Chapter Thirty-Three
Bryony woke slowly. It took her a moment to realize she was in the bedchamber in the Stone House in the valley. She smiled faintly, remembering the first rainy night she had come upon the place. And met the strange man who owned it.
She jackknifed into a sitting position. What day was it? Had she missed Veronica’s wedding? And her own? She frowned as memories swirled through her mind with no rhyme or reason. None of them made sense.
She was in love with Stefan but she was marrying Bloodworth the Bald to keep her father out of debtor’s prison. She was in Stefan’s house, but where was Stefan? And why did she feel so strange? She felt light, as if she could float through the air. The thought made her giggle.
What was she doing here? Was she dreaming?
All amusement fled her mind as a vivid image of Lord Bloodworth in silk pajamas flitted through her mind. She had a vague memory of going to his house. To his chambers. She had begged him to annul their marriage.
He had refused.
He had dragged her into his bedchamber. She remembered being desperately afraid, pleading for him to let her go but her cries had fallen on deaf ears, until she raked her nails down his cheeks and drew blood.
In retaliation, he had struck her across the face and she had fallen…
Bryony lifted a hand to the back of her head.
The last thing she remembered before slipping into oblivion was seeing Stefan appear like an avenging angel, his face twisted with rage as he grabbed a poker and brought it crashing down on Bloodworth’s head.
Suddenly frightened, she threw back the covers and swung her legs over the edge of the bed.
Stefan. Where was Stefan? Frantic, she screamed his name.
And he was there, sitting beside her, his strong arms around her waist, drawing her trembling body against his own, his hand lightly stroking her hair as he whispered words of comfort in her ear.
Relief washed over her. Stefan was here. Everything would be all right now. Several minutes passed before her trembling ceased.
“Feeling better?” Stefan asked.
She nodded. “It was just a bad dream, wasn’t it? Lord Bloodworth, he isn’t really dead, is he?” If it wasn’t true, why was she here instead of at home? Why did Stefan look so serious? “You killed him, didn’t you?”
He didn’t answer right away, and then he inclined his head. “I did.”
“He hit me.”
“Yes.”
“What am I doing here?”
Releasing his hold on her, he stood and put some distance between them. “I have something to tell you and I thought it was best done here, where we first met.” And because he couldn’t take her home and he hadn’t wanted her to wake up in a strange place.
A shiver of apprehension slid down Bryony’s spine and she folded her arms across her breasts, certain she didn’t want to hear whatever it was he had to say.
“You were bleeding to death when I reached you,” he said, his voice devoid of expression. “I killed Bloodworth and brought you here. You were beyond medical help.”
She stared at him, her whole body going cold as she waited for him to go on, sorely afraid she knew what he was going to say next.
“I could not bear the thought of losing you.”
She shook her head violently, as if by doing so she could forestall his next words.
“You were at the point of death when I bit you. I gave you my blood to save your life.” He laughed a short, bitter laugh. “But I was really saving my own.”
She stared at him, then glanced at her surroundings, noticing for the first time that there were no lights in the room and yet she saw him as clearly as if it were mid-day. Not only that, but he looked different somehow, though she could not have said why.
Gradually, she realized that everything looked different—the walls, the blanket on the bed, her own skin.
Colors were brighter. She heard a faint sound she realized was a dog barking, though there were no other houses anywhere near them.
And no dogs. She caught the scent of earth and trees, knew it was going to rain before morning.
“What have you done?” she asked, her voice barely audible. But it was a foolish question. She read the guilt in his eyes. “What have you done?”
The accusation in her voice cut him like a knife. He had no excuse, no defense, for his actions.
Her eyes widened as she thought of facing her family. Her father hated vampires. Would he hate her now? Send the Guild to destroy her? “You turned me,” she said, her voice laced with venom. “You made me a…” She couldn’t say the word. To say it aloud would be to admit it was true.
He nodded curtly. “The word is vampire.”
She shook her head. “No,” she hissed. “No. No. No!”
“Bryony…”
“I hate you!”
“I know.” He had brushed out her hair before she woke. Now, clad in her chemise, her hair falling over her shoulders in a golden cloud, her eyes flashing blue fire, she looked like an avenging angel.
