Authors: Multiple
"God has
not damned vampires after all." Church's dark blue eyes glittered with
intensity.
"What do
you mean?" Trinity and Baptiste spoke at once.
"Companions,"
Christian/ responded with awe.
Church nodded
with his gaze narrowing as he turned it to each of them. "What is before
us we
must
admit."
Trinity looked
between Christian and Church not understanding.
"God makes
counterparts of the soul and spirit for us all," Christian paused.
"Even those that appeared damned."
Christian's
words were compelling as always and Trinity nearly leaped to an age-old
argument between them. Could there even be a God that allowed such thing as
vampires to exist? He ground his fangs shut with his bared chest heaving as he
clenched his fists. Just thinking the words "his wife" filled him
with purpose, strength,
and
rightness.
"If you
thought you had trouble keeping control, this will test every ounce of
willpower you possess," Baptist stated flatly.
"But you
did control it," Church reminded them, with conviction so deep it
resounded in all of them.
"I
did," Baptiste replied. "Although I've not been tested to the point
I've seen Trinity has."
"I
will
control it," Trinity growled. "Now," he finished. Now that he
was beginning to understand.
"Stay
blooded," Baptiste advised. "More than you think you need, more
often."
Trinity nodded,
shaking out his shirt, and asking Baptiste, "What are you going to do,
brother?"
He watched
Baptiste take a forced breath, as he said, "Find a way to make her
mine." Baptiste added, "Watch you for guidance."
"Will you
turn her … turn them?" Christian asked. He was their soul, but also plain
speaking.
Trinity began
putting on his wet shirt, as he said, "It would grieve me to take her
humanity. Yet I fear I already have."
"The
blood." Baptiste nodded in understanding. "I truly thought the
addiction would lessen and leave."
"Blood?"
both Church and Christian asked echoing each other.
Trinity began
tying his shirt closed, as he said, "Beth and Irene have both tasted our
blood, and they hunger for more."
Baptiste said,
"I've given my blood before to the poor feeder souls without this reaction.
It has to be this connection between us that makes them different."
Trinity reached
down and pushed the tail ends of his wet shirt into his trousers, as Christian
clasped his shoulder asking, "What will you do?"
"I don't
think I have a choice. I need to convince my wife to love me, or I will live in
agony the rest of my life, where you'll probably have to cage me against this
possessiveness I feel."
Church whistled
with the sounds of "what an enormous undertaking," then he added with
a huff, "Seems as if I'm going to have to do the blasted ball by
myself."
Trinity faced
him. "This is why you wanted Beth in London?" Church nodded, looking
aggravated, and Trinity said, "I'm sorry, brother."
He meant to say
so much more, but he knew Church knew that as they embraced.
Chapter Nineteen
The day after
her wedding, when the darker fingers of dusk had just begun stretching across
the olive-shaded moors, Beth stood on the expansive back lawns at Crescent Moor
estate. Earlier, she was drawn outside after trying to eat and failing, only
managing a few small bites. The Blacknall servants had treated her like
royalty. Her every need was catered to, until she felt uncomfortable, simply
because she wasn't used to such indulgences on her behalf. They'd not missed a
step since she'd arrived unexpectedly.
In fact, Maven,
the estate's housekeeper, said they were used to the Lords of Blacknall
arriving individually or together without warning. Beth did notice, however,
that Maven could not hide her surprise at Beth's claim to be married to one of
the Lords of Blacknall. Maven had asked her twice and it had taken the carriage
driver calling her Countess Montrose before Maven's lips had ceased pursing and
she'd become welcoming.
In the near dusk
out on the edge of the moors, Beth wore a serviceable dark blue linen gown
she'd been able to purchase on one of the stops before reaching Crescent Moor.
Now she had two gowns to move between and not much else. The shawl she wore was
borrowed from Maven and her shoes … well, she still wore the slippers she'd had
on for the ball.
She glanced down
at her wet slippers. They weren't very useful outdoors, but she wouldn't let
her lack of proper shoes hold back her need to experience the beauty of the
fells and heaths. She'd never had a chance to travel, and the vista before her
snatched her breath away. A gentle wind tugged her skirts and moved the tall
grasses like softly moving seas across the moorlands. She would have to find
shoes soon so that she could wander and perhaps exorcise the wildness she felt
inside her.
Trinity,
Trinity.
