by Mandy Lee
B moved to look down at her with feigned horror. “What? Me, snore? Never!”
They both burst out laughing.
“You’re going to get tickled a lot if you keep glowing like that. Your sigil is so beautiful; it’ll be hard to keep my hands off.” Mara reached back out to touch it gently.
“What?” B glanced down at his chest in confusion. “What the hell?”
He sat up to straddle her legs, reaching down with a shaking hand to touch the shimmering outline of his angelic marking.
“It hasn’t glowed like this since before I fell.” B’s face was full of wonder.
Mara sat up. “What does it mean?” she asked softly.
He shook his head. “I don’t know.” He looked into her eyes and smiled. “But for once I don’t think it could possibly be anything bad.”
Mara leaned forward and wrapped her arms around him, leaning her head on his chest. “agreed.”
B rested comfortably in her arms, revelling in the calm purity of the moment. After a minute his inner bad boy couldn’t resist. He bent his head down to whisper in his ear. “So, do you want to have another go with your golden boy?”
Mara’s chiming laughter was music to his ears as she drew back to swat him playfully on the shoulder.
“I’d love to, but I have a funny feeling the boys in the other room are going to bust in here soon to make sure we’re still alive.” She wiggled out from under him and hopped off the side of the bed to stand naked before him. “Personally, I’d like to run home and have a quick shower and change my clothes before we head off on the next part of our adventure.”
B took one long look at her standing there in the buff in front of him and groaned, falling back on the bed like she’d shot him with an arrow.
“Woman, you’re killing me!” He twisted his head to look at her again. “As soon as we find a cure for Gadreel, we’re going to find a nice quiet place where we can stay in bed for a week...no, a month...maybe a year!”
Mara laughed out loud as she hunted on the floor for her jeans and shirt. “I’m on board with that plan.” She eyed his naked body. “You’ll have a hard time keeping me off you.”
Scrambling toward her on the bed, B grabbed her around the waist, pulling her breasts flush against his chest. “Why don’t I come with you?” He gave her a devilish smile. “We can get your clothes and a shower together…”
Mara gave him a reluctant shove. “Naughty angel. You know as well as I do that if you come with me we’ll get distracted. I only live a couple of blocks away; I’ll be gone forty-five minutes tops.”
He gave her the most pathetic sad little boy face he could muster. “Fine, but hurry.”
Mara grabbed her torn panties off the floor and tossed them at his head. “I’ll be back before you know it. Just imagine me running around the neighborhood commando…that should keep you going for a while,” she said with a wink as she wriggled into her jeans.
B snatched the ruined panties and sighed. “You’re just making it worse.”
A soft knock sounded at the door, and Mara gave B a self-satisfied smile. “I told you someone would be checking on us.”
He slid out of bed and grabbed his pants off the floor. “Yeah, yeah.” Looking up he gave her a quick wink.
Mara stuck out her tongue and turned to open the door a crack to see Sam standing there with the world’s most fake innocent expression.
“Is everything okay in here?” he asked with a smirk.
Mara rolled her eyes and smiled. “Safe to say he’s fully recovered.”
She felt B’s warmth at her back as he reached around her to pull the door fully open.
“Hey, man. How’s our buddy doing?” B asked.
Sam eyed B’s naked torso and Mara’s furtive clothing adjustments. “Better, but not as good as you, I’d bet.” He pointed at the glowing angelic sigil on B’s chest. “What’s going on there?”
B reached up to rub the spot over his heart. “Not sure, but it seems like a good thing.”
“It definitely was for Luc.” Sam smiled. “Sergei found a temporary fix for Gadreel, it’ll give us time to find a permanent solution. He’s finally asleep.”
“That’s fantastic!” Mara exclaimed. “Please tell me that everyone’s getting a bit of rest.”
Sam gave her a crooked smile. “Yeah. We’ve all been passed out on any flat surface we could find.”
