Page 35 of The Vampire Queen's Servant (Vampire Queen 1)

Chapter Twenty-four

No matter her reputation, the Council would have had to act against such a transgression. At the least, her Region would have been taken from her. It was Thomas who had suggested the course of action.

I'm dying, my lady. Tell them I killed Rex when he was off guard. They all knew we did not get along well. They also all knew he'd gotten unstable, no matter what they claimed to your face. Tell them you killed me.

She'd thought of a hundred other options, none of which would have adequately protected the three hundred vampires in her territory. Things were too unstable. Thomas had been right, and she'd hated the truth of his words even as she'd finally capitulated. She severed their link and laid the blame for Rex's death square on the shoulders of the man who'd served her loyally to the end. She'd put magical protection on the monastery, made it effectively disappear from the sight of the vampire world until Thomas's death in case Rex had ever told anyone like Carnal its location, but that had seemed woefully inadequate compared to her servant's last gift of sacrifice.

Perhaps the burning of souls wasn't punishment. Perhaps it was Hell's way of doing what she had done, taken something forever ruined and removed it from existence, as if that could fix anything. If only the memories could be burned with the body.

She sank down on Jacob's bed, lying down. Bran showed his familiarity with the room by jumping up behind her and lying along her back, a comfortable bulwark. Turning her face into the pillow, she smelled Jacob. His aftershave, the striped soap he used with the clean scent it said it had in the commercials. The smell of his skin. Her joints were aching, keeping up an alternating staccato with the drumming in her head.

Thomas had gone on to his God. Cleansed, pure, the painful fire in his blood likely rinsed away with the cool touch of holy water.

When she broke his arm, had Jacob seen a light in her eyes like she'd seen in Rex's? Was it coming to that? Was she becoming so lost in this disease she no longer could see past it? Was she making up her own reality, her own idea of what was a threat? Perhaps there was nothing left for her to do and she could go. Maybe everyone wanted her to go. Maybe it didn't matter. Maybe it just needed to be over.

Opening Mason's letter, she unfolded it, still lying on her side so the creased paper sat on the mattress and she could skim it with half-closed eyes.

He wished her well, the desert vampire rarely seen by any of his own kind. This was the first missive she'd had from him in over twenty years. They'd once been close, long before Rex. But Mason hadn't believed in the dream of Council and civilized behavior for vampires. He didn't care enough to try anything different either, and so they'd parted ways. He just wanted to be left alone in his barren world.

Typical for Mason, he cut right to the purpose of the letter:

You and Rex were the monarchy of us all for nearly a century. You, not Rex, helped set up the Council with its rules, because you know a king and queen are only as good as the two individuals involved. But you are still a queen, Lady Lyssa. I will tell you now what I should have told you long ago. I consider you my liege. If our world forever could be ruled under your justice, there would be no need of Councils and elaborate laws. Rex had deteriorated to the point his passing was a blessing, however it occurred. If I could absolve you of any guilt you carry, I would. Give you a penance or a rosary to say so you would worry on it no more.

I know pressure on you to remarry will be fierce, my fellow vampires crudely thinking their seed might find fertile soil. I do not think you are barren, my lady, if I may be so bold. I simply think there is no man on this earth who is worthy of being a father to a child of your making and your body knows it. I also know a threat is brewing against all you have built, though I've not yet pinpointed the shape of it. I have come out of my sandbox, as you always call it, and am keeping my ears open.

If I may make amends for the ignorance and apathy I showed to your noble cause years ago, if it would be of use to you, I offer myself to you however you need me, even if it is to relieve the crass pressure of matrimony.

You know I do not seek power or even your physical affections if you do not wish to share them. I just offer it as proof of my support of what you value. Even if I cannot believe in it as you do, I know what is valuable in this world. You. You are the Council's strength and they are still too young to be without that. I will stand behind you.

As long as you believe in what we can be, I can believe in your conviction. That is probably as close to a faith as I will ever have.

Mason's senses had a far reach. He obviously had detected the same dark undercurrent of vampire politics she herself had been picking up on of late. Those opposed to the civilized constraints imposed on them by Council code were becoming more vocal, and more numerous. The younger vampires, the ambitious made ones like Carnal. It was important that leadership be strong and unwavering to hold the commitment of the many who stood on the fence. Those were the ones who could upset the balance of power if they turned to apathy instead of cautious support for order.

