Immortal Echoes (Haunting Echoes Book 2)

by Caethes Faron

  “Thank you.” She embraced Meg. “Was there any trouble?”

  “None. The whole thing was quite easy. We only had to feed from a few guards so they’d pass out.”

  “Good.” Amaia heard her own nervousness creep into her voice.

  Meg grasped Amaia’s hands, giving her moral support. “Everything is going to be fine. This is good, Amaia. You’re about to get everything you ever wanted.”

  “I want him happy.”

  “He will be. You’ll make sure of it.”

  Amaia took a deep breath to calm her nerves and then laughed at the absurdity of the purely human gesture. Even after two centuries, some mortal habits were hard to break.

  “Do you want to go over it again?”

  Amaia shook her head. She’d rehearsed the coming moments in her mind countless times.

  “Don’t look so nervous. What’s the worst that could happen?”

  “He could die permanently.” Amaia had survived his death multiple times, but if she didn’t transform him properly and he died earlier than normal, she didn’t know if he’d return.

  “Nonsense. You won’t let that happen. You’re an expert at judging when a mortal is reaching his last breath. You’ll know the instant his heart stops. It won’t miss more than a beat before your venom starts it again.”

  “It’s been a while. I should have eaten first, to accustom myself to it again. I’m afraid the lust will overcome me.”

  “If there’s anything you don’t need to question, it’s your self-control. You’ve survived off energies through sheer force of will. This won’t topple you.”

  Amaia wished she possessed Meg’s surety.

  “You’ll do fine, Amaia.” Liam nodded when she met his eyes. “I’ll stay out here with the human. You two go inside and get started. Meg can tell me when it’s time to bring him inside.”

  She didn’t know how she’d do this without her friends’ support. With Meg by her side, she walked to the cottage and prepared to kill her lover for the second time.

  Chapter 9

  Michael paced the cottage floor. A thousand thoughts raced through his mind. There was no telling how many people Meg and Liam had fed from in order to get to his victim. They’d promised not to kill anyone, but he knew a large part of their plan had involved feeding from any humans who might be in the way until they were too weak to cause problems.

  He halted when Meg and Amaia appeared.

  “Everything’s ready. Are you sure you want to do this?”

  He appreciated Amaia asking, but the question had gotten old. “Positive.” Michael sat on the sofa. They’d agreed they would take care of the first part, including the transformation kill, in the living room so the bed wouldn’t get bloodstained before he needed to sleep on it.

  Amaia joined him, and Meg stepped back, giving them some measure of privacy. “I’m going to bite your neck. It won’t hurt. If anything, it should feel pleasurable. Once your heart stops, I’ll open my wrist and feed the blood back to you mixed with my venom. The venom will restart your heart, so you can drink. It’ll taste bitter, but you can’t spit it out. When Meg sees that you’re drinking fine, she’ll tell Liam to come inside. He’ll have your kill. Once you’ve drunk enough, the venom will ignite your veins with an urgency to feed. You’ll be nothing but instinct. Don’t fight it. Give in, and make the kill. Once you’re done, I’ll take you to the bedroom, and you’ll fall asleep as soon as the venom has run its course. It won’t take long at all.”

  They’d talked this through dozens of times, but the familiar words comforted him, eased his nerves. When Amaia explained it, the process seemed so simple. Nothing would go wrong. Michael tucked the stray lock of hair that habitually fell in Amaia’s face behind her ear. He savored the sight of her, trusting that he’d see her again. He wanted to reassure her that he wanted this, that she didn’t need to feel guilty about turning him into something he’d always claimed to hate. There weren’t any words that hadn’t already been said. “I love you.”

  Amaia smiled then nodded to Meg. Michael knew Meg’s support and presence were invaluable to Amaia. When his lover turned back to him, her fangs had descended, and he saw the lust for his blood in her eyes. It had been so long since she’d properly fed. Michael took a little satisfaction in being able to provide her the blood she craved.

