Beloved Vampire (56 page)

lot while doing it. Eventually, the impossible task bored him and he simply had the blocks carted away.

Raithe had used the same brand of cologne Jack used. A macabre coincidence that had haunted her, for a long time after Jack’s death. If she dreamed of her lost fiancé, for the first heartrending moment when she woke in Raithe’s room, her mind would tell her they were in her flat and she’d been having a nightmare. Then she’d open her eyes to find Raithe, with that beloved and familiar male musk, studying her like a scientist contemplating what next torment to visit on his lab animal.

Jessica sank down on her knees in front of Mason’s wardrobe. He’d hung the white shirt he’d worn earlier on a lower hook, so she tugged it free, threading her hands into the too-long sleeves to hug it around herself. Now she avoided looking into the mirror.

How many decades would pass before random thoughts wouldn’t resurrect memories of Raithe? If she decided to take Brian’s serum, it could be a matter of days.

She liked Mason’s cologne, she reminded herself. As well as his soap, and a shampoo that gave her the scent of the ocean, perhaps sea salts. Remembering where he’d first taken her, a faint smile played on her lips. Well, maybe
some
vampires lived in caves.

Closing her eyes, she put her temple against the wardrobe frame, conscious of his quiet breathing behind her on the bed. She tilted her head so she could see him. Had Farida watched him sleep? Of course she had. Did she marvel at the beauty of him? The creatures considered most beautiful in the wild were usually the fiercest predators. Occasionally people made the tragic mistake of taking them from their natural habitat, trying to make them a pet.

A predator was no one’s pet. Stay too close to him, too long, and his nature changed. Or rather, it didn’t, and you ended up the meal.

Oh, Jess. Shut it off for a while. Just be still.
A tear was rolling down her cheek and she didn’t care to look at the why of it. She had a few days. She didn’t have to think about anything yet. Rising to her feet, she closed the wardrobe and slipped out of the room.

She didn’t notice Mason watching her through half-closed eyes. Or experience the whorl of emotions going through him as well.

When she’d put on his shirt, hugged it around her as if she needed the comfort of his arms, he’d wanted to go to her. Instead, he stayed where he was, because he was fighting a battle of his own—between his desire to overwhelm her, override the decision he was sure she was going to make, and love her enough to let her make the choice that would take her from him forever.

042

For the next day and a half, Mason didn’t speak of choices, or the impending arrival of his vampire guests. Jess didn’t, either. She thought of little else when she was away from him, but wisps of thoughts at the corners of her mind only. On some unspoken truce between them, she took the two days as a time to indulge in . . . well, just being with him.

During the day she was with the horses, running, or reading, but she found him more accessible to her thoughts than he’d ever been.

When she discovered a computer in the office Enrique used, she surfed the Internet some, refamiliarizing herself with things that had been beyond her notice for so long. After thirty minutes of it, she wasn’t sure if finding out the latest celebrity baby or marriage scandal, or catching up on the tedious hamster wheel of politics, had been worth the sacrifice of brain cells to read about them.

Try the library, my love.

She did, but she was in the mood for pleasure reading. While Mason was a well-read scholar, he was apparently not an escape reader.
You really need some paperbacks, my lord.

I’m going to pretend you didn’t desecrate my library by suggesting such a thing. But I will send a message to Amara that
she might bring some back for you.

It didn’t take long to realize the warm feeling she carried around with her during the day was contentment. She was happier in these two days than she’d been in a long time.

A sense of uneasiness came with the thought, for she knew it was a temporary lull. When Mason was with her at night, he was like a hot bath, immersing her in mind-numbing sensations of pleasure, stroking her emotions until she was purring, inside and out. He was willing to be her Master, but in an easy, light-handed way, cocooned in romantic gestures, as if they were young lovers.

Farida had been very happy in that cave, because there was nothing to make her unhappy.

On the second afternoon, she knew she couldn’t put it off any longer. She asked him to leave her to her thoughts for a while.

Whether that meant he withdrew from her mind or not, she didn’t know, but so far he’d respected such requests by remaining silent, letting her think. She went outside, hoping the bright sunlight would prevent shadows from closing in on her mind as she finally gave serious consideration to what might be the most important decision of her life.

Stay or go.

In Mason’s arms, as if Raithe feared him even beyond the grave, she’d not been troubled by a single nightmare. Nor had Mason, though she wasn’t sure how often his nightmares occurred. If she wanted to return to a normal life, she would remember nothing of any of it. While she found it hard to believe that any combination of science and magic could eliminate the past six or seven years from her mind, she knew Mason was not the type to exaggerate.

He’d killed without remorse, his only regret that he’d not been able to save the woman he loved. When he spoke of what Farida had endured, it was as vivid to him as if it had happened yesterday, and she well knew how that kind of horror could eclipse issues of morality, right and wrong. Still, it underscored that the savage side of vampires was far more unfettered than that for humans.

Their codes, etiquette and structure managed bloodlust and that savagery, but didn’t prevent it. There were no vampire laws against what Raithe had done to her. A human servant was the property of her Master. End of story.

Yet through Amara and Enrique, even Mason, she’d seen a different side of that. He’d claimed the others she would meet tonight would not be the same as what she’d known, either. She understood all that, hoped it was true, but knew that there would always be vampires like Raithe. And Mason would be her one protection against them, in his world.

Leaving the verandah, she took the horses onto the beach, choosing to walk with them rather than ride. She remembered how he’d taken her riding, letting Coman run wild and free, as he would with no riders at all. Neither of the powerful creatures had ever known cruelty, malicious treatment of any kind. It was in the shine of their eyes, the carefree confidence and joy, as if everything around them was created for their pleasure.

