Born in Twilight (12 page)

He was not living up to my expectations of him. He'd taken me from that horrible place. Fed me from his own body. Even…oddly enough…tried to comfort me when I'd been terrorized at the sight of those coffins. And he seemed as determined as I was to rescue our child.

Our child. It was wrong to keep referring to her in that way. “She needs a name,” I whispered, half to myself.

Jameson turned to stare at me, brows lifted, then lowering as he understood. “Yes, she does. Do you have something in mind?”

I tilted my head. “When I was alone, chained to the walls of my cell, or trapped in that box waiting for my guards to feel the urge to release me, I talked to her. I sang to her and cradled my belly in my arms and pretended to hold her. I called her Lily. That's the way I envisioned her. As perfect and flawless as a beautiful lily. And Amber, because she was a mystery as old as time. A child born to a vir—” I bit my lip, then. But too late. My loose tongue had given away yet another of my secrets.

“Born to a virgin?” His eyes widened in disbelief. And then he smiled. “It's almost…holy. The first child born to a vampire…is born of a virgin.”

“There is nothing holy about what they did to me,” I said, and again wished I would learn to keep quiet and not blurt my every thought to this man.

“No. Of course there isn't.” He was silent for a moment. Then, “I know what it's like, Angelica. I was held by them, too. And more than once.”

“Perhaps you know what captivity is like, Vampire. But you cannot know how it feels to have your living child taken from your womb by your enemies. Taken away from you while you're told that you will never set eyes on her again.” Tears welled in my eyes then. That pain was still fresh and sharp. It cut to my very soul, if indeed, I still possessed one.

“No. I can't know that. It must have nearly killed you.”

“I'd have preferred they cut out my heart.” I averted my face to hide my tears from him.

“You can tell me, Angelica. There's no need for embarrassment between us.”

I looked at him, and knew it was true. We were linked, somehow. Bonded by blood, and by the child we shared. Much as we might dislike each other, that bond was not going to be easily broken. Perhaps not broken at all.

“I was drugged. Weak. I should have been able to help her…but I couldn't. I couldn't move. It was like a nightmare, where you try and try to make yourself wake up, but you can't. It was horrible.”

I lowered my head, only to feel his hand cover mine gently. Warmth and comfort in his touch. It surprised me. “We'll find her,” he said, and his voice was firm and sure. “Amber Lily will be all right.”

For a moment, I felt reassured. Imagine, reassured by a man I knew was a monster. A demon. An abhorrence to God.

But then he reverted to his true nature. “And when we have her safe, I'll make them pay. I'll kill them. One by one…all of them. They deserve worse than death for what they've done.”

“Only God can say who deserves death, Jameson,” I told him.

“God is too slow.” The anger I saw in his eyes frightened me. It was there in those black tiger stripes that split the brown velvet apart, a jet-black flame, leaping and crackling with rage. “Vengeance is mine, sayeth the vampire.” He stopped the car, and looked up at the towering apartment building's myriad lighted windows. “And it begins with this one right here, unless she tells me what I want to know.”

 

Hilary Garner's apartment had been ransacked. Thoroughly, and recklessly. Jameson knew DPI's tactics, and he knew their searches were usually conducted with such care that few people would even notice they'd taken place. This time, it had been different. They must be very angry with this woman.

Or they had been. She wasn't here, and he wondered whether she were even still alive. DPI did not deal lightly with agents who wanted out. Or who betrayed the organization.

He heard Angelica's gasp, and whirled to see her staring at a photograph in a silver frame. One of Hilary Garner and a friend, arm in arm, smiling at the camera. “What is it?”

“This woman,” she said, pointing. “She was with me when I gave birth. She…I could see in her eyes that she was suffering…. She bent close to me, and told me that the baby was a girl.”

“But did nothing to keep those bastards from taking her away.”

“I pled with her to help Amber Lily. And she nodded. Very slightly, she nodded.”

“Trying to ease her own guilt.” Jameson swung his arm and sent the photograph crashing to the floor.

Angelica stared at him, wide-eyed. “She got word to you. She tried to help.”

“She worked for them, Angelica. For years, she served the devil himself. One token act now doesn't exonerate that.”

“Even the worst sinners can repent,” she whispered.

“The hell with repentance. I want her to pay. I want them all to pay. Dammit!” He slammed his fist onto the table where the photo had been, and the wood split in two. Tears burned in his eyes. The disappointment did likewise in his gut. Damn, he'd been so sure he'd find something here. Some clue. Angelica could afford to be charitable. She probably didn't have a clue what those bastards might be doing to that helpless baby right now. But he did. He did, and the nightmarish images would not go away.

And then she was standing very close to him, head tilted to one side as she stared into his eyes. “You…you're
crying?
”

He turned away abruptly, not wanting her or anyone to see the torment inside him.

“I didn't know,” she whispered from behind him. “I didn't know you…you care as much for Amber Lily as I do, don't you, Jameson?”

He sighed. “Jesus Christ, Angelica, why do you think I'm here? What the hell do you think I'm doing if I don't care?” He faced her again, saw her shaking her head.

“But I thought…I thought…”

“I know what you thought. You thought I was a monster. An animal without feelings or emotions. Well, surprise, Angel. I'd cut off my arm if it would save Amber from those bastards. I'm every bit as human now as I was before, Angel, and so are you, whether you can see it or not. The differences are physical, not spiritual. Hell, if anything, I feel things more deeply than I did then. And you do, too. You know damn good and well you do.”

She shook her head slowly from side to side, her gaze turned inward. Jameson sighed hard, frustrated with trying to make her understand. She was as bad as the rest of them.

