Chapter 21

Chapter

Twenty-One

Blade

I haven't slept a wink, but sleep is the last thing on my mind. Lying in this bed next to Ana, Flame on her other side, I don't think I've been this happy in my entire life.

No. I know that I haven't ever been so happy. Her eyes move under her lids and a soft smile brushes her face. I hope that she's having the very best dream, and I wish there were some way to join her in there. I don't want to be apart from her, even in dreamland.

I finally told Ana how I feel, how I've felt for so long, and when my words came out, an explosion of happiness shot off inside me, one that lifted me up so high I may never touch down. I can't imagine the happiness I'd feel if she loves me back.

And I can't imagine the joy I'd feel if she ever forgives Crusher. Even if she never forgives him, I'd be happy if she lets him hang around us. The dissolution of our brotherhood seems unthinkable, but at this moment, I could bear that loss far easier than I could imagine surviving the rest of eternity without Ana.

Her eyes flutter open, looking directly into mine.

"Good morning." My entire being is consumed by a smile.

"Is it morning?" She stretches one arm above her head.

"No idea." I brush a lock of hair that fell across her eyes.

"Have you been watching me sleep?" Her eyebrows rise, and her teeth peek out to scrape her lower lip. It's the cutest thing I have ever seen. Her eyebrows attempting to show disapproval, while her mouth reveals her delight.

"Is that a problem?" I ask.

A smile washes over her, and she shakes her head no. Pushing up onto her elbows, she turns toward Flame, still sound asleep. Then she sits and pulls my face toward hers, her warm, soft hand against the throbbing vein in my throat. Excitement stirs inside me, but instead of kissing me, she moves her lips close to my ear.

"Should we go somewhere else and let Flame sleep in?"

Nodding, I take her hand and help her off the large bed. Not that she needs my help, but I'll take any excuse to touch her. I gather some clothes as she dresses.

This palace bedroom is the most beautiful room I have ever seen—all fancy fabrics, beautiful art, and soft, offset lighting—the furnishings a fabulous combination of antique and modern. The bed itself was like lying on a cloud, and if I'd been willing to waste even a moment of my time with her, I'm sure I would have slept well, like she and Flame both did.

In the living area, Crusher jumps to his feet. Standing at attention, the way we did when The Master entered the room, he shifts awkwardly and then looks down at the floor.

"Did you get any sleep?" I ask him.

He raises his gaze and then shakes his head.

Hand-in-hand, Ana and I walk toward Crusher, and I hope she'll at least talk to him.

"Someone from the palace stopped by earlier," he says.

Ana's gaze snaps toward him. "Who? Why? What did they want? Why didn't you wake me?"

Crusher raises his hands, as if deflecting her accusatory tone and rapid-fire questions. "Our travel to Ember's cabin has been arranged," he says. "Given the daylight hours, and the small window of safety for the second flight this time of year, our first chance to leave is in—" he looks at an ornate ceramic clock on the mantle "—seven and a half hours."

Reality creeps into my euphoria. "Shit. That means I've got maybe seven more hours in the archives."

Ana moves closer to me, one hand tracing over my bicep as her other holds my hand. "Do you think there's more to discover there?"

Shrugging, I shake my head. "There are a couple of texts I'd like to study again. And some I have yet to open." I'd rather spend every single moment holding on to Ana, talking, making love, but I would also hate to miss any detail that might help protect her.

"I'll go with you," she says. "I can help."

"I can help too," Crusher adds.

Ana tenses at my side. She's clearly not ready to forgive him.

"Why don't you stay here until Flame wakes," I tell Crusher quickly. "You can let him know the travel plans."

Crusher nods sharply, and Ana and I leave the room.

"I shouldn't have snapped at him like that," she says when we're a good distance away.

I look down into her worried eyes as she looks up into mine. "You can't help what you're feeling."

She sighs. "I'm not regretting my emotions, per se. I know I can't control what I'm feeling, but I can control how I react to them."

I squeeze her tiny hand. She's so wise. Since knowing her, I've fully recognized my full suite of emotions for the first time, and I hope to learn much more from her. "Do you think you can ever forgive Crusher?"

"I have forgiven him," she says.

I stop to make sure I heard her correctly. "Really?"

She brushes her free hand down the bodice of her dress. "I understand why Crusher lied to me about Timur. And why the rest of you kept his secret, but the entire thing…" she glances down "…it made me see Crusher in a different light. Or perhaps it helped me to see him more clearly. I understand him better now, and I'm not sure if…" Her voice trails off as she starts walking again. "I can be civil with Crusher. I know how much he means to you."

