JAVIER (17 page)

“You’re filthy.” She said
abruptly as she surveyed his clothes streaked with dirt and sand from the logs.
He smelled of the fresh sweat that made his shirt cling to his body and under
that was the scent of his skin which always made her feel quite dizzy. Guilt
surged through her; here he was building his dead consort’s pyre and she was
lusting after his body and his golden brown eyes.

Javier smiled slowly and
Cassia’s heart pounded.

“Well, a very good night
to you too. It’s barely past midnight, Rafe brought you back early.”

“He didn’t. I shifted
back by myself. I’ll leave you to it.” Cassia started to turn away but Javier
grabbed her arm, his smile disappearing instantly;

“What happened? Did he
try something? Cass, answer me.” Aggression darkened his eyes in a flash and
Cassia reached out to calm him;

“No, no Javier. He was a
complete gentleman. I…I just wasn’t in the mood. I’m sure I bored him stupid
and was a total blow-out as a date. I pleaded a headache and left him to the
attentions of a very happy blonde.”

Javier stepped back and
raked his hand through his hair as he took a calming breath then smiled again;

“Good, that’s alright
then. Ditched for a blonde…Cassia Mathrafal, what an insult.”

“Ditched voluntarily
Javier of Seville.” Cassia answered severely as she flicked her long hair back
over her shoulder. Really, he could be insufferable.

They stood together in
awkward silence for a moment before Javier said softly;

“Are you alright Cass?
I’m so sorry about last night…”

Cassia reached up and
covered his mouth gently;

“Stop. Now is not the
time. You must focus on what you are doing for Charlotte. I could help you
build it like I helped my mother.”

Javier took her hand and
held it in both of his as he looked over at the pyre.

“You know the ritual
Cass, a female may have assistance building her consort’s pyre but a male may
not. I must do this myself; I need to do this myself. I will complete the
ritual tomorrow; I should have done it many years ago.”

Cassia squeezed his
hands;

“You’re doing it now.
Your friends here won’t leave you to go through it by yourself. I’m sure their
voices will join yours to convey her soul back to the stars Javier.”

“And you? Do you
think…could you come too Cass?”

Cassia looked down and
cleared her throat as she shook her head;

“I’m not sure that would
be right. I didn’t know her, I wasn’t her friend.”

“But you are mine. Sorry,
I should not have asked.” Javier’s hands tightened quickly before he stepped
back; “I need to get on.”

He turned to go then
stopped;

“Would you look in on
Beatriz for me? I explained what I was doing and she seemed to cope with it but
I would feel happier if someone was keeping a close eye on her.”

“Yes, yes of course. I’ll
find her, don’t worry.” It was the least she could do, Cassia thought, wishing
she could help him through this and knowing he had to do it alone. Ignoring the
voice in her head telling her that it was wrong; wrong time, wrong place, she
stepped forward and threw her arms around Javier hugging him tightly;

“You’ll be fine Javier,
you’ll do it right, I know you will. Everything is going to be fine.”

Pathetic choice of words,
she thought, words that didn’t express even half of what she wanted to say to
him. She felt Javier’s arms pull her in close then his cheek rested against her
head. They stood locked together in silence as he took a deep breath in then
let it out slowly until she felt the tension ease out of his body. It was
intimate and comforting and curiously terrifying. She could stay like this
forever and never let him go; everything felt…right. Reluctantly she pulled
away, holding him at arm’s length;

“Go. I’ll find Beatriz.”
She gave him a little push then nodded in acknowledgement as he smiled his
thanks and ran back across the beach to the pile of logs.

All the way back to the
chateau Cassia worked hard at blocking out her thoughts and distracting herself
with tiny inconsequential details. What kind of idiot walked through a pine
wood with bare feet? Pine woods smelled lovely; the whole island was pine
scented. Perhaps she should buy a little house in the south of France, Flavia
would love it. Picking up her bag and shoes she buzzed for entrance and as the
locks disengaged with heavy clunks it was as though someone had opened the lock
gates in her heart and the feelings poured through in a torrent. She was in
love with Javier of Seville. Completely, totally, head over heels. What an
utter bloody disaster.

She tip-toed across the hall as quickly as she could,
her bare feet making no sound. The last thing she wanted was to have to talk to
anyone. The starkly elegant Rosa was heading for the stairs carrying a huge
pile of white garments; mourning robes Cassia noted.

“Rosa, can you tell me where I might find Beatriz
please?” she asked.

Rosa’s face never changed as though the spectacle of
evening dress clad women creeping about the house was an everyday occurrence;

“Miss Beatriz is in the schoolroom Madam. Lessons
continue for a further two hours.”