  Amaia leaned in, as if she were giving him a kiss. Michael felt a slight pinch and then a pleasurable pressure as she sucked the blood from him. He’d been concerned that it might bring back memories of the night she had killed him, but this was different. Amaia was in control, and he was safe in her embrace. The night she had killed him, she’d looked as if she’d been possessed. Clearly, she hadn’t been in control of herself, just like he wouldn’t be in a little while.

  A satisfied hum came from Amaia as she continued to feed. He reached up and stroked her hair. Drowsiness set in, and shortly after that, his hand dropped from her head. He couldn’t tell if he didn’t have the strength to hold it up any longer or the energy. Probably a mixture of both. He fought to keep his eyes open and then wondered why he bothered. As his eyelids slid shut, he briefly acknowledged that he was finally receiving the peaceful death that had always eluded him.

  Bitter liquid coated his tongue, tinged with the coppery tang of blood. All he wanted was to spit it out and roll over to go back to sleep.

  “Swallow it, Michael. You have to swallow. It’ll taste better soon.”

  Amaia. Yes, Amaia was speaking to him. This was important. Drink. He had to drink. He swallowed and opened his eyes. Her beautiful, slender wrist hovered above his lips. The sight of her helped pull him from the drowsiness. With both hands, he took her proffered wrist and held it to his lips as he sucked. He wanted this to be over as soon as possible so he could start his new life with her. At some point, an urgent fire entered him. The bitter burn of the venom turned into a searing heat that consumed him.

  A wet thumping pierced the air and set his mouth salivating. He broke free from Amaia’s wrist and turned, needing to find the source of the sound. When he turned, he saw Meg and Liam with a man he’d never seen before. Why was he making that sound? Why did every thump cause a new wave of saliva to enter his mouth?

  It didn’t matter. There was no time for questions or answers or thoughts. He needed that human. His entire being knew that the human’s blood was the only thing that would douse the fire in his veins. As Liam held the man still, Michael ripped into his throat, not caring about the mess in his urgency. The thumping sent fresh waves of blood into his mouth before it stopped. Michael barely registered the man’s death. The blood and energy that poured into him from the man were too sweet. The burning venom consumed the energy and cooled with each swallow. When no more blood would come, he turned to Amaia, briefly ashamed of his messy appearance, but the love he saw in her eyes chased away any thoughts.

  “It’s wearing off. I need to sleep.”

  Amaia smiled and offered him her hand. She led him into the bedroom, helped him undress, and then put him to bed. There was so much he wanted to say to her, but by the time his head hit the pillow, he was too tired to even think about talking.

  The remembered sound of thumping lulled him to sleep. A heartbeat, wet and delicious. He’d never known it could be so delicious.

  Chapter 10

  Dreams of thick, sweet blood sliding down his throat, warm and tangy, filled Michael’s mind. His consciousness was aware of the dreams, knew they intermingled with memories. He wanted to wake so he could feel the heady rush of feeding again. He loved it.

  “Michael, I’m here. You did wonderfully. Rest. Enjoy it. I’ll be here when you wake.”

  The sound of her voice in his head comforted him. She was his. They were connected forever now. He sensed her near. He wanted to talk to her, but he couldn’t make himself wake.

  “Don’t fight it. Just relax. You’ll wake when you’re ready.”

  All right. If Amaia said it, then it must be true. He surrendere
d to the dreams. When he woke, he’d be able to feel that same ecstasy again. He needed it. Amaia would help him get it.

  “How much longer do you think it will be?” Amaia asked, but her voice wasn’t in his mind this time.

  “Shouldn’t be much longer. He could wake at any time.” There was Meg.

  “Here’s the blood. He better wake soon if he wants it warm. I don’t know how he’s going to drink the stuff. I’ve never heard of something as stupid as a vampire drinking blood from a glass.” Liam’s mention of blood made Michael’s mouth water.

  “My first blood was from a glass,” Amaia said.

  “Out of necessity, not choice.”

  Michael tired of them speaking without him. He urged his eyelids to rise.

