Immortal Love

“Is that so?” Beatriz asked.

“No,” Becquer said. “I did not send Federico.”

“Liar.” Cupping Becquer’s face in her hands, Beatriz forced him to look at her. Becquer’s eyes turned vacant under her stare, then his arms grew limp.

“Stop it! He’s telling the truth.”

I reached for her as I screamed. Without looking, Beatriz swung her right arm and hit me hard on the chest, sending me crashing to the floor.

Fighting the blackness that threatened to engulf me, I opened my eyes. Cesar was looking down on me, his hand extended. He shrugged when I refused it and watched as I scrambled to my feet.

“No. You didn’t tell Federico.” Beatriz released Becquer, who fell back against the pillow. Blinking repeatedly, Becquer sat up. A sigh of relief escaped his lips when he met my eyes.

“You didn’t tell him,” Beatriz repeated staring at me. “But you told her.”

“He didn’t. I guessed it on my own.” I took a step forward, but Cesar grabbed my arm, holding me back.

Ignoring me, Beatriz bent over Becquer and pinned him to the bed. “What else did you tell her?” she whispered, her voice tense with hate. “Did you tell her that you loved her?”

“Let Carla go,” Becquer said, addressing Cesar. “She has nothing to do with us.”

“You’re right. She hasn’t. But I can’t let her go. She knows too much.”

“Cesar is right,” Beatriz added. “And anyway, why would you care what is to become of her?”

“Oh, I see,” she continued when he said nothing. “You think you’re in love with her, don’t you?” She laughed. “You are pathetic. After all the women you have seduced over the years, after all your broken promises, you still believe you are capable of love?”

“Come on, Beatriz. Kill him already. We’re wasting time.” Cesar sounded bored.

“Don’t listen to him,” Becquer spoke, his voice even. “I have told the Elders that I changed you, as I promised, so they will let you live. But if you kill me — ”

“What about her?” Beatriz asked. “Will she lie for me too?”

No, the answer came to my mind unbidden. Anger spilling over the walls I was trying to erect to keep Beatriz from reading my feelings.

Remember, it was you who condemned him. As her voice yelled in my mind, she bent over Becquer and sank her long canines into his unprotected neck.

I screamed and fought the tight grip of Cesar’s arms around me. As if in answer to my plea, the loud, jarring playing of an electric guitar filled the room, drowning my cries and Cesar’s laughter.

Beatriz looked up toward the chair, toward the sound of Ryan’s phone coming from my handbag. Becquer’s arm shot forward and struck her neck. As her blood splattered over the white sheets, he drew her to him.

Releasing me, Cesar bolted and pulled Beatriz from Becquer.

Her hands clapping her neck where blood still poured out, Beatriz staggered against the chair where she collapsed.

Sitting up, Becquer challenged Cesar with his stare. In his hands, he held a shard of glass stained in blood. A piece of the vase he must have hidden before the nurses came to stop his last attempt to end his life.

Cesar laughed. “A piece of glass? Do you really think you can stop me with that, you pathetic mortal?”

His arm lashed as he spoke. But Becquer blocked his attack and when Cesar moved back, his hand was bleeding.

Cesar swore. “You bastard. You drank from her.”

Becquer said nothing. On his face, as pale as marble, only his eyes seemed alive, intent on Cesar. One moment passed, then his arm shook, and I knew his strength was wavering.

I called to Cesar to distract him and rushed toward Becquer. But before I could reach him, I felt the pressure of Cesar’s mind on mine, willing me to stop. Unable to move, I watched as Cesar grabbed Becquer’s arm. I heard the cracking sound of the bone breaking, and then saw Becquer’s hand open, releasing the shard.

Cesar snarled. “Tell me Becquer, do you prefer to die now or should I kill your ladylove first?”

Cradling his broken arm, Becquer said nothing.

“This is not how it was supposed to be.” Cesar pointed at Beatriz, who was slumped on the chair, unconscious or dead I was not sure. “She was supposed to kill you.”

“Let me guess,” Becquer said, the effort to speak showing in the way his words came out, one by one and broken. “You will kill me now, but she will take the blame when you tell the Elders. In your version, Beatriz attacked me. You tried to stop her but were too late to save me, and in the fight that ensued, you killed Beatriz unwillingly. A dead Beatriz suits you fine because, dead, she cannot confess she stole my blood or that it was you who asked her to kill me.”

“Precisely.”

Cesar raised his arm once more, his flat hand a mortal weapon aimed at Becquer’s chest, and I could do nothing but watch and wait for the fatal blow that would stop his heart. Only it never happened because someone else entered the room, too fast for me to see, and grabbed Cesar’s arm as it struck.

Cesar turned. His eyes widened when he saw the man holding him. “Alexander,” he said, his voice slightly off.

“You have disobeyed our orders,” the man said, “thus you will answer to us now.”

The metallic edge of his voice broke the wall that immobilized me. Barely aware of the two immortals dressed in black who had materialized in the room and were carrying Cesar away, I ran to Becquer’s side calling his name. But Becquer, pale and still, didn’t stir.

“Becquer is not dead,” Alexander’s voice came from behind. “Just unconscious.”

I turned. Over his shoulder, I saw two different men, also in black, carrying Beatriz out of the room. Cesar was nowhere in sight.

“You must leave now, Carla,” Alexander said, not unkindly.

I didn’t move. “You saved Becquer’s life, and I’m grateful. But I won’t leave him.”

“You must,” he insisted and his voice had the authority of an ancient king’s. “Becquer’s sentence has been revoked for we are aware that Beatriz stole Becquer’s blood. He’s safe with us.”

With the uncanny speed immortals moved, he rushed by me. Sitting by Becquer’s side, grabbed his broken arm, and snapped the bone in place. Then he bent over and kissed him on the lips.

He’s changing him. He’s making him an immortal. The thought startled me. If Becquer became an immortal, I could not be with him, I could not even talk to him because I wouldn’t trust him.

I jumped forward. “No.”

I grabbed Alexander’s arm. A lame attempt on my part, for his muscles felt like iron under my hand. Yet Alexander did stop and turned to face me. The drop of blood glowing bright red on his lips confirmed my suspicion.

“May I talk with him first?” My voice, weak with wanting, was barely audible.

Alexander shook his head. “I wouldn’t recommend waking him up. His body is healing too fast for a mortal’s consciousness to endure.”

“So, he’s mortal still?”

“For now. But if you excuse me — ”

“Please, don’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because … ” Desperate, I looked around, and my eyes met the machine that was supposed to read Becquer’s vitals but that was now frozen displaying the numbers of its last reading. The numbers of a mortal Becquer. What would they read, I wondered, after he was no longer human? And that gave me the answer I was looking for. “Because if you do, Becquer would be miraculously healed by morning and that would have the doctors wondering.”

Alexander laughed. “They won’t ask any questions, believe me. I will see to it.”

If I had considered seeing Becquer after his change, Alexander’s casual acceptance that he manipulated humans’ minds reaffirmed my decision to stay away from immortals. If I wanted to say goodbye to Becquer, the only way to do so was to postpone his change.