The Black Swan Page 3
“Shall we see a play until it’s time for us to go?” While working under President Washington in New York City, they’d come to appreciate the theater.
“Let’s. I understand there’s a very fine production of Henry VI, Part 2 at the Lyceum.”
They purchased their tickets and found a box from which to enjoy the machinations of British nobility—something they assured each other would never occur in their beloved country.
* * * *
The play ended, and they strolled out into the thick fog of the chill London evening, speaking of what they had just seen.
And then, as fate would have it, they walked right into the “damned English vampyre.” Gabe was able to tell—the taste of the vampyre’s blood was in his mouth as if it were that night.
“Well, well, well. Who have we here?” The English vampyre didn’t appear to pay any attention to him. “Shall we dine?” His gaze was fastened on Remember, and there was a gloating note to his voice.
Gabe could feel his eyes glow red. This vampyre might be older, which might make him more powerful—although on the other hand, it might not—but that was Gabe’s black swan he was taunting. Before the vampyre knew what was happening, Gabe blurred the area surrounding them and attacked him. He drove his fist into the vampyre’s chest and tore out his heart. For a moment, the vampyre stared at him, horrified. His lips parted, as if he would speak, but in the end, all he could do was collapse into a heap of dust and ash in the gutter.
Gabe took out a handkerchief and wiped the blood off his hands. He nodded in satisfaction.
Just then a street sweeper came by, and oblivious to them, he swept away the English vampyre’s remains, mingling it with mud and manure.
“No!” Out of the heavy fog, a young woman launched herself at him, a silver knife in her hand. Fortunately, Remember grabbed her hand before she could sink the knife into Gabe’s heart.
“She’s his black swan,” Remember told him.
“That explains how she saw us. Christ. What do we do with her?”
She had collapsed and was weeping hysterically. Remember scooped her up into his arms. “We can’t leave her here, that’s for certain.”
“Well, we can’t take her to our hotel.”
“No,” Remember agreed. “We’d be thrown out on our ear.” He looked down at his feet. “Get her handbag, would you? Maybe something in there can tell us who she belongs to.”
“I belong to myself, you bastard,” she hissed, and too late Gabe realized she’d been playing them false. She twisted around and sank her teeth into Remember’s shoulder.
“Ow! Little witch!”
Gabe knew Remember wouldn’t do anything to a woman, but he had no qualms. He pulled her out of Remember’s hold, gripped her by her neck, and squeezed. Oh, not enough pressure to kill her, but enough to render her unconscious.
“Thanks, Gabriel.”
“You’re welcome.”
Remember stooped and retrieved her handbag and pulled open the drawstrings. “All that’s in here is a handkerchief, a pocket watch, and a train ticket to Bicester.”
“See if the watch is engraved.” The black swan started to regain consciousness, and he gave her a shake. “Hold still.”
She bared her teeth and tried to bite him.
“Listen to me,” he snarled. “If you don’t stop, I’ll wring your neck like a chicken’s and leave you here for the Peelers to find.”
She subsided, although she continued to give him hostile looks.
“All the watch says is, To my beloved daughter.”
“Not very much help.”
“No. Why don’t we just ask her where she’s from, Gabriel?”
Gabe studied the young woman. She was pretty enough when she wasn’t trying to stick a knife into his heart or bite him or Remember. Her blue black hair had spilled free of the chignon that had confined it, and her black eyes flashed with hatred. “If you tell us where you call home, we’ll return you to your people.”
“Why would I believe a Yank?”
“Mostly because you have no choice.”
She looked indecisive. “But you killed Hugh. How do I know you won’t kill me?” She worried her lower lip. “Why did you kill Hugh?”
“I was turned because of him and a bitch of a French vampyre.”
“Desiree?”
“I have no idea.”
“Hugh used to work with her. He always said he was fond of her.”
“It didn’t seem that way to me. He was annoyed when she bit me and then refused to complete the transference.”
“The what?”
“The act that would have made sure I lived past my first sunrise.”
She nodded. “So that’s what you Americans call it.”
“Why? What do you call it?”
She shrugged. “I’ve always heard it called the metamorphosis.”
“Well, whatever you call it, I think it was just as well it wasn’t completed, Gabriel,” Remember said. “You’re much better off with me.”
“Yes I am.”
A frown furrowed her brow. “But if it wasn’t completed, how did you survive?”
“My black swan took care of me.”
For a second the girl looked wistful, but then her scowl returned. “Was Desiree very pretty?”
“I couldn’t say. She only stayed around long enough to do the deed, and then she left.”
“You make it sound as if she took your virginity.”
“That isn’t amusing.”
Remember bit his lip, trying not to laugh.
“Remember.”
Remember cleared his throat. “I know. Not amusing.” He tipped up the black swan’s chin so she had to meet his eyes. “What’s your name?”
“Eloise Poynter.” Her face crumpled. Gabe tightened his grip on her hands. He wasn’t falling for that again. She glared up at him. “I want to go home,” she said sullenly.
“Tell us where.”
“King’s End, Bicester.”
