Her Last Words [The Pacts Series] Read online

  Suddenly, the prospect of making that trip in time with a companion seemed very unlikely.

  * * * *

  Gabrielle laughed, a deep, unrestrained laugh that rang straight to Erik's heart like the most melodious music. He had no clue why his Sire was laughing, but did it really matter?

  Sliding his hands under her tunic, he pulled it up and off Gabrielle's shoulders, and took a second to let his eyes linger on the skin revealed to his gaze. Pale, smooth, but with faded, almost imperceptible scars that bore witness to centuries of fighting.

  Pushing Gabrielle down on the bed, Erik straddled her thighs and began tracing with his tongue and lips the marks he could find on the quivering body under him. One day, he would ask her to tell him how she had acquired each and every one of these marks during the time they had spent apart. He had missed so much; he wished he could have erased those too-long years.

  Unconsciously, he began rocking his hardening cock against the apex of Gabrielle's legs, enjoying the friction provided by the double layer of clothing between them, prolonging the anticipation of soon to come flesh to flesh. Gabrielle's hands were on his back, on his ass, rubbing, kneading, sending delightful shivers through him. He couldn't remember the last time he had been touched like this, had felt this much. Too long ago, certainly. Much too long.

  His rediscovery of the gorgeous body underneath him had led him downward, and as he placed tiny licks along the edge of Gabrielle's breeches he could feel her squirming beneath him. As his Sire, she had always felt uncomfortable being under him in any way, but more often than not he had been able to make her forget everything but her pleasure. He intended it to be the case this time too. A quick look up, a sugary word—"Please"—and Erik smiled to himself as he divested Gabrielle of what remained of her clothes. To have this strong, powerful woman at his mercy, trembling and pleading with need, was exhilarating, but not as delightful as that first broad swipe of his tongue against her folds. One hand resting on each of her thighs, he delved in deeper, encountering her wetness and humming in pleasure at the rediscovered taste. She was shivering under his touch, arching to urge him closer to her, and he complied easily, thrusting his tongue inside her as he longed to do with his cock, as he would do after he had seen her come for him first.

  When he had been sired, his amorous skills had been rather rudimentary, he could admit as much, but Gabrielle had taken that particular aspect of his education as seriously as she had all others. And Erik had quickly discovered that very few things were as thrilling as the power he could have on his Sire by taking her to the edge, and keeping her right there, ready and aching to come yet denied that last bit of pressure, that last touch that would bring it all to an end—for a time, at least.

  Now though, Erik wasn't trying to make things last through delicious torture. Licking, sucking, delicately nibbling on her clitoris, he did his best to make his Sire come, fast and hard. He couldn't wait to taste her again, and he put that desire into each swirl of his tongue, each careful touch of his fingers on Gabrielle's skin.

  He couldn't wait to make her come, and couldn't wait for everything else that would happen after she did.

  It had been a long time since they had last been together, but he sincerely hoped that not everything had been lost through these centuries apart. They had both changed, of course, and it would be different, necessarily, but deep down, they were still Gabrielle and Erik, and some things had to have remained the same. At the very least, Erik knew what his own feelings were, knew that he had been too lonely for too long, knew that he craved to have in his life a woman to love and live with.

  Knew, and had always known, that no one could ever replace Gabrielle in his heart.

  The question was ... Would she want him? She had chased him away, so long before. Would she want him back? Or was she here, in his bed, in his arms, simply for a moment, simply for the pleasure he could offer her?

  If anything, the thought increased his desire to pleasure her even more. Sliding a hand off her thigh, he thrust two fingers inside her at the same time as he barely brushed the tip of a fang to her engorged clit. Her body convulsed instantly, and her voice crying out his name was the most beautiful sound he had ever heard.

  His hands shook as he tore at his own clothes, longing to touch her again, feel all of her, be inside her ... His cock slid into her to the hilt with one smooth thrust, and it was all he could do to stop himself from coming right at that instant. Her slick walls were clenching around him, a tight glove that seemed to have been made for him, and there was no other place in the world he would rather have been.

  Raising his head to look at her, he brushed away a strand of hair that covered her face.

  "This time, you won't get rid of me,” he informed her as he slowly pulled back and pressed in again. “You'll have to stake me before I leave you."

  Her legs moved slightly, spreading wider, higher, so that he slid deeper inside her on his next thrust. She held him there by crossing her ankles behind him.

  "What if I don't want to get rid of you?” she asked, not quite smiling, not quite apologizing, and Erik answered her with a kiss.

  * * * *

  A hand on his arm shook him awake, startling him out of his dream, and Erik grunted as he sat up. He hadn't meant to fall asleep like this, lying on top of the bed while he was waiting, and even less meant to dream of Gabrielle. Those dreams of reconciliation were always the worst to awake from, for he knew they would never become true; dreams of past times were easier, sometimes.

  It was a good thing that it was Meghan who had intruded on his sleep, and not his Sire. Meghan was too innocent to even acknowledge the tenting of his breeches he belatedly disguised by crossing his legs in front of him. Gabrielle would have done more than acknowledge it. At least, the Gabrielle he had once known would have.

