Death's Redemption (The Eternal Lovers Series)

by Marie Hall

  Because Mila was undead, the effects were harmless to her. Anything else would suffer hallucinations, seizures, vomiting, before the heart finally stopped beating. It would be a grisly way to go.

  Laying it gently on top of her, he couldn’t help but feather his finger across her delicate cheekbone. Her skin was so brittle and cold, and his heart ached to see her in this position. He debated whether to tell her he’d return soon, but he wasn’t even sure she’d be able to hear him.

  “Don’t worry, little one, I’ll come back very soon,” he whispered before turning.

  Each reaper had a unique and specialized gift only they had. His was speed—being able to move at the velocity of thought. Standing erect, he scanned the rolling hills, knowing he’d smell the deer before he actually saw it.

  Gathering scent from the wind, he waited until he caught its trail again. Then he was off. Time jumping would be easiest, but not the most effective, as being within the tunnel would cut off his ability to scent it out.

  The world was a blur of color, browns and blues and grays and greens all melding into one chaotic clash. Moving in between trees, he never stopped drawing lungfuls of air.

  It was easy to follow; deer were generally stupid creatures, and though it could likely sense a predator’s approach, it would never be able to outrun him. The animal was farther than he’d initially estimated. He’d easily run a mile by this point.

  Hunters had likely overrun this place not so long ago, killing off many deer already. The one he’d tracked was the only one he smelled for miles in any direction. But soon the cool tang of water and freshly shorn grass had him veering to the right. Close now, he stopped, not wanting to spook the animal further. Able to make it out now, he noted it was a buck, only a few years old. There was still velvet on its antlers. Its head was high, its black nose in the air, and its eyes wide and alert.

  The deer had to weigh almost two hundred pounds. Maybe a little too big for her, but he’d make steak out of whatever she didn’t consume.

  The next breath the deer took would be its last. Frenzy was upon it in less than a second, cracking its neck with a firm twist, watching as the beautiful creature dropped, lifeless, to the ground.

  Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, he inclined his head. All fae folk were in tune with nature and her children; killing one wasn’t sport. At least not for him. Needing to hurry back to her, he grabbed it by its midsection. Grunting under the weight of it.

  He was a fast runner, but not with this thing on his back. Opening a rift in time, he brought the deer with him, returning to the clearing.

  She was as he’d left her, eyes closed and not breathing. The grass she’d been on, which had once been lush and green, was now an ugly shade of yellowish brown. Beside her feet lay the rigored body of a garden snake.

  Breathing a sigh of relief as he tossed the deer to the ground beside her, he picked up his shirt and put it back on.

  “Wake up. I’ve brought you food.”

  Doing up the last button, he gently tapped her foot. But she still didn’t move.

  Kneeling, he pulled her to a semisitting position, leaning her torso and head against his chest.

  “Wake up, woman,” he said forcefully, and realized he was one again slipping into the douche bag role of his. Because he was angry at himself for the position she was now in. He should have forced her to eat yesterday, but he wasn’t a vampire and knew little of what it meant to be a shifter. He’d never expected this to happen to her, and it was all his damn fault.

  Rubbing his thumbs across her face, he whispered, “Come on, O’Fallen, wake up.” He shook her a little, but all it did was cause her head to flop forward.

  “Damn me to the gates of hell,” he growled. He should have known better. He’d been told time and again how out of touch he truly was, and this was just another reminder of that truth.

  Frenzy tried again, but not even a flicker of awareness crossed her face. “You have been such a pain in my ass,” he growled, and then sighed. “And I’d be really pissed if you left me now.” Then, dragging the carcass to him, he called the fire of transformation onto his hand.

  He watched as the flesh turned to bone. He had no knife handy; his death hand was the best he was going to get out here. Sinking his fingers deep into the deer’s neck, he flicked his wrist. Tearing it open, he prepared the meal for her to take easily.

