Fangs For The Memories

CHAPTER 27

Blinding terror gripped Rhys. He struggled out of bed, the fear so strong his limbs were weak with it.

He shoved the fear aside and concentrated. Jane was in the library. She was in pain. She was scared.

He fumbled with his pants, then raced toward the room where he knew she was-and he knew, too, who else was with her.

Don't let this be happening, his mind begged.

As he raced down the hallway, he heard Sebastian's door open, and he heard Sebastian following behind him.

Please, please, let her he okay. Please.

At first, Christian didn't recognize it. He sucked in the initial warm gush of Jane's blood, and the flavor filled his mouth. Sweet and delicate. But the more he drank of her, the stronger it got.

Suddenly, he wasn't just tasting her blood. He was feeling her. Her emotions were his, her thoughts. His knees started to buckle under the power of it.

He caught himself, bracing a hand on the wall behind her, refusing to stop. This was the revenge he'd waited for. Longed for. He wouldn't stop.

But her emotions bombarded him. Pain, fear, but much, much stronger than either of those was something that was unfamiliar. The «thing» he tasted as soon as he bit her. A feeling he couldn't understand. But he responded to it. Helpless to do otherwise.

Suddenly the nebulous emotion shaped in his head. Took a form. Found a name. It echoed through his mind.

Love.

He could feel Jane's love throughout him like wave after wave of warmth, all around him, curling over his skin. The love she felt for Rhys. A fated love. A true love.

How could this be unfamiliar? He'd loved Lilah. Lilah had loved him. Why didn't he immediately recognize the taste of it on his tongue?

Because he'd never tasted this in Lilah's blood, his mind told him. Even as he denied it again, he knew it was true. He'd never tasted sweetness or caring. He'd never felt warmth that encircled him. Held him.

Just greedy hunger. Constant craving. Had he somehow mistaken that for love?

He stopped feeding and looked down at Jane. Now barely conscious, she hung limply in his arms. But even in her unaware state, he could still sense that her connection with Rhys was intact. Calling to him.

Christian had never felt that with Lilah. Lilah had never reached out. Never connected to him. And he'd never been able to reach her. Not like this.

He shook his head angrily and repositioned his fangs over Jane's neck. He could have had this with Lilah. It was Rhys who had ruined that. He was the one who'd destroyed everything.

But even as he returned his teeth to Jane's throat, he knew it wasn't true. Lilah hadn't ever, ever felt like this.

Christian lifted his head again, staring at the woman in his arms. His brother's love. His brother's mate. But now, she looked like a broken angel in his embrace.

A wretched sound escaped him. What had he done? What had he spent years believing?

He scooped Jane up into his arms and crossed to the sofa. He laid her among the cushions, unsure what to do. Confused without the rage that had driven him for years.

Then the door slammed open, and Rhys charged into the room. His eyes were wild as he searched for Jane, barely registering Christian at all.

He found her, running to her. Kneeling beside her. His hands shook as he touched her hair, her face, her neck.

He stared at his hand, now covered with Jane's blood. He saw the jagged wound oozing just below her right ear.

He rose then and spun toward Christian.

"What have you done?" His voice was low and filled with rage. "What have you done?"

He charged at Christian.

Christian accepted the blow, which knocked him hard against the bookshelves behind him. Several books fell to the ground around him.

Rhys hit him again. This time, Christian fell to the hardwood floor. His lip was bleeding, his nose broken. But he didn't feel the pain.

Rhys reached for him again, hauling him to his feet. Fury burned in his eyes, and Christian knew that Rhys intended to kill him. Just as he'd once intended to kill Rhys. Only this time, Christian knew the killing would be justified.

Rhys wanted his death for the right reasons.

Rhys pinned him against the bookshelves and stared at him.

"Lilah had sex with me. She charmed me. Hypnotized me. And when I realized what I'd done I was sick with guilt. Sick that I couldn't stop her," he growled, his fangs already elongated. "And those times I went to her, to bite her, I only sought retribution from her for ruining my family. For killing my baby sister."

Christian didn't speak. What could he say now? He had been so obsessed with Lilah, he'd blinded himself to the truth. He'd refused to believe. But now that he'd felt real love, pure love, he knew he'd never known that emotion before.

Rhys bared his teeth, moving in for the attack, when Sebastian's voice stopped him.

"Rhys, Jane is dying."

Rhys released Christian, turning toward Jane.

Sebastian stood over her, his eyes bleak, his face drawn. "She's barely breathing. I don't think she's going to make it."

"No!" Rhys roared, striding over to her.

"No," he repeated as he knelt beside her, stroking her hair.

Sebastian watched Rhys, feeling helpless, angry.

Christian remained against the wall, also watching Rhys. But Sebastian couldn't see any of the bitterness or the hatred that had been a part of Christian's features for so long.

