Page 57 of Dark Embrace
“You cannot know that,” Killian said, his voice cold. He withdrew something from his cloak, and as he held it out, an offering to her father, Sarah saw that it was a flask. “Drink,” heordered.
Her father looked back and forth between the two, then he accepted the flask from Killian and took a tentative sip. His eyes widened and he drank the whole of it down in greedygulps.
Killian strode to Sarah’s side as he offered a command, his tone ice and steel. “Do not move from that spot, Mr. Lowell. Certainly, donotforce me to stop you.” He pulled Sarah against him, wrapping her in the haven of hisembrace.
She could not say how long they stood thus. Perhaps only seconds, perhaps far longer. At length, she felt her control return. Drawing a shaky breath, she stepped free of the shelter of Killian’s wonderfully safe embrace, her gaze lifting to meet her father’s tormentedstare.
“I thought you were an opium addict. I thought that under the influence of that foul drug you fell in the Thames and drowned.” She paused. “Youletmethinkthat.”
“I did. And I am sorry.” Her father held his hand out to her, tears glittering on his lashes. Even in the paltry light, she could see his pallor and the deep black circles beneath his eyes. He had suffered, and it hurt her to know it. “I was never an opium addict, Sarah. I wanted you to think it because it was the only way to shield you. The symptoms you saw were...it was thehunger.I cannot explain it. It is like nothing I have ever experienced. It only grew stronger, a gnawing pain that ripped me to bits until I dared not be near you, dared not trust myself. My God, you have no idea what I have become. Ididwant to die. I tried. Flung myself in the Thames. Only...I came to understand that this thing I have become will not die.” He drew a great shuddering breath. “My God, I have missedyouso.”
“Do not lie to yourself or to her,” Killian said, his voice low. “You knew there was a waytodie.”
Her father drew a breath, then blew it out. “Alright. Yes. I knew I could stand in the sun. It didn’t take long to find that out.ButI—”
“Didn’t want to die,” Killian finishedforhim.
“I didn’t want to die,” her fatheragreed.
“Papa,” Sarah said past the lump in her throat, her hand reachingforhim.
He lurched forward. Moving so fast he was little more than a blur, Killian insinuated himself between them, using his body as ashield.
“Do you trust yourself, Mr. Lowell?” he asked,darklysoft.
“She is my daughter,” herfathersaid.
“She ismine,” Killian said in a tone she had never before heard from him. That single word revealed the beast inside him, the primitive creature driven by instinct, driven to claim and to hold what he claimed. He looked down at her then. “She is my light, my joy, my heartbeat. I will let nothingharmher.”
“I will not harm her. I have sat by her bed as she slept. I have followed her through this vile place—” her father gestured at their surroundings “—to keephersafe.”
“You sat by my bed?”Sleep now, Sarah. Dream sweet dreams.“You did. Iremember.”
Overwhelmed, Sarah looked back and forth between the two. Her lover was a vampire, and her father had returned fromthedead.
“How were you turned to a vampire, Papa?” she asked. “How did you become whatyouare?”
“The patient from France. You remember? The friend that Mr. Montmarche begged me to see.” His mouth twisted and his tone turned to a sneer. “My kindness was repaid by betrayal. He was a vampire, burned by the sun. His skin was blackened and falling away, and he was desperate for blood. He drained me nearly untodeath.”
Sarah shuddered at his words, for the images they conjured were ghastly. She recalled the dead patients at King’s College, their wrists torn open,bloodless.
“Papa,” she said, pouring her sadness and empathy into thatsingleword.
With a sigh, her father reached out for her. Beside her Killian tensed, ready to leap to herprotection.
To protect her from herfather.
She edged around Killian, weaving her fingers through his, then reached out with her free hand to her father. “You cannot know,” she whispered to Killian. “I thought him dead, and here he is. Alive.” She swallowed against the lump that clogged her throat. “I thought I would never see him again. I never even had a body to bury.” She paused. “I thought I wasalone.”
Laying his hand on her back, Killian said nothing, but she could feel the tension that pulsed beneath the surface, sense the beast he had warned her lurked beneath the thin veneer. He did not trust her father, and she understood that, understood his need to holdhersafe.
Warily, her father approached and took her hand. Tears traced along her cheeks. She held the hands ofbothmen.
“You say he drained you nearly unto death, but how is it that you became what he was?” she asked herfather.
“Montmarche’s friend—” her father made a dull laugh “—you know, I never did learn his name. Well, he gave me the choice. To die, or to take his blood and live. I chose life. But I did not understand. Not until I woke with the thirst.” He exhaled sharply through his nostrils. “He was long gone by then, and I was left with the thirst and a thousandquestions.”
Killian made a small sound of disgust. “The newly made making more newly made. A dangerousfolly.”