  “Now wake up.” He shook her, trying to get her head to lull forward into the deer. But of course, it wouldn’t be so easy. Grabbing the back of her skull with his free hand, he shoved her face-first into the blood bath pooling from the deer’s neck. He didn’t want to be so forceful with her, but she needed blood in her now. He’d ask her forgiveness later.

  He began to worry when there was no movement, but a minute later he heard the faint sounds of swallowing.

  “Yes, that’s right, O’Fallen.” A wave of relief engulfed him. “Drink it all. Take it in, girl, you cannot go without food. Don’t do this to me again.” On and on he encouraged her, but he doubted she was hearing him. She was too entranced with her meal.

  A minute later he breathed a sigh of relief when the gray tint of her skin turned the familiar iridescent white. Finally she began moving, not using him so much to sit upright. She was moving into the beast, grabbing hold of its neck and downing giant gulps.

  Her pale hair gleamed like gold in the brilliant rays of sunlight, and he was finally able to ease off her, let her alone so she could finish eating in privacy. Standing, he looked down at his pants, dusting them off when with a loud sigh she pulled away, groaning and holding on to her stomach.

  “I don’t feel good.” Her eyes were wild, the irises shot through with pinpricks of fresh blood. Red covered her lips and chin, dribbled down her neck.

  “It’s because you starved yourself. You’ll feel better soon. Just finish drinking.”

  She grimaced. “I don’t think that’s it. My stomach really hurts.” She winced again, doubling over and kicking the deer away.

  Mila looked like the drawings he’d always seen of wild women. The way her hair was standing up around her head, gnarled and knotted with grass and debris. Her clothes were torn and in desperate need of changing. Suffering a brief flare of remorse that he hadn’t exactly been the best host, he shrugged it off; there was nothing he could do about it now.

  She was moaning again, eyes squeezing tight, and bending over to rub her head back and forth on the dirt.

  Starting to worry now, he took a step toward her, holding out his palm as if to rub her back, realizing just a second before he did it she might not thank him for it. “Maybe you’re not a blood drinker, then. Maybe you need actual meat?”

  “Oh gods, it hurts,” she said in a breathless whisper, brogue thick on her tongue.

  Deciding he didn’t care if she thanked him or not, he placed his hand on her back and was shocked to discover she was burning up. “What the hell is going on with you?”

  “Please.” Her voice shook with tears. “Help me. I can’t, I need…” She didn’t finish her statement, because now she was crying.

  Caught completely off guard, Frenzy found himself in panic mode. She was the first shampire he’d ever heard of. Was their physiology really so different from their makers? Forgetting all about trying to salvage his clothing, he shoved his hand deep into the deer’s belly, searching around until he found the liver. Yanking it out, he offered it to her.

  “Eat this.”

  “No.” She moaned again, curling into her body.

  “O’Fallen, I think that maybe you need meat more than you need blood. Try it and see. It’s probably going to help you feel better.”

  “Oh gods, oh gods,” she repeated over and over while holding out a trembling hand for the piece of liver.

  He handed it to her, waiting on bated breath for her to take the first bite. Her nose wrinkled when she brought it to her lips.

  “I think I’m going to be sick.” She did a dry heave, clamping down
on her lips before she could bring anything up.

  Getting down on her level, he rubbed her back up and down trying to help ease the trembling running down her spine. “Do it. Don’t think about it.”

  Normally he hated to see the way others ate their food. Death might take life, but they were cultured and infinitely more civilized compared to other species when it came to eating a meal.

  But he was determined to stay with her, to give her whatever support he could to make sure she’d get it down, because he didn’t like to see her suffer this way. He wanted the woman with fire in her tongue, the woman who sparred with him and made him feel, ache, and want. Mila was suffering and, for the first time in a long time, he was bothered by someone else’s agony.

  Bringing his hand beneath hers, he helped bring it to her lips. “Part your lips,” he ordered softly.

  She did it, with a whimper.

  “Bite.”

  She bit.

