Reborn (Princess of the Blood Book 1)

by Jane Ederlyn

  She placed her fingertips on his lips. “Don’t speak, just kiss me.”

  Chapter XV

  Melancholy overwhelmed Marie. As she watched John and Abby together, her past with Mathieu floated around her like puffs of breeze. He had been a gentleman, kind and attentive to his family. Most of all, he had loved her. She wanted for Abby what fate had cruelly taken from her—love, marriage, children, happiness.

  She knew she was being selfish keeping her so closely at her side for companionship. She could protect Abby and her future babies from afar without keeping her from a normal life. She had done it before, could do it again if necessary, but if she were honest with herself, she didn’t know if she could do that with her. Abby was special. Marie had raised her practically from infancy and she was as much her child as Marcel. She couldn’t let her go any more than she could stop craving blood.

  Odin approached, coming up behind her and putting an arm around her waist. “I’m not sure what’s thicker. Their desire or your loneliness.”

  She didn’t move.

  “You didn’t come by tonight,” he said.

  “I was busy,” she said.

  “You followed them again? He’s a good guy, Marie. You can let go.” He nuzzled her hair and breathed in her scent. “I’m a good guy.”

  She stepped forward, out of his grasp, her body rigid. “She is all I have left.” Her voice cracked with emotion. “Please leave.”

  “It doesn’t have to be this way.”

  “What way?”

  “Look at me.”

  She turned and cocked her head. “Satisfied?”

  “No, I’m not satisfied. I can share this with you. I’m immortal, too. You don’t have to be alone in this.”

  “I am not alone.”

  His hands fisted. “That’s how you want to play this.” After a long, deep stare that searched her very soul, he backtracked and disappeared into the trees, leaving unsaid words in her mouth.

  She bit back her regret and returned her attention to the couple. Sensing the energy she now associated with werewolves again, she smiled, grateful that Odin never listened to her. She turned to greet him, but the wolf running toward her on all fours didn’t have Odin’s beautiful silver coat. It was solid brown, from muzzle to tail. She hissed at it as it reared to a halt and shifted into a human.

  “You were expecting Odin?” he asked.

  “I told him to leave and that applies to you as well. Get off my land.”

  “Our Alpha wants to speak to you.”

  “Odin’s father?”

  “Yes, Stormda. Come tomorrow. Only you.”

  “Now why would I want to do that?”

  “He wants no trouble.”

  “Trouble? Why would there be trouble? Explain yourself.”

  The stranger snarled, baring his human teeth, and glanced toward the house. “They are handsome together. The two little humans.”

  In two steps she was in his face. “Do not look at them. Do not think of them. They are not your concern. They are not your kind’s concern.”

  “Of course not, Stormda merely seeks peace for all.” With that he turned and shifted in midair into his animal form.

  She waited until he had disappeared from all of her senses before returning to the house. She would not leave Abby and John alone outside lest the werewolf returned, but she could stay in the shadows, unobtrusive.

  Her heart gave a jump when she saw Odin.

  “Hello, beautiful,” he said.

  “I thought I told you to leave.”

  “I did. I was halfway home when it occurred to me that when it comes to moi, what you say is not necessarily what you mean. I know you think you’re doing the right thing, but I’m the right thing for you.”

  She looked into the night, feeling as if two centuries had rushed past in a blink. She considered whether to tell him about the visit from his packmate but decided against it. If he didn’t already know, she didn’t want to tell him and risk him overreacting. She was sure it was nothing, probably Stormda wanting to flex his muscles and meet the new vampire in town. Maybe he wanted to apologize for the rogues? Or had he found out she was sleeping with his son?

  “We could be here today and gone tomorrow. We don’t know what the fates have in store for us any more than humans do. Stop second-guessing yourself and live your life to the fullest,” he said.

  She shook her head. Wasn’t that what she told Abby?

  He took her by the shoulders and forced her to look at him. “I don’t need to wait around for a couple of human years to conclude how I feel. I know.”

  She looked into his eyes. “Will you stay tonight?”

  “Yes.”

  She dropped her face into his chest and closed her eyes. He felt so warm and inviting. “Yes,” she murmured into his body.

  After John left, Abby retired to her bedroom and they went upstairs. Dawn loomed and Marie was heavy with sleep. Odin watched her, as she activated the shutters and crawled into bed. “Are you afraid of the dark?” she asked.

  He crawled in after her. “No.”

  She looked at him meaningfully. “I need to sleep now.”

  “You trust me,” he said. To a vampire, trust was paramount to love and he wanted her to know that he understood. When he turned toward her, she lay on her back, hands on her chest, and eerily still.

  “Are you all right?”

  “Yes,” she whispered. Her eyes fluttered but didn’t open. As if a moon existed inside of her lighting her from the inside, her skin glowed. A swath of cool mist floated above her, thicker and thicker with every tick of the clock, as her body shut down.

  He touched her. “Marie?” She was as peaceful as a corpse. “My Countess of Creepy.” He stretched until he was comfortable. He reached for her cold hand, kissed it, and brought it onto his chest.

