Immortal Wounds: Book #1 in the Immortal Wounds Vampire Series-Paranormal Romance/Vampire Romance/Romantic Fantasy

by Grane, Nicole

  I watched as the muscles in his back tensed with each tongue-lashing I gave—I wasn’t finished. “Just save yourself the trouble of pretending to care and keep walking. Let him kill me. Or better yet, why don’t you just do it yourself! Since I’m part werewolf anyway, you have an excuse!”

  Marcus stopped at my bedroom door.

  I put my hand over my mouth. I’d crossed the line, and I knew it. I had been so angry I didn’t think how cutting my words might be. I hadn’t cared. I was mad that he was lying to me. And I was terrified that he might actually walk out of my life—I’d surely driven him away now.

  I could feel his tension. One hand was on the doorknob—squeezing it so tight I thought it would break off. The other was balled in a fist at his side. I could see his whole body seething with rage.

  I moved away from him in case he turned around. I decided I didn’t want to be that close to him after all.

  Marcus turned to face me, his eyes filled with anger. His lips were pressed together in a hard line. He was terrifying, more than my nightmare had been.

  “Well, you get my point,” I stuttered nervously. “I’ll just see you later . . . maybe?” I held my hands out at arm’s length, motioning him to stay where he was and retreated backward slowly toward the bathroom.

  “You think I left you to DIE?” Marcus thundered.

  I jumped, dropping my pajamas from my hands.

  The gap between us was getting smaller. He was closing in on me slowly. I had backed myself against a wall—there was nowhere to go. He was extremely close now, holding my arms firmly again; it didn’t hurt, but I wasn’t going anywhere.

  “You don’t know how many of those beasts I had to fight through, only to find your dead body. All because you wouldn’t stay where you were told! You can’t imagine what that did to me!” His face was full of pain.

  I couldn’t speak. I was frozen with fear and a newfound guilt. Was that Phoebe somehow responsible for her own death?

  “Maybe I loved you? You don’t think I love you now? I’ve never loved anyone but you!” His words were harsh as he spit them at me. Yet they were also full of a sadness I could never fathom.

  “I’m leaving because I . . . love . . . you! Because I can’t bear the thought of hurting you! I could never live with myself if I . . .” He shook his head back and forth, as if trying to shake away the thought. “You have no idea how badly I want you. How long I’ve waited to hold you again. And here you are . . . so close . . . so willing to love me back, and I can’t give you that. It takes all my strength to fight my instincts.” He looked longingly at me. “Your heart beating next to me . . . your pulse racing when I touch you . . . you think I can’t feel that?” he growled in frustration. “I’m denying my very existence by turning away from you now.” He was nowhere near finished yelling at me. And I deserved it. To a point.

  “Your control seems just fine.” The words didn’t come out as strong as I’d intended. I lifted my chin slightly. “You seem to have no problem kissing me, then pushing me away.” My voice came back as I removed his hands from me. “I shouldn’t have been so open. I shouldn’t have trusted you with my heart like that. I can’t imagine what I was thinking?”

  Marcus’s eyes flashed blacker as a low growl came from his throat. He was truly frightening. I tried to step away from him, but he grabbed my waist and lifted me so fast my back slammed into the wall behind me. “You think I don’t want you?” His body pushed up against mine, pinning me. He had one hand on my waist and the other on my thigh, his fingers gripping me tightly.

  I trembled against him. My heart pounded faster as his cool breath licked at my neck. “I can taste your skin without even touching you,” he said breathlessly. His face moved along my throat, his nose, inhaling deeply. “I can smell your fear even now.” he pressed his lips against my skin.

  I gasped at the abruptness of it.

  “I can feel your heart beating from across the room.” His voice was strained. His eyes were fierce, animal like. I felt as if I could be eaten alive at any moment. I tried to look away, but his amber eyes drew me in deeper, the anger in them being replaced by desire.

