Inescapable (Eternelles: The Beginning, Book 1)

by Natalie G. Owens

  “That come what may, you’ll come back in a week max, and have a good talk with your mother. No fights. I’ll referee, if you wish.”

  Dear, dear Fiona. “A week. That’s a deal,” she replied, not feeling the least enthusiastic about the idea, but Fiona deserved an effort. “And I’ll try to make peace. Even pigs can fly in Shadow Bridge, I suppose.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Adri stepped out of her car and sighed when the Lamborghini Gallardo drew up and stopped behind her in the courtyard of the castle.

  “You didn’t have to come check on me,” she told Sebastian as he emerged from the vehicle.

  Merde, that had come out too harsh. She closed her eyes for a second then blinked at him. “Sorry. I didn’t mean it that way.”

  Far from her to apologize to all and sundry, but she could recognize when she was out of bounds. She sighed again. The fight with Sera.... No, she wouldn’t think of that.

  “I was worried about you,” Sebastian said softly as he drew close and stopped a few inches from her.

  She reached out and touched his cheek. “I know you were.”

  “What if something had happened?”

  “Like what?” She chuckled. “Chéri, I’m immortal, you remember?”

  He lowered his gaze. “I know, but....”

  When he shuffled his feet, she grabbed his hand and closed it between both her palms. Images from inside his head flooded her mind.

  He retrieved his fingers as if singed, eyes wide when he stared at her. “I didn’t mean that, Miss Adri. I’m sorry.”

  “It’s okay,” she reassured him. He had a right to ask, especially after what just went down at his club. “It’s not shouted on all rooftops, but it’s no secret either that I have been a courtesan for many centuries.” She shrugged. “A whore, as my daughter pointed out.”

  “No, that’s not true.”

  She crossed her arms across her chest and cocked her right hip against the hood of her Mercedes. A hint of a smile tickled her lips. “So now you doubt my word?”

  Sebastian squirmed. “It’s not that, but courtesans weren’t whores.”

  She quirked an eyebrow. How accurate were his history lessons? She’d find out if she let him talk.

  “It’s only in the recent centuries that the profession of courtesan has been reduced to the definition of selling one’s body for material comfort,” he started. “In times past, courtesans were some of the highest-ranked courtiers in kings’ entourages; women who not only possessed social grace and outward beauty but also a good deal of intellectual knowledge. They were known as enhancements to any man, and not just a sexual plaything.”

  She nodded. “True. Sometimes, sex was not even part of the requirements.”

  “So why do you let a mention of that word bring you down?” he asked.

  “I don’t.” Except when it’s flung back at me by my own daughter.

  “Miss Adri, you are an amazing woman. What you’ve done for me and my nest, and for all of the inhabitants of this town—”

  “You’re gonna make me cry now,” she chided. But tears already stung her eyes, and she blinked to ward them off. “I’m fine, Sebastian. Don’t worry about me. You have clubs to run, if I may remind you.”

  A subtle dismissal, and he picked up the message. He nodded.

  “Look after yourself. You shouldn’t be alone tonight.”

  She knew of no one she wanted near her right then, so alone was the best deal. Unless... No. No point going there. “I’ll wait up for Sera. She might come around later.”

  She always comes around. Usually. Why did something inside her heart tell her that there was no “usually” about tonight?

  “G’nite, Miss Adri.” Sebastian hopped back into his car and reversed out of the driveway.

  Once he’d left the property, she went into the house.

  Her footsteps echoed on the Italian marble flooring, the sound hollow as it rocked across the cavernous lobby and lost itself in the many darkened hallways opening off the landings to the various floors. An aura of loneliness hung in the air, something that wrapped itself around her heart and squeezed. Not one sound could be heard from the interior; as if, with Sera gone, the house had lost its soul.

  Adri hastened her step. She needed a refuge, and where better than her Petit Palais? The oppressive atmosphere in the castle preyed on her frayed nerves, and she refused to contemplate spending the night alone in that dwelling. Yes, other people lived in the wings and turrets of the abode, but none in her part of the living quarters. Except for Sera....

