Raised in Fire

I closed the sun-proof drapery and faced that door again. It was time. I couldn’t stall any longer.

I felt like dead Reagan walking.

When I reached the door, I hesitated, then ran back for another shot. In times like these, I wished I had a normal person’s alcohol tolerance. As it was, the alcohol was just taking the fine edge off. I still had a lot of stress and anxiety. A lot of stress and anxiety.

Back at the door, I lifted my hand to knock. Then realized it was technically my door.

After opening it, I sucked in a breath.

All of the available raised surfaces were covered in lit candles, radiating warm, flickering light. Rose petals littered the floor and the made bed. Darius sat on his sofa, dressed in a tailored suit and swirling a glass of something brown in a snifter.

As I walked in on wooden legs, he inhaled the contents of his glass before taking a sip. He turned his gaze to me. “I miss a good cognac.”

“I…should change…” It wasn’t quite a question, but was definitely leaning in that direction.

“Of course not. You look as beautiful as ever.” He stood gracefully and waved his hand toward the bottle of cognac on the coffee table in front of him. “Please, would you care for a glass? Or perhaps you’d rather bring in the whiskey? I can also ring for anything you’d like. Name it. Are you hungry?”

I’d called for room service shortly after our return to the hotel—and proceeded to eat more than a starving pig. Otherwise I would’ve said yes. One thing I did love about my dad’s heritage—I could eat all day without gaining a pound. That part definitely wasn’t human. My mom used to curse me for it.

“I’ll get the whiskey.”

“Of course. Or I can grab it, if you’d like to sit down?”

“Yes, please,” I responded meekly. I suddenly felt very out of place. I knew I should act like a lady, but I had no idea how ladies typically acted.

“Please.” He held out his hand.

I avoided it like he carried the plague. Lady or not, touching him needed to wait. I contorted my body expertly enough to win a game of Twister to get around him without making contact, then sat down on the chair adjacent to the couch. He turned on the jets, zoomed into my room, and was back a moment later and pouring me a drink.

I took it with a nervous smile. He sat into his original seat and resumed swirling his cognac.

“What do you think of the events of today?” he asked pleasantly.

I cleared my throat, trying to dislodge the flurry of butterflies still flapping around my middle. “I think the Mages’ Guild is suffocating this town.” I crossed my legs at the knee. Then uncrossed them and recrossed them at the ankle.

“Reagan, please. Don’t be nervous.”

“I am extremely nervous. I don’t know how not to be extremely nervous.”

He smiled. “I realize I am asking a lot of you. That you are honor-bound to follow through. So in that vein, I’ll share a troubled spot of my past with you, if you’d like?”

I crossed my leg at the thigh this time. It felt the most comfortable, while not feeling comfortable at all.

Why did this feel like I was losing my virginity?

“Sure,” I said.

He smiled again, disarmingly. Like he knew my skin felt too tight and my legs were trembling.

“I think you know that I am very old. The last time I was human was in William the Conqueror’s time.” My eyes widened. That meant he was nearly a thousand years old. “You are surprised. Yes, it is hard for someone of your youth to comprehend living that long. And believe me, not many immortals can sustain their life to do so. The human world has always been turbulent. Their ways violent. It was as such when I was human, and it is so now. Magical people are the same. To make it so long is difficult. It requires skill and finesse, not just the ability.”

“But…I thought you were in the French Revolution?”

“As a vampire, yes. I lived a great many of my years in France before I had the means to make my home wherever I chose.” He paused, but when I left it at that, he continued. “You once asked if someone had ever tried to trap me. Tried to get me to a certain location in order to kill me.”

I squinted in thought. That sounded like me, but I couldn’t recall saying it. Of course, I rarely recalled what I’d said a few minutes before, so that was no surprise.

As if he could tell I needed prompting, he said, “It was when we were on the way to the unicorn paddock. You were giving me your thoughts as to why someone would wipe away their footprints. You said—”

“Right, yes,” I said as the memory flooded back. I’d warned him our mark might be trying to trap us. “I remember.”

“I was a landowner as a human, born to wealth. I’d lost my parents early, sadly, and at first had a hard time shouldering the responsibility. I nearly lost my fortune to gambling and mismanagement. It wasn’t until I was twenty-one, an age much further into manhood at that time than it is now, that I had everything turned around. My vast estate was once again prosperous, and I was living the life meant for me. It was then I opened my eyes to taking a wife and producing an heir. There were many I could choose from who would solidify my holdings and birth strong, plump babies.”

“Wow,” I muttered.

“But for all the prudent choices, there was one of lesser status, a bad match, who had always caught my eye. A man’s undoing is always a woman, is it not?” His smile was sad and directed downward, at his snifter. “She was as bright as the sun. As beautiful as a blooming spring flower. Her wit and charisma drew me in from the moment I met her.”

He paused, and swirled the brown liquid around his glass. Candlelight glittered off the surface.

“I did not love her, but I was not far from it. I needed only a push. But even still, I would’ve done anything for her. As wrong as the match was, she was my beloved. Many remember their first sexual experience. Me, I remember her, even now. Her rosy lips, plump and supple. Her laugh, so hearty and rich despite her delicate features. The demure way she would look up at me through her lashes.” He took a sip of his cognac, his eyes faraway. “I was eager to call her my wife. Promised to bathe her in jewels. Elevate her status. Little did I know that she was on a mission. I embodied sin, in her eyes. I did not worship every Sunday, sometimes choosing business matters instead. I did not bow my head when grace was said. Small things. More importantly, various relics she found around my castle suggested to her that I was a vampire. It was a somewhat predominant fear at the time, and if the pain wasn’t still so acute, I would find that humorous, since it is what I became.” His smile turned brittle. “I did not know of her fears at the time. I did not know she was a religious fanatic who imagined me akin to the devil. I let her lure me to a lovers’ rendezvous, ignoring how poorly her behavior fit with her religion. I was blinded by her beauty. By her charm. Like a fool.”

Silence rained down between us as he stared at nothing, lost to the memories.

After some time, he took a breath, and it was only then I’d realized he hadn’t been breathing. That I hadn’t been, either.

“She’d arranged for me to meet her at a carriage for an afternoon in the countryside. I arrived early, but there was no sign of her. At first I assumed she was on her way, or that she’d gotten caught trying to sneak out alone, but I was set upon by a gang of men. I was tall for the time, broad. Strong. I defended myself as best I could, but there were too many. Near the end, one of them attempted to drive a stake through my heart. It was a paltry attempt, much too high and shallow, but the damages from the beating would’ve ended me. The blood loss alone might have killed me.

“As I lay there, bleeding, I heard the carriage finally approach. Her sweet voice rang out. I thought I was saved.” He gave a sardonic laugh. “She’d hired the miscreants. Paid them as they left. She assumed me dead—and she was happy about it. It was only then that I realized my grave error. And also…that she did not care for me. Worse, she loathed me. How blind I’d been. I blame that on youth, of course. If only blame made it any less painful.”

“But you didn’t die,” I said softly.