Part 28 (1/2)
He took three ragged breaths. He shook his head, convulsively. But she could feel the Companion in his veins rise a little and increase the pace of his vibrations. Yes, she thought, take over for him. You know what to do.
He fastened his blistered lips on her wrist with a growl. She smiled and closed her eyes.
Kate watched Gian sleep, fascinated. It was almost imperceptible, but his burns were healing. She had saved him pain.
She loved this man, even if he could not love her in return. She treasured his contradictions: selflessness all wrapped up in arrogance, his courage and his cowardice. And they were so alike; both allowing their past to circ.u.mscribe their future...
That did not mean there was any escaping who they were. There were no choices.
The sun sank below the horizon. And the pain was gone. Gian opened his eyes, and his gaze met Kate's. Her blue eyes were clear and true. She had been watching him sleep. And the feeling that he belonged with her was so strong it made his stomach clench.
”Thank you,” he said. It was so inadequate. What other woman would have gouged her own wrist and let him suck her blood just to spare him pain?
She smiled. And the smile was tender. ”You're welcome.”
He pushed himself up, trying to ignore that smile. ”We'll stay here until you are fully recovered. Then the villagers can direct us to the next oasis.”
A look of tristesse pa.s.sed over her face and was quickly suppressed. She smiled again, but this time it was rueful. ”As you will.”
The horse had survived against all odds. A few days of hay and water, and he was, if not as good as new, as good as she and Gian were. Gian had paid the villagers for their kindness with gold coins he produced from the seams of his burnoose where they had apparently been sewn.
Now the rock-strewn plateau again stretched out before them under a waning moon. That seemed fitting. The whole world seemed like it was waning to Kate. They walked. Gian led the horse. The villagers had sworn they could reach the next water hole before the dawn, and sure enough, in the distance huts rose in rectangular contrast to the rocks and the flat desert, the soft- looking fronds of date palms caressing their angles.Kate existed in some kind of dream state. Her thoughts, hovering around her, napped like vultures. Living in a village away from everyone suddenly seemed the last thing she wanted to do. She would miss the new cities, the excitement of duping a whole roomful of marks. No, even that was tame compared to saving the world-at the very least the whole of France. And she would miss Gian Urbano. How could she have ever guessed she would be here, with him, at the spine of the world?
The warring halves of her had stopped their debate, exhausted. She accepted that the world was not as she had always thought it. It held more things unseen than she had ever imagined. And she, who thought she was not special, was perhaps unique among humans. Were all the other things she had believed equally wrong?
The thought seemed to wind around her spine. She believed she controlled her own destiny, that she was invulnerable to the scorn of those around her, that people were inherently selfish, doing wrong at every turn either from malice or ignorance. But those things were wholly wrong. Gian did not do things from malice or ignorance. He was not selfish at all. And as for her? Her past controlled her. Her fear of being abandoned directed her every reaction. And the feeling that those around her held her in contempt, whether because of her background, or her scar, quite ruled her life. She found that contemptible.
She had never believed in love either. But that did not prevent her from loving Gian. It had happened against her will.
She was glad. He couldn't love her in return, of course. But... but her life was richer for having loved him. She had to tell him.
She had to thank him before they parted. At least that.
”Gian.” The word was out of her mouth before she could stop it.
He turned. Concern was written on his features. ”Kate?”
What was she thinking? How could she expose herself to ridicule like that? He'd leave if she said it. But it was Gian. And she trusted Gian. He knew everything about her. Whatever he felt for her or didn't feel, he didn't despise or ridicule her. And he would leave anyway. So it didn't matter. He couldn't go without knowing. ”I... I must thank you.”
”It was nothing.” His expression flattened itself, unreadable.
”I don't mean for carrying me across the desert. Perhaps I should mean that, but I don't.”
He looked... wary. He should. She was about to create another barrier between them. Women had been prostrating themselves before him for centuries. He surely wouldn't want to hear protestations of love from a charlatan tramp with a scarred face. She should just motion him forward. How could she say anything anyway with the lump in her throat?