Her lips twisted. But perhaps the attempt at civility had run its cycle. She'd lived centuries and seen governments rise and fall, philosophies change and die, be reborn and called something else. If the majority opposed the current structure, and the minority could not hold it against their onslaught, change would happen. But a world overrun by the brutality of a host of Carnals. . .

Closing her eyes, she placed her hand on Mason's strong script. Perhaps this was another sign. Mason at last had made a commitment. He would step into the breach. He wouldn't really need her. That had been the root of her disappointment so long ago. If Mason had committed to their cause, nothing would have stopped him from seeing it become a reality. He cared not for diplomacy, but he was good at it, as good as he was at being a benevolent or sometimes not-so-benevolent dictator. He had no problem with totalitarianism as long as the ruler was just. But then, therein lay the problem with absolute monarchy, didn't it? It only worked as long as the person in the crown made it work. But if Mason stood for her, it would be all right. He would not thank her for leaving him with the responsibility, but his word was good.

Bran whined as Lyssa pressed her mouth into the pillow, fought the heaving of her stomach. I will not throw up. I am tired of that, you hear me? Stop it.

The wave passed sullenly, and she blinked watering eyes as she opened the letter from the monastery. A smaller envelope fell out of it. An envelope that bore Thomas's seal.

She stared at it for a moment, then her gaze flitted to the short handwritten note in the abbot's script.

Mrs. Wentworth, Brother Thomas gave this to me several weeks before his passing. He asked that I send it to you on this date specifically. I hope it contains words that bring you comfort. We are glad he has finally been accepted into God's House, though he is greatly missed. Thank you for your continued patronage.

Why didn't Jacob bring it? Perhaps it had been additional surety, if Jacob had failed to gain an audience with her. She turned it over in her hands, studied the seal, then broke it open. My Lady, By now, I'm sure you've cursed my presumption a hundred times, and I am feeling the lick of flames from the sins I've committed to ensure Jacob was accepted in your service. But I cannot feel shame in at last saying my love for you and my love for God have always been as one, interchangeable in my heart. On good days, I hoped that was just an indication my service to you also served God's will. On bad days, I thought I was perhaps deluding myself and the last hundred and fifty years of my life had been a war between Lucifer and God for my soul, though I cannot imagine I would be of such importance.

I tire easily, and I could not dictate this to Jacob or anyone else, so I will speak frankly. By now I suspect you are confused and torn in your feelings, wondering why you want him so much, this man you've barely just met. For I have no doubt that Jacob succeeded in being accepted into your service, both because of the will of the man and because of what I believe

him to be.

Despite a surge of dizziness, Lyssa sat up on the bed, gripping the paper harder.

I know the prejudices of your world, certainly. You know I do. But hear me as I tell you that Jacob is the other part of your soul You probably gave him the first and second marks with barely a hesitation, startling yourself. Now you are held from giving him the third only for fear of sentencing him to an early death. Did you think I didn't know you were infected and dying when you never came back again? When you sent me your last missive, severing our ties completely? Do you think I know so little of you?

Tears stung her eyes, and she blinked them back. "Foolish monk, " she whispered.

Knowing that has only strengthened my belief in the things I will write to you about in this letter. Remember that life is a finite, precious thing, but what makes it precious is what we do with it. You have always treated humans as inferior to your species, though with respect and humaneness. Jacob confuses you because he fills a part of you which you thought could only be filled by an equal. Ergo, he is an equal.

I know you had little patience for my spiritual explorations, but in tracing your long and colorful history, and through other methods also likely to damn my soul, I believe--fully and completely--that Jacob has served you before, in two previous lives.

Do you remember the knight who saved your caravan from vampire hunter attack during the Crusades? He was only with you a short time before he continued his quest, but you remembered him so vividly. . . That was Jacob. Then there was the samurai guard assigned to you as a child. The one who was killed protecting your retreat when your father's house was overrun by his enemies. You are shaking your head. . .

Lyssa stopped the motion, frowning.

but now that I have planted the seeds, you will start remembering many things, including the things these two men have in common with the man in your service now. Jacob knows my theories on this, and though he too has some of your skepticism, he cannot deny his inexplicable compulsion to serve you. Please hear me, my lady. His soul will not survive being parted from you again. Let him make his own choice before you try to make it for him.