  A smile tipped the edges of her mouth, then she yielded to the coming morning.

  Chapter XVI

  An annoying sound penetrated John’s dreams. He hit the snooze button and turned onto his stomach, burying his face deep into his pillow in an effort to return to a dream of Abby. The noise persisted and something tickled at his consciousness. He lifted his head. Not the alarm. It was Sunday. He glanced at the clock. 6:30 in the morning!

  The doorbell rang again, followed by pounding. What the hell? He slid out of bed and made it to the door on a long yawn. He bent to look at the peephole and threw the door open just as Abby was getting ready to knock again.

  “What are you doing here? Is everything all right?”

  She smiled shyly. “Kiss me.”

  It took a moment to process her words. Then he pulled her into his arms and found her lips. This wasn’t a dream. This was real, he thought as his mouth devoured hers. Distantly, he heard an elevator chime and reined himself in enough to pull her fully into the apartment. He closed the door and pushed her against it, flattening his body over hers.

  Her hands fumbled with her purse but finally dropped it and reached for his boxers. They came down with a single, fraught yank. He blew out a breath as her hand closed over his penis and slid up and down his shaft.

  “Abby,” he moaned, his face in her hair.

  “I don’t want foreplay. I just want you inside me.” She pulled on his hair. “Now, John.”

  He moaned again, his body rigid with tension as their bodies sparked. His hands lifted her skirt and clasped her bottom. It was bare, and he gave an inarticulate grunt of disbelief before lifting her off her feet. Her arms came around his neck and her legs around his waist. He thrust into her, missing his mark. She gasped with pleasure as the length of him moved against her taut abdomen.

  “Hold on,” he managed.

  She nodded between ragged breaths. His hand went down to g
uide himself in. She cried out with pleasure when he entered her and with every penetrating plunge, she moaned. His thighs trembled as he bore her weight and the force of his thrusting. Their sweat-beaded bodies lost friction and she started slipping. With the power of his lower body, he bounced her up, but she started falling again. He let go and they both fell to the floor in a heap of limbs. He spread her legs, climbed on top of her, and continued thrusting.

  Their moans and juices mingled. He opened his mouth, sucking her tongue in the same rhythm of his penis, and swallowed her moan when she tensed beneath him.

  “Come on, baby,” he encouraged.

  She arched, opening her body and throwing her head back as she spasmed. His speed quickened and his orgasm quickly followed.

  He kissed her eyelids as they lay there in the aftermath. “What are you thinking about?”

  “Nothing. Everything.”

  “I’m glad you came.”

  “Me, too.”

  They sat up simultaneously and knocked their heads together.

  “All I need is to give you a concussion,” he said.

  “Right!?!”

  “Can I touch you?”

  She cocked her head at him. “It’s a little late for that, don’t you think?”

  “In that case . . .” He reached out and squeezed her breasts.

  “John.”

  “What?” he asked, distracted.

  She looked around the apartment. “You have floor-length windows.”

  “Yeah, I know.”

  “You’re going to need shades.”

  Laughing, he stood, reached for her hand, and guided her toward the windows.

  “You see, all water. Unless there’s a psycho out there on a boat with binoculars, I think we’re okay. In fact . . .” He put his arms around her waist and his chin dropped onto her shoulder. “If he is out there, then he deserves to watch.”

  She laughed.

  He pulled her shirt off the rest of the way and helped her step out of her skirt. The sun danced on her pale skin and her hair looked blonder in the harsh morning heat. Real Abby was more beautiful than he’d expected, more beautiful even than the dream version.

  Abby arrived home as the housekeeper was leaving.

  “Good afternoon, Carmen.”

  “Ms. Abby, he is very nice.”

  Abby halted mid-step. “Who?”

  “The gentleman. He is very nice and very good looking.” There was a devilish gleam in the other woman’s eyes.

  “Thanks, I think.” She had a bad feeling about this. She waved goodbye and turned toward the house.

  The kitchen blinds blacked out the sun and offered no hint as to what awaited her. She inched the door open and was met with a huge jean-clad butt sticking out of her stainless steel refrigerator. She slammed the door behind her.

  Odin snapped up. “Whoa, you startled me. You could’ve given me one of those heart things.” He touched his chest.

  “I thought werewolves were immortal.”

  “Oh yeah.” He grinned. “Hey, why are you sneaking up on me?”

  “I’m not.”

  “Yes, you are.”

  She gave him a scathing look, which she hoped would send him packing, but he swatted it away like a pesky fly. “I’m not sneaking up on you. You’re in my house.”

  His grin widened. “Yes, you—”

  She held up a hand, interrupting him. He acted like he was five instead of a thousand or however many years old he was. “I don’t have time for this. What are you doing here?”

  “Isn’t it obvious?” He looked down at his watch. “Wait a minute. Where have you been, little girl? Are you just getting home now?”

  “What’s it to you?”

  “Tsk. Tsk. When did you sneak out? Have you’ve been out all night?”

  He raised a questioning brow that made her squirm despite herself.

  “None of your business.”

