Pushing away the thought and shoving open the door, she viewed the room he used when she didn't command his company in her bed.
She hadn't come in here since he'd moved in. Seeing his few clothes hung in the closet, she put the letters on the dresser so she could run her fingers over the items, like the blue shirt he'd be wearing for the dinner. In the dresser she found neatly folded socks, underwear, spare belt, a few T-shirts and pairs of jeans. It made her chest hurt. But she stood there, the top drawer open, laying her palm on the T-shirt he'd last worn to work in the yard. It had a design from some kind of rock band on it, maybe a concert he'd attended, or maybe just something he'd picked up from a secondhand store. Most of his clothes, while in good shape and well-fitted, seemed likely to have been gotten that way. She ran her fingertips over the jeans, the pockets and front seam, the upper leg, thinking of how his body felt under the worn denim.
When she turned toward the bed, she stopped, nonplussed to find she'd picked up the T-shirt and was holding it in her hand. She brought it to her face and almost moaned as the cool softness of the fabric enveloped her throbbing forehead, her nose and lips buried in the cloth.
Rex had told her about Thomas. Lyssa had not felt well when she rose just before sunset that day. As Rex watched her, something in his eyes crawled into her stomach, making the nausea worse. Vampires never felt sick, but she didn't have energy to spare to worry about that, because he was in one of his erratic, pacing moods. She knew she needed to be alert, needed to appear calm and steady, to handle whatever brutal mischief he might foment. But she was so tired.
It had been a few months since she'd sent Thomas to the monastery. She'd visited him several times there, and she wanted him back. Wanted to stay with him or bring him back. It was time. Rex could stay or go, but she was bringing back her servant.
When Rex started talking about Carnal, she was in no mood to bear it. She retorted as she had countless times before. Carnal was simply using him, wanting to advance himself on Rex's power.
"He told me you'd say something like that." Rex stared at her. She remembered a time when the dark eyes on either side of that aquiline nose had been provocative and mesmerizing to her. "You try to poison me against him. But I'm smarter than you. You tried to poison my heart, but I've done it to you first. And to your pious monk."
She laid her brush down, stared at him. "What are you talking about?"
"You haven't been visiting your monk's mind lately. He's been very naughty." Rex grinned, propping an arm on the windowsill. He was distracted, watching for the sun to set through the crack. He and Carnal would go out tonight and she would be blissfully alone for the evening, but at the moment she needed his mind here.
"Rex, what are you talking about?"
But she thought she knew. On one of her visits, Thomas had tried to make her smile. Told her of a dream he'd had of a young girl brings ing him a bouquet of wildflowers, begging for his help. Her brother was dying and had asked for the Last Rites. "You must come, Father. Right now. Please…"
"In my dream, my lady, I went to her room, though I tried to explain I was not a priest. There was no brother there. She put her back against the door and removed her blouse. She had beautiful black hair, generous hips, a full bosom ..."
"Ah, this is sounding nothing like your skinny Mistress, my monk."
Thomas had smiled, taken her hand. "I could not resist her in my dreams, my lady.. She knew me, took me places I have not been in a while. I awoke here. It has been a long time since I'd had such a dream."
Rex was talking. "There's an herb with a white and gold flower, one of those long names no one can pronounce. It acts like a hallucinogen. Carnal told me of it. He has a great deal of wisdom for such a young vampire. Of course, I think he keeps questionable company. He likes to play with vampire hunters. But he doesn't know how I used the knowledge he gave me. That's between you and me."
On her last visit, Thomas had not felt well. A flu bug, so she'd not fed from him as she had during times past. She was getting her blood elsewhere of course, but they'd both wanted the connection, the reminder of the bond they shared that must sustain them over a distance. That last time, she'd felt his hot forehead and simply held his hand, sitting in the garden at the monastery, talking about things they enjoyed, not talking about things too painful to discuss. When she'd left, she told him she was going to bring him home, even if she had to throw Rex out.
"You fed from him, didn't you?" Rex turned from the window, studied her. "Each time you go to see that human you love more than me, you feed from him, while you have denied me your blood as well as your body since the night he tried to take my life. Well, you may go to him, die together."
