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Cutting Shards	By : RogueFemme Category: Anita Blake > Crossovers Views: 1585 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I don't own Anita or her world, I just play in it. I make no money from this story

Chapter List
- 1-Cutting Shards
- 2-"Say it again..."
- 1
- 2
That evening I slipped a folded note under Caden's door. I'd struggled over it for hours, and though the result wouldn't win any awards for style, it was honest and to the point.

Dear Caden,

Please don't leave. What happened wasn't your fault. You did the best you could that night, and I know things would have been much worse if you hadn't. I'm sorry I'm not handling things well, but I'm just trying to get myself together. I don't mean to hurt you. If you feel you have to leave for your own sake I understand, but please don't go because of me. I don't want to lose you.

Mara

I heard nothing for three nights, until the morning I awoke to find a note slipped under my door and opened it to find Caden's elegant handwriting.

Dear Mara,

I will stay as long as you wish me to. Please take care of yourself and do not be concerned for me.

Caden

I tucked the note carefully into my bedside drawer and cried into my pillow for a long time. But these tears weren't hopeless tears; they were cleansing. Sometimes you don't know what you have until you've lost it. I guess I was lucky this time.

That afternoon I took a long hot shower, scrubbing and shampooing until I felt as clean as I'd get, then dressed neatly and braided my hair. I'd never forget what happened, and it still hurt, but I'd put the world on hold long enough. I walked into the sitting room to find Nathaniel, Jason, Cherry, and my mother and father there. I hesitated when they looked up, but walked in anyway.

"I can't change what happened. But I can deal with it. And I will." I held out my hands to them and was encompassed in hugs.

Caden answered the door on my first knock. I had avoided looking at him so much lately that I'd almost forgotten how much he affected me.

"Mara," his voice was soft, vulnerable.

"Um, I think there are some things we should talk about. May I come in?"

His eyes became shuttered. He stepped back from the door. "Of course, please."

I looked around and was instantly reminded of what had happened the last time I was in this room. This was the place where he had first taken me in his arms. My gaze was drawn to the bed, and I remembered the weight of his body, how good it had felt. I shook my head to clear the thoughts. He must have thought the same thing, because he pointedly left the door open.

He waved a graceful hand toward the chair, but I remained standing. "Caden, I... I wanted to say I'm sorry."

"For what?"

I shut the door and then made myself turn and face him. "For everything. For what I made you do that night and what I've done to you since."

He stood up abruptly and turned away.

"Please believe that I never, ever meant to hurt you. I'm so sorry," I added.

He laughed, short and humourlessly. "Some would say that it's not possible to hurt me."

"I've never believed that. If you didn't care, you wouldn't have done what it took to save me. And it wouldn't have cost you what it has." I stepped closer to him. "You're a good man. You have proven that more than once. It's why I trust you so much."

His back was stiff, and I could not bear his shutting me out. I moved around to look into his face, and my heart hurt to see the hint of tears in his eyes. I raised my hand to his cheek, and he covered my hand with his.

"I thought you'd never willingly touch me again," he whispered.

My throat tightened. "I love touching you. That hasn't changed."

An indrawn breath, and he studied my face with wide eyes. My eyes stung with tears. "Caden," I whispered his name as if it was the sweetest word in any language. "I love you, and I'd do anything to take away the pain that I've caused you. I'm so sorry."

I looked down to hide the raw emotion on my face, but his hands surrounded my face, turning it up to his. "...what?"

Fear clenched my chest, making it hard to breathe. I closed my eyes, trying to will away the tears. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said anything. I just wanted you to know how much you mean to me. I..."

"Say it again." -in a harsh whisper. I opened my eyes, and his gaze was so intense I could not look away.

"I love you."

He took me abruptly into his arms, holding me tightly to him, and all the fearful tension drained from my body. I rested my cheek against his chest, my arms around him, and melted into his embrace. Just knowing that he still cared for me made me feel like a huge weight had slid from my shoulders, leaving me lighter, free.

I slid my arms around his shoulders and pressed a kiss to his neck. He made a sound in his throat, his lips captured mine and he kissed me hungrily, desperately, holding me tightly as if he feared I would vanish from his embrace. His magic surrounded me like a soft cloud gathering over my skin, I felt his powerful shields begin to melt away, and we remembered...

...when he'd first come here, believing that all the talk of freedom and respect was just more lies, waiting for a betrayal that never came...

...and then realizing that it was true, that he'd been sent to destroy something good and decent and knowing he couldn't do it...

...and knowing that it was not just the kiss he wanted to protect, but the woman-child whose guileless trust had made him understand so much...

...shocked by her generous spirit that wouldn't allow him to be shut away in solitude, how she looked past the coldly indifferent persona, saw his loneliness and offered her caring...

...learning more about her, her intelligence and love of learning, her determination to keep all she loved safe and happy, her own solitude and her struggle to find her place as someone so different from everyone around her, and coming to understand that his friendship mattered to her, too...

...treasuring every casual touch she gave him, every laugh, every time she smiled at him, how it healed his heart to know she never saw him as a monster the way he saw himself...

...knowing that all those blood-soaked centuries he'd borne would be worth something if only he could protect this new life she was a part of...

...the kiss, and he'd marveled at her response to his rash impulse, the look in her eyes stirring hope that she could love him, though he knew he had to court her slowly, carefully...

