Authors: Kallysten
I always wondered how he never saw coming that
Lorenzo would start looking over me for a reason other than that Will asked him
to do so. Or maybe he did anticipate we'd get that close, but he didn't realize
it would affect him as much. It's one of those things he refuses to talk about.
I think—no, I know—that Lorenzo did more than like
me. Love isn't a word he would ever have used, but like simply isn't enough.
The most he ever admitted to was caring, and he proved it many times, in many
ways.
I wasn't happy when I found out about why Lorenzo
had first taken an interest in me, and Will and I had a shouting match about
it. Well, I shouted, and Will just stood there. He can be so stubborn. He never
apologized for it. He did understand I was upset, at least, and he tried to
make things better by sending me roses. It confused the hell out of me. What
kind of man plays matchmaker then sends the woman flowers?
Time has healed that wound for me, and today I
can't regret having known Lorenzo, even if Will pushed him toward me. It might
have started as an assignment for him, but what we shared was real. And without
him, I wouldn't be here today. I wouldn't be what I am. And I wouldn't have
Will.
Twenty-eight years earlier, over the course of a week,
miles and miles of fortifications had been constructed around the city. The
mayor had launched a wide call for volunteers, and the population had responded
beyond all expectations. Most people who had come to the construction sites had
known nothing about building up walls but there had been enough people who did,
and the multitude of hands had helped to create five-foot wide and twenty-foot
high fortifications of stone and concrete, reinforced with steel. They weren't
impenetrable, and the point of entry in particular was vulnerable despite huge
doors that were replaced regularly, but they were enough. Engineers around the
country now often based their reinforcement designs over what had come to be
called the Newhaven model.
Leaning against the safeguard at the top of the walls,
Wilhelm kept his eyes on the small troop of demons advancing toward the city.
They'd be there in a few minutes. The Guard was ready, every soldier armed and
focused.
Or rather, almost every soldier.
At the foot of the walls, two soldiers were talking,
and demons or the coming fight seemed to be the last things on their minds.
“Aria, come on, drop it.”
That was Lorenzo. Wilhelm could have clubbed him over
the head. He wouldn't be getting anywhere with this kind of exasperated
protest.
“Drop it? I tell you I love you, and the best answer
you can come up with is that we should get ready for the fight! I am
not
dropping it!”
When they had started talking, Ariadne had been
whispering, but now she didn't seem to care anymore who might hear. Lorenzo
still did though; he shushed her and dropped his voice to an urgent murmur.
“You know I can't say it. I've told you vamps don't
love, not like humans do. Would you rather I lie to you?”
Before she could answer, the call to arms sounded,
three short tones that announced the imminent attack of demons. The archers on
the walls put themselves in position; they wouldn't shoot until the next bell
rang. At the foot of the walls, the troops lined up. Wilhelm glanced down at
Ariadne and Lorenzo. Her position was perfect, her eyes on the approaching
demons; at her side, Lorenzo was fidgeting, alternating glances at the demons
and at her as though he were waiting for her to answer his question.
Wilhelm looked again at the demons. There were barely
a dozen of them and the fight would be no more than a skirmish. He had other
places to be, other things to do. He should have left and let the Guard do what
it did best—fight. But when he descended the stairs, just as the last warning
echoed over the walls, it was to pass the doors right as they were being
closed, a sword already in his hand. Lorenzo and Ariadne were both distracted
and it wasn't the way to start a fight, any fight, even one that didn't promise
to be too arduous.
The demons charged. First blood was drawn on both
sides. Wilhelm focused on the task at hand, allowing only a tiny part of his
attention to remain on Ariadne and Lorenzo. Usually they fought side by side,
protecting each other, but tonight she kept advancing and leaving Lorenzo
behind. Every time he caught up with her, she changed course, turning her back
on him and on his help until he gave up pursuing her and began paying more
attention to the axe in his hand and what damage it could make. Wilhelm
growled. Lorenzo should have known better than leave her on her own.
He started weaving his way closer to her, slashing at
demons but not fighting any given one long enough to kill it. Even so, he wasn't
quick enough. All he could do was shout when a lance pierced Ariadne's armor
and plunged into her abdomen. At the same instant, her sword connected with the
demon's neck and her momentum finished the blow, almost severing its head, and
then she was down.
