Coleen: Forever (Waking Forever Series Book 5)

by Heather McVea

  Coleen had moved so quickly when she snapped Alex’s wrist that to the naked eye it appeared she hadn’t moved at all. “I can’t imagine, but she looks like she’s in pain. Perhaps you should take her to the hospital.”

  The crowd around the three women stood in dumbfounded silence as Caitlin wrapped her arm around a still stunned Alex. “Come on. Let’s get to the car.” Unable to speak, and with tears streaming down her face, Alex managed to nod.

  “You should head out too.” The bartender looked at Coleen.

  “With pleasure.” Coleen wound her way through the crowd, and out into the night.

  Arriving back at her car, Coleen stood with her keys in hand. “Son of a bitch.” The vampire muttered to herself. Just behind the driver’s door was a large dent she could only assume came from the oversized pick-up truck parked next to her. Evidently it took too much effort for the passenger to not open their door into the side of Coleen’s car.

  Concluding the lesbian bar scene in San Antonio was lacking on more levels than she could stomach, Coleen drove away from Sparks Exchange, resigned to approach her current dilemma from a new angle.

  ***

  “You went to the library?” Rachel sat down at her dining room table, a bottle of Glenlivet 18 in her hand.

  Coleen sat across the table from Rachel and Sara with an empty glass in front of her. “How are you enjoying the Ranger Creek rye, Sara?”

  Sara looked up. She had been reading through a stack of contracts, and only partially listening to Rachel and Coleen’s exchange. “Oh, it’s wonderful. Thank you again.” She smiled, and glanced up at Rachel. The two women had been surprised when Coleen arrived, unannounced, on their doorstep.

  “Coleen? The library?” Rachel poured a generous amount of the whisky into Coleen’s glass.

  “Okay, yes, I went to the library.” Coleen lifted the glass. “And you will no doubt relish the utter failure of my efforts.”

  Rachel shook her head, a smirk on her perfect lips. “Not at all. I just don’t understand why you thought a library was a good place to meet women.”

  Sara’s head popped up. “I’m sorry. What are we talking about?”

  Coleen looked exasperated as she downed the entirety of her whisky. “Nothing. Go back to whatever it is you’re doing.” Coleen waved her hand at Sara.

  Sara slid the papers to the side, and focused her attention on Coleen and Rachel. “Not a chance.”

  Coleen’s piercing blue eyes pleaded with Rachel. “Let’s skip this.”

  Rachel chuckled. “I can’t, Coleen. It’s just too damn funny.”

  Sara rested her elbows on the table, and leaned forward. “What’s happened?”

  With Coleen sitting stubbornly silent, and looking like a petulant child, Rachel cleared her throat. “Coleen is considering taking another companion, and is having some difficulty – ah, finding the right venue for her courting.”

  Sara’s brow arched. “You went to the library to get a date?”

  “I can appreciate how it must sound, but when you stop to think about, the library makes perfect sense.” Coleen looked back and forth between Sara and Rachel. Confused expressions covered both women’s faces as they sat silently staring at Coleen.

  Coleen narrowed her eyes. “Smart women go to the library. Women that read go there, and one could conclude they’d be more open-minded.”

  Sara took a drink of her rye, chewing on the ice before speaking. “Was this the central branch downtown?”

  Coleen practically hung her head. “Yes.”

  Sara winced as she looked at a confused Rachel. “Right, so the central branch is lovely – architecturally speaking – but it does attract a good portion of the city’s homeless, who go there in the summer for the air conditioner and the winter for the heat.”

  Rachel exhaled through pursed lips. “Oops.”

  Coleen quickly got up from the table. “This has been charming, but I really must go.”

  “Don’t be that way, Coleen. Please, stay.” Rachel stood, but in spite of the sincerity of her words, she couldn’t wipe the smirk off her face.

  “Sara, welcome back.” Coleen turned to Rachel. “Good night.”

  Coleen was out the front door in a split second, leaving Sara and Rachel sitting at their dining room table. Sara looked at Rachel, and a moment later both women broke into uncontrollable laughter.

  “I was never fantastic at dating, but the library?” Sara was laughing so hard, blood stained tears rolled down her cheeks.

