Fallen Embers (31 page)

“Only somewhat?” Damian grumbled, but this time both Conrad and Georgia chose to ignore him.

“But it's still not what you were hoping for,” Conrad agreed. “I understand. I know there's nothing either of us can do to change what's happened. Still, there must be something I can do to make it up to you, at least in part. I would like to try, if possible, to do so.”

Georgia's jaw tightened. Her eyes burned with need as they met his, but her face was grim, as though every bit of hope was held in check. “I want Christian. Give me permission to turn him, to have him as my own. Let me at least have that.”

“I hope you do not plan on turning him into another
Invitus
,” Damian said. “Because I, for one, have had
quite
enough of those.”

Anger sparked in Georgia's eyes. “Have you indeed? Are you certain? Perhaps you have not had
enough
of our attention? If there's been any oversight in that respect, I assure you, I'd be
most happy
to redress it.”

“Silence.” Conrad glared at them both. “He's right, you know,” he told Georgia. “The time has passed for those like us. We must find a way to put an end to the practice.”

She shook her head. “Nothing would make me more happy. But as for Christian, of course I would not do such a thing. I love him, Conrad. And he loves me. I could never do anything to hurt him.” She broke off to laugh bitterly. “Indeed, if only he loved me less, or feared less for my safety, I might have arrived here sooner. Ah, if only he had not detained me as long as he did.”

“So that is the way of it?” Damian glared at her. “This Christian of yours preferred to risk
my
lover's life to preserve his own? ¡
Fabuloso!
I can tell we shall all get along famously. What a happy family we shall be. It shall be such bliss, to see you often and be reminded always of this wonderful occasion.”

“Damian,” Conrad growled in warning. “Hold your tongue.”

“Conrad, please,” Georgia said, looking worried. “Do not hold Christian's concerns for me against him—I beg of you! Indeed, I spoke without thinking. It was
not
his fault; it was mine. I should have arrived at the proper time.”

Conrad shook his head. “No, Georgia. If anyone is at fault, it was I. I see now that I have been too lax, too lenient, too foolishly indulgent with those in my care.” As he spoke, he shot a reproachful glance in Damian's direction. “This reckless behavior nearly cost us all our lives. It should not have happened. In future, I shall take what steps I must to ensure it never happens again.”

Conrad heard the sound of Damian's sharply indrawn breath, but he ignored it; he was far too angry to respond. Just a small measure of loyalty, or even the appearance of loyalty, was that too much to expect from one's lovers?

“Conrad.” Georgia's voice was soft, pleading. It shook with a tremor Conrad could not identify at first.

He bent his attention to her, in an effort to puzzle it out. She tensed at once and shrank away from him. Was she…frightened? Yes, frightened. How wonderful! In one evening he had somehow managed to inspire fear
and
distrust in the two people who mattered most to him.

“Please do not speak so. I'm sure no one could be a better master than you.”

“No, Georgia, I have failed with you as well—not yet as a master, but as a friend. I allowed my control to slip and so did you an injury that can ne'er be repaired. Such was not my intention. If, by allowing you to turn Christian—or anyone else you wish to claim as your own—I can lessen the damage, then so be it. Establish your own demesne, within my House, and make your home wherever it pleases you to do so—it's the least I can do.”

It was also the most he could do for her. But they both knew that, and there was no point in overstressing that fact.

Chapter Seventeen

San Francisco, California

Present Day

Brennan's face was a study of joy and relief as he held his son close. Watching them, Julie couldn't help but smile. She was happy they'd been reunited, proud that she was the one responsible for bringing them back together. She was also broken-hearted once again because this was truly goodbye. Brennan had been right. Vampires
had been
responsible for his son's disappearance. She knew it, even if he didn't—yet. She'd scented the truth when she walked through the door. She even knew who was involved. When the truth came out, she knew Brennan would never trust any of them ever again.

“What do you want to do with the garbage?” Hawk asked, nodding at the two men who'd been guarding Parker, now rendered temporarily unconscious.

Julie gazed at them doubtfully. “I have no idea.” She'd been so focused on finding Parker. Now that they had, she was chagrined to realize she'd given virtually no thought to the question of what to do next.

Hawk nodded. “Okay, well, want me to deal with it?”

“Could you?”

“Hell, yeah.” A wolfish smile brightened his face. “Taking out the trash is kind of my specialty.”

“Good to know,” Julie replied faintly. Actually, she didn't really want to know what Hawk meant to do with the men. As long as it was something Marc would sanction—and she had to believe that it was—then it was likely okay. But then reality intruded a little bit more. “Hey, Bren? How are you going to explain all this to the police?”

The startled look on Brennan's face told her he hadn't thought that far ahead either. She sighed. “You can't mention anything about us, you know.” No wonder the two of them had always gotten along so well. They were like two peas in a pod, two babes in the woods, more clueless than either of them had any right to be. It was just as well they were no longer going to be together.

“Can I make a suggestion?” Hawk asked dryly.

Julie nodded. “Sure, why not?”

