Beloved Forever Part 7

"Uh, wait, um-"

He paused. "Tremont."

"What does Nicholas want?"

Tremont shrugged, which brought attention to the place where an arm should hang. "I didn't ask." He turned his back to leave.

She took a step toward him. "Please help me."

He shook his head, not bothering to turn around. "I can't."

"You tried to before." Her voice broke. "I need your help."

His shoulders slumped, and he took another step into the hallway. "I'm sorry." He closed the door behind him.

She sighed, realizing she was alone in this apartment, at Nicholas's mercy. Emily slid from the bed and went into the bathroom to take a quick shower. When she returned to the bedroom a few minutes later, she found her s.h.i.+rt and jeans laundered and placed on the dresser. A deep red stain remained on the soft-pink T-s.h.i.+rt, and she left it folded. She went into the closet and selected a red silk s.h.i.+rt with flounces and frilly cuffs. It wasn't to her taste, but she had to admit it was s.e.xy when she eyed herself in the mirror.

She had taken a step away from the mirror when she froze and turned back. Yes, her reflection was as clear as ever. Transformation into a vampire hadn't changed that. If the dreams were reliable, sunlight wasn't fatal either. She wondered what other myths were nonsense as she walked back to the closet, searching for a pair of shoes.

A shoe rack lined one side of the closet, but her sneakers weren't in the neatly arranged piles. Emily settled for ankle boots in supple kid leather. When she lifted the boots, she saw her f.a.n.n.y pack lying on the floor. She lifted it too and carried everything to the bed.

She put the shoes aside and opened the pack. Emily counted the money and was rea.s.sured to find it all there. If she could devise a means of escape, she would have enough money to get home.

A knock at the door had her jumping up and shoving the pack under the bed. The comforter dangled over long enough to obscure the shadowed recess under the bed. She probably had no need to hide the pack since he returned it to her, but went with her instincts. "Yes?"

The key turned in the lock and Tremont entered. "The master is ready for you."

She held up a finger. "Let me put on my shoes."

He watched impa.s.sively as she laced the boots, and then slipped them on her feet. "A perfect fit." The thought was disturbing. What else did he know about her? She tied the strings and stood up, trying to push the disquieting thought from her mind. She would need all of her faculties to confront Nicholas again. "I guess I'm ready," she said with a sick smile. His expression remained bland as he beckoned her forward. He stepped aside to allow her pa.s.sage, before following. Once outside the room, he took the lead.

Emily's eyes scanned the long hall. The decor was black and red, like her room. She saw no deviation of color at all, not even in the wallpaper, which was matte black with tiny red diamonds forming a border at eye-level. Several closed red doors marked their pa.s.sage, but they gave no hint to what lay behind them.

The same color scheme made up the living room when they left the hallway. Nicholas was sprawled across a vermilion leather sofa that appeared to be floating in a sea of black. Only the electronic equipment in the black lacquered entertainment center deviated from the red and black scheme.

He held an opaque goblet in his hand, and he set it on a chrome coaster on the black table before standing. "Emily." His voice emerged as a silky purr. "That color is ravis.h.i.+ng on you."

She reflexively pulled at the dipping neckline as his eyes settled there, wis.h.i.+ng she had worn something else. Even a turtleneck wouldn't make her feel more secure, though it would cover the vein throbbing sluggishly in her throat. His dark eyes would still make her feel stripped bare.

"Are you hungry?" He handed the goblet to Tremont and waved him away.

She shuddered, dreading the prospect of feeding from him again. She was more afraid of her own reaction than taking his blood. However, she could feel the hunger building again. It wasn't as sharp and painful as last night, but she wanted to eat. "Yes."

He nodded. "Come with me." He held out his hand.

She frowned and slowly took it, wondering where he planned to feed her. Any place was preferable to a bed. It would make temptation easier to withstand.

Nicholas led her into the kitchen, and she blinked. The color scheme s.h.i.+fted from red and black to white on white. The sudden change hurt her eyes, and she lifted a hand to block them.