...that terrible night when his dreams had been corrupted into a desperate sacrifice, his helplessness to fight off the madness of the ardeur, holding her afterward as she slept and surrendering to the fear that he would never again be able to hold her, hoarding those few hours to last him for all the lonely centuries ahead...

I came back to awareness with tears on my cheeks, stunned and humbled by the depth of his love for me. The mental connection had abated but not broken, and I could feel his love and relief and the remains of the terrible fear he had hidden all the time I avoided him. I relaxed my own shields, letting him feel my joy, my respect, the love that I had not recognized until it was almost too late. I opened up to him and we saw...

...when I'd first seen him, he'd seemed so remote, so powerful and dangerous...

...but he had never threatened me, even when I teased and joked with him, and I came to feel that nothing could harm me as long as he was near...

...and then the night I'd asked him about the concert, I'd looked into his eyes and seen the confused emotions and perhaps that planted the seeds...

...because after that I'd seen it more and more, the hints of feeling, the subtle clues to his heart that were so clear now that my eyes had been opened, understood that he was a man of honor, worthy of trust yet fearing to give it...

...the way his eyes sparkled with humour that I treasured every time I saw it, and the day I'd realized that he drove me so hard in fighting lessons because he was truly afraid for me...

...that amazing kiss, and the book, both quiet offers to share himself with me...

...and that one moment of fighting through the ardeur to semi-sanity, reaching out to my protector to save me one more time, and later feeling the crushing guilt for what I had forced on him...

...coming to understand that even if things had been different, even if I had had the choosing of time and circumstance, I would still have wanted him, that he was only the only one I trusted with my body and my heart...

...wondering if I had anything to offer him, but knowing I had to risk rejection to make him believe how very precious he was to me...

He was holding me tightly, face buried in my hair, murmuring softly in his native Welsh, and though I didn't understand the words, the meaning came through clearly.

I kissed his cheek, then his forehead, and finally his lips and he sank into the kiss, the sweet longing of it reminding me not of the ardeur but the gentle introduction to passion that he had given me the day of my party. When the kiss ended I smiled at him, a tear running down my cheek. "Make love with me, Caden. No ardeur, just us, together, as we should be."

He tenderly brushed away the tear, his eyes bright with emotion. "Do you truly want this, Mara? You must be certain. I do not want you to come to me out of some misplaced guilt."

I smiled softly. "I do, Caden. I want this. I want you."

He closed his eyes, let out a breath like a sigh, and rested his forehead against mine. "We can always stop if you want."

"I know. But I won't." I took his face in my hands and forestalled any further arguments with a kiss. I traced my fingertips down his cheek and jawline, and he parted his lips in invitation.

The kiss deepened and my fingers found the top button of his shirt, working each button until I could slide my hands over the bare skin of his back. He sighed softly and shrugged off the shirt, still savoring my mouth. My hands played over the muscles of his arms - how could I have forgotten what a beautiful body he has?- and the power coursed through my veins, my magic recognizing his, combining and flowing through our bodies like a hot wave. His eyes had turned to solid emerald green fire, and I knew my own eyes were now a matching drowning blue. This was no external, forced need, but only long-suppressed desire, his and mine, kindling into a very personal ache for each others' touch.

He struggled a bit with the small buttons of my blouse, and when he had them undone, I slipped the blouse off my shoulders, reveling in the way his eyes drank me in.

"My darling," I murmured, and he came eagerly into my arms, pulling my body to his, and the feel of his bare skin against mine was overwhelming. His lips brushed the skin of my neck, then I felt the edge of his teeth on that sensitive spot and moaned. I buried my fingers in his hair, tilting my head back, abandoning myself to his explorations. Abruptly he caught me by the waist and lifted me to sit on the bureau, taking advantage of the new height to place a teasing kiss between my breasts. His hands on my waist reminded me of something... I sat straight up with a gasp, and he looked up, startled.

"You healed me!"

He blinked at me, and I clarified. "The last time. I was a virgin, and when we... it hurt, and you put your hands on me and healed me. I didn't know vampires of your line could do that."

"It's very rare. I can only do it in moments of... great emotion." He bent back to his explorations.

I almost asked more, but he slid the straps of my bra down my arms, his lips tracing down the skin it revealed, and suddenly I couldn't think of anything but his hands and his mouth on my body.

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(If you want to skip the love scene, scroll down to the next line of asterisks. But really, why would you want to?)

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I made a soft protesting sound when he moved away and he smiled wickedly, fingers toying along my skin near the fabric of my bra. "Such a delicate little garment, I like it. Perhaps I'll leave it on." He caught the upper edges in his fingers and pulled them downward with deliberate slowness, tracing his thumbs lightly over my nipples, eliciting a gasp from me. "Then again... perhaps I don't want anything in the way at all. I want to see every... last... inch of your lovely body."

I laughed shortly, trying to calm my pounding heart, puzzled yet warmed by this new playful side of him. "You first."

"As my lady requests." He stepped back, leaving me on my perch, and slowly undid his belt, his eyes holding mine. He pulled the belt unhurriedly from the loops and tossed it aside. "More?"

"Yes!" I gasped and he laughed, low and wicked.

"I adore that look in your eyes. You truly do want me," he said with a hint of sexy growl in his voice.

I leaned forward. "More." He undid his trousers with more urgency, sliding them down his legs and stepping out of them. I barely had time to enjoy the sight of his body bare except for silken shorts while he crossed quickly to me for another kiss, then trailed his lips down my neck. I twined my arms around his neck and tipped my head back to allow him better access to the tender flesh of my neck. His hands, which had lain politely on each side, touched my hips and traveled hesitantly up the sides of my body. I made a soft sound of pleasure and he became bolder, his hands moving upward until his thumbs caressed the undersides of my breasts.