He looked devastated. Sick.

Sebastian had no doubt that Christian was simply going to stand there and allow Rhys's attack. Sebastian didn't know what changed Christian, what brought back the brother who'd disappeared when Lilah had arrived. But he was there, leaning against the bookshelves, tormented by what he'd done.

Christian was no longer the monster Lilah had created.

Christian's eyes locked with his. They stared at each other for a few moments. Then Sebastian nodded at him. A nod designed to tell Christian he understood. Or at least he would try.

Christian didn't react. He simply looked back at Rhys, kneeling beside Jane. Then with disgust and self-hatred burning in his eyes, Christian dissolved into shadows.

Sebastian returned to Rhys. He was the one who needed him right now.

"How is she?" Sebastian asked, but he already knew. Jane's breathing was so faint, even with his keen senses he could barely register the tiny breaths.

Rhys didn't answer. He just kept touching her. His fingers trembling as he stroked her face, her hair.

"You have to try and cross her over," Sebastian said.

"No."

"Are you just going to let her die?" Sebastian's tone was terse, but he didn't care. They couldn't just let her die without doing something.

"It won't work," Rhys said, still not looking away from her. "She can't give her consent."

Sebastian knew that what Rhys was saying was likely true. Mortals could not cross over without accepting the dark gift, as it was so quaintly called.

"Rhys," he said softly, placing a hand on his brother's shoulder, "she's going to die anyway. You need to try."

Rhys's head dropped, and he didn't say anything. Finally he stood and gently lifted Jane into his arms.

His swift steps took him from the room, and Sebastian didn't follow. Rhys needed to deal with this his own way.

Sebastian just hoped it was the right way.

Rhys carried Jane into his bedroom, placing her in the center of his bed. With great care, he arranged her in a position that made her appear as if she were only sleeping. Then he lay down beside her.

He tried to detect the rise and fall of her chest, the minute beat of her heart. He could, just barely, and he half feared it was only because he wanted to see it.

Tenderly, he touched her hair. The silken locks curled at the ends and twined around his fingers. He leaned forward to kiss her forehead.

When he moved back, he saw that her face had gone from pasty white to nearly gray. He closed his eyes, fighting with his indecision. He couldn't let her go. But if he couldn't cross her over, he couldn't bear to be the one to kill her.

He opened his eyes, feeling wetness roll down his cheeks. She looked so small, so fragile, lying beside him.

He hadn't been able to protect her. He had failed. Again, he'd failed.

Pulling her lifeless body to his chest, he hugged her tightly and buried his head into the crook of her neck.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled against her chilled skin. "Oh, Janie, I'm so sorry."

Letting out a strangled cry of agony, he reared back his head and sank his fangs into her jugular.

He drank until her breathing ceased and her heart stopped beating. Then with her body still cradled in his arms, he leaned back against the headboard. He looked down at her, her face a perfect, beautiful mask. Lifeless, empty. His tears rolled down his cheeks onto hers.

"Please come back to me," he pleaded in a whisper. "Please come back."

"Wake up, sleepyhead."

Jane's voice penetrated the darkness encompassing Rhys. He opened his eyes to find her leaning over him, a big smile on her full lips.

He immediately sat up, running his hands over her cheeks, her shoulders, her arms, making sure she was all right.

She laughed, the sound sweet and beautiful to his ears.

"I'm fine. In fact, I feel great."

He stared at her, still unable to believe that she was here, that she had crossed over. He'd held her until the sun, high in the sky, had forced him to sleep. But he'd fully expected to awaken to find her dead.

"I can't believe it."

"Believe what?"

He paused. Maybe she didn't realize what had happened.

Would she understand? Or would she hate him for crossing her over?

"Janie, last night-Christian attacked you."

She nodded. "Yes, I remember."

"You do?"

She nodded.

"Do you remember what Christian is?"

"Yes. I put it together last night. You have this fascinating book written by a man named Dr. Kurtland Fowler, and I started to see a lot of connections between you and the vampires he described. Although I don't think I really believed it until Christian appeared."

He stared at her, dumbfounded. "You are taking this very calmly."

"Well…" She considered that. "You've bitten me while we were making love, right?"

He nodded, sheepishly.

She smiled at his expression. "It was very nice," she assured him.

He raised an eyebrow at the word nice.

"I think from those bites, I was already crossing over."

Rhys shook his head. "It's not possible. A mortal has to give consent."

She shrugged. "Well, you crossed me over last night."

She had a point.

"Why do you think that?" he asked.

"The bathtub," she said with a small, knowing smile. "I could hear your thoughts. And as a mere mortal, I shouldn't have been able to do that."

That was true. He could often read hers, but not vice versa.

She suddenly leapt off the bed and headed toward the door.

