by Nicole Grane
“Hmm” he thought briefly. “I’d say . . . seven hundred and forty-nine this November.”
“‘Seven-hundred and forty-nine’?” The words stuck in my throat.
He could see my wheels turning, slowly.
“You’re . . .”
“Immortal? Yes,” he admitted flatly. Marcus watched me closely, probably expecting me to crack up again—he wouldn’t be disappointed.
I put my hand on my forehead, trying to steady myself. My mind was on overload. I hadn’t considered he was immortal.
“Perhaps you should lie down again,” he suggested, eyeing me carefully.
“It wasn’t a dream, was it? You’re really a . . . v-vampire?” I stuttered. I looked into his deep brown eyes. Saying it out loud didn’t make it any easier to accept.
“Yes.”
“And I’m . . . was . . .”
He reached out to hold me . . . but hesitated.
I stared at his arms that were half extended to me. Even though the thought of Marcus being an actual vampire was frightening beyond words, I couldn’t stand the distance between us. I closed the gap and let his arms wrap about me.
He brushed his lips across my forehead, sighing contentedly.
I smiled up into his glorious face. He was truly beautiful, and he loved me as much as I loved him. We’d always been meant for each other. Lifetime after lifetime, and now we were together again, with nothing to separate us.
Marcus watched the smile slip off my face. “What is it?” He looked alarmed.
“Was that . . .” I knew the answer before I asked the question. I’d seen those eyes that had watched me through the window before. They were the very eyes that stared into mine before they killed me in my dream. I could feel my pulse begin to quicken. “Damen was here last night, wasn’t he?” The sudden look of rage that claimed him, answered my question. “Damen bit me?”
“Yes.”
Several things occurred to me at once. First, Damen was alive! And if he was as old as Marcus said he was, he would remember the past. If he were to somehow tell Marcus the secret I was hiding from him, Marcus would surely try to kill him. Marcus could die! I could lose him. But was this really my secret to keep?
Second, Damen had killed me. The look in his eyes last night was no different than in my dream: Murderous!
Third, and most disturbing of all, was that Damen had bitten me; and I now shared some of his memories. He would be after me to turn me into a werewolf like him—I was certain of it. He could have me like he wanted so very long ago. I didn’t want to share that information with Marcus either.
“Oh no, is that the time?” I said in a panic, snapping out of my dark thoughts. I stared at the clock wide-eyed. It was 10:45 am. “I gotta hurry! I forgot I’m supposed to meet Kim and Leah for lunch at 11:30!” I abandoned my original choice of attire and rushed to my closet for a dressier outfit.
“Who?” Marcus asked.
“My co-workers. We’re supposed to meet a new client.” I shouted over my shoulder as I dug deeper through my wardrobe. “Do you have anything planned for today?”
“A little hunting trip,” he said darkly. I could almost hear him smiling.
I spun around. “You’re not going after Damen are you?”
“You don’t need to concern yourself Phoebe. I’ll take care of this.” He spoke as if he were going to drop off dry cleaning.
“No! Marcus, you can’t. Just let him go.”
“I like the black one. You always looked good in black,” he mused, his head tilting slightly to the right, as if imagining me in it.
My attention was briefly diverted to the two dresses in my hands. I frowned. He was trying to distract me. “Marcus, please. Don’t go alone. If you have to go, let me come with you, I’m sure . . .”
“NO!”
I nearly fell backward into my closet.
“You’re not to be anywhere near him. Do you understand?” His words were harsh and direct.
“I only thought that if there were two of us—”
He flew at me, stopping anything else I may have said. He held me tightly in front of him so that he had my full attention.
“I don’t want to be in any way unclear about this,” he growled. “You are not to get involved. You can’t fight him. You’ll lose!”
“I could distract him or maybe if you showed me . . .”
“NO!” he hissed. “I never liked you fighting before, and you’re less equipped to do it now.”
I suddenly felt insulted. “What do you mean, less equipped? I know I’m not the most athletic girl, but I’m sure I could fight off a . . .” I couldn’t even believe I was having this conversation. I put my hands on the side of my face, trying to keep my head from exploding. “ . . . werewolf, if my life or yours depended on it.” Besides, I owe him. I thought to myself. He took more than one life that night!
“You wouldn’t last a fraction of a second before he ripped your throat out again,” Marcus said harshly.
My hands were instinctively shielding my neck. He was right, and deep down I knew it. Still, I couldn’t let him go. I felt just as protective of Marcus as he did for me. I lifted my chin high. “I fought them before. With training, I could do it again.” I spoke firmly. I didn’t like being told I couldn’t do something, even if it was for my own good.
