Her Last Words [The Pacts Series] Read online

  Leaning down to her neck, he caressed the curve with his lips, practically feeling her blood run so close beneath her skin. Having chosen his spot, he kissed it gently, and then bit down. Catarina cried out, in pain he was sure, but her arms tightened around him rather than push him away. He took long, deep pulls on her blood, feeling her heartbeat, so fast at first, slowly lose its force as he drained her.

  "They need to have a little life left in them when you give them your blood,” Gabrielle's voice echoed in his mind, and he reluctantly stopped sucking. He had never taken so much at one given time from a human, and the feeling was glorious.

  Catarina blinked, oh so slowly, when he sat up and tore into his own wrist. He held the back of her head as she drank a precious few mouthfuls, some of his blood spilling down the corner of her mouth.

  He cleaned the spill with a kiss after pulling back his wrist; her heart was so weak, it wouldn't be long, now.

  "Will you love me as much as you love her, when I am your Childe?"

  Catarina's words were almost inaudible, but as close to her as he was, Erik heard each of them. He stared in shock at her now closed eyes, wondering not how she knew, because she had proved to him, long before, how observant she could be, but rather why she had never mentioned before knowing that he still loved Gabrielle.

  Lying down next to her, he buried his face into the crook of her neck and held her close, taking in the heat that was slowly leaving her body. And for the first time—and the last one, he promised himself—he allowed himself to cry over the loss of his Sire.

  Chapter 18

  One second, Erik stood in the ruins of his destroyed lair. The next, he was lying down in a bed, a body pressed against his, disoriented and slightly nauseous. Slowly, his vision cleared and focused on the woman in his arms. All at once, he wanted to laugh and sob. He had never imagined that he would come back to his Childe's bed.

  She was still sleeping, and he caressed her face with a light finger, rediscovering her features after having come so close to forgetting them. Her eyelids fluttered under his touch, and he watched her open her eyes and look at him, a single word passing her lips.

  "Sire?"

  He couldn't suppress a quiet, delighted laugh at that, the first word he had heard in close to two centuries.

  "Yes, Childe. Drink."

  His own voice sounded strange to his own ears, and he briefly wondered if he would have time to get used to it again before he lost his hearing once more. Chasing the thought away, he offered his neck to Catarina, and she bit without hesitation. In the past he remembered, he had offered her his wrist. But he knew that in a few hours she would die, and it wouldn't change anything for him to offer her such a close connection at least once in her vampire existence.

  "I've missed you,” he murmured when she drew back, and offered her a small smile.

  Her eyes sparkled with amusement.

  "You've missed me?” she repeated. “Was I gone for that long?"

  Swallowing the lump in his throat, he held her closer to him and tried to keep smiling, to keep playing the act. “It felt like centuries."

  She kissed his neck right over the bite mark she had created, and Erik shivered. It was a ghost he was talking to, a ghost he was touching; he had to remember that. Nothing he could do would change it. Nothing he could do would save her, or any of the others.

  "I've got to go,” he mumbled, steeling his mind and body as he pushed away from her and stood. “Gabrielle called for an assembly right after sunset tonight, I'm probably late already."

  Sitting up, Catarina looked at him levelly, and he had the clear impression that she could see right through him, to what he wasn't saying, what he couldn't say.

  "I can't come, can I?” she asked coolly, and he shook his head.

  "Not now. She'll be mad at me when she realizes I sired a Childe. Better not to antagonize her before the battle."

  "I want to fight, though,” Catarina said after an instant. “Will you let me fight tonight?"

  Everything that Erik was, everything that he knew wanted to say no; but he knew that, in the end, nothing he did would change her fate. The Primal Forces would reach out and kill vampires all over the world. It didn't matter whether Catarina fought in the open or remained hidden; she would die before sunrise.

  "I will come for you as soon as I can,” he promised, and, giving her a last kiss, he walked out of her house and hurried back toward the lair. Toward more ghosts. More pain.