  “Do you honestly think I don’t want to kiss your lips?” His mouth took mine forcefully, the very taste of it, intoxicating. I couldn’t resist kissing him back. I didn’t want to. “I can feel your blood moving through your veins,” he whispered into my ear causing me to shiver once again. “It calls to me . . .” His eyes, still smoldering, watched my shaken reaction. “I’ve never loved anyone but you . . .” His voice cracked. His tone had changed. It was softer now, like swirling honey. I closed my eyes and let myself drown in it.

  “I told you I’d never hurt you . . . that doesn’t mean I couldn’t.” he said with frustration. “If I lost control with you, I could easily kill you. I don’t know if I’m strong enough . . . if I have it in me to not . . . I’d never had to worry about your humanity before. You and I were the same.”

  I stared at him open mouthed. Bits and pieces of my dream were fitting together before my eyes. No. I wouldn’t let them. I pushed the thoughts away. He was Marcus I kept telling myself. Just Marcus!

  “Being with you . . . close like this . . . makes me lose all sense of myself.” His mouth glided across my neck again.

  I swallowed loudly. I could feel the walls closing in around me, suffocating me. “I trust you.” My words came out shaky. I didn’t believe them myself.

  “You’re not, understanding me.”

  My heart pounded with a need I’d never felt before. He loved me—that’s all I needed to hear. Marcus opened his mouth to speak, and that’s when I kissed him, hard and heady.

  He pulled his face back abruptly, his mouth, nearly gasping for air. “Phoebe, if I bite you you’ll die!”

  The harshness of his words cut deep. I took in so much air that I started to hyperventilate. My eyes were large with panic. “I . . . can’t . . .” my words broke off. Hearing Marcus say it out loud sent me over the edge.

  He released me instantly and sat me on the floor. His amber eyes were turning brown as he watched me anxiously. He pushed my head between my legs. “Breathe.”

  It wasn’t working. I was having a full-blown panic attack. I knew what he was telling me. I’d known it. But I didn’t want to believe it. He couldn’t be. This wasn’t happening! I was shaking my hands in front of me, trying to distract myself. “I . . . was . . . right?” I said each word between gasps of air.

  “You’ve got to calm down Phoebe, breathe!” He urged again.

  “You’re . . . a vampire?” I gasped again, struggling for each breath.

  This was absurd: werewolves outside, vampires inside. Is Frankenstein going to knock on my door next? No, no, no! He didn’t say that, I misunderstood. He’d said we were the same once?

  Marcus was furious with himself. “Phoebe, can you ever forgive me? I didn’t mean to scare you like that. You got me so frustrated.” He was gritting his teeth a little. “I wanted you to understand. It’s not your fault. I shouldn’t punish you because you can’t remember.” There was anguish in his words. “I’ll never hurt you like that again,” he said as he put his hands around my face, trying to hold me still.

  I grasped his wrists with my hands and looked at him with pleading eyes. Praying that he would tell me this was all a bad dream. But deep down I knew he couldn’t. “You’re . . . a vampire?” I asked again. The word came out a little clearer this time.

  “Yes,” he said flatly. His eyes stared squarely into mine.

  “I was a . . .” I couldn’t say it. “NO! You . . . can’t be . . .” I shook my head.

  “Phoebe, you need to calm down. You’re not in any danger, I swear, I won’t hurt you.”

  I trusted him. I couldn’t explain why, but I trusted him without question. I just couldn’t catch my breath. This was all too much to take in. “It’s . . . okay . . . I’m fine . . . Really.”

  “You are not fine. Now quit trying to talk and breathe slowly,” he
scolded. His eyes were a lighter shade of brown now. All signs of anger were gone.

  I sat there on the floor with my head between my knees for some time before I felt like I could speak without passing out.

  When I looked up, I found Marcus watching me anxiously. All signs of aggression—gone.

  “How are you feeling?” he asked. His voice was calmer now, yet still guarded.

  “Fine.”

  He studied me for a few moments longer. “Phoebe, I’m so sorry I scared you.” He reached out to take my hand. I flinched, drawing it close to me.

  Marcus paused and nodded his head in understanding. A look of sadness hung in his eyes.

  I couldn’t bear that. He had terrified me, but I couldn’t stand the tortured look he now wore. I forced a smile. “I guess I should take that shower now.” I moved to my feet. A sudden wave of dizziness hit me. I held my head in my hands. Marcus caught me as I fell back.