“Just give me your phone number, dude,” Hawk told Brennan. “I'll call you on my burner; you tell the cops it was an anonymous tip. Problem solved. They'll probably piss and moan about how you shoulda waited for them to get here before you stormed the place and broke your kid out, but people rarely think straight in a crisis. You can sell it.” He glanced at Julie. “You probably want to get out of here beforehand though. Just in case.”

“Right.” Julie didn't bother asking what “just in case” meant. She figured that was something else she was better off not knowing. It was fine, she had stuff to do anyway. “I'll leave you the car, in case you need it. You can either bring it back, or I'll pick it up at the warehouse later.”

She glanced at Brennan and forced a smile. “Bye, Bren. Glad it all worked out.” Then she turned and left, before the tears had a chance to fall.

By the time she got back to the mansion, Julie's sorrow had transmuted into rage. How dare he? How dare
they
? Pretending ignorance and concern, wasting her time with nonsense she still didn't understand. A cab pulled up in front of the gate just as she got there. She ignored it and continued walking. Bypassing the gate, she headed straight for Marc's tree. It was the quickest form of ingress and she was in no mood to waste time.

She was just about to leap for a branch when someone grabbed her arm and spun her around. “I need to talk to you.”

“Armand?” For one brief, joyous instant, caught up in the relief of seeing him again, Julie forgot everything else. She flung her arms around his neck and hugged him tight…until reality once again intruded. She pushed him away. “What are you doing here? They told me you'd left town!”

Armand nodded. “I did.” He glanced at the wall she'd been about to scale and frowned. “What were you doing? Climbing trees?”

Julie shrugged. “I was in a hurry. It seemed the quickest way in.”

“Well, no matter. You can't go in there. There are things going on you know nothing about.”

Julie snorted in amusement. “Yeah? Well, there're things going on that
you
know nothing about either. Now, if you'll excuse me…” Without waiting for him to reply, she jumped and caught hold of the nearest branch.

Armand grabbed for her, but she quickly pulled her legs up, beyond the reach of his grasp, then quickly scrambled higher, before transferring to yet another branch, swinging over the fence to drop onto the lawn. The sound of muffled curses and hurried footsteps disappearing in the direction of the drive let her know Armand was headed for the gate. Determined to make the most of her headstart, Julie sprinted toward the house. She was in sight of the steps that led to the front door when Christian stepped out of the shadows, directly into her path.

“Hullo, Julie,” he said in a voice that was hollow and wooden—completely unlike his usual animated tones.

She felt the hair rise at the back of her neck. Something was wrong with him. But that was just too damn bad. Whatever it was, she was too angry to care. “Don't you ‘hullo, Julie' me,” she said as she marched right up and poked him in the chest. “You kidnapping sonofabitch. Do you know what you put that family through?”

“I'm sorry,” he replied, his voice still toneless. His sullen expression was at odds with the agonized grief that gleamed in his eyes. “So sorry.” He raised his hands in what she assumed was a placating gesture—until, once again, her arm was grabbed and she was spun around. This time, however, she found herself held roughly in a hard, unyielding clasp. In the time it took her to recognize what was happening, her arms had been pinned behind her and one large hand was clamped across her mouth. She was lifted off her feet and half-dragged, half-carried into the trees.

“I'm sorry for this.” This time it wasn't Christian who spoke, but Georgia. The look on her face was fell and hopeless, but it was her next words that caused the butterflies in Julie's belly to spontaneously ignite. “I'll try to make this as painless for you as possible.”

Georgia's hand was shaking as she gently smoothed the hair from Julie's face, tucking stray locks behind her ear to better bare her throat. Such a terrible waste. She'd always hated having to kill the young ones, those who'd barely tasted life. It seemed so massively unfair.

“Darling, please.” Christian's voice broke under the strain of trying to defy her compulsion. “Don't do this. I'm begging you.”

“Be quiet, love.” The continued stress of keeping him in line was already taking almost all her energy; she had nothing left for arguing.

“But she's
not
sick
—why won't you listen?”

“He's lying,” she explained to Julie. “I think that must mean he loves you very much, don't you?” Knowing you were loved—that had to ease the pain of dying somewhat, didn't it? “And I hope you understand that has
nothing
to do with why I'm doing this. Indeed, under other circumstances, I would be happy to know that someone would be there for him after I'm gone.”

Julie's eyes widened. A muffled whimper left her lips. She kicked and bucked so violently that Georgia grew worried. At this rate, the girl would either hurt herself, or succeed in wrenching out of Christian's grasp. Neither option was acceptable. She snapped at Christian. “Hold her still!”

This time it was Christian who whimpered. His muscles bulged. The veins on his neck stood out in sharp relief. But he did as she commanded. Georgia felt her energy draining away, even faster than before. She thanked her stars that a small reprieve was within her grasp. Once she'd killed her, she would drain Julie's blood. That would give her strength enough to carry out the rest of her tasks. She'd convince Conrad that Julie had attacked her—the inevitable result of her illness. She'd insist that she'd been caught off-guard, that she had not expected Julie to bite her. She'd claim she had contracted the disease from Julie—rather than the other way around. Yes, Conrad would still kill her and Damian would doubtlessly remain suspicious, but the story would hold. No one would be able to prove otherwise. Christian would be safe; with that, she'd be content.

