Blood Red

Lauren waited for Maggie to correct her.

She didn’t.

It was over, Mark thought

By the time he returned to Montresse House, it was very late and the house was quiet.

He spent a long time showering, and as he tried to wash away more than just the soot—seeking to dispel the hatred and bitterness that had ruled him for so long—he kept telling himself that it was over. Really over. Stephan was dead.

But he felt hollow. Drained.

When he stepped out of the shower, he saw that he was just about healed already. The outside didn’t matter, though.

He felt as if hid insides were all torn apart.

He should have told her.

But he hadn’t been honest and she’d found out on her own, and. now he’d lost her.

No, he’d never really had her.

He lay down in bed, glad that he could open the doors to the balcony and feel the soft breeze wash over him. Maybe when he closed his eyes he would no longer dream.

No longer see her walking toward him, all in white. See her smile.

Katya had loved him, trusted him enough to tell him the truth about what had happened. And though he hadn’t believed her at first, he had believed in her. He had fought with Stephan over what he had done to her, and it had been who had turned him. It was something Stephan had relished…until he had realized that it didn’t matter to the two of them. They would have their wedding, and they would have it in a church. When she had been vulnerable and unaware, Stephan had been able to hypnotize Katya. But not after she had realized what he was and what he was doing. She’d had a will of steel.

But his father…

God, his father! So strong, so loving, so proud. He’d told Mark what had happening, but Mark had never imagined his father would so willingly give up his own life to slay Mark’s intended bride. He hadn’t known that his son had been turned as well, or that there were ways to fight the evil nature of their new way of being.

So what now? Mark asked himself. Now that it was over.

Lauren would leave. She wopuld be going home with Heidi, though Deanna…

There was no question. She was staying.

With Jonas, who had turned out to be the real deal.

He closed his eyes; he needed to sleep. Needed to stop tormenting himself.

He froze suddenly, aware that his door had opened. He carefully opened one eye.

Lauren was walking toward the bed. Softly, silently. She smelled of soap and shampoo and simple sweetness. She was wearing a white silky nightgown, her hair like a sunset against it.

She paused, then lay down at his side and rose up on one elbow, staring at him.

“There will be no more keeping the truth from me—the absolute, complete and total truth—ever again,” she told him.

He opened his eyes. She had sounded so fierce, but there was a slight smile curving her lips.

“Lauren…”

“Shut up and listen. I thought I’d never been more afraid in my life than when I first got out there tonight. But then…I thought I had lost you, and it was a fear that was ten times more terrible. So here’s the thing. Don’t protect my feelings. Even if I’m going to be angry.”

“I was, er, actually a little worried about you being more than angry if I told you the truth about myself,” he said softly.

“I admit it. At one point I might have been afraid of you. But now…I think we’ve gotten to know each other really well, even if it’s been in a short but very intense amount of time.”

He smiled, then turned on her fiercely. “What part about me telling you to stay in this house didn’t you understand?” he demanded.

“I had to go,” she protested.

“Not without telling me.”

“But you might have stopped me,” she said.

“Damn right.”

She smiled, and her lashes fell; then her eyes rose to meet his again. “Seriously, Deanna and Heidi…I couldn’t risk their lives. We still don’t know if Susan is going to make it or not.”

“I believe she will,” he said firmly.

“The point is—” she began.

“The point is that you don’t listen,” he teased her.

“The point is that from now on I always get the truth from you,” she told him.