Morgan lay curled
drowsily against Giacinta's side. "Tell it again, 'Cinta," she
requested. She referred to the book resting in her foster mother's lap. Fairy
tales she'd heard multiple times that night, never mind previous nights. If
prompted, she could probably recite it on her own.
Giacinta groaned.
"Morgan, it's three in the morning. Do you really need to hear it
again?" Morgan nodded, waiting. She smothered a sigh of impatience.
"Let's recap. The monsters eat all the goody-two-shoes little princesses and
live happily ever after, okay?"
Morgan's lower
lip jutted out stubbornly. "I want to hear the whole thing."
"We've read
the whole book," she snapped. "Twice."
"I haven't
heard it yet," a voice like raw silk said from the doorway. "What's
one more time?" Kieran rubbed his eyes wearily. He'd fallen back to sleep
only to wake again. He didn't look any better for it.
"Bed,
Morgan," Giacinta commanded sharply. This time Morgan knew not to argue.
She slid off the couch and rushed over to Kieran. He bent down so she could
place a sloppy kiss on his cheek and bestow him with a fierce hug. With a pout
aimed at Giacinta, she shuffled out of the room and up the stairs.
Kieran ran a hand
through his ruffled hair. He walked
across the room, staring blearily at the wall like he was aiming for a certain
spot, and dropped on the couch beside her. "Was that really
necessary?" he asked.
She glanced over
him quickly, taking in the rumbled clothes and creases left by the blankets on
his face. "What happened to you?" she responded, ignoring his
question. "You look like a bad case of insomnia."
"Insomnia
doesn't walk," he corrected. "I do."
"For the
time being," she admitted. "Although if your dear brother gets his
hands on you, that may change."
Kieran shrugged.
"Kian won't do anything to me.
He's under the misconception that if I die, he dies. I'm not sure I mind
that at all. It keeps me safe with very little trouble."
She nodded,
agreeing, but didn't say anything. The silence settled around them like a
thick, comfortable blanket. Neither felt the need to break it due to uneasiness
or discomfort. They knew each other well enough to treat the silence for what
it was--lack of anything important to say.
Watching him
without bothering to hide it, she saw the creases fade slowly from his
malleable skin. Something like unhappiness haunted his violet eyes, but she was
used to seeing that emotion. For as long as she'd known him, Kieran Redfern had
not been happy.
She'd tried to
change that once, hoping her obsession with Kian would disappear during a
relationship with his twin. It hadn't happened and they'd both known it.
Finally they'd settled on something that suited them both far
better--friendship. But still he was not content.
Knowing that ate
at her, but she didn't know what to do about it. Eventually she accepted that
only one thing would make him happy. She wasn't it. She didn't know what was.
She blinked, then he slowly came back into focus.
He leaned his head
back against the couch. It was a habit both twins had and she knew what it
meant based on previous experience. He
was going to tell her something she probably didn't want to hear.
She was right.
"I'm
leaving," he said simply. No other explanation. Just those two words,
which held a depth of meaning she could not begin to decipher.
Startled, her
black eyes widened and she sat up, swiveling to face him. "Where are you
going?"
He didn't look at
her or open his eyes. His body was relaxed, but she sensed his muscles tensing
beneath his calm façade. "Ireland," he said casually. "Home, I
guess."
It wasn't
entirely the truth, but she didn't need to know that. He was going home, but now home meant Vegas, in a dingy little
apartment close to Thierry's mansion. He wasn't around enough to mind the
shabbiness or the tenants occupying the apartment while he wasn't there. At
least he didn't have to worry about bugs. Well, not the kind that crawled
anyway.
"You're
coming back, aren't you?" she asked, with a little more concern than he
expected.
He opened his
eyes and looked at her. "Why, Giacinta, I didn't know you cared."
"I worry
about you," she admitted reluctantly. "You've never been quite the
same since that little tiff you had with Kian."