We turn into a wide corridor with a vaulted ceiling and more marble than I knew existed on the entire planet. It's mind boggling to imagine the work that went into this palace, or the money they must have spent. I'm no expert on art or design, and I don't have an eye for it like Flame does, but even I recognize the beauty in this place. Astounding beauty that doesn't begin to outshine the woman walking next to me. Not in my eyes.

My heart swells with gratitude and love.

"How much more research do you need to do?" she asks.

"Not a lot." Although that's not a hundred percent true. If she weren't coming with me, I'd probably spend every minute we have left at the palace pouring over texts, but my priorities have shifted.

Protecting Ana, helping Phil—those things are still at the very top of my list—but I no longer feel the need to uncover every last stone to dig for details, or to review all the stones I've already turned. I'm confident that Zuben and I have found the most relevant facts about this demon and about the other realms. All the details recorded by vampires and humans, anyway. To learn more, we need to talk to the witches, and that's not going to happen here. In fact, I can't make that happen. Ana's friend Ember is our entry point into that world.

"Were you always so interested in books and learning?" Ana looks up at me with so much genuine interest my chest expands. She's not just making small talk. She wants to know.

"Was research something your maker pushed you toward," she asks. "Like your knife skills?"

I consider her question, loving how she refuses to call our maker The Master, like we do. I resolve to follow her lead. "I don't think he pushed me toward books," I answer. "Reading, learning, they were just things I took too. From the day I learned to read, I couldn't get enough of it. And to his credit, The Master—our maker—while he didn't exactly encourage it, he didn't try to stop me." He didn't punish me for reading like he punished us for so many other things.

We step into the final hallway that leads to the archives, and nerves scramble my guts. If I dive back into the texts, if I let Ana help, I won't be able to avoid sharing certain details. I can't avoid it forever. I know that. But I also wish I could shelter her from it all.

"Any time I asked for books," I tell her, "our maker would get them for me. As long as I completed my training, he was happy for me to fill what little leisure time we had with reading."

I let go of her hand to pull open one side of the massive archive doors. But instead of walking ahead of me, she takes my hand, and we walk through together.

"How did you learn to read so many languages?" she asks. "Did you have many tutors?"

I shrug. "Taught myself. Figured it out by reading multiple translations of the same texts."

"That's amazing." The lights from above flash in her chestnut brown eyes, as if the illumination is shining within her. Perhaps it is.

"I struggled with languages," she says. "As a child, I only mastered Russian, French, and a bit of English. Then of course I learned Romanian, once I moved here, and picked up bits of a few others. And improved my English, of course."

"That doesn't sound like struggling to me." I wink. "Many people speak only one language."

"Even vampires ?" she asks as if the idea is incredible to her.

"Does everyone you know speak multiple languages?" I ask, as we approach the long table where I was last working. I'm both pleased and worried that the books are still open. Shifting, I block her view of the illustrations showing what this demon will do to our world if he gains more power.

"Most people I've known, both as a child and as a vampire, spoke several languages." Dropping my hand, she leans onto the back of one of the chairs. "I suppose that comes from growing up in a royal family."

Her head tips. "Perhaps some of the newly made vampires I've met speak only one language." She shakes her head as if she never considered it before.

"For example, I have no idea whether Selina or Ember speak or understand more than English." Raising her hands from the back of the chair, she draws in a long breath. "Another reminder of how isolated I was in this palace."

"I'm sorry you were trapped here."

She shakes her head. "I wasn't trapped . And I wasn't complaining, either. I'm just realizing how my life has been beyond privileged. The language skills of most people I've encountered is only a reflection of that privilege."

Determination solidifies on her face. "And all this reminds me that I don't want to waste any more of my life living in palaces. Based on what little I've seen of the world, I better understand the suffering of so many vampires—whether it's because they lack a safe community, or resources, or whether they're under constant threat from humans or each other."

She shakes her head. "I want to do good in the world. To make a difference."

I pull her into my arms, hugging her tightly and loving how her tiny form molds into mine, how our heartbeats quickly sync up, and how her hands stroke over my ribcage and then my shoulder blades, making me want to hold her like this forever.

She pulls back, but her eyes are smiling as she looks into mine. "Enough hugging. We both know what that could lead to." She winks. "Get carried away and we won't even look at one book."

"Books? What are books?" I grin, and she laughs.

"Did your dedication to public duty come from your parents?" I ask her, wanting to know everything about her at once, and wishing I had something beyond a few history books about her family to help me understand her more quickly. "Or did that come from King Dunkan?"

She pulls out a chair and drops into it. I push the horrific illustrations behind me as I lean over the table.

"I've already seen that picture," she says. "There's no need to hide it from me."

"Hide it?" Blood flushes my cheeks, making me feel like a small boy again, caught misbehaving before I learned to bury my emotions.

