City of the Fallen (22 page)

“Isabelle’s right.”

Her heart skipped a beat when Marcus’s voice came from behind her, relief and warmth surging through her. How had he gotten there? Another secret door?

Marcus stepped into the light, his massive form shrinking the darkness around her. She listened to her own heart change beats as he leaned forward and locked his eyes on hers. His eyes were the color of charcoal, deep and dark and dangerous.

“Are you OK?”

The unexpected softness in his voice was racking. She nodded before turning her head back towards the intruder.

The intruder stepped forward. His smile was gone and he was obviously unhappy, either to find the king there or because he’d lost the chance to get his hands on her.

“What’s this? Is your majesty taken by a human?” The mix of surprise and irritation at losing his prey was buzzing in the air.

“Why are you here, Patrick? You were told you weren’t welcome.”

Marcus’s arm extended sideways to grab her and push her behind him, shielding her.

“Is that how you welcome your brother after so long?”

The words hit her hard, making her gasp. Brother? It couldn’t be. She searched for a touch of resemblance in their features and couldn’t find any. Patrick looked like a predator. No warmth in his face, no hint of passion. Just eyes the color of the night.

The entire courtyard was alive with the energy hissing between the two vampires. So intense it was just about visible. She could feel the fight about to break and her whole body stiffened in anticipation.

“How about sharing?” the intruder whispered, and Marcus’s body tensed, his back turning into stone.

“No. And I want you out.”

The vampire took a step backwards casually, without losing his smile.

“Just passing by. But not for the last time.” His eyes moved towards her and she caught a glimpse of his fangs, fully extended. “See you soon, brother. You too, darling.”

Patrick jumped up, almost as if he was about to walk on the wall. He moved too fast for her to realize what was happening. A half second, the blink of an eye, and he was gone over the wall and into the darkness outside the compound.
 

Marcus’ body was still a rock and when her hands grazed his back, his muscles twitched and clenched under her touch. Then he turned around to face her, his fangs still out. He looked ready for war. As soon as he locked his eyes with her, however, his face softened. Only then did she realize her legs were shaking.

“I think I need to sit down.”

“Inside,” he told her.

He touched the wall behind them and a door opened. Another door that shouldn’t be there. He gently pushed her through the short passageway before opening the second door into his bedroom.

She reached the bed just in time before her knees collapsed.

“Is he really your brother?”

Marcus frowned. “He’s more than that. He’s been wanting the throne for centuries. And for the first time, I now have a weak spot he can target.”

She could see the tension in his beautiful face. “What’s that?”

“You,” he said and Isabelle’s world turned upside down.

She remained still, silent, waiting for him to correct himself. But he just stood there, his eyes melting back into a silvery grey. “What…?”

“Truth time,” he said softly, but it sounded like an order. “You first.”

And she decided she wanted to give in. No more lies, no more hiding. There was no point and she was tired. And the prospect of Patrick taking over as the king was more terrifying than anything she could imagine.

“How do you know Patrick?” He nudged her to start talking.

Blood drained away from her face. “On my way here, from… I ran into him. It wasn’t pleasant.”

He shook his head. “How did you get away?”

“The sun was coming up… Or at least I thought that was the reason at the time…” She hesitated. “I don’t think he knows he can’t charm me.”

“Did he touch you?” he muttered, a hint of suppressed rage in his voice.

 
“No, he didn’t have a chance.”

He groaned. “But now he knows I care about you and he’ll do whatever he can to use that against me.”

The words resonated in her chest. “You care? As in ‘don’t kill my pet’ care?”

He shot her a dry look. “No, Belle.” He crouched in front of her and grabbed her hands. “Isn’t it obvious I care about you? Seems fitting that after a few hundred years of being alone, I end up falling for a human.”

Isabelle’s heart contracted, then took off on a mad race. The world turned and twisted around her and inside her. She was sure she was supposed to say something at that moment, but she couldn’t come up with any words. The buzzing in her ears intensified. “You… it can’t be.”

One of his hands moved sideways, grabbing the back of her thigh in a move both comforting and possessive. “Why? Because I’m supposed to be a monster?”

