Fangs For The Memories

CHAPTER 25

Rhys's first reaction was to ignore her request. What could he tell her?

Oh, yes, Lilah. She was the evil bitch who crossed me and my brothers over to vampirism. She's dead now, though.

"Was Lilah Christian's girlfriend?"

Rhys almost smiled at that title. Christian's girlfriend. It sounded so sweet. So innocent. So normal. Christian's relationship with Lilah had been none of those things.

"Lilah was the woman, and I use that term loosely, that destroyed Christian's life. Quite literally," he muttered.

Jane stared at the glass in her hands, rolling it slowly between her palms.

"He said you… took advantage of her."

Rhys snorted. "Yes, he would say that."

"Did you? Is that what this feud with Christian is about?" She still didn't look at him.

He closed his eyes briefly. Why did it hurt that she might believe Christian's words? What did it matter? If it convinced her to run, then let her believe the worst.

He couldn't.

"Our feud is definitely about Lilah," he told her. "But the events didn't happen the way he recalls them."

She glanced up at him, her hands pausing on her glass. "Then how did they happen?"

He didn't say anything for a few moments. How could he tell the story when all the facts were exactly what made it unbelievable? Why was he even considering trying to tell her? He should just tell her he had done all the horrible things Christian said. And more. And convince her to run.

But his mouth didn't listen to the reasoning of his mind.

"We were living in England when Christian met Lilah."

Jane stared at Rhys, waiting for him to continue.

"Christian decided to move to London. We had a row house there. I preferred our country home, but he hated rural life. He hated the quiet and the slow pace. He craved excitement. I didn't want him to go; being the oldest, I felt responsible for him."

Jane knew that about Rhys-that he'd feel as though he had to watch out for his rebellious brother.

"He hadn't been in London very long when all communication stopped. Christian wasn't exactly the most dependable person, so at first, I didn't really worry about it. But after two months without a letter, I decided I'd better go see him."

Jane considered his words. A letter? Not a call or an e-mail? That seemed odd. The average person didn't generally correspond with letters these days, much less a wild young man. But she didn't say anything.

"The row house was lavish. Our parents had left us well provided for, and Christian fell into the life of the idle rich. When I got to the house, the place was in complete disarray, from parties and other decadence. Much of the staff was gone."

Again she wondered at his wording. It was as if he was telling her a story in the very same way that "Rhys the viscount" would have.

"Christian didn't even look like himself. He was pale, unkempt, his eyes wild. And I knew then he was mixed up with something."

"Drugs?" she asked.

Rhys laughed humorlessly. "You could say that. Lilah was definitely a drug to Christian."

"How so? What did she do?"

"She controlled him. He did whatever she said."

Jane frowned at the barely contained hatred in his voice. "Christian said you became obsessed with her, too."

He raised an eyebrow at that, another humorless chuckle escaping him. "When I met Lilah, I will admit, I was immediately drawn to her beauty. She was very beautiful." He admitted that as though he'd rather not. "But it didn't take me long to see beyond that illusion of beauty to what lurked under the surface."

Jane couldn't hide her confusion. "What lurked under the surface?"

His eyes suddenly found hers, and his gaze seemed a little disoriented, as though he'd been back with Lilah, seeing- what?

He rubbed a hand over his face. She noticed that his hands seemed unsteady.

"She wasn't a nice person," he said finally, but Jane knew that description stopped far short of whatever he was remembering.

Jane wanted to ask more, but didn't. She didn't think Rhys would tell her. Instead she told him what Christian had implied. "Christian made it sound like you… attacked her."

He shook his head, Christian's belief still injuring him. "No. I didn't attack her. But…" He turned away from her then. "We did have sex."

Rhys, no.

His admission staggered her. Disbelief, disappointment and jealousy jumbled inside her. Rhys wouldn't do that. He wouldn't ever hurt his brother. No.

"It was one incident," his voice was low, shaken. "And I was sick with myself at my weakness. I should have been able to deny her. To stop it."

Jane blinked at him. At his broad back and slumped shoulders. She couldn't see the man who'd cheated with his brother's lover. Or even the cold man who had pushed her away earlier today.

She just saw a man who had carried too much weight on his shoulders for too long. She saw Rhys, and she knew he ached over things in his past-enough to try to erase them from his memories.

And she also knew, without a doubt, that he wasn't telling the whole story. He wasn't weak. He never would have touched his brother's lover, much less sleep with her. What had really happened?

She rose off the sofa and crossed to him. She slipped her arms around his stomach and pressed her cheek to his back, wanting to take away his pain. Wanting to carry a little of his burden.

He stiffened under her embrace, but he didn't pull away.

"What did Lilah do to force you?"

He remained perfectly still. Her hands brushed over the clenched muscles of his belly. Her cheek nuzzled the tenseness of his spine.

