.
Nick heard Caitlin scream again and
wished he were somewhere else.
Just as he thought that the situation couldn’t get more
embarrassing,
the doorbell started ringing and he guessed that it was
the astronomer.
For a moment he contemplated escaping through the window,
then sighed
and opened the door. As he had expected, it was Caitlin’s
father, a big
bag in his arms. Fortunately, Nick was spared any questioning
because
Doctor Ray led Caitlin out of the bathroom swathed in
a bath towel.
James Byrne concentrated on his daughter. Nick took the
bag that
Caitlin’s father had brought and emptied it contents
on the table. He
sorted out the men’s clothes and went back to his bathroom
with them.
This time Julian noticed Nick’s entrance
immediately, turned off the
shower, took a towel and wiped the water off his face.
Julian’s clothes
were a wet heap in a corner.
“It seems that Caitlin has come to
no harm,” he said.
“She’ll be fine, judging from her
reactions,” Nick answered. “Are
you okay?”
“There’s nothing wrong with me,” Julian
looked at Nick frowning.
“May I have that?” he pointed at the bundle of clothes
in Nick’s hand.
“I assume that James Byrne has arrived?”
Nick nodded and Julian smiled.
“The good doctor’s perfect timing,”
he said enigmatically. He
noticed Nick’s embarrassment and his smile became broader.
“Could you make some coffee while
I get dressed?”
“Sure.”
Nick escaped into the kitchen. While
he was preparing the coffee, he
was pondering over what he had seen. Julian Luna was
also good-looking
without his clothes on. In fact, he was better looking
without his
clothes than when dressed. He was apparently in good
shape without being
overly muscular. Maybe a shade too thin. What had surprised
Nick, was
the lack of any visible trace of injury. He had expected
fresh wounds:
there was no doubt in his mind that Julian Luna had come
to some serious
harm within the last week. The echo of the pain was there
as evident as
scars would have been. It seemed so strange.
What Nick didn’t know, was that the
Kindred, in spite of their
healing capabilities, or maybe because of them, had a
pain memory that
far surpassed that of humans. While humans retained scars
and aches
after injuries to remind them of harm, but forgot most
pain as soon as
it was gone, the Kindred had merely their memories to
rely upon to keep
them out of harm’s way. What Nick had seen was Julian’s
constant
awareness of what had happened to him, magnified by the
revolting
deliberateness of the inflicted pain. Julian Luna carried
his scars in
his mind, and these particular scars would never disappear.
Nick had
also noticed that there was no bullet scar on Julian’s
leg.
Julian came into the kitchen a few
minutes later and Nick gave him a
cup of coffee saying:
“I don’t have anything stronger at
home.”
“I just wanted something hot,” Julian
responded, downing the
steaming liquid all at once, and held out the cup for
more.
“Let’s see how Caitlin is doing,”
he said after drinking another
cupful.
She was dressed in a big woolly sweater
and a pair of jeans and was
sitting cross-legged on the bed, laughing at a pair of
enormous man’s
socks that her father had brought and was now trying
to make her put
them on her feet.
“Look, if I try to walk with these
things on, I’ll trip and kill
myself!” she complained.
“You won’t have to walk,” Julian said
and they all looked at him.
Caitlin threw down the socks and jumped
off the bed. She ran to
Julian and hugged him pressing against him the way a
frightened child
nestles itself into a parent’s embrace. Julian’s arms
locked around her
instantly and he beckoned to the others with his head
- leave.
Nick herded the older men out of his
bedroom. He cast a last glance
at the embracing couple before closing the door. They
were holding on to
each other like they’d never let go.
Nick heard the voice of his oldest
uncle in his head.
‘If he’s got hold of that woman, there’s
nothing left for you.
Beware!’
No, there’s nothing left for me, Nick
thought, but he had no energy
left to get angry.
As Julian had promised, Caitlin didn’t
have to walk. He carried her
out to her father’s car and then into the house, but
when he started up
the stairs to her bedroom, old Byrne stopped him.
“Take her to the master bedroom,”
he said. “I’ll sleep in the
guestroom.”
Julian nodded gratitude and the astronomer
nodded back.
“Good night.”
