Vampire’s Dilemma. Penny Ash
force demanding he take her. Shel closed his eyes tightly and shook his head. The dizziness passed. “Lucy…”
“What’s wrong?” Concern colored her voice.
A vision of Isabel in his arms, dead, rose up before Shel. He swallowed hard. “I can’t,” Shel whispered. He realized he was still touching Lucy, his hand resting against her warm skin. He jerked it away. “Forgive me.”
Shel turned and ran.
* * * *
Shel watched Lucy. He’d built the fire when she wanted to stay on the beach after sunset. For the life of him, Shel couldn’t figure out what Lucy was doing. What the hell does she need sticks for? Lucy rummaged around in that horrible tourist tacky bag she called a purse and pulled out a bag of something white. She dropped it into his lap then pulled out a small pocketknife and pointed at the bag of marshmallows.
“Open that while I sharpen the sticks.” Lucy opened the knife and got busy. She whittled the sticks to a sharp point like Shel had watched the old men do in earlier times as they sat in front of a general store and told lies to each other. Except Lucy stopped when the points were sharp and the men kept on whittling until there was nothing left of the wood.
Lucy held her hand out for the bag. Shel gave it to her in silence, not trusting himself to speak just then. He watched Lucy skewer a few marshmallows on the sticks then set the bag aside on the blanket. She handed him a stick. What the hell am I supposed to do with this?
She scooted over to sit closer to him. Shel sat very still. She lowered their marshmallows toward the fire, her hand on his.
“We did this when I was a child.” Lucy laid her head against his shoulder.
Her gentleness shattered something inside Shel. He bowed his head and the tears he’d been fighting since they’d started the small fire spilled over to run down his cheeks.
Suddenly Shel dropped his stick and stood up. He walked away into the darkness. He heard Lucy toss hers into the flames and hurry to follow him.
Shel stood in the darkness, his arms crossed tightly over his chest. He tried to stop the tears but they refused to even slow down. Lucy’s arms slipped around him from behind. She didn’t speak. Shel was glad; he didn’t think he could answer any questions just then. The way Lucy went on with life despite the things she’d endured and the weirdness trying to envelop her was too much.
Lucy turned Shel around to face her, pulling him into her arms once more. “It’s alright,” she whispered.
Shel shook his head. “These people want to kill us, Lucy.”
She nodded as if it were the most common thing in the world to be chased by killers. “Yes, I know they do,” she agreed, “but we aren’t going to let them. Shel, we can win. We’re going to win.”
“You sound so certain. It’s not like the books. There is no Council or organization or whatever of Vampires to call for help. Hell, there’s not even that many of us around.”
“There’s you. And me. It’s enough.”
“It’s not. Even with the Pack’s help the odds are impossible.”
“Nothing is impossible if you love enough.” Lucy tightened her hold on him and rested her head against Shel’s chest.
A chill swept over Shel at her words. He remembered Isabel’s pronouncement. The curse Madeline laid on him would be broken when Shel found true love. But what did that mean, what was true love? He wasn’t sure he knew. Shel pressed his lips against Lucy’s hair.
Chapter Eight: Must Be Nice
Shel stopped. The locket lay on the tiny nightstand like a challenge. Overcome by the urge to open the locket and see Isabel’s face again Shel picked the necklace up. For several heartbeats, he simply stared at the closed oval case. He heard Lucy doing something in the galley. She wouldn’t know if he opened it. Painful as it was he needed to do it. Shel pushed his thumbnail between the two halves and pulled them apart.
Shel looked for the old feelings. They didn’t exist anymore. He tried to call up Isabel’s smile but saw only Lucy. Isabel had become a pleasant but old and worn memory. It was past time to let go.
He gazed at the image of Isabel’s face. Shel heard Isabel’s words again, “Alas, I do not love you.” He let the bittersweet memory slip away. No, but your granddaughter does. Lucy is everything you never were. He continued to look at the tiny painting of the woman that had been the ultimate cause of all this. Silently Shel thanked Isabel. He would never have known Lucy without the events so long ago and he would have been poorer for it.
“Shel,” Lucy’s voice rang out behind him.
Shel jumped and turned. Lucy saw the locket in his hand. Ah, shit. “Lucy…” He mentally kicked himself. As he watched, all of Lucy’s shields went up again and she closed herself off to him.
Lucy held up her hand, stopping his words. “I know its Isabel you want. I’m sorry I’m not her,” Lucy’s voice was soft, barely a whisper. She crossed her arms over her chest. Shel took a step toward her. Lucy turned, hurrying out of the room as he reached out to her. Shel heard the door to the deck slam. His hand dropped. Shel clenched his fist and swore before turning to punch the wall.
* * * *
Lucy stood at the tiny stove and stirred the spaghetti sauce. The expression on Sheldon’s face when he looked at Isabel’s picture froze her heart. She envied her long gone ancestor the kind of love that he obviously still had for Isabel. It was plain Shel had never gotten over their love. Lucy closed her eyes tightly, beyond tears. She grieved for what she could have had with Sheldon.
All Lucy’s life the people around her had wanted her to be someone else. Lucy had suppressed herself for Keith, been the wife he wanted instead of herself. Sheldon wanted her to be Isabel. Lucy loved Shel but she would not, could not, make herself be someone she wasn’t again.
Lucy saw the desperation, the fear, in Shel’s eyes when he looked at her. She saw the needy little boy inside him. Lucy sighed heavily. If only Shel hadn’t stirred up feelings she’d thought lost. Lucy thought she could handle it when Shel had told her he’d just end up hurting her. Now she knew she couldn’t. Best now she distance herself from him even if that thought made her feel like she was dying inside.
Shel was coming. Lucy gathered her strength and turned. She’d be smiling when he came into the tiny galley. It didn’t register until she’d begun to turn that the footsteps came from the deck. The man behind Lucy filled the little cabin. Lucy opened her mouth to scream. The man stuffed a sickly sweet smelling cloth in her face. The floor went out from under Lucy. Her vision dimmed. Chloroform? She heard Shel shouting as if he was at the bottom of a barrel. The world went black.
* * * *
The sound of someone on deck set off Shel’s inner alarms. How the hell did they find us? Lucy! Shel ran for the salon. He saw the gun and threw himself to one side a fraction of a second too late. The first bullet took him in the shoulder. Shel spun from the impact. The second bullet hit him in the back. Shel hit the floor. He lay there without moving, blood pooling around him.
Shel heard the men methodically searching the boat. They spoke quietly in Russian. He picked out a word or two here and there, enough to know they had not found the key before the darkness claimed him.
* * * *
The headache woke Lucy to the knowledge that she was blindfolded, gagged, and her arms secured to a chair. Lucy turned her head trying to gain some idea of where she was. What did they use for this gag? Her mouth tasted like month old used athletic socks. A wave of nausea sent a chill through her. Lucy forced it down. She didn’t have time to be sick; she needed to get out of there. Shel’s voice came back to Lucy, telling her how Sergei had probably tortured his wife and killed her.
Carefully Lucy tried the bindings around her wrists. She could move a tiny bit but not enough to pull her hands free. A door opened behind her. Lucy