To Curse the Darkness (16 page)

“I wasn't
pretending
to be your friend,” Christian protested. “I just wasn't…completely transparent about some of my motives.”

“Not transparent?” Julie repeated—loudly, before she remembered why they were trying to avoid making noise. Georgia was in the next room, hopefully resting. “You kidnapped Parker,” she hissed angrily. “A little boy who had nothing to do with any of this. How the fuck can you expect me to trust you after you go and do something like that?”

Christian sighed wearily. “That was a mistake. I realize that now. But surely you know me well enough to know that I never would have allowed him to come to any harm. He was never in any
real
danger.”

“Yeah, well, tell that to his father. Or his mother. Or to the police, for that matter. Do you know what kind of hell you put his family through? And Brennan— Shit.” She broke off, sighing. It shouldn't matter that Brennan would probably never speak to her again. They were no good for each other anyway. The best thing they could do was stay far away from each other. But it hurt to think that what Brennan would probably remember most about her was that she was the reason his son had been kidnapped. “I
don't
know you well enough to know that. What I do know is that Brennan should never have been dragged back into…into all this shit.” She waved her hand at the room around them. “That was wrong. It was wrong and it was cruel.”

“And I can't tell you often enough how sorry I am about that. But please, try and understand. I was running out of time and options, and that just seemed like the quickest way of gaining your trust.”

“Dude.” Julie gaped at him. “That's all kinds of fucked up. Why would something like that make me trust you? It did just the opposite! I mean, who thinks like that?”

“Not the kidnapping, of course. I didn't imagine that would endear me to you if you ever found out. Obviously, I'd never intended for you to do so. I meant the rescue that I'd planned to orchestrate. I'd hoped, when I brought the boy home, it would make me look heroic in your eyes.”

“Maybe at first. But you had to know that I'd figure it out eventually.”

“Of course. That goes without saying. But once Georgia was safe, nothing else would have mattered.”

“Not to you.” Julie sighed. What he was really saying was that Georgia's well-being was his only concern—which was nothing Julie hadn't already figured out. It did nothing to allay her fears, unfortunately. Still, it must be nice to have someone feel that way about you, to be so in love they'd sacrifice anything for you, even other people. Not so nice for the other people, of course. “And speaking of safety, don't think I don't know what it means when you say an intravenous transfusion would do more harm than good. You mean there's less chance Georgia would be harmed by it. You don't actually give a shit about me, even though I'm pretty sure that I'm the one taking all the risks here.”

Really, the more she thought about it, the less she understood why she was even considering it. Was she crazy? A glutton for punishment? A closet masochist? Then she remembered. Conrad. She was doing it for Conrad.

“No, no. That's not it at all,” Christian insisted, but he blushed guiltily when Julie gave him a look.

“Oh no?”

“No, really. There may be some small risk involved, I suppose, or some unpleasantness, but you're in a much better position to handle that kind of thing than she is. You're not the one who's dying, after all.”

“Yeah, but what if you're wrong? Or what if you're lying to me about my chances of getting sick? If I end up catching this disease, it could kill me too, right?” The thought chilled her. The butterflies in her stomach abruptly iced over, becoming razor-winged gliders that caromed painfully around her insides. Yeah, there was no question about it. She was definitely crazy to be considering this.

“I have run tests, you know.” Christian gestured at the table behind him. “Over the past few months. Though not as many as I'd have liked. But still, I honestly don't believe you to be in any danger.”

“I hope you're right.”

Christian regarded her sadly. “But you don't really believe me.”

“Not really. No.”

“Once again, I am truly,
truly
sorry that my actions caused you pain. More than anything, however, I'm sorry that they destroyed your ability to trust in me. I know you likely think me cruel and coldhearted and callous. And I suppose I am deserving of your scorn and your suspicion. But I am not stupid either, nor do I have a death wish. So, if you will believe nothing else that I tell you, at least perhaps you can believe me when I say that I would not willingly place myself in even greater jeopardy than I'm already in—not without good cause.

“You say you understand the level of violence Conrad is capable of when he loses his temper? Well, so do I, dear girl; so do I. Only it's not hypothetical to me. I've seen Conrad in a rage. That is not something I would ever wish to have focused in my direction. If I thought the risk to your health or well-being was too high, I would never have suggested this in the first place. If anything happens to you, Conrad
will
kill me. I harbor no illusions about that.”

Julie opened her mouth to speak, then shut it again. The flaw in Christian's logic was huge and glaring. It was a gigantic hole that had opened at her feet and swallowed up whatever small bits of trust she had left.

Her expression must have given her away because Christian's mouth twisted into a bitter smile. “Oh, yes. I know what you're thinking. That he'll likely kill me anyway, and if that's the case, then what do I lose by hurting you, since I'll be dead either way. Isn't that so?”

“Pretty much, yeah.”

“Then let me reassure you. There are many different ways by which one may meet one's end. And, like you, I am not a fan of pain. I do not wish to die, nor do I wish to lose Georgia to this dreadful disease. Right now, the odds are not with us. But there is one thing we can count on. When the time comes we can at least expect that Conrad will grant us a merciful death. If any harm comes to you, however, that hope is lost.” He paused and flashed a rueful smile in her direction. “Besides, even if you succeed in healing Georgia today, let us not forget that I will still be infected. I would like someday for that not to be the case. There again, you are my only hope. So it is truly in my own best interests to keep you safe, and to keep this process as unobjectionable as possible.”

“Yeah, but I'm not your only hope, am I? There's always Marc.” As soon as the words were out of her mouth, Julie froze. Had she really just said that? She wasn't sure which part of her little speech appalled her more: the fact that she'd thrown her brother to the wolves, or the fact that she'd just made herself expendable.

