by Nicole Grane
Chapter 16: Demands
With each passing hour, I felt more and more anxious about returning to England.
“Are you alright?” Marcus asked as he reached over and held my hand like he’d done so many times this flight.
“I was just thinking about the last time I traveled here . . . so much has happened since then.”
“I promise: no werewolf will bite you this time.”
“I’m not exactly worrying about the werewolves,” I muttered under my breath.
Marcus's forehead creased. “You’re worried about vampires.”
“Obviously.”
“You needn’t worry. My home is very secluded; I don’t have many visitors.”
“I thought you belonged to a coven?”
“I do, but I don’t reside with the coven. I still live in my family home. It’s more private. I’m only disturbed when the Moon Hunters desire to meet,” he explained.
“So other vampires will be there?”
“On occasion,” Marcus hesitated with his answer.
“You’re not worried they’ll . . .” I leaned in closer, “. . . smell me?” My voice was almost a whisper.
“Mmm. You do smell good,” he mused as he slowly moved his nose along the side of my cheek, inhaling deeply. I involuntarily shivered.
“You really could take me anytime you wanted . . . couldn’t you?” The thought was both terrifying and exciting at the same time.
“Mm hum,” he breathed into my hair.
His lips moved across my ear slowly. I could feel my heart beating faster and faster. I sat, nearly frozen in my chair. He had a certain power of rendering me helpless whenever he wished—a vampire thing no doubt—which Marcus used playfully to his advantage.
“Marcus,” I breathed, gripping his shoulders for support. “Aren’t you worried they’ll discover that I’m there?”
He paused momentarily. “There is no doubt in my mind they’d know you were there . . . if I let them get close enough.” I could hear the smile in his words. He kissed my neck softly.
I forced my mind to focus. “And the werewolves? Will they be close as well?”
“No.” His lips were on my ear now. “They do not trespass on my land.”
I sighed in relief.
“Do you honestly think I’m going to let any of them near you?” His eyes, a luscious shade of red, were staring into mine. “I wouldn’t put you in danger like that.”
I nodded in understanding.
He held my face in his hands now. “You see darling, there is nothing to worry about. I’ve already instructed Richard that if for some reason I do not return, he’s to bring you back to your home.” He kissed my lips briskly.
My heart stopped. “What?” I pulled back. “Where are you going?”
I could see the resolve in his eyes, and he could see the determination in mine. He began to look nervous.
“You will not put yourself in danger for me . . . never again,” he warned.
I knew his mind, instantly. “There’s going to be a battle. That’s what your note said—the one from Raymose, didn’t it?”
“There’s no need for you to concern yourself. You’ll be protected. No harm will come to you.” He rose from his seat and made his way toward the cockpit door.
“But what about you?” I called after him. “Marcus, I just got you back. I don’t want to lose you. If you’d only let me—”
“No, no, no! It’s completely unthinkable! You’re human!” he thundered.
I knew he spoke the truth, but there was something pulling me. I couldn’t let him risk his life to keep Damen from me. No. If it came to that, I’d leave. I would go to Damen myself if that meant sparing Marcus. I could live in misery, but I couldn’t live if Marcus was killed because of me. Damen knew this. He knew that I would put Marcus before myself. He was counting on it. That’s what he meant in his letter: “We’ll be together very soon”. I became aware of the hole Marcus's eyes were boring through me. I smiled meekly at him.
“NO! Whatever you’ve reasoned out in your head is out of the question!” His eyes were black as coal. He lifted me from my chair, gripping my arms tightly—there was no escape. “You will not defy me!” he hissed through his teeth. “Is this in any way unclear?”
I couldn’t look away; I was too scared. Never in my life had anyone spoken to me like this—I’d never have allowed it! But deep down I knew, Marcus had said this to frighten me into obeying him. He was trying to protect me—and I loved him for it. I would truly do what he asked, without question, as long as it didn’t mean sacrificing his life for mine. I knew that he would not let this go unless I gave him the answer he wanted . . . so I bent it just a little . . . in my favor . . . naturally.
“You are very clear Marcus, I understand.”
He released my shoulders.
I stepped back slowly to my seat, rubbing the circulation back into my arms. I took up the blanket that was waiting for me and sat down in my chair, fighting the urge to cry out in pain—my ribs were screaming!
