Immortal Echoes (Haunting Echoes Book 2)

by Caethes Faron

  Michael loosened his tie as he paced the floor of their apartment. Most likely, she had felt a vampire and needed to take a circuitous route home. She mimicked humans perfectly while in public, and that meant sacrificing speed and stealth. If the vampire was too close to their home, she might even have to wait him out for a little while just to be safe. The likelihood that she was in any real danger was small. Caution was the much more likely culprit.

  Unless it was Lawrence. He was the only real threat to them because only he had ever felt Michael’s energy. Amaia didn’t think he had been skilled enough when Michael knew him to be able to point his energy out in a crowd, but they didn’t know for sure. If Lawrence had appeared in Paris, Amaia could be in real trouble.

  And all he could do was wait.

  And pace.

  And punch a hole in the plaster when a glance at the clock showed another half hour had passed.

  The throbbing in his hand only reminded him how completely useless he would be in defending Amaia. If vampires descended on them, Michael wouldn’t be able to protect the woman he loved. The helplessness infuriated him. Humans had several myths designed to make them feel safe against vampires, but Michael knew they were just the vain searching of helpless creatures for a little bit of control against a predator they couldn’t defeat. Even God would be no help to him if they were attacked.

  Michael stilled at the sound of footsteps in the hall. His gaze flew to the door, and he held his breath until Amaia burst through.

  “Thank God.” Michael strode to her and wrapped her in his arms, burying his head in the hair that hung loose around her shoulders.

  “What’s wrong, Michael?” Amaia’s arms wrapped around him, and one hand tangled in his hair.

  “I was going to ask you the same thing. What took so long?” Michael released her and immediately cursed himself when he saw the artificially composed expression on her face. He should have taken better care to see the emotions on her face before she had a chance to school them.

  “I must have lost track of time.”

  Michael gripped her shoulders, harder than he would have if she had been mortal. “Bull, something’s wrong. You were gone for two hours when it should have only taken you twenty minutes to get to Notre Dame and back, even at a human pace. Don’t lie to me, Amaia.” He saw in her eyes that she wanted to maintain the deception, but eventually she looked away. Michael loosened his grip and followed her as she sat at the table.

  “I read Meg’s letter at the cathedral and penned a reply.”

  “That still doesn’t account for the time.”

  “Meg’s gotten wind of some rumors.”

  Michael’s heartbeat gained speed. This could be the news he’d been waiting for. “What kind of rumors?”

  “Not the good kind. Zenas has found out about Meg and Liam’s inquiries. They tried to stay clear of any of Zenas’s clan, but with all the talking they’ve done with other vampires, it was just a matter of time before it got back to him somehow.”

  “So he knows they’re looking for a way to turn a vampire mortal?” Michael didn’t understand why that should concern them or Zenas.

  “It’s not that simple. Zenas isn’t stupid. He’s the leader of the most powerful vampire clan for a reason. He knows Meg and Liam are looking, and he knows they’re the only friends I have. It’s not a great leap to know that they’re looking for me. I’m the only vampire who has any reason to want to turn mortal.”

  Michael’s heart tightened. “You think he’s going to pursue you now?”

  “He’s wanted me dead ever since I refused to let you be killed and turned my back on Lawrence and the clan. The only reason we’ve had this much peace is because he has no shortage of diversions. Not only has this brought us back to his attention, but it will infuriate him. Turning my back on the clan is unforgivable enough in his eyes, but turning my back on my species? Desiring to be mortal? It’s an abomination he won’t stand for. No vampire would.”

  “Then we run. We’ve done it before.” Michael gripped Amaia’s hand. He’d brought this trouble into Amaia’s life, and there was nothing he could do about it. If another vampire tried to kill her, the most he could do was die in her defense.

  “No, it’s not that bad. I did a search of the city and surrounding areas. There’s the same mated pair that’s been here since we arrived and the usual number of transients.”

  “There’s been a pair of vampires here the entire time?” Amaia had never said anything about other vampires.