  It wasn’t a large bite, just a small dainty one, but the effects were immediate. The shivering stopped, the trembling of her hands ceased. She took another, a bigger one this time.

  “Oh gods,” she moaned. “I can’t believe I’m doing this.” She didn’t sound happy about it.

  “You’re feeling better, right?” he grunted, in no mood to deal with any sort of moral objections. She had to eat, period. It was essential to her health and well-being, and if he had to be the bad guy about this, then he would.

  Taking two more bites, she swallowed them hard and then tossed the liver through the air so far it faded from sight into the distance.

  “What was that for?” he growled.

  “I…I…can’t. It was…raw.” And with those words, she gulped. Once, twice, three times, and then she was scrabbling forward on her knees and everything she’d eaten had come up.

  “Mila, no!” It wasn’t her that he was mad at; he was furious with himself. His heart was pounding, his breathing ragged. She had to eat. He wouldn’t lose her, not because of something like this. Last night he’d decided to make things right, to work through this and be there for her. They were stuck with each other, and it was time to stop being enemies, and learn to work together.

  “It’s raw and warm,” she hissed, smearing the blood across her lips. “I can’t eat that way.”

  “You’re going to have to. O’Fallen, it’s a matter of sanity or insanity. This won’t kill you, so please don’t think to kill yourself that way. You’re dead now and that’s just how this goes. I’m sorry.” And he really truly was; sorry to see her suffering so much, sorry that she’d never asked for any of this, sorry that he’d been so much of a problem for her.

  “I haven’t forgotten, you stupid bastard!” She stood to shaky feet.

  “O’Fallen, you look like hell. You have to eat.” He tried again, hoping to make her see reason.

  “I feel like hell. What did you do to me last night?” She grabbed her head, stumbling forward in a drunken waltz.

  “Me?” He stabbed his chest. “I was sleeping. I found you this morning, in a coma. A food coma. I’m trying here.”

  “Then feed me!” she hissed, before latching weak arms around the skinny trunk of a tree.

  “What do you think I just did?”

  And for a split second the old, closed-off Frenzy surged to fore. That she was ungrateful, undeserving…but then he stopped himself, because none of this was her fault. It was his, plain and simple. And maybe Lise’s for not telling him how in the hell to properly care for a hybrid.

  “Real food.”

  Grabbing both sides of his head, he glared. He’d taken down a deer; what else could he possibly do?

  “I can’t eat that, Frenzy. It makes me sick. You should have just let me die,” she growled, still clinging to the tree as if for dear life. “This is too hard. If you can’t help me, how in the hell am I going to survive any of this?”

  “O’Fallen, giving up is not an option.”

  “Why does this even matter to you now? You sure as hell didn’t care what happened to me last night.”

  His nostrils flared; he wasn’t sure whether to share his epiphany. She was moody and food deprived, and she’d laugh at him. The thought of that galled him.

  “You suck, death.” She laughed weakly.

  “Damn you, O’Fallen,” he muttered, because they shouldn’t have, but her words bothered him. The last thing he wanted was for her to believe that about him.

  “It’s Mila.” She coughed weakly. Looking around, she finally seemed to become aware of where they were. “We’re out in the open? Where are we?”

  “George’s place.”

  She coughed again and already he could see her strength weakening as she sank slowly to the ground. “We need to hide.”

  “I’m not going anywhere with you looking like a vampire’s bride. You’re covered in blood.” He waved his hand at her.

  Glancing down at herself, her nose curled, as if she was just now noticing how awful she looked.

  “There’s a small lake a few yards in the distance. You need to clean up. That blood will attract too many things.”

  She didn’t ask what he meant by that, but he figured she understood he wasn’t referring to forest creatures, but the possibility of others being drawn to the scent of death.

  “Where we going after this?” Amber eyes stared at him, and there was no longer any fire or heat in them, just pure exhaustion.

  He wanted to hate her; it would be so easy to give in to it, to wrap himself up in that sharp emotion and not let her get through, but it just wasn’t in him anymore. All he really wanted now was to keep her safe.

