Darkness Comes (8 page)

“Where will we go?” she yawned, letting her eyelids fall.

“Somewhere safe,” he vowed grimly. “I have a few favors I can call in.”

“I’m so sorry, father,” Malorie reiterated.

His jaw tightened as he leaned forward and brushed a strand of hair from her face, love for his child apparent in his eyes, “I know, Mal. I looked into it; no one knew about the open feed until nearly seven thirty last night. You had no way of knowing.”

She nodded her head, feeling slightly less than a complete moron for being at an open feed. Had she kept with the regimen she had grown up with, she would never have been at the mall at all; she would never have been bit. Swallowing, she lowered her lashes and studied her hands as they fidgeted in her lap, “Will we have to go back underground?”

He nodded grimly, “I am afraid so; now that the Aradians know about you, they will never stop looking for you. If they catch you, they’ll never let you go.”

She caught her lower lip between her teeth and bit down to keep from crying. With a single nod, she murmured, “I understand.”

“It’s for the best.”

“Father?” she hesitated. When he looked at her, she caught her lower lip and met his eyes. “What happened to your father? Is he dead?”

Gus was silent for a long moment and Malorie thought he might not answer. She flinched when he spoke, “I don’t know, Mal. Years before I met your mother he decided to go on a quest and it has been nearly half of a century since I’ve heard from him. I have been trying to locate him since your mother….”

Letting the words trail off, not needing to say any more, Gus stood up and placed a kiss on her forehead. With an encouraging smile that failed to encourage, he said, “It will be okay.”

As he walked out the door, she closed her eyes; she didn’t know how it would be okay. With the peace treaty, there were fewer and fewer safe houses, fewer and fewer places to hide. What kind of life was she going to be subjecting her child? It was going to be even harsher than the life she had known. Assuming they would be able to outrun the Aradian, which seemed so improbable.

A single tear slipped past her defenses and slid down her cheek; poor Toby.

Chapter 4

The moon hung in the sky, barely illuminating the path they would have to take across the deserted park. None of the remaining safe houses would allow Malorie to enter, not with the marking on her throat. She represented everything that they fought against and it was only a matter of time before she was found. Before she did something to guarantee that the man who marked her would find her. It was understandable, of course, but after so many years of training them, of fighting alongside them, knowing the risks and fears, it still frustrated her that no one would shelter them for even a single night. Hell, a single hour, just to rest for a moment. And her father had been ignoring her pleas to let her go.

No matter where they went,
he
was closing in on her, driving her to ground. She had already pushed herself beyond the breaking point and she knew that she wasn’t going to be able to go much further and yet her father refused to abandon her. She was very much afraid that it was going to come to that, sooner rather than later. The reliable truck that had seen them through many years finally, and unexpectedly, died. Mal knew with absolute conviction that the Aradian who marked her had accomplished it. She knew he was close; she could feel him. For Toby’s sake, she had to try to keep moving.

Climbing from the car, Gus urged Mal and her child to join him, “Come; we’ll have to make a run for it.”

“I can’t,” Malorie protested even as she stumbled from the truck, leaning against the side to remain upright. Anger and desperation gave her the strength to tell him, “You have to take Toby and go.”

“I’m not leaving you behind, Mal,” Gus growled, gently pulling a sleeping Toby from the backseat. The boy stirred and Gus murmured comforting words until his little body relaxed. Toby was silent but he was awake, his eyes wide and frightened in his pale face.

With one arm around her waist, her son in his arms, Mal’s father took the short cut through the park in the hopes of finding a car that he would be able to hotwire so the three of them could keep moving. She knew her father would fight until the very end, that he would gladly give up his life if it meant keeping Toby and Mal safe. But it was only going to be possible to save one of them and he could carry Toby much easier without her.

Tears leaked from her eyes; she knew what she had to do and it broke her heart.

“Father, let me go,” she whispered in a broken voice, her strength depleted completely.

“No.” But she heard the heartache in the short answer, the knowledge that he was going to have to abandon her.

“Grandpa,” Toby’s quiet voice nearly killed her right there; she would do anything to keep him safe. And with the Aradian so close, she was already lost.

“Hush, Toby,” Gus whispered softly. Letting go of Mal, he wrapped his arms around Toby to give the small boy some comfort.

Without her father’s support, Malorie stumbled but Gus managed to grab her arm to keep her from falling completely. Just ahead was a picnic table; if she could sit for a few minutes; just a few minutes, maybe she could catch her breath.

“Father, go,” Malorie said, breathing hard, barely able to remain standing, collapsing onto the seat. Even though her father had held most of her weight, it wasn’t enough; she couldn’t go on any further. Her body was boneless and it took all of her strength just to remain sitting; as soon as Toby was safely away, she would lie down and sleep. It was too late for her and her only hope now was for Toby; all that mattered was Toby. “Take Toby and go.”

“I’m not leaving you, Mal,” Gus ground out defiantly, sitting down on the bench next to her, holding Toby in his lap.

She looked at her son through half-closed lids, her shoulders slumped forward. Shaking her head, she swallowed against the lump in her throat as she reached out and touched Toby’s face. Moistening her lips, she whispered, “It’s too late, father; I can feel him; he’s so close; it’s too late for me. I need you to take Toby and keep him safe. Please.”

“No,” Gus stood up defiantly, grabbing Malorie’s arm to drag her to her feet. Even with all of his strength, he could not move her. Her body crumbled back to the bench, her legs unable to support her weight. She could barely keep her eyes open and everything that she had left was focused on memorizing Toby’s features. With an anguished groan, her father sat down next to her so she could drink in her fill of her son.