  Where was she? Adri hadn’t waited to see what her daughter would do after leaving the club. For all she knew, Sera was still in that lounge, wrapping herself all over Harcourt again. That treacherous bastard. Even as a baby, she had seen an unholy light burn in his eyes. If she had known back then that Eleanore Harcourt’s son would’ve turned the world of her daughter upside down, she would’ve done something—anything—to protect her child from his obsessive clutches. Yet, how could she have fathomed that the embodiment of gentleness that was Eleanore wouldn’t be able to have a good grasp on her wayward son?

  Questions for another time; she filed them away as she stepped into her sanctuary and closed the door behind her. A gust of wind blew around her before the panel closed, and she turned to glance through the darkened interior.

  Nothing stirred save for the flimsy curtains that drifted lazily from an opened window at the end of the conservatory. A nip of cold hung in the air, and she stalked to the window to close the panel. A dash of moisture hovered on the wind, heralding the arrival of rain soon. One more thing to destabilize her; she still had no clue about Dionysos’ whereabouts and any body of water could prove treacherous before she found out what he was after.

  Adri shut the window, ditched her shoes, and lit some candles around the rooms. Their soft light banished the darkest shadows and the interior glowed with a soothing radiance.

  Too bad that balm couldn’t extend onto her heart. She closed her eyes. What had come over Sera? Her daughter loved to snipe and chide, but tonight, she’d gone one step further, crossed a line she’d always been wary of in the past. How had things exploded into their face like this? Sera had held her responsible for her turning; a part of her reckoned that. But all that animosity?

  A sobering thought flittered in her mind. She, too, held her parent responsible for her plight. Zeus—because of him, she’d become the woman she was today.

  Her heart clutched. Was it that easy for children to put the blame squarely on their parents, and think they never had a hand in the way their own fate played out?

  Weariness crashed over her, and her shoulders sagged. Tears prickled her eyes and she didn’t blink them away, too tired to fight. The salty liquid coursed down her cheeks.

  She didn’t know for how long she stood there, arms limp at her sides. When she came to, a thought chased its way into her mind. If only I weren’t alone....

  She was, though. Today, even Sera had turned her back on her.

  The solitude in which she’d lived her life for centuries before she found her baby girl rushed forth to engulf her in a cloud of darkness and despair. A sob tore from her lips.

  She pulled her thoughts to the forefront of her mind, and like she had done after leaving Mother May’s house, sent her perception out to pinpoint where Sera could be. Nothing but a black void stared back at her.

  No, nothing has happened. She was simply overwrought. That power was still sketchy and she couldn’t—shouldn’t—trust it.

  But if something had occurred....

  “Adri,” a soft voice said.

  She stood straighter. No, it couldn’t be.... She had to be dreaming.

  When his strong, warm arms closed around her and he pulled her back flush against his chest, the illusion of a dream shattered. This was reality; he was here.

  “Des,” she moaned.

  “Shh,” he cooed in her ear.

  His warmth wrapped around her, e
nclosing her in a cocoon of peaceful contentment. He pressed a kiss against her hair, before he lowered his cheek onto the top of her head. His embrace tightened, only just enough for her to know in every cell of her being that he had her back, that he was there for her.

  Like he’d been all along. If there existed one person who knew her better than she did, Des was probably that man.

  His comfort soothed as much as it tore the patch over her heart where she had tried to keep her worry and other emotions for her daughter under control. Nestled in his arms, the dam burst, and her legs gave up under her.

  “Easy,” he said as he held her tighter. He coaxed one arm under her knees and lifted her in his arms, to carry her toward the bed in the other room.

  The gentleness in his moves, and the caring he extended to her, destroyed the last of her composure and she gave in to the tears, sobs racking her body as she cried.

  He placed her on the bed, and snuggled in behind her to tuck her against his body. The ease of being in his arms, inside a protective bubble, drew itself over her. Before she knew it, the words were spilling out.

