Choosing Eternity Read online

  But we both knew we couldn’t move together right now, as much as we may want to. And part of me (most of me) craved it with such a fire and ferocity that it almost consumed me. But I knew that we both had to stay focused. It was important to be on edge, noticing everything around us with a minuteness to detail and a perceptiveness that only a predator could have.

  But, God, I craved Kane.

  I hope that I lived long enough to make love to her again.

  That was a melancholy thought, and I kissed her harder, fiercer, to try to forget it. But it was no use. She was thinking the same thing, and we both broke away from one another, gazing into each other’s eyes with a poignant sadness.

  “I will keep you safe,” Kane whispered to me.

  And I, defiant, lifted my chin.

  “I will keep you safe,” I countered.

  The smile returned to that beautiful face I loved with all my heart. She put her head to the side, lifted my chin with one now warm forefinger.

  “We will keep each other safe,” she promised. “Stay close to me. We will triumph this night…if we move together.”

  I nodded, my throat tight, and we let ourselves out into Bran’s bedroom. Gwen was sitting on the edge of the high bed, kicking her heels and gazing down at the phone in her hand. When we came into the room, she looked up, brows raised.

  “Gorgeous, lady,” she told me, rising and winking at me. She slid her phone into her dress pocket, and she opened her arms to me. We hugged one another tightly, and then we both held each other out at arm’s length to admire each other’s dresses. Partially because we knew this night was weighty with danger…

  But also because damn, we looked good.

  Gwen was, of course, all dolled up in her eighties-style dress, hair, makeup and bangles. I wore dresses every day, but just because something is a dress doesn’t make it fancy. I hardly had any dresses to my name that I’d consider a “fancy” party dress, so when Gwen was packing a duffel for me, she’d chosen the only dress for me that really made sense to wear tonight.

  Before coming to the Sullivan Hotel, I worked as a grocery manager and a failed artist (at least in this lifetime), so I wasn’t exactly that well off. But I loved dresses and fashion, so I did what any former art student does: I learned how to thrift. Thrift stores are teaming with unloved treasures ready to be discovered and adored, especially unloved clothing, waiting to be cherished all over again.

  So the dress that Gwen had brought me, the only “fancy” dress I owned, had, once upon a time, been a wedding dress in the eighties. I assumed that whoever had worn it before me had gotten divorced (one of the primary reasons for donating wedding dresses to a thrift store, after all), and I liked to imagine her story. Prominent in my imaginings were both her and her husband realizing they were gay and divorcing amicably—a girl could dream.

  I’d taken off the sleeves and used the lace to trim the ends of the puffed shoulders. I’d trimmed the center of the dress’s bodice and created a plunging neckline, and I’d taken off most of the rhinestones…

  And then I’d dyed the dress a rich, rose-red crimson in my apartment bathtub, which had resulted in me not getting my security deposit back…because the tub had stained pink from the fabric dye. Live and learn.

  But it had resulted in this dress, which definitely looked like it remembered the eighties, but that it also had grown up and become a little more subdued in the interim. I loved this dress, I loved how I’d transformed it, and as I’d slipped it on, I realized that I had transformed, too.

  So we were two of a kind, this dress and I.

  My hair was swept up in a quick updo, not nearly as pretty as the one Gwen had helped me with earlier, but bobby pins and hairspray can hide a world of sins. My makeup was a quick smoky eye and that purportedly kiss-proof lipstick.

  I’d only had to touch up my mouth a little, so it had passed the vampire-kiss-test.

  Now, Gwen and I looked at one another, and then back to Kane. She stood a little apart from us, glancing at a small mirror hanging on the bedroom wall, and knotting her tie expertly, her fingers flicking at her neck as she drew it around and around in an almost mystical pattern (I’d never had occasion to learn how to tie one myself). When she was done, she did up the last buttons of her dress shirt, tightened the tie about her neck and smoothed down her suit jacket collar.

  And then…we were done.

  And the dance awaited.