“That explains the train ticket,” Remember murmured.
“But not why she had one. She’s a little thing. Her vampyre would have been able to transport her quite easily.”
“I’m not little. And stop talking about me as if I’m not here.”
Gabe turned her head so she had to meet his gaze and peered into her eyes.
“What…what are you doing?”
“Nothing you need to be concerned about.” He’d got the information he needed, so he flung her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes and held out his arm to Remember.
“I take it we’re traveling vampyre fashion?”
“Of course.”
Remember looked unhappy about it, but he stepped into Gabe’s embrace.
Gabe turned his head and brushed a kiss over Remember’s mouth. “It won’t take us long. England isn’t as big as our country.”
“Can we please get going? I’m about to vomit,” Eloise said sulkily. She gave a satisfying gasp when he heaved her back over his shoulder and set her down in front of the small cottage. “How did you—”
“Next time, don’t discount what a Yank can do. Remember?”
“Why do you keep asking me if I remember?” Eloise scowled at him again—that seemed to be her favorite expression—but he had no intention of answering her.
“Aren’t we going to wait until she’s safely inside?” Remember asked.
“If we must?”
Remember tugged a lock of Gabe’s dark hair. Gabe enjoyed the feeling. He always had, and he’d missed it during the years when Remember had felt it was best if they didn’t touch. That was one thing about being turned that he found he couldn’t regret: they were free to love each other, and no one dared say nay to them.
“Hurry, girl,” he instructed Eloise.
She gave them a final glance, then raced up the path. The door wasn’t locked, and she yanked it open, got herself inside, and slammed it shut behind her.
Gabe could hear muff
led complaints, then questions, then happy welcoming. He leaned against Remember. “Can we go now?”
“Yes.” Remember brushed his lips over Gabe’s.
Gabe wrapped Remember in his arms, and they returned to their hotel to pack and check out. Once that was done, they would start their journey back to America.
* * * *
Chapter 5
The years passed and Gabe and Remember continued to serve their country diligently. But…
They couldn’t return home—chances were there might be someone still alive who would recognize them and question how they could still be alive and looking much the same as when they’d left Braddockville those many years ago—but thanks to Mother Morwen, they still managed to learn of how their children fared.
Remember perused the latest letter to arrive from their village—which was growing into a fair-sized town—and he looked up, grinning. “My George and your little Mary got married.”
“What, to each other?”
He removed his hat and hit Gabe over the head with it. “Yes, to each other!”
“Well, I’ll be.”
“That…that makes us related, Gabriel. Do you mind?”
“I think it’s wonderful.”
Remember beamed at him, and Gabe couldn’t help himself. He hugged his good friend.
* * * *
A year later they received another letter. “Who’d have thought? We’re going to be granddads, Gabriel!” Remember frowned. “I don’t look old enough to have grandchildren.”
No, truth be told, Remember didn’t look more than a handful of years older than when they’d left for the war. He hadn’t wanted to be turned, but he also didn’t want to leave Gabe without someone to protect him when necessary. So from time to time, Gabe would offer him some of his own blood. They’d realized that by doing this, Remember healed more quickly and aged more slowly.
Their grandchildren had grandchildren of their own, and once again their lines converged, as Silas and Phoebe married.
“It would be pleasurable if we could see them,” Gabe mused as they headed out on yet another assignment.
“Aye, that it would. Well, perhaps one day.” Remember sighed, and then clapped his heels to his horse’s side and they rode on through the night.
* * * *
Chapter 6
As President Washington had informed them, once he was no longer in office, knowledge of Gabe was passed from one Secretary of War to the next: Samuel Dexter, Henry Dearborn, William Eustis…the list went on and on. From the First Barbary War to the War of 1812 to the Mexican-American War, and finally to the worst war of all—the War Between the States, which pitted brother against brother.
* * * *
Gabe and Remember worked hard. Sometimes the information they gathered resulted in a battle won. Sometimes the officers who received the information discounted it and followed their own inclinations, resulting in a battle lost along with numerous lives.
They just hoped that with each battle, each march, each new general replacing a previous one, that the war was growing closer to an end.
* * * *
By the end of June 1863, Gabe had gotten General Meade all the information he could gather. With that done, Remember secreted Gabe away in the cellar of the little house they’d let in the small town of Gettysburg.
On July 1, the battle commenced.
* * * *
Once night had fallen at the end of the first day’s battle, Gabe slipped out and visited the battlefield. He came across men from both sides who hadn’t been taken to the tents where the sawbones performed surgery. He fed from the ones who were too far gone to last until an ambulance wagon came to take them behind the lines.
So many were dying. Whether Billy Yank or Johnny Reb, it made no matter. Gabe wanted nothing more than to bring them ease, and he saw to it they were unafraid as they crossed over to the Promised Land.
He returned to their house to find Remember asleep in the bed they occasionally shared. Gabe knew Remember would need to rise soon. He brushed a kiss over his friend’s lips.
“Hmm?”
“Hush, love. Sleep a little longer.”
