CHAPTER 8
Iro
Iro sat in the back seat of the SUV and held a red rose in her hands, staring down at it, knowing the meaning of this flower well.
She’d once given these flowers to another woman, and she had been alive when she’d done it.
She’d never given Cassia red roses. Not really a flowers kind of woman, Cassia preferred blood and sex as gifts, and, at times, Iro had happily obliged, but as she sat staring at this red rose, she thought of her first love and what giving this flower to another woman after all these years meant.
There had still been the smell of smoke in the air when Iro had been born, her mother had told her.
The Great Fire had only just been vanquished when Iro had arrived to a house of already four children, all girls.
Her father had hoped for a son, of course, and yet again, his wife had delivered to him a girl.
By the time Iro was thirty years old, her mother was long gone, dying before Iro had turned sixteen.
Trying to give her father a sixth child, and a boy at that, had been the reason her mother had been lost to the five children she’d already had.
All of Iro’s older sisters were already married, and three of them had children of their own.
One of them had two sons, so her father, who had been so unkind to his daughters, finally had a male heir to take over his blacksmith shop.
That meant he cared not for his youngest child, so Iro came and went mostly as she pleased.
“You can’t keep bringing me flowers,” Mary said. “He’ll find them and wonder what man is trying to steal his wife.”
Iro smirked and replied, “Then, he’ll never find me.” She climbed on top of Mary, tossing the red rose aside. “I’ve missed you. You’ve been busy.”
“We have responsibilities, Iro. My husband is important.”
“Can we not talk about your husband?” she asked.
“You’re naked in his bed, my love.”
“I’m well aware of that,” Iro said and slipped off her, rolling onto her back and staring up at the ceiling.
“Please, don’t act this way. He’ll be back tomorrow night. Your father doesn’t know you’re here. Let’s just enjoy our time together.”
Mary moved on top of Iro and straddled her hips.
“Run away with me.”
“Iro, we’ve been over this.”
“Mary, he doesn’t love you like I do.”
“Iro, you’re a woman. I’m a woman. I love you with all my heart, but we cannot run away together.
Where would we even go? What would we do?
How would we make money? What happens when someone figures out we’re two women living together and sharing a bed?
It’s unrealistic, my love.” Mary cupped Iro’s cheek.
“Let’s just enjoy what we can while we can. ”
“What do you mean, while we can?”
Mary leaned down and kissed her.
“No, Mary. What do you mean, while we can?”
Mary leaned back and said, “I’m with child, Iro.”
“What?”
“It’s early. I’ve told no one. He doesn’t even know yet.”
“You’re pregnant?” Iro asked, shifting until she was sitting up, leaving Mary to straddle her thighs.
“Yes. You knew this would happen eventually.”
“You just married.”
“Seven months ago. People are already asking when I’d give him a child. You know how this works, Iro. Had your father cared about you how he cares about his grandsons, he would have married you off already, too. I’m certain he will soon. He’ll want the dowry.”
“I’ll never marry,” Iro stated.
“Iro, you’ll have to marry. Like it or not, you’re a woman. Your father won’t let you remain unmarried, living in his house forever. He’ll eventually remarry himself, and he won’t need you to cook for him and clean the house.”
“I won’t do it, Mary. I’ll never let a man touch me how you touch me.”
Mary looked at her with sympathy in her eyes and replied, “I wish that were true; that no man would ever get to touch you how I do.” She ran a hand between Iro’s breasts.
“I hate when he touches me, but now that I’m with child, he won’t as often, and he won’t want to be around a crying baby all the time, which means you and I can be together more often. ”
“With a child that you share with a man you don’t love?” Iro said.
“Iro, if I could change this, I would. If I could marry you, run away with you, and be with only you for the rest of my life, I would love nothing more. You are my only. You are my one true love. I want nothing more than to live that life with you, but we can’t. I can’t.”
“I love you. I’ll give anything for that. What do I have to do to convince you that we can make this work?”
Mary climbed off her then and wrapped herself around Iro’s body instead.
