He took another deep breath and tried not to stroke himself within her hand. She still held him in a firm grip, not too tight, just right.
Grace, you’re so beautiful.
From a distance, as though far below, he heard her. I’m not beautiful. I’ve done something terrible.
He couldn’t imagine what Grace would consider terrible. Telling a lie? Not being polite?
The dark gray mist began to give way to a blue glow, which made sense since she was the blue variety of obsidian flame.
Suddenly he was surrounded by all that blue light but he couldn’t exactly see anything, just light. He turned in a circle and as he stopped trying to see, as he just let the experience happen, he felt all that Grace was surrounding him. She was goodness, she was woman, she was hunger, need, fear, and quiet strength. More than anything she was afraid of the war, of death, of losing those she loved, of giving herself completely to anyone, of being known.
Yet here he was knowing her, sensing her, feeling her.
Then he felt a new sensation begin to flow, of guilt, her guilt, a terrible kind of guilt, and it beat on him in waves, so that all the blue dimmed and swirled through him in a kind of heavy dark wave. He saw how divided she was and that to some degree all the restraint she showed to the world was because of this seemingly infinite divide in her soul. She wanted to step forward, but guilt held her back, a deep feeling of unworthiness.
He could relate.
Mostly, she feared the discovery of what she was about to reveal. She trembled against him now.
Grace, let go, please. It’s okay. He pressed himself against her hip, pushing his cock up her fist. He overlaid her breasts with his arm and leaned in to kiss her neck. He tried to help her know that it was okay, whatever it was, it didn’t matter, would never matter to him. Every human, every vampire, no matter how noble, made mistakes.
He felt her release an agonized sigh, and what had been withheld, perhaps shielded deep in her memories, was of a child, an infant whom she had placed in the hands of another woman. Grace’s face was red and swollen from weeping.
You gave up a child.
Yes.
The blue glow turned pitch black and swirled around him. He felt her agony at this one act, which he could feel was early in her life when she was just a young woman.
But something didn’t seem right or feel right about this to Leto. There had to be more. He pressed her. There is more, I can feel it. Tell me. There’s nothing you can tell me that will change my feelings toward you or my good opinion of you.
She spoke within his mind, but the words rushed at him, too fast for him to catch each individual one. However, the context was clear. She’d been raped by death vampires when she was a young woman. They were drinking her to death when Thorne found her. He’d slaughtered them all and saved her life, but she’d become pregnant. All of it had been too much for her. She’d given the baby away. She never knew what became of the little girl. She hadn’t wanted to know.
So many pieces of Grace’s life fell into place for Leto, the choices she’d made, her incessant spiritual journey that never seemed to end. She’d been seeking absolution for the abandonment of a child; or perhaps she’d never adjusted from having been violated by what was truly evil.
He was wise enough to know that there was nothing he could say to ease her agony, her guilt, her pain. All of those dark feelings were part of her path, the one she had to travel alone. So he remained silent, his body still attached to hers, her hand still a gentle, firm touch.
No woman deserved such horror.
But how to offer comfort? What could he possibly do for her now? What did she need from him?
I am sorrier than you can possibly know that you’ve had to bear this, Grace. There are no words. I know that. Tell me what you would have me do now.
Maybe he’d said the right things because something in her seemed to relax or possibly to relent.
The color changed, lightening, and returning to her beautiful blue.
I just want to move forward. I want you to find the source of my obsidian power and break the sheath so that I can serve as I should have been serving all these centuries.
He turned in another circle. I can see nothing here, nothing like a tunnel. What if you tried to access the power? Meet me here, be with me here?
It felt like a strange request but he felt a shift within her body and her mind, because that’s the only way he could describe it. He felt her mind descend toward him.
Leto, I can see you within my soul, just a darker blue than my obsidian flame power. We share the same color.
A tremendous sensation of pleasure flowed through him as she approached.
He heard her moan aloud.
Are you feeling what I’m feeling, he asked.
Desire?
Yes. Can you sense what I want to do?