"What really happened?" she whispered.

Rhys remained motionless, though his entire body felt weak. Weak with relief and humbled by her trust. Jane didn't believe Christian. She didn't believe he would intentionally hurt his brother that way. She didn't believe he would ever force himself on a woman. Even after the way he'd just taken her, rough and half-crazed, against the wall, she still didn't believe him capable of violence.

But he was capable of extreme violence. He could kill if necessary. He'd kill to protect her.

He turned then in her arms, staring down at her open, trusting face. He could kill for her, but he wouldn't let her die for him. She had to leave. Even without the threat of Christian, she wasn't safe. He wanted her too much.

"What happened doesn't matter. It's over now. Christian will forever believe what he believes, and I will go on without my brother. That's just how things are."

She shook her head, her goodness making her assume all things could be fixed. All rifts mended. All pains healed.

He knew they couldn't.

And he wasn't going to allow her to become another loss he couldn't overcome. Another "if only" that he couldn't go back and change.

"Can't you talk to him? Tell him the truth?"

He laughed, the sound bitter, but his fingers on her cheek were gentle. "I've tried. Over and over. But he doesn't want to hear the truth. He believed Lilah. He will keep believing her. That is why you have to leave here."

She frowned, not following his reasoning.

"Christian is dangerous. And I'm afraid he could try to hurt you to get back at me. You have to leave."

She stared up at him, then smiled as though she thought he was acting like nothing more than a worried mother hen.

"I'm not scared of Christian."

Her words sounded confident, but he could sense apprehension, a subtle tang in the air.

He touched her cheek again, savoring the silky softness of her skin. Committing it to memory. Jane leaving would cause him pain, but as long as he knew she was out there somewhere, alive and safe, then he could bear it.

"I'm going to give you some money," he told her.

She shook her head, but he continued, "And I'm going to have Mick take you somewhere safe. Where would you like to go? You can go anywhere. London? Paris? Somewhere tropical, warm." He softened his voice, coaxing her.

She shook her head again. "I don't want to go anywhere if it means leaving you."

Rhys pulled away from her, irritation rising in his chest. Didn't she understand he was trying to protect her?

"I told you earlier. I do not want to be with you." The words came out rough, angry.

She remained silent for a moment, then said softly, "So that's why you made love to me right in the middle of the nightclub? Why I felt the desperation in your desire?"

He stared into her eyes, his frustration rising. But she didn't flinch under his cold glare.

Instead, she stepped forward and reached for his hands. Her small thumbs brushed back and forth across his broad palms, the caresses sweet, soothing.

"Rhys, you are in love with me. I know it. So instead of trying to figure out where you can send me where I'll be safe, why don't we figure out how I can stay right here and be safe."

"Jane-"

"What will either of us gain if I leave? We both end up alone."

"Yes," he agreed, his voice wry. "But you end up alive."

"If he wanted to do anything to me, he could have done it tonight." Her voice was calm, reasonable, but he knew she was unnerved by the idea that anyone would want to hurt her.

"Just answer this," she finally said, "and I'll consider going."

He waited, unsure he wanted to hear her question, but willing to answer if it would protect her.

"If I do go, and I never see you again, what would be the one thing, years from now, you would wish you'd told me?"

He raised an eyebrow. He'd have been amused if he wasn't so worried, so frustrated. He had to give her credit; she was persistent.

But he didn't respond immediately. Not in an attempt to hurt her, or convince her that he didn't care about her. He just couldn't say the words.

When was the last time he'd said them? Elizabeth? Yes, it had to have been to Elizabeth. Two hundred years was a long, long time to insulate himself, to attempt to remain numb. But Jane made him feel. And just like blood and heat returning to a frostbitten appendage, it hurt like hell.

He took a deep breath, afraid. Afraid to say something he would have once said so readily. Or at least he hoped he'd said it readily. To Elizabeth. And his parents. Even Sebastian and Christian.

And he had to say the words now. Even if it was only this once.

"I would wish," he said slowly, "that I told you that I love you."

She smiled, not the triumphant grin he'd expected, but a small, tremulous smile. Her eyes glistened.

"Thank you."

He nodded, but couldn't seem to respond any further.

She sniffed, then started to release his hands.

He clasped them before she could break the contact, and he pulled her toward him. Wrapping his arms around her, he cradled her against his body.

Now that the thaw had started, a flood followed, and he couldn't seem to control the emotion that poured through him.

"I love you, Janie," he murmured against her ear. "I love you more than I've ever loved anyone."

She hugged him back, her arms tight around his neck.

"Then that solves it," she said against his ear, her voice hoarse with emotion.

Finally. Finally she'd do as he asked. Because he loved her.

"I'm staying right here."