“Nothing. There’s nothing you can do. I’m pregnant. I can’t raise this child with you, Iro. We’d have no money, no home, no way to ensure their safety. I can’t. It’s not just about me anymore.”
Iro lay there with the only person she had ever loved and knew things were about to change.
She had no idea exactly how yet, and what it would do to her, but six months later, when she found out that Mary was in labor, Iro went to the local pub, one of the few buildings that had survived The Great Fire of London the year of her birth.
It didn’t make sense for her to be at the house with Mary.
They’d always kept their closeness a secret so as not to draw attention to their relationship.
She walked through the door and earned stares since women typically didn’t enter the pub unaccompanied, unless they were working, and she sat down at a table that smelled of smoke, somehow.
“Hello,” a woman said as she sat down across from Iro.
She had long brown hair and gray eyes, which Iro had never seen before.
“Hello,” Iro replied.
“I’m Cassia. And you are?”
“Iro,” she said.
“Iro? That’s an interesting name.”
“Yes,” she said without adding anything else.
“What are you doing here tonight?”
“I needed to get out of my house for a while. A friend of mine is having a baby right now, and well, I’m nervous for her.”
“You’re not there with her?” Cassia asked.
“No. Her… husband is, I assume.”
Cassia looked at her quizzically and said, “I see. And do you wish she didn’t have a husband?”
“Pardon?” Iro asked.
Cassia leaned forward and said, “It’s all right. I can tell, but no one else can. Can you not tell the same about me?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You’re very beautiful,” Cassia stated. “You would be even prettier with shorter hair, though. Your face would be even more striking.”
“Thank you. I should go,” Iro replied and stood.
“I don’t have a husband.”
“Pardon?” Iro repeated.
“Your friend has a husband. I don’t.”
“I’m sorry for you, then,” she lied.
“No, you shouldn’t be. I’ve managed for a long time without one, and I don’t plan on getting one in this lifetime, either. I assume it’s the same for you.”
“I should be going.”
“Iro, she’s married to a man and is having his child; not yours, dear.”
“I’m well aware.”
“You should be with someone you won’t have to share,” Cassia said. “Unless you want to.”
Iro wasn’t sure what she meant by that, so she said nothing.
She bowed her head instead, excused herself, and left the pub.
It had been a mistake to go there at all.
She went home, found her father was still out, and climbed into bed, hoping he’d stay gone all the while thinking of the fact that Mary was probably now a mother.
When Iro woke the next day, she picked a rose from someone’s garden and walked it to Mary’s house, only to see Mary’s parents crying on the street.
She knew them, but not well. She and Mary had met through church, but no one knew they’d been in touch much beyond that.
Seeing them crying and putting two and two together was how Iro found out that Mary had died during childbirth and that the baby had been lost as well.
She dropped the flower on the street, turned, and ran.
Iro ran until she couldn’t run anymore, and at some point, she ended up back in front of Mary’s house, feeling like her life was over. Then, Cassia appeared at Iro’s side.
“I can take away all of that pain, if you want,” she said.
Iro swallowed hard at the memory. Cassia had lied, of course.
Becoming a vampire hadn’t taken away any of her pain.
It had given her immortality and more time to deal with that pain, rather than joining Mary wherever she was in the next life.
Iro had been too angry to kill herself after Cassia had turned her, though.
She’d also craved blood. Cassia had offered her a way out of her life, and she had meant freedom to Iro.
She had meant unbridled passion, and they’d spent the next century together, traversing the globe, fucking everywhere they could, and making love sometimes as well.
Then, Iro had wanted a break from it all.
She had asked for it, and Cassia had granted her time apart with the promise of getting back together.
Cassia had always called Iro her one true love, but Iro hadn’t ever felt that that was the case on her end.
She had fallen in love with Cassia, yes, but Mary had been her one true love.
Mary had been sweet and beautiful. Their first kiss had been tentative, and they had laughed.
She’d tasted of the sweet custard that they’d had in a tart that they’d shared, and they had lain in a field and made love after that kiss and their laughter.
Neither had known what to do, and they had been terrified of getting caught, but they’d had many years together before Mary had been taken from her.