"Where are you going?"

"To consult Dr. Fowler," she called back from the hallway.

Rhys shook his head, falling back against the pillows. He didn't have the strength to follow her yet. He was still too shaken, still too relieved that she'd made it. She'd crossed over.

But Jane was back within minutes, a book in hand. She crawled onto the bed. She sat down beside him and began searching through the index.

"Here we go," she said.

"Crossing over is the term used when a vampire brings a mortal over to vampirism. Generally, the vampire has to obtain the mortal's consent to achieve this goal. But in rare instances"-she turned and gave Rhys a significant look-"in rare instances, when the vampire and mortal are soul mates, consent does not need to be given, and the crossing over will begin from the first bite the vampire gives his mate."

She snapped the book closed, giving him a smug look.

He couldn't help smiling. "Proud of yourself, aren't you?"

"Yes."

He sat forward and kissed her, her lips clinging sweetly to his.

"So you aren't upset?" he asked seriously.

"Upset? Why?"

"You're a vampire."

She shrugged. "It sure beats dead."

He knew she meant the comment to be funny, but guilt weighed heavily in his chest. "Jane, you've been surrounded by death your whole life. Are you sure you won't come to resent this-a state between life and death."

She touched a hand to his cheek. "Yes, I did grow up surrounded by death. I know more about it than I want to. And I also know that whatever we are, it's not dead. I feel like I didn't start living until I met you. How can I ever resent an eternity with you? I love you."

He pulled her against him, his lips nibbling her neck, now healed and perfect.

She turned her head and captured his lips, kissing him back with a possessiveness he reveled in.

But after a few moments, she pulled away. "What-what happened to Christian?"

Rhys looked down at her, mixed emotions roiling through him. "He disappeared. But I don't think he'll be back."

She nodded. "Good. I was afraid you killed him."

That wasn't the response he'd expected. Christian had tried to kill her, nearly did. He couldn't imagine her having any sympathy for him. But she did. It was there in her expressive green eyes.

"I didn't seduce Lilah." He felt the need for her to know that. "She used her powers on me, controlling me. I was so repulsed the next morning with what I did. I'd never hurt Christian that way."

Jane listened, waiting for him to continue, knowing that he needed to.

"She seemed to become obsessed with me, probably because I'd refused her. She wasn't used to that. And she wasn't about to let my rejection go unpunished. One night, she showed up at my room. She flew into a rage and showed me her vampire self. She explained that she'd already made Christian the undead, and if I didn't willingly let her make me a vampire as well, she'd destroy my family."

Jane made a noise in her throat and reached for his hand, holding his fingers, stroking them.

"Even after seeing what she was, I thought I could refuse her. I thought I was stronger than her evil. The next day, Elizabeth fell ill. She had always been a delicate girl, and I initially wanted to believe that she just had some normal sickness. But as the days passed, it became apparent that she had more than a mere cold. I called in doctor after doctor, but they had no answers. Their best guess was consumption, and nothing could be done."

"But it wasn't consumption, was it?"

Rhys shook his head. The image of Elizabeth, small and frail in her bed, was as clear as if it had happened only yesterday. "Lilah came to me again, and she told me she was the one draining Elizabeth's life, and if I didn't cross over, she would kill her."

"So you agreed."

He nodded. "The next night, when I woke in my new vampire state, I went to Elizabeth. She was still in bed, her skin so pale it matched the whiteness of the sheets around her. I touched her, and her skin was icy. I knew then, she was gone. But I couldn't accept it. I couldn't accept that I had given up my soul, and Lilah had killed Elizabeth anyway."

Jane slipped her arms around him. He closed his eyes and pressed his cheek against the top of her head.

"Since she made me, I'd never be powerful enough to kill her. Not in a fight. So I started going to her, pretending that I was enamored with her. She was vain and so conceited, she believed me. And I began to bite her-draining her over and over. Until she literally went mad. It was the best I could do to punish her. But it punished Christian, too."

Jane rubbed his back, comforting him. Telling him with gentle caresses that it was okay. Or that it would be okay.

"You couldn't let Elizabeth 's death go unpunished," she stated.

"But I hurt Christian."

Jane shook her head. "No. Lilah hurt him. You tried to protect him."

His chest tightened. She understood. She believed. And for the first time, he almost felt peace when he thought about his family.

"I love you," he told her.

She kissed him. "I love you, too." She moved her mouth to his neck, nibbling the skin just below his jawline.

She peeked up at him, giving him an impish grin. "Did I mention that I have these amazing new teeth?"

He smiled, amazed by how quickly she could make him feel content, happy.

"Really?"

She nodded. "Now lie back and let me bite you."

As he fell back against the pillows, and he waited for her to taste him, he decided undeath didn't get any better than this.