  Like a chant, he started whispering the five magic words, focusing on them and only them, as he slipped into the common room and took his place within the semi circle that was waiting for Gabrielle. Another of Gabrielle's oldest Childer, Sondra, standing across from him, threw him a questioning look and broke his focus. He could see her, here and now, head slightly tilted, the merest frown marring her features; yet he could see her as she would be in a few hours, her blood so dark it seemed black covering half her face from the crack in her skull, eyes open and unseeing.

  He couldn't help it then. He closed his eyes tight, shutting all of them, all of it out. Gabrielle's youngest Childe at his side and his worried inquiry whether everything was alright, the sudden quiet that fell on the room as all the members of the clan noticed that something was happening, and the hand closing on his shoulder and squeezing gradually until the pressure became pain.

  Physical pain, he could deal with; that, he could fight, unlike the hurt of seeing all these people who didn't know they would soon be dead. He tried to shrug the hand off, opening his eyes again when it did not let go.

  "Are you all right?” Gabrielle asked, her hold finally relenting. Standing in front of him, she was giving him a serious look, with none of her usual anger.

  Not all soon to be dead, and Erik clung to that idea. Not everyone here would die.

  Not everyone.

  He would still be alone in the end, but he would at least have fresh memories to sustain him.

  "I'm fine,” he lied. “Let's get on with it. The night isn't getting any younger."

  She threw him a strange glance, but didn't comment further before taking a few steps back and facing her Childer. Everybody already knew their role, but she nonetheless reviewed the plan, where each of them would be, and as names were called, Erik's gaze was drawn to familiar faces he had come close to forgetting. He tried to etch each of them in his mind; he would need their company in the next few hundred years, and memories were the best he would have.

  Eventually, his eyes returned to Gabrielle. She directed the meeting with her usual calm and strength, and even if he knew, oh so well, how wrong she was, he couldn't help admiring her confidence before the battle. Her awakening would be rude. Was it because of the shock that, in a few hours, she would fuck him senseless before leaving him to his solitude for a few decades?

  "Well, if everybody knows their role, time to get ready."

  Her Childer started flowing out of the room at Gabrielle's words, but Erik didn't move.

  "I need a word with the magic group,” he stated, his voice as cold and dead as he felt inside.

  There was some hesitation and seven of his fellow Childer remained behind. Being the oldest meant that they usually listened to what he had to say, even if they did whatever it was that Gabrielle wanted in the end. Gabrielle watched him, arms crossed and face inscrutable, but she didn't say a word.

  Finding a piece of parchment and ink, he scribbled down the five words he had learned so well before giving the note to Aurora, who was going to lead the magic ritual.

  "You need to add that to your incantation. Right at the end."

  Eyebrows rose as the note passed from hand to hand, until it was finally in Gabrielle's hands, who still hadn't said a word. By pure habit, Erik turned to watch Aurora's lips move.

  "Since when do you know anything about magic?” she asked, and Erik forgave her slightly snappish tone on account of the too many hours she had spent working on the spell they would use.

  "I know wh
at I know,” Erik said calmly, meeting her eyes. “And I know that if you don't add these words to your spell, it won't work."

  "And how do you know that, exactly?” Sondra asked, sounding puzzled but not entirely skeptical.

  "I just do,” he sighed. “Trust me."

  Only silence answered his words. Of course. Why would they believe him? He had claimed for weeks that this was the worse idea Gabrielle had ever had; he had even tried to talk a few of them into outright rebellion.

  "Is it likely to mess up the spell in any way?” Gabrielle asked when after a minute or so no one had replied.

  A few glances were exchanged, heads shaken, until the magically inclined Childer reached a unanimous conclusion.

  "It's very doubtful it will affect the ritual in any way, good or bad,” Aurora finally commented, taking the parchment from their Sire. “And after spending weeks on that incantation, I'm quite sure—"

  "Your ritual will fail,” Erik interrupted her.

