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"Dunleavy has never walked away without causing as much havoc and death as he could muster." She hesitated, but curiosity got the better of her, and she asked, “Did Christine get caught in one of Dunleavy's death and destruction binges?"
She caught his grimace in the mirror. “No. Christine paid the price for my stupidity."
"What happened?"
"We were living in Chicago at the time—"
"You and Christine?” she interrupted, surprised. “In the same house?"
"No, not in the same house.” His gaze met hers in the mirror, dark eyes filled with a heat that made her toes curl. “I have only lived with two women in all my years as a vampire. And I have truly loved only one."
She sighed softly. If there was one thing she was sure of, it was the fact that she'd never tire of hearing him say things like that.
He smiled. “We lived in the same district and had been lovers for years. When her husband died, she used his legacy to open a small milliner store. Over the years, her business, and her fame, grew." She didn't bother commenting on the fact he'd basically admitted he and Christine had been lovers while her husband was still alive. Given the utter loneliness she'd sensed in him when she first met him, she could hardly take him to task for grabbing happiness where he found it. Besides, it had all happened long ago, and the people involved were long dead. “So how did Dunleavy get involved with her?"
"He didn't. I caught him trying to kidnap a woman and beat him up. My mistake was not killing him."
"Why on earth didn't you?"
He shrugged. “At the time, I thought I was doing the right thing. I didn't realize he was anything more than a blood thirsty vampire intent on a kill."
"I thought you killed blood thirsty vampires?"
"Nowadays, yes."
She raised her eyebrows. Did those words mean that Weylin's spell had faded to a point where Michael no longer thought he was living in the past?
"Back then,” he continued, his words confirming her thoughts, “I had more of a ‘live and let live’ attitude. At least until Christine was killed."
So Christine had been the first step on his road to becoming a key member in the foundation of the Circle. Patrick had obviously been the last. “How did Dunleavy know you were involved with her?" He grimaced. “Christine's success made her very welcome at many society gatherings. I was her regular escort. Neither of us were exactly hard to track down."
"How did she die?"
"Dunleavy shot her. She bled to death in my arms."
"I'm sorry.” She brushed a kiss across his wet shoulders. “But at least being shot was a quicker death than what Dunleavy could have offered."
"That's the problem. He did do worse. He raised her from the dead and turned her against me." And he'd been forced to kill her all over again. “Dunleavy deserved the death you gave him."
"Yes, he did. But here we are, and once again, others are paying for something I did."
"If there's one thing I've learned in my time with you, it's that the mentality and actions of psychos is not that of normal human beings. What's happening here is not your fault, just as what happened to Christine was not your fault."
"If I'd killed him—"
"You don't have clairvoyance. You can't see the future. Hindsight is wonderful, but at the time, you thought you were doing the right thing."
He smiled and turned around, drawing her into his arms and kissing her soundly. “Thank you,” he said, pulling away from the kiss and gazing down at her.
She raised an eyebrow. “For what?"
"For listening. For understanding. I have carried the guilt of Christine's death for a long time."
"Just as you carried the guilt of Patrick's death?"
The warmth in his face died a little. She saw the struggle in his eyes, felt, via the link, his instinctive need to shut her out battle with the desire to finally acknowledge, and therefore release, some of the pain of his past.
He pulled her close again, wrapping his arms tightly around her, as if drawing strength from her closeness. Which was ridiculous. If any man was an island, it was this vampire.
