Fangs For The Memories

CHAPTER 23

Jane didn't quite recall how she got to her bedroom. Or how her unsteady legs managed to hold her, but once she was inside, with the door shut, she collapsed on the bed.

She stared blankly at her hands folded in her lap, knotted together to keep them from shaking.

She sat that way, for how long she didn't know, feeling nothing. Or maybe conscious of everything at once, each emotion blotting out the other until she just felt empty.

But gradually, one emotion rose to the forefront. Pain. A horrible, heart-wrenching ache that seemed to cripple her.

She took in a deep breath to suppress the hurt, but when she exhaled, a broken sob escaped her. The pitiful sound shattered her fragile hold.

She lifted her trembling hands to her face and cried. She cried over Rhys's cold, emotionless words. She cried because she knew he was giving up something that was real and true. And she cried for herself, because she was right back where she always seemed to end up. Alone.

No. She swiped at her tears angrily. Angry with herself for feeling so hopeless. She couldn't make Rhys change his mind, but she wouldn't give up. She wouldn't let this ruin her.

"You can find love again," she vowed out loud, to the room, to herself. But even before the words faded, she knew she'd never find anything like what she had with Rhys. She knew she wouldn't ever feel the same way about another man.

You're being over dramatic, her mind told her. But her heart assured her she wasn't. She'd shared a connection with Rhys that came only once in a lifetime.

Maybe this was what her father and mother had shared. Maybe theirs was a love so deep, her father couldn't recover from it being severed. Jane had always believed that her father could have let go if he'd wanted to. If Jane was important enough to him. But maybe he just couldn't.

She rose, her pain suddenly laced with agitation. She couldn't deal with that. She couldn't live the rest of her life still longing for something that was out of reach. She'd done that with her father. She'd done that with the normalcy of being a kid. She couldn't keep wanting.

She had to get out. To be surrounded by people, by noise. She needed to know there was still plenty of life out there for her.

She looked for her coat, pausing to decide if she should put on warmer clothes, but she didn't want to take the time. She needed to leave now.

Where was her darn coat? She checked several places but couldn't find it, her search becoming more desperate with each unsuccessful location.

Finally, she stopped rummaging through the room, remembering that the parka was in Rhys's room, in the chair where he'd thrown it, when she'd agreed to make love with him again.

She hesitated. She didn't want to run into Rhys. At least not until she'd had time to think and compose herself. But she wasn't going to be able to do that here. Surrounded by everything Rhys.

She straightened her spine and headed for his room. The door was still open. And Rhys wasn't in there. She didn't pause to wonder how she could tell that; it was just instinctive, something she knew.

She darted in and found the coat. She paused long enough to tug the thick parka on. As she pulled up the zipper, her knuckles brushed against the hard, cool topaz at her chest.

The pendant suddenly felt heavy around her neck, and she fumbled to get the small clasp undone. Once the necklace was off, she held it in front of her, the pendant twirling back and forth. The jewel winked at her in the lamplight as if to say that everything the necklace had come to mean to her was a colossal joke.

She placed the necklace on Rhys's nightstand and then left. She didn't slow down until she reached the freight elevator. She struggled with the large metal gate, but finally got it down. She pressed ground level.

The gate was even more difficult to get open, and just when she was starting to get a little worried, that she might be stuck on the stupid elevator, Mick appeared.

He easily lifted the grid for her.

"Thank you," she murmured, feeling silly and annoyed. She needed to be stronger. Physically and mentally.

Mick nodded. His usual silent self.

This time, she was too consumed with her own problems to find his stillness unnerving. She headed right to the metal back door and began turning the various locks. Finally she shoved the door open and breathed in the cold winter air.

"Be careful out there," Mick said, and for the first time, she realized he was right behind her.

She glanced over her shoulder at the huge man. "I will."

He nodded and reached over her head to hold the door open for her.

She slipped out into the alley, glancing back at Mick.

He nodded again, and she gave him a tentative smile back. Funny she should feel a strange affinity to the man now. Now that she'd be leaving.

She turned back toward the street, her heels clicking on the concrete as she hurried into the bustling city.

Rhys knew he shouldn't, but he couldn't seem to stop himself. He had to check on Jane, make sure she was okay.

He paused outside her closed bedroom door, but she wasn't there. He concentrated; he couldn't feel her anywhere in the apartment. Her scent still drifted in the air, but it had faded to only a faint hint like the smell of roses drifting away on a breeze. Soon it would be gone altogether.

Was she gone? Already?

He placed his hand on the doorknob, holding it for a second before making up his mind. Finally he opened the door and peered inside.