Toby wrapped his thin arms around her neck and she choked out a sob that threatened to consume her with despair. Burying her face in the bony curve of his neck, she held him to her, trying to speak with a lightness she didn’t feel. “I love you, you know.”

“I know,” Toby tightened his hold on her. His little body shivered and she could feel his hot tears on her neck.

Emotion welled in her and she felt as if she was going to break apart from the pain. She was so tired, so weak, and even as she held her son she lay her body down on the seat. Her hold on her son was loosening and she knew it wasn’t going to be much longer before she succumbed to the oblivion of sleep. They had to go. “Father.”

Gus understood without her having to say it out loud. Gently, he pulled Toby out of his mother’s embrace, setting the small child on the ground next to table. Bending, Gus pressed a tender kiss to her forehead, closing his eyes to prevent the tears from falling. Softly, he murmured, “I love you, Malorie.”

“I love you, too, father.” Turning her head to the side, she forced her eyes to stay open another moment longer and looked at Toby as tears streamed down her cheek. Holding out her hand for him, Toby stepped into her embrace. She smiled at him even though her heart was breaking, “I love you, Toby; I love you so much.”

“I don’t want to leave you, mommy,” he cried, wrapping his thin arms around her neck once more and holding on as if he never meant to let go.

“I know, baby,” Pressing her lips against his scalp, she kissed him, breathing in his little boy scent, the scent that she loved. She had to take a moment to prevent herself from sobbing aloud. “I know. But I need you to be safe and I can’t do that if I’m holding you back.”

“Mommy,” his little voice wept.

“Shh,” she comforted him, dying inside. Holding on for just another moment, another life time, she whispered, “Shh, it’s all right, baby. Grandpa will watch over you; he’ll keep you safe. I need you to be safe, Toby.”

She looked up at her father, silently pleading with him once more. Gus stepped forward and grabbed Toby, whose little body thrashed as he reached out for Malorie. “No!” Toby wailed. “No, I won’t leave you, mommy, I won’t go.”

“I love you, Toby.” Tears blurred her vision as she watched her father take him away, the little boy’s limbs flailing as he fought to remain behind. Her sobs caught in her throat and the tears burned in her eyes; she was just so tired. She fought to keep her eyes open until her son and her father were out of sight. She could only pray that they would have luck finding a car and being able to hotwire it. Squeezing her eyes shut, she felt the liquid trail new paths down her cheeks and she let herself cry. She had to hold onto the thought that one day she would see her son again; one day she would kill the Aradian bastard who tore her child from her arms when he placed the hateful mark upon her neck.

She hated this weakness; if it weren’t for the mark, she could have fought. Hell, if it weren’t for the mark, she would have been able to stay in their tiny apartment and give Toby some semblance of a normal life. But how could anything be normal after what her father told her? She still hadn’t been able to process everything that he had said; she doubted she would ever fully comprehend it, especially now. She had been expecting to live out the remainder of her years quietly, working in the nursery and watching her son grow. But now…

Was her life to be as long as her father’s? Could she bare living five hundred years, watching the world change around her, watching the people she cared about grow old and die? Would she be able to live with herself if she never found Toby again?

Oh, God; the thought of never seeing her son again felt like a vice grip crushing the air from her lungs, the blood from her heart. As soon as the Aradian released her she would run, no matter the obstacles, no matter the dangers; she would run and find Toby, find her son. She would fight.

“You cannot fight the inevitable,” a luxurious voice murmured above her. The masculine sound was rich and deep, tempting even in her defeat.

Warm fingers moved across her face and she opened her eyes. Luminous green eyes stared down at her from the devastatingly handsome face that had been haunting her dreams for years; the face that stared back as she lay on the floor of that mall. With a quick intake of breath, his dark, spicy scent filling her, wrapping around her, she breathed, “You.”

His lips curved upwards in a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. As much as she needed to keep her eyes open, she couldn’t and she hated her weakness. She wanted to fight; she wanted to give in to him. Anguished, she asked, “What have you done to me?”

His fingers trailed over her throat, tracing the markings on her flesh. “I have claimed you and I mean to keep you until I decide to let you go; I may keep you for a while.”

Everything her father said was true; he was going to enslave her. He was going to make her his sex toy and she wasn’t sure she was entirely opposed to the idea. It had to be the mark he had placed upon her neck; she would never willingly agree to be a vampire’s whore, even if he was warm and overflowing with life. Swallowing back her panic, she forced herself to meet his green gaze. “Why? Why me?”

“You have something I want.” His voice was so soothing, calming her and arousing her in equal measures. His scent became fuller, richer; it was intoxicating and she was drowning in it.

“What?” She was feeling almost languid, melting into his lap. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad, living to please her master. As long as she felt so… exquisite, she wouldn’t mind.

Oh, fuck, what was she thinking? She struggled to move but her body wouldn’t obey even a simple command. Tears welled up in her eyes and she wanted to cry out but she couldn’t even do that. She tried to ignore the pleasure that his touch created but it was nearly impossible; it was invading all of her senses.

His fingers trailed down her throat, over the curve of her breast, over the bumps of her rib cage, resting on her stomach. Heat welled beneath his palm and she would have agreed to anything he said, until he said, “A child.”

Her breath caught in her throat and she struggled to sit up, to push him off, to stand. She couldn’t do it and she screamed inside her head. She couldn’t even move to save her beloved son; what kind of mother was she? Weak, so weak, she glared at him, “You cannot have Toby.”

“No,” he shook his head and his eyes glimmered briefly. As his eyes caressed her face, he stroked his finger over her collar bone and murmured, “Not Toby; a child – my child. Only you can give me a child.”

“I don’t understand.” She struggled to say more but whatever it was he was doing to her felt incredible. Her brain wanted to cede all thought and just go with sensation.