"Yes," I moaned softly, and he trailed his kisses lower, between my breasts. I shivered when his tongue traced a damp trail along my breast to flick one nipple. He glanced up at my sharp intake of breath, but what he saw reassured him because he resumed his place kissing and nuzzling my breasts. I loosened my arms to run my hands down his back. It brought back memories of the ardeur, but the images no longer frightened me. Now I craved his touch and the feel of his body, and the memories of our last encounter only clarified what I wanted.

I touched his face, guiding it to mine for another kiss, and slid off the dresser, sliding my body against his, never breaking the deep kiss. I ran my hands down his sides, loving the feel of the lean muscle there, and then, more hesitantly, up to his chest. He closed his eyes, inhaling deeply, and it gave me pause. "Is that okay?" I asked, suddenly nervous.

He opened his eyes, and if emerald could glow with warmth, it would look like his eyes at that moment. "Oh yes," he whispered, clasping my hands against his chest. "I adore your touch, my beloved."

I blushed, both pleased and embarrassed, and looked down. He tipped my chin up again. "Don't. Don't hide from me." He slid his hand behind my neck and kissed me, gently but deeply, and I eagerly leaned into his kiss. He caught my hands and replaced them, and emboldened, I tested the planes of his body with my fingertips, then my hands. They continued downward and stopped at his waist, my fingers toying shyly at the edge of his only remaining garment.

I could feel his hard length pressed against me, and realizing what it meant, knowing that I had such an effect on him, gave me an incredibly sensual feeling of power. "I think we're both wearing too many clothes," I whispered against his lips.

He made a low sound of agreement, hands moving to undo my jeans. He pushed them down my legs, stroking the revealed skin until I stepped out of them. Still on one knee, he looked up at me with drowning green eyes, wrapping his arms around my waist, then buried his face in my midsection.

"Need you, need you so much..." I heard him murmur.

I gently turned his face up to mine. His eyelashes were like delicate lace against his pale cheeks, and I marveled at his beauty. I stroked down his shoulders and arms and pulled him to his feet, catching his mouth in a fervent kiss. My heart pounding in fear and anticipation, I pushed his shorts down his lean hips, then reached behind me to undo the bra. "Make love to me," I whispered.

He made a sound deep in his throat and lifted me easily into his arms, kissing me ravenously. He laid me down on the bed and tugged my panties over my hips, leaving us both completely bare to each others' gazes, then stood studying me as if to memorize every inch of my body. I blushed, suddenly shy, and forced myself not to cover up from his searching gaze. I let my eyes travel downward from his face, and caught my breath. His body was so strong, so masculine, that nervousness warred with attraction. My gaze flitted below his waist and I shivered. Was that going to fit into me? It had before. But it had hurt... at first. Gods, I just wanted to run, but I wouldn't do that to him. I felt cold there on the bed without him, and I held out my hand to him. "Caden..."

He came to me without hesitation and laid down next to me, just close enough to touch. He gave me a gentle, warming smile. "Don't be afraid. I won't hurt you. I'll never hurt you. We can stop, if you want."

"No," I whispered, and bit my lip. "Just... touch me, please."

"With the greatest pleasure," he murmured back. "And you may touch me however you like." How had he known exactly what I had been wondering?

Gazing into my eyes, he rested one hand on my back just below my shoulder, then moved it slowly down my back, over my bottom, to my thighs and then upward again, a soothing yet sensual touch, and I began to relax. I reached out and rested a hand on his waist, then propped myself up on my elbow and leaned forward to kiss him again. It felt so right to kiss him. I cuddled closer, encouraging his leisurely wanderings over my body. My own hand moved in imitation, stroking lightly over his skin, my nervousness nearly vanished in the wonder of his touch.

I opened my eyes to look into his from only inches away, and whispered, "I love you."

His eyes drifted shut, then he opened them and gave me a smile so tender and joyous that it made my throat tighten. "And I love you, my cariad, my beloved."

Almost without my noticing, his hand had moved to the front of my body, moving lightly from my thigh up my stomach to my breast. The sensations were unlike anything I had ever felt. The ardeur had been fierce need, desperate passion, but this... he touched me like I was something delicate, precious. He made me feel treasured.

I lay back and cuddled close to him again, and he smiled and leaned down to touch his lips to mine. I smiled back and wrapped my arms around him, memorizing him with my hands, suddenly surer in my desire. I wanted to make him feel as I did, to express to him with my hands and my body how much he meant to me.

His fingertips brushed my inner thigh, and I instinctively tensed, then made myself relax. "Don't be afraid," he whispered against my lips. His finger slid into me and I made a small sound that was part scared and part something else, my hands tightening on his shoulders. I'd braced for it to hurt, but it didn't. I relaxed, letting my thighs fall apart. He began to move the finger and I didn't know what to think. "How does that feel?" he asked softly, and I blinked up at him, surprised.

"I... It feels... good." I said softly, and I knew it was true. I was tense again, but instead of resisting the sensations, I was concentrating on them.

"Just lie back and enjoy it." His lips nuzzled my neck, and I made a sound that was not quite a sigh or a moan, but something between. I had just begun to get accustomed to the gentle rhythm when he added another finger. I began to shake, no longer entirely in control of my body. His teeth grazed my throat, his hair brushing across my kiss-sensitized lips, and I breathed in the scent of him with every breath. He filled my senses, drowning out all else.