She smiled sadly, apologetically at Julie. “As I said, I'm so very sorry this has happened to you. It's a dreadful disease, as I'm sure you've already begun to find out. It weakens you. It drives you mad. And, painful! Oh, my dear, you have no idea. Your body literally cannibalizes itself from inside out. In the end stages, where I am now, your only source of succor is the blood of others like yourself, those who carry the disease themselves. Please understand, there is no hope, no cure, no way at all to survive. You are going to die—either by my hand or by Conrad's. If possible, I'd like to spare him the pain of having to kill someone he obviously adores.”

“Let her go, Georgia.” Armand's voice shook so hard it was barely recognizable.

Furious, Georgia spun around to face him. What was he doing back here? Why now? And how much had he overheard? “Do not interfere in what you don't understand,” she snapped, struggling even harder to maintain control. “She's ill. She must be killed.”

Armand shook his head. “No. You're the one who's ill. I know the truth!”

He was bluffing. He had to be. But two could play at that. “What truth is that? Are you saying you know from whom she caught it? Was it you?”

Her plan was falling apart. But she could still salvage it. She need only kill Armand.

Startled by the trend of her own thoughts, Georgia pressed a shaky hand to her lips. What was she thinking? Armand wasn't ill. She couldn't justify taking
his
life too, could she? How far into madness had she already descended?

That single moment of inattention was all Christian needed to break free of her control. He pushed Julie away from him. “Go!” he ordered, then turned and attempted to restrain Georgia instead.

“You fool! What have you done?” she hissed as they grappled with each other.

“You have to listen to me,” he insisted.

But she didn't actually. She hooked one of her legs behind his, pushed hard on his chest, and down he went. She stomped on his leg, until she was fairly certain she heard the snap of bone breaking. Then she left him lying there, cursing and groaning, and sped off in pursuit of the others. Guessing that they'd head for the house, she circled around to cut them off.

“Stop this,” Armand pleaded, after she'd cornered them. “You have to stop. Conrad will kill you if you don't.”

“Conrad will kill me regardless,” she replied. She was horrified by the hysterical laughter that bubbled up with the words, making her sound as crazy as she felt. “There's never been any doubt about that!” She turned to Julie. “And you're deluding yourself if you think he won't do the same to you.”

Clearly the impact of her words was lessened by their breathless, slightly giddy delivery. The girl just stared at her in wide-eyed confusion, peeking at her over Armand's shoulder, shaking her head, saying nothing.

Georgia found herself praying for patience and restraint. As if things were not already bad enough, she could feel the hunger rising within her. Her need for blood was growing more intense. Soon she would not be picky about whose she took. She gulped for breath while she waited for her racing heart to slow, for the laughter to stop, for the hunger to subside. When she was finally able to speak calmly, she tried appealing to Julie one more time. “Please. You seem like a sensible girl, and I've no wish to hurt you.”

“You just tried to
kill
her!” Armand roared in protest.

Georgia sighed. Apparently she still sounded crazy. But what part of this did they not understand? Killing Julie was not a choice at this point. Hurting her, on the other hand, was. “Send him away,” she instructed Julie. “Let us talk about this like two reasonable women.”

Before Julie could answer, the sound of footsteps on the gravel path reached their ears. Georgia oriented on the sound, while still being careful to block the path to the house. The vampire who jogged up the drive toward them was not anyone with whom Georgia was familiar. If Armand's expression was anything to go by, he was equally perplexed.

“Oh, Julie, hey. There you are,” the intruder called out, greeting the girl with a sunny smile, seemingly unaware of the crackling tension in the air, the strangeness of the situation.

Julie stared at him in alarm. “Hawk! Wh-what are you doing here?”

“I was just—you know—in the neighborhood.” He was breathing hard as he boldly stepped into the space between them. Georgia snarled in disbelief. He must be acting. No one could be this much of a fool.

A shudder ran down the man's spine, but he continued to keep his back to Georgia, staying right where he was, chattering inanely and pretending not to know she was there. “So, I figured, why not stop by and say hello? I still had to bring you back your keys and… And, anyway, I thought maybe you wanna run 'em up to the house. You know, like now? Before you lose them?”

Idiots.
Georgia shook her head, feeling older and more tired than ever before. She was impressed with their bravery, but did they really think she didn't know what they were up to? Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Christian, limping from the woods, headed her way. Her heart twisted in pain. She had never wanted to hurt him, and yet she had. Distressing though the sight was, it was still not quite enough to distract her completely. In the instant Julie made her move, Georgia moved with her.

She lunged for the girl—and would have caught her, too—if the unfortunate “Hawk” hadn't stumbled intentionally into her way. Georgia's temper ignited. She tore into the man, only distantly aware of Julie's blood-curdling scream and the pounding of footsteps racing up behind her. Her opponent went down in an instant. Georgia thrust him aside and would have started after Julie once again if she hadn't been tripped and tackled and dropped to the ground under the combined weight of both Christian and Armand.