  “You’re in shock.” He looked really worried now.

  “Shock?” I half laughed. “Why would I be in shock?”

  “I think that shower should wait,” he suggested firmly.

  “I’m fine, I just felt dizzy. I must have gotten up too quickly, that’s all.” I stood up, slower this time, holding my head until I felt oriented. “See? I’m perfectly fine.” I smiled at him as I wobbled into the bathroom and shut the door. He hadn’t looked convinced.

  “Phoebe, would you like me to leave?” he called through the door, his voice sounding tired now.

  “Leave? Why would I want you to leave? I’ll just be a few minutes. There’s food in the fridge if you’re hungry!” I shouted out as I turned on the shower water and got in.

  The hot water eventually dulled my senses. The sharp sting that had hit my wounds had all but vanished. I let the water run down my face and body . . . I was beyond tired.

  “Shock?” I mumbled to myself. Why would he think I’m in shock? That’s ridiculous!

  My thoughts drifted deeper and deeper as my eyes fell shut. It felt good to close them. I was so exhausted; I just wanted to sleep. I leaned my head on the side of the shower wall, letting the hot water sooth me as I drifted off . . .

  Chapter 7: Sweet Dreams

  I could feel the warm sunlight on my face. My eyes protested. They weren’t ready to open yet. The blankets felt unusually soft around my body. I snuggled into their warmth. I was still so very tired.

  I’d been dreaming all night, and my mind was having a hard time trying to decipher between dream and reality. All the visions from my sleep came rushing at me in an instant.

  It was more like a slide show than a solid dream. Marcus had been there. I saw the two of us in a beautifully lit room filled with flowers, red roses to be exact. He was holding me—the way I wanted him to. He was kissing me passionately, our bodies together, like we were made for one another.

  Then chaos: people in dark clothing rushing around, some wearing armor and carrying swords. I was looking out a window watching Marcus mount a horse. He was dressed all in black with a gleaming sword hanging from his side. Our eyes met as he gave me one last fleeting look before he rode off . . .

  I saw myself running down a dark road. The moon overhead was my only light. I caught my reflection in a puddle as I ran past. My clothing resembled Marcus's. I was dressed like a warrior, with a sword in my hand.

  I could see the shapes of bodies all around me in the darkness. Some were people I knew, friends I think. The rest were the mongrels that had invaded our land, the traitors that betrayed us. I could hear the snarls and screams from the battle up ahead. I ran as fast as I could through the bodies toward the fight. I needed to help Marcus. By the bodies on the ground, I knew that our numbers were dropping. I could hear myself clearly this time. I was screaming out his name, looking for him, hoping I wouldn’t find him in the carnage.

  The sound of paws coming along behind me was getting closer and closer. I’d killed so many already . . . I had to find Marcus. I had to tell him before it was too late.

  I picked up my pace, running faster toward the meadow. I could see Marcus fighting not far from me. I moved toward him when I heard a deep growl from behind me. I spun around, drawing my sword . . .

  I recognized him immediately. Damen! His teeth in the light resembled a sinister smile. He wasn’t looking for me this time—he was looking for Marcus.

  “You won’t touch him,” I hissed as I asserted myself between them.

  He growled, warning me to step aside. I held my stomach for a moment. I knew I was saying goodbye. Damen’s eyes narrowed. He watched as I raised my sword up into the moonlight. A loud growl greeted me as I ran toward him, taking on my final fight.

  Startled, I sat straight up, gripping my stomach as I had in my dream. I looked around the room frantically.

  Marcus was in a chair beside the bed and was instantly at my side.

  “Where is he?” I yelled out, still not focusing on any one thing in the room.

  “Who?”

  “Damen!” I shouted. “He was just here!”

  Marcus leaned slowly back from me, his eyes wide. “Who?” I could hear the uneasiness in his voice.

  I was trying to see out my bedroom window from the bed—I didn’t see anything but the tree outside. I frowned.

  I looked at Marcus and saw his shaken expression. “How do you know that name?” he hissed.