Julian responded to Caitlin’s kisses,
but didn’t press against her
hand when she touched him, as he had always done in the
past.
“Caitlin,” he whispered, “let’s get
some rest.” He sounded so tired
that she accepted his refusal and went to sleep, curled
against his
side.
It dismayed her when she woke up alone
in the morning. Before she
had time to decide whether she should sulk or be worried,
Julian came
in, bringing her breakfast. But she pushed the tray aside
and took hold
of his hand, dragging him towards her. He allowed her
to hold him but
his reluctance was apparent, and when her hands became
bold, he recoiled
from her, scaring her.
“Julian, what is it? Are you angry
with me?”
“Caitlin...” There was a crack in
his voice and he hugged her. “I
could never be angry with you!” He was shaking and she
tightened her
grip around him.
“Just hold me,” he whispered. “Please,
hold me!”
She felt him relax after some time
and decided to give it another
try. He stopped her immediately.
“Caitlin, I can’t!”
She sat up and looked at him, frowning.
“What’s wrong?”
But he couldn’t bring himself to tell
her.
“Just give me some time,” he begged.
“Don’t do this to me!” she exclaimed.
“Caitlin, it’s not your fault! I...
I’ve been hurt.”
But Caitlin was relentless.
“Tell me what has happened!” she demanded.
She didn’t own the empathy of Nick
Marliss, but she could sense
Julian’s attempt to suppress something, and she would
be damned if she
would let him get away with it. Whatever had happened
to him, she was
there to help him get past it. As she saw it, it was
her duty as well as
her privilege.
At first Julian refused to divulge
anything. Caitlin took hold of
his hands.
“I’ll not let you go until you tell
me,” she said, knowing that her
weakness was a formidable weapon against his strength.
Julian would not
use force to disengage his hands from her grip and was
therefore unable
to escape her interrogation.
He looked at their hands and smiled
sadly, well aware of her
manipulating trick.
“Caitlin...” he looked away, “someone
whom I trusted betrayed me...”
He pressed his lips together and his face contorted,
then exhaled
sharply. “He tortured me!”
He tried to get away from her and
she let go of his hands, shocked.
He sagged and she embraced him cautiously.
“Oh, Julian...” she whispered. He
was shaking uncontrollably in her
arms, and she remembered her own reaction after she had
been raped.
“I wish you’d cry,” she said and he
pulled her close.
“I’ve done that,” he whispered. “It
didn’t help much.”
Caitlin didn’t ask anything more and
Julian didn’t disclose any
details. Whatever had happened, she could see that there
was no physical
pain anymore, but he hurt inside. It was difficult for
Caitlin to
imagine Julian as a victim of abuse, but nevertheless,
what had been
done to him had rendered him unable to be intimate with
her.
Even Caitlin’s father seemed to notice
the despair in Julian but he
didn’t ask about its reason.
Nick Marliss was too angry to be afraid.
Eventually, he sought out Julian Luna.
Nick was sure now that
Caitlin’s fiancé was what he suspected him to
be: a vampire. Neither was
there any doubt in Nick’s mind that Julian had killed
Joe Montegna. Nick
knew that he couldn’t do anything about Joe’s death,
but he decided to
confront Julian for Caitlin’s sake, if nothing else.
He observed the
house and called the moment he saw Caitlin leave. Apparently,
she was
going out to do some shopping. James Byrne answered and
Nick asked for
Julian, who agreed to meet him only after Nick mentioned
Frank Kohanek.
“I’ll come to your cottage,” Julian
said, “late tonight.”
It made Nick wonder if he would survive
the night, but he was too
determined to back off.
It was long past midnight and Nick
started to wonder if Julian would
come at all. The thought that the vampire might turn
out to be a coward
made Nick both angry and relieved.
Suddenly, Julian Luna was there. Nick
had not heard the car and he
wondered how the man had come to his place. Well, it
didn’t matter; Nick
had left the door unlocked on purpose. They looked at
each other in
silence for a long time. Julian leaned against the doorframe,
his arms
crossed over his chest.
“You wanted to see me,” he said, the
question What do you want?
implied in his statement.