  Kane turned back to me, raising a brow and offering her arm. “Shall we?” she asked, lifting her chin, her jaw tight.

  I nodded, threaded my arm through hers, and then we made our way out of Bran’s rooms and into the dimly lit hallway beyond.

  And slowly, carefully, we descended the stairs, faint strains of music reaching up to us, even here. I didn’t recognize the song, but the beat throbbed like heartbreak.

  Kane squeezed my arm gently, glanced down at me, her eyes dark. “Are you all right?” she murmured.

  I nodded once, twice, sharply. “I don’t know if…‘all right’ really covers it, but I’m ready.” I breathed out, clenched my teeth. “I’m ready to face down the woman who’s kept us apart all this time… I mean, it’s because of her I died, and…you know what?” I glanced up at Kane, my eyes narrowed. “I’m ready for a reckoning.”

  This appeared to startle Kane, for her eyes widened, and then a little smile turned up the corners of her perfect mouth. She bent close, brushed her lips against my cheek, breathed out against me. I shuddered from the warmth of her, from the want of her.

  “That’s my darling,” she whispered.

  Together, we descended the last of the stairs.

  The hallway at the very entrance of the Sullivan Hotel was awash with people. We heard them long before we saw them, following the twists and turns of the corridors filled with art—much of the pieces painted by me, once upon a time, I realized, gazing over the paintings as we went.

  The cacophony of voices, of laughter, of music, washed over us, and it was overwhelming as we followed the familiar black and red tiles, as I let the paintings blur before my eyes.

  Each painting was yet another reminder that I’d had my life stolen from me. That, if I wasn’t careful, it would be stolen again this night.

  I’d be damned if I let that happen.

  I think Kane was having similar thoughts, as she kept casting sidelong glances at me, her brow furrowed with a worry that seemed to be consuming her wholly. I smiled up at her, and I squeezed her arm, leaning against her.

  “Don’t worry,” I murmured to her.

  “How can I not worry?” she asked me, and there was anguish in her tone. “I’m…trying. I’m trying, darling,” she whispered to me, bending to me, brushing her mouth against my head, her eyes closed for a moment as we slowed down.

  The throng of people surrounded us, and we were engulfed by happy chaos: a party.

  There were people everywhere, packed in tightly, laughing and drinking and dancing together, even out here in the hallway. The music was quite easy to hear, after all, the bass of it making the floor tiles beneath our feet vibrate.

  Everyone seemed so happy…

  But I could feel it rising inside of me.

  Anticipation.

  My chest felt tight, my heart beating a little too fast as I leaned against Kane.

  “Don’t worry,” I repeated, and I flicked my gaze up to her and gave her a genuine smile. “I mean it. No matter what happens tonight…we did it, all right? We’re together, and that’s all that matters.”

  “Not all,” breathed Kane into my hair, closing her eyes tightly against the many folks who were milling happily around us with wine stems in their hands and smiles on their faces. “I want you to be mine forever,” Kane told me, her words so soft I almost didn’t hear them…

  But I did.

  I squeezed her arm harder this time, putting strength behind my fingers as I leaned against my wife.

  “I will,” I promised her.

  And I meant
it with all my heart.

  On the other side of me, Gwen jostled my arm good-naturedly. When I turned to look her way, she raised a brow to me.

  “What’s the plan here, hot stuff?” she murmured to me.

  Plan?

  I couldn’t help it—I actually chuckled as I shook my head.

  “There’s no plan,” I told her and gave her a little smile as her eyes widened, as her mouth fell open, just a little. “The plan is for everyone to stay alive.”

  “I mean…that’s…good,” said Gwen warily.

  Kane squeezed my arm once. “I’m going to check with Bran,” she murmured.

  I nodded once and watched her as she folded herself into the crowd.

  Gwen moved a little closer to me, glancing over her shoulder at a particularly tall, reedy man who was staring at her, licking his lips. She shivered a little. “Um, so about all these vampires—”

  “I asked Bran to keep an eye on you,” I told her, shaking my head. “To stick close to you. You’re going to be fine, Gwen.”

