CHAPTER 72: THE LINGERING TRAUMA II

Seamus paused, unsure how to answer. Diane was, in his eyes, still just an extension of her mother’s will. He suspected every soft look, every careful word of hers that felt like a wolf in sheep’s skin.

Getting close to him was her mother’s idea, to peel him open, find his weakness, and place it in her mother’s hand.

She was a Velstrath vampire, after all. In this family, madness was the common bloodline, and he couldn’t convince himself she was any different.

But still... a small, treacherous part of him wanted to believe her

He turned to her, voice edged. "Why do you care, Diane? Do you want to run back and tell your mother all about it?"

"What? Why would I?" Her eyes narrowed, startled by the accusation. "I’m just... I don’t even know how I feel about you. But I’d never try to snitch you to my mother!"

There was a flicker of hurt across her face, but Seamus didn’t let himself believe it. Pretty faces in this house had fooled him before.

Even Viviane, who had truly loved him, had been swallowed by this house and he had driven her to death.

"Why should I believe you," he said, "when you keep clinging to me, begging me to talk? You’re just a spy for Isolde, a lackey. And yes, I heard everything you said to her in the office."

Diane’s eyes widened. He had struck the truth.

⋯

That had been only two days after Diane arrived, one day before Seamus’s first massacre of the scavengers.

He still remembered them standing together in the office.

Diane had stood in her mother’s shadow like the obedient daughter she was, answering each command without hesitation.

"You need to stay close to him," Isolde had ordered. "He’s still unstable."

"Yes, Mother."

"Don’t forget to report everything. His state of mind must stay manageable. I enjoy him when he sits quietly, like a well-trained doll, but even dolls lose their charm eventually."

Isolde had sighed, staring out the window at the brown leaves falling onto cold stone.

Another grim season in Bork was beginning, but the office felt darker still as Diane finally spoke.

"But are you sure about reviving Viviane? Everyone knows what lies on the other side of that taboo technique—"

"Diane." Isolde’s voice had been a warning. "You don’t have to involve yourself. Just do as I say."

Diane had hesitated, lips pressing together, but then nodded slowly, swallowing her words.

...

"Seamus... that’s—" Diane stopped herself, swallowing her words. Her hands trembled in her lap. "I’m just worried about you... And about my sister’s revival. You know that—"

"Shut up!" Seamus snapped, the frustration spilling over.

"I know the consequences of the revival! I know the risks, and I still want to try! So don’t get in my way, Diane. You don’t care about your sister’s death! You’re just like your mother—"

The crack of her palm cut him off. He froze, stunned, as the sting burned across his cheek. Diane’s face was twisted, her whole body shaking, her voice raw and hoarse.

"What do you know about me?!" she cried. "What do you know about my relationship with Viviane?"

She bit her lip hard, as if to keep the tears from falling. "You might have lost your lover, Seamus... but I lost my sister." She turned, already half-rising from the sofa.

Seamus’s anger drained, replaced by a cold jolt of shame. He had never had a sibling; he didn’t understand what it meant to grow up with someone and lose them.

Diane had known Viviane far longer than he had. In Viviane’s own memories, the sisters had been inseparable, protecting each other.

If Viviane could see how he was treating Diane now, she would be disappointed.

He reached out, catching Diane’s hand before she could leave. "I’m so sorry, Diane," he said quietly. "I just... I feel lost. I don’t know what to do, or what to feel. I don’t know..."

She turned back, cupping his face between her cold palms. "Oh, Seamus. I know. I understand. The reason I don’t show my emotions is that my mother won’t allow it."

Her forehead touched his, a soft, desperate gesture. "You know how she treated my sister. What makes you think she hasn’t done the same to me? The only difference is that I chose to obey... while my sister refused."

Up close, with Diane’s scent of lilies, her features blurred with Viviane’s in his mind. For an instant it felt like Viviane was there, comforting him the way she used to.

His heart ached. Without thinking, he raised a hand to Diane’s cheek and kissed her, a soft, trembling kiss.

It was their first, but in his mind, it didn’t belong to Diane. It belonged to the shadow of her sister.

The kiss deepened almost without warning. Heat flared between them as Diane’s hand slid to the back of his neck, drawing him closer until their tongues met, slow at first and then hungrily, their breath mingling, their saliva tasting of copper and longing.

Seamus eased her down onto the sofa, lips still on hers, fingers finding the buttons of her blouse and undoing them one by one with deliberate care.

When at last their mouths parted, both were panting. Diane’s cheeks were flushed, her eyes shining with a softness he had never seen before.

"Seamus... I know so much about you from my sister’s letters," she whispered, a rare smile curving her lips.

"I could feel her happiness on every page, every word, every image. It felt like reading a dream."

She drew in a shaky breath. "Thank you for making her happy, even for such a short time. At least she had that kind of love from you before she was gone. I’m sure she’ll thank you herself when she wakes again one day."

"Really?" His voice dropped, heavy with guilt. "Don’t you think she’ll hate me?"

Diane shook her head firmly. "I know her. That’s the last thing she would ever do. She would rather die than feel that way."

Seamus’s eyes widened. The words were almost identical to something Viviane herself had once said.

"Thank you, Diane," he murmured, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "You can drink my blood as much as you want, as thanks."

Diane gave a low, throaty laugh. "Oh, I will!"

"But I won’t stop searching for a Vitalis Core that matches her..."

"I understand. I don’t expect you to stop either. I just want you to be more careful."

He said nothing more. Inwardly, though, a decision hardened.

He wouldn’t trust Diane yet, not until she proved through actions, not words, that she was truly on his side and not her mother’s.

Words were beautiful, about those letters, about their relationship. However, what Seamus saw in Labyrinth of Dream was from Viviane’s point of view and not Diane’s.

She could just lie about it all and use this sentiment to attack him later or control him.

For now, he kept that thought locked behind his teeth, where it belonged.