Relief overcame him. Her suitcase still sat beside the bureau. She hadn't left for good. He knew he shouldn't be happy. That the goal was to get her out of here as soon as he could. To put distance between her and Christian. And himself. But he wasn't ready for her to be gone quite yet.

But she was gone. At least for a while.

His first instinct was to follow her. To see where she was going. To make sure she was safe. But he headed in the direction of his bedroom instead. He was going to have to let her go soon enough, and he wouldn't be able to follow her then.

But what if Christian is out there watching her?

Rhys spun on his heels, striding toward the elevator.

Once he was downstairs, he went directly to Mick, where he sat in his office watching several monitors, the images from different security cameras around the club.

"Did Jane leave this way?"

Mick nodded.

"Do you know which way she went?"

Mick nodded again.

"Follow her."

Mick rose, reaching for his jacket on the back of his chair.

"Just make sure she is safe."

"What am I looking for?"

Mick had worked for Rhys and Sebastian long enough to know that Rhys wouldn't send him after her unless there was a very real threat.

"Christian."

Mick's eyes widened just slightly, the only sign that he was startled by Rhys's announcement. But he didn't waste time heading for the door.

Rhys watched the giant disappear outside. Mick seemed to understand much quicker than Rhys what kind of threat Christian could pose.

"Excuse me, do you have the time?"

Jane turned from the bookstore window, where she was half-heartedly browsing the new titles in the window.

She blinked, looking into pale, pale blue eyes. Eyes she'd seen before. She instantly recognized him as the man from the coffee bar.

She hesitated, uneasiness stealing her voice.

The man smiled. A warm smile. A friendly smile. And she immediately wondered at her nervousness. Just wary given her bad experiences on the streets of New York.

She laughed self-consciously as she realized she was staring. But it was hard not to look at those eyes.

"I don't have a watch."

"Sorry to bother you then." He didn't leave, but rather moved beside her to look at the books.

She pretended to browse them again, uncertain why she didn't just walk away.

"Have you read Interview With a Vampire?"

She glanced at him. "No. Is it good?"

"Very."

She nodded, unsure what to say.

He frowned at her then. The lines across his brow somehow adding to the beauty of his face rather than detracting from it. "Do I know you?"

She quickly shook her head, then laughed again. "Well, you bumped into me once. Literally."

Recognition dawned in his pale eyes. "Oh, yes. I think I used a rather bad pick-up line on you?"

"Did you?"

He shrugged. "If you don't remember it that way, then neither do I."

She couldn't help but smile at his glib charm. She glanced back at the books, not really seeing them.

"I know this is rather forward. And it's really going to sound like a pick-up line now, but would you be interested in joining me for something to eat? There is a great café across the street." He gestured to a restaurant on the other side of the busy road.

Jane started to say no, but something about the man made her waver. Maybe it was the shape of his lips or the tilt of his eyes; something in his appearance looked so familiar. Outside of meeting him in the coffee shop.

What the heck, she decided. It felt nice to have the attention of this very attractive man, especially after the awful evening she'd had thus far. A little conversation would be a good distraction. Good for her ego.

She cast another look over to the restaurant he'd suggested. The building's façade was very quaint, decorated like a Parisian café. And it buzzed with patrons.

Not a dark alley. Or a seedy bar. She certainly would be safe enough there.

"Actually, I am a little hungry."

He grinned, obviously very pleased. "Great." He held out his hand, a nicely shaped hand with a broad palm and long, blunt-tipped fingers. "I'm Chris."

She smiled, touching her fingers to his. "Jane."

He gave her hand a polite shake and then immediately released it.

Certainly nothing inappropriate about that.

She followed him as he wove the way through the crowded sidewalk to the corner, and then they crossed to the restaurant.

But once they were seated in a softly lit corner, Jane began to question her decision. The restaurant radiated romance, from the soft French music to the flickering candles on the cloth-covered tables.

She shifted slightly, fiddling with the clasp of her purse.

Chris's hand came out to cover hers. "You don't have to be nervous. I just want some company."

She stared into his eyes, then nodded. "Sorry, it's just this seems like the type of place you'd take a romantic date, not an acquaintance."

He glanced around. "Yes. But I get the feeling you could use a little romance tonight."

She laughed at that. The sound was grim, even to her own ears. "That obvious, huh?"

He moved his hand from hers and gave her a sympathetic smile. "Sad eyes. I'm a sucker for them. I think that must be what I noticed about you back in the coffee bar."

She frowned. "Really? Sad eyes?"

He nodded. "So why are they sad?"

She didn't speak for a moment, not sure she wanted to talk about Rhys to a total stranger. How could she tell anyone about Rhys? The whole story was just too strange.