In the middle of the battle, Wilhelm didn't know if
anyone else had noticed. He couldn't take the risk that no one had. He ran to
her, picked her up and carried her to the doors, banging on them until the
small entrance carved in the middle of them opened, the metal locks clanking as
they were pulled.
“Medics!”
The shout hadn't finished passing his lips before the
gurney was there and hands were prying Ariadne from his arms and laying her
down. Her eyes opened as the medics pulled her toward the ambulance and a look
of panic crossed her face as she looked around her, a look that disappeared
when her gaze found Wilhelm walking next to the stretcher. Her hand rose toward
him.
“Stay with me.”
She coughed; her lips became flecked with blood. The
medics urged her not to talk as they hoisted the cot into one of the waiting
ambulances, but she didn't seem to hear them.
“I don't want to die alone.”
Wilhelm climbed in after her. Someone started saying
he couldn't come but he looked at the man coldly, and before long the human was
turning away, flustered. He jumped out of the ambulance and swung the doors
closed. One bang on the side of the vehicle and at once they were in motion.
There were two medics busy over Ariadne. Wilhelm tried
not to look at them or at the various things they poked or prodded her with.
Instead he sat on the edge of a box by her head and reached for her hand. It
felt too cold between his, colder than it had been, a lifetime ago it seemed,
when she had taken his.
“Is it true that vampires can't love?”
The words slid over Wilhelm, almost too foreign for
him to comprehend. But her eyes were waiting for an answer, and he struggled to
find one that wouldn't upset her.
“It's what all vampires are taught,” he said, his
voice wavering slightly.
“But is it true?”
The ambulance came to a stop, the doors were flung
open and he tried to let go of her hand so she could be wheeled away. She held
on to him, however, and he had no choice but to follow and try to answer when
she repeated her question again.
“In my experience, no, it’s not. But when you’ve been
taught otherwise, it can be hard to see.” He paused for a second, to try and
make his voice firmer. “It can be hard to admit too when it’s a human you care
about, because humans are so fragile and you know they’ll probably die long
before you.”
Someone was trying to slide a mask over her face, she
pushed it away with her free hand long enough to ask in a small voice, “Am I
going to die?”
“No. I'm not going to let that happen. Not now, not
ever.”
Her eyelids fluttered closed, even as the hand
clinging to his became limp. Wilhelm ground his teeth and turned to the medic
at his side. She was a vampire and one of the best surgeons the Guard could
count on. She met his eyes with steely determination and he nodded.
“Don't make me a liar.”
* * * *
Wilhelm had been pacing in the deserted waiting area
for half an hour when Lorenzo rushed in.
“Where is she? Is she going to be all right? Did she—”
His gasp of pain when Wilhelm punched him in the
stomach was the most beautiful sound.
“Where were you?” he growled. He had to struggle with
himself not to punch Lorenzo again.
“The battle just ended, I couldn't get here—”
“Where were you when a lance was thrust into your
charge?”
Lorenzo's head snapped up and his features darkened.
“She didn't want me anywhere near her! What was I supposed to do?”
“Keep her safe.” Wilhelm's words were ice. “I don't
care about your excuses. I don't care that she didn't want you there. All I
know is that you have a job to do, and if it takes lying to do it, then for
heaven's sake
lie
!”
With a frustrated shout Lorenzo turned away, fingers
raking his hair furiously.
“I won't tell her I love her. You can't ask me to do
that.”
“Why not?” Wilhelm snapped. “It's true.”
Lorenzo started laughing, the sound on the edge of
hysteria, but he stopped abruptly and whirled back toward Wilhelm. There was a
new light in his widening eyes, and Wilhelm didn't like it at all.
“I get it,” he said, sounding as though he had just
come across a surprising revelation. “You're not upset because I won't tell her
I love her. You're upset because
she
said she loves
me
.” His
laughter now was mocking. “You're jealous!”
Wilhelm shook his head, but it didn't stop Lorenzo.
“Why don't
you
tell her you love her?”
“Don't be ridiculous,” Wilhelm scoffed. “Vampires
can't love.”