I would have liked to have ended my life at your side. That would have been my last wish. But by sending me away from you, it told me God had another plan. To find Jacob for you and give you the soul mate you've always deserved, the love of a man that will fill the emptiness of your woman's heart. That's something you've never had, not in all your many years of life.

I puzzled over why it was that his spirit served you as the samurai guard and the knight, two lifetimes that were within two centuries of each other, but did not cross your path again until now. Unfortunately, I believe it is because he comes to you whenever your life is truly, genuinely in danger. Bless your extraordinary abilities, that has only been three times. God gifts the strong sparingly, only when they have grave need.

As I said in my introduction, Jacob is the last gift I can help God give to you. Please trust your heart, for it is the strongest part of you, even if you do not believe that. You are the most remarkable woman I have ever met. You will always have my love, and I believe you have God's love as well.

Your faithful servant Thomas

Bran lifted his head, laid it on her hip as she sank back down on the pillow, fisting the letter in one hand, the pillowcase in the other as she turned her face into where Jacob laid his head.

No. Thomas had been a sick man, deluded by his illness, imagining he could give her something that didn't exist, a romantic fantasy. If she believed it, she would kill Jacob with her own selfishness and desires. Perhaps like Mason's letter, it was a sign. A sign she needed to end it before she left another body in her wake.

***

Jacob got home a handful of moments before dawn. Urgency was gnawing at him so hard during the last few miles that without knowing why he asked Elijah to speed it up. The man glanced over at him and flattened the gas pedal. When he wasn't driving a limo Elijah drove a serviceable pickup that was practically antique. However, he had some skill with engines, because it jumped up to ninety with no problem.

Bran was waiting for him in the gravel driveway, whining. It made his skin turn to ice. Jacob barely managed to thank Mr. Ingram before he was in the kitchen, running down the hall, taking the stairs three at a time, Bran on his heels.

The sun was starting to emerge. She'd broken the east-facing stained glass window in the upper hallway. Her palms were still stained with the blood, though the wounds were healed. She held a large shard of colored glass in either hand as she lay on the floor, right where he knew the sun marked a big square of filtered multicolored light each day. She couldn't walk through it when the sun projected directly on the glass, but she could skirt the edges and enjoy the look of it.

With an oath, he pulled her out of the dangerous area, feeling the touch of the early morning breeze coming through the open hole as he went down on his knees next to her. There was blood on her lips. Black and brown, it was also on her chin and the top of the loose dress she'd donned. She'd thrown up again.

"Lyssa. " He gathered her up, lifted her despite the fire that shot through his tightly taped forearm. She stirred, opened her eyes. The grogginess of early morning had her firmly in its grip, and perhaps the effect of the drug he'd given her had kicked in at last. She wouldn't have felt the sun until it had her pinned down and burning, searing her to the bones. He would have found a pile of ash outlining the shape of her. He swallowed, cursing himself as he strode back to the bedroom, laying her down on the top of the covers.

"I won't become Rex, " she whispered. "Even if I must abandon my responsibilities. This is the way a vampire's life ends. We know it's time to go, but we cannot die, so we simply place ourselves in the right situation to have it ended. "

"No. "

Elijah's words and this moment made the truth all too clear for him. For the first time, Jacob understood some of what she'd been trying to teach him. More important, why she'd been trying to teach it to him, even if he didn't totally agree with all of it.

Gideon had once told him the wise man knew when to let go of pride to grab hold of wisdom. Raised in a society that held an individual's worth and uniqueness as right, and submission to the will of another as wrong, he'd been fighting the very oath he'd taken from the beginning, putting conditions on it.

He placed his fingers on her lips before she could speak further.

"Forgive me, my lady. " Bowing his head, he dropped to one knee by the bed. Guiding her hand, he put it on his head as if she sat on a throne, completely in control and beautiful and unmarred, rather than too weak to sit up, weary and stained with her own blood. "You were right. What I did was unforgivable. I'm your servant, and I never should have entered your mind without permission. You won't have to guard your thoughts against me. Ever. I'll never again try to do that without your leave. I beg your forgiveness for my disrespect, though I shall never deserve it. "

He stayed that way for long minutes, determined not to move until she bid him to do so, despite how urgently he wanted to cosset her. Clean her up and take care of her to make her feel more like herself.

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