  “Honey,” she said, her eyes wide as she gazed at me, “it’s not me I’m worried about. It’s you.”

  I stared at her.

  “They want you dead. I mean, they totally killed you before, which is so weird to say, by the way. I’m…I’m just…” She spoke all of this softly, quietly, but then she was folding me in a tight embrace, and Gwen—cheerful, happy-go-lucky Gwen, who I thought had never worried about anything in her lifetime—squeezed me tightly, and I felt the hot prick of her tears on my shoulder.

  My throat tightened, and I embraced my best friend fiercely. “Nothing’s going to happen to me,” I promised her, and then I held her out at arm’s length. “You’ve been looking forward to this dance so much. I want you to have fun. I mean, it’s a ball. Everyone should have fun at a ball! You know? Have a ball?”

  She snorted, sniffling a little and taking a tissue out of her clutch. She dabbed at her nose and the corners of her eyes, gazing up at the ceiling and trying to stop crying.

  “Yeah, I’m gonna have a ton of fun while I wonder if my best friend’s going to kick the bucket,” she quipped.

  “Exactly. Loads of fun,” I said, raising a brow and giving her a smile. “Now, look, I think it’s the best time for us to separate.” I jerked my thumb over my shoulder. “I’m gonna go mingle in the crowds. I don’t want you to be near me, just in case anything goes down, you’ll get caught in the middle of—”

  But Gwen held up a hand.

  “Dude,” she hissed, leaning close so that no one around us could hear her words, “we’re living together in a house full of vampires. I’m in the middle of this. I’m sticking to you like glue, honey.”

  I raised a brow.

  “No ‘but’s,’” she said firmly, then gave me a big grin and slipped her arm through mine, squeezing it. “Now,” she said, and we began to walk through the press of the crowd, toward the largest room in the place. The ballroom, I remembered. “What’s it like,” she asked, “to be a vampire?”

  The music grew louder and louder, every step we took through the assembled crowd. Now we were pushing through the people, human and vampire alike, to try to thread our way into the ballroom with its low lights and its throbbing heartbeat of a soundtrack.

  “Weird,” I yelled to her over the music. “Very weird. But good.”

  Gwen flicked me a bemused glance, and then we’d found our way into the ballroom.

  And the dance roared around us, the most vibrant and alive party I’d ever seen…

  Which was slightly ironic, considering that many of the folks here weren’t really alive…not in that traditional sense, anyway.

  Including yours truly.

  I’d never been in the ballroom…at least in this life (would that ever feel “normal” to say? I didn’t think it would). I looked up around me now at the space and felt recognition and the familiar feeling that I had been here before, but it felt like it’d been a very long time since I’d last walked these floors…

  And it had.

  The ballroom had a vaulted ceiling that rose to a peak in the very center. It had been built onto the side of the main Sullivan Hotel building, and the ceiling was actually built of glass. It was phenomenal to see the stars overhead, far, far distant. There were little lights run along the border portions of the glass, draped in generous, dipping curves, so that it looked a little bit like the galaxies far away had deigned to drift a little closer, just for this one night.

  Here, down below, there were lights along the walls, turned low, and a stage at the far end of the room that held the DJ, a woman who I knew on sight was definitely a vampire. Not all vampires are pale, obviously, but this one was, and her long, blonde hair was held up in two buns on the top of her head. She wore a cropped top and low slung jeans, showing off her pale-as-milk midriff. She was rocking out to the music, her eyes closed as the rock song I didn’t recognize lifted around us.

  And, on the traditional black and red tile floor of the Sullivan Hotel were people, a mass of people dancing together, humans and vampires alike.

  It was breathtaking to see everyone moving together, and—for a moment—I stopped and watched the people shift around me. They all looked so happy, like they were enjoying themselves, having a good time…and that was lovely to see.

  I tried to hold this moment in my heart.

  No matter what came next, I thought, at least there were still people getting along on the planet. At least there was still lovely things…like love itself.

