Blood of Stars and Gods Page 13

  He moves to stand in front of me, leaning down near my face. “Turned, Caitriona.” His voice is low, and he parts his lips so I can barely see the fangs drop at the snick they make, startling me less than expected, everything about Dante compels me closer, but I refuse. With a second snick, his fangs disappear, and he turns to walk toward the dresser, the remaining leaves falling to the floor. “Valoin is a vampire unlike most vampires. Somewhere within his lineage there was once a Mage. Just as vampirism amplifies all other abilities: strength, hearing, sight, taste, smell, it did the same to the small amount of Mage magick passed down in Valoin’s legacy. However, to grow stronger, he had to seek out a full Mage, a dark Mage, draining him or her, ingesting the source of their magick so it bound to the traces of his own, hence ‘Blood Mage’. They are unnatural, not meant to exist, a being with power they were not destined to wield.”

  “And Z has no idea about this at all?” This seems entirely too hard to believe.

  “I have no doubt he holds some level of awareness but believes he can control the matter, or that Valoin has not changed enough from the brother Z knew, that he could not be a danger to him. The truth is simple. Once a Blood Mage wields power of any level, they want more. Oracles have little power on the scale of magick, truth be told, so they are of little interest to him. Any Mage he drains earns him greater power.” Dante faces me again, gesturing between the two of us. “You and I … he could drain a thousand Mages and never touch what power lies within our blood, but as the original vampire, I’m immune to the effects of blood magick. That left you as the most available target, but clearly, Valoin is intelligent. Feed from you to gain some power, nearly kill you while you’ve yet to fully transform, and—”

  “You would save me. I’d have your blood in me too when he comes after me again.” The words barely find my voice to escape my mouth.

  “Yes. However, I can put an end to this, Caitriona. Theo cannot properly marry you until the transformation completes, but I can. Through such a bond, my power would tie with yours, resulting in a combined magnitude perhaps far greater than my own mother. That small nosebleed Valoin caused when he sensed your presence as Jai and Agtos sought information …” Dante laughs a small derisive laugh, chilling and dark in its sound. “Without touching him, however far he may be, the same simple ritual they used would allow you to send such a surge backward he would bleed from every pore of his body until nothing remained inside.”

  A shiver runs down my spine when I dare to meet his eyes once more. “Have you told Theo or any of them?”

  He shakes his head, swallowing hard before answering. “I’ve put much thought into this matter, great consideration into the choices we have, the options available, and I am unsure it is best they know of this.”

  “Why did you tell me?” I ask quietly, just as unsure if I want to know.

  “I earned your wrath once already by choosing not to be forthcoming in a matter involving you and choices you must make. If I wish to be anything meaningful to you, Caitriona, even if that be only a friend, I shall make every effort to respect your wishes.” In his eyes, I see more than simple honesty and an attempt to repair a damaged friendship. Those brilliant blue eyes read like open books of loyalty, devotion, and a love that knows no bounds.

  “Keep this between us, Dante.” I hate that I say it the second I do, but it’s for the best. “You know what will happen if they find out.”

  “There is no sacrifice too great to a dragon when protecting his ward. Theo would forgo any possibility of regaining his own happiness if he could guarantee with absolute surety no harm would come to you.” He speaks softly but unflinching in his honesty. “You wish the decision to be yours.”

  “Can you accept that?”

  “I can respect that your decision to be with me must be your own. Theo refusing to try in order to keep you safe negates your part in the decision. The difficulty lies in accepting your decision to be with me would not be weighted by the measure of love I desire of you.”

  Finding my feet, I walk over to him, taking his hand, watching the way he closes his eyes, soaking in the sensation. “I don’t think that’s true. Didn’t I love you? I mean, you couldn’t have done this to me if I felt nothing, right?”

  He holds his other hand over our joined hands, pulling it to his lips, tenderly kissing my fingers before opening his eyes. “You loved me, but you were in love with my dearest friend. When you chose him, I did everything in my power to let you go. I knew then what I could do, what influence my blood could have, that I could have you if I wanted. I could take you. I could make you mine, but I didn’t. I wouldn’t. Now you ask me …” His voice trails off, eyes dampened by a few tears that trail down his cheeks.