Remember made a consenting sound and slipped back into slumber. Gabe stroked his cheek, then went down to the cellar.
* * * *
At the end of the second day, he again wandered the battlefield. The moon wasn’t quite full, but that didn’t matter. Gabe could see quite well.
So many men. So many, many men.
Eventually, he licked the blood off his lips. It was time to have Remember share some of his blood again. Gabe smiled. Sharing his blood with Remember carried the added bonus of some very rousing sex. Gabe had missed it of late. They’d both been busy.
However, the sun would be rising soon, and Remember was nowhere to be found. He was most likely aiding the surgeons who worked nonstop on an unending river of casualties. He needed to remain visible.
There would be time on the morrow to give Remember some of his blood. And perhaps they’d find some time to dally as well.
They’d gradually gone from pleasuring each other with hands and mouths to the depths of their bodies. Gabe knew his strength had increased with becoming a vampyre, so he’d encouraged Remember to mount him.
That first time, Remember had slicked them both up and then eased his manhood into Gabe with exquisite care. After a few thrusts, he’d sparked something within Gabe, causing Gabe to howl like a banshee and spill his essence—oddly enough, blood-red, and hadn’t it startled them the first time Gabe had climaxed after he’d been newly turned?
Of course, Remember, being Remember, wanted to experience what had driven Gabe wild, and so they’d exchanged roles.
“No need to be careful of me, Gabriel. I’m no lass to be treated like a piece of fine china.”
“Perhaps not, but you are fine.” Gabe had kissed the side of his neck, running his tongue over the spot he occasionally would drink from—over the years he’d learned control and could drink without endangering his friend—although he didn’t pierce Remember’s throat just then. He’d slid into that hot, tight passage, and knew this was what Paradise was like. Remember had quivered and quaked, and it made Gabe proud how quickly he’d made his friend spend.
It had been some time since they’d last coupled—war often got in the way of their lovemaking—but they’d do it again soon, perhaps on the morrow.
A yawn disrupted Gabe’s smile, and he continued on to their house.
* * * *
Only as it turned out, he had imbibed so much blood that the next night he roused only sluggishly. He blinked at the lid that protected him from stray sunbeams that sometimes reached down even into the cellar. I think I’ll sleep through this night.
* * * *
Something jarred him awake in the early morning hours. He shoved the lid off the box and sat up, stretching his senses.
Since that first evening when Remember had kissed Gabe’s blood from his mouth, Gabe had had a mental connection with Remember. Now it was tenuous—barely there.
Something was very wrong.
He scrambled to get out of the box, causing it to tip over, but he didn’t care. He seized his cloak and flung it around his shoulders.
The sun would be rising soon, but bugger that. Remember needed him.
Gabe pulled the hood of his cloak over his head and dashed up the stairs and out of the house. For the three days that the battle had raged, the weather had been fine. Now it was pouring rain, as if nature wept, mourning man’s actions.
And while there was no sunlight to roast him to a crisp, it was still daylight, and he’d need to move fast.
“Have you seen Remember Littlebury?”
One soldier after another looked at him blankly, still in shock from the ferocity of the battle, and then shook their heads.
Finally, he came across one man who said, “Hospital tent.”
“He’s helping the doctors?”
“No. The last I saw of
him, he was waiting his turn with them.”
Oh God. Gabe raced through the rain, dodging from one tent to another, desperately seeking his friend.
And then a whisper in his mind drew him to the farthest tent. More terrified than he had ever been, he reached out a hand and drew back the flap.
A soft moan greeted him.
“Remember?”
“Gabriel.” The one word, barely audible, was rife with pain.
Gabe ducked into the tent. It was dark inside, but he didn’t need any form of illumination. He could spot Remember lying on a bloodstained cot set up in the corner. He wasn’t the sole occupant of the tent, but he was the only one who was conscious.
The closer Gabe drew to Remember, the more horrified he became.
He stood above his dearest, closest, most beloved friend, biting his lips to keep from sobbing aloud. He sank to his knees.
“Oh God, Remember. What have they done to you?” An arm was gone at the shoulder, the bandage soaked with the blood that still dripped from the wound. A leg was gone at the hip, and its bandage was in much the same condition as the other.
“The ambulance wagon I was driving took a direct hit from a cannonball. I was thrown from the seat and under the horses’ hooves. When I came to, it was to the sawbones taking off my leg.”
“Oh God.” Gabe had seen men injured in battle, had seen bodies after limbs and chunks of flesh had been blown off, but this was so much more horrifying, because it had been done to his friend.
The worst of the matter was if he’d been available—if he’d gotten to Remember before the sawbones, he knew he could have saved his friend from this atrocity. Now, though…
“Do you…do you want some water? I’ll get you some water.”
Remember shook his head. “This is the end for me, Gabriel.”
“No!”
“Don’t let this stop you.”
“What…?”
“You have to continue your work. Promise me you will.”
“You trust me to keep any promise I make when I see what they’ve done to you?”
“I do. You’re a good man.”
“I’m a vampyre.”
“You’re good, whatever you are.” His voice was growing faint. “Gabriel?”