  Gwen glanced sidelong at me and gave me a lopsided smile. She squeezed my arm and let it go, her head to the side.

  “Do you remember those parties in college?” she asked me, her smile becoming a little mischievous.

  I groaned, shaking my head…her smile was infectious, and I couldn’t help returning it. “Yeah…I don’t think I can forget those,” I laughed.

  “Well, let’s live it up, just like back then.” She gave me a wink. “Do you want some booze? I’ll go get us drinks.”

  I glanced over my shoulder, nodding distractedly. “Yeah…thank you, Gwen.”

  “Don’t worry, I just saw your wife,” said Gwen softly, leaning closer so that only I could hear her. A soft smile came over her face then. “She’s right behind you.”

  And, in fact, Kane was. I turned, and she was right there, like she’d just materialized out of the sea of people around us from nothingness. There was a soft smile on her lips the moment she saw me, her brilliant blue eyes—so piercing, so bright—seeing into the deepest parts of me, it seemed. I leaned close, wrapping my arms about her neck as my beautiful wife (wife!) traced her hands down to the small of my back…and then a little lower, her head to the side, her mouth lifted up in a beautiful curve.

  “Hello, darling,” she murmured to me before bending her head low and capturing my mouth with a kiss.

  I kissed her deeply, as if she possessed all the air in the universe, and I was breathless without her. Which…wasn’t really that far from the truth. The eventualities of this night were prowling around us in the darkness like wolves, but in the space of her arms, the night and all those eventualities could wait…just for a moment.

  But it could only last for so long, this perfect kiss, the way her mouth felt so warm now, so soft and mesmerizing and wholly captivating…because the night spun on, and it would spin on without us if we didn’t join it.

  So we did.

  Kane’s hands drifted over my rear, holding me close, her palms cupping my ass in the dress, squeezing appreciatively as she chuckled, low and growling, into my ear. We began to move with the music, a slower song now with a deep, pulsing tempo that was slow and sensuous…a little like a throbbing heartbeat.

  “You look so beautiful tonight,” she murmured into my ear. “I…can’t believe this is real. I can’t believe you’re my wife.”

  That surprised me. Kane didn’t often show vulnerability, and the words she’d just spoken revealed an almost innocent wonder
. I looked up into her face, and it was reflected there, too.

  She looked so happy…

  But that, of course, faded away as she gazed down into my face.

  “I have to keep you safe,” she told me, holding me close, with a tightness that belied her tension. “I will keep you safe.”

  “Likewise,” I told her, tilting my head to the side and giving her a little smile as she raised a brow and gazed down at me with no small amount of reproach. “I know I’m just a newbie,” I told her with a little laugh…but then I sobered. “But that doesn’t mean that we’re not in this together.”

  “It was being ‘in this together’ that got you killed,” Kane reminded me, her voice tight in her throat as she looked down at me, her eyes darkening.

  “Not this time,” I breathed to her, tilting my chin up.

  And, again, I captured her mouth with mine.

  There are several moments in my life that are impossible to forget.

  This was one of them:

  Surrounded by people on the dance floor, the throbbing bass of a song I didn’t recognize making the very tiles beneath our feet vibrate in answer to that rhythm. It seemed that the whole universe was that song just then, a pulsing anthem of love that colored the world with the incandescent glow of possibility. Kane held me with a close fierceness that made my heart grow inside of me.

  I turned and pillowed my ear against her heart, and I listened to the answering rhythm of that beloved heartbeat.

  No matter what happened next, I knew, breathing in deeply the scent of her, cradled by her, held by her, loved by her…I would remember this for always.

  When you’re in a roller coaster, heading for the top of the very first drop…doesn’t it seem like the car you’re in moves slowly? Click, click, click, you’re drawn toward the inevitably of a freefall. You know it’s coming, so you close your eyes tight, throw your arms in the air, give yourself over to the inevitably of it. People ride roller coaster because they want that thrill, that sensation of freefall, the element of danger. They want to embrace it.