Immortal's Eden

by Lori Perry

  His grin stretched wider, also entertained with their banter.

  “If I had wanted to attack you, Lady, I would have done so and been long gone without you ever knowing what happened.” He plucked a rose from its stem and pressed the petals to his nose, breathing deeply. “Do you enjoy the hunt?” As he spun the flower between his thick fingers, he studied her.

  “I enjoy the kill.” Lifting her chin Ana wiped every thought from her mind other than plunging her weapon through his heart. “Something you took from me this night. I shall expect repayment for that.” Stop talking to the monster…start killing! She was being reckless - giving into the curiosity for what he might say. He was an abomination – yet for the first time, the beast was stirring something inside her; something other than repulsion.

  “Strong hatred for my kind I see.” Lifting the rose, he brushed the petals against her cheek trailing down to her lips. Ana jerked her head away from the touch, spitting to show disgust she didn’t truly feel – yet very much should.

  “You’re rabid animals that need to be destroyed.” Why he had not tried to kill her yet Ana didn’t know, but she needed to stop wasting time and finish returning him to the devil. Squeezing her grip on the hilt of her dagger, she envisioned blood burbling from the deep wound she would cause as it drained his life into the earth.

  “Do you not wish to know my name before you kill me?” She recognized the flirtation he held in his voice, as if he were a human trying to court her. He tilted his head and looked at the knife she held at her side. Then she watched as his gaze caressed her hips, breasts and found her body responding to the heat of his stare. Yet, when his eyes rested on her throat her body hardened to him.

  “I don’t care what your name is. Do you ask the names of your defenseless victims before you eat them?”

  “My name is Michael. You could thank me for saving you.” He said as he pulled his hair back tying it with a piece of leather. He was a fool; she was a fool for allowing him to show her this side of hell – a side that could be pleasurable. But for him to believe he’d saved her from the baby leach proved these beings were just stupid animals.

  “Saved me! You arrogant dribble! I had him right where I’d wanted him before you showed up and got in my way.”

  The vampire raised a brow and smirked in disbelief. She refused to notice that his eyes were a distinct emerald green - even in the misty moonlight – and the bridge of his nose was the perfect fit to his symmetrical face.

  “Go to hell!” With his hands behind his head Ana threw her strike, but he had anticipated her move and disappeared in front of her eyes; vanished in a swirl of mist. She had heard the older ones were able to move their bodies from one space to another; something the other hunters called tracing, but that had been just a rumor hadn’t it? No one had ever encountered one old enough to use this ability.

  She spun searching the night for him but he was gone. “I’ll find you!” she yelled. Ana gathered her pack from its hiding spot then bent to the young vampire’s body and ripped his fangs from his jaw, the proof that he was dead. With one last look around the clearing, she sashayed toward the road leading to the village. There might have been an added swing to her hips in case the vampire-that-didn’t-feel-like-a-vampire was watching. “I will find you.” She whispered.

  “I hope you do.” Michael smiled as he watched the pretty human’s swaying hips disappear into the night. “I shall be waiting.” For centuries he’d waited for her; waited to claim her body and soul and never imagined she would be so beautiful. And never imagined his mate would be a vampire slayer. A mere inconvenience for him, he could change her path easily. The way her body responded to a mere glance from him proved how easy this endeavor would be.

  Michael lounged back against the thick branch considering his next move. His sire would instruct him to claim her that night; not to waste time in changing her mind and letting her decide that he was her future – her eternal future – and slaying his kind was unnecessary - though together they could wipe out the newly created mistakes she had attempted to kill this night. Ah, but he wanted her to have the choice; to learn the facts and still choose him as her mate; a choice that was never given to him.

  From the moment he was turned and educated on the wonders his new life held for him, he longed for her; the one that would make his blood boil beneath his skin in the best way possible. A vampire’s mate would set fire to his body and only she would be able to sate his thirst or sexual hunger, so turning away from her was literally the most difficult thing he had to do. Like walking into flames by choice, knowing a cool river was right behind you.

  From the shadows he had watched her tracking the young vampire, legs encased in tight leather conforming to her every ample curve. His body responded to her movements, so fluid and sensual. Her long hair shone in the moonlight and he wished to wrap the softness in his fist as he buried himself in her from behind. Immediately he knew she was made for him; this perfect woman with a passion for life and the unfortunate career of terminating his kind. The ache for her was as intense as he had heard it would be when an immortal found their mate. But the need to pin her beneath him, to press his hips against her hot core was near uncontrollable. There would be time, he repeated as she disappeared.

  Chapter Two

  Present day

  Michael had followed Orlando’s trail over nearly every continent, with him just narrowly escaping Michaels grasp each time. He wanted answers, needed to know whatever Orlando knew and how he came upon his information. For centuries, Ana was all that occupied his thoughts; how to find her and keep her safe and now this werewolf claimed to know exactly where she was and he would kill for the knowledge. For many years he believed Ana hadn’t been reincarnated again; thought he’d lost her forever, then the wolf sent a note.

  Vampire, your beloved Ana lives.

