Love Of A Lifetime

by Murphy, Riley

  “I did my job to get the story. I’m still doing my job. No harm. No foul. You’ll be able to write a nice little fluff-n-stuff article about your time with the blood sucking bastard while I’ll get to write the in-depth need-to-know Cronkite version.”

  “Fluff and whatever? I have no idea what that means and I’m not sure I want to.” When she went to move away from him, he grabbed her by the arm which effectively stopped her.

  “Oh you want to. You were as excited to get that interview invite as I was. Tell me you haven’t dreamt of landing the story? The shocker of the century? The one that would define you, your career and life as a journalist in an instant of perfect clarity?”

  Finley was trying to pull her arm free. How could she have been so foolish? “There’s no such thing as perfect. Do you know why they say perfect is perfectly imperfect? Because people like you who strive for it talk themselves into their ideal of perfection, which just so happens to be different from mine and everyone else’s. Hello? Perfectly imperfect. It’s an illusion. And let me go!”

  She yanked hard this time and her forearm almost smacked her in the face when he let go. Stumbling back, all she could do was cringe when another snow slide toppled into the gap of her sneakers. Her feet were almost numb now.

  “Really?” He closed the distance between them again, coming to shadow her. “I wouldn’t be so quick to judge. Given the chance, whether it’s one moment, a day or a lifetime, wouldn’t you kill to embrace you’re ideal of perfection? Yeah, it may not be mine, but it’s yours so why the hell would you care what anyone else thinks. Got me?”

  She had him all right. She may not agree with how he was using this to justify what he was doing in the name of landing his perfection, but his words did give her something to think about when it came to this half soul thing. Jack was her ideal of perfection and yet everything about the situation had been so imperfect it had scared her off. She’d run. She didn’t realize she was scowling until she Jesse patted her shoulder.

  “You don’t need to worry though. We’ve thrown them off. I have it all worked out. I just wish my source would get here.” He wasn’t looking at her, but over toward the right side of the clearing again.

  She was glad for his distraction. It gave her a minute to think. And when she did? Come on, a plan to thwart Jack, she didn’t think so. Jack was a very resourceful guy so her new plan was to stay here and wait for him to find her because she knew he would.

  Looking up, she spied her colleague’s gaze intensely probing the distance and she figured she better tell him about her decision to stay put until Jack found her. It was hard to explain as she understood so little of it herself. She wasn’t sure how she and Jack would deal with her most recent vision or Jesse knowing the truth about him or hell, all the other unsettling stuff going on, she just knew that there was something drawing her back to the manor that was bigger and more important than her, Jack or Jesse. Something she wanted to be a part of. Maybe it was Jack. Maybe Jesse was right that one’s perfection was a powerful draw. Who knew for sure?

  Jesse stumbled away a few steps toward the edge of the clearing and then stopped. Turning, he split his attention between her and the clearing’s edge. “You never did tell me. Why aren’t you a fucking mess right now? I’ve had over a month to come to terms with all this, but you? Less than a day.”

  And yet it seemed a lifetime.

  How could she explain it to him? About how she felt? How her life up until this morning was one big pregnant pause waiting for a break to expel itself? How she’d been waiting for something different to happen to her. Not just because of the premonitions and dreams, but something else. The force inside her that called to her even now and screamed for her to go back to Midland manor and embrace the different kind of life that waited for her there.

  Thinking about that possibility which included Jack, she brought her shoulders up. Sinking her neck and chin deeper into the collar of her ski jacket for additional warmth, she silently debated whether to press Jesse about what bothered her most. Curiosity got the best of her.

  “How did you discover that Jack was a Vampine?”

  “Where the hell is he?” Jesse craned his neck scanning the woods. Dismissing her as if she wasn’t even there. And what was with the singular?

