A Vampire's Love

by T. L. Humphrey

  Now, Deverell and Marcellus have still enacted their revenge on me, for I had to do what Marina had asked me to do the night of our wedding.

  I killed her.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Marina

  I WAKE UP TO A STONE ceiling looming high above me.

  I blink awake, noting that my arm doesn’t burn like it had before I fell asleep. I splay my hands out beside me. I’m on velvet. I feel the soft texture under my fingertips as I stroke it with my fingertips. A pillow cradles my head, and I reach over my shoulder to touch it. Its fabric is coarse, but the cushion is pliable. I am still lying on the Goth chaise lounge. I’m still in the Goth castle. I sense someone beside me and turn my face. There is love in his eyes, even as it’s echoed in my own. My hand reaches for his face, but Shen places a goblet in it. I stare at and smell the blood.

  I’m thirsty.

  Blake assists me in sitting up, and I drink greedily. I drain the glass, and Shen takes it from me. I feel—renewed—in so many ways. Blake is kneeling before me, and we meet each other’s eyes, sinking into each other. I rest my hand against his face, and he leans into it. I watch him close his eyes to my touch, and I know that I need to say it.

  “I love you, Blake,” I whisper. I hear a happy ‘oh-ooh!’ in the corner.

  I smile even as Blake does, and he looks over his shoulder. “Privacy, please.”

  I hear shuffling, and then we’re alone. “I do,” I reassure him. “I think it was Friday night.” I want him to know.

  “I’ve loved you since I first saw you.”

  “I was a child.” Not exactly, but I had certainly acted like it.

  I see so many things now. It’s as if that old self is completely gone. Even the memories that plagued me and would creep into my consciousness are disassociated. I am a new person, and the memories of that life are as if it happened to someone else. I am not that scared person any longer. I have power inside of me, and it pushes the weak human feeling out, leaving a confident new woman. The terrors that I had suffered and faced on my own no longer hold power over me.

  “I wanted to take you with me the moment I laid eyes on you.”

  I straighten my back, hearing his words, and Blake scooches toward me, his hands on my knees. I grasp the sides of his face and lean in to kiss him. It’s soft, quick, and a promise of things to come.

  “Mr. Harland,” Shen’s voice calls out.

  Blake turns his torso to look at Shen. He is staring down at two objects in his hands. He has a frown on his face as he comes to stand before us. Blake rises and helps me to my feet. Resting in Shen’s palm are the two rings that Deverell and Marcellus had been wearing.

  “What is it, Shen?” Blake asks.

  “These are magic. They allow the user to walk in sunlight,” Shen informs us.

  I nod in remembrance. I remember quite a bit now, and it doesn’t frighten me like it used to. “That’s how they got me during the day,” I say and reach for one. The ruby stone glints and I hold it up to view it better.

  Blake takes the blue ring and holds it in much the same manner. “Are you sure, Shen?”

  “Positive. I sense the magic.” His eyes meet mine. “I’m a Warlock.”

  My lips part as I take him in. “But you cook,” which is probably one of the more stupid things to say. Blake chuckles as he continues to study the ring.

  “I am also a world-class chef.” He shrugs. “I do both.”

  I put my hand on my hip. “Are you sure you don’t infuse your food with magic?”

  Shen grins at me, a twinkle in his eye. “Of course not.” He tries to say it as if he affronted, but he fails.

  “I can’t eat your food anymore.” I frown. This is something I will miss.

  “That’s okay,” Brad’s voice calls out. He enters, adjusting the sleeves of a dark blue velvet tuxedo coat. “He can still cook for me.” He stands before us. “How do I look?”

  He is wearing a white frilly shirt underneath the coat. The frills are at his neck and cuffs, peeking out of the tuxedo. He wears black pants and some type of black loafer where the toes angle up slightly. He shakes out his arms and poses for us.

  “Well,” I make a face considering him, “it’s not Last Season.” I grin.

  I stand, and Blake puts his arm around me. “And me?” I ask Brad.

  He considers me, a finger on his lips. “I don’t like the Goth look on you. But at least you don’t have poofy hips.”

  Blake chuckles, and Shen laughs. Blake leans over to me. “Are you ready to leave?”