  If this was a ploy to start a war, then Michael would be ready; however, if she truly lived and he didn’t move mountains to find her before it was too late, he would gladly walk into the sun. Orlando’s tactics of avoidance were improving, now he only went where the days were long and the sun stayed high. What Michael didn’t understand was why Orlando would send a note sharing the information about his beloved Ana, then run. His fortune, everything he had would quickly be traded for her life; surly that was widely known?

  Therefore Orlando was leading him somewhere, or stalling for a purpose. Perhaps Michael wasn’t the only vampire on his trail? Werewolves had a way of pissing of their fanged counterpart easily, making for fast enemies. He just hoped to find the bastard fuzz-ball before any others did so he could extract the information Orlando held.

  Michael had received the note two days before the last full moon. By the time he tracked down its author, Orlando had vanished. Michael had been one step behind him ever since. Orlando’s latest ploy to outrun Michael was frustrating, but not impossible to overcome. He pictured Ana, her soft curves beneath him, his shaft surrounded by her warmth; night after night for eternity he would claim her.

  The tree provided her no protection against the elements, and perhaps she had been hidden from most of his kind – but to him – she was like a torch guiding his way.

  “Wonderful evening, is it not?” He asked from a perch just out of her reach. To startle her and cause her to lose her footing would be devastating to them both.

  “You again? You must have a death wish to keep visiting me as you do…” He loved the way Ana’s words rolled from her tongue; the sensuous way her lips moved as she formed each one; he wanted to taste that tongue.

  “I have a wish, though it has nothing to do with death…well, perhaps a little to do with death.” He watched her breasts press against the material of her tunic as she shifted her arms behind her head. It pleased him that she didn’t fear his presence. Ah and how he wished to please her as well - though at this point - he knew to please her it would mean the end of him.

  “Ah, and what part of your wish involves death? The pleas
ure of me causing yours?” her lithe body rolled easily until she was lying on her stomach, facing him with her head resting on a forearm. Something flashed in her eyes as she stared up at him. “You want to be the cause of my death.”

  “In a way…” he paused, considering the best way to explain his desire. “I wish to give you pleasure; give you the gift of eternity, with me.” She laughed at his words then pushed up straddling the branch.

  “I’d rather break my neck falling from this tree than ever give you my neck, blood, or life.” With a swift motion she threw her leg over the branch and leapt from the tree; she would never survive the fall. Perhaps she knew he would save her. Before her body reached the base of the tree he was there, waiting for her with outstretched arms, then caught her easily. It had been a mistake. The instant their bodies collided, the urge overtook him. His fangs ached and grew as he held her curves against him.

  Ana had felt it too, of that he was sure. The way she pressed her breasts against him a fraction, the way her fingers splayed across his chest. She enjoyed the feel of him against her as much as he did. But his fangs longed to sink into her flesh, to make her his forever…

  “Don’t…” she whispered, breaking the spell she cast on him.

  “Until we meet again.” He said as he placed her feet on the ground then disappeared. If he had stayed, she wouldn’t have had the choice, he would have torn her decision from her as he pierced her skin, drinking the sweet nectar her body provided.

  He traced all over the world, to places that he’d gone and enjoyed – places he’d lost himself in trying to forget her. But it was no use. She was his addiction and he couldn’t deny her.

  Finding her again had been easy; the sight of her lifeless body, however, had destroyed him.

  Michael laid his head back against the pillow remembering another encounter with Ana all too well; the feel of her in his arms, the scent that lingered on his clothes from her body being pressed to his, and then the dried blood running tracks down her body as she lay dead in the ravine, finding her alive again and again only to lose her again and again. This time would be the last; if she lived – he wouldn’t give her the choice – he would save her.

  Screeching tires woke Danielle as the plane rumbled down the tarmac, waking her from another strange dream. They were coming more frequently now, but she chalked it up to her life’s turmoil lately. With back-to-back bounties and her mother’s illness, her mind had been spinning out of control. Never in her life had she had such vivid dreams and somehow she felt truly connected to them, not just her subconscious filling her head with a collage of memories from movies or what-not.

  She kept tabs on the last living member of her family through a friend from college. They had both majored in criminal psychology and as far as Jamie knew, they had both moved on to careers in private investigation. She received a quarterly report detailing the mundane and life-changing events in her mother’s world. The last had been short and to the point, just like Jamie.

  Edna Hawken has been diagnosed with terminal brain cancer; prognosis, six to eight weeks life expectancy. No other changes.

  The note had also included an unusual question that Danielle ignored.

  How are you?

  She wanted to keep Jamie at a distance. The fact that they had continued contact after college had always felt like a bad idea. He was almost a friend, and Danielle didn’t keep friends. Best to keep these exchanges completely professional, besides, most people who ask that question don’t expect the truth anyway; it was there way of being nice. Yet Jamie had known their situation; known the way she wanted to keep things very impersonal. So why did he have to go and ruin it? No matter, she ignored the question anyway.

  As the plane rolled to a stop, she gathered the folder containing her next bounty and wiped the sleep from her eyes. The flight to Vanuatu from Sydney hadn’t been unbearable and had let her catch up on paperwork until the last hour when her mind was too exhausted to stay coherent. Hopefully she’d find her mark and be headed back to the states before the night was out, not likely but being on such a tiny island it might be nice to take a breather.

