Midnight's Kiss

Fourteen

Julian stared down at Melly’s averted face. She was hiding her eyes, but the rest of her was available for his perusal.

She looked so much better than she had when he had first laid eyes on her in the tunnel. Her skin glowed a warm, healthy color in the soft bedroom light, and her blond, curly hair glinted with gold highlights. The tip of one of her elegant, pointed ears peeked out of a curl. The healing properties from his bites were aiding her natural Light Fae ability to heal. Her bruises were fading, and her cuts and scratches already looked like they were several days old.

She was clearly upset. He rolled away from her, onto his back, and stared up at the ceiling.

He said in a controlled, even voice, “We’re short on rest, and our emotions have been running at full throttle. Are you sure you want to have this conversation right now?”

“I don’t know.” She sounded frustrated. “Apparently the nap I took in the bathtub reenergized me. I’m sorry that fell out of my mouth, but I can’t take it back. And I’m not even sure I want to.”

“All right.”

He watched as she left the bed, walked into the bathroom and reappeared a few moments later. She wore his dark blue silk bathrobe, and she had pulled her hair back into a loose braid. Not looking at him, she went to sit in the armchair where she lifted the lid off the covered food tray and inspected the contents.

After a moment, she picked up a cup of tea and cradled it in her fingers. Her expression was shuttered and unhappy.

He closed his eyes. Then he sat at the edge of the bed, pulled on a pair of dark gray boxers and put his head in his hands.

His old anger and pain had become such a toxic habit. He could feel the emotions begin to wrap around him again, like a familiar, restricting straitjacket. They felt as heavy as ever, only this time after the lightness of the sensuality and laughter that he and Melly had just shared, the weight felt intolerable and crushed his chest.

Intolerable.

No. No more.

Living with it was like living forever in the tunnels, or finding himself trapped back in the slave pits. It was a dirty, ugly place to exist. He might not have much of a soul, but those negative emotions were strangling whatever he had left.

He wanted her laughter. He needed her tenderness. He wanted her head resting on his chest in front of a winter fire, her fingers laced through his. He needed to embrace the possibility that he really could make different choices at the beginning of a new day.

“I want to let go of the past,” he said quietly. “Can we do that? Let’s draw a line right here and agree that whatever happened before is over and done. We make a pact to forgive each other and move on.”

He could hear the stress in her breathing from across the room. “Why?”

“Because I love you more than anything we’ve done to each other,” he told her. “Because I want to believe you’re right, and that we can make different choices that redefine our lives. Because I believe in you now more than I was able to believe in you then.”

He stood and walked over to kneel in front of her. She watched him with a damp, wary gaze, her expression closed in. Carefully easing the teacup away from her, he set it aside and took her hands.

“I want to tell you some things for your sake, not mine,” he whispered. “Okay?”

Her mouth worked, then she pressed her lips together and nodded.

“You’re a genuinely good person.” His voice was gentle. “You are so much better than I am. You’re kind, and you’re funny, and you’re ingenious and loyal to the point of stupidity.”

“Hey,” she said in warning.

In answer, he pulled the robe open and drew one finger lightly down the path of the scabs on her shoulder, where the feral had clawed her at the gate, and he raised his eyebrows pointedly at her. She scowled at him and yanked the robe closed.

Biting back a brief impulse to smile, he told her, “You are a beautiful woman, inside and out. I see you better now than I did when we were together before, and I love you more.” He paused and shook his head. “Whereas, I’m still a bastard. I learned all the many ways there are to kill a person before I ever learned anything else, and I’m always going to be rough around the edges. I know where the spoons, knives and forks are supposed to go, and I just don’t care.”

A small snort escaped her, even as a tear spilled down her cheek.

Carefully, he wiped her face with a thumb as he told her, “When we were together, I wanted to believe all the things you said to me, but I think at my core, I never did believe I was worthy of you. So of course you would end up with someone else. It was inevitable, wasn’t it? After you learned who I really was, there was no way you would ever want to be with me.”

“Oh, Julian.”

“Hush, I’m not finished.” He tightened his hold on her slender fingers and brought them up to his mouth. He said against them, “For the longest time, all I wanted to do was strike out at you and hurt you the way I was hurting. And I don’t want to live that way, or be that man anymore with you. I’m sorry I caused you so much pain, and I want very much to try again, if you will.”

Sniffing, she tugged at her hands. When he released her, she picked up the napkin off the tray and blew her nose.