  “You missed the part about the lesbian dive bar.” Rachel could barely speak she was laughing so hard.

  A new wave of laughter came from Sara. “Oh, shit. That must be one hell of a story.”

  Coleen sat in her car, her hands clutching the leather steering wheel. She could hear Rachel and Sara as if she were still sitting in the room with them. She wanted to be furious at them for mocking her, and taking such pleasure in her humiliation, but she could barely stand herself these days.

  She had spent the better part of the past two weeks in bars, clubs, and yes, the library, without meeting even one viable candidate. She was a nearly three thousand year old vampire who couldn’t get a date, and she couldn’t think of anything more tragic.

  ***

  Coleen had left Rachel and Sara’s feeling the almost overwhelming urge to kill something. Deciding the best outlet for her frustrations was hunting, she drove her car thirty miles north of San Antonio. Confident she was far enough into the Hill Country, Coleen pulled the Mercedes into a rest stop, and got out.

  Looking up at the night sky, Coleen saw the city lights had faded. To her vampire eyes, the sky was a perfect and brilliant blanket of stars. Toward the eastern horizon, Coleen could see the vivid dashes and trails of a meteor shower.

  After taking off her heels and tossing them in the trunk of her car, Coleen jogged several hundred yards into the wilderness. Then she suddenly broke into a full run. Reaching speeds of nearly fifty miles an hour, the vampire wove her way seamlessly through the low lying blackjack oak trees, and up onto a rock ledge overlooking a dry creek bed.

  Tilting her head up, Coleen took a deep breath in through her nose. Smelling the distinctive musk of a mountain lion, she began to sprint toward the west, and the steady beating of the animal’s heart. Less than a hundred yards from her prey, Coleen suddenly stopped.

  Turning her head to the left, she breathed in again through her nose. The pungent smell of motor oil and gas enveloped her. Another smell found its way to the back of Coleen’s throat, and a faint burning began spreading across her neck and chest.

  The familiar scent of human blood mixed with sweat tickled Coleen’s nose, and drove her away from the mountain lion and toward the intoxicating smell. As she neared the source of the smell, another blood scent enveloped her. She had hunted and killed enough stags in her life to recognize the putrid, rotten smell of a dead one.

  Coleen stopped at the edge of a narrow two lane road. In spite of the darkness, she could see the dead stag lying near the opposite shoulder of the road. The faint scent of burnt rubber joined the myriad of smells washing over Coleen. It was then that she saw the skid marks. In a single leap, Coleen cleared the road and crouched near the shoulder.

  Looking down the steep incline, Coleen saw a car resting on its passenger side. Dropping down, Coleen moved smoothly around the vehicle on all fours. The driver’s face was obscured by the now deflated airbag, but given the traces of lilac and citrus emanating from the person, Coleen assumed it was a woman. Her heartbeat was slow and irregular.

  Coleen had enough distractions at present without becoming involved with rescuing an injured human. She stood, and resigned to leaving the driver to her fate, meant to leap back to the roadside. Then the scents of chocolate chip cookies and bubble gum scented shampoo wafted over her.

  Walking back toward the car, Coleen punched her right fist through the car’s roof, peeling the metal back until she could see clearly into the passenger side of t
he vehicle. Her eyes widened as she made out the shape of a child, wedged between the bottom of the dashboard and the floor of the car. The remnants of his seatbelt were wrapped around his chest.

  As best Coleen could tell, the boy was ten years old, and by the stillness of his heart, he was already dead. With a single flick of her hand, the car was righted, and Coleen forced the mangled passenger door open. Effortlessly she lifted the dashboard up, freeing the boy.

  The lifeless child rolled until his head and shoulders were dangling from the side of the car. Coleen felt something like an ache in her chest as she knelt down next to the boy. She carefully lifted the child up into her arms, and laid him on the ground.

  Coleen placed her hand on the boy’s forehead. She was surprised it was still warm. Tearing the boy’s t-shirt open, carefully began chest compressions while alternately breathing into the boy’s mouth.

  What are you doing?! Coleen’s usual voice of reason and indifference shouted at her. He’s dead, and she will be soon – leave them! Don’t get involved!