Mara did a quick half turn toward B. “I’m going to run back to my place quickly, it'll give you some time to spend with Gadreel.”
Without a second thought, B leaned down and gave her a quick kiss on the lips. “Be careful and come back soon,” he said with a smile.
Mara laughed at the amazed look on Sam’s face as she gave a quick wave and walked through the apartment, glancing at the small gang of snoring angels, and shaking her head in amusement as she went. There was an extra bounce in her step as she made her way down the hallway to the elevators. She rode down to the ground floor in a haze of happiness. B was safe, they’d finally sorted out the issues that were keeping them apart, and it seemed that there was hope for Gadreel’s recovery. The world seemed like a much better place than it had been just a day ago.
Mara stepped out of the apartment building with a happy smile on her face. The cool morning breeze hit her face and ruffled her hair. Regular everyday people were waking up and heading out of their homes on their way to work and school. She passed coffee shops and news vendors opening their stores and booths for the day’s business. The bright morning sun shone off the windows of the tall city buildings and passing cars. Everything seemed so normal. The sun was driving away the darkness of the night before, giving birth to a new day full of possibilities. As she walked, Mara felt like she really was part of this world for the first time in a long time. This was going to be the world’s fastest shower and change of clothes. B was a sexy man who loved her. They’d talked about building a future together, and she finally felt like she’d found her destiny. That was definitely something to hurry back to.
She bounded happily up to the front door of her building, pulling it open, and waiving gaily at the concierge. He tried calling out to her, but she was in too much of a hurry to chat about his cats and his button collection just now. He was a sweet man, but quite long-winded. She skipped the elevator and went straight into the staircase, zipping up to the fifteenth floor at vampire speed. Nobody in the building ever used the stairway, and there weren’t any security cameras to catch her. The air whipping by her face as she turned herself into a blur made her feel free. Stopping on a dime, she opened the door to her floor, slowing down to natural human pace; she made her way to her apartment. Mara was really going to miss this place when she had to move on, which would likely be sooner rather than later. A decade seemed to be the absolute maximum she could stay in one place without stretching the limits of credulity in her age.
Mara went to fit her key in the lock and her smile vanished. The handle was broken and the door swung open with the push of a finger. Things only got worse when she saw the state of her home. Her apartment had been ransacked. She walked into her living room and turned slowly, taking in the destruction that had occurred in her absence — drawers were pulled out and tossed on the floor; papers were strewn everywhere; furniture was broken. Bending down, Mara picked up a broken picture frame. She didn’t get sentimental about decorating her homes, there was no point on the off chance she had to leave quickly, but this picture was important. Turning the frame over, she picked the shards of glass off the photo. Mara and Alex had the picture taken back when cameras had come into vogue. She’d kept it around all these years as a symbol of their lasting friendship. The picture was faded, and she’d always easily explained it away to the odd visitor to her home as a photo of her great-grandmother, but it meant more to her than all the money in her bank account. Sighing, she stood up and placed the frame back on the table. She dropped her house keys down beside it and headed toward her bedroom. Upsetting as this was, the m
ess could be cleaned up later. The first order of business was a shower and fresh clothes.
She opened her bedroom door, expecting more damage, but what she saw was so much worse. This horrible blast from the past still had the same debonair look about him. His hair was styled, he wore a black leather jacket and black jeans; his fashionable shoes were likely the best money could buy. Philippe. He hadn’t changed one bit in the past three centuries. It shouldn’t have surprised her, but being confronted by his timeless appearance was disconcerting nonetheless. After all this time she hadn’t thought she’d ever see him again, yet here he was sitting on her bed with a bemused smile on his face.
“Lady Mary, as I live and breathe.” Philippe raised an eyebrow and shrugged. “Or perhaps not as I live and breathe…it has been a while since I’ve needed to.”
“What the hell are you doing here?” Mara asked, her words coming out in a rush. “How did you find me?”