  “I haven’t decided yet. Can you stand?”

  Rocking forward on her butt, she made as if to get to her feet, but sighed and dropped back instead. “No.”

  “Here.” Walking over to her, he held out his arm. She grabbed on and then he gently pulled her up.

  Nodding her thanks, she clutched onto his back. Her body was no longer hot, or even warm—she was clammy and cool again. She still needed food.

  “Frenzy,” she whispered softly.

  “What?” he asked as he scooped her into his arms. She was light as a feather compared to the deer.

  “Did you catch that for me?”

  He debated whether to lie or not, but finally just sighed. “Yes.”

  Laying her head on his shoulder, she nodded. “Thank you.”

  First she bit his head off for feeding it to her, and now she was thanking him. He’d never understand women. Surely Adrianna hadn’t been this temperamental. Of course, she’d been cosseted and pampered her whole life; she’d never been thrust into an impossible situation like this.

  “You still need to eat it.” Turning, he walked toward the lake where he’d captured the deer. It wasn’t that far of a distance.

  “Not raw. Please.” Her voice shook a little.

  Why was she so bound and determined to hang on to conventional human strictures?

  “Raw is the best and easiest way for your new body to metabolize food. But if you feel you can’t eat it that way, then we’ll figure something out. I still think raw is best, though.”

  “You just saw what happened with that.”

  He shook his head. “I think it’s because you convinced yourself you couldn’t eat it. You forget, I saw you moaning, inhaling it. You enjoyed the taste.”

  Mouth tipping down into a frown, she closed her eyes. “All my life, I’ve fought you guys. Seen the ugly and despicable things you’re capable of doing. You tell me now I have no choice but to be this way, for who knows how long. Don’t you understand, even a little?”

  Those familiar amber eyes grew wide, pleading silently for him to get it. But he simply couldn’t. Why would she want to hang on to a past that was so frail and weak that a mere vampire bite was lethal? The lifespan of a mortal was so impossibly short as to be laughable.

  Dragging his nose along the length of her collarbone, he inhaled deeply. “Why would you want to
change? You smell of fresh earth after a spring rain. Your skin gleams like you’ve been lit from within with candlelight. What is the appeal of returning to a form that sickens and decays? Withers from disease? Why would you want to hang on to any part of that past life?”

  Her eyes were huge as she stared at him, her mouth lax, and he wondered at her strange transformation. Was she slipping back into a coma?

  Trembling, she shook her head as if to clear it of cobwebs. “Don’t smell me like that again. And to say that that’s all the human experience is would be a lie.”

  “I’ll smell you any time I want. And if that’s not the human condition, then you tell me what is. Make me see the appeal.”

  “I’d need a lifetime to make you understand.” She sighed.

  He grinned. “Lucky for you, you now have one.”

  He’d expected at some point for her to tire of his holding her, but she must have been truly exhausted because she simply snuggled deeper into the shelter of his arms, looking around at the hilly green landscape. Stepping around a dense shrub, he jerked to the side when a pair of pheasants were startled into flight.

  Frenzy liked her in his arms. He wondered if she was aware that his heart beat faster when she was near him.

  “The beauty of our short lives is that we’re grateful for every second of them. How can you truly feel gratitude at the beauty of a sunny day, or hearing that your grandmother beat breast cancer, or seeing a baby’s first smile, first steps…unless you know that each and every one of those moments are gifts? Treasures to cherish? How can overcoming the odds bring any kind of jubilation when the possibility of tragedy isn’t present?”

  He frowned. “That does not make sense to me. I am not mortal. But I have enjoyed my life.”

  She shrugged. “Have you really? Or are you just saying that? Think about it, Frenzy, when was the last time you laughed? Cried? Showed any kind of emotion?”

  Her look was pointed. Taking the challenge, he thought back on his long life. He’d laughed plenty. He’d even loved once. She had no clue of what she spoke, but when he tried to remember the situations, an unsavory truth began to dawn on him.