Kiss Me Forever/Love Me Forever. Rosemary Laurey
hands were shaking as Tom lifted them away. She half-noticed his fingers were bent and twisted. “Go outside a minute. Let me get him ready. I won’t be long.”
Dixie wanted to laugh. Or scream. It hardly mattered. “It’s a bit late for modesty. I think I’ve seen everything.” He just looked at her. She was tempted to scratch out those piercing eyes. “I found him. Naked. And got him out of the sun. I also yanked the knife blade out, among other things…”
“What blade?” His hand grabbed her wrist until it hurt. His hands might be deformed but his strength was—like Christopher’s used to be.
“The one someone stuck in his ribs. And don’t ask me who put it there. He didn’t say.”
“Where?” He pulled the sweatshirt from Christopher’s waist.
“On the side, roll him over.” He did that as easily as turning a page. Dixie pushed up the sweatshirt and stared. Now there was just a small knot and a shadow like a fading bruise. “There was a wound. A great gaping one. I didn’t dream it. I swear.”
His awkward fingers smoothed Christopher’s side. “I believe you.”
“What happened?”
“He healed and used up his last strength.” If she opened her mouth, she’d bawl. Tom didn’t comment as she helped pull the sweatshirt over Christopher’s head and the pants down off his cold feet. If he had, she’d have swiped him, vampire or not. They pulled the covers up to his chin, the crisp-ironed linen making Christopher’s face appear even grayer. Tom turned to her, his eyes softened. “There’s a bed in the next room. This is your time to sleep. I’ll watch and call you when the time comes.”
“I’m not leaving him.” To demonstrate the point, she sat down hard on the edge of the mattress. The bed sagged as he perched on the opposite side.
“It won’t take long, he’s fading fast.” The choke in his voice made her turn. She wasn’t the only one heartbroken. “Tell me what happened.”
She condensed the wildest day of her life into half a dozen short sentences. “I thought bringing him here would save him,” she spat out the words with anger and frustration.
“You did save him—from slow death by torture. Wouldn’t you rather pass away surrounded by friends than scorched slowly by the rising sun?”
She shuddered hot and cold at the idea. “I thought vampires were supposed to be immortal.”
“Didn’t Kit answer that one?”
“We never got the chance to talk about it.”
He shook his head, as if to shake away tears. “No, I suppose not. It’s quite simple. We’re beyond life and death, but that doesn’t mean we can’t be extinguished. If someone’s determined and knows the way…With Kit, they took no chances: sunlight and an incision.”
“But I took out the knife, and he slept all day in the dark. Why didn’t that cure him?” She’d given up trying to hold back her tears.
“He was already weakened when they took him.”
“How?” Shaking fingers tried to dry her cheeks but tears came as if her heart were draining. Maybe it was. He pushed a folded handkerchief into her hand. Another time she’d have appreciated the luxury of wiping tears with silk. “How was he weakened?” she repeated.
“A combination. The immediate reason, it was the time of his borning, the anniversary of his transformation. We’re always weakest then, and they knew that. They knew to pierce him and drain more strength that way. Also…”
“Also, what?”
The dark shape shrugged. “He’d transmogrified—changed shape—a couple of times the past week or so. That drained him. And he doesn’t feed like a sensible revenant. His stupid scruples.”
“What do you mean?” Christopher had no hesitation about draining that jug on the table and it had restored his color, for a short time. “Should I have given him more? I had no idea how much.”
Tom reached over to steady her shoulder; she found the twisted fingers strangely comforting. His voice gentled as he looked across the bed, “It’s nothing you did or didn’t do. Just his stubbornness. He has an aversion to taking human blood. He’s fed off animals for years.”
“And that’s a substitute?”
“From day to day, yes. I feed from animals myself, sometimes, but on a long term, no. Add that accumulated weakness to the torture he endured…No revenant could survive both.”
Kit seemed to shrivel as they watched. Fear skittered up and down her spine. Dixie leaned over to kiss him. He felt as cold as Gran in the casket. She’d just met him and now she was losing him. Did everyone she loved have to die? Tears coursed down her cheeks. She didn’t bother to wipe them anymore.
The mattress sagged behind her. Tom had moved to her side. His arm wrapped her shoulders. “He was my friend, too,” he whispered, his tears wet and warm on her neck. “We were young together.”
Night passed with only the buzz of endless traffic outside the curtained window and the tick of the marble clock on the mantel to mark the time.
“It’s three. Dawn’s not far off. He’s lasting longer than I thought.” Tom’s voice shattered the quiet. Or was that her nerves? He’d barely whispered.
“No.” She wasn’t going to just sit here and watch Christopher die. She’d…Damn it, she knew what she’d do. “Listen! You said he was weakened because he won’t take human blood.” Tom nodded, his eyes heavy-lidded and red from crying. “Would human blood save him?”
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