“I have so many reactions, I don’t know where to start,” she murmured. “Which is par for the course with you. So I’m going to tell them one at a time, okay?”

“Okay.”

She met his gaze. “You’re worthy of me. You’re worth it. Spoons and knives and forks are the most unimportant things in the world. Even when you’re at your lowest point, you have so much damn heart. You offered your life in exchange for mine when you were angry and full of bitterness. I think that’s one of the finest things I’ve ever seen anybody do. So if you can be that man with me, and I mean if you can really let go of your bitterness and trust me when I say I want to be with you, and I love you, and I won’t leave you, hurt or betray you — then yes, I want to try again.”

He felt the smile begin to break over his face, and he opened his mouth to reply.

She put a hand over his mouth. “Hush, I’m the one who’s not finished now. I listened very carefully to what you just said. It sounds like you still might think I cheated on you, even when I told you down by the tunnel gate that I didn’t.”

His smile vanished. “What happened in the past doesn’t matter. All I want to do is draw the line between now and then, and let it all go.”

“You want to forgive and forget, even that.” She looked at him intently. “I’m not rehashing an old issue, Julian. That conversation just happened.”

He felt his world start to slide away. She wasn’t going to accept his proposition. This wasn’t going to work.

There were only two choices in front of him, and both were impossible.

He couldn’t say that he believed her, because she would hear the lie in his voice.

If he said he didn’t believe her, they started the whole cycle over again.

He was trapped, here, in his darkest place. Trapped by the witch to live forever in the role of the Nightkind King. Never connecting with his princess, never winning the love of his life. There would be no transformative magic, no new day.

Looking at her, he did the only thing he could. He told her the truth.

“Is forgiveness such a bad thing?” he whispered. “I love you enough to forgive you anything.”

Her expression was almost indescribable. Tender and exasperated, and with a deep, underlying well of concern.

Then she did a foolish thing.

The most completely unexpected thing.

She took his face in both hands and kissed him. Her lips were so soft, the caress so generous, it made everything clean and new again. It couldn’t be the last kiss, the final touch he would ever receive from her, or he would lie down and die. When she pulled away, he snatched her out of the chair and held on to her.

“It’s a hell of a thing to know, isn’t it?” she said. “That somebody loves you enough to forgive you for anything. I have to tell you, soldier — right now it’s a good thing I love you enough to forgive you anything too. So, yay for us, right?”

The same complexity that made her expression unreadable layered her voice. He muttered, “I don’t understand.”

“I don’t either, but maybe we can finally get to the bottom of this.” She hugged him, then pushed out of his arms and rose to her feet. He stood with her. “Something — or someone — has such a hold over you that you can’t hear me when I say I didn’t cheat.” She faced him, hands on her hips. “I want to know who did this to us, and why. Tell me what happened.”

He considered her with a frown. She clearly wasn’t hurling accusations, or trying to start a fight. She looked like she was ready to go into battle, but while her words were determined her voice remained calm.

Rubbing the back of his neck, he turned away. “I don’t know who did it. The why seems pretty obvious — a lot of people weren’t happy that you and I were seeing each other. One day I received a packet of photographs.” He looked over his shoulder at her. “They were of you having sex with Ferion.”

She looked like he had slapped her. “Somebody sent you photographs of me and Ferion? Ferion, the new Elven Lord?”

He lifted a hand and let it fall, looking away.

She strode around to stand in front of him, planting her hands on her hips. “The photos were a lie. I have never been, nor have I ever wanted to be, with Ferion.”

She looked so furious and determined.

And every word she said felt like the Gospel truth.

It threw him into chaos. Once he had thought she wouldn’t tell him the truth. Then he thought she couldn’t, but this was something else entirely. At this point, she had no stake in maintaining any lie, and his gut kept insisting that he believe her.

But…

“I couldn’t accept what I was looking at, so I had the photos examined.” He rubbed his face and looked at her over his hand. “Melly, the images weren’t manipulated. They were real.”

He tried to say it in as neutral a tone as possible, but her eyes dilated in quick reaction. She hissed, “No, they weren’t.”

As he stared at her, the feeling in his gut worsened. Of all the ways he might have imagined this conversation going, this wasn’t it.

“Once I verified the photos hadn’t been doctored, I had to know when and how it could have happened. Remember when you were on location for that movie in Singapore? You told me you were too busy to take a break.” He paused. He had to. Her distress was so palpable, he found himself reluctant to add to it. He added more softly, “But after a little research, I discovered you had gone to New York.”

Her mouth tightened as her gaze turned inward and searching, looking back in time.