She reaches out for my hand. "I appreciate you trying to protect me. Really. But we need to face this together."

Nodding, I sit in the chair next to hers. I should review the texts but can't keep my eyes off her. Ana's beauty, grace and delicacy belie the bravery, strength and determination I know lie underneath. Not to mention her passion and sense of adventure—sexual and otherwise.

"I don't think it came from my parents," she says, looking pensive.

"What didn't?"

She grins. "My sense of duty. My desire to serve others."

"Oh, yes. Forgive me for losing track of our conversation. I get lost when I look into your eyes."

Her teeth scrape her lower lip, and my cock turns to stone.

Shifting, I fight to ignore its demands. "Where did it come from then?"

"Do you mean my eyes' ability to distract you?" She winks.

" That's no mystery." I trace the back of her hand as it rests on the highly polished table, marveling at the daintiness of her bones, the softness of her skin, the power housed in the blood that's surging in the tiny veins and capillaries under its surface.

"I've never really thought about where my sense of duty came from." She tips her head to the side and strands of her long hair brush the table's surface. "When I was human, our family was royal, but it was my little brother Alexei who was trained to rule. And even amongst the girls, I was fourth born. My sisters and I…" She draws a long breath. "We were ornamental, and little was expected of us beyond being decorative and ladylike."

"I wasn't good at either." She shakes her head and her brow furrows. "We girls were treated like distractions, like obstacles put in the way of father having an heir. It drove me crazy." Her eyes glance up to the ceiling. "I acted out—a lot. In hindsight, I was a total brat." A mischievous grin teases her face that quickly turns sad. "I failed to live up to the feminine standards expected of me."

I turn over her hand and stroke her palm. "I can't imagine anyone more refined or ladylike than you."

Her smile shows some appreciation for my compliment, and then she touches my bare forearm, and the impact of the added skin-on-skin contact is electric. I fight to control myself.

"Thanks," she says, "but you haven't exactly known a lot of women, have you?"

"Yes, I have." My back straightens.

She laughs. "I meant women you weren't fucking."

"Touché." My cheeks heat again, and shame rushes through me. The way I treated women in the past, the way we all did…

Until I met Ana, I never thought women had much use beyond their holes. For that matter, it never crossed my mind to have a real conversation with anyone —male or female—beyond my brothers and our clients.

"But you're right." Her finger traces a raised vein on my forearm. "I learned to act feminine and refined as you put it. Both when I was a child and here as a vampire, I learned to act in the way that was expected of me."

"You learned well." I shift closer, her scent drawing me toward her and making my cock throb, my heart pound.

"Too well, perhaps." She gazes so intently into my eyes I can see her entire life flashing inside hers.

I still have so many questions, but I feel like none of the answers will change the person I see right now, who she really is inside.

"You and your brothers," she continues. "You've helped bring back the person I was born to be. You've reawakened the adventurous rebel. My inner brat." She grins.

Lifting her hand, I kiss her palm, and a shiver of pleasure ripples through her.

"When I was a kid, I acted out too," I tell her.

"Really?" She smiles. "I know so little about you, even though?—"

"Even though what?"

A flush rises on her soft cheeks and I kiss her palm again.

"Even though I feel like I know you so well." Her hand cups my cheek, her thumb brushing my scar. "It seems strange to feel like I've known you forever, when I know so few details about you."

I nod. "I'm sorry about that."

"No need to be sorry." Her tiny fingers shift inside my hold. "You were a very young child when you came to The Institute, right? What was your life like before that?"

Memories flash through my mind, overwhelming me, like they've risen from infinite depths. Memories I've used pain to tamp down anytime they threaten to rise.

My back straightens, and I drop her hand. I'm not wearing my forearm sheathes, but my fingers itch for a sharp edge, seeking relief from the deep pain inside me. My mind becomes consumed with the razor I have stashed in my pocket.

"What is it?" She leans toward me. "Blade. Are you okay? You look like you've seen a ghost."

Closing my eyes, I shake my head, in awe of how well she reads me. "I think I just did."

Her hand slides onto my thigh, anchoring me to the present, and my urge to cut myself decreases.

"Do you want to tell me about it?" she asks softly.

"Very much." I open my eyes. "I'd love that very much."

She looks at me with so much expectation and affection I nearly lose the memories, but they solidify, becoming clearer.

"I didn't come to The Institute like the others. I was born there."

"Really?"

I nod. "My parents worked for The Master."

She leans forward. "Your parents were vampires?"

I shake my head. "No. Humans. Servants." I frown, anger rising inside me. "Poorly treated servants."

Her hand shifts on my thigh. "I'm so sorry."

"Among many other duties, my parents were used for their blood." Anger bubbles inside me. "I don't know everything bad that happened to them, but I saw enough. And was a firsthand witness to their murders."