  "So child, tell me,” he yawned as he rubbed his still sleepy eyes. “How did it go?"

  "The bitch said no!” she exploded with an irritated gesture, using a language he had never seen her use. His first instinct was to chastise her for talking about his Sire in such a manner, but she didn't give him time for that. “She doesn't care that you two are our only chance, she's not going to lift a finger. What is wrong with her?"

  Disappointment threatened to overwhelm Erik, but he pushed it back. He hadn't expected anything from Gabrielle, he reminded himself, so there was nothing to be disappointed about. Nothing.

  "You're asking me?” he snorted. “How would I know what goes on in her head?"

  The words felt hypocritical even as they passed his lips, but he refused to even think about that. It was true that he had known Gabrielle better than anyone else ever had. But it had been long before, and too much had changed since then. He didn't know her anymore.

  Clearly irritated, Meghan sat down on the edge of the bed, facing him, and Erik only paid half a mind to her detailed rendering of how the talk had gone.

  "I warned you that it was her choice,” he said in what he hoped was a soothing tone when she was done rambling.

  "But there's so much at stake!” she insisted. He had noticed, the first time they had ever talked, that she was particularly invested in the success of this plan, and her reaction now only confirmed that fact.

  He sighed. “I know. And so does she. But think of it this way. You're asking her to face her friends, her clan, her Childer, knowing that they're dead, that they're going to die again, and that she can't do a thing about it. It would be less painful to shove a stake through her chest. Less cruel, too."

  For long seconds, she observed him without a word, and he could tell that she had never thought of it that way before, never realized how hard it would be for them—for him—to return there.

  "If it's so hard, why will you do it?” she asked at last.

  He gave her a self-deprecating smile. “Because I'm not Gabrielle."

  Chapter 13

  They remained in the small village for three more days. Meghan had gotten used to Erik's sle
eping patterns as they had traveled together, and she slept during the day too and joined him at nightfall so that they hunted together to repay the villagers’ hospitality. Meghan had sent word back to her own village, and a few members of her magic circle were on their way to join them and help send Erik back in time.

  Beyond protecting the villagers, hunting allowed Erik to burn up his excess of energy and feed off demons, but none of it truly permeated his consciousness. His mind was too busy for that, running over the same thoughts over and over again.

  First, there was this little trek to the past. Erik had never been very comfortable to have magic performed on him, few vampires were, but here it was even worse, because it wasn't so clear when exactly he would be sent back in time, whether he would regain his hearing or not, how he would convince the clan, and especially Gabrielle, to change the ritual when nothing he had said had made a difference the first time around, whether he'd die once it was done or go through the same centuries by himself a second time ... So much uncertainty.

  And then, there was Gabrielle. Erik kept hoping that she would come to see him; Meghan had said she had asked where he was. He kept hoping, also, that she would change her mind, even though he knew better than that. He kept hoping, kept dreaming ... but it was useless to hope or dream, not when Gabrielle had made herself so clear.

  Useless. And yet, there she was.

  Coming back from his hunt a couple of hours before dawn, Erik entered his room to find himself face to face with a vampire apparently as surprised as he was.

  "I was leaving,” Gabrielle blurted out.

  "You were?” he asked, frowning. “Why did you bother to come, then, if it was to leave before I came back?"

  "I ... I ... just wanted to wish you good luck."

  Erik nodded slowly, never taking his eyes off Gabrielle's face for fear of missing something.

  "Thanks."

  The silence stretched between them, more difficult to cross than oceans and mountains. Erik eventually moved to the side, leaving Gabrielle free to reach the door if she wanted to. She did not move.

  "You're not going to try to convince me to come along?” she asked at last.

  "Convince you?” Erik repeated. “I think you made yourself rather clear. You want to be alone, that's your choice, I—"

  "I want to be alone?” Gabrielle cut in, her eyes wide in surprise. “Since when?"

  Erik gritted his teeth, ancient hurt coming back to the surface.

  "Since you left without a goodbye?” he snapped. “Since you didn't care to ask me to stay after I saved your fucking life? Since you practically ran—"

  "Wait a minute! I did ask you to stay. Begged you. Back then I did, and just months ago again. And you wouldn't listen to me. Both times, you refused to listen."

  The indignation reflected in Gabrielle's eyes was hard not to believe, and Erik felt his own anger flare down. Had she really asked? Had she really wanted it? Had Erik missed these words he had wanted so much to read on Gabrielle's lips? He had tried not to feel sorry for his loss of hearing over the past centuries, all too aware that he ought to be grateful he had lived when so many others had died. But at that instant, his deafness felt like more of a curse than it had ever been.

  "I'm sorry,” he said, trying to make his voice quiet, trying to hide the pain. “More sorry than I can say. But I think you should go now."

  The indignation turned into hurt, and Erik couldn't bear to look at Gabrielle any longer. If she had truly asked him to stay, it meant that they could have been together rather than alone for the past few months. Or maybe even longer than that ... she had mentioned she had asked him to stay with her twice ... could she have meant she had asked after than fateful battle? Had those been her last words to him, before she had abandoned him?