Christian's lips quirked. “Ah, yes. Your brother—who I'm sure would not be at all put out if I were to in some manner damage or incapacitate his sister. How likely is it, do you think, that he'd be willing to help me under those circumstances?”

Not very
. Julie sighed. “Okay, fine. Point taken. It's just that this all seemed a whole lot simpler when we first talked about it.”

Christian's expression sobered. “You're not wrong about that.” He leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees, and gazed at her earnestly. “I had hoped, at one point, that it
would
be simpler. When we first discussed it…I thought we'd have more time. And, yes, if that were the case, it would have been easier for you. I would have needed just a small amount of blood from you. I could have taken some from Georgia as well, mixed them together here and let that incubate. Then, when it was ready, I'd have injected it back into her vein. It would have been slower, yes, but safer and gentler for you both—”

“I thought you said it would be too dangerous to inject her directly?”

“Not once the blood had been altered. But I can't do it that way now. It would take too much time to process everything. And Georgia…she's declining at such an alarming rate that I'm afraid that's no longer an option.” He reached out and captured one of Julie's hands. “Please. I know I've screwed up. I know you have no reason to trust me, and even less reason to do me any favors, but I'm begging you. Please help me save her. She's everything to me.”

Everything
. Julie sighed. Someday, she really hoped she could inspire someone to feel that way about her. “Well, what are we waiting for?”

Just then, however, she felt the hairs at the back of her neck bristle to attention. “Shit.” She sighed as the door to the suite was pushed open. Christian dropped her hand with guilty haste as Conrad entered the room.

“What are you doing here?” he demanded. “How dare you defy me. You are not to endanger yourself. How many times must I say it?”

“I don't—” Julie bit back the angry words she wanted to say. That she didn't need his permission—or anyone else's. That it was her life, her choice. “I'm not endangering myself,” she said instead, figuring she didn't need to add fuel to this particular fire. It appeared to be burning quite nicely all on its own.

But, oh, she really didn't like the way Christian had distanced himself from her so abruptly. His reaction put her in mind of the time Armand had snuck up on the two of them while they were kissing. Then and now, it left her feeling defensive—as though she'd been caught doing something wrong.

And she didn't like Conrad's out-of-control protective streak either. His stubborn determination to stick with a decision that could only lead to unhappiness for everyone involved was nothing short of stupid.

Damn it, she thought she'd have more time. She knew she hadn't convinced Conrad or completely changed his mind, but she'd been hoping she wouldn't have to.

When she'd left Conrad and Damian in the salon, in the aftermath of Conrad's confession, she'd expected they'd want to take some time to sort through their emotions, maybe talk to each other, reassure each other. They certainly needed to! How many hundreds of years had they spent together? And they still hadn't figured that out?

She'd been hoping the task would keep them busy long enough for her to get through with this. She hadn't thought it an unreasonable assumption, but apparently it was, because here they both were.

She eyed her parental figures with annoyance, grimly pleased to note that Damian had nothing to say. The drawn, unhappy expression on his face was a pretty good indicator that at least she'd made her point with him. If Damian still had objections, she had no doubt she'd be hearing it. There was no way he'd be holding his tongue. His silence, even more than his strained and anxious expression, convinced her that he understood what she'd been trying to convey and that he agreed with her conclusion that Conrad was unlikely to ever recover from being forced to kill his best friend.

On the plus side, at least she was halfway to her goal. She only had to convince one of them now.

“Come and sit down,” she said, crossing to Conrad and taking one of his hands, “and we'll talk about it.”

“There's nothing left to talk about,” Conrad insisted. “My mind is made up.” Still, he let her lead him over to one of the armchairs in the suite's small sitting area.

Once he was seated, Julie dropped to her knees by his side. The anguished look in his eyes made her want to cry. She hated seeing him like this. When she was a child, he'd seemed invincible. She remembered sitting on his lap after a bad dream or some other childish disaster had brought her to tears. Being with him made her feel safe—in part because she knew he'd always be there to protect her. Now, she just wanted to give a little back. Was that so wrong?

She gazed up at him entreatingly. “Why won't you let me do this for you?”

“For me?” Conrad stared at her in horror. “
Carissima,
no. Please don't say that. Since the day you and your brother were born, seeing to your well-being has been my first priority. Would you burden me now with the guilt of knowing that I was the impetus for this decision—a decision that could very well cost you your life? How has this become something you would do for
me
, or to further
my
interests in some fashion? Tell me, please.”

“Georgia saved your life—isn't that what you told me? That none of us would be here if it weren't for her?”

Conrad winced as though the reminder was painful. He swallowed hard before nodding. “Yes. It's true. She saved me from such a state of utter misery that…that I could never have survived without her help. Without her, I would have had to find some way of ending my life long before now. Do you understand what I'm saying? It was torture. I couldn't bear it.”

“So then why wouldn't you want to save her life in return? Or how about all those other people who were infected with this disease? The ones you had to kill over the years, to end their suffering. Didn't you ever wish there were some way to cure them?”

“Yes, child, of course I did. But there
wasn't
any other way. I've told you that several times now.”

“I know,” Julie agreed. “I understand. Up until now, there was nothing you or anyone else could do to help them. And there's still no way that
you
can cure Georgia.
But I
can
. I can save her and Christian too. Just think: if this works, you'll never have to kill anyone else—not ever again. That's gotta be worth some risk, right?”

Conrad brushed her arguments aside. “Never is an inconceivably long time. I'm sure there will be many people who I will deem it necessary to kill. The woman who hurt your brother, for example. Eventually, we will find her. She will pay for what she's done.”