Fangs For The Memories

CHAPTER 21

What had he done?

Rhys stared down at Jane. She slept; he knew she slept. But it wasn't an ordinary sleep. Not the drowsy half-awake/half-dozing state created by demanding sex.

Her skin blended with the whiteness of his sheets, and her hair clung to her face in a cold sweat. She looked frail, ill.

And he'd done that to her.

His gaze dropped to the twin marks on the side of her neck. The wounds still seeped a tiny bit of blood. The redness stood out violently against her white skin.

He shoved off the bed, backing away from her. Away from what he'd done. But the puncture wounds mocked him. The crimson blood hurt his eyes.

This is what you are. This is what you do. What made you believe you could ever change that?

He stared at her a moment longer. Then he quickly covered her chilled body with a blanket. He started to move away from the bed again, but hesitated. His eyes moved back to his marks on her. He leaned forward to lick the wound, which would instantly heal it. But he stopped.

Maybe he should let her see what he was. What he could do to her. Not that she would understand.

He moved away from her, pacing back and forth at the foot of the bed. How could she understand? He didn't.

He paused to look at her once more. Her sweet face. Her generous lips. The crescent of her dark lashes against her cheeks as she slept.

He had to get out of here.

He had to think.

He pulled on his clothes and left the room.

By the time he reached the living room, he was trembling. Rage and self-hatred coursed through him, merging with the warmth of Jane's blood in his veins. Even in his anger, he could still feel her, taste her. Her sweetness served only to make him more furious.

He was a monster.

His glass and the decanter of scotch still sat on the library's coffee table where he'd left them. He poured himself a full glass and downed it. The burning of the liquor on his tongue and throat didn't even remove the flavor of Jane.

He fell into one of the overstuffed chairs and stared blankly into the unlit fireplace.

How could he have been so foolish? So stupid and naïve to think that he could just go back? That he could just return to the man he once was? Hadn't two hundred years taught him there was no going back?

He refilled his glass, this time taking only one large gulp before setting it onto the table.

The man in the alley. Christian. Lilah's death. It was all there now. And while the shock of it all, the horror, made him understand why he'd wanted to forget, how had he? And how had he allowed Jane to become involved in all this?

He dropped his head onto the back of the chair and closed his eyes. Jane. He'd left her at her rundown hotel. He had let her go. Even though, from the moment she walked into that bar, he'd wanted her. But he had let her go.

So how had she come back to him? That much he truly didn't remember. And why had she stayed after she woke up with him that first night?

And who had found him after Christian's attack?

He lifted his head, his eyes coming open.

Of course. Sebastian.

Rhys didn't have any trouble finding his little brother. Now that his memory was fully intact, Rhys knew exactly what club Sebastian was going to, and it definitely wasn't White's.

He found Sebastian on the dance floor of Carfax Abbey, surrounded by vampires and vampire-wannabes. Rhys simply stood behind him, until Sebastian sensed him there.

"Rhys." Sebastian peered at him through the haze of red neon and flashing lights. "What are you doing here? Are you- are you-"

"Yeah," Rhys said flatly. "I'm back. We need to talk."

Sebastian nodded, then turned to shout over the pounding techno to the mortals and immortals to tell them that he had to go. Several of the ladies actually groaned with disappointment.

But Sebastian didn't linger to console them. He followed Rhys through the doorway that led to the back hallway and the freight elevator.

Once they were inside, creaking up toward the apartment level, Rhys glanced at Sebastian. "So was there any reason that you decided not to tell me that I was acting like the world's biggest jackass?"

"I wouldn't say jackass. Although all the 'Ready the carriage' stuff got a bit annoying."

Rhys turned, glaring at his brother. "Why didn't you stop me? Make me listen to the truth?"

"You wouldn't have heard it. You wanted to forget. And I wanted that for you."

Rhys reached for the grate as the elevator shuddered to a stop. He threw it up with more force than was necessary, the metallic sound thundering through the hallway.

"Why?" Rhys asked as he stepped into the hallway, striding angrily toward the apartment. "Why, when the truth was going to come back eventually?"

"Because you wanted Jane."

Rhys came to a halt, turning back to Sebastian. "What?"

"You wanted Jane. That's why you repressed what you were. You wouldn't have her otherwise."

Sebastian had never struck Rhys as particularly insightful; he was generally too self-indulgent for that. Yet he had somehow deduced Rhys's deepest yearning.

Still, the realization that his baby brother might be something more than a vain hedonist twit didn't make Rhys any happier.

"So did you convince her to stay?"

Sebastian nodded, a smug grin on his face. "Yep. Told her that the doctor told me you needed to be supervised at all times, and I was too busy at the nightclub to do it myself."

"And she offered to stay?"

"No, not really. I had to bribe her, and remind her that you saved her life." Sebastian grinned again, proud. "I bribed her with a lot of money."

Money? Rhys never would have taken Jane as a woman who would take a bribe.

"Of course, after you two knocked boots, she told me she couldn't accept the money. She said it made the situation feel cheap." Sebastian shook his head, clearly amazed by that level of integrity. "You two really are made for each other."

Rhys ignored the last statement.

"Then why did she stay after that?"

"You." Sebastian gave him a «duh» expression. "Well, and I did offer her a legitimate job at the nightclub. As our accountant. But she only took that because she is a little desperate for a job, which I was counting on."

Rhys stared at his brother. Jane was going to work at the nightclub? No.

"Pretty ingenious, huh?"

Rhys grabbed the lapels of Sebastian's designer suit coat and shoved him against the wall, pinning him there.

"I'll take that as a no," Sebastian rasped, his breath knocked out of him.

"Do you have any idea what you've done? What I've done?"