  Daylight is filtering through the stained glass high above us. I look at the ring, still in my palm. “Yes. I have some loose ends to clean up.” Because I can do this now. I used to dream of exacting my revenge, but I had been too weak as a human.

  Blake goes still. “What type of loose ends?”

  “A person from my past,” I say easily. I’m going to get him. I’m exacting my revenge and... I’m not afraid anymore.

  Brad frowns at me. “Darling, you need to bring Blake.” He leans in, whispering, even though Blake is standing right there. “Let him be the man and help you with your past.”

  Blake bumps him, and I press my teeth into my lips. “Of course.”

  The ring is too big for me, and Blake tells me it will get resized for my finger. He puts a finger under the fabric of my blouse and pulls it a bit, considering it.

  “It’s a nice look on you,” he tells me.

  Brad clears his throat. “Don’t get used to it, darling. It’s so Last Season.”

  I laugh and hold on to Blake as we head for the front door. I put the ring on my middle finger and curl it around the ring to hold it in place. Blake’s ring fits just fine. He reaches for the door to go first, but I hook my arm through his. We are doing this together.

  We step out through the doors. Shen and Brad flank us, and I swear I hear Brad squealing like a little girl as the sun washes over us. Shen taps Blake on the back and bypasses us as we stand like goofballs in the sun, staring at each other. In just over a week, I went from being a basket case wanting to die to someone who thought maybe there was something to live for, to falling into serious like with Blake... to falling into serious love with him.

  Now, I’m here with him, in the sunlight, ready to take my next steps toward our future together, including moving into his suite with him. In fact, I can’t wait for that part. And it excites me; it does not frighten me. I’m a new person and what happened to the old Marina is just that—what happened. It’s the past, and I’m going to take care of one last thing from her past before moving forward with the new Marina.

  “What happens to this castle?” I ask as we head to the Limo.

  “Brad called for it while you were sleeping. He wants a retreat. His own place. I’m going to purchase it for him.” He says it matter of fact and without hesitation.

  I’ll have to get used to that—being able to purchase what I want when I want. We all enter the cab and find our seats. I’m practically in Blake’s lap, and he doesn’t mind one bit. Our ride home is jovial and pleasant, but the next scene is playing out in my head. I will find him and take him out. I hadn’t been able to when I was human. I was powerless, and now I will make sure he is.

  I ride in silence as we head home and lean against Blake, my lifeline. Odd, I think of him this way now, after thinking of him as an end for so long. I look over at Shen and Brad, conversing quietly and discussing food and clothes.

  I DRESS IN BLACK DRESS pants, low heels, and a nice silk blouse. My hair is loose. I wear the crimson ring that has been resized for me and I wear it on my middle finger. I know I look good. Something about being what I am now gives me the confidence I could have only dreamed about before. I gaze around the room—Blake’s room. I moved in the moment we got back and we passed the day in bliss. Even now, I’m ready for him again.

  But, I have business to attend to.

  I exit the home where the Limo waits for me. The chauffeur sets off, and I gl
ance at my phone. I text Blake not to worry about me, but I’m taking care of business today. He calls me immediately. I assure him I am fine, and he says he’s on his way. I know I won’t be able to stop him, and I’m not sure I really want to.

  The Bentley pulls up to the curb. I glance out the window for a moment, taking in the familiar sights. A wall of glass greets the curbside. One harbors the Pawn Shop, the next is the restaurant, and finally, my destination, the laundry mat. When the Limo door is opened for me, I exit gracefully, the sun resting on my exposed skin, warm. I look at the ring once more and smile. A bonus on top of the new life I am now living. I catch movement in the restaurant and see Elayna inside, catering to the few patrons. She’s still there after all these years. Standing just outside the Limo, I study the two businesses that had been such a part of my former life. I catch Elayna staring out the window at me, and I finger wave to her. She smiles and repeats the gesture to me. Then she turns away.