  “I know.” It’s all I can say. I’m not sure if I do know. Not even a fraction of a degree do I feel like I know anything. “Just promise me, if I ask you to do it, you will. Without hesitation.”

  Dante pulls me to him and wraps his arms around me, not holding back the flood of emotions anymore. “Be it the most selfless or selfish act I shall ever commit, I promise.”

  Chapter 12

  *Theo*

  “As I said, if she remembers anything, go for it.” Claaron winks suggestively, and I shake my head. “We all know you could make her scream your name like nobody’s business, Theo. I’d wager my weight in diamonds that would jog her memory.”

  “Nobody’s business. Exactly, Claaron.” I remove the cork from the wine bottle, preparing a glass for Cait, setting it next to the wine glass of water for myself. “You are to ensure we are not interrupted. This is a private matter.” Placing my GoSky on the SkySound speakers borrowed from Runa, I cue the desired song. “Unless the interruption should be a matter of life or death, surely expect a harsh penalty to anyone entering this building.”

  “I certainly hope the matter becomes quite private indeed, though if that part of her has not changed, I have no doubt we will all hear confirmation.” He turns to the door, prepared to leave me alone to wait for her, stopping at the door. “Good luck, Theo. We all hope this works.”

  Exhaling steadily, I begin removing my boots, feeling the warm tiles under my bare feet. “As do I. Thank you for your assistance. … Everyone.”

  He opens the door, a rush of cool November air blowing into the nearly empty hothouse, only a few tables of plants at the far end of the Gilroy’s newest building. “Everyone holds much at stake in the outcome of your wooing Cait.”

  With Claaron gone, I wait, though I do not have long to consider potential outcomes before I hear her, talking with Runa as they walk to the door. I tap my GoSky to begin playing, grinning at the sight of her stepping in alone, Runa closing the door behind her and leaving.

  “Hi.” Cait greets me with a nervous smile on her face, as if it were a first date perhaps. I suppose it is in some way. “It’s warm in here.”

  “I thought you would appreciate that. Not all of us are naturally hot.” She fights a smirk at that remark, slipping out of the borrowed jacket, revealing the dress from Runa, dark blue, neckline cut low, baring ample cleavage, form fitting to the waist, flaring out to her thighs, the tiny straps at the shoulders barely worth mentioning. “She found something for you to wear.” Runa could not know how perfectly she chose, reminding me of that night in the kitchen, the nightgown Cait wore, midnight blue silk, nothing beneath it, and our reconnection.

  We were everything to one another that night. We needed and wanted everything from one another that night. I feel no differently on this night.

  “It seems I’m overdressed, though.” Cait eyes me, taking in the sight before her, head to toe, missing no detail. “Barefoot, worn blue jeans, and a Blue Oyster Cult … why does that seem so familiar? I know I’ve seen that before.”

  “Yes. Yes, Cait, you have.” I reach to take her hand, tugging her toward me. “You teased me relentlessly about this shirt, about my penchant for old rock band t-shirts in general. I became so frustrated with you I simply took it off.” H
er lips part, breath sharp and shallow as I pull it over my head. “Then I played this song, my favorite of theirs. I told you I felt there had never been a home for me until you, Cait. Not until my heart burned for you and you alone.”

  “And I told you it was rather ironic a dragon’s favorite song would be about burning. Right? I did, didn’t I?” It is both question and statement, the expression on her face declaring how badly she needs it to be true.

  A surge of relief runs through me to know such things could surface, tiny memories, seemingly insignificant to anyone but us. “You did, and I admitted that was, in part, the draw to the particular song. I love that it rather reeks of irony given who I am, what I am.” I cannot keep my eyes off her, hearing her pulse racing, smelling the lavender in her hair. “But discussing ironic taste in music is not why I wished you to come meet me here. I hoped to open the doorway to memories we may recover and new ones we may create. Shall we?” Handing her the glass of wine, I take the water. “A toast to second chances, the opportunity to erase regrets.”