"Damn
him," she exclaimed, beating a fist against her thigh, trying to rid her
continuous thoughts of him. "Leave me alone." She uttered each word,
turning toward the east as though to wring him from her soul.
"Trinity!"
She gasped,
feeling as if someone had punched her, and she might be seeing a hallucination.
She clenched her eyes closed, and then opened them again. Trinity, her husband,
still stood there, not five steps from her.
His
dark-streaked blonde hair hung loose in a chopped mass to his shoulders. His
chin was shadowed with the beginning of a beard and his irises, which went from
blue to black in her memory, were startling and intense dark sapphire. His
clothing looked disheveled and he had no jacket on. She remembered she had his
jacket and she could hardly believe he'd not replaced it within the amount of
time they'd been apart.
She looked at
the moors, then she looked back at him in the dwindling twilight. "Are you
really here?" She barely breathed. Her words seemed to break some type of
command he was held to, because he started to walk slowly toward her.
She should have
cried out asking him why he was there. She might have even thought of running,
but the look on his features held her suspended. He looked powerful, as though
some dominating purpose was upon him, and the painful truth inside her was she
didn't want to run away.
She wanted
him.
The tension grew
taut between them. His boots stopped at her skirts and his gaze invaded hers.
She never saw his hand lifting when suddenly she sucked in a deep breath from
the feel of his fingers grasping her wrist. The tension snapped between them
and her breath seemed to come in short bursts.
"Trinity?"
she whispered the question, lost in his gaze.
His gaze turned,
loosening the tension, but not breaking it, and her arm lifted as he brought
her wrist to his lips. His dark eyes lingered on her pale wrist as he turned it
toward his mouth. Her breath held as his mouth lowered. At the last second, his
gaze lifted to hers as his lips pressed against the veins in her wrist.
She remembered
Fanton for an unsettled moment, but the thought scattered quickly beneath heady
seduction. Her entire body nearly craved for Trinity to take her blood, until
her lips parted with the thought to beg him for it as he looked at her, while
holding his mouth to her veins, silently tempting, but controlling himself.
Ever so slowly
in their trance, he lifted his lips from her wrist. Never breaking his gaze
from hers as his free hand clasped the side of her chin and neck. Her eyes
pleaded with him for what she could only imagine, while his gaze slid past hers
to her neck as he turned her chin with pressure from his fingers. Her breath
began to come in large gulps, lifting her chest and she felt rather than saw
the impression of his lips caressing the side of her throat.
A moan that
surprised and confused her slipped from her mouth. Trinity's lip stilled at the
sound; his entire body seemed to harden. She didn't dare move besides the pounding
of her heartbeat, as pressures inside her body turned tight with aching.
Suddenly, his tongue slid slowly along her supplicated throat and she gasped,
clutching his shoulders.
"Beth."
His breath vibrated on her flesh and she knew the yearning aches building
inside her were womanly desires.
The touch of his
mouth left her and his fingers stopped clasping her chin. She felt his body
move and she turned her head to look up at him. He stood a pace away from her,
looking out into the deep glomming seeping upon the moors. Strands of his hair
fluttered in the breeze.
"This is a
witchy place," he said, looking out into the falling nightscape. He'd come
to her without her begging, she thought. She'd left him and left him the choice
… and he'd come to her wild yet tame, dark yet noble. "Vampires cannot
abide the scent of garlic." His voice sounded rough and he didn't turn his
gaze. "We cannot accept the touch of silver or holy water."
"Trinity,"
she whispered with a question on her breath.
His gaze turned
to hers, but he continued over her. "The blessed water, because we are
damned." He spoke without infliction. She wanted to raise her voice and
deny his claim of being damned, yet his deep tone persisted. "The only way
to kill me is by decapitating me. Any other harm, by sword, knife, pistol; any
injury on my body will be regenerated within days."
An exclamation
rose from her throat of strong disbelief, of denial. "How can that
be?" she exclaimed, and she began to turn away from him, but he grasped
her arms, halting her.
"Because I
am
a vampire." His words were forceful and laden with truth. "It's true,
maiden; I drink blood for food … nothing else. At times I am a monster."
"Do not say
that!" she cried, trying to break his hold, but he pulled her against his
unyielding, muscular body.
