Choosing Eternity Read online

  And when morning dawned, cloudless, the sun rising up over the edge of the ocean like a flower rising from the earth…I knew I would no longer journey to Northampton. I knew I would miss my coach that day. I knew I would not be teaching art that summer.

  I knew I was staying.

  Life at the Sullivan Inn was as extraordinary as a fairy tale, and as normal as Sunday dinner, all at once. Kane had many “sisters” who were like her, women who loved women, who had become vampires, and together they’d built themselves a Utopia away from the world—or as far removed from the world as one could truly get. No one really visited the Sullivan Inn, and that was just as well. There were rumors in the town down below, Eternal Cove, but the rumors went uninvestigated and though the blacksmith was not the only one who thought the place was a den of sin within the town…well, they did not bother us about it.

  And what did it matter what they thought of us anyway? I was in love. Every day that passed in Kane’s presence, I grew to love her more. Yes, there had been a bond between us from the first moment we set eyes upon one another—but as the months passed, as autumn devoured summer, and winter, in turn, devoured autumn, my love for her grew and grew and grew until it seemed that love was all I contained.

  I painted her. I painted her hundreds of times, over and over, in different styles and different mediums. She hung each painting along the hallway on the first floor and heaped me with praises, which I enjoyed, surely. But I felt compelled to paint her, compelled to capture some small part of this joy to canvas.

  Art is forever. I was not. And I wanted, somehow, to make our love eternal.

  Spring came again, and summer too. Tommie had never forgotten those first hours together, and it pained me deeply, how she felt that I had chosen Kane over her. How she tried in every way to make me choose her, instead, as if the choice I’d made could simply be undone. I loved Tommie as the dearest friend, but I could not make her understand that the bond Kane and I shared was something that transcended words. It transcended love itself, it seemed.

  Kane and I were meant to be. We were soul mates, possessed true love, were connected, merged, forever and ever.

  And nothing could come between us but death itself.

  I was aware of it, only in the back of my head and heart, for truly, I did not think of such things. I spent time with Kane, with the Sullivans. I went out upon boats in the harbor, learned to fish, learned to care for the garden as tenderly as Kane did, shoulder to shoulder with her as she taught me of plants and flowers and roses…her favorite flower of them all.

  All may have been right in my world, or as close to it as one could ever get…

  But in the greater world, things were not so lovely. Kane fretted and worried over each piece of correspondence she received, but she did not show me the missives and letters and telegrams, rather taking me for long walks where she walked beside me silent, her hands clasped tightly behind her, her face downturned, her mouth in a grim frown.

  “What makes Kane so sad?” I asked Branna one day. Branna who had fast become my best and dearest friend in the place, Branna who had been with Kane from the very beginning of their lives. She knew Kane better than even I did, and so I came to her with my question.

  Bran lifted her chin, considering me across the little table in her rooms. She sighed long and low and shook her head.

  “She has bade me not to tell you, Melody. And why should I, after all? It is only the problems that plague our kind. You need not worry on them. She does not want you to worry on them.”

  My heart rose into my throat as I watched her carefully.

  Our kind.

  Vampires.

  I was aware, only peripherally, how invested with “her kind” Kane was…and that was deeply. There were vampires who came to visit her from different places, some from quite far away. She would take these visitors into the dark paneled parlor room and they would stay many days, discussing matters with the Sullivans. Kane, I had gathered, was a powerful vampire, and many other vampires were loyal to her.

  But Kane and the rest of the Sullivans were different from the others of their kind. She had answered me truthfully when she promised that she only drank blood from those who were willing to give it to her. Vampires did not need blood, but many were obsessed with the drink and the act of procuring the drink.

  Many were obsessed with taking the drink.

  I had learned that most vampires were dangerous. And that they did not care about humans at all.

  Rather, they saw us as things to devour.