Sebastian shrugged off Rhys's hold. Rhys let him. "Yes. I gave you the chance to be with the woman you love. Because you couldn't do it yourself. And this is the Thanks I get?" He pointed to the wrinkles in his coat, raising an eyebrow at Rhys. Then he straightened the mussed garment.

Rhys stared at him for a moment, then stated, "I don't love her."

"Do I smell smoke?"

The question was so random, it took a few seconds for Rhys to understand that Sebastian was referring to a children's rhyme about lying.

"How old are you?"

"Two hundred and eight, and still young."

"I give up," Rhys muttered and headed into the apartment. He walked directly to the library and to the decanter of scotch. He knew he wouldn't find any answers there; he already knew what he had to do. But it might make him calmer until the time came to talk to Jane. Right now she needed to sleep. To recover from what he'd done.

Unfortunately, Sebastian followed him.

"Listen, I did what I thought was right," he told Rhys. "What I know was right."

Rhys topped off his glass, then went to the window, his back to his brother. He leaned a shoulder on the window frame, took a sip of his drink and looked out at the city skyline. Somehow it had seemed prettier when he'd thought it was London.

Or maybe it had just been prettier through Jane's eyes.

He closed his own.

"You know, I liked you better when you were repressing," Sebastian said flatly.

Me, too, Rhys immediately thought, but he opened his eyes, still not turning back to Sebastian. "That person doesn't exist."

Sebastian was quiet for a moment. Rhys heard him shift in his chair.

"He does exist, otherwise he never could have reappeared. Maybe it is your love for Jane. Maybe you were just tired of brooding. God knows I'm tired of your brooding. But the Rhys that you've been for the past few days was the old Rhys."

Rhys turned to look at him.

Sebastian stared back for a moment; then he modified, "Except you were happier these past days than you ever were-even alive."

Jane.

They both knew it was Jane who'd managed that feat.

"You found me in the alley?"

Sebastian nodded. "You'd been attacked. By a vampire, from the looks of the wounds."

Yes. Definitely by a vampire. "And Jane was there?"

"Yes. She was unconscious, and she had a memory hex cast on her. Which verified you must have been attacked by a vampire."

"It was a vampire," Rhys told him, his voice devoid of any emotion. How did one feel about his own brother trying to kill him. He still didn't know.

Sebastian sat forward in his chair. "You remember the attack?"

"Yes."

"Was it a random attack? A rogue vampire?"

Rhys laughed, the sound humorless, brittle. "No. Definitely not random."

"Who, then?"

Rhys left the window, not sure where he was walking, just feeling the need to move. He paced back and forth in front of the fireplace.

He wished there was a fire burning. He felt very cold, very empty.

"Who, Rhys?"

Rhys stopped, staring into his glass. Finally he garnered the strength to say it. To hear the truth out loud. "Christian."

Silence filled the room for a full second, before Sebastian stood. "Christian? Are you sure?"

"Yeah." Rhys laughed again, still no amusement in the sound. "I'm pretty sure."

"Why? How? Christian isn't any more powerful than you."

"You'd be surprised what blind rage can do."

"But why? Why now?"

Rhys didn't mind saying this out loud. He'd waited a very long time to be able to say this very thing. "Lilah is dead. Walked out into the sunlight."

Sebastian's hazel eyes widened. Then his lips split into a huge and still amazed grin. "Really? The bitch is finally gone?"

Rhys nodded, joining him for a split second in the joy. But his slight smile faded. "Christian came to tell me. Then to kill me."

"Well, ding dong." Sebastian was clearly stunned. "I wouldn't have ever guessed Christian. I'd been asking around at the club if there was any word in the community about a rogue vampire and other attacks. This explains why no one had heard anything."

Rhys stared at his brother for a moment. Even though Sebastian often had odd ways of showing his concern, he did care. Despite Rhys's annoyance with his heavy-handed meddling and silly comments, he did appreciate that Sebastian had always been there. Was essentially the brother he'd known in life.

"So what are we going to do?"

Rhys frowned. "We aren't going to do anything. If Christian comes to me, I'll deal with it. And I need to get Jane to leave."

"What? Why?"

"It's been Christian that has been coming to Jane. And she has to go for her own safety."

"Wouldn't she be safer with us? With us to protect her?"

But who was going to protect Jane from him? Rhys wondered. "No. She will be safer if she just cuts ties with us altogether."

Sebastian shook his head. "She loves you, Rhys. Are you prepared to break her heart?"

Rhys's chest tightened. "A broken heart will heal."

"Rhys-"

"This is what has to be done. Jane isn't safe. She needs to leave."

Sebastian nodded, although Rhys knew he didn't agree. Then he stood, heading to the door. He paused with his hand on the doorknob and looked back at Rhys.

"You are sending away the best thing that has ever happened to you."

Rhys didn't respond, and finally Sebastian just shook his head again, clearly disgusted with him. The door slammed, accenting his irritation.

Rhys stared at the closed door, then crossed back to the window. The sky was starting to turn the vibrant indigo color that it often did as sunrise slowly arrived. A couple more hours and he'd have to scurry for his bed. To hide. Hide from daylight and life.

Jane couldn't live like that. She'd been surrounded by death long enough. She needed to live, to love.

His chest tightened again at the thought of some other man holding her, making love to her.

He took a sip of his drink, then rested his forehead on the icy windowpane. But he had to let her go. For good this time.

Christian was a real threat. Rhys didn't even want to contemplate what Christian could do to Jane.

Rhys didn't want to contemplate what he could do to Jane. What he'd already done.

Jane had to leave, even if Sebastian was right. Because Sebastian was right.

Rhys would let her go because he loved her.