  “He? Listen, I want to know how long have you known about Jack. Did you know before we got to Midland? Was that why you were constantly keeping tabs on me?” She recalled him making sure that she stuck with the group and the angry words he had for her that one instance this morning when Darren had showed her the wall hanging in the study. Then she recalled how Jesse was the last one to get in the van before it took off down the drive. That he seemed to be arguing with driver about having to leave. At the time she thought it was because he cared. That he was a friend—her eyes instantly widened. Was he using her now as bait to get to Jack?

  If he was, she needed to let him know whose side she was on. Crazy though it was, and despite what happened in their last lifetime together, she was on Jack’s side. At least until they dealt with what she saw in her vision. “There’s something I want you to know. About why I left the manor with you.” Jesse still didn’t turn around, he just continued examining the forest, so she went on, “I left with you because I think Jack Midland killed me in my previous life.”

  He tried to move swiftly, but on account of the snow his motions were clumsy as he worked his way around to teeter on uneven footing. “Of course he-he would have killed you. He’s a vampire.” After a beat, he said, “What do you mean by in my previous life? What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

  His sharp tone nipped on her, but she tried to remain calm, even as she wondered why she had this burning need to explain Jack’s heritage to Jesse. Like for some reason, it was monumentally important to her, and the idea that Jesse didn’t get that was making her mad. “He’s not a vampire. He’s Vampine.”

  “Vamp—what?” he sounded like he was going to laugh, and this made her madder.

  She had no idea where all this anger was coming from. Well, aside from the fact that she stood in a foot of snow, in the middle of nowhere— in the dead of night— freezing her ass off. “Vam-pine,” she pronounced succinctly. “And, as I said, I didn’t leave with you because he was one. I left because I think he killed me. Or rather, he watched someone kill me in my last lifetime.”

  “He’s a fucking blood sucker.” He came toward her with a hand extended and finger pointed in an accusatory manner. “But that’s okay with you? You are in cahoots with them.”

  What she’d thought was anger building inside her was more like tension or stress. Nerves, that’s what it was. She needed to get out of here. Now. “I have to leave.” She didn’t know which way to go so she decided to stick to the tracks and head back up the mountain using them as guide. Only when she turned a searing pain exploded in her head. It was like nothing she’d ever felt before and for a second she feared she’d been shot as the excruciating agony tore through her from temple to temple. The jolt so severe she pulled her hands out of her pocket, and grabbed the sides of her face. The pain was too much. It was killing her. “No!” She fell to her knees and rocked back and forth trying to contain the throbbing.

  “Cullen?”

  Through the blare she heard him, but couldn’t answer. She was too intent on trying not to pass out.

  “She’ll be fine in a moment,” a deep voice sounded. It cut through the pain and echoed in her mind like fingernails scratching down a blackboard.

  “Cyrus?”

  “Yes Jesse Alt.”

  “You’re late. I was worried. I ah, here. I did my part, I got the book—”

  Despite the agony she was in, she tried to tilt her head in the direction of their voices. Her skull felt as though it weighed a hundred pounds and she was having trouble focusing.

  “Give that to me,” the deep voice demanded.

  Through the haze of torment, she saw Jesse nervously pull something out of the inside of
his jacket before he wasted no time struggling through the snow. She blinked and that’s when she saw the cloaked figure. Jesse had just reached him when one of the cedars above swayed and a moonbeam flashed, highlighting the two of them in a candescent glow.

  Was she hallucinating? The stranger was tall, not as tall as Jack, but taller than Jesse and as she stared, his dark coat seemed to shift over him like it was a living thing. She must have gasped, because his gaze shot to her and when it did, her heart thundered in her chest. He had black eyes that glinted like polished granite in the pale moonlight.

  “Okay, you have the book and I got Cullen out of there, just like you wanted. Can I have the rest of the story now?”

  Finley held the stranger’s stare. Once again, she didn’t know why this was important to her, but it was. It was as if there was an unspoken challenge between them. The idea was ludicrous because she’d never seen him before in her life. Ignoring the pain in her mind that intensified to an almost excruciating level, she held her ground. She wasn’t going to look away or move until he did and when that moment finally came, she collapsed in an exhausted heap on the ground. The frigid snow against her cheek was a welcomed relief from the heat of those burning soulless eyes.