Nick leaned back in his chair, his
empty hands visible. He didn’t
want to provoke Julian Luna to violence.
“I know what you are,” Nick said.
To his surprise, there was no
reaction from Julian. “Nobody will
believe me,” Nick continued,
“except for my old uncles. But then, who’d care what
the Indians blabber
about.” A note of bitterness crept into Nick’s voice
as he rose from his
chair. “However, I’d like to know something.”
Julian didn’t move from where he stood,
but he relaxed somewhat.
“What’s on your mind?” His voice was
soft, almost friendly.
Nick hesitated for just one second.
“Did you kill Joe?” he asked.
Julian Luna faced the Indian and his
eyes didn’t waver as he
answered.
“Yes.”
“How... how did you do it?”
“I ripped his heart out!” Julian’s
voice was harsh.
“Because he shot a bullet through
your leg!?” Nick was appalled.
“No!” Julian was shaking his head.
“Because he shot a bullet through
my leg three inches from Caitlin!”
Nick’s eyes became narrow slits and
he sat down heavily.
“I wouldn’t want you for my enemy,”
he said, and Julian smiled.
“No,” he retorted, “you wouldn’t.”
After a moment he added, “if I’m
the one to decide, you won’t.”
“Nothing can be done about Joe, but
wouldn’t it be better if you
left Caitlin alone?” Nick asked softly. “Doesn’t she
deserve better?”
The question made Julian suspect that
this must be the man who had
been with Caitlin, and his eyes started to change. To
his own surprise,
he was able to fight back the urge to attack the mortal.
Caitlin had
made a mistake, that’s all. He exhaled slowly.
“Do you think that Caitlin wants me
to leave her alone?” There was a
shade of contempt in Julian’s voice. “Because I don’t!”
Nick remembered what he had seen in
his own bathroom and his face
darkened.
“If she knew what you are...” he started
but Julian didn’t let him
finish.
“Oh, but she knows!” Julian’s smile
was openly condescending, the
British accent exaggerating the insult. “She just doesn’t
want to admit
it to herself. The simple truth is that she loves me.
She prefers the
embrace a of a vampire to that of a human.”
Julian was aware that his cruelty
was deliberate, but this man had
made Caitlin run out into the cold night. Had Julian
not been there to
find her, she might have died in those woods. He wanted
to hurt the
mortal, if only with words, although he would have preferred
an
old-fashioned wallop. He realized with a feeling of triumph
that he had
succeeded in provoking Nick’s rage as the mortal rose
slowly to his
feet.
Nick watched the other man carefully.
Normally, he wouldn’t be so
cautious, as Julian was apparently unarmed. Nick was
a head taller and
at least thirty pounds heavier.
Julian stared back. His opponent was
probably better trained and had
greater reach, but Julian knew without doubt that he
was incomparably
swifter; and when it came to sheer strength, the big
policeman had no
chance.
As others had done in the past, Nick
made the mistake of believing
in his bulk. He attacked Julian Luna. But the Kindred
just wasn’t there,
and Nick’s fist flew through the air, his body following
the swing. He
would have fallen if Julian hadn’t grabbed his shoulder.
Nick found
himself pressed to the wall, a hand on the back of his
neck painfully
preventing him from moving. Then the unbelievable pressure
was gone; he
felt his arms being jerked back and his wrists were locked
in a steel
grip.
“I’ll turn the bones in your wrists
into dust!” Julian hissed in
Nick’s ear. “Just give me a reason!”
The pressure increased and Nick knew
that it wasn’t an empty threat.
A picture of Joe’s mutilated body flashed in his mind,
and he stopped
struggling. Suddenly, he was free. He turned around slowly
and faced
Julian who stared at him angrily with shining green eyes.
Nick swallowed
hard.
“You live because she lives! Joe Montegna
died for less!” Julian
snarled. “Remember that!” He turned and left.
Nick exhaled with relief and sat down
massaging his aching wrists.
He was thinking hard for a long time. In the end he took
the file marked
Joseph Montegna and threw it into the fire.
He had decided that fighting vampires
was not in his line of duty.
The next day Julian told Caitlin that
he must return to San
Francisco.
“Will you come with me?” he asked
her softly.