“You're hurting,” she whispered, searching his face with eyes that were wide with surprise and wonder.

He closed his eyes, tipped his head back as the pain overwhelmed him. “I just want to hold her in my arms. I just want to know she's safe and…and…”

His voice broke, and he was ashamed. Until he looked at her again and saw the tears flowing like rivers from those violet pools. “I know,” she whispered. “Yes…I know…I don't know why I thought…”

“Let's get the hell out of here,” he said.

“Do you love her?” she asked, and as she did she lifted a hand to touch his face.

“I love her more than my own life, Angel. I'd die for her here and now if I knew it would make things safe for her. And I know that I'll love her even more when I lay eyes on her. When I touch her for the first time…”

His tears ran down to her hand where it rested on his cheek. And she stepped closer, a tremulous smile dancing over her lips as she nodded. “Yes,” she whispered. “Yes, you will. Oh, Jameson, she's so beautiful. Her hair is thick and satiny and dark as a raven's wing.”

Like yours, he thought, and he touched a strand, ran it between his fingers.

“And her eyes are as black as midnight. So big, and innocent…”

And that was it. All she could take. She choked on a sob, and her face crumpled. She cried noisily, her entire body shaking as he pulled her close. Hell, he felt like crying, too. He might dislike the woman, but they shared something. This…this grief and worry and gut-wrenching fear for their little girl. And they always would share it. No matter what.

He held her close, rubbed her back and stroked her hair. “It's gonna be okay, Angel. We'll find her. I'm telling you, I haven't even begun.”

“Aw, gee, isn't that touching?”

Jameson stiffened. The deep voice came from the doorway, and they both spun around to see its owner. The man stood there, pointing a weapon at them. A weapon Jameson knew contained the one most powerful tool in DPI's arsenal. The drug they'd developed that would render even the most powerful vampire helpless.

In a flash, Jameson had pushed Angelica behind him. That he'd done it instinctively and without forethought didn't matter. It was understandable. Protecting the mother of his child would come naturally to any man.

“You have no use for us,” Jameson told the man calmly, slowly. “You've got what you wanted from us. Don't go risking your neck for nothing.”

“Do I look like a fool to you?” the man asked, smiling slightly. “Now talk, Bryant. Where is the child?”

Jameson's blood went cold. “What the hell do you mean, where is the child? You're the ones…” He paused, narrowing his eyes. “You don't know where she is?”

“Stop playing games. We've had this place under surveillance for days in case Garner tried to come back, though I can't believe she'd be that stupid. Now where is she? Where is she hiding that kid?”

He felt Angelica's eyes on him. Felt some kind of foolish hope spring into his chest. “The child,” he said slowly, “is in a place where you'll never get your filthy hands on her again. Guarded by a hundred vampires. A thousand by the end of the week. Tell your boss to give it up. It's over. We've won.”

The man's brows lowered. “You're lying.”

Jameson only shrugged.

“Come on, you're coming back with me. We'll get the truth out of you lying scum, one way or another.” He looked past Jameson at Angelica, and smiled just a little. “I'm gonna have a good time trying various ways to make you talk, sweet thing. I've heard your kind can't get enough. We'll find out, I promise.”

“Touch her and I'll rip your heart out,” Jameson growled, and he had no idea where the words came from, but knew he meant them.

The man's eyes flashed with anger, and he lifted the gun barrel, centered it on Jameson's chest.

“No, there's no need of that,” Angelica said from behind him. “Please, don't…don't use that thing.”

“That's a good she-dog,” he said. “There, you see, Bryant? Your girlfriend wants to cooperate. Maybe she knows a real man when she sees one, eh?”

She was too upset to guard her thoughts. And she felt ill, physically ill at the thought of this pig laying his filthy hands on her. And yet, she'd submit, if it would keep her alive long enough to rescue her child.

Jesus, she had a core of solid steel in her.

“Fine,” Jameson said. “We'll come along peacefully. You can put the gun down.” And he took a step toward the man. The fellow looked surprised, then smug. He waggled the barrel of the gun, and Jameson moved forward.

No!
Angelica's thoughts rang clearly in his mind.
Jameson, don't go over there! He'll shoot you!

Easy, Angel,
he told her without words. He knew damned well the bastard would drop him where he stood. It was Angelica he wanted alive, not him. And he'd be damned if he'd let the pig touch her.
This animal isn't going to lay a finger on you. Trust me. I just need to get a little closer.

He sensed her start of surprise. She'd spoken, mentally, for the first time. And heard his reply in her mind as clearly as if he'd said the words aloud. She hadn't truly believed it possible, he thought. Well, now she knew.

Jameson moved a few more steps…and then he lunged with such speed he knew the mortal could see no more than a blur. He twisted the gun from the startled man's grip with one hand, hit him hard in the face with the other. And ended standing over his unconscious attacker. Looking down at the helpless bastard, he pointed the gun, knowing the drug contained in its dart would be lethal to a mortal.

And then Angelica gripped his arm. “You don't have to kill him. He's no threat to us now.”

Jameson swallowed the bile in his throat. “You're right, I don't have to kill him. I'm killing him because I want to.”

He closed his finger around the trigger. Angelica's hands swept in like the wind, and snatched the gun away. She couldn't have done that if he'd been expecting it. But he hadn't been. As he looked up in startled surprise she flung the weapon, and it sailed across the apartment, smashing the window and arcing into the night.

“Jesus Christ, Angelica!” he snapped. “Why the hell are you protecting this bastard? You know what he intended to do to you.”

“Murder is a sin, Vampire, no matter what one's justification may be.”