  “You did well, Jesse Alt, don’t spoil your moderate success by making demands. There are still things that need to be done before the world learns about the Midland’s.”

  “What? But, I thought…” Jesse’s words fell away and Finley guessed the reason. From her prone vantage point she knew why the cloaked man appeared to growing in size, but Jesse was too close to see that—what the hell was it? A monster? It wasn’t a man—its feet had left the ground as it floated. Every bit of common sense within her screamed for to get up and run. This was impossible, wasn’t it?

  Jack was impossible and yet he’s now more real to you than anything else.

  “Fine. Cullen and I will head out of here and—”

  “No.” The monster’s voice boomed like a thunderclap. The sharp reproach made her jerk as her cheek skidded over the crusty top layer of icy snow. Through pain bleary eyes, she watched and listened. “You may go. She stays with me.”

  When he turned and came toward her she thought her heart would beat right out of her chest. This wasn’t happening. He couldn’t be gliding above the snow, but he was. There were no crunching sounds and no footprints left in his wake. What was he? She tried to concentrate. To breathe through the searing pain that increased the closer he came.

  With monumental effort, she used her naked hands and pushed them into the snow until the top half of her was in an upright position. Swallowing her mounting fear, she ignored the continuous roar in her ears that sounded like a train speeding through a tunnel, and waited for him to reach her.

  “Wait,” Jesse hastily called. He took two steps forward and everything changed. The stranger no longer floated. His feet sank into the snow and his coat stiffened. Jesse obviously didn’t notice these subtle changes because he unwisely took another step closer.

  The stranger’s words barely a whisper when he spoke, “You dare much.” He stood very still and then straightened his shoulders as he looked over and down at her with a terrible smile that broke the severe lines of his hawk-like features. He blinked in a lazy fashion, once, twice, and then spun around so quickly, Finley got dizzy. He brought one leg up and swung his foot out until it connected with Jesse’s solar plexus. Then everything went into slow motion and all she could do was watch in morbid fascination.

  Jesse lifted off the ground and his arms and legs nearly met in mid-air as his body formed the shape of a C. She heard a heavy whoosh as if all the air had been forced out of his lungs just before he flew away. There was no other way to describe the sight. One moment, he was hanging in the air with his face contorted in pain. The next, he was traveling backwards with such speed and force that his face registered nothing but shock. Before she could cry or move he disappeared over the edge of the mountain.

  This didn’t just happen. She stared at the empty space where he had previously been standing until she heard the cracks of the branches he hit on his way down. The final and telling thud that reverberated around them when he hit some form of a bottom a second or two later caused her to whimper.

  “Such a shame he didn’t know his place.” The deep resonance of the maniac’s voice was frightening. Chilling, but when he came nearer, she was determined that he wouldn’t see her fear.

  “Who are you?” she demanded. Her voice was hoarse and weak as she still battled the pain and fought the urge to cry.

  “I’m more interested in who you are. Tell me.”

  He was within a foot of her and she had trouble angling a look at him. After a valiant attempt, she gave up and eyed his boots instead. They were a reddish brown color, and strangely, they were primitively sewn. Like an old time Prairie doll, the sole of the boot was connected to the calf sleeve with thick threads stitched in well-placed, but large, Xs. “My name is Finley. Finley Cullen.”

  He laughed and the sound reverberated right through her, like when she sat on the washing machine during the spin cycle at the laundry mat. She could feel its affect run through her until her organs quivered. “Please,” she groaned. She wasn’t sure she’d be able to breathe right. Her heart fluttered and the rest of her insides shook.

  He reached down with both hands and took hold of her collar. Slowly pulling her up until she was on her knees again. At this point, she wasn’t going to fight him. She needed a strategy. After what she’d seen him do to Jesse, she wasn’t going to best him physically.

  “Look at me,” he commanded. Her head lulled back of its own accord and her glazed eyes met the polished blackness of his. “What is so special about you,” he paused, as though he had to recall her name, “Finley Cullen?”