  “Of course. This is Paris. Zenas isn’t going to let anyone else have this territory.” Amaia’s lips formed a sheepish smile. “I knew my skill had improved enough to keep me hidden. There’s no way anyone can tell that I’m a vampire. With so many humans to draw from, my energy is constantly at the same frequency as a mortal’s now. Without being able to sense that I’m a vampire, it’s unlikely they’d recognize me. The only time anyone outside of his inner circle would have seen me would have been during a battle we fought with Ezekial’s clan. Those who saw me there wouldn’t have known my name. I was covered in blood and mud anyway. Besides, no vampire would think to even look at me since my aura doesn’t feel undead.”

  Michael didn’t like these reminders that there was an entire vampire world Amaia had taken part in. His heart clenched at the thought of Amaia in battle. Normally, his fears were soothed by the knowledge that Amaia couldn’t be harmed by mortals, but in a vampire battle, she would be at incredible risk. Michael reminded himself that it was in the past. Clearly, she had come out of it just fine.

  “Why didn’t you tell me there were other vampires here?” He should have known. Like Amaia said, when he thought about it, it was obvious that one of the great European cities would have vampires.

  “I didn’t want you to worry. They aren’t a threat to us. They’ve demanded tribute from any other vampires who have been in the area. If they had even an inkling that I was here, they would have confronted me by now.”

  “Tribute?”

  “Any vampire who wants to hunt in this territory must pay for the privilege. Paris has always been under Zenas’s control. However, the risk for us here is relatively low. Nomads avoid cities this large. They may hunt here, but they won’t set up residence. The only reason to tolerate this many humans is if you’re required to. It’s only made tolerable by the extreme wealth Zenas’s vampires have at their disposal. He wants power, and that means money and having every imaginable comfort. I’ll admit it’s also fun to mingle with humans who feel so powerful, knowing how easy it would be to destroy them all.”

  Amaia clearly pined for the life she had abandoned for him. He wished he could give it all to her. “That’s why you’ve insisted we keep a low profile.”

  “Yes. Zenas’s vampires are easy to track and stay clear of. There are vampires outside the city, but they’re not looking for us. This is really one of the safest places we can be. Zenas won’t tolerate the peace being disturbed in one of his cities, especially one as valuable as Paris. Vampires fighting in the streets is hardly something he would approve of.”

  “So what do we do now?” Michael knew there was nothing he could do. For a moment, he wondered if he was glad Amaia had shared this news with him. Better to know than be left wondering. Better to be prepared.

  “Nothing. We keep living our lives as normal. The only change is that I want us to stay together. No more time apart. I’ll be monitoring the energies around us more closely, and if something changes, I want to know that you’re with me. Much of my time this evening was spent taking a convoluted way home out of paranoia. If you’re with me, I never have to worry about accidentally leading someone to you. I can’t live with that worry.”

  “All right. I have a change I want as well. I need you to be completely honest with me about the danger, Amaia. I can’t believe you’ve hidden the presence of other vampires from me. I don’t know why it surprises me, given your apparent inability to rely on anyone else for support, but I need
it to end. We’re either partners or we’re not.”

  Amaia nodded. Michael didn’t like this new knowledge swirling in his head. If the danger increased, Amaia wouldn’t be able to escape. She’d never leave him, and he would slow her down. The part of Amaia’s story that bothered him the most was what she left unsaid. She consistently downplayed the danger facing them, which meant that the situation was worse than she had made it out to be. Something was different about the threat this time.

  Amaia had mentioned something about no vampire being able to stand such an abomination. An icy dagger pierced his heart, and suddenly he knew. It wasn’t just Zenas and his clan who were after them now. “How much?”

  “What?”

  “How much is the price on your head? Mine?”

  Amaia’s eyes widened, and she looked away. “Enough.”

  “And it’s not just his clan anymore, is it?”

  “No.”

  “The truth, Amaia. All of it.”