Marcus watched me for a moment. His eyes, dark and untrusting, followed every movement I made. Without another word, he disappeared into the cockpit to relieve Richard.
Richard came out of the cockpit looking tired. He smiled warmly as he approached. “May I get you something from the kitchen, Miss?”
“No thank you, Richard, I ate a little while ago.”
I watched as he walked to the back of the plane to fix his dinner. He wasn’t gone long before my eyes closed and I drifted off to sleep.
I began dreaming of a lightly wooded countryside. The sky was dark and the air was moist. I ran as quickly as I could through the unfamiliar landscape. The moon, my only light, was peeking out from behind the clouds. A loud howling broke the silence . . .
I bounced in my seat—the plane was experiencing a little turbulence. I opened my eyes and saw Richard sleeping on a nearby chair. He opened his eyes as the plane continued to bounce around.
“I hope you don’t mind me sleeping here, Miss?” he asked when he saw me staring at him.
I blushed, having been caught watching him. “No, please, Richard go back to sleep.”
He looked at his watch and started to get up slowly.
“No. I better get back and relieve Lord Ashworth.” He covered his mouth quickly to conceal a yawn.
“But you haven’t had any sleep,” I protested.
“Oh, I’ve had a good seven hours Miss, I’ll be just fine.”
“Was I asleep that long?”
“Yes Miss,” His eyes glanced toward the cockpit. “You were . . . whimpering in your sleep.”
“Whimpering? People don’t whimper Richard, dogs do.” My mouth gaped open as I realized what I’d said. I glanced at Richard out the corner of my eye—he pretended not to notice.
“If you don’t mind me asking . . . are you alright, Miss?” I could hear the genuine concern in his voice.
“I’m fine. I’ve just had some trouble sleeping lately. I’m sorry if I disturbed you.”
“Forgive me, Miss. It was out of line to ask you such a personal question.” He rose and made his way to the cockpit. “But if you should need anything . . .” he added before he reached the door, “anything at all . . . please don’t hesitate to ask.” He bowed his head and ducked through the door.
I was trying to decode Richard’s cryptic message when Marcus came into the room.
“Richard said you were awake.” He hesitated for a moment, testing the air before he sat down beside me. He slowly reached his hand out, and began gently pushing my hair off my shoulder. “Did you sleep well?”
“I must have. I didn’t realize how long I’d slept.”
“Are you alright? Richard mentioned you had a restless sleep.”
“I’m fine. Really. You don’t need to worry.” I forced smile. “I think I’ll go fix myself up a bit.”
I got up slowly and went to an overhead compartment. I tried
to reach for the handle but stopped mid way.
“What is it?”
“Nothing,” I said in a strained voice. “I tried to reach out once again—instant pain; so much for quick healing.
“Why didn’t you just ask for my help?” Marcus reached over my head, opened the compartment, and took down my overnight bag from home.
“I could have done that myself.” I snatched the bag out of his hands.
“I’ll just leave you to it then.” He put his hands out and backed away. “There. You can pick out what you’d like—all by yourself,” he mocked.
“That’s not what I meant.”
“I know what you meant,” he chuckled. “As much as I regret it, you’re still in pain.”
I folded my arms in a pout. I was still fuming at his closed minded opinion about me helping him.
“You can be such a child at times . . . it’s really quite amusing!” he laughed heartedly.
“I’m glad I amuse you. You’ll see; I’ll be better in no time. I won’t always be so helpless,” I growled, huffing past him.
Marcus grabbed my arm, halting me in my tracks. “Just what exactly do you mean by that?” He studied my face. “What is going on in that head of yours?” his eyes were growing dark again.
“What are you talking about?” I decided to play dumb.
“You know exactly what I’m talking about. You do remember what you promised before I left you to sleep?”
“Of course I do.” I looked him right in the eyes.
He watched me carefully for a moment then released my arm.
“I’ll be back in a bit,” I said quickly as I dashed for the bathroom to wash.
It felt good to get cleaned up. Unfortunately my bandages were starting to come loose. I knew it would have to be redone, and I knew I couldn’t do it myself. “Damn. I hate being so dependent,” I grumped out loud.
I finished my hair and makeup, brushed my teeth, and put on my jeans before I took a deep breath and reluctantly opened the bathroom door.