"Blinding, isn't it?" He sounded cheerful. "Tremont insisted on being able to see what he was doing in the kitchen."

"Oh." She eased away her hand, and her eyes didn't protest as much, although the bright color still seemed to drill into her brain.

"Your eyes are more sensitive now," he said, leading her through the swinging door at the end of the long, narrow kitchen and into the dining room. The colors were once again black and red. "Black and red are the easiest colors to tolerate, though not the most impressive decorating scheme."

"I wondered about that. I thought you had an extreme fondness for the colors."

He nodded. "I do like both. Black is the color of death, and red is the color of life. A complimentary pairing, but I've grown bored with it after eight hundred years."

The blase reminder of how old he claimed to be caused the breath to stick in her throat as she slid into the chair he held for her. She wanted to doubt his sanity, but couldn't after last night. If she was avampire-and she had to be after surviving the bullet in her brain-he must certainly be so. Even her dreams confirmed his age. "What's it like?"

He settled into the other chair across the small table. "What's what like?"

"Living so long."

Nicholas's mouth twisted. "Interminable at times."

"Then why do you do it? Why don't you end it all? Are you afraid of h.e.l.l?"

He laughed. "Not at all. I have long since cast aside such antiquated notions. Vampirism it isn't a curse from Satan, nor a punishment from G.o.d."

She acted from habit when she lifted the napkin at her elbow and folded it on her lap, briefly wondering about the silverware she found wrapped inside, before her thought returned to their conversation. "You don't believe in G.o.d?"

He shook his head. "I've lived hundreds of years and never seen any proof of an almighty being. I can hold a crucifix in my hand for hours. I often visit my friend at St. Peter's. He's a priest and a vampire.

Entering the church doesn't bring me pain."

"I don't understand. In the dream, you told me-Emma-that you had to stop believing. She believed, and you know what happened to her. How can your friend be a priest?"

Nicholas held off answering as Tremont entered carrying beige china plates with navy borders. Each plate held a sliver of steak, a few baby potatoes and two asparagus tips. He placed one in front of each of them before leaving the dining room and returning quickly with two crystal gla.s.ses and a decanter of dark red liquid. "Will there be anything else, master?"

"Not right now, Tremont." Nicholas waved him away. When he had gone, he said, "Michael has reconciled his faith with his circ.u.mstances. He doesn't believe vampirism originated from evil, and so he is able to sustain his beliefs. The mind is powerful, Emily."

"I see." She looked at the food before her, then at the silverware. "Is that what allows you to eat?"

He poured the liquid into their gla.s.ses, and the tangy scent of blood wafted through the room. "No. You function much as you did when alive. You can still eat and drink, in moderation. Your normal bodily systems will continue almost as normal, including your period." He grinned. "Not even death can stop that curse, I'm afraid. You can still have children. The only real difference-aside from an increase in strength, mental prowess, healing and agility-is your body no longer makes blood."

"I-I don't understand."

Nicholas lifted his gla.s.s and stared at the contents. "In addition to altering the physiology of your brain and other cells, the change converts your bone marrow so that it can no longer make blood cells. If you go a long time without blood, you die. Hence, we must replenish the blood." He lifted the gla.s.s. "Salute."

She shook her head. "My heart stopped beating. I should have died."

"Very few things will kill a vampire and prevent regeneration. You were going through the change. Yourheart stopped beating, but you continued to live on a cellular level for several hours after brain death, as do we all-human and vampire. Combined with our ability to heal, it makes us virtually immortal, as long as we provide nourishment for our bodies to rebuild. The idea that vampires could die from being staked is laughable-"

She shook her head, interrupting him. "What about Emma? She impaled herself on a cross and obviously died. Explain that."

His eyes clouded with pain, but he nodded. "She believed she had been turned to something evil. She saw the cross as her salvation. I'm sure you've heard the phrase 'mind over matter'. That's all it was.

She believed she would die, so she did."

She frowned. "Then how does one kill a vampire?"