"Caden, please..." I pleaded in a voice completely unlike my own.

"Shhh..." he quieted me.

I opened my eyes- I didn't even remember closing them- and watched him. He was frowning slightly down my body, focusing on his task with the same singular concentration he devoted to his warrior training. He looked up as if sensing my attention. His eyes held passion, tenderness, and yet there was also something darker- a possessive satisfaction. He knew exactly what he was doing to me, and a part of him savored how helpless I was in his arms, that he alone could affect me like this. That hint of darkness in my gentle lover made me shiver inside, my breath catching, my body tightening around his fingers. He held me as I writhed, nuzzling my throat while I sobbed out my pleasure.

When it was over I clung to him, my heart pounding, willing my breathing to slow. Feeling a bit guilty for getting so wrapped up in my own pleasure that I had neglected his, I squirmed downward in his arms, slipping one arm around his waist, and applied my tongue to his nipple, teasing it as he had teased mine. His breath escaped in a soft rush and I felt a hint of the same wicked satisfaction I had seen in his eyes. I smoothed my hand over his body, exploring him with no trace of my former self-consciousness. It was if he had made me his, and at the same time made himself mine. I transferred my ministrations to his other nipple. His breath came quicker, and I hid a smile, my body reacting to his response, making me realize that what I yearned to give him and what I wanted for myself were not at all incompatable. I looked up at him, wondering how to verbalize my request.

"Cariad?" he asked softly. "What is it?"

"I... I want..." I said hesitantly, and he waited, watching my face. I couldn't even think of the words, so I moved my hand move down his hip and the front of his body to dance my fingers over the hard, very male part of him. His breath caught when my fingers brushed him and he closed his eyes. "I want you inside me," I said shyly. "If you want," I added nervously.

"If I want," he laughed softly, "My beloved, you have no idea... Are you sure?"

"Yes," I said, and I was.

He crawled gracefully over me, putting a hand on either side of my body, his proximity making me bite my lip. I caressed his hip with my leg, and he took the invitation, moving between my legs and gently guiding them to each side of his body. I'd begun to tense again, but he stroked his hands down my legs and gave me that sweet, loving smile. "Please trust me, cariad."

"I do." I took a deep breath and let the tension flow out of my body.

He lifted my hips in his strong hands, then carefully slid into me. He gradually worked his way in with my eager encouragement until he was sheathed completely within me. He gasped a fervent oath and I arched my back, crying out, fingers digging into the bedclothes. Needing to touch him, I rose on one elbow and held out my arm to him, and he carefully let himself down against me.

He pushed up on his hands, looking down at me with a frown of concern. "Am I too heavy for you?"

"No. No, this feels... this feels so good." I pulled him against me, holding him as close as I could. His body trembled, his lips sought mine and I returned his kiss hungrily, arching my hips to him again, but he stilled them with a touch.

"Slowly, please. We have centuries, my cariad, my beloved. I want to savor this." He slowly withdrew and I moaned, my hands exploring the curves and planes of his back. He touched my face, making me look at him. His eyes burned with emotion as he watched me.

I heard someone pleading softly, "Please please I love you please make love to me," and realized it was me. Every inch of my skin that touched him burned, every movement he made seemed magnified by his exquisite slowness, and I couldn't touch him enough to satisfy my longing for him.

It could have been hours or days that he made love to me so carefully, building the passion inch by inch. Then his fingers sought and caressed my most sensitive spot and I fell, crying out his name while hot waves of pleasure flowed through my body. I felt him gasp and stiffen, his head dropped to my shoulder, and he gasped my name, nearly sobbing into my skin. I held him tightly while we rode out our pleasure, and soon the waves abated, leaving me weak and sated in their wake.

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He sagged against me and buried his face in my hair and I could hear him speaking softly in Welsh.

"If you keep that up, I'm going to have to learn Welsh just to understand your pillow talk," I gently teased him, stroking his hair tenderly, entranced by its softness.

He looked up at me, blinking in that slow graceful way. "I love you. I love you so much. Please do not ever send me away, cariad. I'll live every night for you, I swear."

"Oh, my darling." I cuddled closer to him. "I said I love you, and I meant it."

He propped himself up on his elbows and looked into my eyes, and I could see pained fear in the depths of his beautiful emerald eyes. "You might not say that if you knew what I've done."

"Caden, I know you were the Dragon's personal assassin. My father was a slave of the Vampire Council too. I know what they're like. I'll never blame you or love you less for what you were forced to do to survive." He shook his head and hid his face between my breasts. I stroked his back gently. "Those days are over. You have a home with us now. With me. You're loved and needed here, and you'll never be a slave again."

He rolled off me, laying on his side next to me, one arm around my waist keeping me close. He studied me, his eyes so very serious, then seemed to decide. "Emrys."

I frowned in confusion. "Hmm?"

He looked at me very seriously. "Caden was what the Dragon called me when she made me. My name is Emrys. Emrys ap Kynan."

"Emrys," I smiled, testing the name. "I love you, Emrys ap Kynan."

He laughed joyously and pulled me closer.

"What does it mean?" I asked drowsily some time later.

"Hmm?" I had never heard such a languorous sound from him, and it warmed me down to my toes.

"Your name." I pressed a kiss to his shoulder, and thought how adorable he was with his tousled hair and unrestrainedly happy expression making him look years younger.