Marcus was sitting on a chair, reading the newspaper from yesterday. He looked up to see me standing in the doorway with one hand holding a hand towel across my chest, and a roll of gauze in the other. The expression on his face caused me to instantly blush.
“I was wondering if you could help me with this?”
“You’re asking for my help, Miss Independent?” he smirked.
I stared at him, pursing my lips as I tried to think of a real zinger—I had nothing.
He got up and walked over to me. His cool fingers brushed my hand as he took the gauze. His eyes met mine. There was a look of devotion; unlike I’d ever seen reflecting back at me. As if he was saying, I didn’t even need to ask. I gave him a small smile.
“This looks better,” he said encouragingly as he tilted his head, examining my arms.
“Yes . . . sort of.”
“What’s wrong?” He looked taken aback.
“Could we just get this over with please?”
Marcus followed me over to a chair and knelt down beside me.
“Are you sure you’re comfortable doing this?” I asked, once I’d sat down.
“I helped you yesterday. Why would it bother me anymore today?” he looked confused by the question.
I took the deepest breath I could before I shifted my towel. I knew he was going to freak out. There was no way around it.
“How is this possible?” he hissed.
“Marcus, please. Don’t look at it, just wrap it!” I said through closed eyes.
My torso was covered in painful deep purple bruises. What wasn’t visible before certainly was now. There was no sign of it healing.
“If we weren’t over the ocean right now . . .”
“What, you’d jump out of the plane?”
Marcus shot me a menacing look.
“You’d jump out of the plane!” I nearly shouted in disbelief.
“Phoebe, have you looked at yourself?”
“Of course I have,” I replied sharply.
“I’ll find him.”
“Marcus please . . . just let it go . . . I’m sure Brian won’t bother me again.” I winced, as he began pulled tighter on the wrap.
“I will not let this go. Do you think I would ever let you go home, knowing that that pathetic excuse for a human is walking the streets? I won’t let him hurt you again.”
I squinted, my eyes while Marcus made his final pass across my ribs. I let out a breath of air. “Thank you. I couldn’t have done that myself,” I admitted quietly.
Marcus placed his hands on my shoulders, stealing my attention. His thumb lightly moved along the base of my throat. I could feel my heart pounding harder and harder as his eyes turned a beautiful shade of amber—a color that would have frightened anyone—but not me. They drew me in deeper.
“I will protect you,” his lips promised with a kiss.
I let my eyes fall shut. It seemed like forever since he’d kissed me like this, soft and sweet. I felt myself melting in his arms, savoring the warmth of his embrace. He held my body to his, pulling me closer with each kiss. His lips glided softly down my neck as I gasped for air. It was as if he commanded my blood to flow faster. I opened my eyes and watched the room spin around me. His lips, now moving along my shoulder, made me keenly aware that I was still nearly underdressed; and we were hardly alone. I moved to get up, the blood rushing to my head with a whoosh. I fell back to a sit.
“Are you alright?” Marcus gripped my arm, steadying me.
“I’m fine. Just a little lightheaded, that’s all.”
He grinned knowingly. “I’ll get you a shirt.” He rose to his feet then paused. “I am allowed to pick it out, aren’t I?”
I gave him an exasperated look. “Yes. Something warm though—and not the red one!” I instructed as he reached into my bag. “Oh just give me the black shirt.”
Marcus looked up, eyebrows raised. “Are you sure? I’d hate to pick the wrong one.” I could hear the sarcasm in his voice and frowned at him.
The fasten seatbelt sign came on again.
“Lord Ashworth, we’ve been cleared for landing. The car is already waiting at the gate,” Richard’s voice came over the intercom.
“My home is just outside of Durham . . . about a five hour drive,” Marcus remarked as he took his seat beside me. “The black one.” He handed me my shirt.
“Thanks,” I replied dryly.
He turned his head, allowing me privacy while I put it on; although I knew it took all his strength not to help me. If I made the slightest sound of discomfort, Marcus came unglued!
I looked out the plane window as we touched down. It was just about dusk when we came to a stop. I stared out at the unfamiliar scenery. My eyes fixed on a man leaning against a shiny black car off in the distance.
“Phoebe?”
