Читать книгу Death Calls - Caridad Pineiro - Страница 9

Immobile as a gargoyle, Ryder balanced high on the edge of the building across from the church, watching over Diana in the crowd below. He had been lucky. The funeral was in the early morning and the day overcast enough to allow him the freedom of attending.

Diana hadn’t called to tell him about her friend. She hadn’t left a message at the bar, either, although the bartender had made a point of relaying that Diana had been by and appeared to miss him. Funny how Diana could spill her guts to a stranger, but be unable to convey anything to him about her emotions.

Not that she needed to tell him what she felt this morning, he thought. Grief etched lines on her face as she gripped the top of the gray casket and helped the other pallbearers wheel their burden to the uppermost step of the church.

Diana’s steps were slow and measured, keeping pace with those in front of her. Each of the pallbearers peeled away until only Diana and a man stood at the back of the hearse. The husband, he suspected. They both stroked their hands over the surface of the casket one last time, and then the man embraced Diana and cried. His heartbroken sobs carried all the way to where Ryder perched. Diana tried to comfort the man, but her actions were stilted. Awkward. The lines of her body tense.

Luckily, someone from the family came to her aid and gently led Sylvia’s husband to a limo. Others quickly followed, but Diana hung back, her eyes on the hearse.

Death sucked.

And being undead didn’t make it any easier.

He had imagined too often lately how it would be after Diana died. He’d pictured the interminable days until they were reunited in the afterlife. The pain that came with such thoughts made him yearn to turn her, to keep her with him always. It was a desire he struggled with every day. And the struggle had kept him away from her.

Diana stood on the steps alone, clad in black, scoping out the church grounds.

Across the street someone with a camera busily snapped pictures. A few yards away at either end of the church, uniformed officers took down license plate numbers. Ryder had watched enough detective shows to realize they thought whoever had murdered Diana’s friend might be in the crowd.

Ryder recognized one detective as Diana’s friend, Peter Daly. He was clearly the leader of the investigation. Surprising. Especially since the murdered woman had been one of Diana’s best friends. Ryder hadn’t thought Diana would settle for anything less than being in command.

He didn’t mind that she liked to take charge. He understood where the need came from. Her sense of control kept her balanced. That she could give up that control on such an important case was a new facet to his ex-lover.

He shifted his position on the ledge, inching closer in the hope of hearing their discussion. Of connecting with her telepathically as he’d done before, only…

Something blocked him. Whether it was intentional or not, he didn’t know. He suspected the latter since he and Diana were both new to talking in each other’s heads. The only way of finding out, however, demanded either a visit to one of his vampire friends or a trip to the Blood Bank. Foley would surely tell him all about this particular skill while gloating over the fact that Diana had ditched him.

Ryder was even more sure that Foley would leap at the chance to advance his own relationship with Diana. She called to men like one of the sirens of old with her enigmatic blend of vulnerability and strength. Not that Ryder blamed him. Diana’s enticing darkness surrounded a pure heart. The way she still called to him.

He hated that. Hated how he ached for her. How he cared about her, despite his vow to stay away.

Her head tilted upward, rebellious in its posture. Her eyes, those amazing gold-green eyes, glittered with a hard light. And when the detective hugged her, she held on to him, her head buried against his chest.

Ryder was tempted to leap down there and…

What? he asked himself. The demon within—the one he had kept at bay for so long—answered all too quickly.

He would rip the other man’s throat out with glee, not even bothering to slake his thirst afterward.

Fists clenched, Ryder battled the urge to do just that. He battled the feeling of power that surged through him when the demon emerged. That sense of might always threatened to corrupt his humanity. But he had allowed himself to explore his demon half because the vampire’s strength let him help others. Let him be her hero.

But she had turned to others in her time of need and not to him.

Possibly never to him again.

Sorrow, raw and demanding, ripped through his heart.

He had almost been prepared for this anguish, as sharp and eviscerating as it was. Before Diana had made her request for space and time apart, he had known he should let her go. She deserved a real life before death called for her.

Now the slam of her car door reverberated in the silence of the early morning.

Ryder watched her car move away until a ray of sun sliced through a gap in the clouds, reminding him that his outing this morning had been but a short gift of freedom. The clouds were breaking up in anticipation of a sunny winter day.

Time for him to decide whether he should leave her alone in her misery or join her there.

The walls of her apartment closed in on her like the silk-lined top of a casket. Each breath seemed harder than the next, maybe because with each one she battled the tears she didn’t want to shed. If she gave in, they would become a never-ending torrent that would drain her dry.

But she told herself to breathe. In and out, in and out. Slowly. Methodically. Maybe with that simple act she could hang on long enough…

The tap on the windowpane finally registered.

Rising up on one elbow, she noted a shadow on the fire escape. A familiar shadow. Ryder.

He was here. Just feet away. She could be in his arms. Only…

Her emotions were too muddled tonight. Too conflicted. As vulnerable as she was, it would be a mistake to see him. A mighty big mistake.