She exhaled, her soul surrendering. It was a lost battle, trying to deny how she felt. It had been a lost battle for a long time—maybe from the time he touched her. She had been denying her feelings because they seemed like a betrayal to the entire human race, but denying them was a betrayal to her own soul.

The night got darker and deeper as the first spatters of rain hit the window.

“Because I’m supposed to hate you,” she finally conceded.

He gave her a pointed look, his eyes unreadable in the silence of the room. “And do you?”

The storm outside matched the one raging on inside her. She felt the urge to open a window, let the storm in to embrace them both—but she didn’t move.

“I’ve tried… I… No.” She took a deep breath. “Remember a while ago, when I said I was yours?”

The silver in his eyes seemed to sparkle with unread emotions. “Yes,” he said.

“I meant it,” she finally said and as the words came out, relief washed over her.

Marcus straightened up, his hand reaching for the back of her head. When his lips closed on hers, there was a gentleness there that brought tears to her eyes. The warmth of his touch spread over her and her chest contracted.

“I came here to kill you,” she said when he finally broke the kiss.

He inched away and stayed silent, waiting for her words.

“You… humankind is more or less gone. We were hoping to rebuild, survive somehow. We thought maybe if the king was dead, it would help. I don’t know.”

“And you were the appointed killer?”

“It was my idea.”

He got up and turned around, walking a few steps, away from her and towards the window. “What now?”

What now?
The question thundered around in her head. She had no answer for that. “I don’t know, Marcus. Everybody I love is suffering, hiding, fading away… I don’t want them to die.”

He turned around to face her. He had never looked more human and more magical than he did at that moment. “Even if you could kill me, that would only open the door for Patrick to take over.”

She got up, stumbling slightly. Her legs were slowly returning to normal. “I don’t want you to die anymore.”

He smiled his half smile. “Well, that’s a relief.”

She shook her head. “It doesn’t make any sense, Marcus. It’s not like we can truly be together and pretend we’re the same. Or pretend the world isn’t dying around us. I don’t even know who… what… you really are.”

He moved with the speed of lightning, materializing in front of her before she even realized he had moved. “You mean things like this?” He grabbed her chin and pushed her head slightly backwards so he could lock eyes with her. “It’s all an illusion, Belle. It doesn’t really matter.” He noticed her trying to speak and he placed a finger on her lips to prevent it. “But I can answer any questions you have.”

Questions. She had a world of them. And now that she had told him the truth about her presence in the compound, she was finally free to ask them. Except that suddenly, she didn’t care. She just wanted to stay there, close to him, pretending the world outside didn’t exist.
 

He smiled. “Well?”

His fingers traced her face, as if he was savoring the memory of her skin. It was almost easy to forget he wasn’t human in moments like those. Almost. Because deep down, there was a war raging in her soul. There was no way she could keep denying what she felt for him. And yet she also couldn’t deny what that meant for everybody else out there, counting on her to do something.

She swallowed hard. “I want to know why me? Where are the female vampires?”

Marcus rubbed his neck. “I don’t have a real answer for the first question, Belle. There’s something special about you.”

“Because you can’t charm me?”

“That’s only part of it,” he said. “I guess you could say I was intrigued from the beginning. And that’s not something that happens often.”

“What about my other question?”

“There haven’t been any female vampires since the sixteenth century,” he said. “We had a big outbreak of the void and it affected the females of our species much more rapidly. There haven’t been any female vampires since then.”

A chill ran through her. “So you’ve been without a partner all this time?”

His eyes probed into hers. “Until now.”

She let the words wash over her. There was a roughness to him that she respected—the kind that came from suffering and surviving. The kind she felt too. So hearing him confess that he also felt something at the other end of the spectrum was a revelation. One that was just as unexpected as it was welcomed.

He lay down on the bed and signaled for her to come along. Before she moved, before she let him touch her, there was one thing she needed to know. Something only he could answer.

“What about the rest of the world?”

He didn’t ask the obvious “what about it” follow-up question. He didn’t blink or look confused or try to ignore the reality behind her words.

“How much do you know?” he asked instead.

She shook her head, a cold shiver finding her way down her spine and into her chest.

“Not much. Communications were down before we got details of what was happening in other countries.”