Philippe laughed as he got to his feet, swaggering slowly toward her. “You’re my child, my creation. I’ve always known where you are."
She shuddered as his smooth accent washed over her. It had changed over the years, but the touch of old French aristocracy was still there. His words seemed to slither around her ears like snakes, the evil behind the voice was finally apparent to her with her vampire senses.
“Why are you here now? Why not before?” she asked, unsure if she really wanted to hear the answer, but information was power.
Philippe tapped his chin lightly with his forefinger, his look pensive. “That’s a good question. I guess it’s because you bored me.”
“You weren’t bored the last time we were together. You seemed to quite enjoy using me as your personal juice box.” Disgust laced her voice.
“C'est la vie.” He said with a shrug. "You were a heat of the moment accident...what can I say, it was fun while it lasted."
Deep down she’d always known that this was a cosmic mistake, but the idea of the last three centuries of her existence being unintended was difficult to hear from the horse's mouth. Every person whose life she’d taken, every life she'd saved…none of it was meant to have happened.
“So, you intended to kill me.” she said flatly. “I really was just a meal to you.”
“Oh, no,” Philippe said, taking another step closer as Mara matched him and took a step away. “You were far more than just a meal. It was a game, you see.” He smiled again, his fangs on full display. “Back then the poor were everywhere for the taking, nobody looked for them. The world was a much easier place in which to hide. You were special. I took great pleasure in wooing the rich, feeding off aristocratic blood is much like drinking a glass of fine wine after living on cheap beer.”
“I see.” Mara looked down at the floor. “So, if I was just a fine vintage, why bother with the romance, why try to win my hand?” She raised her eyes, staring daggers at her killer. “Do you just enjoy toying with stupid young girls?”
He licked his lips slowly, as though remembering the taste of her blood. “Of course, that’s part of the fun. But the blood tastes so much better with a hint of despair with the terror. The look in your eyes when you realized that it was your lover — the man you wanted to marry — who was going to be the instrument of your pain and demise. That makes the death taste so much sweeter.”
“You’re a sick psychopath.” Her disgust forced her to look away.
“But, of course!” He stepped toward her again, backing her into a dresser. “What did you expect? But back to your other question…why did I not visit you before?” He placed his finger under her chin and tipped her head back to look into her eyes. “I watched you. You were beautiful to watch. Those green eyes of yours were so full of blood and death; you ripped into your victims with wild abandon. The bodies you left behind were like fine works of art. I thought, for a time anyhow, that I may have finally found my match in you, that perhaps the mistake of your creation was really a blessing from Sheol itself…a mate with a bloodlust that matched my own.”
Mara twisted her head away, the red that swam in his eyes made her physically ill. The idea of being watched while she was feral and violent, while she was at her worst was appalling. She’d dealt with her guilt long ago, she knew that the creature she’d been was not of her own making, but the idea that he’d taken pleasure in her misery, in the blood of others was revolting.
He grasped her chin again, jerking her head back around so she was forced to look at him. “Imagine my disappointment when that milksop, Alexander, arrived and ruined you.” Philippe narrowed his eyes at her. “I couldn’t bear to watch you become a shadow of what you were meant to be. I grew bored watching you as you fed from your victims with mercy and compassion, compensating them for their blood in good deeds and assistance. You disgusted me. You weren’t even worth the effort of killing anymore.”
Philippe released her chin with a shove, turning away from her and walking back across the room to pick something up from her nightstand.
“It seems things have changed now though.” He turned back to her, hiding whatever he’d grabbed in the palm of his hand. “I have to say that I approve of your new acquaintances. Perhaps there’s a way to turn you back into the killer you were meant to be after all.”