He raised one burgundy
eyebrow and waited, but nothing else came. She was downplaying it a little,
calling it a tiff. They both knew it had been more of a battle. She may not
have been in the room when it happened, but she'd been in the house. As long as
she'd been on the same block, she would have heard what went on. The shattering
glass and screaming would have been hard to miss.
That she called
it a tiff was definitely an understatement, but then again, she had always been
good at throwing those in his face. She liked to see how he reacted.
When he felt he'd
waited long enough, he promised softly, "I'll always come back."
He saw her
visibly relax. The twins kept their promises. And because Kieran always kept
his promises, Aeshli had to die. He didn't relish the thought of killing her
again. He didn't know how many times he would rue an oath made to Kian in a fit
of anger, but there it was. An oath. Something he couldn't break, whether he
wanted to or not.
As if she'd been
prompted, she asked, "Is that a promise?"
He nodded. She
accepted that without any questions, knowing he would be true to his word. He
always had, hadn't he? She glanced at him again, then laughed. "Kieran, go
to bed. You look like hell."
He glared at her.
"Thank you, Giacinta. You always did do wonders for my self-esteem."
Nevertheless, he stood up to follow her advice, stretching as he rose. If she
said he looked as bad as he felt, she was probably right.
"Goodnight,
Kieran," she said sweetly.
The corners of
his mouth curled. "Goodnight, Giacinta," he replied, his voice just
as sweet and somehow more sarcastic. He walked out of the room slowly and she
could see the fatigue curtailing every move he made. Worry curled in her
stomach before she dismissed it. She'd tried, but he wouldn't let her help.
Kieran's problems
were his.
She sighed,
leaning back against the couch. She knew she could no longer interfere in the
twins' relationship with each other, but, really, wasn't that what she was
doing? She'd spent her entire life meddling in their affairs, but not to
improve or destroy anything between them.
She was far more
selfish than that. She knew it, too.
Kieran was
nothing more than a way to get at Kian, to find a way to make him pay. He'd
condemned her to eternal life and then abandoned her. It was not something
Giacinta appreciated.
She'd been
infatuated with him from the moment she'd seen him. He was gorgeous and strong.
And he was a wanderer. Maybe not a gypsy, but close enough that her tribe might
accept their courtship. She'd wanted him, so she had pursued him. It had taken
quite a bit of effort on her part, but eventually she'd won. Or so she'd
thought until he tried to walk out of her life.
A frown wavered
over her lips. When Kian made her a vampire, it was supposed to bind her to him.
Instead it had only pushed them apart. And when she told him she loved him, he
laughed at her. He laughed and walked away.
Kian was good at
walking away or disappearing if he didn't want to be found. His latest
disappearing act lasted longer than any of the others. Twenty years. She didn't
know where he'd been or what he'd been doing. One day he had walked out, and
then, twenty years later--to the day--he'd strode back in like nothing had
happened.
And then he had
the nerve to tell her he'd only come by to get his stuff. She should have
burned it.
He'd done nearly
the same thing the first time. Not quite the same, but he had changed as much
and as many times as a chameleon in only the three hundred years she had known
him. She couldn't expect him to do something more than once. No, that would be
asking too much of him. Kian, if nothing else, was unpredictable.
The first time…
The memory lingered in her mind as clear as the day it had happened. Every
action, every thought, every word…
"Make me a
vampire." It was so simple, this request, that he stared at her in shock.
He didn't realize she knew. Or maybe it was something he didn't want to
acknowledge. Either way, she had shut him up rather effectively.
His violet eyes
narrowed. "I don't know what you're talking about," he answered
blithely.
She raised an
eyebrow. "Kian, don't be ridiculous. We both know what you are. I've seen
you feeding in the woods."
He blushed. She
didn't know vampires could do that. Then he said, "What I am is my own
concern. I'm not turning you into a vampire."
She shrugged
then, twisting a blade of grass between her fingers. "Why not?" she
asked negligently. As though she was asking why he couldn't go for a swim
instead of why he couldn't kill her.
