Stone Passions Trilogy (38 page)

The thought made her lips curve slightly and she winced when the split opened once again. Squeezing her eyes shut, she bit back a cry and she knew that it was time to see him. Rolling over onto her right side, she pushed herself up, grunting at the effort it took. She should have looked at her hospital chart to see if they had prescribed any pain killers. Oh, well, she could take a couple of aspirins when she got home.

Where was home?

Okay, it was time. Slowly, she turned around and saw that he was facing away from her, that he was staring east towards the sunrise. Could he see? Could he feel?

She took a step towards him and staggered, her body refusing to cooperate. Everything hurt now: her face, her arm, her ribs. Her heart. If she could just touch him she’d be able to breathe again. She took another halting step and another until she found a rhythm to move closer to Vaughn. Another step and she’d be able to reach out and….

Powerful hands clamped down on her shoulders halting her progress and drawing her attention to another excruciatingly sore spot. Biting back a scream that hovered on her lips, she stiffened as Armand growled, “Where do you think you’re going?”

A squeak emanated from the back of her throat but other than that she wasn’t able to make a sound. How could he expect her to talk when tears were clogging her throat? He made a sound of disgust and then shoved her forward, causing her to stagger forward into Vaughn’s back. She wanted to cry out as she pressed against Vaughn's cold, stone flesh.

Heedless of the two naked men behind her, she ran her right hand over Vaughn’s carved back, the bulky muscles so different from the sleek muscles of when he was human, so perfect and so frozen. It broke her heart all over to see him so motionless, so cold, and she wanted to wrap her arms around him, to take him into her body and warm him up.

She wanted him to wake up.

“Don’t you think you’ve done enough damage?” Armand growled, fury emanating from him. She could feel him pacing behind her, back and forth in shorter and shorter strides as he fought against slamming his fist against something. Possibly her. Probably her.

“I tried getting here on time,” she said softly, unable to tear her gaze from Vaughn’s broad, stone back. Moistening her lips, feeling the cut with her tongue, she rasped, “Please tell me it isn’t too late. Tell me there’s something I can do to get him back.”

Turning her head, she looked at him with glossy eyes, “Please, Armand, tell me there’s a way I can get him back.”

Armand sucked in a harsh breath as he saw her face. He probably wouldn't recognize her if he saw her in the street because she knew how she looked. Abnormal color was splashed across her cheek bones, her chin, her forehead; black stitches curved along her eyebrow; her lip was swollen and bleeding and her nose had been broken, giving her two black eyes. Taking a step forward, he ran a finger lightly along her less bruised cheek. “What happened?”

Ignoring him, she turned back to Vaughn and pressed her forehead against his back as a tear slid down her cheek. Her strength was nearly gone and it was getting more and more difficult to remain standing. Unthinkingly, she climbed onto the ledge and into his lap, barely aware of Armand reaching for her as if she were going to jump.

Wrapping her good arm around Vaughn’s thick waist, she rested her head against his chest, at the curve of his neck. Closing her eyes, she knew that she would stay there until she became stone as well, until she was a part of him and he was no longer frozen in stone.

The statue shifted and she flinched, the briefest flare of hope dying just as suddenly when she realized his brothers were turning Vaughn around, until he was facing the roof instead of the world. Armand slid his arms beneath her but she tightened her hold on Vaughn, refusing to be moved and glaring at the black-haired man who meant to take her away from Vaughn.

“You’re trembling,” he murmured, stepping back and putting his hands in the air to show her he wasn’t going to do anything she didn’t want. She scarcely noticed that a robe now covered his nudity. Rhys was standing next to him and he was also covered, concern etched across his brow.

“I h…hate h…heights,” she stammered, not realizing how paralyzed with fear she was until she was no longer dangling over the edge of the building. Closing her eyes, she snuggled further into Vaughn’s stone body. If she pretended hard enough, she could almost imagine she could feel warmth coming from him.

“Shouldn’t you be in a hospital?” Rhys asked softly.

“Why?” she asked, trying to find a comfortable position where stone wasn’t pressing against a cracked rib, or a broken arm, or a bruised shoulder. “I just got out of one.”

"You look as if a light breeze could knock you over," Armand crooned, concern melting the hard, crusty shell and exposing his soft, squishy center. She was too lost in her own misery to fully appreciate it. “What the hell happened?”

“Car accident,” she mumbled, her brows furrowing as she fidgeted. Her lips pressed together and the color faded from her face as she kept knocking against a sore spot on her body. God, her entire body was sore….

“Jesus, Melanie,” Armand growled, ignoring her protests as he carefully slid his arms beneath her body. “You need to get inside.”

“I can’t leave him,” she objected, unable to struggle out of his strong arms. “If I hadn’t removed the necklace, I would have been here on time and he wouldn’t be stone now. He wouldn’t have to wait for me to die to wake up.”

“You actually planned on completing the ritual,” Armand whispered in awe, staring down at her and seeing her as if for the first time.

“Yes, of course,” she scowled. “Of course I was. Please let me stay with him.”

“You need some rest,” Armand contradicted. “Sleep and when I feel you are strong enough to stand on your own you can come back up.”

He was so demanding but she was too tired to argue. “You’ll let me see him?”