"Oh, Blade." She embraces me, stroking the back of my neck with one hand, her other still on my thigh, and the anger and tension inside me unfurls. Ana must sense it too, because she sits back, and takes my hands in hers. "That must have been horrible."

I nod, sadness filling the space where all my anger was living. "One of the newly graduated vampires, I don't remember his name, he was feeding from my mother, and he—he raped her."

Disgust and empathy rise in her eyes. Along with a fierce anger of her own.

"I was with my father," I continue recounting my newly found memory. "Hearing her screams, he burst in, and I snuck in behind him. I wasn't supposed to be outside our small room, but like I said, I was a brat. And I hated being cooped up in that tiny space all the time. Especially since my parents worked very long hours, leaving me alone most of the time."

She shakes her head. "How old were you?"

"Four, maybe five? I'm not certain." I shrug. "I was so lonely. There were other children at The Institute, but I was barred from their quarters. The door to that area was always locked. I don't even know if my parents interacted with the boys."

Another memory strikes like a lightning bolt.

"What is it?" she asks, her eyes widening.

"Flame," he says softly. "Flame knew my mother. I think she might have been the only person of color he'd seen. And I was the second. When I first met him, Flame said her name."

I suck in a sharp breath. "Winnie. I'd forgotten her name until now." Closing my eyes, I search for my father's name, but find none. Then the memory of my parents' murder starts playing again.

"My father tried to pull the vampire off my mother," I want to get the story out, before it returns to the ether. "The vampire threw Father across the room, and when he landed, his head was bent to the side. His neck was broken. The only mercy is that my mother didn't see it happen. At least I don't think she did. Her screams of pain had stopped by then. She was unconscious. Bleeding…" Bleeding from so many places I don't want to mention them. I'm sure Ana can guess.

"The vampire kicked my father to make sure he was dead, and then went back to my mother." A shiver of rage traces through me. "He mounted her bleeding body again."

"No." Ana gasps, horror painting her face.

My eyes narrow as sadness mixes into the anger inside me. "I ran toward him." The memories grow vivid. "We were in a kitchen. My mother was a cook. I found a knife. I drove it into the vampire's leg. But it didn't stop him. He swatted me away, but I kept fighting him. I climbed onto his back. I tried to pull him off my mother."

My eyes close again. "The Master, our maker. He came in." I run my hand over my head. "I'm not sure how much he saw. In hindsight, he may have been in the room all along."

"The Master took me under one arm and pulled the vampire off Mother with the other. Still holding me, he drove a stake through the vampire's heart, and then used the same stake to kill my mother."

Every part of me trembles, but I need to finish this.

"Given how much blood she'd lost, she might not have lived. But I realize now that he couldn't let her live. He couldn't risk her escaping The Institute and telling her tale."

Ana leans toward me and strokes my face—so much hurt in her eyes. "I'm so sorry, Blade."

I draw a long breath. "You saw your parents murdered too."

She nods.

"And your siblings."

Her gaze drops for a moment, and when it returns to meet mine, it's like she's seeing every part of me, parts of me I didn't even know were there. I haven't felt this seen since Flame first befriended me in our barracks when we were boys. And as much as I already hated The Master, I hate him even more now my memories have returned.

"I suppose I should thank our maker for not killing me," I say coldly.

"I, for one, would like to thank him for that." Ana leans forward and presses a soft kiss on my forehead. Then she settles on my lap.

"Why do you think he let you live?" She shakes her head. "I'm sorry. That's an insensitive question, but I often wonder why I survived, when the rest of my family were killed. The question still haunts me some nights."

I tighten my hold around her waist. "My father—" I suck in the realization "—he was very tall, very muscular. My mother was tall too. Our maker must have seen the potential for me to grow into someone he could turn into a killing machine."

Ana shifts on my lap, and my erection renews its demands. She kisses my throat. "I always felt a strong connection between us. Now I understand another reason why." Her hand strokes my face as she looks into my eyes.

"You mean, our connection's not just physical?" I'm trying to make a joke, like Flame or Phil would, but it feels way too serious. "Are you saying you like me for more than my dashing good looks? For more than my cock?"

"Blade." She looks into my eyes. "The reasons I love you go way past my physical attraction. I love you for your intelligence, for your thoughtfulness, your kindness, for the gentle soul housed inside this powerful, handsome shape."

"You love me?" I barely hear my voice.

She gasps, as if just realizing what she said. "Blade, I love you for so many reasons, I can no longer deny the truth."

"The truth?" My voice is hoarse, and my heart stops, as if all the blood drained from my body in an instant.

"I love you, Blade," she says. "I love you with all of my heart."