“Julian!” Caitlin exclaimed in exasperation.
“Of course I’ll come
with you! Did you think that I’d abandon you just because
you’re
unwell?” She started to sound angry. “I love you!”
He smiled at her sadly.
“I love you too, Caitlin,” he said,
“but I don’t know if I’ll ever
be able to make love to you.”
Caitlin hugged him.
“Julian, I hope there’s more to us
than sex,” she retorted.
“I sincerely hope that it’s true,”
he responded.
He was miserable and pale and moody,
making Caitlin think of a sick
child. If she hadn’t known better, she would have believed
that he was
ill. He seemed preoccupied, his mind on faraway things.
Caitlin noticed
that his distraction made him forget to be afraid of
flying during their
trip back to San Francisco.
After they returned to California,
Caitlin saw very little of
Julian. He never came to her bedroom; Caitlin was thoroughly
unhappy.
Even if Julian couldn’t make love to her, she wanted
his company. She
decided to confront him.
She stayed in the library for several
evenings in a row, hoping that
Julian would turn up eventually. When he did, he found
her asleep in his
favorite chair.
“Caitlin...” He woke her, touching
her face lightly. “What are you
doing here?”
“Waiting for you,” she answered.
“Why?”
“Julian, you can’t do this to me.
I won’t stand for it!”
He blinked several times but said
nothing.
“Don’t shut me out!” Caitlin continued.
“I need you. I need your
presence.” She started to cry. “Don’t leave me alone
like this!”
“Caitlin!” He lifted her up in his
arms. “There’s nothing I want
more than to be with you. I was afraid that you’d...”
She silenced him by putting her hand
over his mouth.
“Don’t!” she said.
He carried her to her bedroom and
stayed with her all night. It was
wonderful to sleep in his arms again, and it made Caitlin
very happy,
although she missed their lovemaking terribly.
From that day on Julian stopped avoiding
her company. They spent
many evenings together, but he’d not follow her to her
bedroom; there
was always something he had to take care of. However,
he’d sometimes be
at her side when she woke up in the morning and that
was gratifying
enough.
In the end, after several weeks had
passed, Caitlin decided that it
was time to give it another try. When she woke up on
a Saturday morning
and found Julian asleep next to her, she let her hands
touch him
cautiously, her fingers caressing his chest and shoulders
lightly. But
as soon as she reached his belly, he opened his eyes
and she froze. He
didn’t say anything, just kept looking at her. After
a moment’s
hesitation, she let her hands continue, prepared to stop
at the
slightest protest from him. There was no protest, but
neither was there
any other reaction.
Julian hid his tears by turning away
from her, but his shaking
shoulders disclosed his desolation. She held him until
he calmed down,
her embrace comforting. After he had gone, to her utter
surprise,
Caitlin found stains of blood on the pillow.
Cameron had made up his mind.
He might have acted differently if
Julian Luna had treated him
better, or worse. He would have welcomed the opportunity
to fight open
hostility. But the polite contempt that nobility usually
reserve for
snobs was more than he could take. Knowing that he was
unable to harm
the Prince physically, he decided to use the only advantage
he had. The
tabloids wouldn’t do; it had to be something more reliable.
Cameron chose carefully. He made a
copy of the diskette that Donna
had given him and mailed it with an anonymous letter.
A couple of days
later he phoned the recipient of his small package. It
had reached its
destination, but the man on the other end of the line
wasn’t convinced.
“The lady in question is still missing,”
he said. “What guarantee do
I have that this is the real thing. I wouldn’t like to
get into trouble
with Julian Luna for nothing.”
“She worked for him,” Cameron answered.
“It’s quite possible that he
has done away with her.” Cameron almost laughed at his
own
inventiveness. “I wouldn’t put it past him.”
“Hm...” The voice on the other end
hesitated. “How come this diary
ended up in your possession? And who are you?”
“I can’t tell you.” Cameron did his
best to sound nervous. “Believe
me, I would be in much graver danger if Julian Luna found
out who I am,
and who gave me the original diskette. If you won’t use
it then I’ll
find someone else who will.”
“Okay, just give me a couple of days
to check a few things.”