She said abruptly, “Yes, that’s right. I did go for a quick visit. It was the only break I took, which is why I told you I didn’t have any time. Bailey bought tickets to a Broadway show that she knew I’d been wanting to see. She insisted, and I felt like I couldn’t say no. I’d been spending all my free time with you and I hadn’t seen her in ages, so I got on a plane, flew in, saw the show with her and left again.” Her voice shook. “What did you do with the photos?”

“I burned them,” he said between his teeth. “Then I ground the ashes to dust. And I tried my damnedest to hunt down the motherfucker who had sent them to me, so I could break his face and fingers. Because clearly somebody was trying to start some shit — so I was going to give them shit.”

Her eyes widened. “Did you find who sent them?”

“No. But I broke my fist on Ferion’s face the next time I saw him, so there’s that.” He needed a minute, so he strode into his walk-in closet to pull on a pair of faded jeans.

When he walked back out, Melly was sitting in the armchair again, her arms wrapped around her middle. She looked shaken and a little ill. Quickly, he crossed the room to her. “What is it?”

She shook her head. Just when he thought she wasn’t going to respond any more than that, she whispered, “The photos were real?”

As he gazed down at her, the bad feeling in his gut solidified into certainty. Before, he had followed the evidence until it had broken him down. Now, despite all the evidence to the contrary, he knew she was telling the truth.

He didn’t know how any of it had happened, but he knew one thing.

She had always been telling the truth.

“I believe you,” he breathed. “I don’t know how any of it happened, but I believe you.”

Her reddened gaze lifted to his. There was so much grief in her expression, he knelt in front of her. She put her arms around his neck. He scooped her out of the chair and sat with her on his lap, and she hid her face in him.

Could she have been drugged or coerced? His mind ran through a series of possibilities, each one more extreme than the last. His arms clamped around her while his emotions raged out of control.

“Melly, I’m so sorry,” he said from the back of his throat.

She pushed upright to look into his eyes. She looked fierce and determined. “You forgave me, and I forgave you. We’re drawing a line and moving on, remember?”

His jaw clenched. He couldn’t have felt more cut up if Justine had taken her knife to his insides. “But I forgave you for something you didn’t do.”

“You didn’t know that, which makes it all the more precious to me. You genuinely forgave me. In fact, it sounds to me like you tried everything you could do to prove it wasn’t true.” She scrubbed her face with the back of one hand, her mouth turned down in an unhappy bow. “Tell me what the woman in the photos looked like.”

He didn’t want to go there, but her words took him back to the moment he pulled them out of the manila envelope. The images were burned into his mind. Reluctantly, he said, “She looked like you.”

Her chin shook. “How long was her hair?”

“It was the length of your hair. It fell down her back, just like…” His eyes narrowed suddenly. “Why would you ask that?”

She laid a hand against his cheek. “Because I’m about to accuse my sister of doing something, and I don’t know if I can forgive her for it.”

“Oh, fuck me,” he growled. As much as he had obsessed over what had happened, he had never considered that. “Everything pointed to you.”

“I know.” Her eyes reddened again. “Someone put effort into making that happen, didn’t they?”

Quiet footsteps sounded outside in the hall. Gregoire said telepathically, Sir, I’m very sorry to bother you.

Turning his head toward the door, he asked, What is it?

First sentinel Graydon is here. Should I tell him that you and Miss Melisande are unavailable?

While he was tempted to say yes, Graydon had done a great deal for them in the last two days. Julian pressed a kiss to Melly’s forehead and told her, “Graydon’s downstairs. I need to have a word with him. Would you like to come, or should I go down by myself?”

Her expression changed. “I’ll absolutely come down too. I need to thank him in person for everything he did.”

“Okay.” Switching to telepathy, he said to Gregoire, Please tell him we’ll be down in ten minutes.

Very good, sir. I’ve placed a few clothes for Miss Melisande in front of the door, along with a replacement phone for you.

Thank you.

As his attendant’s quiet footsteps receded, he and Melly looked at each other. Her loose braid had slipped out a little, and gentle curls framed her face. He brushed one back, marveling at the softness of her hair.

“I think it was worth getting kidnapped,” she told him.

He raised his eyebrows. “Really? In spite of everything? The fear, the danger, and if what you believe is true, finding out about your sister?”

“Well, I’m not going to deny it, some of it really hurts right now. I need to hear the truth directly from Bailey, and I need to find out if my mom was involved in any of it. But in the end, it’s so much better to know the truth about something rather than living a lie.” She tilted her head. “And then there’s you and me.”