Cassia thanked her and ran upstairs; Beatriz would be
kept occupied in lesson time, she’d catch up with her afterwards. Meanwhile she
needed time alone to think, to recover; hopefully Flavia was busy elsewhere.

Relieved to find the guestroom empty Cassia sat on the
edge of her bed feeling curiously numb.  Looking up she caught sight of herself
in the long dressing mirror; how ironic that she should be wearing red, the
traditional colour worn by brides. Wrapping her arms round her body she rocked
herself slowly. She shouldn’t have done it; she should have been stronger and
resisted the aching desperate hunger that had led her to take his blood. She
should at the very least have used his wrist not his throat but he had wanted
it too. She had seen the hunger and longing in his eyes and she had felt his arousal,
had held him tightly in her arms as he had shuddered with pleasure. She hadn’t
known that taking his vein right there would arouse him sexually.  That was one
of the many mother daughter conversations that had never taken place and Flavia
was right about her spending too much time amongst the Humans.

Her body had answered his, the passion and desire
pooling in her and she knew that however much she protested about quick flings
she would have given herself to him right then if he had made the move. He
hadn’t. His honesty touched her at the same time as it caused that bitter
misery to twist inside her.

This was where love got you. Cassia touched her lips,
her body felt vibrant and energized. His blood flowed in her. As his life
force, his taste had burst into her mouth it had been the most intimate and
magical thing she had ever experienced. For that short time nothing else had
existed; just the two of them anchored together. She was in love with him, she
loved him. She couldn’t bear to think about being without him. What if he never
found his way to her? Could she live in the shadow of his dead consort? No, the
answer was no.

Cassia thought of long lonely years ahead and jumped
up, unfastening her dress. She’d change and go and find her sister and then
little Beatriz. There was no point breaking her heart over something she
couldn’t control. Zipping up her jeans she pulled a T-shirt over her head,
tugging it into place impatiently. She was a fighter, a survivor, independent
and wealthy in her own right; she would get over him. Shutting the door behind
her Cassia marvelled at the myriad ways there existed to fool oneself.

CHAPTER 15

The sound of Javier’s boots rang out in the old stone
passageway as he marched along it. Every torch was lit; the flames flickering
on the rough walls. He rolled his shoulders to ease away some of the tension
feeling the comforting presence of his great Spanish sword strapped to his
back. It was a weapon only a warrior was allowed to carry under the strict
rules of the ancient ritual.

He shortened his stride slightly to accommodate the
folds of the long white robe he wore over his clothes. Tied at the waist with a
rope like belt its wide sleeves fell to his wrists and a hood covered his head.
As he had knelt in front of the dais in the ancient circular room from dawn
till sun down he had been grateful for the warmth of the finely woven white
wool.

The hours had passed quickly and he had barely
registered the discomfort in his knees from the cold stone floor. His forehead
had rested against the cross guard of his sword as he gripped it with both
hands; its tip pressed into the floor. He was supposed to have passed the time
in silent contemplation but he had talked. This was going to be his final
conversation with his consort and he was going to say everything he needed to;
tell her everything he wanted her to know. Ask her the question he needed to
ask.

LaSalle had brought him a goblet of wine at sunset and
had left after a quick hard pat to his shoulder. Words had not been necessary.
The flaming pitch torches changed to electric lights as Javier entered the
newer part of the castle. The box felt light and he thought about the many
times he had swept Charlotte up in his arms and carried her. She had always
pretended to protest and had called him an incurable romantic but then she
would link her arms round his neck and rest against his shoulder and smile.
Carrying her like this had never been part of the plan.

Javier sighed as he entered the passageway leading up
to the chateau. It was unusually quiet and he wondered if LaSalle had halted
normal operations. He ascended the staircase into the chateau’s hall and
stopped, almost overcome by the scene awaiting him. In a neat silent line
leading all the way to the massive main doors stood the domestic staff
impeccably turned out in freshly pressed black and white uniforms. At their
head were Rosa and Madame Lemond in white mourning robes much like his and, as
Javier acknowledged them and bowed his head briefly before continuing they
returned his bow formally. This was for Charlotte, not for him.

For once the doors were thrown wide open and Javier
compressed his lips tightly as he walked through them into the warm scented
night. A deep calm seemed to have settled inside him and he felt a heightened
awareness of everything around him; it was the same awareness he felt just
before going into combat. It was as though he could see every leaf, every blade
of grass, every star in the sky. He could hear the flutter of a moth’s wing
and, as he continued through the pine woods down to the beach he could smell
the individual scents of his fellow warriors and their consorts as they fell
into step behind him.

