Part 7 (1/2)
It had been two months-two months that he'd been trying to banish thoughts of his make- believe woman from his mind, but he'd only become more and more desperate to see her again.
Well, today, dammit, he would. If it were possible to find her again, find that place again, then he would. He stopped taking his pain meds, walked excessively and left his cane at home.
By the end of the day, Will's foot was screaming in unmitigated agony. He was damp with sweat, his entire body shaking with pain by the time he got back to the Manhattan condo his dear Uncle Sam had bought and paid for.
He went straight to the bedroom. The drapes were drawn, no lights on, and it was well past sundown. Now. Maybe now.
He fell onto the bed, closed his eyes and drew his mind as far away from the pain as he could. He'd been determined to let her go, to just get on with his life. But she haunted him. Her eyes. Her smile. Her hair.
Part of him was afraid that he might get trapped in his own fantasy-become so enmeshed that he spent the rest of his life in a mental ward somewhere, living only in his mind. But the craving for her, the need, only grew stronger. He had to see her again. And so he tried, just as he had tried a thousand times before.
Nothing. Nothing. Dammit to h.e.l.l!
Eyes still closed, he reached out for the cane that leaned against the headboard, where he always kept it. His hand closed around the cool sh.e.l.lac-coated oak, and he brought the cane around fast and hard, smas.h.i.+ng it into his bad foot.
Pain ripped a scream from his chest. He dropped the cane to the floor as fireworks went off in his brain. Mentally he skittered into the darkest corner of his mind and cowered there, where the pain couldn't reach.
And then he found her. He saw her eyes, gleaming in the darkness, and then he fell into them, into her world, or her past, or whatever the h.e.l.l this place was.
Sarafina.
She was sitting in a room, lit only by the glow coming from the dying fire in the hearth. It startled Will at first, that he could see the room so clearly in such dim light. The antique furniture looked new, and the oriental rug that covered the hardwood floor showed its vibrant reds and yellows as brightly as it would by full daylight. But then he reminded himself that he was seeing her, and everything around her, as she would. And she, apparently, could see quite clearly in the dark.
She felt stronger, more alive, than she ever had during his previous visits. But there was a hardness about her now that he'd never sensed before. He remembered her anguish on learning of her lover's betrayal, and that of her own sister, and he thought that might account for the change.
She sat in a velvet-covered chair, with a small, round three-legged table beside her. She wore full, flowing skirts of jewel-blue, a turquoise-colored satin blouse that bared her pale shoulders. Jewels dangled from her neck and her ears, and decorated every scarlet-tipped finger as she absently shuffled a deck of cards. Tiny silk slippers covered her feet. Her hair was long and loose, curling wildly around her shoulders.
”Sarafina, I'm here,” he whispered. ”Can you feel me?”
Sarafina frowned, a tiny furrow appearing between her full, dark brows. She turned her head to look about the room but saw only the man who had transformed her that night in the cave so long ago. Bartrone.
He sat in a chair much like hers, only larger, and placed closer to the fire. He didn't seem vibrant or alive, as she did. He seemed...tired. Exceedingly tired.
”Did you hear something just now?” she asked him.
He didn't answer but remained as he was, his shoulders slightly slumped, gaze turned inward as if he were deep in thought.
”Bartrone?”
His head came up slowly. ”Yes?”
”Did you hear anything just now?” He only stared blankly, and Sarafina finally shook her head in frustration. ”No, of course you didn't. You barely hear me. What is wrong with you, Bartrone?”
He shrugged. ”Do you know how old I am, my Gypsy love? Have I told you, in all the years you've been my companion?”
All the years? G.o.d, Will wondered just how many years it had been at this point.
She blinked slowly, searching her mind. ”You... no. I don't believe you have. Though I've asked many times.”
He sighed, seemed to think a long while before answering. ”You've heard of Babylon?”
Sarafina sat up a little straighter, widening her eyes. ”How could I not, with all the books you've made me read, all the lessons you've insisted I complete?”
”Immortality spent in ignorance is wasted.”
”So you've been telling me these past fifty years.”
Fifty years? That long? But she didn't look so much as a day older!
Bartrone nodded, drew a breath. ”I was born there.”
She blinked slowly. ”In Babylon?”
”The year of my birth, by the modern calendar, would have been seven hundred and one, before the Common Era.” He lifted his gaze to hers slowly. ”I am more than two thousand years old, my precious Sarafina. And I have come to understand that, in truth, there is no such thing as immortality.”
She stopped shuffling the cards, a larger deck than the modern ones Will had seen, and simply held them in her now-still hands. ”That's ridiculous, my darling. You yourself are the proof of it.”
”I'm afraid I am the opposite of that.” He lowered his head. ”I'm tired, Sarafina. Tired of never seeing the sunlight. Of killing in order to live.”
”Is it your conscience that's troubling you, then?” She got to her feet and went to him, leaning over his chair and running a hand through his long, dark hair. ”You kill only those who need killing, my love. How many times have you explained this to me? That we must kill in order to survive, but that we must never harm an innocent? Goodness knows there are criminals enough to sustain us. Abusers of children. Murderers.”
He nodded. ”We are natural predators, like the lion or the shark. But unlike them, we have a conscience and, I believe-though many others do not-a soul.” He heaved another heavy sigh.
”It is unnatural for a human to live forever, Sarafina.”
”We're not humans. We're vampires. It couldn't be more natural to us.”
”We're humans. We were born humans. This... this condition of ours is no more than an aberration. A curse, perhaps.”
She wanted to lash out at him for those words. Will felt the anger rise up in her. But she banked it, held it in check. And he realized suddenly all the things this man-this monster-had been to her over the years. A teacher, a mentor, a protector and guide, a companion and friend.
She loved him-not pa.s.sionately, but deeply.
”You've never believed these things before, Bartrone. You taught me to embrace my preternatural strength and power. To relish this life and all it offers.”
”I know, child, I know. But with age, comes wisdom. And a new knowledge has settled on my heart these past few months.”
”Wisdom, is it?” she snapped, nearing the edge of her temper. ”Or perhaps a simple case of melancholia?”
He drew a long, slow breath. ”I'm sorry I brought you into this life, Sarafina.” Lifting his hand, he touched her face. ”I need you to forgive me.”
Sarafina drew away from the cool touch of his palm on her cheek. ”Forgive you? Bartrone, you saved me from certain death. Already I was weakening with me symptoms of the illness. And had it not killed me, my faithless sister surely would have. She and my betrothed-plotting against me all along. You showed me the truth. You gave me the power to outlive them all. So don't ask me to forgive you. I can only thank you for the gift you gave to me.”
He smiled slowly, though the sadness he'd been describing still shadowed his eyes. ”So alive. Such a fiery thing you've become. Maybe for you it will be different. By G.o.d, I hope so, Sarafina. But for me...it's over.”
She stared at him, her entire body having gone still. ”What do you mean?”
”I've taught you well. You'll be fine on your own.”
”On my own? Bartrone, you are making very little sense. Perhaps you need to feed, or rest.” ”I've fed for the last time, Fina.” He glanced at the clock on the mantel, as its pendulum swung slowly back and forth. ”It's nearly dawn. I intend to see the sunrise today.”