  “Michael?” Amaia grasped his hand. He returned her squeeze and fully opened his eyes.

  The first thing he focused on was his wife. His eyes hadn’t known such beauty existed in the world. Amaia had always been the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen, but that version paled in comparison to the way he saw her now. She took his breath away, except he wasn’t breathing. He pulled a lungful of air in through his nose, and with it came a bouquet of scents he’d never smelled before. The intricacies of Amaia’s scent made his head buzz. Blood flowed to his cock. At least that still worked the same. It would have to wait. From what he’d been told, it didn’t seem he’d be coordinated enough in his new body to make love right away, though he couldn’t wait to experience it.

  He desired the only thing he wanted more than Amaia, and it was the other scent filling his mind. Blood. Amaia held out a glass to him. “Here. Drink.”

  Michael took the glass from her, moving much too fast and sloshing some over the side. It seemed impossible that he’d ever be able to move normally again. How Amaia could move as gracefully as she did mystified him. He momentarily felt ashamed that he craved the blood more than his lover, but he’d have forever to sort through his feelings. For now, he only needed to feed.

  Meg and Liam quietly left as he drank. It was in no way the same as the experience earlier. According to Amaia, something in vampire saliva kept the blood from thickening. It didn’t bother him knowing that Meg or Liam would have spit into it to keep it thin. His disappointment arose from not getting his meal fresh from the source. The blood satisfied his hunger, but not much else. Amaia must have read it on his face. “It’ll never be the same. Even if you feed directly from someone, even if you kill, you’ll never have one that feels the same as your transformation kill.”

  Every fiber of his being was fixated on the experience of killing that man. It was hard to believe that Amaia must have felt the same way about him. “Is this why you chased me all these years? Because of the kill?”

  “You remember?” The surprise lilt in her voice, her raised eyebrows, her widened eyes. He observed them all in such detail.

  “Of course.”

  “That’s rare, Michael. I’ve never known of a vampire who retained human memories so clearly and quickly. I had expected it to take longer for you to even fully grasp who I am.”

  “I understand what you mean about them being shrouded. They are. How could they not be when I perceive the world so differently now? But they’re there. Everything.”

  “All of your lives?”

  “Yes.”

  “That’s amazing.”

  “Perhaps it has something to do with our situation. The monks you studied with believed that everyone reincarnates, yet most people don’t remember other lives. Whatever it is that has made me remember all of mine is probably the same thing that has ensured I’ve retained my memories through the transformation. You haven’t answered my question.”

  Amaia shook her head. “Don’t be silly. I only ever killed you once. Come to think of it, that was the only time I fed from you until I turned you. If I was only interested in you because of the kill, don’t you think I would have killed you again?”

  Michael didn’t understand why she hadn’t. It would be like having a favorite meal over and over again. For the first time, Michael considered that perhaps it was he who didn’t fully comprehend his partner’s love. Despite this realization, he couldn’t help feeling vulnerable. He had just undergone a drastic change and needed reassurance that he had done it for a good reason. “You enjoyed feeding from me.”

  Amaia closed her eyes, seemingly savoring the memory. When she opened them, they were warm with longing. “It was amazing. Better than I had thought it would be.”

  “That could be because you’ve abstained for so long.”

  “No. Your blood was different than anyone else’s. You’ll see. We’ll be exchanging blood soon. At least, I hope so.” Uncertainty entered her eyes. Her entire posture changed. It was almost comical to see someone as confident as Amaia appear so unsure.

  “What do you mean?”

  “That’s how our kind mates, by exchanging blood. I suppose I assumed we would mate, but it’s an important decision that you shouldn’t make lightly. It will bind us forever. We can mind-speak because I sired you. That bond has already formed, but it is nothing compared to the bond of mates, or so I’m told. Vampires die when their mates do. You only ever get one.”