"Oh, that. Emrys, son of Kynan." He trailed a hand idly down the curve of my back.

I huffed in annoyance. "I knew that much, silly. You know what I mean."

He chuckled softly. "Yes, I do. Emrys means 'immortal'."

"How very appropriate."

"Mmm." I could hear the smile in his voice.

I was silent for a while, thinking. "What about Caden?"

"'Spirit of Battle'"

"Hmph. That sounds like something the Dragon would like." I wiggled my way upward to fold my arms on his chest and rest my chin on them, gazing into his face. "I like Emrys better."

He gave me a smile that melted my heart. "I hoped you might."

"So why don't you start using Emrys again? You can now, you know."

He considered that for a moment. "Perhaps. However, I have a certain fearsome reputation as Caden which could help to deter potential enemies. It would be wiser not to discard such an advantage."

"I suppose," I said reluctantly. "It seems a shame, though."

He laughed and hugged me, and I loved the way his deep green eyes were shining with happiness. "If you call me by my name when we are alone, then it is enough. As long as you know who I truly am, and love me, I am content."

"I guess this would be a good time to quote that line from Shakespeare, but that's so overdone, so I won't." I smile in response to his soft laugh. "I'll just say that I'd love you no matter what you were called."

He toys with a curl of my hair next to my face. "Do you remember the first thing I ever said to you?"

I smile reminiscently. "How could I forget?"

I stand in Asher's arms as my father's vampires surround the new vampire. He looks tired and somewhat disheveled but he has an air of power and danger that even I can feel. Asher pulls me back protectively as they pass, but the strange vampire stops. The other vampires tense, but he only gazes steadily at me, then at my father, then back at me. I try not to shiver when his shockingly green eyes meet mine. "So you are the little miracle. I had not believed it was possible, but I see now it is true."

I swallowed, trying to force my voice to remain steady. "Mother always said I was an impossible child."

His eyes widen, and I see a glint of humour there. "I hope you are, little Marvelle. I hope you are." He walks out of the room, still surrounded by the cluster of guards. I watch him leave, wondering why it feels like my universe has suddenly tilted a little sideways.

"Talk about a heck of an opening line."

He smooths the hair away from my face, and I turn my face into the caress. "Little did I know how true my words would be. And now you are my miracle as well as your father's."

"Careful you don't put me on such a high pedestal that you can't reach me." I laugh a little uncomfortably. "I'd hardly call it a miracle that someone could love you. It just so happens I have very good taste."

"Always the jokes," he says affectionately, tugging at one of my curls, and I scoot up to kiss him.

"What? It's true. Anyway, there's one thing I'm totally serious about."

"Again? You are voracious, my love."

"Mmm. Only for you."

But dawn came much too soon, and he rose to go to his coffin.

"Must you go?" I asked plaintively.

He smiled, a sad, tender look. "I do not think you are prepared to be that close with me when the dawn takes me."

I sighed, then got out of bed. "I'll walk with you."

We walked to the coffin room holding hands. It was empty when we got there. I stood on tiptoe to put my arms around his neck, and he held me close.

I drew back to look into his eyes. "Does this mean you're my lover now?" I asked a little shyly.

"I will be your lover forever if that is what you want, cariad." Gods, I loved it when he smiled at me like that.

"My lover, forever," I said softly, testing the sound of the words, and smiled brilliantly. "Yes. I want that."

He looked up, hearing others approach, and gave me a quick kiss. Then he climbed into his coffin, giving me one last smile before closing the lid. As the others came in, I stood gazing at the coffin, hugging his robe around my body, breathing his scent from the fabric and savoring the lingering feel of his loving all over my body. I missed him already, the sweet pain of it mixed with joy, contentment, confusion, and a wealth of other emotions. My lover...

"So let me fall, if I must fall. I won't heed your warnings. I won't hear them." I sang softly to myself as I moved around the kitchen. "I will dance so freely, holding on to no one. You can hold me only if you, too, will fall, away from all these useless fears and chains..." I was singing the vocalization, enjoying the graceful sweep between notes, as Jason came into the kitchen.

"Hey kiddo," he smiled.

"Hey, Jason. I didn't know you were here tonight." I flashed him a smile.

He tipped his head, studying me. "Welcome to the club, kiddo."

"Sorry, what?"

He grinned. "The crazy-in-love club. Never thought you'd get your card so soon, but I guess you come by the hot French blood honestly."

I actually blushed. "Is it that obvious?"

"Well, aside from the fact you don't usually sing in the kitchen..." he grinned at my discomposure. "Even if it a depressing song."

"You think "Let Me Fall" is depressing?"

"It sounds depressing."

"Wow. I've always thought it seemed exultant. It's about letting go of all the things that hold you back. Taking a chance."

He looked amused. "And you should know about that."

I laugh, trying to stifle my too-obvious happiness.

"I'm glad you worked things out." His grin softened to a smile. "I just hope he makes you happy."

"Or what?" I laughed. "You'll kick his butt?"

"Hell no, are you kidding?" he exclaimed, and we both laughed. "I'd probably die trying, though." he added, a touch more seriously. "You know you're the closest I'll ever have to a daughter."

"Aw, Jason." I strode across the room and hugged him.

I came into the kitchen one night to find it already occupied by a handful of lycanthropes and oddly enough, Caden. He has the same coolly impassive expression he always has around others, but there is a hint of smile in his eyes just for me. I walked toward the back to get a glass, but he held out a glass of grape juice to me.