  I peer into the laundry mat and Gianni is looking out, wondering who is here. I only observe one person in his establishment as I saunter over, ensuring he truly sees me. His eyes widen and then relax when he thinks I’m just going to my father’s restaurant. Then I smell the quick spike of fear as I enter the laundry mat. I look at the woman waiting for her clothes and pin her with my eyes. I tell her to leave, and she does so. I walk, or rather—stalk—Gianni and face him, letting the light in my eyes unsettle him. He alternates between looking at me in contempt and then fear. It’s an odd combination of confusion that I make him feel and I enjoy it.

  “Do you recognize me?” I ask softly.

  Now that I am what I am, there is a different projection to the way I walk, the way I move in general. I let the light come into my eyes for a moment. He clears his throat, and I can hear his heart thumping. The artery at his neck jumps and it makes me thirsty. But I won’t drink from him. I will, however, make sure his death lingers for a time. He’s too vile for me to soil my clothes on. Brad would definitely be upset with me. And I do look different. But not so different that he can’t recognize me. However, at my question, he acts as if he will lie, and I raise an eyebrow at him.

  “Y-yes,” it’s a stammer and a whisper at the same time.

  I slowly curve my lips up, loving his fear. It smells good, for one thing. Now I know why Inara and Natalia had been so excited around the old Marina. The thump in his heart is pleasing to hear as well. I smirk at him, holding him still with my eyes.

  “Do you remember what you did to me?” I let my voice filter through his very soul.

  I’m not giving any quarter on this, nor will I make this easy for him. He acts again as if he will deny it. He is afraid of me, but he’s also not sure why. I was afraid of him, and I had been unsure of why—then I found out why. I’m dragging this out to make sure there is no doubt. After all, he dragged it out for me. I step closer, and he bumps into the wall behind him. He is sweating, shaking, blubbering a bit. I enjoy it as I look at him dispassionately.

  “I had been so young and inexperienced. Innocent. I trusted you not to hurt me. I trusted you to help me that night.” I keep my tone low, melodic—scary.

  I take another step, and he slides against the wall, tears forming, sweat beading on his forehead. Now, under the scent of fear, is the sick stench of body odor. I grimace, ladylike, and press the back of my fingers to my nose. I despise him and wonder if my newfound identity makes me this ruthless or if I was just waiting for the right time.

  Perhaps both.

  I take another step, putting the light in my eyes again, and I recognize the pungent smell of piss. My gaze drops to the stain forming at his crotch and the dribble exiting his pant leg. One eyebrow raises as I smirk at him. He had done much the same to me, but there was so much more blood with it. The physical pain of that day has receded since then, but I remember the helplessness I had. I reach out and grip his throat and tighten. His hands go to my arm, trying to peel it away from his neck. I consider what I really want to do from here when we hear the laundry mat door open.

  “What do you think you are doing?”

  The new voice echoes through the room, and I watch Gianni’s eyes cut to the stranger, seeing the relief in his eyes. I actually feel his body sag a bit, as if this newcomer is his salvation. As if help has arrived.

  “Please!” he croaks out. “Help me!”

  The newcomer comes to stand beside me. “Didn’t I give you a loan once?”

  A smile curves across my lips, and I turn my face to him. “I think, my dear, you’ve given almost every business on this block a loan.” And given that the small strip of buildings is only three businesses, it isn’t difficult to believe.

  I turn my attention back to Gianni. His eyes widen in fear as he realizes this newcomer isn’t here to help him in the least and that I know the man. I watch Gianni’s eyes near bug out, and a smile spreads across my lips once again. I love this power I have. I love making him afraid—like he had done to me all those years ago.

  “So, this the guy who hurt what belongs to me,” Blake’s voice growls.

  The stain on the front of Gianni’s pants darkens once again, and I wonder just how much piss this man has in him. I thrust him away from me in disgust before he ruins my shoes—Brad would not be pleased. He stumbles against the wall and slinks to the floor, crying now, blubbering incoherently. I think I might have even heard a ‘sorry’ in there. If so, it will go unheeded, as it comes much too late. And there is no ‘I’m sorry’ fix for what he has done.

  Blake kisses my cheek. “I do not wish for you to get soiled,” he tells me. “Brad will be cross.”

  “Well, I am in a laundry mat...”

  “Brad would kill us both if you put your clothes into anything but a dry cleaner’s hands.” Blake studies the man huddled on the ground.