  She smiles as she drinks a small sip, the crimson liquid faintly tinting her full lips. “What?” Cait asks, gazing up at me with wide blue eyes. “Is there something on your mind, something you regret?”

  “Yes.” Now is not the time for foolish pride or vanity. Only honesty could bring my Cait back to me. “Do you remember the charity gala?”

  “For the Gilroy House? Yeah. I went with Dante. I’m sure of that. I think. I remember him being an excellent dancer.”

  “You did, and he was.” Damn Dante and his unintentionally smooth way with women, of course, she remembers that.

  Cait grows silent, her eyes falling to the floor. “But I wanted to dance with you. I don’t know why, but you wouldn’t.”

  Taking her glass, I set them aside, gently touching her chin to raise her eyes to mine again. “I regret not doing so, Cait. You wanted me to. I wanted it as well. For reasons I can no longer begin to explain, I felt justified that I not. Now, I have a second chance. We have a second chance. Slip off your shoes.” She does as I request, and I find the other song I intended to play tonight. “However, I believe I am quite grateful my opportunity to dance with you such is without audience, as it gives me no reason to withhold my desire to indulge in this moment, to make this memory unforgettable.”

  Tapping play for this new song, her eyes light up immediately, a smile spreading across her face. “A tango, Theo? How … unexpected.” The breathless sound of her voice tells of excitement and desire matching my own.

  I say nothing in return, taking one hand in mine, sliding my other down low on her hip, no concern for proper form, and pull her to my body. She molds to me just as I knew she would had we danced that night, no one able to deny we belong together with every movement. Cait follows my lead easily, eyes never leaving mine, the connection too intense to release either of us.

  With a smooth step to the side, she moves elegantly, flowing with the music, our feet finding the rhythm as if this were a practiced routine, a gentle lift, spinning her around fully, her toes touching the tiles again and gliding back into sync with my steps, no fluidity lost. A couple long, quick steps, and I turn her from me, running my fingertips along her skin, finding my way to her neck, leading Cait forward sensually, the slow beats of the music pacing my fingers as they stroke her tenderly.

  It is an act of making love to my Cait, to dance with her, touching her. We move together, our feet, our bodies, and my hand continues its slow traverse down beyond her neck, daringly to her chest, feeling the racing beat of her heart under my palm as it glides between her breasts. Alone, there is no line of indecency to cross, no impropriety to concern ourselves with, no curious eyes, or gossiping whispers. Her breath catches when I reach the dip of her navel, but she does not hesitate in my lead, one hand gently pulling her to step across, and I move into position in front of her.

  Cait enjoys the chance to take some measure of control in the dance, one hand in mine, a hand to her hip, continuing to lead the steps we take, her free hand finding its way to my bare chest, moving lower with the hurry of a timid explorer, though there is nothing timid about my Cait. What seems a moment ago to me, nothing of my body was unknown to her. Now I want her to learn it again, remember, memorize it, never forget. She reaches the waist of my jeans, and I place my hand on hers, dropping low in my stance, and lifting her over my head, turning Cait to land facing me again.

  She smiles wickedly, and we continue to move, her hand on my shoulder, my arm around her petite body, holding her so close my fingers brush along the side of her breast. The lightest pull, and she lifts her leg, bending it to rest on my thigh as we lower to the tiled floor, an elegantly classic tango move, legs extended out behind us, face to face, lips nearly touching, slow, sensual, desire palpable and filling the air.

  Holding us this way, I stare into her eyes, recalling each moment I have looked at her since that very first moment, never considering, in all honesty, it could be the last, or she would look back at me after the time that has passed and see a near stranger. Unhurriedly, I raise us to stand once more. My eyes remain on her, keeping our movements simple and delicate, yet not forgoing the tiniest bit of sensuality shared.