"You always come for a drink when you're done with the computer," he said with that slight smile. He is still not comfortable showing his affection openly in front of others, but he does little, sweet things like this to show me how he feels. Plus he more than makes up for it in private. That's just his way.

I smile back, taking the glass, and stand on my tiptoes to give him a quick kiss. Immediately the kitchen is filled with cheers and catcalls.

"Get a room, you two!"

We part and Caden glares around the table. Jason holds up his hands. "Wasn't me, man, don't kick my ass."

Caden gives him a cool look. "Don't be absurd, Jason, I would never raise a hand to you."

Jason gives us an eyebrows-up look of surprise, and I shrug back. Don't ask me. I blink at Caden.

He is leaning against the counter, arms crossed, perfectly relaxed. He meets our surprised gazes and shrugs gracefully. "If I did," he remarks in a casual tone, "I would be in the doghouse for weeks."

A moment of disbelieving silence, then the room exploded in laughter.

"Are you feeling okay?" Jason chokes out. "Hell, am I feeling okay? Did Caden really just crack a joke?"

I was still recovering. I didn't even know he knew that slang term! "Try months, my darling," I manage.

"You should've gotten laid years ago, man," Caleb adds. My smile immediately fades and I glare, and Caden turns a truly glacial stare on him until he subsides. "Just kidding," he mumbles, but Caden ignores him. I keep glaring, and he drops his eyes.

Jason gives me a skeptical look. "I'd like to see you keep your hands off him that long."

I cock an eyebrow at him. "Jealous?"

"Yeah right. If Selene was part succubus she'd probably kill me. 'Course, I'd die happy," he grinned.

"Way too much information, Jason." I make a face.

"I'm just saying I know what it's like to be a tired and happy man, that's all."

"Oh gawd." I cover my face with my hands. Life at the Circus, gotta love it.

It was normal for my father to have me work a shift at one of his businesses, but the look on his face when I came in one night a few weeks later told me this was not going to be just another night at work. "We need to talk, Marvelle."

Uh-oh.

I followed him to his office. He sat down behind the desk, looking away as if lost in thought. "You must know what I want to say."

My dread got a little worse. I nodded. "I think I've got an idea."

He rubbed his eyes tiredly. "I blame myself for much of this. It is my blood in your veins that forces you to some of the decisions you've had to make. If I could have protected you... But cherie, you are still terribly young."

"Papa, I hope you're not saying you're sorry I was born. There's no other way that what I am could have been changed."

"I would never say or feel that, Marvelle. But I cannot help regretting how soon your childhood ended, or feeling at least in part responsible for it." He laced his fingers together on the desk in front of him.

"Mon p�re, I don't regret being your daughter, and the rest can't be helped. I'm nearly seventeen, I already know that life is hard, et cetera."

He smiled briefly, but it was tinged with sadness. "You have dealt with events as well as I could ever have hoped. I know you have always had to be careful, but I must caution you that now you must be more so. I wish it were not this way, but your new powers are a difficult maze you will have to navigate. I do not wish for what happens now to set the stage for worse problems in the future."

He held up a pale, slender hand to forestall my answer. "I know you have realized that, but I do not believe you understand the extent of it. You must beware of the way you face the new obstacles." His eyes met mine. "Caden..."

"He loves me, Papa," I said quickly.

"I believe that, Marvelle. I would not have imagined when he came to us that I would ever say such a thing of him, but I do. Still, I wonder if you understand the extent to which your own powers may be affecting your relationship."

That I wasn't expecting. "Papa?"

"Ma fille, you were a child when all this began, knowing almost nothing of love or sex. Can you be certain, truly certain, that what you feel for him is not driven by your new need for passion?"

I frowned. "What are you saying, that my own powers could be binding me to him?"

"That is a good way to phrase it, yes. Out of necessity, he was the one who helped bring you into your power. Your magic knows him, and has bound you both to each other."

I stared at him in dawning horror. "Both... my gods, my power is forcing him to love me?"

My father sat forward, taking my hand comfortingly. "Not to love, no, but desire, possibly. But we do not know that, cherie. He has a great deal of power, and yours is very new. If he chose to fight it, you could almost certainly not hold him."

I felt like I'd been punched in the chest, unable to catch my breath. "And if he didn't fight it?"

Papa's eyes flicked away, and it was a confirmation of my worst fears. "He cared for you before you went to his bed, this I know. If I had not known before that, the pain in his eyes that night when he realized what was happening to you would have proven it."

"But he didn't know what would happen, what my power could do to him. To us."

"No one could know before it happened. We could not have predicted what form your powers would take."

"And him? Have you told him any of this?"

"I did." My father was suddenly absorbed in looking at his hands. "He would not hear me. He said only that he chose to be yours before your powers could have bound him."

"And you're saying my feelings for him might be an illusion. You're saying that," I choked in bitter laughter, "...I vamped myself? And that I can't tell my desire from actual love?"

He could not look at me. "I have been where you are. The feelings are extremely powerful, even overwhelming. Do you not think your relationship became very close, very suddenly?"

"No." I said, shaking my head in vehement denial. "No. I won't believe it."

"Cherie..."

"No! If our feelings are all metaphysically driven, then why did the ardeur nearly drive us apart? I couldn't even look at him for weeks."

"The trauma..."