Bryony wanted to scream at him, rake her nails down his cheeks, but a sudden pain exploded deep inside her.
A moan rose in her throat as she doubled over, clutching her stomach.
Wild-eyed with fright, she glanced at him.
If she asked, he would help her, but she couldn’t bring herself to say the words.
His gaze trapped hers and she watched, tight-lipped, as he bit into his wrist and held it out to her.
She stared at the dark red blood that oozed from the twin wounds and knew that was the answer to the agony ripping through her. With a cry of denial, she turned away.
“Bryony, do not be foolish. There is no need to suffer when relief is here.”
“I don’t want anything from you.” She spoke between clenched teeth as the pain grew stronger and more insistent.
“It is the only thing that will ease the pain.” He swore softly when she refused to look at him, refused the help he offered. “I can force you, if necessary.”
She bit down on her lip. What would be the least humiliating? Drinking of her own free will? Or having him compel her like a stubborn child?
Turning to face him, she said, “I will never, ever forgive you for this,” as she grasped his arm and drank.
Stefan clenched his free hand to keep from stroking her hair. There was a certain pleasure in having her drink from him, to know that he was easing her pain even though he was the cause of it.
When she lifted her head, she refused to meet his eyes.
Stefan licked the wounds in his wrist, sealing them.
“There are things you need to know,” he said quietly.
“As a new vampire, you will need to feed every night. I will take you out and teach you what to do. You will succumb to the dark sleep when the sun rises and you will not stir until it sets in the evening.”
She looked at him, mute, her eyes filled with fear and denial.
“It is not so bad, Bryony,” he said, his heart aching with regret for the life he had taken from her.
“What if I don’t want to be a vampire?”
“As I told you, the sun will destroy you. And if that is what you decide, then I will go with you.”
“But the sun doesn’t hurt you,” she said, her voice laced with bitterness.
“But I will stand beside you and let the flames that destroy you destroy me as well.”
She looked at him, wide-eyed. “Why would you do that?”
“I told you, I cannot live without you. Nor would I want to.”
She tried to hang on to her anger, tried to hate him for what he’d done, but the love in his dark eyes, the anguish in his voice, made it impossible.
If what he’d said was true, he had saved her life.
How could she hate him for that? She told herself to look on the bright side, to think of all the remarkable things he could do.
She imagined transporting herself wherever she wanted to go, starting a fire in the hearth with no more than a thought, reading people’s minds, although she wasn’t sure that was a good thing. Some thoughts were best kept private.
Stefan remained standing. His whole world had come to a halt and would remain so until Bryony decided her fate. And his. If she chose to die, he would die with her. If she chose to live but wanted nothing more to do with him, he would try to regain her love. And if that failed…
“Stefan?”
He lifted a questioning brow.
“I don’t really hate you.”
Five little words but they changed everything.
“I shouldn’t have said that. I should be thanking you for saving my life,” she murmured and burst into tears.
Muttering under his breath, he drew her into his arms and held her close. “It will be all right, love, I swear it.”
“I don’t want to be a vampire.”
“I know.”
“My…my father will hate me now. My mother, too.”
Sitting on the edge of the bed, he settled her on his lap. “Look at me. Your father already knows.”
“What?”
“I went to see him as soon as I knew you were going to be all right. He blames himself for what happened.” Stefan grinned at her. “He said if he had let you marry me, none of this would have happened.”
“I don’t believe you.”
He shrugged one shoulder. “It is true, nonetheless. Your mother will no doubt be shocked by the change at first. But your parents love you and they always will. Your brother and sister, too. I guarantee it.”
She sniffed back her tears. “I’m not sure I can face them.”
“It might be wise to wait a day or two. I gave you my blood to ease the pain of transition, but you must feed on human blood. Vampire blood will not sustain you for long.”
She stared at him, aghast. “Feed? On people? On strangers?”
“Why do you look so surprised? You know that I prey on others.”
“I know, but…” She shook her head. “I can’t go wandering through the night biting people on the neck! I mean…I just can’t.”
He tried not to laugh but failed.
“It’s not funny!” she exclaimed.
“Relax, fair Bryony. It will come naturally to you.”
“I don’t believe you,” she said. And grimaced. “I think I’m hungry. Or thirsty.”