Page 116 of Vampire's Choice
He pulled her into his lap, so she was the center of his attention. She didn’t object, a fizzing of nerves happening at the look in his eyes. Lurking among all those emotions and thoughts behind his eyes, the incubus watched and waited. Seeing if the angel side of him would ever weaken enough for it to take control.
The eternal war between Id and the Super Ego, Merc the Ego holding the balance in between. Only for him, there was nothing theoretical about it. It was an actual battlefield, a war he’d had to decide how to fight, since Marcellus and Mikhael had found him.
Merc wouldn’t let that side of himself take control from him again. She knew it. Just as she knew he’d never reject his incubus blood, never abandon or leave it out in the cold, because he knew what that felt like.
“The third mark,” he said abruptly. “You’re concerned I don’t understand its meaning.”
“I understand you want to protect me. And I appreciate that. But it can’t be the only reason.”
She wasn’t entirely sure how to explain what reasons would be enough, but Merc stopped her from saying more. He cupped her throat, thumb moving over it.
“I’ve watched Yvette with Charlie and Gundar. Just through a second mark, her ability to speak in their minds, her way of knowing them, has a closeness to it I found intriguing. But I’ve also spent time around Adan and Catriona. It’s deeper. A soul connection, where the vampire can come inside, not just the mind of the servant, but their soul.”
“You’ve paid attention.” Her heart thumped a little harder.
“I’ve always paid attention, but lately the knowledge has more context.”
She couldn’t smile. “I don’t know how the mark will work with you. Angels are more powerful than vampires. Catriona is Fae, and High Fae are way more powerful than vampires, but she’s a lesser Fae, and the Light Guardian thing might have weighted it on his side. Or not. It doesn’t matter. Not really. They love each other.”
“Yes. They’ve found a home in one another.” His expression became thoughtful. “A different kind of home from this place, though it’s still home to him. I overheard Charlie speaking to a troupe member. His wife left him a couple years ago, and he’s still having difficulty. She said when a relationship dissolves, it’s like the home it created has been wrecked. Leaving one feeling homeless and adrift.”
“You think…the third mark is a form of home.” Her hand was resting on his chest, his heart thudding beneath it.
“Isn’t it?” Those dark eyes held her. “I heard the conversation you and your mother had, after dinner.”
“I like this.” Ruth stroked the wood’s texture. The family picture had been mounted in the living room for years, but as a thank you for letting her and her children visit the island, one of the Farida Sanctuary mothers who did woodworking had sent Elisa and Mal a new frame for it. Small rectangles of reclaimed antique wood in multiple earth hues had created it.
The painting had been done by Evan, a vampire artist sired by Lord Uthe, a former Council member. It had been his gift to Mal and Elisa, shortly after Adan and Ruth turned fifty. In the portrait, the four of them sat on the porch steps. Elisa’s gaze and hands were on her children, Mal’s on her shoulder and Adan’s. Ruth sat between Mal’s knees, her hand on the left one, closest to Adan. All of them linked.
Many born vampires didn’t make it to fifty, but if they did, their chances of doubling that life span or making it to full maturity increased considerably. It was considered the “take your first deep breath” point for most born vampire parents.
Elisa touched the frame, just below Mal’s braced foot in the picture. “Ruth, I want you and Adan to have your lives. I know you’ve told us you want to come back here, but your father and I want that to be your choice. Understand? Life is long. Especially for a vampire.”
“Of course, Etsi.”
Merc and Mal were discussing the history of the sanctuary, so she assumed her and her mother’s conversation was mostly private. “Are you all right?”
“Yes.” But Elisa’s gaze was thoughtful when she looked upon her daughter. “A servant lives to be three hundred, if God is merciful. But Mal can live so much longer. My hope is that you and Adan, the families you build for yourself, will be part of his life, so when that happens, as it will,” the Irish increased in her voice, “he’ll never be alone. He’s a strong man, that he is. But his soul…his soul will need you, the both of you.”
“Mum.” Ruth put an arm around her. “Of course. Adan and I…we love you both so much. We’d never...”
“I know. And don’t fret. I’m not being morbid. I just want to say it, because loss is a part of life, and we don’t get to choose when loss happens, no matter our plans. Or how immortal we think we are.”
The gemstone blue eyes touched Ruth’s, held. “Whenever that end comes, for you or one you bind yourself to, the best you can do is hope that you didn't take anything for granted. You tried to be your best self, which means you gave far more than you took. And you loved with your whole heart.”
Elisa turned toward the men. Mal had put a sheet of paper on the coffee table. The top of the table was a horizontal slice from the trunk of a giant tree, fallen by a hurricane that had hit the island a decade ago. The golden stain and polish highlighted the age rings. Mal was sketching out a point about the fault lines to Merc.
"Lord above, he's not an easy man, but who of them are?” A small smile played on Elisa’s lips, then she nudged Ruth. “And who wants easy? We all know the difficult ones make up for it in other ways."
As Ruth rolled her eyes, Elisa’s narrowed. “Those are a little close to the fire,” she murmured, and casually moved in that direction to close the fire screen. As she did, she used the toe of one of her canvas sneakers to nudge Merc’s wing tip a few inches further from the range of sparks.
Merc’s lips twitched, showing he was aware of the movement, though he didn’t fluster her mother by turning his head toward her to draw attention to it.
In that moment, Ruth realized the greatest danger she’d risked in bringing Merc home to meet the family. Seeing him with her parents, her ability to think sensibly about him, resist the desire to bind herself to him in every possible way, had only moved farther out of her grasp.
Merc touched her lips. “If the third mark is a home, it’s one I want to share with you. I’ve made my choice, as a ‘servant’ must before a vampire takes that step.” He drew them both to their feet and put his hands on her shoulders. His expression held her still.
“I won’t be ruled by your mark, Ruth. But I’ll serve you with it. Protect you, care for you. Learn how to build a home with it.” He paused. “I’m not sure what love is, but if it’s required to build a home that lasts, I’ll learn how to do that as well.”