  "And again, how do you know that?” she sneered. “Have you suddenly become a seer and didn't tell us?"

  An acid comment was on the tip of Erik's tongue, diplomacy be damned, but he didn't have time to voice it.

  "So, these extra words won't hurt the spell?” Gabrielle asked; her voice was too quiet, Erik thought, when so much was at stake.

  "They won't,” Aurora acquiesced, calmer now. “But they won't help either."

  "Humor me, then, would you? If it will stop Erik from being such a pain, it has to be worth it."

  There were barely suppressed laughs around the room, and Erik wasn't sure whether to scowl at Gabrielle or thank her for this ambiguous support; in doubt, he threw her an annoyed glare. He couldn't help but notice the affection reflected in his Sire's eyes as she observed Aurora and the other Childer.

  "Yes, Sire,” Aurora responded at last with a light bow.

  As they all left the room to get ready, Erik remained where he was, staring blankly at the empty room. Trapped in his most familiar nightmare, he could not escape. He had known it would be hard to see them all like this, but he had not realized how hard. He had not imagined either that it might be too hard for him to bear.

  "Come on, Childe,” Gabrielle's voice said from behind him, startling him. Caught in his own mind, he hadn't realized someone else was still in the room. He turned to look at her, but already she was walking away, throwing above her shoulder: “It'll be over soon."

  Repressing a bitter laugh at the idea that her words were far truer than she even knew, he went to collect his sword, then went to Catarina. He gave her a few instructions, and tried to stay close to her once the battle started, but, just like the first time, they were separated.

  And so, he fought. He had an eerie feeling that he was repeating the same gestures, the same blows, shouting the same encouragements as he had the first time. He cried out when the first of them fell from a demon's blow, but no more than he had back then. No less either, even though he had known it would happen. Then a screeching, mind-blowing noise seemed to rip the air, and his hearing disappeared with agonizing pain. The Primal Forces had just been freed. He was almost relieved not to be able to hear the moans of agony and despaired cries as vampires and demons were slaughtered all around him. Vision blurred by tears and blood, he simply kept fighting, hoping beyond hope that someone, something would change the course of history and put an end to his existence.

  Morning came and found him sobbing over Catarina's scorched body. The battle had been lost again, and the price, to him, was the same as it had been the first time around.

  Strong hands gripped his arms, helping him up, and Erik found himself looking into the dead eyes of Gabrielle. A flash of lightning lasting a little longer than the others showed him the tear tracks down her cheeks, and she seemed as ready to welcome the sunrise as Erik felt. Yet, she half supported, half dragged him toward the relative safety of their destroyed lair.

  Erik wanted to flee, remembering all too well what would happen next. But at the same time, he couldn't make himself shrug off the arm around him, couldn't escape Gabrielle's hold when he was pulled onto the older vampire's lap. Couldn't stop shaking.

  Gabrielle's blunt teeth against his neck weren't a surprise, but the soothing hand running up and down his back was. He didn't have to plead for a stronger connection; he soon felt the deliciously painful tearing of Gabrielle's fangs into his flesh, on the opposite side to where Catarina had bitten earlier. He wondered, briefly, if Gabrielle had noticed the other marks, but couldn't manage to care one way or the other.

  Fingers threaded through his blood-matted hair and pushed him forward into Gabrielle's neck. The gesture confused him for an instant, he did not remember things happening quite like that; but he took the hint anyway, biting down and taking what was offered. All thoughts disappeared, replaced by the glorious feeling of thick, powerful blood sliding down his throat.

  The shared offering lasted mere seconds—they had both lost too much blood already to be able to spare more. As they let go of each other, other instincts pushed forward, and by then Erik was too far gone to even remember this happening centuries earlier. Following her lead, he pulled at her clothes until she was as bare as he was. She was covered in scratches, and he kissed and licked each cut, each bruise, like she did to his own. When she pushed him down to lie on the floor, he obeyed her silent request, clutching her wrist as though a safe line. She straddled his thighs, but rather than taking him inside of her, she reached to his neck and caressed Catarina's marks. He kept his eyes on his Sire's face, his gaze slipping down to her lips as they started moving.