“Yes,” Armand murmured, taking her into their living quarters, into Vaughn’s room. He gently laid her on the bed. “I’m sorry, Melanie. I didn’t think you loved him enough.”

“I shouldn’t have panicked,” she mumbled, breathing in Vaughn’s familiar scent as Armand placed her in the comfortable bed.

“You’re only human.” Amusement laced Armand’s voice but Melanie had a hard time finding the humor. At the moment all she wanted to do was close her eyes and lose herself in the oblivion of sleep. She started to roll onto her side when she felt the pull of fresh stitches along her belly so she tried moving the other way but the bed pressed against her ribs.

“Let me see the damage,” Armand murmured, carefully removing her clothes. She was too overwhelmed with grief to care that she lay naked before him. Turning her head to the side, she closed her eyes as Armand clinically and methodically examined her cuts and bruises, his hands lightly moving over the tender wounds.

“Can you heal her?” Rhys softly asked from the door way.

“Of course, but it will take a little time,” Armand answered, warmth spreading outwards from where he touched her with the tips of his fingers.

“Why?” Melanie asked the question but her voice had no sound and the scent of Vaughn filled her head. Warmth pulsed through her wounds and the world disappeared.

Chapter Nineteen

“Why are you so much more powerful that your brothers?” Melanie asked Armand several days later as he continued to gradually heal her body. In a lightweight camisole and a pair of silky panties, she was strangely comfortable wearing so little in Armand’s presence. His touch was tender and full of affection, but it was the affection of a healer for a patient. Or a brother towards a sister.

When she asked about his healing, he had explained that her body would go into shock if he healed her too quickly because it wouldn’t understand the difference between healing and infection. It would retaliate, hurting her even more in the process, and then things would get really messed up. Mostly healed and not quite so numb, she finally felt almost human. She just had to learn to live without her heart.

“I gave up my nights for a woman once,” he murmured distantly, but she had already figured that much out. With a negligent shrug, he added, “I lost the girl and I gained some power.”

That was such an understatement.

She looked down at Armand’s large hands on her left arm: the cast was gone and there was no pain. Running her hands over her ribs, she discovered that they were no longer wrapped in bandages either. She took a deep breath and felt her lungs expand to full capacity. Moving her free hand over her face, she no longer had any stitches and there was no more pain. Armand had told her that she would always have the faint scars but they would continue to fade. She was endlessly amazed by how quickly she was healing, even if it wasn’t instantaneous.

Armand wasn’t just good, he was incredible. She had had no idea he was so powerful. She was lucky that it had been Vanessa that night in her apartment because she would have forgotten Vaughn….

Hell, maybe it would have been better if Armand
had
erased her memory. Then Vaughn would still be a living gargoyle and she wouldn’t know this crushing agony. But then she wouldn’t have known Vaughn and that would have been tragic.

“Do you hate her?” she asked softly, glancing up at Armand from beneath her lashes. He truly was a stunning man with his black hair and piercing green eyes and sculpted-to-perfection face. He cocked the head to the side in question and she licked her bottom lip, “Do you hate the woman for not choosing you?”

He was silent for a long time, staring intently at his healing hands on her left arm. The silence grew deafening and Melanie was debating whether or not to ask again when he rasped, “It was easier to blame her for not choosing me and I think I must have hated her for not loving me enough.” He laughed without humor, “I even told her about the repercussions before we ever began and she was eager to be my eternal mate. But in the end she changed her mind.”

A tear ran down her cheek and her lips trembled, “Did you ever forgive her?”

His eyes searched hers, perhaps trying to find the answer. Brushing the tear from her cheek with the pad of his thumb, he nodded his head once, “Yes, I believe I have.”

“Do you think Vaughn hates me?” her voice was barely more than a whisper but she knew he heard her; his head jerked back as if she had slapped him.

“No, sweetheart,” Armand said vehemently, cupping her face in his palm and forcing her eyes to meet his. “No. He loved you until the end. He loves you still.”

“Will he forgive me?”

Closing his eyes, he gathered her up in his arms and held her close. She wrapped her arms around his neck as tears fell unheeded against the navy silk of his shirt. Stroking her back, trying to comfort the devastated girl, he whispered roughly, “Even though you were too late I love you for choosing Vaughn and I wish I could take all of your pain away.”

“Is there anything we can do?” she managed to get out between gut-wrenching sobs as her grip tightened and her body was intimately pressed against his. She was nearly crawling into his skin and she was unaware of how little she wore.

Armand’s arms tightened and he could feel how much weight she had lost in the last couple of days. In addition to having spent a week in a coma, she hadn’t been eating since waking up. She pecked at the food he and Rhys brought to her but in her grief she had no appetite. Pressing his nose against the curve of her neck, he inhaled deeply and slowly let it out. “There may be a way.”

Abruptly, she pulled away and looked at him, her blue eyes swimming in tears. A small smile trembled on her lips and she was practically in his skin, “Really?”

Clearing his throat, he swallowed, “I take his place.”

Her brows drew together and she frowned at him, “I don’t understand.”

“You perform the ritual with me,” he said roughly, holding his body and emotions tightly together. “If I give up my nights for you than he should be free.”

She stared at him as if he was mad and perhaps he was. He swore never to give up his nights again and he was offering to do so for this girl, knowing that the ritual would never be completed. She would still grow old and die but at least his brother would have a few years with her….