"I won't believe it," I whispered. "All I feel for him, how much I love him, it can't just be vampire tricks. It's not." But I wasn't nearly as sure as my words. I lunged out of my chair, to the opposite wall, my back turned to my father. The anger became too much to bear, and I slammed both fists into the wall. "It's NOT!" I turned my back to the wall and slid down it until I sat on the floor, hiding my face in my knees. "It can't be."

I felt my father's hands on my shoulders. "There is only one way to be sure. You must learn to control your powers."

"Now focus on the crowd. Focus on the women, on their excitement. Let it wash over you," my father instructed.

It was hours later, and we were attempting to find out if I could feed on lust from a distance the way he did. I tried to clear my mind, to see their wide eyes and flushed cheeks, and open myself to what they felt. I could see it; I could even feel it, distantly.

"You must relax your shields. You are blocking them out."

"Father, how can I release my shields? You know what damage my power might have already done, how can I risk letting it loose again?"

"I am here, ma fille. I will be able to suppress your power from affecting anyone. You must learn how to sense it and control it."

It just was not the best night for it. My mind was still reeling from our talk earlier, and I couldn't keep down the repugnance I felt at the thought of controlling someone with my powers- worse, controlling Caden with my powers. How could Belle Morte and other vampires of her line enjoy such uses of their abilities? It sickened me to think I had done it, even by accident.

Caden... Something inside me purred just at the thought of him. I could see him... Suddenly the horror I felt warred with something else. A memory came unbidden into my head of running my hands over his lean-muscled shoulders, his face turned up to me, his eyes gone pure shining green with desire. My unbound hair falling in a black curtain over our bodies as we...

At once I was filled with the lust, suffused with it, drowning in it. As if my own memories of passion had opened a door, I was flooded with the sensation, the heat of yearning. I staggered from the weight of it, and felt my father's hands catch my shoulders. So much power in the room, like a warm sea electric with life, flooding my body with new strength. It felt so good, so very good. I yearned to leave this place, find my lover, share it with my Emrys, run my hands and my magic over him...

The warmth turned to ice water over me, and I shuddered hard. How could I ever touch him again, not knowing if he truly wanted me or if it was my own power making him willing? How could I ever use these new powers when they might have already done such damage? I jerked away from Papa, not wanting anyone's touch. What had I become? Abruptly I wished I could have remained virgin, blissfully unaware, powers unkindled.

"Ma fille, I know you hurt, but you must not think of it. All you can do to help yourself and Caden is learn to feed your power in other ways so that you will not blindly seek fulfillment. Once you know the feel of your powers, you can control them."

How could I control this? The power had felt all-encompassing before the pain had chased it away. Instinctively I had clamped down my shields, shutting away the intoxicating emotion. Slowly I let the heavy barriers dissolve, but still the flood of lust did not reenter me. I needed to feel my own ardor, but all of my memories of passion were bound up with Caden, and that was too painful to think of. My heart hurt for him- if this wasn't love, it damn sure was painful enough to be. I forced myself to think of Bobby, the kisses he had stolen in our brief time, his hands on me, but it didn't work. The passion just wasn't there. And thinking of Caden... Emrys, my mind whispered, and my chest constricted with emotion... was wrapped round with guilt, misery and conflict. It was no use. I knew how to do it, but I couldn't as long as I felt this way.

And I knew something else, too. If it turned out that my connection with my beloved Emrys truly was false, I'd never again be able to summon the feelings I needed from memories of him so I could feed. I would have to get them from somewhere else. I would have to take another lover.

I barely made it to the bathroom before I was sick.

My father found me curled on the floor of the stall. "I won't do it," I told him savagely. "I won't do this again. I don't care. It's too much."

"Cherie, I understand how you feel..."

"No, you don't. You can't. You had plenty of lovers before you ever had to deal with this. He's all I've ever had. If what I've had with him isn't real, if it turns out I've just made a slave of him, then I won't even have the memories to draw on. And I'll never be able to be with anyone else without wondering if my power is all that makes them come to me. Without feeling like some kind of magical rapist."

Papa's face thinned, paled. Anger? "That is not what you are, Marvelle. I would have spared you this if I could, but I cannot. It is part of what you are, and you must make peace with your powers."

"The hell I do," I said hoarsely.

"You are far more your mother's daughter than I knew. She too resisted the pull of the power. But even she eventually accepted necessity. So must you."

"She has the ardeur. I don't. And I'm not part of a triumvirate. Nobody relies on me for life or strength. Nobody but me suffers for my choice," I replied stubbornly.

"Suffer," he hissed. "Yes, that is precisely what you would do. You would weaken and waste away, the need clawing at your mind and will until you have no choice but to feed it, because you can do nothing else. Do you remember what the ardeur felt like? Do you want to feel that way again? That is what will happen if you do not find a way to fulfill your needs. If you locked yourself away, you would die in madness and pain. I have seen it happen to one of Belle's line. It is a hideous way to die."

I looked away from him, my face set, my jaw clenched stubbornly.

Papa actually growled. "I can do nothing with you. Struggle with your morals if you must. But you will give in eventually, and all you will have accomplished is making it worse on yourself." He stood and walked out of the bathroom, every line of his body radiating anger. But I remembered that last glimpse of his face, and the look in his eyes hadn�t been anger; it was fear.

I dragged myself down the stairs into the Circus. I was so angry and worn out that I had narrowly avoided getting into accidents several times on the way home. I tried to slip to my bedroom without meeting anyone else, but Caden heard me enter.