You and me. Not that long ago, he never would have conceived of saying those words.

“You better be sure about this,” he said. “Because I’m not going to let you go again. I’m never going to doubt you. I may not know anything else about what’s going to happen, but I know that much is true.”

A slow, sweet smile broke over her face. It turned a touch wry, which was purely Melly. “You can hold on to me as tight as you need, because I’ll be holding on to you just as tightly. I’m okay with the future being an uncertain place. We’ll figure things out. Answers to questions always come with time. But I know one thing, and I have to tell you right now — I am not going to live in Evenfall. I considered it for a while before, but that ship has sailed, soldier. There is too much drama that comes out of that zip code.”

A ghost of a laugh shook through him. “Don’t I know it.”

He pulled her close for a deep kiss. It quickly turned urgent. He fell into the dark intimacy of her mouth while she grasped the back of his neck and arched to get closer.

As her breath shuddered against his lips, he forced himself to pull back. “It’s okay,” he murmured. “We have time now. We’re going to get all the time we didn’t get before, and then some. And we will, by God, carve a niche for ourselves out of the universe somehow. I’ll fight the world to see that it happens, and damn anybody who tries to get in our way.”

She let out a deep sigh, and the tight grasp at the back of his head eased. “I’ll be fighting right by your side,” she whispered. She slipped her legs out of his lap and stood. “I need to freshen up before I go down.”

He rose to his feet. “Want me to wait for you?”

“No, that’s okay. I don’t want to keep Graydon waiting any longer than necessary. You go ahead. I’ll be right there.”

“All right.”

While she went into the bathroom, he opened the door to the hall. A Saks bag waited on the floor, along with a smartphone. He tucked the phone into his pocket, took the clothes in to her, then went to slip on a T-shirt, socks and boots and headed downstairs.

Gregoire had shown Graydon into the library, a large, comfortable room that faced the north of the house. As Julian strode in, he glanced out the open windows at the sunny day. While he might have to contend with sunshine, so did Justine, along with any other Vampyre.

He wondered where she was sheltering for the day. The citywide search would have begun by now, but San Francisco was a massive place and it would take time. Too much time.

The city was also bordered by water. If she grew desperate, all she needed to do was slip into the Bay and swim away. She would have the strength and the stamina to reach the East Bay, or even Marin County, to the north, or further down the coast. She had no need to breathe, so she could stay underwater and undetected for miles.

The trick would be emerging from the water, but she could do it, if she had managed to acquire more sun-protective clothing and knew where to take shelter.

Graydon stood near one of the windows, looking out at the grounds, his tall, burly figure outlined against a backdrop of the green tended lawn and colorful flowerbeds. He turned as Julian entered the room.

The sentinel was dressed much as Julian was in tough, practical clothes, in a T-shirt, jeans and boots. He wore a gun in a shoulder holster, and a battered jean jacket lay tossed over the arm of a nearby chair.

Julian strode over to shake his hand. “Thanks for stopping by.”

“Julian, I’m glad to see you’re all right,” Graydon said. “I got worried there for a little while, when I lost your trail at the museum.”

“Melly is on her way down — she wants to thank you too for everything that you’ve done.”

“It’s my pleasure. I was glad to help.” Graydon paused. “I’m about to head back to New York, but first I wanted to ask you something.”

“What’s that?”

“At the museum, your scent stopped on the sidewalk right at the place where there was a distinctive magical residue.” The other man’s keen, gray gaze studied his expression. “It was Djinn magic, wasn’t it?”

“Yes,” he said. “It was, and that particular Djinn is a nasty, malicious fucker.”

“Was it someone named Malphas?”

“Yes, as a matter of fact, it was.” Julian raised his eyebrows. “How did you know?”

Graydon turned away, looking out the window again. “Malphas and I go way back,” he said grimly. “I recognized his magical footprint.”

Julian paused as he took that in. He’d had no idea that individual Djinn could be detected by their magical footprints, or that Graydon had the ability to track at such a sophisticated level. It was never a good idea to underestimate the abilities of one of the Wyr sentinels.

“If you’ve had dealings with Malphas before, you have my sympathies,” Julian said. He walked over to a liquor cabinet and poured himself a glass of bloodwine. “I suppose it’s too early to offer you a glass of scotch.”

“Hell, no. I haven’t been to bed. Man, it’s late for me.”

With a chuckle, he splashed some scotch into a tumbler and walked it over to the other man. “I don’t know how much you know of what happened.”

