Wings In The Night - Twilight Memories Part 14

"I believe I owe you an apology, Rhiannon."

"Whatever for?"

"I didn't take your meditation seriously. I should have."

She waved a dismissive hand. "Don't give up your skepticism so easily. We haven't found Jamey yet."

"But we're on his trail. Tamara feels it too strongly for it to be a mistake. I don't doubt that."

Roland shook his head. "Admit it, Eric. She had you hooked from the moment those candles burst to life on their own."

Eric smiled and glanced over his shoulder at Rhiannon. Roland wished he could do the same, but looking at her had traumatic effects on his mind.

"He's right," Eric said. "That was a convincing display."

By the tone of Rhiannon's voice, Roland knew the exact expression on her face. That almost smile. The look in her eyes that said she knew something you didn't. Many, many things you didn't.

"A simple parlor trick for an immortal, Eric. I could teach you to do it. To be honest, I usually light the candles in a more mundane manner, but I was angry and wanted to be sure you were suitably chastened."

Roland glanced sideways at his friend in time to see the surprise on his face.

"Well, it worked." Eric frowned and adjusted his mirror for a better view of her face. "You say you could teach me to do it?"

She must have nodded, but Roland wasn't certain. You have all become familiar with the physical strength that comes with immortality. But the dark gift brings with it a psychic strengthening, as well. It grows with age, as the physical powers do. Lighting the candles is simply a matter of focusing your mind's power on their wicks. Like a beam of light, it hits, and they ignite.

"As both the strengths reach full potential, we can learn to combine the psychic with the physical to achieve the two feats even I've not yet mastered. But I've heard of some who have."

Roland tilted his head. "Rhiannon, there are some things better left alone."

"Of course there are," she told him.

"Cobras and active volcanoes are among them. This is not."

Eric grinned wider. "She's got you there. Tell me, Rhiannon. What two feats are you speaking of?"

"One is flight. And I'm actually very close to mastering that one. I can remain aloft for just under a minute. The trick is in maintaining the speed, and keeping the mind utterly focused."

Roland did turn now. "For G.o.d's sake, Rhiannon! I had no idea you were experimenting with such nonsense. You'll get yourself killed."

Her eyes narrowed. "If I do, that will be no one's problem but my own." She s.h.i.+fted her gaze back to Eric. "Actually, practicing is horrible. I can only go up once a night. Then I fall and am usually too broken and bruised to do more than crawl back to my lair and wait for the healing sleep."

Eric frowned, and Roland felt the glance he shot his way. "That is pus.h.i.+ng your luck, Rhiannon. Suppose one night you're too badly injured to make it back before dawn?"

She shrugged. "Then I supposed I would roast, wouldn't I?"

She was trying to hurt him, Roland thought. Her words were filled with bitterness and pain; pain caused by his own careless words. She was only speaking this way to strike back. What in G.o.d's name had he said to hurt h.e.l.l this much?

"And the other feat?" Eric prompted.

"Ah, this will amaze you. There are some, I am told who are able to alter their form."

"You mean, change shape? In what way?"

"Any way they wish, I imagine. The tales I've heart name only one immortal capable of such feats, and the forms he's said to have taken include the raven, the wolf and the infamous vampire bat."

Now, Roland noted with a twinge of grat.i.tude, even Tamara's attention was caught. She'd done nothing throughout the entire ride but stare out the window into the pa.s.sing night.

"You've got to be kidding," she said, eyes wide. "A vampire bat?"

"Well, I like to think he has a sense of humor, and did it on a lark. Honestly, if given the ability to be anything one wished, why would one choose to be a nasty little bat?"

"Who is this talented immortal?" Eric asked, and Roland could tell by the tone of his voice that he was fascinated by the possibilities.

"He is called Damien. He is said to be the oldest and most powerful of any of us. I never sought him out. I have no desire to meet the man."

"Why not? I'd be thrilled to talk to him," Eric said.

Rhiannon lowered her voice deliberately, Roland was sure. "You know the trick I did, igniting the candles with my mind?" Eric nodded. "Well, it is said Damien can perform the same feat on people, mortal and immortal alike. He just looks at them, and... poof! Living torches."

Tamara nudged her with an elbow. "You're trying to scare us." She looked at Roland. "None of this is true, is it, Roland?"

He sighed. "As far as I know, it's all true. Though I've never witnessed any of it firsthand."

Eric shot Roland an accusing stare. "Why have you never told me any of this?"

"As I said, there are some things best left alone. You think I want you out leaping from rooftops and breaking your neck? Changing yourself into a baboon and then getting stuck that way? Seeking out this man who can burn you to a cinder?"