  “She left, Des.”

  “Hush. She’ll be back. She’s as much your daughter as you are her mother.” He reached out and gently pulled wayward locks of hair from her cheek, to tuck them behind her ear.

  “She hates me.” The sound came out muffled against the fluffy down pillow.

  He chuckled. “No, she doesn’t. She thinks she does, but it’s not hate.”

  Adri forced in a deep breath. In for a penny; in for a pound. “You think I did wrong that night? When I turned her?”

  He started playing with her hair, slowly untangling the knots in their lengths. “You didn’t turn her, Adri. Harcourt did. And you did what every parent in their right mind would do.”

  Something like conviction thrummed in his voice. A part of her wanted to turn around and face him, see the emotions playing on his face. But she was also afraid. If she moved, would this moment be lost? So she took the coward’s route and simply pressed her cheek into the pillow.

  “She’s one hundred and twenty-four years old. Why does she still behave like a teenager?”

  He chuckled. The sound rumbled from his chest, every nuance of the movement from his muscles registering against her back.

  “She was twenty-four when she was turned. That explains it.”

  “But she never was given to tantrums and such spoilt behavior.”

  “It’s the turning that did this to her. Vampyre transformation brings out the worst in a person’s temperament to the fore.”

  Adri snorted. So should she be relieved that the most horrific her daughter had indulged in was some sniping remarks that had cut through muscle and bone to reach her heart?

  “I lost her that night.” The whisper tore from her lips as she faced the realization she had refused to acknowledge for a century.

  “No, you didn’t.” He pressed a soft kiss against the shell of her ear.

  Silence settled. For a long time, they remained in that spooning embrace. Adri couldn’t believe it when her eyes started to feel heavy. How could she even think of sleep when her daughter was out there facing God knew what sort of danger?

  “Shh,” he mumbled in her ear. “Sleep.”

  He ran a hand over her face, and before she knew it, she had sunk into oblivion.

  *****

  She awoke to the feel of someone watching her. Adri turned and stretched slightly. Strange how she felt no kink or ache in her body. That bed was dangerously soft, and not made for actual sleeping during long periods. She loved the feel of sinking in its downy depths, exactly like in her rooms in Italy right before the Renaissance. Experience had taught her a harder mattress was the best friend of a weary back, though, and not down-filled bedding.

  But, yes—eyes watching her. How come this didn’t feel disturbing?

  She blinked her eyelids open, and stifled a gasp at the sight beside her.

  How could she have forgotten he’d brought her to this bed?

  Her heart fluttered at knowing he hadn’t left as stealthily as he’d come.

  She allowed her eyes to take in their fill of him. Des lay on his left side, elbow propped up and his head cradled in his opened palm. His dark blue gaze lay on her, and a small, mischievous smile graced his perfect mouth.

  So beautiful.... What else could he be except a creature that led to perdition? She shifted slightly. She shouldn’t forget he was a demon, or at least, part demon, and part who-knew-what, since he himself had confessed he was the only one of his kind.

  “I knew that would be creepy,” he said on a soft laugh.

  She forced her dry mouth to form a word. “What would be creepy?”

  “Me watching you sleep. Legally, that is.”

  She frowned. What did he mean by that? “Have you been watching me in my sleep before?”

  “No.” He placed his right hand on his chest. “Cross my heart and hope to die.”

  She couldn’t keep herself from laughing at the feigned innocence in those words. Adri settled her gaze on him, and everything inside her grew serious.

  He was good for her. What did that say about her character, if a demon could make her feel good about herself, could chase the gloom from her life with just his uplifting presence?

  Screwed—that’s what she was. But then, she’d always known that.

  When Des reached out and rubbed the pad of his thumb along her cheekbone, she didn’t conceal the sigh that escaped her lips.

  She gasped. He shouldn’t look at her that way, as if she were something precious and fragile and worthy of being treasured. Over her long existence, she’d done so much she wasn’t proud of, so many things most would term questionable or downright wrong.