  This was, of course, unsettling. The Sullivans did not think this way, but that so many of their kind did, and so many of their kind came to visit them…I tried my best to be an equally gracious hostess alongside Kane, for the small amounts of time that I was in their presence, but they looked at me on Kane’s arm with surprise.

  And more than one remarked that they thought it strange that Kane would have such a prolonged dalliance with a mortal.

  That Branna had been forbade by Kane to tell me what was the matter was, therefore, quite bad. For Kane knew that I was uncertain of the other vampires, for I knew how they thought on me.

  “Bran, please tell me,” I cajoled, tapping my fingers on the tabletop. “I am a grown woman, am I not? I deserve to know what is troubling my dearest love.”

  Bran stared at me in surprise then, her brows furrowed. “Your dearest love,” she repeated quietly.

  “Of course,” I answered without hesitation. “Kane is my one true love.”

  Bran leaned forward, put her chin in her hand as she stared at me intensely with those sweet brown eyes. “You love her…truly?”

  “Of course,” I answered again, but now my own brow was furrowing. “Why would you ask this?”

  “Because,” answered Bran with a simple shrug, “love, as I have always understood it, means caring for someone in the best times of sunlight…and the darkest times of shadow. You have not seen much shadow with Kane, Melody. Will you love her, even then?”

  “Always,” I answered, my voice firm. “For always.”

  Bran nodded once, twice, as if she was considering something. And then she leaned back in her chair. “There is a Conference of…our kind…each year. This year, it will be held in the Sullivan Inn. Many, many vampires will come together and decide things, moving forward. That is what Kane is receiving letters on. What…will be decided at the Conference.”

  “What is it?” I asked her, leaning forward, too. She looked far from happy as she averted her gaze.

  “There is a faction of vampires down in Boston, who are led by a woman named Magdalena. They want to convince everyone to turn against the humans,” she answered, voice low.

  I stared at her.

  “What…what are you saying?” I finally managed to whisper.

  “Vampires are strong,” said Bran with a slight shrug, still unable to meet my gaze. “Magdalena and her ilk want to overtake the humans and—put simply—rule the world. Vampires would be the superior species. All others would be subjugated beneath them, as humans subjugate cattle for their own ends. That is how the humans treated by the vampires.”

  I was shaken, and I realized my hands quivered on the tabletop. I withdrew them, clasped them tightly in my lap. “Surely…” I wet my lips. My voice shook, too. “Surely there aren’t enough vampires to effectively enslave the human race this way?”

  Bran lifted her eyes. “There are…enough,” she answered gruffly.

  “Oh, God…” I whispered, reaching up, placing a hand over my mouth.

  “The reason Kane did not want you to know is that she is using every last one of her connections to fight this. For the most part, most vampires simply want to be left alone to live their lives as they see fit. They don’t want to form alliances, fight a war…” Bran shook her head decisively. “Kane is using all of her connections to make certain this will not happen. There are many more vampires who are loyal to Kane than Magdalena could ever hope to imagine.”

/>   This made me feel a little better—but only marginally.

  It’s a bit difficult to be told that there are those out there who would enslave my entire species, and could—conceivably—make it happen. We had just seen the end of the war between the states. Enslavement was anathema to the undeniable truth of human rights, and we’d just proven it.

  But now…

  Is this what Darwin spoke of when he published his On the Origin of Species? The weakest species will fall, and the strongest will thrive. That is survival of the fittest, after all.

  I did not think that this next step of evolution was what he had in mind, however.

  That night, I requested that Kane meet me in my rooms. They were right next door to her own, with a door between them. I did not even need my own rooms, but Kane wanted to make certain that I want for nothing, and wanted to allow me to have ample space to paint. So my bed was never slept in, and that was well and good, for I created painting after painting in that space, with that lovely balcony that looked out to the sea.

  She knocked upon the door between our rooms, and I answered it, throwing it wide and throwing my arms about her. It had been a long day—she’d had several travelers to meet with, pale men with dark eyes that struck me very much as “her” kind. So it had been many hours since I had kissed her, and I did so now, savoring every heartbeat of her mouth against my own.