Trinity felt
every opulent curve of Beth's body pressed against him as he held her struggles
under control. He wanted the temptations of feeling her so he could strengthen
his willpower and prove he was in control of his beast. Yet he knew what a
fragile hold that was at times. Recent events irrevocably proved that to him.
So now he needed Beth to know all the risks and what safeguards he could share
with her, whether she wished to hear them or not, or whether she wished to
believe them or not. Nevertheless, he was amazed she was so vehemently against
him calling himself a monster. Something in what soul he possessed clenched,
then hoped she was right.
"I am
warning you, girl." His voice and face were fierce. "You have to help
me," he rasped, and her struggles suddenly lapsed at his plea for help.
Her small chin
rose. "I will listen and learn, Trinity. But do not call yourself a
monster again," she insisted.
He didn't agree
or disagree with her; he pressed on, "A wooden stake thrust into our
chests will slow us down, incapacitate many vampires for days. Only the
strongest vampire can be staked and keep moving."
"Strongest?"
she asked.
His hand lifted,
slowly caressing the side of her cheek. "For our purposes, I will have a
stake made that you can keep with you," he paused and made certain he had
her eye contact. "So that
you
can stake me, if I become
uncontrolled."
"Trinity,
no." She jerked against him. She brought her hands up to push on his
chest. "This is enough. I won't listen to this," she exclaimed.
"Let me go!" Trinity released Beth, watching her raise her hands to
her ears, shaking her head as she backed away from him. "No more,"
she said with tears coloring her words.
He turned his
back to her. Her words streamed through his mind. She beseeched him not to call
himself a monster. She was young, innocent, and he was cruel to press on her
such abhorrent realities. His gaze trailed back to her, and he saw that her
hands had fallen to her sides as tears sparkled on her cheeks.
"Why have you
come back to me?" she asked. Her voice was filled with hurt. "Was it
just to tell me these things? They have no meaning if we are not
together." Her eyes widened when she realized the implication of her
statement.
Feelings of
confusion and despair choked him. How could he accept them … together? He was
vampire; she was human. He had no right to think she would want to … but he
felt as if he couldn't survive without her now. At the same time, he feared the
beast inside him that claimed her as his. The burden and piercing ache lanced
through him as he slowly sank to his knees beneath the weight. He bowed.
"Trinity,"
Beth cried and he hardly dared believe she was there … kneeling beside him. He
felt her body embrace his desolate one. Her hand stroked back his hair.
"I'm so naive," she hissed. "I'll do better. I swear it. Please
let me help you." Her voice was fierce and he felt her lips brush his
jawbone. A shudder pitched through him.
"Something's
happened since our vows," he uttered. "I was determined to stay away
from you. For your own wellbeing. But, I … damnation," he cursed, his
fists clenched. "I can't."
"Trinity,
look at me." Her small hands pressed his face, relenting when he didn't
give in, then she pressed again. He turned his head toward her, his gaze no
higher than her blush-red lips. "I don't want you to." Her voice was
soft and alluring. "I don't want you to stay away from me."
His jaw tensed
with his voice a harsh rasp, "You don't understand the risks."
Her lips pressed
to his cheek and stayed, and her breath was hot, when she said, "Tell
me." His attention focused on the feel of her lips, but more intent on the
healthy plumpness of her breasts pressing into him. He could feel her heartbeat
through that touch. "I swear I won't be a coward anymore," she
whispered.
It was at that
moment he realized he wasn't alone in his desire. She felt something between
them also … higher than the unexplainable demand for his blood or his allure as
a vampire.
"Beth."
He turned toward her, pulling her against his chest to embrace her. His hand
found the thickness of her black hair pulled into a bun at her nape and his
fingers tunneled through it to find her skull. Her face turned up to his and he
guided it with his fingers at the back of her head as he lowered his mouth over
her lips. His arm wound strong across the back of her waist, pulling her tight
against his body as their lips fitted together. His fangs instantly wanted to
join the attraction, extending.
"Careful."
He pulled his mouth back.
"No,"
Beth exclaimed softly, grabbing his hair with fingers burrowed in the heavy
strands to pull his mouth back to hers "I feel them, Trinity." Her
lips pressed to his. "You'll be careful," she assured him with the
words spoken against his mouth.
The faith she
attributed to him was amazing and he instantly wanted to fulfill her trust. He
felt his resolve strengthen against the wildness he held contained. The heat of
their mouths warmed and grew hotter.