She thought her heart had been ripped out the night Rex had allowed Carnal to rape her. But whenever a person thought she'd been scarred to the depths of her soul, there were even deeper wells to plumb.
If he'd only poisoned her, perhaps she wouldn't have done what she did. After what he'd allowed Carnal to do, she knew there was nothing left of the love between them. But Thomas… He'd taken Thomas from her, made Thomas suffer only for the crime of loving her too much. She hadn't deserved Thomas, but Thomas deserved justice.
A quiet calm had stolen over her, and she'd known it was time. In fact, since the night in the dungeon, it had been a countdown, and perhaps the nausea in her stomach was just the timer going off, telling her. She'd risen up from the chair, taken two steps…
A moment later, there was just a body on the floor, a crushed heart in her hand. Rex's empty eyes stared at her in disbelief as she drew back the curtains and stood back, watching the last of him turn to ash on a carpet she would burn.
* * *
Chapter Twenty-four
No matter her reputation, the Council would have had to act against such a transgression. At the least, her Region would have been taken from her. It was Thomas who had suggested the course of action.
I'm dying, my lady. Tell them I killed Rex when he was off guard. They all knew we did not get along well. They also all knew he'd gotten unstable, no matter what they claimed to your face. Tell them you killed me.
She'd thought of a hundred other options, none of which would have adequately protected the three hundred vampires in her territory. Things were too unstable. Thomas had been right, and she'd hated the truth of his words even as she'd finally capitulated. She severed their link and laid the blame for Rex's death square on the shoulders of the man who'd served her loyally to the end. She'd put magical protection on the monastery, made it effectively disappear from the sight of the vampire world until Thomas's death in case Rex had ever told anyone like Carnal its location, but that had seemed woefully inadequate compared to her servant's last gift of sacrifice.
Perhaps the burning of souls wasn't punishment. Perhaps it was Hell's way of doing what she had done, taken something forever ruined and removed it from existence, as if that could fix anything. If only the memories could be burned with the body.
She sank down on Jacob's bed, lying down. Bran showed his familiarity with the room by jumping up behind her and lying along her back, a comfortable bulwark. Turning her face into the pillow, she smelled Jacob. His aftershave, the striped soap he used with the clean scent it said it had in the commercials. The smell of his skin. Her joints were aching, keeping up an alternating staccato with the drumming in her head.
Thomas had gone on to his God. Cleansed, pure, the painful fire in his blood likely rinsed away with the cool touch of holy water.
When she broke his arm, had Jacob seen a light in her eyes like she'd seen in Rex's? Was it coming to that? Was she becoming so lost in this disease she no longer could see past it? Was she making up her own reality, her own idea of what was a threat? Perhaps there was nothing left for her to do and she could go. Maybe everyone wanted her to go. Maybe it didn't matter. Maybe it just needed to be over.
Opening Mason's letter, she unfolded it, still lying on her side so the creased paper sat on the mattress and she could skim it with half-closed eyes.
He wished her well, the desert vampire rarely seen by any of his own kind. This was the first missive she'd had from him in over twenty years. They'd once been close, long before Rex. But Mason hadn't believed in the dream of Council and civilized behavior for vampires. He didn't care enough to try anything different either, and so they'd parted ways. He just wanted to be left alone in his barren world.
Typical for Mason, he cut right to the purpose of the letter:
You and Rex were the monarchy of us all for nearly a century. You, not Rex, helped set up the Council with its rules, because you know a king and queen are only as good as the two individuals involved. But you are still a queen, Lady Lyssa. I will tell you now what I should have told you long ago. I consider you my liege. If our world forever could be ruled under your justice, there would be no need of Councils and elaborate laws. Rex had deteriorated to the point his passing was a blessing, however it occurred. If I could absolve you of any guilt you carry, I would. Give you a penance or a rosary to say so you would worry on it no more.
I know pressure on you to remarry will be fierce, my fellow vampires crudely thinking their seed might find fertile soil. I do not think you are barren, my lady, if I may be so bold. I simply think there is no man on this earth who is worthy of being a father to a child of your making and your body knows it. I also know a threat is brewing against all you have built, though I've not yet pinpointed the shape of it. I have come out of my sandbox, as you always call it, and am keeping my ears open.