"Honestly, Roland, you are such a--" Rhiannon stopped in the middle of the sentence, her entire body going rigid. Her hand flew to her lips. "Stop the car! Stop, Eric, at once!"

Eric slammed his foot onto the brake pedal. Tires skidded in gravel as he tried to pull to the side. Rhiannon was out the door before the vehicle had come to a full stop. Like a gazelle, she leaped the ditch and bounded into the forest.

Roland raced after her, having no idea what to expect. He knew Eric and Tamara were right behind him, but his entire being was focused on Rhiannon. He'd felt the slap of her sudden shock as if it had been his own. But she'd been so closed off to him since they'd spoken in the cimetiere that he hadn't been able to tell what was wrong.

Then he saw her. A quivering, sobbing heap on the ground, her arms around the sleek, black body. Pandora wasn't moving. The cat's eyes were closed, and there was a sickening twist to one foreleg. Blood caked to a cut near her silken ear.

Roland knelt and pulled Rhiannon away. Eric and Tamara were there, and as Eric began to examine the cat, Roland held Rhiannon in his arms. She sobbed helplessly, her entire body quaking with each spasm. Gone was the haughty, arrogant princess. In his arms, he held a devastated child, and it tore his heart out to see her so tortured.

"She's alive," Eric said softly. "But I'm not sure we can save her. She needs a veterinarian."

"Then we'll find her one," Roland declared, his arms tightening of their own will around her shuddering body. Her tears soaked his cloak at the shoulder. "There's town five miles east of here. It will only be a small detour." Roland lowered his head, pressed his lips to hers "She'll be all right, Rhiannon," he whispered into her hair. "I promise you."

She shook her head against his neck. "She... has to be." She drew a ragged breath and lifted her head to gaze into his eyes. "I'm s-sorry." Stiffening, she pulled herself from his embrace. She bent over the cat again, carefully slipped both forearms beneath the body and lifted her. Then she turned and started for the car, her shoulders still quaking with involuntary sobs.

Roland swallowed hard. Had he so alienated her that she couldn't even accept comfort from him?

He raced ahead of her, and opened the car's rear door. Rhiannon folded herself into the vehicle, the cat still in her arms. She scooted across the back seat, cradling the huge animal's head and shoulders in her lap. Roland gently eased Pandora's hindquarters in as far as he could, and closed the door with care. Tamara squeezed into the front, between the two men.

As Eric drove, Rhiannon whispered, stroking the cat's big, still head. She spoke as if no one else were in the car, addressing the animal as if it were human. "Don't leave me now, Pandora. There is no one else, you know. Only you. If you go, I'll be alone again." Between each few words, a sob was torn from her breast.

Tamara turned in the seat, tears dampening her lashes. "You love her very much, don't you?"

Rhiannon shook her head briskly. Her hair hung over her face, still bowed to the cat's. Tears glued strands of it to her cheeks. "Don't be ridiculous." She sniffed and sobbed once more. "I'm an immortal. I don't believe in loving anything." She stroked Pandora's head. "It's just that... she has loved me. Just as I am, she has loved me. No one else ever has."

"Oh, Rhiannon--"

"I never had to prove myself to her. I was never unworthy in her huge green eyes. Never her curse."

Roland winced at her words.

"Unconditional acceptance, absolute devotion. I've never known those things in all my years of existence except from Pandora. She wouldn't dream of rejecting me as not good enough to deserve her attention."

Roland felt a stinging in the backs of his eyes, and he heard a suspicious sniff from Eric. "Rhiannon, no one could ever see you as unworthy--"

"No one but you, you mean? Ah, but you were not the first. No, that honor was reserved for the man who sired me. Don't think your indifference is so important, Roland The greatest Pharaoh of Egypt labeled me his curse long before you did."

Eric pulled the car to a stop at an all-night service station, and as the attendant emerged, he rolled down his window and asked in French if there was a veterinarian in town. When the answer was affirmative, Roland got out and demanded a telephone and a directory. He would rouse the man from sleep, if necessary.

As he waited for the veterinarian to answer his telephone, he berated himself endlessly. He'd known nothing of Rhiannon's past. That her father had rejected her. Oh G.o.d, and with the same words he'd used in the cimetiere. He could not have caused her more heartache, he suspected, had he been deliberately seeking to destroy her. Could he not inhale without hurting her? How could he repair the pain he'd caused?

Rhiannon leaned over the table in the clinic that was no more than a room in the man's home. "You ought to keep her sedated until I return," Rhiannon told him. "There is no telling how she will react to strangers."