A small smile flashed across his face. "Are you thinking of doing away with me?"

She refused to answer.

Nicholas chuckled. "Really, the only thing that kills a vampire is excessive force-the type it's impossible to recover from. Violent impact from a car accident would do it, if it severed the right body parts or caused us to bleed out. A guaranteed way is severing the spinal column. Remove or destroy the heart. I mean, really destroy it. Remove a stake, and the heart can regenerate. Cut it out or blow up the organ, and there's nothing our bodies can do in time to save ourselves."

She lifted a brow. "It sounds fabulous," she said mockingly. "What's the catch?"

"We require blood to live. It's as simple as that. We have to consume several liters every couple of nights. There must always be at least four liters in an adult vampire at all times. Fresh is best, but preserved blood will sustain us, leaving us free to only hunt once or twice a week."

She lifted a brow. "That doesn't make sense. I remember learning in biology that blood cells can live for weeks or even years, depending on which type they are. You should only have to eat once every few months."

Nicholas shrugged. "What I've learned has been gleaned from a small group of researchers with a stake in learning the origins of vampirism." He winked. "Forgive the pun. I'm an investor, not a researcher. I don't have all the answers, but I do know the blood we consume lives only forty-eight hours or so in our bloodstream before its absorbed. The physical changes to our cells that gives us increased strength, faster regeneration, and mental powers speeds up our metabolism and causes our bodies to process the blood at a rapid rate. Apparently, borrowed blood isn't as durable either. It doesn't have the same characteristics as the blood your body used to produce."

She struggled to understand his words, wis.h.i.+ng she had opted for advanced biology courses to fill her core science requirements at Huxley J.C. "What about blood types? I'm O-positive, so can I only consume O-positive?"

Nicholas shook his head. "No. It doesn't matter what type you ingest. It has something to do with cellular mutation during the change. If you want to know more, you'll have to ask one of the researchers.

Personally, I don't care to know every facet of how the process works. I'm satisfied with knowing I must feed." Her brow furrowed. "How can you do it? Doesn't it bother you to kill people to stay alive?"

Nicholas met her eyes. "Feeding is a fact of life for me, beloved. You'll adjust in time."

She shook her head. "I won't do it. It's murder."

"Survival isn't murder. We're hunters, and we need them to live." He shrugged. "We happen to have the advantage when it comes to pursuing humans. After your first few feedings, you'll cease to worry about such things. It'll become second nature. "

Emily shuddered. "I'd rather die."

"That isn't an option." Nicholas slammed his hand against the table, causing the gla.s.ses and decanter to rattle. "I won't lose you again."

She bowed her head to hide the tears threatening to stream down her face. "Why are you doing this to me? Why couldn't you just let me go?"

He sighed, and his anger seemed to fade. "I tried, though I doubt you believe that. I wanted to be free of this obsessive love I have for you." His mouth twisted, and his brow furrowed. "It must be a trait common to vampires. We can't seem to let go of the past."

He lowered his gla.s.s to the table and stared at his plate, where his food remained untouched. "You own my soul, but I thought I could go on without you. If not for the gypsy woman who tried bargaining for her life with information about you, I probably never would have seen you again. That may have been for the best, but I can't alter my decision now."

She swallowed heavily. "You killed the woman who led you to Erukan?"

Nicholas nodded. "She was convenient, and I needed blood. When she told me of you, I had to find out if it was true." His face twisted with pain. "When I found you, only to have you stolen from me once more, I knew I had to find you again. I owed it to you for not saving you."

"You couldn't have," she said reluctantly. "You would have been killed, and I didn't-I mean, she didn't want that."

He shook his head. "I've lived with what I didn't do for centuries. I've lived with the guilt and continued agony each time I lost you. With everything we've been through, I've realized one thing. We belong together, Emily. We are soul mates. If I didn't cling to what I believed, everything that's happened would have been for nothing."

A harsh laugh broke from her. "You can discard religion, but not a silly belief in soul mates?"

His dark eyes glittered. "Don't mock me. Don't deny what you know is true. We're bound to each other. Forever. This time will be different."