  There was an immense need to save the boy welling up in Coleen, and it choked out the millennia of cynicism and selfishness that had pervaded her decision making. She was determined the child would not die.

  Thump… thump…thump.

  Coleen stopped breathing into the boy’s mouth. She turned her head, listened to the steady beat of the boy’s heart. Blood was flowing through the boy’s body again, and Coleen seized the opportunity. Running her thumb nail up her forearm, she opened her vein. A second later her life giving blood was flowing into the child’s open mouth.

  His heartbeat became stronger, and his breathing less labored as Coleen’s blood began to heal his internal wounds. Confident the boy would not die, Coleen stood up, the cut on her arm already healing. She turned to run, having decided she would find a phone and call for assistance, but then she stopped.

  “Mommy?” The boy’s voice was weak, and to a human ear practically inaudible. For Coleen, though, the single utterance shot through her like a bolt of electricity.

  Sinking to her knees, Coleen was drowning in a flood of memories and emotions she had not experienced in nearly three thousand years. Clutching her stomach, the vampire fell forward, her sobs filling the night.

  Chapter 3

  “Mommy, are we taking the garden with us?” Gamil, a slight, dark haired boy of ten, flung his arms around his mother’s waist.

  “Silly boy. How would we do that?” Kullaa, her thick dark brown haired pulled back in a long braid, held her son to her. “It belongs to Ninmah, the earth. Not us.” She looked around the sprawling oasis. The green grass, fig and palm trees, along with the ornate aqueducts that kept the garden irrigated, belied the arid dessert that surrounded the city of Babylon.

  Gamil leaned away from his mother. “Grandma said we could make a new one when we arrive in Ur.”

  Kullaa laughed. “Then we will. Your grandmother is never wrong. Just ask her.”

  “Ask me what?” Gula-Anatu was only fifteen years older than her daughter-in-law. Her skin was a rich, flawless bronze that accented her dark brown eyes. Always mindful of her position as the king’s mother, Gula was wearing flowing linen robes, and her thick brown hair was held off her face with two gold clips. Her neck was adorned with a wide choker made of ivory beads with inlaid lapis pendants.

  “I was telling Gamil that if you’ve promised him a garden, then he shall have one.” Kullaa extended her hand toward Gula.

  Looking down at her daughter-in-law’s hand, Gula frowned. “Why do you insist on dressing like a peasant?”

  Kullaa quickly pulled her hand back. “I hardly think a peasant would have access to linen and silk robes.”

  Gula looked at Gamil. “Go find your nurse. She’s waiting for you, and see that you follow her instructions when getting ready for our journey.” Without a word, Gamil ran from the garden, leaving the two women alone.

  Gula reached for Kullaa, and pulled her into her arms. “You are beautiful regardless of what you wear, but today we will be paraded through the streets of the city.” The woman looked down. “It will be very difficult for Gamil-Sin.” Tears filled her eyes as she spoke. “My son is proud, and this exile will mean his ruin.”

  Kullaa took Gula’s face in her hands, and placed a light kiss on her lips. “Your son – my husband - has agreed to this.”

  Gula shook her head and stepped away from Kullaa. “What choice did he have? Now that the Assyrians and their bastard king have decided to take this city back, Gamil-Sin has been usurped as its vassal king.” She wiped at tears as they ran down her face. “You know nothing of the difficulties he has faced. His shame.”

  “How can you say that to me, Gula?” Kullaa turned her back to the woman. “You know what the first few years with Gamil-Sin were like for me.”

  Kullaa did know something of a king’s shame. She had been contracted into marriage to Gamil-Sin when she was nineteen. Her father, King Nabu-Mukin-Zeri, was also a proud man, and had believed the marriage of the two families would secure his place as King of Babylon.

  But Gamil-Sin had immediately betrayed Kullaa’s father, and fallen into line with the occupying Assyrian King Tiglath-Pileser. Within a year of her marriage, her father had died, and she was pregnant with Gamil-Sin’s son.

  Kullaa had grown up in the palace, and when her father told her she was to be married to the son of a wealthy merchant and land owner, she thought only of her duty to her family. Within six months of her marriage, however, Kullaa’s father grew ill and died.

