Immortal Echoes (Haunting Echoes Book 2)

by Caethes Faron

  He knew he should be grateful to Meg and Liam for all the work they were doing to procure blood for him. He was, but gratitude didn’t make it taste any better. And it wasn’t just a matter of taste, like turning his nose up at sausages because he preferred steak. It was a matter of need. His body called out for the fresh blood of humans. Every part of him craved it.

  The least he could do was be happy with his second-rate blood when Amaia didn’t even allow herself that much. Besides, at some point he’d give up drinking blood altogether. The thought sent a shudder through him. He’d made that resolve before he’d felt the overwhelming lust curling in his stomach. Amaia had been wrong. It wasn’t like being hungry. It was like teetering on the edge of climax and never being allowed release. Michael drank the blood and tried to figure out how he could ever resist the temptation that overwhelmed him.

  Chapter 11

  “How did you ever learn to move like a normal person? Just when I think I have some semblance of control, one of my limbs shoots out too fast and throws me completely off.” Michael was outside with Liam. Amaia had gone with Meg to feed. She would syphon energy from humans while Meg collected blood for him. Her presence had the added benefit of masking Meg’s energy so she wouldn’t be detected by any other vampires they might encounter.

  It was the first time Amaia had left him since the change. Not only had she wanted to hover over him, she had been avoiding the temptation of being around humans. Michael admired her restraint. He didn’t think he’d be able to control himself if he came near a human. Feeding from human auras seemed impossible. The fact that she was still doing it after having fed from him again astonished him. It had been necessary for her to feed on blood one more time to refill her veins after Michael had drunk his blood from her, but after that, she had stopped without so much as a word of complaint. Her willpower confounded him.

  “Practice. That’s what this is for. Move around, get used to the difference. Moving fast comes naturally, so try to slow to a human pace. You won’t be able to be around humans until you can pass for one.” Liam casually strolled next to him, his movements appearing deceptively human.

  “Even if I could pass, I don’t trust myself not to kill.”

  “You won’t. By the time you can control your body, you’ll be able to control the bloodlust.”

  “I thought you didn’t see much point in controlling it.”

  “Self-control is important. Vampires who don’t learn it quickly find themselves killed. None of us will tolerate exposure by a clumsy or death-crazed newborn. I don’t have issue with your desire to keep yourself from killing. I have a problem with your reasons for it. Humans are inferior beings, meant to be hunted by our kind. To pretend otherwise is ridiculous.”

  “I consider life sacred. Humans are God’s children. I can’t kill them.”

  “You had no problem killing animals for food as a human, and you had no problem killing that man so you could become one of us.”

  “I did what I had to do to protect Amaia.”

  “Now that’s something I can respect. Just don’t pretend God has anything to do with it. If there was a God, why would he allow vampires if he had a problem with us? Why make us need human blood to live if it is evil?”

  Michael didn’t know. It was an issue he struggled with. Every moment was a battle to hold to his beliefs. “If you respect my desire to protect Amaia, will you help me learn how to fight? I changed so I would be an asset instead of a liability if anyone comes for her, but I don’t think I’d be much of a challenge.”

  “You wouldn’t.”

  “Your honesty is refreshing,” he said dryly. “Will you teach me?”

  “I could use the fun.” Liam barreled into Michael’s chest, pinning him to the ground. He grasped Michael’s head and began to twist. “A little more pressure, my fangs at your throat, and you’re dead.” Liam stood and offered Michael a hand. “You’ll have to do a little better if you want to keep it fun for me.”

  Michael took his hand, stunned at what had just happened. “That was hardly fair.”

  “I’m a vampire. There’s no such thing as fair.”

  “Is it really that easy to kill me?” In one moment, Liam had made Michael feel as fragile as he had been as a human.

  “Yes. There are three ways you can die: decapitation, burning your body, and destroying your heart. Most vampires go for decapitation. It’s quick, easy, and not as messy as dealing with the heart. What did you just learn?”