But this was something she had to do. She had to share with the person she knew best in the world her realization that what she believed about life before was wrong. ”I... I hadn't felt... anything for... for a man, before I met you.” She shook her head, disgusted with herself. Her resolve seeped away. ”Women must say that to you all the time. How... ba.n.a.l of me. I shouldn't have...” She trailed off, unable to continue.
He had frozen. ”Women wouldn't say that if they knew what I was.”
What? She wagered women didn't care that he had had a thousand other women. Oh, he meant the vampire part. Probably true.
She shrugged. ”n.o.body is perfect.”
He examined her as though his life depended on it. Which it didn't. Because he lived forever. They were totally unlike, different species. He cleared his throat. ”You are the only one who has ever known what I was, not only that I am vampire, but... but all of me. Do you... ?”
She frowned. Different species. There was no getting around that. ”Do I what?”
”Do you think... you might... might want to spend some time with me even so?” She realized she had been staring him straight in the face, just like she wasn't scarred. But she was. She looked down. ”You don't want someone like me.”
”I do.” He swallowed. ”I do. I love you, Kate.” He was standing there, wavering in the middle of the wide, rocky plane with a waning moon arcing up from behind the stony peaks of the Middle Atlas range behind him. She was so shocked she could say nothing. He loved her?
When she said nothing, his words began to tumble out. ”I know you could never love someone you must consider a monster. I understand that completely. And it would be too much to ask to be more than... than an acquaintance.” His gaze bounced from her, to the sand, the stars. ”If you would but let me see that you are happy, perhaps allow me to visit you on occasion, I promise never to opportune you for more.”
He loved her? She couldn't seem to make out the meaning of the words. He couldn't love her. Not with her scar. Her fingers crept to her cheek.
He covered the distance between them in two strides. ”Don't even think of that.” He took her in his arms. As she was pressed against the muscles in his chest, the exotic fragrance of cinnamon and something else coursed through her. ”I haven't even noticed it since the first days. I want you. Not for forever, I understand that. But... if you think you could bear... my companions.h.i.+p...
for even a few years, I would be so grateful.”
This was so far from the arrogant man she had come to know that she wasn't sure whether to laugh or cry. He loved her. The thump of his heart against her scarred cheek was strong and sure. And he had said that first day in the carriage that he never told women he loved them when he didn't. He prided himself on that. So, whatever emotion was really coursing through him, he at least believed it was love. That thought frightened her immensely. Because it meant she had to choose.
Her mind raced. He was saying he would leave her even now. ”... a few years.” But of course. She believed that, expected that.
Hadn't she come back to Firenze to wait for him, hoping to get a month with him? No more... She could expect no more...
From out of nowhere an image of Ian Rufford and his wife Beth rose in her mind, the loving looks they saved for each other, the calm way they accepted their condition.
She blinked.
He held her away from his body, his brows creased in worry. He was expecting an answer from her. He was expecting rejection.
She looked into his clear, green eyes, and rebellion rose in her heart, anger even, at him for his expectations, at herself for hers.
d.a.m.n it all to b.l.o.o.d.y h.e.l.l. They were both stupid enough to let their past dictate their future. They would doom themselves to unhappiness just because they couldn't get around their history. She'd never forgive her parents for abandoning her. But if she never opened herself up to the possibility of abandonment, she'd deny herself any hope of being close to another human being.
And humans needed that. She needed that in order to be whole. She had been half a person all her life. G.o.d, did she have the courage for this? Did he? But she couldn't control him. She could only decide what she would do. She'd always prided herself on her courage. Then get it out and use it for something worthwhile, for once.
She took a breath. He had her by her upper arms. The pain in his expression hurt her. She was about to give him more pain, along with an extra measure for herself, probably. They couldn't stay together. She was inviting everything she feared most.
But risking the pain of abandonment was the lesser of two evils.
She swallowed. ”I love you. I never thought I could love anybody, but I love you.”
His eyes widened. He searched her face even more intensely.
”It's hard for me to think you want me in spite of the scar.” He started to protest, but she put a finger to his lips. ”It's hard not to let my fear you'll leave me keep me from running away. But I have to try. You see, I don't want an acquaintance. I want a lover.