  "You turned her, didn't you?"

  "Yes."

  Her hand slid up his neck and to his cheek, where she wiped off a tear at the corner of his eye.

  "I know how much it hurts,” she said after a moment, the words slow on her lips. “I've lost Childer tonight, too."

  Before he could say anything, she started talking again. “It doesn't hurt as much as losing you did, though."

  He blinked, unsure whether he had understood her words correctly, unsure of what she could possibly mean by that. She didn't explain herself, at least not until after she had guided his cock to her core.

  "Want you so much,” she said then, the slow rising and lowering of her hips punctuating her words. “Been wanting you for so long. Need you. More than I can say. More than I know how to show."

  And each of these words was like balm soothing a raw wound. He had longed so much to hear such tender things from her; was this what he had not heard, the first time around? How could she say such things now, when in a few hours she would abandon him?

  "Sire—” he started, ready to beg if he had to, to make sure she wouldn't leave him alone again, but she didn't let him finish.

  "Gabrielle,” she said, shaking her head. “You're a Master, now. My equal."

  "Gabrielle,” he repeated, glad at that instant that he couldn't hear the undoubtedly pathetic tone in his own voice.

  She leaned down to press a hard, bruising kiss to his lips, and he responded by arching into her the next time she thrust down; the old dance, older than vampires and humans alike, truly started.

  But even as Erik steadily climbed toward his release and pushed Gabrielle toward hers, a feeling of dread returned to him, this awful certainty that, when they came, they would tell each other goodbye. Because of that, he tried to fight it, tried to deny himself the completion his body was screaming for. But Gabrielle made sure he came with her, along with a hoarse cry of despair.

  * * * *

  Erik was nothing if not stubborn.

  He knew night had fallen again, the day passed and gone as he slept curled against Gabrielle. He knew, because it had happened before, once in reality and so many times in his dreams, that when he opened his eyes he would be alone. So, he stubbornly refused to wake up. Instead, he kept his eyes tightly shut, and tried to think of nothing, no one. Maybe if he remained here long enough—

  An arm sna
ked around his waist, pulled him closer to another naked body. Startled, he opened wide eyes, and discovered a sad face he hadn't expected to see for a few decades. The ruins were dark, the lightning of the supernatural storm having abated, but there was enough ambient light for Erik to read the words forming on Gabrielle's blood-tinted lips.

  "I'm not leaving you. Not this time. Not ever again."

  The End

  About the Author:

  Kallysten is a French citizen whose most exciting accomplishment to date was to cross a few thousand miles and an ocean to pursue (and catch!) the love of her life. She has been writing for almost fifteen years, and always enjoyed sharing her stories and listening to the readers’ reactions. After playing with science fiction, short stories, poetry and fanfiction, she is now trying her hand, heart and words at paranormal romance novels.

  To see her other novels, visit:

  original.kallysten.net

  Other stories in The Pacts series available at Alinar Publishing:

  All Things Except Blood

  Vampire Eyrin lives in a world in which her kind seals pacts with humans and protects them from fearsome demons in exchange for blood. She is one of her clan's strongest fighters, until the night when she is gravely wounded, in both her flesh and spirit. Disfigured, she hides from all and refuses to feed.

  Returning to the lair, her human lover Ian is shocked to discover her condition but resolute to show her she is still as beautiful in his eyes. He offers her blood and comfort, causing Eyrin to do the one thing forbidden to Childer—take his life.

  When Ian awakens a vampire, sired not by her but by the clan's Master instead, Eyrin reluctantly takes on the task of teaching him about his new existence. But her guilt over killing him makes this responsibility a heavy burden for Eyrin, and the new relationship they forge is a far cry from the one they used to share. Will Ian be able to reach out for her again, or will she keep her door and heart locked to him?