  “In the past, despite Zenas wanting me dead, we also moved somewhat within the protection of his clan. Ezekial’s clan and the other smaller ones as well as the nomads didn’t concern themselves with me. Zenas takes it as a personal insult when one of his members is killed by someone outside the clan. According to Meg’s letter, Zenas has made it clear that he wants me dead by anyone’s hand. Ezekial must be itching to have me killed. I was one of Zenas’s golden children. Any vampire would love to kill me, and now they have no reason not to. You don’t understand how offensive my existence is to them. To fall in love with a mortal is bad enough, but to keep him mortal and instead try to find a way to join him? It’s unthinkable. We are the supreme species. If there’s anything that unites vampires, it’s our superiority to mankind.”

  Yet they still engaged in the same petty conflicts that humans did, only on a larger scale. Michael heard the clock ticking on the mantle. The second hand seemed intolerably loud in the silence. Every second was one less he had to live. Time stalked him. No matter how hard he tried not to think about it, time always continued on, passing with no thought to the life it took. Time now had a new prey. Amaia had just become a victim to it as much as he was. She might refer to herself as immortal, but she wasn’t really. There would be no return for her from death. She’d already cheated it once.

  In that moment, Michael knew that once he died this time, there was a very real chance he would never see Amaia again. An eternity of lonely lives stretched out before him. Each time he was reborn, he’d be forced to relive the anguish and sorrow of being without her. Permanent death would be a blessing. In a twisted irony, he would seek out vampirism just so he could be killed with the promise of no more living without Amaia. He’d behave the exact way a vampire mate would.

  The decision had been made for him. He was destined to be a vampire. His only choice in the matter was the timing.

  Chapter 6

  Michael woke to the smell of sausages cooking and smiled. The smell more than the calendar told him today was his birthday. Amaia cooked for him only one day of the year. While she had quickly abandoned her “moral objections” to eating meat, he abstained in order to show solidarity with her. His birthday was the one day Amaia had been able to convince him to indulge.

  Michael wrapped himself in his robe and went to the kitchen. Amaia was engrossed in watching the sausages, making sure they didn’t burn. She could move so fast that sometimes Michael could barely see her. Watching her in a situation where she couldn’t speed up the outcome interested him. She might be able to do things in seconds instead of minutes, but nothing could make fire cook food faster.

  “Stop making fun of me.” Amaia spoke without turning. He hadn’t thought for a moment that she hadn’t heard him enter.

  “I didn’t say anything.” Michael strode into the room, encircling Amaia’s waist from behind and kissing her neck.

  “No, but you were thinking it.”

  “You couldn’t possibly know that.”

  “I know everything.”

  “Including how to bake, apparently.” Michael caught sight of a fresh loaf of bread on the counter.

  “Lucky for you I’ve given up all hope of being able to bake. There are pastries on the table from that place you like on the corner.”

  Lucky indeed. Amaia didn’t have a domestic bone in her body. She’d never been meant for life as the wife of a laborer. While she was good at almost everything she did, baking was much too precise for her. She could barely cook an edible meal. Of course, not being able to taste it the same way a human did presented a sizable obstacle. Somehow though, Michael didn’t think she’d been able to cook before the transformation either.

  He sat and ate a fresh croissant. Flaky and perfect. He’d miss this. The last few days, he’d savored his mortality, taking in every experience he could. Today, he was going to tell Amaia about his decision. A part of him felt bad about keeping the secret, but he’d needed this bit of time to accustom himself to the idea before sharing it. The time had been meant to take in all of the aspects of his humanity he’d be losing, but it’d also been a time for him to reconcile himself to the fact that he was going to become something he had always considered evil. He didn’t want his guilt and remorse over that to bleed into his conversation with Amaia.

  A plate appeared before him, stacked high with sausage, bacon, and a questionable-looking quiche. Amaia beamed at him, proud of her effort.

  “It looks delicious. Thank you.” Michael picked up his fork and decided to try the quiche first. He doubted letting it cool would do anything for the taste.