  “Not to trust you to fight fair.”

  “Good. You’re too trusting of me.”

  “You wouldn’t ever kill me.”

  “How can you be sure? I don’t have any loyalty to you.”

  “No, but you have to Meg, and she’s loyal to Amaia. If I die, it’ll devastate her. After Amaia and I have mated, my death will kill her. You’d never hurt Meg that way.”

  Liam smiled for the first time Michael had seen. “You’re smarter than you look. Just remember that if a vampire wants you dead, they’ll do whatever they have to in order to make it happen.”

  “Noted. Now, give me a chance to regain my honor.”

  “Honor? How about you just try to stay on your feet this time?”

  Michael noticed the twitch in Liam’s muscles a split second before he vaulted toward him. Michael pushed into the attack, planting his feet and refusing to go down. He and Liam locked into a wrestling stance and struggled for several minutes. It felt like wrestling a tree. It’d probably be easier for him to uproot a pine than to force Liam to the ground.

  Sharp fangs grazed his neck, and Michael froze. “This isn’t a wrestling match. The objective isn’t to pin your opponent, it’s to decapitate him. If this were a real fight, your head would be rolling by now. After I rip out your throat, it doesn’t take much to detach your head. You’d find it hard to fight back as all the blood in your body gushed from your neck.” Liam released him.

  “Defend my neck. Got it.”

  Liam shook his head. “No. In the time it takes you to think about defending your neck, you’ll be dead. You don’t defend your neck. You attack your opponent’s.”

  On and on they fought. Michael felt himself improving, but he was still no match for Liam. The fighting did help smooth out his movements. Michael thought he might just get his mouth to Liam’s neck when the wind shifted, and the most tantalizing scent filled Michael’s nostrils. Blood. Human blood. The only thing in the world that smelled so good.

  In the moment of distraction, Liam shifted his hold and slung Michael over his shoulder, carrying him back into the cottage and dropping him on the floor. “Stay in here.” Liam shut the door and stood in front of it, arms crossed, making it clear that if Michael tried to leave, he’d quickly find himself back on the floor.

  “I thought you didn’t agree with my resolve?” Michael got to his feet.

  “I don’t. I think you’re a fool, but I was charged with keeping you from breaking your commitment, so that’s what I’m doing. If you leave this cottage, you’ll kill that man before you can even think it through. I don’t need your stupid, dramatic guilt upsetting the women.”

  “Amaia said vampires don’t feel guilt over killing.”

  “Normal ones don’t. Who knows how a freak who doesn’t even want to feed, much less kill, will react.”

  Michael didn’t care about his resolve. He wanted nothing more than to run in the direction of the scent and let the blood pour into his mouth, warm and tangy. Perhaps he would put up a fight, try to leave. But he knew it wouldn’t be enough. He didn’t want to just drink blood, he wanted to kill. The desire frightened him. Amaia had assured him—even Liam had—that his bloodlust would come under control. Something about the residual effects of the venom that would fade the more blood he drank. Even if the desire wasn’t there, even if he could convince himself that all he wanted was a taste, Michael had no idea how to feed from a human without accidentally killing him.

  “How do you know it’s a man?”
All Michael could distinguish in the air was blood.

  “The scent. Once you learn to notice more than your own bloodlust, you’ll learn how to discern these things.”

  “Amaia always made it seem like humans stank.”

  “They do. It’s their blood that’s appetizing. You could smell the blood because whoever it is must be cut.” Liam moved from the door and picked up a piece of wood and a carving knife. He took a seat and leaned forward in his chair with his forearms on his knees, working on a squirrel that took shape from the wood.

  “You don’t like me much, do you?”

  “I like you about as much as I like anyone. Meg and I keep to ourselves.”

  “What about Amaia?”

  “Hundreds of years we’ve been alone together. One best friend and traveling companion in all that time hardly makes us clan types.”

  “There’s a clan type?”