  “Probably.” I study my nails. I had them painted red, much to Brad’s dismay. I honestly don’t know why he never dressed me in the color red. It is a magnificent color on me.

  Blake reaches down as Gianni cowers, trying to cover his neck. But Blake grasps the man’s hand and squeezes, breaking Gianni’s hand. The screams echo through the room, and I cringe at the piercing shriek. I watch coldly as Blake hauls the crying man up by his neck. Gianni’s hand hangs limply, and he whimpers.

  “I was thinking of ripping out his throat. I thought maybe it would be labeled a wild dog attack or something. But we are in the city, so it is not so believable,” I muse. “But if you strangle him, someone will think it’s murder,” I tell Blake.

  Blake looks at me over his shoulder. “Oh, the reason I am late. I set him up.”

  Gianni’s eyes widen, and he squeaks a bit. His feet are dangling, and the last of his piss is falling from his shoes. It’s quite the mess on the floor.

  “Set him up?” I sidle up next to my husband and put my hand on his shoulder. “Whatever do you mean?” I love how our conversation frightens and confuses Gianni. I like how we discuss this without a care in the world—as if we are discussing the latest news in a calm, dignified manner.

  “I’m making it look like the mob is after him. Actually, it’s not too far a stretch.” Blake looks at Gianni. “Right, Gianni?”

  “I was going to pay him back,” Gianni croaks out.

  “Too late.” Blake looks at me over his shoulder again. “Don’t be mad, dear. I made a deal with a mob boss.”

  “A deal? You know you should never do things like that. Aside from Werewolves, they are like—third in line.” I shake my head.

  “Don’t let Shen hear you say that.” He regards Gianni once again.

  I shrug and look at Gianni, who has calmed down a bit now that we’ve been bantering back and forth. But his eyes widen again at my perusal. I love this power I have over him. It gives me a sick satisfaction. And a not-so-sick satisfaction. I had been but a girl, powerless, weak. Now, he is.

  “Apparently,” Blake begins, “Gianni made a deal with your father. The loan I gave your father. He turned around
and loaned it to Gianni, trying to profit from the loan I gave him. Gianni used a portion of the loan to pay Mr. Fortini but did not completely pay him off. So, Mr. Fortini realized that Gianni had a large sum of money and called in the loan. Now, Gianni owes not only your father but Mr. Fortini as well.”

  “What a fine mess,” I grumble. “Wait. If I kill Gianni, how is my father going to pay off your loan?”

  Blake’s jaw tightens. “With blood.”

  I put my hand on my husband’s shoulder and stare at the man still being held up in the air for a moment. More pee drips, and Blake releases his grip with a shove. Gianni screams as he lands. His ankle is bent awkwardly, and he scoots back through his mess and up against the wall, clutching his piss-stained ankle and rocking in pain.

  “Mr. Fortini is quite upset.”

  “I can only imagine,” I murmur.

  Blake looks down at Gianni. “Don’t worry.” Blake turns to me. “He said he would take care of it because he has always liked you. I did not realize you spoke to him on our wedding night.”

  “Yes. He congratulated me.”

  Blake smiles at me, leaning in, kissing my lips. “And in return for this favor, he wants immortality.”

  A small smile tugs at my lips. “He knew.”

  “He knows,” Blake corrects.

  “No,” I correct his correct. “He knew back when I was speaking with him. Or at the very least, he suspected. He’s a smart man. He called you an enigma.” I put my hand on my hip. “So, you did this for me?” I grin and kiss his cheek. “I love you.”

  “I love you.”

  The laundry mat door opens, and Blake turns, smiling. “Nico!” Blake has his arms wide and steps into the embrace of the mob boss. I sidle up next to my husband and meet Nico’s eyes. He then hugs and kisses my cheeks as well.

  “My dear, Marina,” he greets warmly, clasping my hand, and I feel how frail he is. I see the pale pallor of his skin and the tissue-like skin on his hands. He looks nothing like he did just over a week ago. I catch a smell of dead flesh and meet his eyes. They are dull. There is no life in them like they used to have, and I realize he is dying. I think he might have cancer.