Placing the box centrally on the five foot pyre he had
constructed Javier stared in astonishment. Someone had threaded white flowers
through all the logs so the simple wooden structure was transformed into
something from one of Beatriz’s fairy tales. Catching a movement out of the
corner of his eye he turned and there was old Louis standing solemnly with his
group of gardeners, all of them clutching their wide straw hats against their
hearts. Old Louis, who seemed always to have been old, was the head gardener on
the Island; a Half-blood as were all the gardening staff. He had worked closely
with Charlotte and the two of them had created the beautiful flower and produce
gardens that surrounded the chateau; many of them cleverly designed to be
enjoyed at night.

Blinking fiercely Javier turned back to the pyre and
reaching behind him drew his great sword. It eased from its scabbard with a
hiss. Immediately there were numerous identical metallic hisses behind him as
he turned to face his friends.

He knew they were all there even though the hoods of
their robes shadowed their faces. He could identify each of his fellow
commanders from the way they stood and their trademark swords. He smiled as he
saw Ysabeau standing by LaSalle; she was the only female who carried a sword,
holding it firmly in her hands with its point down in the sand. He spotted
Katie by Max’s tall broad figure as she reached up and dabbed her eyes quickly.
Katie had been Charlotte’s closest friend. Hera stood by Gabriel; she had never
known Charlotte but was present as his friend. As she lifted her head to meet
his eyes he felt her reach out and touch his mind with hers; it was gentle and
calm and reassuring. Luca and Rafe stood side by side, their heads bowed.
Lastly he saw the stout robed figure of Madame Lemond and the thin, ever
dignified shape of Rosa; they had followed the warriors down to the beach.

All here but the one he looked for; the one he needed
to see the most. Well, he could understand it but still he swept his eyes round
one more time, just in case. He caught her scent before he saw her, that warm
frankincense scent of hers. There was a movement in the treeline and Javier’s
heart lifted. Cassia stood just at the edge where the woods met the beach, a
tall upright figure in white. She gave him a slight formal bow which he
returned before turning back to the pyre.

Chanting the words of the old ritual he swept his
sword across his left forearm with a featherlike stroke and as the blood welled
out of the cut and started dripping he held it over the box, moving his arm
till the box was covered evenly with his blood. His blood that had nourished
his consort through the nine decades they had been bonded. This was his final
offering. He stepped back and there was a movement at his side then his left
arm was taken and the long cut bound firmly to stop the bleeding. It was Rafe
who acknowledged his thanks with a nod before returning to his place.

Javier picked up the flaming torch stuck into the
beach by the pyre and took a deep breath. As he began the ancient words of the
salutation to the dead he was joined by the others and as their voices mingled
he walked slowly round the pyre lighting it in the places he had prepared.  The
wood had been bone dry and the precious oils kept just for this purpose had
soaked right in. The pyre fired up immediately and it wasn’t long before it was
roaring with heat intense enough for him to retreat to a safer distance. He
looked up as the flames and sparks leapt towards the clear star lit
Mediterranean sky taking Charlotte ever upwards. Their voices soared into the
night returning her to the great infinite universe they all sprung from and to
which they all returned after their many centuries on this earth.

When the final benediction had been recited Javier
knelt on the sand watching the smoke and the flames rise until the fire had
completely consumed the pyre. He wasn’t aware of the hours passing; his mind
and body seemed to have settled into a deep meditative state, a lightening. He
thought…nothing. He let everything go as he imagined his thoughts floating up slowly
with the smoke.

When he finally stood dawn was trailing the first of
her pale fingers across the sky and the pyre was reduced to embers. He turned,
expecting to be alone but they were all still there, rising to their feet with
him.  Javier looked across at the trees and saw that Cassia had not left the
shadow of the woods from where she had kept her long vigil. It was only as they
all started back across the beach that the white of her robe disappeared into
the trees.

As always after a funeral the needs of the living
seemed doubly heightened. As they returned to the chateau Madame Lemond
bestowed a quick kiss on each of Javier’s cheeks then bustled into the kitchen
after announcing that a light meal would be served shortly. Rosa collected
everyone’s white robes and hurried away after a rare smile and a formal bow.
The others followed LaSalle and Ysabeau into the salon where LaSalle got busy
pouring generous drinks for everyone. Javier heard him reassuring old Louis and
his gardeners of their welcome in the house and at his table. He smiled as he
listened in to their conversation; LaSalle was always himself whether he was
talking to the High Councillor or a humble gardener.