  Her mother had died in childbirth, and with no siblings, Kullaa found herself utterly alone, a stranger in her own home. The comfort she took from Gula and her love had sustained her. Then when her son was born, she had finally found purpose in being a mother.

  Gula’s hands were on Kullaa’s waist, pulling her from the memories of her painful past as she turned her around. Gula pressed her lips firmly to her daughter-in-law’s. Kullaa clung to the woman, her heart pounding with excitement at the feelings Gula’s touch evoked in her.

  Gula’s lips hovered near Kullaa’s. “You smell of jasmine.”

  Kullaa smiled, and laid her head on Gula’s shoulder. “I had a cool bath this morning, and imagined you with me.”

  Without a word, Gula pulled Kullaa toward a stone bench that sat under one of the fig trees. She ran the tips of her fingers along Kullaa’s smooth cheeks, and across her full lips. “Things will be changing for us. In Ur we will no longer have the privacy the palace affords us. The compound is half this size, and most of our servants will not be coming with us.”

  Kullaa ran the tip of her tongue across Gula’s finger. “We’ll still be together, though. Gamil and you are all that matter to me.”

  Gula entwined her fingers in Kullaa’s dark brown tresses, and pulled her head back. “I was told you are taking Shala as your servant.”

  Kullaa’s eyes widened. “Yes. She has been with me since we were both children.”

  Gula tightened her grip on Kullaa’s hair. “You can use my servant.”

  Kullaa turned her head, and wrapped her fingers around Gula’s wrist. “Please tell me you aren’t still imagining there is any love between Shala and me, other than one of sisters.”

  Gula released Kullaa. “I am only thinking of what is practical.”

  Kullaa stood. “I need familiar things around me right now.”

  Gula smirked. “I thought Gamil and I were enough.”

  Kullaa sat back down on the bench, and took Gula’s hand in hers. She needed to reassure her lover, but she also wanted to be true to her feelings for her oldest friend, Shala. “I love you. Are the words, and every time I touch you, not enough to convince you of that?”

  Before Gula could answer, Shala appeared in the garden. She wore a heavier, more coarse robe than either Gula or Kullaa. Her long black hair was braided down her back, and except for a thin bronze bracelet, she wore no jewelry.

  “Excuse me, but we are ready to depart.
”

  “Thank you.” Kullaa smiled at the woman. “Is Gamil ready?”

  Shala, her eyes averted, nodded.

  “Go. We will be in shortly.” Gula spoke harshly, dismissively waving her hand toward Shala. Not looking up, Shala quickly left the garden.

  Kullaa hated how Gula treated Shala, but did not think an argument was going to help move them through what was certain to be an exhausting day. “I’ll see you shortly?”

  Gula nodded. “Gamil must walk alongside his father during the procession. You and I will walk behind Gamil-Sin’s advisors. Once we are past the temple, Gamil, you, and I will continue in the same boat down the Euphrates to Ur.”

  Kullaa nodded, and leaned in as Gula kissed her on the cheek. She watched as her mother-in-law hurried from the garden. Alone for the first time in days, Kullaa sat down on the stone bench. She had struggled since being told of her family’s fate. For her son’s sake, she wanted to make room in her heart for the changes they faced, and embrace the unknown as an opportunity to move beyond the restrictions of the palace.

  “There is nothing for you to do.” Gamil-Sin had asserted weeks before. He was in Kullaa’s chambers for their monthly coupling, his chest already bare as he began removing the linen cloth from around his waist. “I was not asked, but rather told what would become of me.” He stood naked, his body toned and tan from years of military training.

  “Why do we have to leave the city altogether?” Kullaa stood behind an ornate wooden screen, as Shala carefully removed her robes.

  “Because the Assyrians are cowards, and fear I will overthrow their bastard king!” Gamil-Sin stood at the foot of Kullaa’s bed running his fingers through the thick beard that covered his face and neck. “They do not know the influence I hold in the temples. It does not matter where they send me, I will return and take back this city!”

  Kullaa emerged from behind the wooden screen. She kept her eyes averted as she laid herself out on the bed. The cotton and silk sheets rubbed against her bare skin, and she felt a stirring in her stomach as her husband knelt between her legs.