“Dios, Laurent, no pressure, huh?” Paul felt a surge of frustration.
“Please, Paul, I have tried to be patient but now I must know. What is your decision?” Laurent’s voice nearly broke on the last word. Hearing the agony in the other man’s tone made him feel like the worst kind of jerk.
“Laurent…” He ran a hand through his blond hair, which was getting a little long for his taste. “Damn it, do we have to do this now?”
“I am afraid so. If you are going to break the bond then I need some time to recover before I can travel. You will too—as Nana has warned us, it is a painful experience on more than one level.”
“Yeah, yeah, I know.” Paul blew out a breath. “She’s always saying mierta like that to me whenever you’re not around.”
“She is afraid you’re going to hurt me.” Laurent looked at him directly. “Are you, Paul?”
“Madre de Dios.” Paul pulled away from the other man’s arms and began to pace in front of the window. “I’ve been thinking about this a lot. A hell of a lot. Laurent, you know I want to be with you.”
“Then be with me. Let us stay together, let our bond be unbroken.”
“We can’t do that. You know I can’t go back to the pack or my dad’s shop looking like this.” He pointed at the neat sets of fang marks that decorated his throat.
“No, I suppose you can’t.” Laurent looked down.
Paul tried to explain. “It would be fucking suicide, ’mano. They’d know right away what we’ve been doing—or at least guess. And then if my old man didn’t kill me, the pack sure as hell would. There’s nothing worse than being a maricon in my world.
Except being a vamp lover.”
“So you at least admit that we’re lovers?” Laurent sounded bitter.
Paul shifted uncomfortably. “I don’t know what we are but whatever it is, it’s not something anybody in my life could accept. I mean, my stepmom might get it but even she’s freaked out by the idea of me being with a muerto. ”
Laurent lifted his chin. “So that’s it then? That is your decision? We’ve had a good time but now we need to get back to reality and you can’t do that with my marks on you. So you are going to break the bond and we’ll never see each other again.”
“What do you want me to say? That we can tell everybody else in our lives to fuck off and go live happily fucking ever after together? It doesn’t work that way, Laurent.
Not in my world.”
“Fine.” Laurent nodded tersely. “If that’s the way you feel, then let us end this now.”
“Laurent, come on…”
“No.” The vampire crossed his arms over his chest. “You want to be free of me—of the bond—then do it. Pull it out, destroy it.”
Rage and frustration bubbled up, too hot to contain. “Godammit, you stupid hijo de puta, you know I don’t want to do this!”
“Yes, but you’re going to anyway.” Laurent’s voice was remote, his eyes cold. “All I ask is that you do it quickly. Don’t prolong the pain. Just do it.” “Fine, I will.” Closing his eyes, Paul groped inside himself, searching for the part of him that was tied to Laurent. In his mind’s eye he saw the two trees, silver and gold, their branches entwined. So beautiful. So fragile. Don’t want to do this. But he had to. I’ll only take out my half though—won’t mess with his. Steeling himself against the pain, Paul pictured himself grabbing the golden tree by its slender trunk. Then he pulled.
The pain was immediate and intense. He could feel it in the very center of his chest—like trying to yank out a tooth without using Novocain. But it wasn’t just a physical pain. As he pulled, he felt a wave of loss—an anguish so overwhelming that it took his breath away and his eyes flew open. Not just my pain, he realized. Laurent’s too.
He’s feeling it as well.
Yes, mon amour—I cannot help but feel it. Laurent looked up at him and though Paul could tell he was trying to keep his face blank, there were tears standing in his pale green eyes.
Dios, Laurent…
Finish it! If you’re going to do it don’t delay. I do not know how long I can bear this.
Laurent crossed his arms over his chest and hugged himself tightly, as though he were trying to keep from falling apart.
This is hurting him. Have to do it quick. Paul closed his eyes and tried again. The pain he felt from his end of the bond was bad—very fucking bad. It drove him to his knees.
But though the wrenching, tearing sensation that seemed to come from the very center of his being was the worst thing Paul had ever felt, Laurent’s pain was even worse.