  His hands slipped into her jacket to grasp her throat, and when he started to squeeze, the only thought that popped into her head was, illogically, that his hands were silky soft. Like velvet. She didn’t even try to defend herself. She should be kicking and screaming, clawing and pushing and yet all she did was glare at him. Going so far as to dare him to continue of which he did.

  You have a death wish, Fin. You aren’t going to bluff your way out of this one.

  An odd thing to think when that’s not what she was doing. Truthfully she had no idea what she was trying to accomplish, she was going on instinct. An instinct that could get her killed, now that there was no air left in her lungs. Maybe this is how things were supposed to go. Her dying like this. Maybe this was the different she’d been waiting for. No. Jack was her different, she was sure of it.

  Mia shandor lei.

  The warmth that came with that whisper wrapped around her bringing with it air. Warm air that rode over tongue with fragrant cinnamon before it swept inside her, spreading through her lungs so swiftly, she gasped.

  The monster stiffened and then his eyes widened as he searched her face. “Biate” he spat. Abruptly letting her go before he stumbled back. “It’s you. All this time she’s been deceiving me. I never would have known.”

  Finley sank back but remained on her knees. She coughed and sputtered, pulling on her collar to gain some room. When cold air filled her lungs this time she tried to move, but her legs were numb and stiff with cold. She was stuck. Unable to do much else, she kept her eyes on him while she maintained her focus. Waiting.

  His movements were quick and jerky. Unnatural somehow. He looked like a demon possessed as he threw his head back and laughed. The terrible sound rumbled and bounced off the snow and tree trunks until it hit her with a rush of pulsating decibels that seeped into her bones, chilling her core to ice. Squeezing her heart so hard she thought it would burst.

  “You’re killing me,” she cried. Her hands clutched at her chest, sure that she was going die.

  “Tue seong dia mesta,” he said, and she understood the words. This was no language she’d ever heard before. What was happening to her? Tue seong dia mesta— your life is p
rotected?

  Suddenly, it came to her who he was, but before she managed to get over that shock another one hit her. In the form of images flashing in her mind. She slammed her eyes closed and worked to measure her breathing even though her heart felt as if it was going to explode with each breath she took. She gasped as images appeared behind her closed lids. The still-frame pictures pulled her backwards through time and various locations. Places where she and Jack had obviously been together. She saw them dancing in a jazz club, dining by candlelight on an old fashioned cruise ship. The images moved so fast that she barely had time to see them all. Some were just a blur as they shot through her brain. Then one appeared very clearly. A picture of she and Jack walking on boardwalk in a Midwestern town as horses and cattle— now it changed and they were in a ballroom where the women wore lavish gowns and the men and then that too was gone, replaced by a picture of filthy streets cluttered with hustlers that Jack deftly fought off.

  Jack.

  The moment her mind focused on him, the scene abruptly changed again. The landscape was desolate, like a desert filled with dark red sand. But they didn’t seem to care as they ran hand in hand into a glass-covered dwelling. She was laughing as he teased her and once inside he laid her down on a white fur bed and leaned over her. She saw his eyes soften, but remain intent, as he caressed her cheek. He wasn’t teasing her now and she wasn’t laughing. The atmosphere had become charged as they continued to stare at one another. Finally, he brushed his lips across her temple and whispered against the side of her hair, “Mia shandor lei.” The overwhelming sense of love and deep longing that flowed through her with those words instantly gave her renewed strength.

  “Et beture coem qi,” the monster she now knew as their enemy spoke. It should have been me. Her eyes snapped open as the truth settled deep in her heart. In another life—a different world—Jack had chosen her and she had chosen him. She was his mate. Nothing could change that certainty. Oh, she still may not know all the details of what had happened in her previous lifetime with Ceil, but she knew her mate would never have hurt her and when that came to her so did another image. One that carried with it a sense of belonging so profound she held her breath. There in the mist was her different. Her—she remained unafraid as a golden paw stretched out of the shadows toward—