"Oui, I will take no chances, mademoiselle." He rubbed his balding head, and adjusted the rectangular specs on his nose. "I have treated many species, but never ze pet panther." He paused, but Rhiannon offered no explanation. After a moment he shrugged and let it go. "She was struck by ze auto, non?"

"I don't know. I found her in the woods like this." Rhiannon glanced up into the mortal's pale blue eyes. "If you can save her, I will build you a new clinic. An entire hospital, if you wish. I will give you more money than you can make in a year. Three years."

His smile was sudden, and genuine. He took her hand and patted it. "I adore animals, mademoiselle. You share zat with me, non? I will save her eef I can, whether you promise me the moon or bushel of apples as payment." He released her hand to stroke Pandora's silken fur.

"I believe you will." She sniffed, and swiped at her eyes. She hadn't cried so much since the guards had carried her from her father's palace, to be placed in the temple of Isis. She'd been a five-year-old child then. She was ageless now. It was ridiculous, how fond she'd grown of the cat. "I don't know when I can come for her. A few days, perhaps."

"I will care for her. Do not fear."

"Thank you." It didn't seem enough. She'd meant what she'd said. If he pulled Pandora through this, she would shower him with rewards.

Leaving the cat there felt like abandoning a babe. Rhiannon fought her tears and forced herself to go. Jamison needed her right now. She mustn't forget that.

In the car, she sat in stony silence for a time, until Tamara took her hand and held it firmly. "She'll be all right."

Rhiannon nodded. "Lucien will not."

"You think he did that to her?"

Rhiannon nodded again. "Pandora was with Jamey. Now Jamey is with Lucien, and Pandora is on a cold table. Yes, I believe he is responsible. And I believe he will wish for death long before it's granted him." She closed her eyes and sent her thoughts over the miles. Do you hear me, Lucien? I'm coming for you, you know.

Her eyes flew wide with surprise when she heard, echoing through her mind, the reply. I'll be waiting.

"It will be dawn soon. We need to seek shelter."

Tamara sighed in frustration and Roland well understood her feelings. "We'll do Jamey no good if we all sizzle in the sun, Tamara."

"True enough."

Eric continued driving, but turned onto smaller and narrower dirt tracks, in search of a safe resting spot for all of them. Finally, an abandoned barn came into view. Roland pointed to it. "We can drive around to the back, to hide the car from view. Better yet, get the door open and pull it right inside. What do you think?"

"That would be the best idea. The ground in front looks smooth enough. Why don't you open the door, and see if there's room inside?"

Roland did, wrenching the door. It gave way and slid on its rusted tracks until there was room enough for the car to pa.s.s through. The barn was empty, save for a huge mound of musty-smelling hay and a few ancient-looking tools scattered about. Roland moved a broken pitchfork and an old milk can out of the way, and waved for Eric to bring the car in.

As soon as the engine died, Roland closed the barn door, plunging them into darkness.

"This will be safe enough," Tamara observed.

"Can't be certain about cracks and crevices, Tamara. We'd best burrow into that haystack before we sleep, just to be safe."

She nodded, moving closer to Eric, who slipped his arm around her shoulders and squeezed her closer. She let her head lean onto his shoulder and closed her eyes. "What do you suppose this Lucien person wants with Jamey? He's not DPI."

Eric shook his head.

"He wants immortality, Tamara," Rhiannon told her. "He wants me to transform him. I imagine he will use Jamey's life to bargain with."

Tamara grimaced, and turned fully into Eric's arms. Roland felt his stomach clench and unclench in involuntary spasms. His arms ached to wrap around Rhiannon in the same manner. But he told himself the breach between them was a good thing. No matter how bad it felt. No matter how he longed to erase the hurt he'd caused her. It was better this way.

"He knows we're coming," Rhiannon said. "He has incredible psychic capacity for a human. He's waiting for us."

"At least we know Jamison will be kept alive in the meantime," Roland said, seeking to comfort Tamara in some small way. Unfortunately, he was about to cause her a great deal more discomfort.

"Tamara, there is something I need to tell you. About Jamey."

She turned, frowning. "What is it, Roland?"

Roland averted his gaze. She would likely hate him for this. "I've initiated a search for his natural father."

Her eyes widened. "You--but why? I don't understand. Jamey doesn't need him. He has us."

Roland shook his head slowly. "I am as fond of him as you are, Tamara. You know that. But we must think of what is best for Jamison."

"To leave the people he knows and loves? To go off and live with a stranger? You think that's best for him?"

Eric touched her face, turned it toward his. "Tamara, hear him out. If you were in Jamey's place, wouldn't you at least like to know your father, to find out something about him?"

She frowned harder, and shook her head. "He abandoned his son--"