“Tatiana filled me in on the bare bones.” Nodding his thanks, he sipped his scotch.

“So you know that Justine kidnapped Melly.”

“Yeah. That’s fucked up.”

“Malphas agreed to help Justine without an exchange of favors. He transported me to where she was holding Melly captive. He did it to retaliate for some things that have happened here recently.” Julian tossed back his bloodwine. “We forced him into a bargain with Soren as a witness, and I don’t think he took too kindly to it.”

“But Malphas is a pariah,” Graydon said slowly. “How do you know he’ll honor that?”

Julian’s eyes narrowed. Graydon seemed to be listening intently for his reply. Something about Julian’s answer mattered a great deal to the other man.

“He’ll keep this bargain. Malphas believes that Soren is in possession of information that could be damaging to his interests. Xavier has a new attendant who used to work for Malphas. Tess gave Soren a sealed envelope. If anything happens to her, or to anyone in the Nightkind demesne for sheltering her, Soren opens the envelope and distributes the contents to all the gaming commissions in the world.”

Julian shook his head as he remembered how Tess had bluffed with both Djinn. With a sleight of hand and a little misdirection, she had slipped a blank sheet of paper in the envelope and sealed it, while retaining the real information on another piece of paper. It had been an insanely gutsy move.

Slowly, Graydon lowered his glass. The sentinel’s normally good-humored expression had turned sharp and cold. He said, “I would very much like to know what that information was.”

Julian cocked his head. Sometimes you had to work for years to get a little payback. And sometimes the opportunity for payback fell in your lap out of a bright blue sky.

“Tess can never talk about the contents of the envelope she gave to Soren,” he told the other man. “That was her side of the bargain. But I might have in my possession some other information about him, if you’re interested.”

“I am very much interested.”

He warned, “If I give it to you, it can’t be traced back to the Nightkind demesne. Malphas can’t get the idea that Tess betrayed her end of the bargain. The threat of exposure is the only thing keeping her alive.”

“That’s a weighty decision,” Graydon said. “I can understand why it would make you pause. All I can say from my end is I would never betray a confidence that put someone else in danger of retaliation, especially from Malphas.”

Julian smiled at the unmistakable ring of truth in the other man’s voice. Graydon had a decency that went bone deep. “I know you wouldn’t.”

Quick, light footsteps sounded. Both men turned as Melly came into the room. She wore soft, fleecy clothes and slippers, the dove gray outfit loose and comfortable. As soon as she caught sight of Graydon, a smile wreathed her face. She walked over to hug him.

She told him, “Thank you so much for coming to help look for me.”

As a smile lit his rugged features, the sentinel patted her back. “It was nothing. I’m just glad to see you’re all right.”

“It was so totally not nothing.” Melly smiled up at him. “And if there is anything I can ever do for you, please let me know.”

The Wyr’s expression gentled. “I’m not like the Djinn. I didn’t help to collect favors.”

“I know.” Melly touched the back of his hand. “But I still mean it anyway. If you ever need anything.”

Graydon said, “Thank you.”

“That goes for me too,” Julian said. As Graydon’s gaze touched on him, he added telepathically, I’ll get you the intel by the end of the day.

Something hard, ruthless and eager flashed in the other man’s eyes. It was there only for a moment. If Julian hadn’t been looking directly at him, he would have missed it entirely. Within an eye blink, Graydon looked as affable and good-natured as he ever did.

Yeah, Julian thought. I bet people underestimate you a lot, yet there’s a reason why Dragos made you his First among all his sentinels.

Gregoire appeared and unobtrusively added a few bottles of bloodwine to the liquor cabinet. Telepathically, he said, Mister Xavier will be arriving within the half hour, sir.

Will he? Displeased, Julian frowned. Xavier was supposed to be on his estate, recuperating from the effects of the brodifacoum poisoning.

He mentioned something about updating you on the citywide search. As quietly as he had arrived, Gregoire slipped out again.

Melly said to Julian, “Bailey texted. She’ll be here in about an hour.” She paused. “Did I forget to tell you Mom is sending me twenty troops?”

At the mention of her twin, her smile had faded and the skin around her eyes had grown tense.

“You’re both very busy, and that’s my cue to leave.” Graydon bent to kiss Melly’s cheek, scooped up his jean jacket in one hand and nodded to Julian. “I’ll look to hear from you later about what we discussed.”

“Count on it,” said Julian.

“Good hunting.”

As he watched the other man leave, he said softly, “You can count on that too.”