  “He’s the one that killed me!” I said excitedly, as if I’d just cracked the biggest mystery ever.

  “How did you know that?” he spat.

  “You did?”

  “Of course. He was seen fleeing after he . . . but you couldn’t have known that.”

  “I just dreamed it,” I said pausing thoughtfully, a blush coating my cheeks. I drew my legs up and wrapped my arms around them. “I saw so many things . . . you and I in this beautiful room filled with flowers.” I snuck a glance his way.

  Marcus’s mouth opened to speak, then closed. He looked . . . awestruck.

  “I saw you leading troops to battle the werewolves, and me rushing to help, hoping to find you so I could tell you I was . . .” I stopped suddenly. I debated quickly and decided to skip this memory for now. I bit my lip nervously. “I even saw my fight with Damen.” I reached out to touch Marcus's stunned face, noticing my bare arm for the first time. I followed it back to my body, looking down—I was completely naked beneath the covers. “MARCUS!”

  He immediately knew what I was thinking. His expression went from one of disbelief to shockingly-embarrassed in a fraction of a second. “You fell in the shower and hit your head!” he said defensively. “I didn’t look, honestly. I wrapped you in your towel and put you right into bed. I’ve been sitting right over there ever since, watching you, making sure you were alright.” He pointed to the chair in the corner.

  I looked down and lifted the covers back. I was indeed wrapped in my bath towel. I reached behind my head, rubbing the small knot that was throbbing as we spoke.

  “I told you that you were in shock,” he scolded, trying to divert the attention off him. “You could have drowned!”

  I smiled at him through flushed cheeks. “It appears you have me at a disadvantage Mr. Ashworth.”

  His face looked puzzled.

  My eyes dropped as I smoothed the covers over me. “It would seem that there is nothing left for the imagination where I’m concerned,” I teased.

  Marcus blushed in his own way. But I could see there was something else weighing on his mind. He sat on the edge of the bed; his eyes reluctantly meeting mine.

  “Marcus?” I was starting to feel uneasy.

  “Phoebe, I have to ask. Do you really believe that I let you die? That I didn’t . . . love you enough?” His voice cracked as he spoke.

  I hung my head in shame. “No, I don’t believe that. I think you loved me more than I can imagine. I don’t know why I said those things to you last night.” I buried my face in my hands.

  Marcus scooted over, pulling me against him. I rested
my head on his chest and breathed in deeply. It seemed like forever ago that I took in his sweet scent. “I was afraid for you to leave me,” I admitted. “Marcus. I don’t want to die.”

  “You won’t!” he said with a hint of finality in his voice. “As for Damen . . .” His tone had turned venomous.

  I shook my head. “I don’t want to talk about Damen.” “Why bring up things that will only hurt you?”

  “Hurt me?” he asked curiously pulling back to see my face. “What do you know that would hurt me?”

  My face gave me away.

  “Phoebe,” he warned.

  I shook my head. “It was just a dream,” I insisted trying to convince myself. “By some miracle, I was able to see bits and pieces from our past. Some good. Some bad. And some I don’t understand yet . . .” I puzzled momentarily. “Besides, it doesn’t matter anyway,” I added cheerfully. “He’s dead; and good riddance!”

  I secured the towel around my body and went to my dresser for some clothes.

  Marcus caught my hand just as I reached for the handle. “What makes you think Damen is dead?” he asked.

  “Uhh, he would have to be, that dream I had would have been . . .” I paused to consider the era. “ . . . at least five-hundred years ago. We’ve all been long since dead.” I looked at him like I’d just stated the obvious.

  He leaned in close to me. “Not all of us!” he whispered with a crooked smile.

  My mind wrapped around that thought for a half a second. My eyes popped open as I realized what Marcus was saying.

  “He’s still alive!” I gasped. “But how could that be? And how would you know that unless you’re . . .? ”

  “Still living too,” he finished my thought.

  Every bit of last night came crashing down on me. Werewolves, rejection, panic attacks, vampires—Marcus was a vampire, a real vampire! I looked at him out the corner of my eye. I smiled nervously, still not trusting that any of this was real. “How old are you?” I asked.