  “My dearest,” she chuckled, wrapping her arms about my waist, pulling me tightly to her, “did you get enough for supper? You mean to devour me!”

  “I will, and I shall,” I answered cheekily, taking a step back and taking her shirt collar in my hand, pulled her through the door and pressed her against it, grinning with ample wickedness up at her. “I have missed you, and fiercely,” I whispered to her, as I left a trail of kisses down her neck.

  She groaned against me, a hand wrapping deeply in the tresses of my bun, but she shook her head, straightening a little. “Is this why you asked me here?” she murmured. “For we can—”

  I sighed against her. “No…no, it is not why I asked you—but I wanted to kiss you first.” I straightened, too, taking a step back from her, meeting her gaze. “Kane…Branna told me about the Conference. About what the vampires want to do with my kind.”

  Kane sighed, running her fingers back through her long, white-blonde locks, leaning heavily back against the door. “I thought she might.” Kane lifted her chin, her bright blue eyes dazzling as she pinned me to the spot with her gaze. “I did not want you to worry,” she reprimanded me gently, curling her fingers over my shoulders with a sweet tenderness. “I will never let anything happen to you.”

  “Or my kind?” I asked, tilting my chin up to hold her gaze.

  “Or your kind. I promise,” Kane murmured, and her voice was thick with conviction. “Do you trust me?”

  “With my whole heart.”

  She studied me for a long moment, her brow still furrowed. And then she took a deep breath. “Those gentlemen who visited with me today—they were from Boston.”

  My heart rose in my throat. “Did they have anything to do with…what is her name?”

  “Magdalena,” said Kane, her mouth in a thin, flat line of distaste. “But no, they did not, though they brought word of some of her tactics and plans. It has helped me tremendously, knowing these things. But...no. The most important part of their visit is that they also brought word of…other happenings in Boston.”

  I watched her, waiting.

  “There are women,” Kane whispered, her voice dropping low. “Women like us. And they are partaking in something known as a ‘Boston Marriage.’”

  My brow furrowed. “Women like us…Sapphists?”

  “Yes.”

  “What is a Boston Marriage?” I asked her wonderingly.

  “Well, they jested with me, asked me if you and I were in one,” said Kane, raising a brow. “It is, apparently, when two women live together. No man. Live and love, I think.”

  I stared at her, eyes wide.

  “And that…that made me think about that most singular word,” she breathed, bringing one of my hands up to her cool mouth. She pressed a passionate kiss against the back of my hand as she held my gaze. “Marriage.”

  My heart ached as I tilted my chin, looked up at her. “There have been so many times when I wished—” I began brokenly, but she shook her head, cupped my cheeks in her hands tenderly and held my face with a sweet gentleness that made my heart break all over again.

  I would have given anything to wed her in the way that man and woman could do unthinkingly.

  But then, she said:

  “Will you, Melody Westfall, consent to give me your hand in marriage?”

  I stared at her, perfectly speechless.

  And then, she let me go and glided down into a kneel before me, on one knee, holding my hands tightly as she gazed up at me in perfect love.

  “Please,” she whispered. “Please marry me?”

  I knelt down, too, and wrapped my arms around her, holding her as tight and close as two bodies can possibly get.

  “I would give anything to wed you,” I told her, a sob rising in my chest. I swallowed it bitterly. “But we cannot. We are woman and woman—”

  “I care not for the laws of man,” she spat, then leaned away from me, gathering my face once more in her tender palms. “Marry me, Melody,” she murmured, searching my face, her eyes wet and wide and pleading. “It need not be in a church or chapel. It could be here. Before the eyes of our loved ones, we could profess undying love to one another, exchange rings as a sign of our bonds. There is nothing else to a marriage, truly. There is only the promise of love eternal.”

  “Love eternal,” I repeated, searching her face, too. “It is what I feel for you,” I answered.