  He sniffed the air and sighed. “I hope you used protection?”

  “What? How did you know?”

  “I’m a wolf, remember.”

  “Stay out of my business.”

  “Don’t worry. I won’t tell.”

  She stormed past him.

  “Wait.” He caught her arm before she cleared the doorway.

  The urgency in his voice stilled her.

  “What?”

  “Have you had lunch?”

  “No,” she said, her brows creased as she waited for him to get to the point.

  “As long as you’re here, can you make us lunch?”

  “Are you serious?”

  “Let me know when it’s done.” He dropped her arm.

  If she could have reached his throat, she’d strangle him. She looked around for something to throw, found the paper towel dispenser, and aimed for his head.

  He ducked and it crashed against the cabinet behind him. “Hey.”

  “You’re lucky it wasn’t a knife.”

  “Did you already forget I’m immortal?”

  She stomped her foot. “Did you stay here last night?”

  “Yes.”

  “She let you stay?” There was that grin again, toothy, wide, and oblivious. “And you left, compromising the darkness of the room?”

  “The curtains were closed, the shutters were down, and the anteroom sealed. I was careful. I can tell you’re related. Paranoia runs in your blood.”

  “Do you ever stop to think about anybody but yourself?”

  “Do you?” he countered.

  “Of course I do.”

  “I make her happy and I hope I make her as happy as she makes me.”

  She expelled a sigh and with it her anger dissipated. “I worry about her.”

  “About what, Bee? You should be happy for us.”

  She waved her hands in the air. “My name is Abby.”

  “I’m a good guy. I can take care of the both of you.”

  “I want to believe that, but we’ve never been able to depend on anyone. We’ve had to take care of ourselves.”

  “It’s admirable, but I’m here now and I’m not going anywhere. Tell you what. I’m going to bring us back something to eat. Okay?”

  “Nothing raw.” Her eyes burned and she blinked back tears. She would not get emotional and she would absolutely not cry in front of him.

  He chuckled. “Something green. Got it.”

  When he left, she went upstairs to take a shower but stopped briefly outside Marie’s room. “I can’t believe you let him stay overnight,” she said to the door. “You snuck him in and didn’t tell me.”

  What was happening? Their world was changing faster than she could handle, and she didn’t like it.

  Chapter XVII

  Marie rolled sideways and caught sight of the figure beside her. Propped up on his arm, and emitting warmth like summer sunshine, Odin watched her. She hadn’t expected him to still be in the house, let alone still in her bed.

  “Hello, beautiful.” He captured her hand and kissed it.

  “Did you sleep all day?”

  “Nope. Beester kept me company.”

  “Beester?”

  “You know, Renfield, a.k.a. Abby, recently more appropriately renamed Bee or Beester.”

  Marie giggled. “Were you nice to her?”

  “Of course. I am always nice to her.”

  “No, you two are like bickering siblings, but you must be nice to her, Odin. She is my child.” She reached out and touched his face. “You have been out in the sun. I can feel it. And smell it.”

  He nodded. “For you.”

  She blinked, surprised and speechless by his thoughtfulness. Not since Mathieu had a ma
n meant so much, and it frightened her. It had taken everything she had, years of ingrained precautions to ignore, simply to let him stay with her when she was at her most vulnerable, when Abby was alone in the house defenseless. In an emergency, she could rouse herself from sleep, but the effort would be great and she’d be too weak to be of much use. That gave her nightmares, Abby alone and defenseless.

  “I don’t get how she’s your child or your obsession with humans,” he asked.

  “There is nothing to understand. Supernaturals, for the most part, are boring.”

  “They can be. But aren’t you tired of watching mortals grow old and die? It’s like seeing an old movie. No matter how many times you watch, it’s still going to end the same way.”

  “Watching my husband die was terrible. Watching my son take his last breath was”—she paused—“unbearable. Parents should not outlive their children.”

  “How did you manage?”

  “Not well. I went into the crypt with Marcel.”

  “That’s kind of creepy.”

  She smiled, knowing how it sounded. “I would slip out to feed and then return to my son’s side. The cemetery often had poachers, so I didn’t need to go far. On the third night of my stay, my granddaughter, Gabrielle, came to collect me. I remember it so clearly. She was wearing a pink silk gown, dressed as if she were going to a ball, instead of in mourning for her father. She didn’t believe in mourning death, you see. She believed in celebrating life. She affected me greatly, such a wise way of thinking from someone so young.”

  Her finger trailed absently down his arm. “When Marcel was young, I lived a few houses from him and visited him only when he was sleeping. When he finally became a man, I revealed myself to him and eventually when he married, I moved in with him and his new family. We paid the servants well and no one betrayed us, though fear was probably an even bigger motivation than money.

  “Gabrielle grew up with me, as Abby did. ‘Grand-mère, Papa is at peace and I am here to take care of you now,’ she said to me. Her younger brother, William, stayed behind in England, but she took me home, back to France.” She squeezed her eyes closed, as if she could will herself back in time. “That is how it started.” Opening her eyes, she found Odin staring at her intently.