  “Thank you for flying with us.” The flight attendant repeated herself to each customer crammed down the aisle, so Danielle decided to wait out the rush. With any luck, the attendant would lose her voice by the time it was Danielle’s turn to leave the plane. A private jet was added to her list of answers to the - what if a genie showed up – question.

  After the last passenger squeezed by, she stood stretching her legs and back; it did feel good to finally unfold from the tiny seats.

  “Thank you for flying with us.” The flight attendant smiled at her. Danielle cringed inwardly.

  “Thanks for having me.” Throwing her bag over her shoulder she ducked through the door and was greeted by a soft balmy breeze and warm sunshine. Out of all the locations she’d looked for scumbags, this could easily climb to number one on her favorites list. Having been around the world several times, that list was long.

  “Welcome to the happiest country on Earth!” A young boy chimed at her from the bottom of the stairs – waiting with outstretched arms – a ring of fragrant flowers draped across his wrists.

  “Thanks.” Danielle bent to receive her floral gift, slightly uncomfortable with all the friendly-friend gestures. She popped a lemon drop to help her relax, rolled her shoulders and made her way toward a waiting taxi. A nice hot bath and some fresh clothes and she’d be good to start her hunt.

  “Welcome! Where to?” Everyone seemed so happy here, very different from the states. For just a moment she pretended she was one of the happy people who belonged here; the friendly-friend people who smiled all the time and “entertained” at home. How long would it take to get used to this? She rattled off the address of the little cottage she had rented on the beach then laid her forehead against the window. Soon the rush of the hunt would be in full swing and she’d lose any kind of relaxation; it would be: find the bad guy, showers, food, and everything else would be forgotten. Whenever she went after a fugitive her entire body got into it; like this is what every cell in her body was created to do.

  Danielle rolled the lemon drop across the back of her teeth. Click, click, click, she forced her mind to go blank during the drive; there would be time to dwell on the hunt soon enough.

  The sun had just risen in his corner of the world signaling time to move on and investigate his latest lead; Orlando had been spotted on a remote island near Australia. There had to be a reason for Orlando to still be evading Michael. But he didn’t care; at this point he was ready to tear Orlando’s heart out if he blinked wrong.

  Michael traced to the cabin he had secured over the phone to sit and wait until after dark to begin his search. There was something about this place that told him this was it; the last stop on his search for her. However, Orlando had obviously chosen this place due to the long hours of sunlight, but it didn’t matter; he’d walk into the sun if it meant saving her. What were a few burns in the face of eternal love?

  Finally the sun dipped below the horizon allowing him to leave his room; and none too soon. He’d spent the last hour making tracks in the carpet in front of the window; back and forth like a caged animal waiting for the moment he could spring and tear something apart; his sights set on Orlando.

  She checked in at the main office that rented the beach cottages and let them drive her down to hers in a little golf cart. Her driver’s name was Nico, and he talked non-stop about the wonderful attractions the island held. His attitude was flirty and personal, reminding Danielle of how long it had been since she’d had any naked time with the opposite sex. She couldn’t count last October when the junkie Tarzan’ed through her bathroom window while she was showering. ‘Course at this point maybe she should. Too bad Nico was batting for his own team in the sexual department; his flirty-ness seemed to be nothing personal, just part of his charm.

  Once showered, Danielle wandered down to the beach and let her toes sin
k into the warm sand, staring at the purple sunset glistening against the ocean. The sound of children’s laughter carried up the beach. A family was playing in front of their own cottage, a mom, dad and 2.5 kids. They even had a golden retriever for crying out loud! Danielle took a quick look around for the cameras, knowing that she was basically performing for herself. Nobody else was there to share the joke of her inner monologue. An odd pain touched her heart and she rubbed it absently. The postcard family and dream beach setting were a vision of everything she would never have.

  She rolled her shoulder and reached for her lemon drops, but she’d left the bag back in her room. The sweets were her only vice, for some reason the flavor had always comforted her. Strange since she wasn’t allowed to have candy as a child. With a family full of dentists and medical professionals, a kid was sure to

  She frowned and shook out her towel, trying to get comfortable, and then opened her file.

  “Hello Mr. Danube. Tell me what makes you tick.” Every case she took had grown more dangerous than the last with the criminal’s rap sheets growing longer and more severe. The challenge had to be there, had to be somewhat difficult to accomplish or she felt cheated. Danielle had committed his image to memory the first time she browsed his file, so flipped instead to his stats. They were very impressive and unusual. 6′6″, 287 pounds, black hair, hazel eyes, muscular build. Taking down this guy would definitely be the challenge she was looking for and would earn her a pretty penny; once she’d researched this offer, she’d packed for a war and began the game.

  As the waves crashed against the beach, the breeze grew, fluttering her papers in the folder until she was forced to abandon the whole file under her towel. She paper clipped Mr. Danube’s photo to the outside. A picture was worth a thousand words and for some reason, this guy’s was rating closer to a million. There could be no mistakes when searching down one of these creeps, so the longer his image was in front of her the better.