  Despair and unbearable pain at discovering what could have been filled him, and Erik looked away, waiting for Gabrielle to leave so that he could mourn in private a past that had never been.

  A strong hand closed on his forearm, bringing his attention back to her.

  "...listening to me?"

  Wrenching his arm free, Erik scowled at his Sire. No, he wasn't listening. He couldn't listen. Wasn't that the whole problem? Well, fuck that. He wasn't going to explain himself and accept pity, not now, not like that, not when in a few hours he would be gone. He couldn't start anything that might prevent him from making that trip. He had promised he would do his best to give humans a chance, and he had to follow through, even if there was a chance that Gabrielle might still want him.

  And even more, he had to do it because there was also a chance she might not want him anymore, and he couldn't go through that again.

  "Go away, Sire. Some of us have a battle to fight tomorrow, and need to rest."

  With these words, he turned his back to her.

  When, minutes later, he looked behind him, he was alone again, and he barely managed not to shout at the injustice of it all.

  * * * *

  The house was small, barely more than a hut. Its only window had been covered with a heavy cloth, surely to protect its occupant from the sun. Standing in the middle of the deserted house, Gabrielle didn't know what to think. Was Erik gone for good? Or was he only out for the night? A deep breath revealed that his scent was very strong around her; he had been living here for a few days, and he had left very recently. Maybe he would return. Maybe all she had to do was wait for him.

  And maybe it would be better if she did not wait for him. What would she even tell him, if she stayed and he returned? She had prepared this whole speech as she had ridden her horse at break-neck speed in the dark; she couldn't remember anything of it, now. There had been an explanation, somewhere in there, of why she had ever rejected him; of everything that had happened between them, it was the one thing she regretted the most, the one thing she hoped he could understand before she lost him again. But at the same time, she was afraid of his reaction to that revelation.

  The universe mocked her, as usual, by sending Erik in just as she had finally made up her mind and decided to leave.

  "I was leaving."

  She winced at the words that had passed her lips without her consent. Of all things she could have said, this was not particularly helpful if she was to believe Erik's frown.

  "You were? Why did you bother to come, then, if it was to leave before I came back?"

  Some things never changed, including Erik's ability to go to the core of a problem in two seconds.

  "I ... I...” The words she wanted to say simply refused to come out. “...just wanted to wish you good luck,” she finished lamely.

  Erik stared at her, as though not quite believing her even though he nodded. “Thanks."

  In the next seconds, she continued battling herself. If only she could manage to talk to him, really talk, rather than these inanities they were exchanging ... But already he was moving to the side, opening her way to the door, and she struggled to find something to say—and stay just a moment longer.

  "You're not going to try to convince me to come along?"

  Another frown marred his brow, deeper than before. “Convince you? I think you made yourself rather clear. You want to be alone, that's your choice, I—"

  "I want to be alone? Since when?"

  Shock had put a note of hysteria in her words, and she struggled to calm down. How could he possibly say this to her face when not once but twice she had asked him to stay with her?

  "Since you left without a goodbye?” Erik replied angrily, and her eyes widened a little more. “Since you didn't care to ask me to stay after I saved your fucking life? Since you practically ran—"

  "Wait a minute!” Once more, she couldn't let him finish when he was sprouting such nonsense. “I did ask you to stay. Begged you. Back then I did, and just months ago again. And you wouldn't listen to me. Both times, you refused to listen."

  Her voice was breaking on the last words, and that was what stopped her from saying more. That, and Erik's suddenly confu
sed look. Was he truly not remembering? Could the shock of the battle have blocked the memory of her pleading with him? But even if it was the case, it didn't explain why he wouldn't remember her begging him to stay only months before.

  "I'm sorry,” he said at last, but his words didn't explain anything. “More sorry than I can say. But I think you should go now."

  Feeling as though she had just been punched, Gabrielle stared at her Childe, who looked away from her. She simply couldn't understand what was going on. If he truly didn't remember her asking him to stay with her, then it had to mean something was wrong with him, maybe his memory had been affected in some way; blows to the head didn't kill vampires, but they sometimes did strange things to their minds. Had Erik been hurt, maybe? The idea made her want, more than ever, to have him in her life again, to take care of him the same way he had taken care of her.

  "Listen,” she said quietly, “I don't know what is going on with you, but you need to believe me, Childe. When the world collapsed around us, I wanted nothing more than to keep you by my side. And I asked you ... no, I begged you to stay with me. You didn't reply and I thought that was a pretty clear answer. That's why I left without a goodbye. Because I would have begged you again if I had stayed, and I couldn't, not again. Master vampires don't beg. Sires don't beg, especially not to their Childer. But I did. And I will again, if you will just hear me."

  His head was still turned away, and he hadn't reacted at all to her speech. Grabbing his arm in exasperation, she practically growled at him.

  "Are you even listening to me?"

  Erik was scowling as he pulled his arm free, and Gabrielle let go, surprise taking over anger. Something had wavered over his features at her words, something that she was almost afraid to identify. It was almost as though her words had hit with pinpoint accuracy. As though he had truly not been listening. But he was only two feet from her, he couldn't be that good at ignoring her. He had to have heard her.