The Dark Prince(The Dark Light Series #2)(20)
"That was uncalled for," I mumble casting my glassy eyes down to my knotted hands on the comforter.
"Yeah it was. And you know what? That's the reality. All of this is uncalled for." Dorian's breathing is rapid as if he's just run the length of the apartment complex. But I know he is not physically winded. He's enraged and trying to get his emotions in check before he explodes.
He looks back up at me with remorseful eyes, searching for understanding. "You have no idea what it's like, Gabriella," he whispers.
I gaze at my Dark lover, equally pained at his erratic desperation. "Then tell me."
Dorian shakes his head a bit, trying to dispel the memories that still haunt him. He can't bring himself to say it. We sit for several minutes in silence, him looking out into the night through the window, me looking at him, trying to beckon him to talk to me. Finally Dorian turns his head to me, and his icy cold guise has thawed. My Dorian has come back to me.
"When my father summoned me, I knew there would be consequences for my omissions. No one defies the king. I was certain that I would be put to death and I was accepting of it." Dorian looks away for a bit as if he can't look his truth in the eye. "But as he stared down at me, so cold and callous- deadened- I became afraid. I didn't want to die. I hadn't even lived yet. Over 200 years and I still felt like something was missing."
He runs a hand over his solemn face. "I was a coward, Gabriella. I should have chosen death. But as I looked up at my father, as I saw the contempt, the disgust, the sheer hatred he had for me, I was afraid. I couldn't do it."
The thought that Dorian could be afraid of anything brings me up short. He is so strong, so confident. To me, he's invincible. Yet, every time he has mentioned his father, he has been visibly disturbed. How could he be frightened of his own father? What kind of monster is he?
"What happened to you?" I whisper, understanding just an inkling of Dorian's grief.
Dorian shakes his head, refusing to speak about the terrors that plague him.
"Please," I beg. "Please don't shut me out."
He turns to me, his face twisted with disgust. "What if I told you that my own father is the epitome of evil? So revolted by his own son that he personally carried out my sentence? That he took pleasure in stripping away my power, leaving me a pathetic, lifeless shell? And if given the chance, would be more than happy to end me for good?"
I bite my bottom lip to keep it from trembling. My eyes water but I refuse to acknowledge the tears. I need to be strong for Dorian. This moment isn't about my agony, it's about his.
"Then I'd say that he is the worst kind of monster that ever existed. And that you are so much better, so much stronger than he is," I croak with a wavering voice.
Dorian shakes his head, refusing to believe my words. "I have taken dozens of lives. Death meant nothing to me. I've sucked the life out of more people than I can remember. I've enjoyed the brutality. I was addicted to it. The thrill of the hunt, chasing them down only made me want to slaughter them more. I was like a bloodthirsty animal. Tell me, does that sound like someone that deserves love or death?"
Slowly, I extend my hand towards him, holding my breath and preparing for his rejection. He remains still, and I let my hand rest on his. "Everyone deserves love, Dorian."
"Really?" he asks incredulously. "Serial killers? Terrorists? Rapists? Do they deserve love? Because I am no better than them."
I mull over Dorian's question in my head. Could I love a serial killer or a rapist? No, absolutely not. Those people deserve nothing but a slow, torturous death. Dorian is not like them. He is not even a person at all. He is the Dark Prince, a supernatural magic force of evil. And he does deserve love. Who he is expected to be and the man before me, the man that I love, are not aligned, regardless of what he's done.
"You are not them, Dorian. You are good. I don't care what you did before. The Dorian I know is good." I let my hand stroke his beautiful, forlorn face. "Dealing with this, trying to help Tammy, brought it all back to the surface for you, huh?"
"Yes," he nods slowly.
"I should have never asked you to get involved. I was desperate and I wasn't thinking straight. I'm sorry." Shit. I should have been more sensitive instead of just assuming Dorian could do it.
"No," he shakes his head. "It is not your fault. I should have been stronger."