She closed her eyes, pressing her face briefly into Hasna’s neck.
Damn it, be honest with yourself.
Before she’d stepped into Farida’s tomb, if she’d been given this choice, to forget all of it and reclaim her life, she would have jumped at it. Which meant the only thing making her hesitate now was Mason.

It was Farida, too. It was both. By picking up that journal, reading how much she’d loved him, Jessica had been pulled into their story and was loath to leave. As tormented as Mason was by his inability to let Farida know he hadn’t abandoned her, she suspected—no matter the comforts of Heaven—Farida had been tormented by the inability to give him peace, to let him know all had been forgiven.

Was
she
Farida’s voice? Was that her purpose? To give Mason that peace?
He is different with you
, was what Amara had said.

But in reality, she knew Mason mostly through the pages of another woman’s writings. How could she seriously contemplate binding her life to him? A vampire?

Did she doubt she’d find happiness if she remembered none of this? No. Without this darkness in her soul, she’d be the Jessica who embraced life, learning, travel. But she also wouldn’t have Mason, Farida . . . or Jack.

Jessica sighed, squatted and scooped up some wet sand, letting it drip back into the water when it rolled back in, caressing her ankles. Coman snorted behind her. Perhaps it was more than that. She had changed. She was no longer that grad student. Yes, maybe she
could
get that version of herself back if those years were erased from her mind, but there were things this version of herself understood and appreciated that the other never would. Did she tamper with Fate, no matter what horrible path it had forced upon her? Or was Fate an illusion, and Chaos the only true arbiter of a life?

The setting sun startled her, the violet sky providing a backdrop as it cracked like an egg on the horizon to sizzle to its finale. She’d been out here for hours. The horses were trotting back to the paddock she’d left open for them, responding to Jorge’s whistle for dinner.

Realizing Mason would be up soon, eagerness flooded her breast, along with relief to be done with her thinking for another day.

Even though a lingering uneasiness told her she was twisting in the wind, perhaps trying to flutter in stasis forever. And vampires would be arriving later tonight.

Passing through the barn, she nodded to Jorge where he sat in his small office. He had his feet up, listening to a game on the radio, and gave her a friendly wave, his lined face creasing. Things here were familiar. She liked the people, the horses, the master of the estate. But she couldn’t be a human servant.

Oh, God, that was the crux of it. If she could have it all, without that, she’d take it. But it didn’t work that way. Not with vampires.

Only in her fantasies, and she’d been suffused in a pitched battle between her fantasies and nightmares, instead of real life, for far too long. The serum would give her back a
real
life.

Her ebullience with the sunset faded. When she returned to the gardens, climbing the verandah steps overwhelmed her with weariness, intertwined as it was with an inexplicable sense of desolation.

“Excuse me?”

Starting out of her thoughts, her head snapped up. A male vampire stood ten feet away from her.

Instinct kicked in before thought. She scrambled over the balustrade, preparing her shins for the drop to the gardens below. When she was caught from behind, she screamed and kicked, twisting around to strike at the vampire’s face, only to find herself in the center of the verandah, far away from the rail and steps. However, the vampire was now thirty feet away, positioned in front of the ballroom doors, both hands open and held up in a reassuring gesture. Vampires moved fast, but even for vampires, the speed had been exceptional. Her breath was short, heart thundering, legs unsteady. Rather than fear, she suspected it was the aftereffect of moving at the speed of sound.

“Didn’t want you to fall that far, third-mark or no. We didn’t intend to startle you.” The vampire was tall, broad-shouldered, with startlingly beautiful blue eyes. His shoulder-length hair had traces of copper, but less than Mason’s, mixed with appealing russet and sable strands. He also reeked of power so strongly she could feel the vibrations from here.

So much for her rationalizations. She was getting too damn used to impending darkness. She’d gotten careless, being caught outside.
Mason.
Even in her mind, the panic was akin to a scream.

“I’m here.” When his hand settled on her shoulder, she sucked in another startled breath, so quickly she almost choked. He passed a reassuring hand over her hair, then stepped forward, taking the lead position, as was appropriate for a Master and servant. But

her relief was short-lived, because when she returned her attention to the other vampire, two more had stepped out of the ballroom.

One was a lovely blonde with large blue eyes, wearing a disarming attire of slacks and blouse, accessorized with a flame opal necklace. She looked as if she should be teaching elementary school, inspiring a boy’s first crush. The red-haired, green-eyed man who stepped out behind her appeared as if he’d be at home in the thick forest behind them, a rugged outdoor look to him. He brushed the blonde’s arm with casual familiarity, telling Jessica he was her servant.

As she turned her focus to the remaining vampire, Jess realized there was something not quite vampirish about her. A marked servant could tell another vampire, but this one had a different power signature, hard to define. However, the brilliant jade eyes and miles of black hair that would diminish even Amara’s sable tresses told Jess this had to be Lady Lyssa. Because Mason had it, she realized there was an exceptional stillness to the oldest vampires, honed to such perfection it seemed they could disappear from sight right where they stood.

Then she dropped her glance and got another shock, though less intimidating than their initial appearance. Lady Lyssa was holding a blue-eyed baby in her arms. The male infant looked like so many others, but regarded his surroundings, including Jessica, with a vampire’s careful, eerie scrutiny. When he yawned, she glimpsed tiny fangs like a kitten’s.

“It’s silent as a grave around here, Mason,” Lady Lyssa remarked. “Did your staff go on strike?”

“The staff has a couple days off. I’m pleased you’re early. We weren’t expecting you until later tonight.” Mason lifted a brow, casual, but Jess felt the firm, steadying pressure of his mind touching hers, surrounding her.