* * * *
I've heard that phrase so often over the years that
it has lost all meaning as far as I'm concerned. It's true that all vamps are
taught they can't love; it's usually one of their first lessons. It was one of
mine. But it's also one of the biggest myths that surround us, one that scares
humans a little; if we can't love, then we have to be more different from them
than we look, and if we are, then what else are we hiding?
When I woke up after the surgery, the first thing I
remember was a scent. Roses. I opened my eyes and they were there, on a table
just by my head. White roses. Even in the glaring hospital light they were
beautiful, and if I had ever thought that white roses were unlucky, I stopped believing
it at that moment. There was an envelope propped against the vase and I tried
to reach for it. That small movement awakened pain in my entire body and I
cried out. The next second, a nurse rushed in.
“Don't try moving,” she advised me at once, and
came to look at whatever machines were hooked up to me. On her way, she frowned
at the roses. “I don't know who was insensitive enough to bring these. I'll
take them away as soon as I'm done here.”
“No.” My throat was parched but I pushed the words
out anyway. “I like them. Can you give me the note?”
“No. I told you not to move. But I'll read it to
you.”
The note wasn't signed, but of course I knew who
had written it. All it said was, “Never scare me like that again.” Will is a
true poet, sometimes.
I kept expecting him to visit me, kept remembering
his hand in mine and his voice promising I'd be okay. But he didn't come, not
for the entire time I was in the hospital. That was just one more thing for me
to yell about when I saw him next.
A doctor came in, sat down with me, broke the news
that I'd never be able to have children. I just stared at her when she was done
and wondered how to tell her that I had never wanted to have any to begin with.
All I could think when she left me alone was that Will would have understood.
Better than anyone else, I thought, he knew how much the Guard meant to me. It
was more than a career, it was my life. If the doctor had said I'd never fight
again, then I would have had reasons to be upset.
When Lorenzo walked in, the first thing I felt—the
only thing I felt—was guilt. Because I had thought about Will since waking up,
enough to wonder where he was and when he would come to see me, but I hadn't
given a single thought to the man who had been my boyfriend for the past four years.
He pulled a chair and sat down next to me.
“I need to tell you something. Something very
important. When I arrived in this town, I had nothing. My clan was in tatters,
our Sire was dead, and we didn't know where to go or what to do. Will came to
us, gave us a choice. Gave me a purpose. Protecting you.”
I would have stopped him, then, but he didn't let
me. He just kept talking, as though he needed to get it all out. He probably
did, I suppose.
“It was just a job at first and then we started
talking, and you taught me to fight better, and I began to… care. I felt
something I hadn’t felt since I was turned, something I thought I could never
feel again. Something I wasn’t supposed to feel. And it stopped to be a job.
It became just natural to protect you, like you protected me. And today on the
field, I felt… naked without you at my back, and seeing you lying there, hurt
and bleeding… it was like dying all over again, except more painful this time.”
When long minutes passed and I still hadn’t said a
word, he stood. Truth is, I didn't know what to say. What do you say to someone
who tells you the past four years have been based on a lie? What are you even
supposed to feel?
“I understand,” he said. He was smiling, but it was
the saddest smile he had ever given me. “I'll let you rest, now.”
I caught his hand as he walked by. Moving hurt my
abdomen, and I gasped. He looked back at me.
“It hurts.” There were tears in my voice. I always
hated crying so much.
“I'll get the nurse.”
“No, that's not… What you just said… that hurts. I
thought you…” He didn't want to say love, so I wasn't going to either. “…cared
about me from the start. I did.”
“Not from the start, maybe. Not like that. But now
I do, more than I should.”
I squeezed his hand. “So do I.”
I was in the hospital for three weeks. Lorenzo
practically moved in with me. He went to fight at night, of course, but he
always came back to me. The nurses complained but in the end they gave up. He
slept in my bed during the day, curled up against me, always so very careful
not to hurt me. I spent my time stroking his hair and thinking. It took me time
but I decided during these three, long weeks, that words only have the value
you attach to them, and that I could live without being told I was loved. I
knew I was.
When I got out of the hospital, my first stop was
at Will’s office.