  Michael knew that part. It was the reason he’d decided to become a vampire. He needed to be able to follow Amaia to a permanent death if and when the time came. However, he had never known the details of how it worked. “Then you have nothing to worry about. I’d mate with you now, but I fear I wouldn’t be very good at it.” He tried to lift his arm in a smooth motion only to have it jerk up too quickly.

  Amaia giggled. “You should have seen me right after my transformation. Actually, I’m glad you didn’t. I don’t know if you’d ever be able to think of me as graceful again. Don’t worry. You’ll get used to it in time. Besides, I don’t want us to mate so soon. You’ve gone through enough change. I want you to be sure. This isn’t a decision you want to regret, and we’ll always have our sired bond.”

  Michael knew he wouldn’t regret it. That wasn’t even possible. But he could see her point. If it would give her more peace of mind to wait until she felt he had thought it through, fine. “We’ll wait until you’re comfortable, but if I was going to have second thoughts, I would have already.” He resumed drinking. “I find it hard to believe this is ever going to give me enough energy to sustain me.”

  “You should know that part of what you felt during your transformation kill was not only the effects of the transformation, but the effects of killing. The killing itself feeds you in a way nothing else does. Don’t ever expect simply feeding to even come close. I tell you this so you don’t keep feeding hoping you’ll get the same satisfaction. You won’t.”

  Michael couldn’t deny the sense of loss he felt at her words. He knew he had wanted this transformation, had thought that he would be able to feed from nothing but energy, but he hadn’t expected it to feel like this. Thoughts of blood, feeding, and killing consumed him. If his connection to Amaia hadn’t been strong enough to last centuries, he knew he wouldn’t be able to remember her, not when this new obsession filled every part of his mind.

  “How can you feed off energy? It’s not possible.”

  Amaia shrugged. “You asked me to.”

  The words struck a humbling blow. “I didn’t know what I was asking.”

  “No, you didn’t, but I did.” She reached out and stroked his face, looking at him with so much love he thought he should be able to see it hanging in the air between them. “I knew it would make you happy, that it would make it easier for you.”

  “But even when I was dead, you didn’t feed.”

  “That would have been foolish. It would have been nearly impossible to stop again.”

  A new appreciation for Amaia entered Michael, similar to the feeling he’d had after living as a woman. He’d admired Amaia from the very first time he’d seen her approaching him in her work as a courtesan. She had desired independence when the very notion of it for women had be
en ludicrous. After his life as a woman, he knew exactly what an uphill battle that would have been for her, even more so given that she had lived as a woman long before he had. As a man, it had been impossible for him to comprehend how different life was for women, how they were viewed, the preconceptions and prejudices they faced. Again, his eyes and mind were opened. Every time he thought he knew Amaia, he found out he didn’t comprehend her greatness. He hadn’t realized how judgmental he had been before. He needed to reevaluate some things.

  Meg entered the bedroom carrying two more glasses of blood. “It’s nice to see you awake, Michael. How are you feeling?”

  “Different, but in a good way. Thank you for all of your help.”

  Meg handed him a glass. “You’re welcome. Liam and I will keep the blood coming. If there’s one with a flavor you especially like, let us know, and we’ll get more of it for you.”

  “Flavor?”

  “You probably won’t notice it yet, but there are very subtle differences in blood. Gender, age, smell, they can all affect the taste. I don’t know how smell will affect it since you’re not feeding from the source. Anyway, I just thought I’d mention it.”

  Michael hadn’t given it any thought. The blood he drank seemed disconnected from an actual person. “Please, don’t ever tell me any details about the person.”

  “I won’t.”

  He wanted to ask that they not kill anyone, but he didn’t know how else they would get the blood, and he was too greedy to turn it away. If he didn’t know for sure if people were dying for him, then he could still convince himself that if he did know, he’d be able to refuse the blood.

  The cooling blood was barely tolerable. He craved the warmth, the energy as it poured from a human into his mouth. He didn’t know how he would be able to feed off of auras the way Amaia did. Even if he thought there would ever come a time when he could, he didn’t want to try. Drinking from a glass was bad enough.