Julian was glad that Biggy had called.
The old radioman had been
neglected long enough. Whatever he wanted to discuss
would be fine with
Julian.
It was the first time that Biggy entered
the mansion. He looked
around, making no effort to curb his curiosity. Everything
around him
emanated an atmosphere of wealth, old and discrete. Biggy
nodded to
himself. It was what he had expected. He was led into
the library where
Julian Luna was waiting for him. It was four in the morning
and Biggy
had just got off the air.
“I must say,” the reporter started,
“being Kindred agrees with the
hours I keep.”
Julian smiled at that.
“As long as you remember to get some
rest every now and then. We’re
not inexhaustible.”
Biggy sat down and accepted the wine
that the Prince offered him.
They looked at each other in silence.
“Has Mary taken good care of you?”
Julian asked at last.
“Yes, yes.” Biggy sighed. “Although
I must admit that I was rather
sorry that you weren’t around.”
“I’ve been busy.” Julian made a dismissive
gesture, then smiled
again. “I intend to remedy that in the future. I was
hoping that you
would agree to be my adviser.”
Biggy stared in awe.
“If you think that I may be of any
help... I’d be honored.” He
didn’t know what else to say. Biggy had contacted Julian
Luna in order
to confront him with Amy’s diary, hoping that his Sire
would somehow
make the problem disappear. He got the diskette out of
his pocket and
put it on the table in front of Julian.
“Do you know what this is?” Seeing
Julian frown he added, “I mean
what it contains.”
Julian looked at it for a moment before
returning his gaze to
Biggy’s face.
“I don’t know what it contains. But
I guess it must be some
information implicating me in a crime, isn’t it?”
“Not crime exactly.” Biggy picked
up the diskette again. “It’s a
copy which has been sent to me anonymously. Does the
name Anamaria
Weatherstone sound familiar to you?”
“Ah! The infamous diary!” Julian exclaimed.
“Poor Caitlin! She went
to such great lengths to destroy it.”
Biggy stared open-mouthed at his Sire.
“Are you telling me that Caitlin knows
about it?” he whispered at
last.
“She found it, or rather, she found
the original,” Julian responded.
“And?”
Julian shrugged.
“She didn’t like it. Neither did I.
I could hardly tell her what I
really did, could I?”
“You killed her!” Biggy jumped up
and Julian grimaced.
“Don’t be stupid. I fed from her.”
“Then... Why is she missing?” Biggy
wondered. “Did she try to
blackmail you?”
“With that?” Julian shrugged again.
“A hundred years ago it would
have created a scandal. But today... Caitlin is the only
person it might
sadden, and she knows about it.” He looked away before
continuing. “I
don’t know what has become of her and, frankly, I don’t
care.”
“Maybe you should,” Biggy retorted.
“If there’s a police
investigation, you might get into trouble. This is only
a copy. The guy
said...”
“You’ve talked to him?” Julian interrupted.
“You know who he is?”
“No.” Biggy shook his head. “He phoned.”
He dug into his pocket
again and produced a small tape recorder. “You want to
hear him?”
Noticing Julian’s surprise he added, “I record all my
calls. Just in
case...”
Julian nodded and Biggy pushed a button.
They listened to the short
conversation and Biggy watched his Sire. But Julian Luna
didn’t react in
any way. In the end Biggy had to ask.
“Do you recognize the voice? Do you
know him?”
“Yes.” Julian nodded and smiled malevolently.
“Fortunately, he’s
Kindred.”
”Why did he send it to me?” Biggy
wondered.
“Your reputation is impeccable,” Julian
answered. “If you made it
public, it would be believed. A nuisance. Her family
is wealthy and
might make trouble. But I’m not a pauper, and I have
friends in the
right places too. I believe it’s supposed to make Caitlin
mad at me.”
“Wouldn’t she be?”
“She was.” Julian looked away again.
“She forgave me.”
“I just wonder...” Biggy was frowning.
“Why didn’t he send it
directly to Caitlin?”
“I don’t know.” Julian was thinking
aloud. “Maybe he wanted to
create the biggest possible fuss. But he made a mistake.
In fact, three
mistakes.”
“Mistakes?”