  “Vampires come in two basic forms: clan types and nomads. We’ve always been nomads. Part of the fascination with Amaia is that she’s a strange mix of both. She never really belonged with Zenas’s clan.”

  “Now that I’ve turned, how much longer are you going to stay with us?” Michael didn’t want to see Meg and Liam leave. He liked having them around, and Amaia needed Meg. She liked to pretend she didn’t need anyone or that Michael was enough for her, but it wasn’t true. In Meg, she had found her only true friend. Meg’s cheery disposition was a nice counterpoint to Amaia’s seriousness.

  “That’s up to Meg.”

  “I know you don’t much care about Amaia, but I appreciate you and Meg being here to provide a little extra protection for her while she changed me.”

  Liam snorted. “Amaia can take care of herself.”

  “Not with so many vampires hunting her. She’s told me about the price on her head.”

  “It’d take at least six vampires to even be a threat to her. There’s no way that many could get close enough to hurt her without her realizing and escaping. She’s being overly cautious, probably because of you.”

  “How could you possibly think she’d be safe against even a mated pair? From what I understand, the mental link alone would give them the advantage.”

  Liam looked up from his carving for the first time. “You really don’t know who she is, do you?”

  A flash of anger burned through him at Liam’s insinuation. Michael knew there were whole portions of Amaia’s life that he didn’t know about, but he didn’t like the reminder that there were parts of her that others knew better than he did. “I know who she is.”

  Liam shook his head. “You have no idea. Amaia may not be a great friend or loyal to her species or clan, but she’s an exceptional fighter. A killer. Probably has something to do with her ability with auras. At the last great battle between Zenas and Ezekial, she singlehandedly took out a whole swath of Ezekial’s vampires. The battle was over, Zenas wasn’t sending anymore of his vampires in, and she charged onto the field anyway. Afterward, it was her Zenas sent to execute the vampires who didn’t answer his summons to battle. Amaia’s reputation is well known in the vampire world, and it isn’t for her winning personality.”

  Michael’s initial instinct was to call Liam a liar, but he knew better. While he didn’t like to think Amaia capable of such things, Liam had no reason to lie to him. Amaia had told him she enjoyed killing, had told him about the battle—though she had spared him the details. This part of her was due to her transformation into a vampire. She battled the same lust for killing that he did. He couldn’t fault her for that. He needed to accept that he was one of them now. While he thought he had come to terms with Amaia being a vampire, he realized that he never truly had. Instead, he’d simply ignored the less palatable parts of her existence. He couldn’t move into their future by ignoring the realities of her past and their shared present. Besides, he’d rather think of her killing other vampires than humans. Surely killing others of their kind couldn’t be as disturbing as when he’d seen her kill a human right in front of him. Then again, he’d killed someone now too.

  “Whether she can take care of herself or not, I appreciate both of you being here. Amaia needs Meg, and I need to learn how to protect Amaia. I’d like to not have to rely on her in order to escape conflict with other vampires.”

  “Actually, vampires aren’t particularly violent toward one other. It’s the clans who cause trouble. That’s why most nomads hate them. We manage to live in peace just fine without them. If a rogue vampire gets out of control, we take care of it. There’s more than enough land for everyone—especially if the clans would stop turning people in order to increase their numbers—so territory disputes are rare amongst nomads. If there ever is a problem, it’s a fight between mated pairs. One couple dies, one survives, and then it’s over. The clans claim to be coalitions to help protect our species, but they’re nothing more than power-hungry vampires trying to bully the rest of us. The whole tribute system is ludicrous.”

  “So why don’t the nomads destroy the clans? Do you not have the numbers for it?”

  “Oh the nomads outnumber the clans, no question, but the kind of coordinated effort it would take to disband the clans would require forming a clan of our own. It’s a bit of a conundrum.”

  Michael wondered why they couldn’t just join together to fight and then disband. Of course, there would always be those who would want to keep a nomad clan together to seek power, especially with the vacancy left by dismantling the clans. Michael had never been one to seek power, but he’d spent many of his lives surrounded by those who did.

