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"You've turned cynical in your old age, haven't you?"
Rhys grunted softly. "It never works out, you know that. You love them for twenty or thirty years and then they die on you, and what have you got left? Memories and a broken heart." He shook his head. "I learned my lesson the first time around."
"Are you ever sorry you killed her?"
Rhys blew out a sigh that seemed to come from the very depths of his being. "Every damn day."
Erik had never felt sorry for Rhys Costain. The man was diamond hard and bulldog tough. If Rhys had ever had any qualms about being a vampire, ever entertained any doubts, he had never given a hint of it, at least in Erik's presence. Erik had long suspected that killing Josette was a wound that had never healed. Now, seeing the pain in Costain's eyes, he knew he had been right.
"You should go back to your little mortal," Rhys said quietly.
"I thought you said such relationships never work."
Rhys lifted one shoulder and let it fall in a negligent shrug. "There's a first time for everything. Who knows? Maybe you'll break the mold."
Erik shook his head. "I can't."
"Why the hell not? You've been pining away for her for days."
"I'm afraid..." Erik blew out a breath. "The more I'm with her, the more I want her."
"You're afraid you'll bring her across."
"Exactly. And she'll hate me for it."
"Did you ever talk about it?"
"She doesn't want me. She made me promise I wouldn't turn her against her will."
"So make her think it's what she wants."
"I won't do that. I can't do that."
"My love is dead. You've abandoned yours. What do you say we go find ourselves a couple of good-looking babes and drink until we can't drink any more?"
Erik snorted softly. "That's your answer for everything, isn't it?"
"What else is there?"
He had a point, Erik thought. If he'd been a mortal man, he would have drowned his sorrows in a bottle of booze, but, since he was a vampire, that wasn't an option.
He was about to accede to Costain's wishes when a terrified shriek broke through the barrier Erik had erected between himself and Daisy.
Spurred by a soul-deep fear such as he had never known, he left the club, streaking with preternatural speed across town toward a little white house with yellow trim, and praying he wasn't too late.
Erik burst into Daisy's house, the scent of human blood almost overpowering the scent of vampire. Erik's fangs lengthened in response to the threat as he crossed the threshold.
The sight that met his eyes brought him up short. For a moment, he could only stare at the scene before him. Daisy lay on the floor, her face ashen. Damon hovered over her like a bird of prey. He sprang to his feet when Erik entered the room, his hands curled into claws, his fangs dripping blood.
"What have you done?" Erik demanded, the words little more than a snarl. He didn't wait for an answer. In the space of a heartbeat, he was on the other vampire.
Under ordinary circumstances, he would have taken Damon down without much effort. But Damon was high on the blood he had just consumed. Daisy's blood. With a hiss, Damon twisted out of Erik's grasp.
Fangs bared, they came together in a rush. Damon let out a howl as Erik sank his fangs into his shoulder and ripped off a hunk of flesh. Blood sprayed from the wound. Fighting for his life, Damon found the strength to break Erik's hold. He retreated a moment and then, with a wild cry, he lunged at Erik.
Erik stood his ground. At the last moment, he sidestepped and as Damon's momentum carried him forward, Erik grabbed him around the throat. A sharp twist broke Damon's neck; a stick of wood plucked from the fireplace assured that the other vampire wouldn't rise again.
"Daisy!" Crying her name, Erik dropped to the floor beside her. Lifting her into his arms, he cradled her against his chest. She was dying, her heartbeat slow and irregular, so faint he could scarcely hear it. Her skin was cool beneath his fingertips. "Daisy. Dammit, don't do this!"
"Erik?" Her eyelids fluttered open. "Erik, are you there?"
"I'm here."
"Are you holding me?"
"As close as I can."
"I love you," she murmured. "I never stopped."
"Let me bring you across before it's too late."
"No..."
She didn't want to be a vampire.
She didn't want to die.
She didn't want to leave Erik, but she couldn't endure the pain that burned through her any longer. With each labored breath she took, the world around her grew darker. In the distance, a faint light grew bright, brighter, beckoning her. Indistinct shadows moved beyond the light.
Gradually, one of them took on shape and substance until it resembled her grandfather. Smiling, he held out his hand. "Come along, Daisy, it's time."
"Grandpa O'Donnell," she murmured, "is that you?"
"Yes, poppet."
She reached for his hand and as she did so, the pain disappeared.
"Daisy!" Erik's arm tightened around her. "Don't leave me! Dammit, don't leave me here in the dark without you."
His words, so filled with love and sorrow, pulled her back. How could she leave him when he needed her so? Was this what Grandmother O'Donnell had meant when she said Daisy's compass might guide her in paths she had never thought to follow? Erik's arms tightened around Daisy. He could feel her slipping away. "Daisy, hang on." Perhaps a doctor could help her, yet even as the thought crossed his mind, he knew she was beyond medical help. "Daisy." He hadn't wept in centuries, but now, at the thought of losing her, tears scalded his eyes.
Daisy blinked as his tears dripped like red rain onto her cheeks. "Erik..." With a sigh of resignation, she closed her eyes. Hadn't she always known, deep down, that it would come to this?
"Do it," she murmured, and went limp in his arms.
Erik choked back a sob. Had he waited too long?
Praying it wasn't too late, he bent his head to her neck and drank.
Chapter 38
She was drifting, floating. The beautiful bright light had enveloped her grandfather, then faded and disappeared, leaving her frightened and alone in a world of darkness and pain. Had she lost her chance at heaven? Was she in hell? Was that why her blood seemed to be on fire, why everything seemed bathed in crimson? She tried to fight her way out of the darkness but her body felt heavy, lethargic. She willed her toes and fingers to move, felt a sharp stab of fear when nothing happened.
Was this death, this horrible sense of loss?