“Yes.” Julian’s cold smile was back.
“First, Caitlin already knows
about it, so it’s no longer a threat. Second, he didn’t
contact you in
person, so he doesn’t know that you’re Kindred, my Kindred.
Third, he
called you and got himself recorded, so now I know who
he is.”
“What should I do about it?” Biggy
asked.
“I don’t want it read on the radio,”
Julian responded. “Neither does
Caitlin. But he’ll contact someone else. Why don’t you
talk to Caitlin?
You’re both journalists. Together you should be able
to think of
something intelligent to do. Maybe... Maybe you should
turn it over to
the police?”
“Is it a good idea?” Biggy wondered.
“It’s a wonderful idea!” Julian laughed.
“Don’t worry, I can handle
the police.”
Caitlin had taken down the picture
and brought it to the table. She
wanted to look at it in a better light. It depicted Julian
and a woman
in eighteenth century clothes. The picture itself seemed
very old. Its
frame was made of wood and a glass pane shielded it.
Evelyn and Julian Luna, 1856, said
the writing in the lower right
corner.
Julian’s great-grandfather, Caitlin
thought. How alike they are.
Just as she was hanging the picture
back, standing on a chair, she
heard the door to the library open. Believing that the
picture was
securely up on its hook, she let go of it and turned
around.
“Look out!” Julian shouted and she
heard a crashing sound above her
head. The old frame had broken open in one upper corner
and the glass
pane started to fall over her. It was still caught in
the opposite
corner and its weight made it break as it fell. Caitlin
put up her arms,
protecting her face as the broken pieces of glass fell
over her. She
cried out as the raining glass cut into her arms and
shoulders. She lost
her balance and would have fallen off the chair, if Julian
had not run
to her side and caught her before the accident became
even worse.
Caitlin was bleeding from several
cuts, a big shard of glass was
stuck in her left shoulder. The blood ran down her arms
and her chest.
Julian removed the shard carefully and threw it aside.
He took off her
blouse and looked over her wounds. They weren’t deep
but bled profusely.
“You’ll be all right,” he whispered.
There was something in his voice that
made Caitlin look up. The
stony impassivity that had haunted her for weeks was
gone from his face.
She saw the green light shimmer in his eyes as he drew
her close and
kissed her passionately. She was surprised and bewildered
but responded
to his kiss, and, as he pressed his body against hers,
she became aware
of his desire. His hands ripped off her blood-soaked
bra.
“Julian!” Caitlin broke off their
kiss. “I’ll bleed all over you!”
He mumbled something incoherent, lifted
her up in the air and
started kissing her neck and breasts. Within seconds
his face and hair
were covered with Caitlin’s blood. He took a few steps
away from the
scattered glass and laid her down on the carpet.
“Julian,” she whimpered, but somehow,
his kisses and caresses
overcame the stinging pain of her cuts. He shredded the
rest of her
clothes and rammed into her without taking off his own.
His shirt was
soaked with Caitlin’s blood. He snarled when she complained
that he was
hurting her, and tried to take hold of her pushing hands.
His movements
were jerky and awkward. All the control that had impressed
and sometimes
irritated Caitlin in the past was gone; it was as if
she were overcome
by a force of nature.
The sight and smell of Caitlin’s blood
had driven Julian crazy. How
the Kindred instinct to feed had been transformed into
sexual arousal
was beyond his capacity to comprehend. His lips and tongue
moved over
her injuries, removing the pain and closing the wounds:
there would be
no scars left. Caitlin then realized with dread that
Julian was licking
the blood off her skin. She was dizzy from the loss of
blood and shocked
by Julian’s weird reaction.
Caitlin understood that it was the
sight of her blood that had
triggered Julian’s passion, a passion that she had thought
was lost.
Uncontrolled, it had scared her out of her wits, but
now she was
thinking that she would gladly give her blood if it could
bring Julian’s
love.
He rested his forehead against her
shoulder, his breath coming in
uneven gasps. His mouth moved slowly over her shoulders
and arms where
there was no trace left of the cuts that had been there
only minutes
ago. His kisses sent waves of pleasure through her. This
was the Julian
she knew, or did she?