  She’d been no angel. Just a woman forced to make certain choices after being thrust into circumstances beyond her ken.

  “You are precious,” he murmured as he stopped his thumb on her cheekbone and unfurled his palm onto the side of her face.

  Adri blinked. Had he just read her thoughts? The warmth of his touch flowed into her, igniting her bloodstream. God, she wanted him, had craved him ever since that evening in Jerusalem....

  Could he really read her mind? Kiss me. She formed the thought.

  His gaze darkened, eyes growing hooded.

  She hitched in a breath. He had heard her....

  Des drew closer and settled his lips atop hers. Fire burst inside her body, and she yielded to his kiss, melted into his dominant compulsion as he teased her with his tongue before he plunged into her mouth and seared her heart with the sense of complete communion she achieved upon that single kiss.

  She responded in kind, arching her body against his, seeking more of his heat, more of him. Hands travelled across the thin cotton of his T-shirt, over the sinew of well-defined muscles, to come rest atop solid shoulders. With her tongue, she reached for his, tangling, dueling, before abandoning herself to the drugging taste of him. He tasted of ambrosia, sweet and heady, intoxicating. He reminded her of hydromel she had drunk in the far reaches of Norse territory, of honey from sun-drenched valleys in France, of sumptuous wine from the terraced vines of South Africa.

  Adri moaned into his mouth, and he tore himself from her. The loss of his kiss left her reeling, and she grabbed his T-shirt before he could move away.

  “Don’t you dare,” she growled on a husky, lust-filled whisper.

  He laughed. “I’m not going anywhere.”

  “Good.”

  She snaked a hand behind his head and tangled her fingers in his hair. The locks brushed against her skin in a caress as smooth as silk. She lost herself in their thickness, and drew him closer so she could kiss him again. Lips met, tongues touched, breaths mingled. Perfection.

  When the tips of his fingers grazed her waist, she broke the kiss. Without her needing to point him in the right direction, he found the tie at the side and undid the wrap dress. He drew onto his knees and reached out for her, his hands br
ushing the silk off her shoulders.

  A hot blush stung her cheeks under the appraising glance he raked over her.

  He toyed with the satin ties holding her decadent lace lingerie in place. “You sure know how to win a man over.”

  Are you a man? She wanted to ask him the question, but now wasn’t the time.

  “Take it off,” she breathed. “Everything.”

  I want to be naked for you. He’d already seen into her life for all those years, seen into her heart and her mind. He should get to see all of her. If not him, then who else should she let in this close to her?

  For the first time in her life, Adri relinquished control. A part of her battled that she shouldn’t offer her complete surrender to a demon—or whatever else he was—but she chose to ignore that nagging little voice. This was Des; that’s all she needed to know.

  She parted her lips when he ran a finger along her skin, upon the underside of her bra. Slowly, ever so deliberately, he took his sweet time to travel his touch all around the flimsy garment, until he reached the tie. With a languid pull, he undid the bow in the valley between her breasts and peeled the lace from her body. His warm breath caressed her breasts, making her nipples pucker, yearning for his touch, for his mouth on them.

  She arched her back, and he wasted no time to rip the scrap of lace that couldn’t even be termed knickers so much it was insubstantial. A whiff of her arousal graced her nostrils.

  Oh, how she desired him.

  Adri wiggled her buttocks on the bed and parted her legs, a subtle invitation for him to reach for her body and play her like a maestro directed an orchestra to burst into perfect harmony.

  He raked that hot gaze over her once more, and she forced herself to not squirm. Merde, but being submissive was tough. “Touch me,” she moaned.

  Without a word, he trailed a hand along her thigh. But he stopped short of contact with her core, making her whimper in protest. He laughed, and lowered his head so he could kiss her.

  Adri had been a courtesan; she’d had countless lovers over the millennia. But none had worked her up with a single kiss like Des did. He did such sinful things to her mouth…what else could he do to her body?