He turned to her
then, his face more serious than she had ever seen it. "You don't know
what it's like," he replied viciously. His violet eyes flamed with anger.
"You're a gypsy. You aren't a murderer, but you will become one if I grant
you your request."
"To some
people, gypsies and murderers are one and the same," she pointed out. She
watched him carefully, searching for the slightest sign of weakness. When she
saw what she wanted, she continued, "I know what I want. If you won't give
it to me, I'll find someone else who will."
He smiled then,
his teeth lengthening beneath her gaze. "If you insist," he said. He
moved his body so it was closer to her. He leaned in and there was a brief
moment of pleasure when she felt his lips against her neck. She shivered. She'd
wanted him, this, for so long now.
Then he bit. The
pain was fierce, running through her body like poison. Through the haze of pain
she heard his mind-voice telling her this would be over soon. A moment later,
the pain suddenly stopped.
He pulled back,
lying her carefully against the grass before raising a hand. He slit his own
neck, just a tiny cut at the base of his throat, and guided her head to it. The
blood had flowed into her mouth, rich and thick. Warm life-giving fluid full of
the essence that was Kian Redfern.
When it was over,
she was slightly dazed. Whatever she'd been expecting, it hadn't been this.
"We must do
this two more times before you come a vampire," he said casually.
She reached up to
finger the tiny puncture wounds at her neck. "Then I will be
immortal." Awe filled her voice.
He shook his
head. The two times came and went quickly. The final time, he told her what she
needed to know before they started. Things that would help her survive as a
vampire. He must have been planning to leave even then. Finally, he told her
the thing she feared most. That she would be reborn, but that first she must
die. Death was what she tried to escape. She had spent nights awake dreading
this moment.
And as she died,
her consciousness flowed out of her and darkness overwhelmed her senses. Fear
paralyzed her until she remembered nothing else.
When she had
woken, he had been gone. No good-byes or promises. Just gone.
She had wanted to
hate him for it. She still did. She wanted to hate him for many things. One
memory in particular haunted her, making her cringe every time she thought
about it. It was when she told Kian she loved him.
"Kian,
please don't walk away again," she begged, tears springing to her eyes.
She searched for him so long and he was going to disappear. Again.
"Please," she whispered. "I love you."
He laughed.
Strong, deep laughter that wounded her. "You don't love me," he said
bitterly. "You want me. I'm a prize to be won. Nothing else."
Frustrated, she
shook her head. "No, it's more than that," she insisted. Why didn't
he understand?
He sighed.
"Giacinta, you don't know anything about love, except the love you have
for yourself. I have a soulmate.
Whatever you feel can't replace that."
"How would
you know?" she asked. "Have you ever tried returning someone else's
love? Have you ever looked for anyone besides this girl?"
"No,"
he answered. His face was grim. "I haven't. I don't need to and you
wouldn't either if you would look for yours instead of wasting your time with
me."
She glared at
him. "You owe me," she snapped.
His mouth fell
open in surprise. "I never made you any promises. You asked to become a
vampire. I made you one. I don't owe you anything now." His eyes narrowed.
"I tried to talk you out of it, remember?"
Her face set, she
replied, "You will be mine one day."
He walked away
laughing.
If nothing else,
she didn't want him to be happy. He'd left
her, dammit. She found out later -- too late, probably -- that he'd only made
her a vampire because she looked like someone named Aeshli. And so she got back at him the only way she
knew how: she helped his twin kill his soulmate.
She still wasn't
sure why Kieran let her help or even why he killed this girl in every lifetime.
She didn't ask because it wasn't any of her business. He kept his reasons to
himself. She was happy knowing she was helping to destroy Kian's life. It was
enough for her.
She checked her watch.
Four. The nights she and Morgan read bedtime stories always ran late. She had
better get some sleep now, before the sun was up and sleep was impossible.
Besides, there was work to do.
Kian's soulmate
needed to die.
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