  Attempting to alleviate my own nerves with a calming breath, I say the words I practiced in my mind, those I feel I must say and she must hear if we should have any hope of finding our way back. “I have loved you from the moment I laid eyes on you, Cait, before I knew what it was to love someone so truly, so deeply. … Yesterday, you asked why you loved me. I believe you loved me because no one knows you in the countless ways I do. No one can love you, hold you, protect you, yet leave your spirit free to fly the way I can—the way I have and will.”

  Her hand slowly finds its way from my bare shoulder to my neck, fingers in my hair. Gliding along her arm, I lean her back effortlessly, Cait’s intuitive grace lending to her rising on her toes. Lingeringly, I trail heated kisses from her chin down her neck, over the skin bared by the low neckline of the dress, teasingly nipping and circling my tongue between the swell of her breasts as I run my hand down her leg. Caressing her soft skin, approving perfectly of the way she extends her leg, angled as her body, Cait’s position allows me to continue along to her ankle and back down, lifting her easily into my arms, hand holding her inner thigh, other bracing across her chest, turning my Cait to meet her back to my chest.

  A small whimper escapes her, and she reaches her arms back to run her fingers through my hair, arching her back enticingly as I lower her feet back to the floor. My hands find her hips once more, continuing to lead her in this dance of seduction, the scent of her arousal growing as our hips and feet move together.

  “You were always my choice.” She whispers the words, and my heart nearly stops. “I told you so.”

  I turn her quickly to face me, stopping the dance, the music continuing on without us. “You remember?” It is a question and a pleading hope, a need.

  “Some.” Cait rests her hands on my chest, grazing her fingernails over my skin as she’s done many times before, an absentminded action, reflexive, a habit I’ve grown used to and love. “I felt rejected by you, though I can’t remember all the details why. It was why I was with Dante. I was going to marry him because I was sure you didn’t want me. But that night, in the kitchen, when I wore the dark blue silk nightgown …” She looks down at her dress. “A lot like this. I told you. I never wanted Dante the way I wanted you, Theo.”

  I lean down to kiss her cheek gently. “That is what you kept telling me. I still find it difficult to believe you could ever find me so deserving of your desires, of your love, Cait.”

  Her hand runs through my hair, coming to hold my face tenderly, and I never want to lose this moment. “I do remember wanting you, Theo. I remember choosing.” She pauses, and the tears in her eyes make my heart break again before she speaks, fearing I know what she will say. “But as much as something in me knows I loved you, I don’t feel it.”

  M
y own hands find her face, pulling her closer, my voice faltering on the words. “You … nothing? You still feel nothing?”

  “Confused. Confused about how I can know I loved you, know I belong with you but can’t find that. I don’t know how you lose something like that.”

  Breathing in her scent, I try to stay calm. “The blood of a god. Yet I swear in the name of the Goddess and all that is divine, all that I am, I will not let you go, Cait. We will find our way back to one another.”

  “Theo, no matter what happens, never forget that you were always my choice, always the one I wanted. Never let blood or anything take that away from you.” Cait’s arms slip around my neck, pulling me to her, and despite the eerie caution in her words, I give in, passionately tasting her tongue on mine, lifting her into my arms, feeling her legs wrap around my waist, the cool of Cait’s body once again pressed to my heated skin.

  My Cait. So close, yet so far away.

  ***

  “There must be some particular reason your Second-in-Command and your Tactical Advisor were not called into this meeting, Theo. Do you intend to share, or continue folding paper into flowers and what-not, pretending nothing is amiss?”

  “Roses, Oliver. They are roses,” I correct. “How many times must I tell you this, brother?”

  “Is that an edge of frustration I detect in your tone?” He sighs heavily, watching out the window of Evan’s home office as he sits across from me. “Something weighs on your mind?”

  “Cait.” Crushing the fourth rose I find myself failing to execute with any expertise, I toss it into the rubbish bin and push away from the desk, pacing the few steps to the back wall. “She remembers so much, Oliver. She remembered tiny details I did not dare to hope she would.” I cover my face, turning my back to him, not wishing anyone to see the pain I carry, pain breaking the strength my brother’s need of me. “Cait knows she wanted me, not Dante. She knows the choice she made.”