Her eyes widened, and she immediately recalled the outcome of her two dreams. The realization seemed to hit her over the head. She had died in her previous lives. She had known that abstractly, but now wondered if each time she had died had been because of Nicholas's reappearance.

His expression cleared, and he seemed to be visibly calming himself. "Eat, Emily. You need yourstrength. Drink all of your wine."

"I didn't ask for this," she said as she lifted her fork and knife. "You never gave me the choice."

He took time to eat a bite of steak before answering. "I couldn't risk losing you. It was necessary."

She cut through an asparagus spear with more force than necessary, causing the tender vegetable to shred under the force of her knife. "Was it necessary to kill my friends too?"

"They were there."

She blinked, allowing a tiny bit of the grief she had suppressed to rise in her throat. Her voice emerged as a husky murmur. "Sara was my friend my whole life, since pre-school. Do you know what it does to me knowing you killed her? How can you expect me to feel anything for you, knowing what kind of monster you are?"

His expression remained bland. "You aren't completely innocent."

Her fork fell to the plate with a clatter. "What did I do wrong besides being in the wrong place at the wrong time?"

He dabbed his mouth with a napkin and met her eyes. "I saved the auburn-haired boy for your first feeding, Emily. I took his life, but his blood flows through your veins as we speak."

Nausea churned in her stomach, and she pushed away from the table, shaking her head, desperate to deny his words. It couldn't be. She wasn't responsible for Ron's death. "I didn't do it," she said forcefully. "You killed him, not me. I didn't know."

He looked up at her. "But does it matter if you didn't know? You're still receiving nourishment from your friend's blood. If I'm a monster, so are you."

Rage coursed through her, setting her teeth on edge, and making her thin pulse thump steadily. Before she could stop herself, Emily leapt from the seat and rushed forward, hurling herself at him. The impact of her body against his caused the chair to topple backwards, spilling them on the floor. She straddled his stomach and raised her hand. She brought it down with all of her strength and ripped at his face. When blood flowed from the wounds, a savage thrill of pleasure shot through her. She wanted to tear at him until nothing remained.

Emily slapped him on the other cheek, catching his nose with the sharp nail of her pinky. A chunk of his flesh tore away, and air hissed between his teeth. She pounded her fists against his chest, growing more enraged as he remained pa.s.sive. "You're the monster," she screamed. "You did this to me."

"Yes," he said with an air of calm.

She hit him across the face again, reopening the wounds that had begun to heal. "I hate you for what you've done to me." Her voice broke, but her anger remained pure, "What you've made me."

"What have I made you?" His voice was a whisper of silk against flesh and held an unexpected note of tenderness.

"Like you," she said with a sob and hit him again. He didn't retaliate, and she ached for him to. "Whywon't you fight back?" He lifted a hand and she tensed, awaiting the pain, welcoming it as a reminder of who she was. If she hurt and bled, she could pretend to be human again, if only for a short time until she healed.

Instead, he pushed the hair off her face and over her shoulder. "I don't want to hurt you."

She sagged. "You can't hurt me more than you have already." Her hands lowered to the carpet under his back, and she started to get up.

He wrapped his arms around her to hold her against him. "I can't be sorry for the choice I've made. I want you to believe I would never intentionally hurt you, but if I did, it had to be. I love you and want you with me. I'll do anything to ensure that."

Emily shook her head. "You contradict yourself. You claim to love me, but you don't care what your love does to me."

He scowled. "What has your love done to me, Emily? I've lost you four times, and I loved you more each time I found you. Each time, my heart died a bit more with you. If I could remove my love by tearing out my own heart, I wouldn't hesitate." His eyes clouded with pain. "To be able to walk away from you without feeling anything for you would be for the best, but I can't do it. My soul is dead without you."

"And now I'm dead too." A tear splashed from her eyes and fell onto his lips. Her chest tightened with emotions she refused to acknowledge when he licked it away. "You can't expect me to love you after what you've done to me."