  The breeze picked up and intensified the scent of blood coming through the chimney and cracks in the door. “Can’t that blasted man move on already?”

  Liam looked up from his carving. “You want me to go take care of him?”

  “No.” Michael didn’t sound convincing even to himself. The only truth that lay in the statement was that he wanted to be the one to take care of the mortal, to feel the blood pour down his throat. It’d be warm, pulsed into his mouth by a heartbeat that would gradually fade into nothingness.

  “Try to think about something else.”

  Michael shook his head to dislodge the daydream. “It’s hard to believe that I’ll ever be able to think of anything else.”

  Liam chuckled. “You will, just like you grew out of thinking about nothing but sticking your prick somewhere. You’ll always want it, but you’ll learn to think about other things.”

  Michael laughed. Come to think of it, his usual lust had dimmed in light of the more pressing matter of feeding. He sat on the sofa and stretched his legs out in front of him. Amaia was just the kind of distraction he needed right now.

  “Where are you?”

  “Not far. We’ll be back soon.”

  God, it was nice to have her voice in his head. It was intimate, like a whisper in the ear, only more so. “You were able to get the energy you needed?”

  “Yes. Are you and Liam getting along?”

  “He’s confined me to the cottage. Someone with an open wound wandered nearby.”

  “And you didn’t attack?”

  “Not for lack of desire. Liam forced me back inside. It wasn’t a highlight for my pride.”

  “Good. I’m glad to see he’s taking his responsibility seriously.”

  “I need a distraction.”

  “What kind of a distraction?”

  “The kind only you can provide.” Michael relaxed into the sofa, only to remember that he had an audience. He went to the bedroom, noticing Liam’s knowing smile before he closed the door. Even though he didn’t sleep anymore, the bed had its uses. He lay down and undid his trousers, intent on drowning out the smell of blood with a different kind of lust.

  Chapter 12

  The slight pressure of Amaia’s hand in his helped direct his movements, a little squeeze and pull to slow down, a push to move faster—although those were rare. In Michael’s mind, her soothing voice did the most important job: remind him to slow his nat
ural speed with grace to avoid jerky movements.

  “How was that?” He and Amaia had just walked a few hundred yards with Meg and Liam observing.

  “Much better. You can almost pass. The only giveaway was that you stopped breathing every time you had to adjust your gait. And when you pause, you don’t move enough. Try to amble more.” Meg delivered the advice with her usual smile and good humor, but Michael had difficulty taking it that way.

  “Don’t worry. You’ll get the hang of it. We’re being overly cautious. One thing about humans is that they are horribly unobservant. No one but us will be able to tell unless you spend an inordinate amount of time around the same people. You’re ready to be seen by humans, and you’ll only get better.” Amaia kissed him, and Michael could do nothing but believe her. When she looked at him with so much love, he felt invincible.

  “I can’t believe you were able to pass within a day.” Michael had heard the story of Amaia’s own transformation.

  “I was an incredibly rare case.”

  “She’s right. The vampires who saw her that first night couldn’t believe how well she moved. They spread the story pretty far. That’s how I first heard about her,” Meg said.

  Amaia turned to Meg. “Really? I didn’t know that.”

  “Only because you’ve never been interested in indulging in gossip like the rest of us. We have to find some way to amuse ourselves. You were always much too immersed in the human world.”

  “Even if I am learning at an average pace, I don’t know how to feed. I don’t trust myself not to kill. Drinking blood the way I have may not have been wise. It does nothing other than frustrate me and make me want to kill even more.”

  “Of course it does. It’s unnatural.” The disapproval in Liam’s voice was mirrored in his stance. Michael didn’t know if he would ever win the other man’s respect.

  Meg tapped her forefinger against her lips, as if in thought. “It is unusual. You may be right about the way you’re feeding making it worse. Most vampires don’t care about their first few feedings. We usually learn by experience.”