  “And what I feel for you. So let us enter that most sacred of rituals together.” She lifted her chin. “I love you so truly that I will fight for you, always. Your kind are my kind. You have proven, with your love of me, that humans are not creatures to devour or subjugate. We can show them all that our love is pure and good, that humans should be loved and protected, not destroyed. I will lead my kind, I will show the others, show them that you are worth so much more.”

  I nodded, and I kissed her fiercely, tasting the salt of her tears upon her lips as I drank her with a deepness that made me heady.

  Oh, I loved her. And she loved me.

  And there was nothing else in the world besides that love.

  Until that night…

  The night of our wedding.

  The night of the Conference.

  Kane wanted us to be wed before all of the others, and that meant every vampire who had descended upon the Sullivan Inn in the past few weeks. She wanted to show them, with this ritual of devotion, that humans were something to be cherished, not used. I had my dress, a beautiful gown of red satin and lace, and I had handpicked a bouquet of roses in the garden, roses that were magically blooming in the sweet October sun…

  There seemed to be magic everywhere those days. There was magic, of course, when Kane showed me the rings she’d had made for us, two intricate bands of Celtic knot work that made my heart skip a beat when she revealed them to me, resting in her cool palm.

  “Can I keep them?” I asked her breathlessly. “Until tonight. Until we wed.” Oh, that word was delicious on my tongue, almost as delicious as her kiss as she gathered me into her arms and we kissed most ardently.

  “Of course,” she answered with a warm chuckle. “But where will you keep them? I thought to keep them in my breast pocket until—”

  “But they’re treasure!” I admonished her with a bright smile. I took them from her hand, placed them back in the little cloth bag she’d delivered them to me in. I crossed the space of my rooms and I took a painting off the wall.

  And there, beneath the painting, was my little treasure box, securely placed within the wall.

  “Treasure deserves a special place,” I told her, as she came up behind me and
kissed my bare shoulder. I shivered against her in delight as I placed the rings in their new home, the home they should occupy for only a few hours…only a few hours until the happiest moment of my life.

  Soon, I was in front of a standing mirror, turning this way and that, looking at my bright red dress and making small adjustments to the little details. The black lace along my creamy shoulders needed to be straightened.

  I heard raised voices, which gave me pause. Had I even heard anything? They sounded so far away and distant…but, yes, there they were again, out in the hallway, raised voices. They sounded so familiar. I turned, lifting up my massive skirts and trying to move through the bedroom toward the door, but it was as if I were moving through quicksand. My breath started coming short, and fear rose through me, thick and black, and when my hand finally closed around the doorknob, I knew that something was very wrong.

  The doorknob was hot to the touch. So hot that I screamed.

  Fire, fire everywhere.

  I was not wed to Kane. The happiest moment of my life was something I never reached.

  I died in my rooms as the fire consumed them. I died alone, Kane unaware of the fire until it was too late.

  I died…

  And my soul fled my body.

  Until…

  A brand new baby girl is held tight in her mother’s arms. I know this woman as she cradles the child close, cooing gently as she kisses the top of the baby’s head over and over again.

  “She’s beautiful and healthy,” the nurse tells the mother with a broad smile. “What name should I put down for her?”

  “Rose,” that mother whispers, smiling, so happy.

  My mother.

  Rose.

  ---

  “Rose? Rose!”

  I heard my name called over and over again, by a familiar voice I loved with all of my heart. I knew that voice, and I loved that voice, and that is what pulled me from the darkness.

  Love.

  I took a deep breath and then another, rising from inky blackness that surrounded me.

  I opened my eyes.

  “She’s awake.” Bran’s warm voice sounded, and then there was Kane’s face above me. There were tears in her brilliant blue eyes, her lovely face contorted in a grimace of anguish. She cradled me gently in her arms, my lower half resting on the floor, the rest of me held tenderly by her. I lifted my chin, took a deep breath, my brow furrowed.