She picked up her napkin, placing the linen on her lap, smoothing it over her black skirt.

"I've recently just-broken up with this guy."

"Really?"

"Yes. He had been-ill. And once he got-better, he decided we shouldn't be together. He decided that I wasn't the right woman for him."

Christian listened impatiently to her halting story. The only thing that really interested him was that Rhys had been "ill."

"What sort of illness did he have?"

She toyed with her purse again, and he fought back the urge to still her hand, tightly, violently.

Instead he tilted his head with feigned concern.

"He had some type of amnesia."

Christian paused, then fought back a smile. Leave it to his maudlin brother to be overcome with memory loss. Poor Rhys, unable to accept himself. To accept his vampirism.

The whole thing was so trite.

Of course, if he'd known this earlier, he could have put Rhys out of his misery, and dear, dear brother would have never even known what hit him.

No, where was the fun in that? He studied Jane. This was much better… and it was going to be a lot more effective.

"But you still have feelings for him? After he has acted so callous?"

She nodded. "Yes."

Much to Christian's annoyance, the waiter appeared, rambling off a long list of specials in an appalling attempt at French. When he was finally done, Christian ordered two glasses of merlot.

"I'm sorry," he said after the waiter left. "That was presumptuous of me to order for you."

"No, that's fine. I don't drink much, so I wouldn't even begin to know which wine to order. Thank you."

He smiled, although he really wanted to roll his eyes. Leave it to Rhys to fall for little Miss Polly Sunshine.

"Do you think this man still cares for you?"

She thought it over and finally admitted, "I do. But I don't think I will get him to acknowledge that fact."

But he still cared. That was all that mattered to Christian. Losing her would hurt Rhys-ruin him. Rhys would, of course, be distressed if Christian hurt any mortal to get to him. But Christian didn't want distress-he wanted devastation. He wanted Rhys to suffer with this for eternity.

Christian gritted his teeth. Just like he ached over Lilah.

The wine arrived, and Christian took a sip. Ugh. A mediocre vintage to say the least. He set the glass aside.

"The thing about Rhys-that's his name-is that he's very noble, and I think he's breaking things off with me in some misguided attempt to protect me. Although I'm not sure from what."

She sighed and took another sip of wine. "Or maybe not. Maybe I just don't want to believe all the hurtful things he said."

Christian pretended to listen, but his mind stuck on one thing she'd said. Rhys is noble.

That one statement made him want to bare his teeth. Make him growl like a wild animal. Rhys, noble. What a crock of shit.

"Sometimes people can be very deceiving," he said quietly. "I know that firsthand."

Suddenly he decided that it was important that this vapid little innocent really know the man she thought so noble. The man she was going to lose her life for.

"I was deeply in love once, too," he told her. "Lilah was my whole existence. All I wanted in the world. And like anyone madly in love, I wanted her to meet my family."

Jane nodded, her eyes intent on him.

"And like any younger brother, I greatly admired my older brother, and especially wanted his approval."

"Of course," she murmured.

"So I asked him to attend a party that Lilah was hosting. Lilah was an accomplished hostess. She loved to throw lavish parties. Elegant parties. And my brother agreed to come.

"That night, my brother not only met my beloved, but decided that Lilah was so magnificent, he had to have her for himself."

"Oh, Chris." She reached out to touch him, but he pulled back before her hand could come in contact with his. He didn't want her sympathy. That wasn't why he was telling her this. He wanted her to know the true nature of the man she loved.

"He forced himself on her. Afterward, she did come back to me, but she was never the same. How could she be after what he'd done to her?"

Jane's green eyes shimmered with tears. "Chris, that is awful. I'm so sorry."

He regarded her, his expression grateful for her compassion, his insides stone-cold.

He forced a smile. "So you see, we both know what it is like to lose someone we loved."

Jane picked at the soup she'd ordered.

She couldn't possibly eat after Chris's story, even though he tried to keep the mood lighter and put her at ease.

How could one brother do something that horrendous to another brother? And that poor woman.

"I guess my story has ruined the atmosphere, hasn't it?" he said regretfully, gesturing to her nearly untouched meal.

"I wasn't all that hungry," she assured him.

"Well, let me get the check. And then I can walk you home."

She started to turn down his offer. She didn't have a home at the moment. But then she decided she did have to go back to Rhys's apartment. It was getting late, and she didn't have her stuff. Plus, she wanted to talk to Sebastian and thank him for all his help. And also tell him she couldn't take the nightclub job after all.

One more night with Rhys wouldn't kill her. And tomorrow she would scour the city for a place to live.

"Yes, I'd love you to walk me home. If you don't mind?"

"I don't mind at all."