Mara frowned in confusion, but before she could utter a word of question, Philippe was flying toward her, his arm outstretched, a syringe in his hand. Spinning at top speed, Mara snatched a decorative knife off the top of her dresser. He’d killed her once, and if he was going to give it another go, she wasn’t going down without a fight. Mara raised her arm and swung with all of her preternatural strength, the knife whizzing through the air in a blur. Suddenly everything stopped. The knife was frozen no more than a millimeter from Philippe’s neck. He just stood there and laughed. Mara tried to force her arm forward but the knife wouldn’t budge. Philippe stood still, holding his arms out to his sides.
“Go on, then. Kill me,” he said.
“Gladly.” Mara stepped forward again, her knife raised.
She thrust her arm forward, driving the knife toward his heart only to have it stop again, the tip resting innocently against the leather of his jacket.
“What the…?”
“I see there are some things you have yet to learn about being a vampire.” He grabbed her wrist and squeezed until her bones ground together and she opened her hand, the knife clattering to the floor. “You can’t kill me.”
“Why the hell not? If anyone on earth needs killing, it’s you.” Mara hissed through clenched teeth.
Philippe twisted her arm around her back, forcing her hand up toward her shoulder blades. They were plastered up against each other; there was no way for her to break his hold.
“I’m your sire, cherie. Vampires are incapable of killing their sires…a law of the magic that sustains us I’m afraid.” Philippe bent his head down and licked up her neck.
Mara shuddered at his touch, the cold wet trail on her skin made her wretch. Philippe brought his free hand up into her field of view. Mara’s eyes widened as she saw the contents of the syringe. The congealed rusty substance was the stuff of vampire nightmares. Dead blood.
“No. No!” Mara shook her head as the needle drew closer.
“Oh, yes.” Philippe smiled menacingly.
Mara struggled in vain, her joints screaming in agony as she tried to break Philippe’s iron grip on her. She closed her eyes in defeat as she felt the tiny pinprick in her neck as the needle found its way home. A slow burn wended its way through her veins as the dead blood entered her body. The paralysis was immediate. Her body went numb; her limbs became useless. She was no more than a life-sized doll. Mara was locked in, awake and aware, but unable to make a move to defend herself or escape.
Philippe shifted his hold on her and hefted her over his shoulder easily, like she weighed no more than the feather from an angel’s wing. He walked her through the apartment to the living room and threw open the window. The room looked out over the back courtya
rd of the building. He swung them out onto the ledge and began to scale the building back down to the ground, his fingers grasping the tiny spaces between the stones with ease. It was time to take his old flame to meet his old friend.
Chapter Thirty
B glanced at Sergei’s wall clock for what must have been the hundredth time in the last fifteen minutes. He’d been fine for the first hour and a half, but now he was downright antsy. She’d said she lived close by and that she’d be right back, but that was three hours ago and she was nowhere to be found. He’d asked Sergei for her mobile number an hour ago, but had discovered that she’d left her phone in the bedroom when he’d followed the sound of her ringtone and found it under their bed. The phone must’ve fallen out of her pocket during their extra-curricular activities earlier. He’d give it another fifteen minutes and then he was heading out to find her.
Sighing, B looked over at his best friend. Gadreel seemed to be a good deal calmer than he’d been earlier, but he was definitely not in a good headspace. It seemed that recent events were proving too much for him to handle, between seeing B captured again, and being injected with demon blood for a second time, he looked like he was ready to snap. B had tried talking to him, but Gadreel had done everything short of leaping off the balcony to avoid him. History was repeating itself for Gadreel, and the dark memories of his past seemed to be rearing their ugly heads again. He’d decided to give his buddy some space for a while so he could wrap his head around what had happened, but the two of them needed to have a serious chat very soon. He had to make Gadreel understand that, though they would never be fully normal...whatever that was, there was a light at the end of the tunnel and a bright future was still possible. Finding Mara and pulling off what must have been a statistically improbable self-rescue had proven that.
The sound of the sliding balcony door shutting drew B’s attention. Sergei had stepped into the apartment and was holding something dark in his hand. B shoved himself back from the breakfast bar and made his way over to Sergei’s side.