I scoot closer to him and awkwardly try to wrap my arms around his tense, rigid body. "Don't say that. You are strong. It's okay to be afraid, Dorian."
His glazed eyes focus on nothing in particular. "When I saw her, staring blankly, unable to talk, move, anything … it reminded me of myself. It was like looking down and seeing your worst nightmare. But your worst nightmare is you."
"You don't have to live that anymore," I whisper gently, rubbing his back. I begin to feel him release some of the tension that binds him so tightly. "You're not that person anymore. You're free."
Dorian turns his body towards mine, his eyes searching for something in my mask of a reassuring smile. Because he knows the truth; he knows how I really feel. I'm just as afraid as he is. No one is really free, not until the killer is found. And even then, we are all slaves to our alliances, our heritage. We are slaves to the magic that flows through our veins. Whether we are taught to kill or taught to heal, taught to love or taught to hate, we have to choose a side.
And as I squeeze Dorian tight, I know that my own choice will annihilate me. I can't lose him by aligning with the Light, pledging to go against the Dark that threaten to extract their power. Yet I could never side with the Dark, abandoning everything my parents, both biological and adopted, taught me and become a ruthless savage. I am stuck, frozen in my own petrification, just like Dorian. And right now, not even his love can fix me.
Chapter Nine
"Hey Carmen, I'll be back in the office doing some paperwork. Think you can hold it down out here?"
"Sure, Gabs. I've got it!" she beams proudly.
It's been two months since I've started my new job as manager at Cashmere. Two months of rooming with Morgan in our plush new apartment at Paralia. And two months since Tammy, Jared's mom, was petrified by an evil, sadistic Warlock who lusts for my blood.
Luckily, running a high end boutique is a lot more time consuming and distracting than I initially thought, but I enjoy the challenge. Anything to stifle the immense guilt I feel for what happened to Tammy. And to get my mind off of Dorian, who has thrust himself into hunting the vicious predator, and as a result, has been keeping a little distance between us. I can't stand it, but I know it's for my own good. Being so close, breathing me, is dangerous for the both of us. Not to mention the insatiable sexual need we have for each other. It's nearly impossible to think of anything else, or resist drinking in too much.
Though we talk daily, our conjugal visits have been limited to only a few times a week. I can't help but feel somewhat disjointed from him. I know he loves me but my body craves him just as much as my heart does. Maybe even more.
I open my email and skim through the countless messages from designers, vendors and other business-related matters. Surprisingly, I've been doing well with staying on top of it all, especially since I hired Carmen, Miguel's style savvy sister, as my personal assistant and right hand. She's been a huge asset and without her, I think I would have been as lost as a whore in church with all the fashion terminology.
My face instantly brightens when I come across an email from Dorian. I open it with haste, wondering if it's one of the more risqué notes we've been exchanging during our days apart. They've been hot enough to torture me into the late hours of the night yet the promise of reenacting each scenario upon our next encounter has been more than worth it.
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SUBJECT: Tonight
Gabriella,
My love, an urgent matter has arisen and I won't be able to see you tonight. I will call you as soon as I can, but I cannot say when that will be.
Be especially careful and diligent until I see you. Understand what I am saying, Gabriella. I will contact you when I can.
I love you,
D
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Damn it! What the hell is going on? I know Dorian needs me to read between the lines. Something is going down and he wants me to be careful. I have to trust him in this. I read the cryptic email again just to be certain that I'm not missing something. Should I reply? Should I call him? No. He said he'd contact me. Before I can worry myself into an early grave, my cell phone chimes to life. I nearly break my neck trying to answer it, praying that it's Dorian, yet discover that it's Morgan. I try to swallow the feelings of disappointment before answering.
"Hey Morg, what's up?" I say, trying to muster a few ounces of enthusiasm.
"Just working, girl. I wanted to hit you up real quick to see what's up for tonight. I was thinking … we should have a little housewarming dinner at the apartment, just our close circle, as a way to maybe get Jared and James out for a little while. They've been so stressed; I think a Friday night of fun would be good for them."