He raised his head after a while and
looked into Caitlin’s eyes, a
shaky smile on his face.
“I hope I haven’t hurt you too much,”
he whispered.
“Oh, Julian!” She laughed, hugging
him tightly. “You can’t hurt me!”
“I can’t?” He kissed the tip of her
nose tenderly. “Where is your
journalistic objectivity?” he chided her.
She touched his face, caressing fingers
soft, trying to smooth the
lines of worry.
“Even if you hurt me, it doesn’t hurt,”
she said, the sincerity in
her voice unwavering. “Believe me!”
He raised his eyebrows in an expression
of doubt and Caitlin took
hold of his chin, shaking him lightly.
“Julian, you once told me that I can’t
hurt you. It works both ways
you know. As long as you love me...”
He kissed her, assuring her that he
loved her and that he always
would.
He was much gentler then; her soft
moans of pleasure his reward. She
shook violently in his arms, and the dark, sweet wave
engulfed him as if
she had infected him with her feelings. Afraid that she
might see that
his tears weren’t transparent, Julian hid his face against
Caitlin’s
neck; forgetting that her blood was all over him, a few
more red
droplets wouldn’t make any difference. It was the second
time he was
crying in Caitlin’s arms, but these were the tears of
relief. He had
been released from the suffocating nightmare that had
kept him in its
clutches for so many weeks.
Caitlin held him tightly, well aware
of his reaction, believing
though that he was trying to hide the very fact that
he was crying. She
was wondering about the strange influence that blood
seemed to have on
her lover. She had a vague feeling that something similar
had happened
before, that somehow her blood had had a profound impact
on her
relationship with Julian in the past, only she couldn’t
recollect any
details. The name Manzanita surfaced in her mind; she
was quite sure
that something had happened there that she was unable
to remember. Was
it something akin to what had happened in her parent’s
house? No, like
today, it had been her own blood that had flowed, not
Julian’s.
Caitlin realized with fright that
she had opened her heart and her
body to a man who had brought inexplicable mysteries
into her life,
secrets that were beyond her capability to grasp.
He lay quietly now, resting, Caitlin
in his arms. His eyes were
closed but he didn’t sleep and his hold on her would
tighten a little
every time Caitlin moved, as if he were afraid that she
would try to get
away.
She looked at his face. It was calm
and beautiful, now, when the
pain was gone, and the blood had been washed off.
So, what’s wrong? Caitlin wondered.
Why are you different from other
men? Different from other people? she corrected herself.
Reluctantly, she recalled the results
of the Internet search that
she had made and then remembered Nick’s accusation.
No! This is ridiculous, she admonished
herself.
But she looked at the healed skin
on her arm and then at Julian’s
serene face, and she knew that she would not rest until
she knew the
truth.
Nick had not succeeded in seducing
Caitlin away from Julian Luna,
but his outburst had managed to plant a seed of suspicion
in her mind
and it had started to grow.
Daedalus looked over the mess in the
library. He saw the broken
frame, the scattered glass, the blood trail on the carpet;
it wasn’t
difficult to guess what had happened. But what happened
afterwards, he
wondered. Was Caitlin still a mortal? As Daedalus saw
it, everybody’s
life would be easier if Caitlin became Kindred. But Daedalus
wouldn’t
dare suggest that, knowing how much Julian cherished
his mortal lover
and how much he missed his own humanity.
Daedalus was worried. A human living
among the Kindred was bound to
create problems. Sooner or later something would happen.
Sooner or later
Julian Luna would have to make a choice, unless fate
chose for him.
Sooner or later the human woman would know. What then?
Daedalus shook
his head in despair. Why did the Prince have to be so
imperfect? Why did
he have to be so... human?
Daedalus made sure that the library
was cleaned and took the picture
of Julian and his wife to his cellar. He would make a
new frame for it:
one that would hold. He looked at the picture. Was it
really only a
hundred and forty years ago? He still remembered the
night when Archon
Embraced Julian as vividly as if it had happened only
yesterday. He had
known then just as he knew now, that Julian Luna would
court disaster,
forever balancing on the edge between the dark realm
of the Kindred and
the pulsating, restless world of the living.
---