Gabriel squeezed his shoulder tightly as Hera took his
arm and gently unwound the bandage, skilfully and almost painlessly unsticking
it from the dried blood.

“Here, let me take care of that for you.” she said
softly.

Javier watched as she shut her eyes and rested her
hand gently over the long wound. Her power to heal would never cease to fill
him with awe, he thought, as heat flowed into his arm followed by a soft golden
light emanating from her hand. The light slowly suffused his whole forearm
before suddenly disappearing leaving only healthy skin with no trace of the
injury. She opened her eyes and smiled her beautiful slow smile;

“There.” she said, patting his arm as if he was a
small child before reaching up and touching both her hands to his temples;

“May I?” she asked,

Javier looked over her shoulder to Gabriel for
permission. Hera still hadn’t completely grasped how very territorial a male
Vampire could be over his bonded consort. Gabriel smiled slightly and nodded
once.

“Go ahead, I trust you.” Javier murmured.

He knew she was a powerful Empath; Chronus had told
him. The sensation as she searched inside still took him by surprise and he had
to relax deliberately as his mind instinctively resisted. It only lasted
minutes and before she let him go he felt a tide of love and friendship and
support fill him up with warmth.

“That’s from all of us to you, Javier,” said Hera, “I
sense your peace. You have so much love in you my friend, so much light, don’t
waste it.”

As Hera headed into the salon with Gabriel; his dark
head bent to her pale gold, Javier remembered LaSalle’s words. She was, indeed,
Gabriel’s light. The one person capable of saving him from the darkness that
had almost overwhelmed him. That they had met was miraculous. It made him
almost believe that there was a greater plan for them all; that somewhere,
someone existed who was made just for you. Javier shook his head and smiled
ruefully to himself; Charlotte had been right to call him an incurable
romantic. Perhaps Hera was right too; his finding Cassia was a blessing, not a
curse. He was lucky.

Running upstairs he made his way to the spacious
informal den next to the schoolroom that was used exclusively by the children
of the house and their fellow students from the Island. Flavia had offered to
take over from the tutors and keep the chateau children occupied until their
parents returned. It seemed unusually quiet in the corridor outside the den as
Javier pushed the door slightly ajar and stood taking in the scene.

Flavia sat comfortably in a huge armchair with little
Francesco tucked against her side; she was telling the children one of their
ancient legends. Spellbound at her feet and sprawled on giant floor cushions
were Philippe LaSalle and Max’s Leo and Bella. Beatriz and Cassia were curled
up together in another squashy armchair and as Javier watched he saw his
daughter rest her head against Cassia’s shoulder. Cassia looked down and smiled
then pressed a gentle kiss onto Beatriz’s hair.

The scene was so tranquil that Javier pulled the door
silently shut and returned downstairs. As he was engulfed in Ysabeau’s perfumed
embrace and had a generous measure of his favourite whisky pressed into his
hand by Max he found himself pondering on the nature of families and love.
About how, close as he was to his parents in Spain he was bound to the people
in this house by ties he would give his life for. And love? It seemed to him
that there were infinite ways for people to tell you they loved you without
actually saying the words.

Madame Lemond’s light supper turned out to be a table
groaning with delicacies. Everyone piled their plates and topped up their
glasses. Old stories were recounted, lost loved ones were remembered and toasts
were drunk. It would have been easy for events to have become melancholy but
the arrival of Cassia and Flavia with their little posse of ravenous children
lifted the mood reminding the adults of the immediacy and the vibrancy with
which children lived their lives.

Hours later Javier dropped a kiss on Beatriz’s
forehead. She had fallen asleep the moment her head had hit the pillow.
Trailing wearily into his room he sat heavily on the edge of the bed and
started unlacing his boots. He and Cassia had exchanged only the usual formal
words people said on these occasions and she had excused herself early pleading
a headache. Javier kicked off his boots and fell back onto the bed with his
arms outstretched; he couldn’t remember the last time he had felt so completely
exhausted or so completely at peace. He’d move in just a minute; he’d move and
get undressed then slip into bed.

He woke to the smell of fresh strong coffee and
Gabriel shaking his arm roughly. Sitting up stiffly he squinted at his watch
then rubbed his eyes and checked it again. He had been asleep for twelve hours
and he was still fully dressed.

“I have been trying to wake you for almost five
minutes.” Gabriel said impatiently; “I was just about to pour water over your
head. Chronus is here but he has gone for a walk with Flavia so you have time
to get changed.”