"My beloved,� he smiled and kissed me, his hands cupping my face tenderly. I stood stiffly and tried not to enjoy the kiss, but I could not help it; the feel and taste of him was like a drug that my body craved. Was this terrible wanting the only reason he was mine? Pain stabbed through me at the thought.

He moved back, staring at me with those emerald eyes, and my chest tightened. He was so beautiful. "Cariad?" he whispered. "What has happened?"

"Emrys," I closed my eyes to avoid looking at him. It was an effort of will not to touch him. He raised a hand to my face, and I flinched away. "Please don't. I can't..."

"Is this about what your father told me?" he asked. I opened my eyes, and his face was set in harsh lines. "About your powers?"

I looked away. "I swore to you that you'd never be a slave again," I whispered. "And now I may have enslaved you myself. What does that make me?"

He muttered a curse. "Listen to me. I cannot blame your father for thinking such a thing possible, but I know the truth. I loved you before the ardeur forced us into each other�s arms. You have touched my heart, seen my memories of you, and I have seen yours. Our love is real. You must know how foolish it is to think otherwise."

"I don't. How could I know? I don't know anything about love. I thought I did, but now I'm not so sure. Do you? Can you really be sure? You may be five hundred years old, but somehow I think the Dragon didn't allow you a lot of experience with love affairs."

Something in his face flickered, but he stepped closer, took my face in his hands, forcing me to look at him. "I know what I feel. I came to you willingly. I was yours before your powers had a chance to affect me. If I am your slave now, carwr, my lover, I am a willing one. You have given me more joy and contentment than I ever imagined possible. I do not need your power to make me want you. I would love you regardless."

"My darling Emrys," I whispered, pressing my cheek to his hand. "I never doubted your love. That's why I'm so afraid for you. Maybe what I feel isn't love, I don't know. But I couldn't live with myself if I hurt you. And now I can't stop fearing I will. That I have already."

His deep green eyes searched my face, then he bent and kissed me. "That is my risk to take." He slid his arms around my waist, pressing me tight against his body. I kept my wits enough to slam down my shields over the surge of my magic, but I could not stop my body from reacting to him. He swept me up into his arms and carried me into my bedroom. He was thorough and ruthless, employing every trick, every touch and kiss he knew I loved best, to make my body and soul burn for him. I knew I should have refused, and it almost sprang to my lips a dozen times. A single word of refusal and he would have stopped.

But I never said that word.

And looking into his burning green eyes, I wondered if I would ever have the strength to do it.

Is that love?

I lay awake later, lost in troubling thoughts. Emrys lay snuggled against me, asleep. I studied him as if to memorize every detail- the dark hair, normally so neat, now mussed from our loving, the vampire-pale skin, the high, perfect cheekbones, the lips that were so delightfully kissable, his dark eyelashes against his cheeks giving him an air of innocence. He murmured in his sleep and I touched his cheek, stroked it gently, and he quieted.

He had started to relax a little around the others, but not like this. Only I ever saw him so vulnerable. With others he always kept that dangerous edge, but alone with me he was sweet, gentle, loving. Like another man entirely. A man he has had to hide away for centuries behind a cold, impermeable exterior to keep him from being destroyed entirely, in soul if not in body.

He doesn't hide from me. But is it his choice, or my powers? Certainly I had begun to see glimpses of this other man, Emrys, before the night of the ardeur. He had cared for me, perhaps even loved me. I knew I had cared for him too, but it was hard for me to look back at my own feelings without the coloring of the magical bond between us. I wished I could have faith in us the way he did, but I couldn't banish the fear. What we had seemed so new, so fragile. He was so fragile with me.

"No," he murmurs in his sleep, in French. I had never heard him speak French when he was awake. "No, no, please don't make me. Please, I can't."

"Emrys," I say softly, and touch his shoulder, trying to wake him gently.

But whatever dream has hold of him won't let go so easily. "Please don't, I can't, I beg you... NO!" His body jerks back onto the pillow, and I hurriedly get up and catch his shoulders, shaking him a little. He gives a choked sob.

"Emrys. Cariad. Wake up, it's okay. Please wake up, beloved."

He gasps and his eyes fly open. "Quoi?" He blinks several times and then focuses on me. It occurs to me that I'm wearing nothing but the sheet that is already below my waist and losing the battle with gravity, but it doesn't bother me. He has seen it all anyway, and right now he could use a distraction.

"Emrys, sweetheart. It was only a dream." He sat up and caught hold of me, pulling me close and hiding his face in my shoulder, shaking. I held him tightly, murmuring comfortingly. "It's okay, it was just a dream. I'm here." He mumbles something incoherent into my shoulder.

"No," he says a bit more clearly.

"What?"

He shivers once, then gathers himself and looks up at me. "Not a dream. A memory."

"Oh, cariad." I'd feared as much. "It's over now, beloved. You're here now, you're safe. Do you want to tell me about it?"

"No," he says quickly, and then says a bit more firmly, "No. You are right, it is over, it is past. There is no point speaking of it."

My therapist would disagree, but I do not push him. Gwen is very good, but is there a psychology textbook that covers spending centuries enslaved by sadistic master vampires? Doubtful.

Well, I'll do what I can. I take his face in my hands, making him look at me, and kiss him tenderly. He takes a deep breath, opens his eyes, and gives me a shy hint of a smile. It's that smile that convinces me I can't abandon him. Whatever my power has done, he needs me now. For good or ill, he is mine, my responsibility. And that means something to me.
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Cutting Shards