I pressed my face up against the plane window, straining my eyes to see through the darkening sky. I jumped back, nearly toppling over the seat behind me. I cried out in pain, uttering obscenities under my breath. I’d forgotten about my wounded body.
“Phoebe!” Marcus had leapt over a seat to get to me.
I pulled him down close to me and whispered, as if the man by the car could hear. “Raymose is outside!” I breathed.
“What?”
“Raymose. He’s outside.” I pointed to the window above my head. “There, by the car!”
Marcus looked out the window for a moment and then turned back to me. He looked uneasy.
“Do you think he saw you?”
“I don’t think so.” I was still whispering.
“How did you know it was him?”
“I just . . . recognized his face.”
“Stay here.” Marcus shot me a stern look before he opened the hatch and stepped out into the night.
I stayed on the floor quietly for several minutes before I decided to sneak a peek. I couldn’t stand not knowing what was going on. I prayed he hadn’t seen me.
Raymose was talking to Marcus by the car, his back to me. Marcus must have positioned the conversation that way so there wouldn’t be a chance of Raymose seeing me if I decided to look through the window—he knew me well.
I ducked my head. Marcus had started to walk back toward the plane. It didn’t look like Raymose planned to leave anytime soon.
Marcus walked through the door just as Richard came out from the cockpit.
“Are you quite alright, Miss?” he asked as he noticed me sitting on the floor.
“Yes Richard, I’m fine. I just wanted to make sure I hadn’t dropped anything before I left.” It sounded like a good excuse to be crouched on the floor.
“Richard, I need you to drive Miss Rose directly home. It is extremely important that she doesn’t leave the plane for at least ten minutes.”
“Yes of course, Sir. I’d be happy to see Miss Rose home. I’ll just be a moment up front.”
Marcus knelt down in front of me. “Phoebe, I don’t have much time. Raymose is here to take me to Luther. The werewolves have been ravaging the countryside, killing most but turning as many as they can.”
I stared at him with wide eyes.
“Richard will take care of you—”
“But what if Damen comes?” I worried. “How can Richard take care of me?”
Marcus's brow furrowed. “Phoebe, I haven’t been completely forthcoming with you regarding Richard.” He stared me squarely in the face. “I didn’t want to frighten you, but now I find that I have no choice. Richard is a werewolf.”
“What!” I gasped. “You want me to ride for five hours in a car with a werewolf?”
“Phoebe, I trust Richard with my life . . . and with yours,” he added firmly.
“But what if there’s a full moon? What if he turns into a werewolf?” I was on my feet now heading for my bags.
“What are you doing?” He sounded tired. “Phoebe, I really must go.”
“Then go! I’m going to catch a commercial flight home.”
He grabbed my arm and spun me around, causing me to drop my bag.
“Ouch,” I winced. “Marcus . . .”
“You are not going home without me!” he warned. “It’s not safe!”
“And riding in a car with a werewolf is?” I snapped back. “I’ll take my chances with Brian, thank you.”
Marcus’s expression softened. “Phoebe, please. Trust me. I have to leave you with Richard now . . . he will take care of you. I promise. You like Richard don’t you?” He played on my good will.
“Yes . . . but now that I know he’s a werewolf . . .”
“And I am a vampire,” he interrupted. “Do you think any less of me?”
“That’s not fair, and completely not the same thing!” I protested.
“Phoebe!” he pleaded. His hands were cupping my face, his eyes demanding my full attention. I looked long into them.
“Oh, alright.” I resolved. “I’ll go with him. But if he tries anything wolfish, I’m out of that car,” I threatened. “I’ll walk back to the airport!”
“You will not travel alone. Damen is back now—you’re not safe,” he stressed, his hands gripping my face firmer now. “None of us are.” He pulled me to him. “We’ll be together soon, I promise.”
I nodded, fighting back the tears that threatened to fall. I was so afraid for him to leave.
“My home is your home,” he lifted my hands to his lips, kissing the tops of them, one at a time. “It used to be your home too, once upon a time.” He smiled warmly.
A tear fell. “Marcus, please be careful.”
His mouth crushed into mine, taking me completely by surprise. The intensity of his kiss frightened me. As if he was asking me to hold onto him and never let go.
He pulled back—as breathless as I was—and was out the door before I could whisper good-bye.