Somehow that thought didn’t communicate itself to the rest of her as she slipped from bed and belted her robe tight. She opened the window to find him leaning against the edge of the fire escape railing.

“Are you okay?” His voice was low. The dim light from the sliver of moon hid his features, but she could picture them in her mind. His dark eyes nearly gone black with emotion. Sharply defined brows drawn together in question.

“I’ve been better,” she confessed.

“Is there anything I can do?”

She found herself sliding her leg up and over the sill. But she didn’t go to him, choosing to remain close to the window, her back braced on one edge of the sash. Her legs crossed in front of her, but with her knees drawn up tight to her chest. She told herself it was because of the chill of the winter night and not to avoid touching him.

“I feel…” she began, her voice tight as the tears she had dammed up swelled, threatening to spill over. With a deep, quavery breath, she continued, “I feel like I failed…my dad. Sylvia. You.”

Ryder didn’t need the moonlight to see her face. Vampire sight illuminated the way she gripped her lower lip with her teeth, worrying it, the sheen of tears as they tracked down her face. She must have realized she was crying for she suddenly buried her face against her knees.

That’s when he did what she likely feared the most—he picked her up with his greater strength and cradled her in his lap.

She finally released a deluge of tears.

She gripped his shirt and sank her head against his chest. She sobbed until she collapsed against him, her body trembling from the violence of the release.

“I’m sorry.” She shook her head dejectedly.

Ryder stroked his hand along her hair, down to her jaw. “There’s no need to apologize.”

“But there is. I asked you to leave. I can’t expect you to show up here whenever—”

“I came of my own volition, darlin’.”

This was wrong, Diana thought. How could she ever have a normal life if she gave in to her need for him whenever he came around? Especially now when she was unprepared and unwilling for this to go any further. But she needed an anchor. Something stable to stop the way her world was spinning out of control.

But Ryder couldn’t be that anchor tonight. She was still too uncertain of her feelings for him and for a life filled by things other than death and mayhem. And vampires, both good and bad.

She must have tensed, because he asked, “What’s wrong?”

She answered him frankly, wanting everything out in the open. “When my father died, I lost it. I let myself slip into…a bad place. The things I did. To myself. To Sebastian. To the other people I cared about…”

“But you left that world, Diana. You had the strength to make something of yourself.”

“I thought I’d left that world. And then I met you.” She placed her hand over his chest, rubbed it back and forth as she added, “Like you slip into your human skin when beneath—”

“There’s the demon who doesn’t want to play nice.”

She nodded. “Maybe that’s what brought us together. That twisted piece inside us that we can both barely control.”

“That’s not what it is, but you’re too afraid to admit the truth.”

The truth? She didn’t know what that was. “I know you want—”

“For you to be happy, darlin’. I want that more than anything.”

“I want the same for you. Only—”

He placed his finger on her lips to silence her. “You don’t need to say it.”

No, she didn’t. They both understood their happiness might lie on separate paths.

“How do you handle it? Losing everyone and everything you know?”

His body stiffened beside hers and although he didn’t say the words, she somehow knew. He had dealt with it much as she had—by putting up a wall around part of himself. By never letting anyone into that safe place.

“You stopped caring. You shut yourself off from the world.”

“Like you did, darlin’. Only…that’s not living. It’s just surviving.”

But retreating had helped her temper her hurt. Had let her function.

“Sometimes you have to embrace the darkness before you can get on with life,” he said.

She met his gaze then, so intense and compelling. Filled with so much darkness.

“It’s not always pain between us,” Ryder said. He cradled her jaw, offering solace with that touch.

“Isn’t it?” she countered. “What do I bring you but the prospect of loss? Of watching me—”

She couldn’t finish as he covered her mouth with his hand. “Don’t. Please.”

He could silence her physically, but not completely. I can’t bring you such pain.

“Do you think leaving me now is any less painful?”

She shook her head, dislodging his hand from her mouth, but when she gazed up at him, he had morphed. His glowing eyes pierced the night, drawing her into their depths. Reminding her of what she would give up if she left him for good. The passion they could share forever.

The call of that promise…

Was sometimes too tempting. Like now, when she was so weak. So confused. When death had touched her life and made her wonder what it would be like to never die.

Except that she couldn’t imagine living forever. She couldn’t imagine seeing everyone around her die. Or fearing something as simple and beautiful as a sunrise. But she also couldn’t imagine how Sylvia had spent those last moments of life. Had she suffered? Had she wanted more time?

Will I when it is my turn to die?

I would never take advantage of your fears, he said, returning to his human state.

You just did. She moved away from him. “I have to go. I need to be ready for tomorrow.”

Tomorrow she was going to help Peter with the investigation in what little free time she had. The day would demand her total concentration.

So she slipped back inside her apartment and shut him out of her mind and, she hoped, out of her heart.