  Amaia sat next to him. “You could try sounding a little more enthusiastic. So the quiche might not be so good. There are plenty of pastries from the bakery, and see all the sausage and bacon?”

  “You’re right. It’s a lovely meal.” Michael patted her knee and then tried a bite of the quiche. The consistency was strange, but it didn’t taste horrible. In fact, if he forgot that it was supposed to be quiche, it was somewhat enjoyable.

  “Apparently, quiche is a no in the future. But I at least got the bacon crispy the way you like it.”

  “Yes you did. It’s delicious.”

  Amaia sighed. “I don’t know how I ever didn’t believe you when you said you loved me. You’re a horrible liar.”

  Michael laughed. “The quiche really isn’t that bad. I love this little tradition of ours.” A tradition that would never be repeated. The thought saddened him, and he pushed it away, focusing on his meal. He had never gotten over the slight awkwardness of eating without her joining him. It was better than the alternative of having her pretend to enjoy eating human food, but just barely.

  When he’d eaten everything—even every last bite of the quiche—he sat back in his chair and watched Amaia clear his place. When she sat back down, he knew it was time. He wanted to put it off, as if not saying the words aloud would prevent them from being true. The future scared him. The thought of becoming a vampire sickened him. But sitting next to him was the woman he loved more than it should be possible to love a person, and she was a vampire. She would make everything all right. As much as he wanted to be the protector and provider, he knew it was time to rely on her strength to get him through what was coming.

  “What is it, Michael? Something’s been on your mind.”

  It occurred to him that he would never again be known by another name. For the rest of time, he would be known as Michael, and that pleased him immeasurably. He wouldn’t get a better opening, but he had a difficult time finding the words. He’d never been one for flowery speech. Amaia would have come up with some eloquent way to say it. There was no sense trying to dress it up when he didn’t even have that ability during the best of times. All he could do was blurt it out. “I want you to turn me into a vampire.”

  Amaia completely stilled in a way that she rarely did in Michael’s sight. He’d seen her that way when he woke in the morning and looked at her before she saw him. While she didn’t try to mimic humans around him,
she naturally mirrored his human movements and spent most of her time blending in flawlessly with the mortals surrounding them in the city. She breathed and tapped her fingers, moved in the subtle ways that all people do. Seeing her statuesque stillness reminded him how different she normally looked. Surprise filled her eyes, and then they succumbed to an array of emotions. He’d expected a more expressive response. As much as he wanted to, he didn’t speak. He needed to know what her first words in response to his announcement would be.

  “Are you sure?”

  There was no denying the hint of relief in her voice. Becoming a vampire would make so many parts of their life easier. But he could tell her question was sincere. She wouldn’t take advantage of this revelation to turn him without knowing he had thought it through. “Yes. I came to the decision a couple of weeks ago. I’ve had plenty of time to consider it, and it’s the only logical conclusion.”

  “You’ve never been one for logic.” He knew she referenced his spiritual beliefs. They’d always been nonsensical to her.

  “There are some realities even I must face. I’m ready for this. I want it. You’ll be safer if I’m not such a liability. There’s also the chance that once I’m a vampire, the danger will retreat completely.”

  “No. Don’t let that delusion affect your decision. Even if you become a vampire, it won’t change the past. I’ve made the decisions I have, and I’ll always be judged for them by my kind. If you think becoming a vampire will call off the manhunt, you’re wrong. It won’t be as intense, perhaps, but we won’t be welcomed by Zenas’s clan.”

  “Even so, this is the best option we have. I want to be with you, Amaia. I can’t risk losing you. I won’t be a liability any longer.”

  “You hate vampires.”

  “I love you.”

  “I won’t let you become something you hate. You think it’s a sin.”

  “Well, God hasn’t left me with any other choice. If he doesn’t like it, he’s more than welcome to give me a viable alternative. Being without you isn’t an option.” He’d spent countless hours praying for some other solution to his problem. He’d prayed to confirm his decision to change. God hadn’t given him any sign he objected. That would have to be enough.