Marcus leveled me with an icy stare. “You had over a century of training; you’re not coming with me, and that’s final!”
The clock chimed eleven.
“You’d better get ready; you have less than an hour,” he announced smugly.
I growled mentally. I threw the red dress back in the closet, not even bothering to hang it up, and stomped to the bathroom. I turned around to see Marcus beaming like the Cheshire cat. Foolishly, he thought he’d won.
“This conversation is not over,” I said with authority as I slammed the bathroom door shut.
Chapter 8: New Opportunities
Kim and Leah are going to have a field day when they see me, I thought to myself. Kim would take full advantage of any opportunity to point out that she didn’t cause my injuries this time.
Assessing the damage, I peeled away one of the Band-aids from my knee. “Unbelievable!” I removed a few more, squealing mentally as each one came off.
I opened the bathroom door to find Marcus right where I left him. He still looked irritated.
His expression dissolved almost instantaneously as I stepped out. I was wearing a slender black tank dress that hugged every curve of my body. I looked amazing, and I knew it. I used this to my advantage.
“You’re healed!” he exclaimed.
“Well, all but the gash on my thigh.” I tilted my body as I lifted my dress up my leg a little. “It was a bit deeper, but by tomorrow, I think it will be gone too!” I smiled as I looked from my leg to his face.
He was staring at the pink scratch on my thigh.
“It’s amazing isn’t it?” I asked excitedly, rubbing my finger over the new skin. “Maybe I have super healing powers! That’s going to come in handy. This werewolf thing might not be so bad after all,” I joked.
A soft moan came from his throat as he pulled me to him. I hadn’t even seem him move toward me. His hands gently moved up my back, while his mouth claimed mine. His kiss was so passionate, so heady. It took my breath away—literally.
“Phoebe! Phoebe! Phoebe can you hear me?”
I could faintly hear Marcus's strained voice. I was still in his arms.
“Phoebe!” he called again.
A smile came over my face. I slowly opened my eyes to see relief in his. “If kisses could kill,” I mused.
“Not funny,” he growled disapprovingly. “They can!”
“I didn’t do it on purpose!” I smiled sheepishly. “I forget to breathe when you’re kissing me. But,” I sighed, “it’s a price I’m willing to pay.” I pretended to look put out. I stood up straighter now, still keeping my arms around him. “Would you like to join us for lunch?” I as
ked sweetly as I played with the collar of his shirt. “You can meet my friends . . . we’re having Italian . . .” I drug out each sentence with a sing-song note, trying to make it sound more inviting.
“I don’t think your friends would like to watch me eat,” he joked. “As for me joining them for lunch . . .” he broke off in laughter.
“Marcus!” I was horrified. “You can’t eat my friends! Promise me you won’t eat my friends!” I gripped his shoulders tightly, the thought of it made me instantly sick.
He howled with laughter. “Phoebe, I promise I won’t eat your friends.”
I sighed with relief. Marcus’s diet hadn’t occurred to me. Truth be told, I was avoiding that part of reality.
“What exactly do you eat?” I winced as I asked the obvious out loud.
“It’s more drinking than eating,” he clarified with a smile, still chuckling lightly.
“How often do you . . . drink?” I closed my eyes, cringing as I awaited his answer.
“I can go a week without drinking if I need to,” he said, sounding pleased with himself. “But any longer than that, I start to get weak. In my line of work, being weak isn’t an option.”
“Last night, you said you weren’t hungry because you just ate,” I prompted.
He knew what I wanted to know, but he let me squirm a little.
“Marcus!” I asked impatiently. “Did you . . . kill . . . ” I whispered the word, “ . . . someone last night.” My body suddenly felt flushed. Perhaps ignorance was bliss.
“Phoebe, I am a vampire after all.”
He watched the stunned look on my face then decided to let me off the hook. “Phoebe, I don’t have to hunt people for food.”
“You don’t!” I blurted excitedly.
“No.” His lips curled up into a smile once more. “That was the vampire of old. There are still some who prefer the old ways, but most are able to drink without killing humans now.”
He had my full attention.
“We own most of the blood banks around the world; we don’t need to take it when they give it so willingly.”
“You went to a blood bank last night?”
“No. I keep a small supply with me at all times just in case.”
“So you don’t have to . . . ever?” I was speaking in code now, hoping he would figure out the words I was trying not to say.
He grinned. “I haven’t had to kill a human for many decades now. But if I had to in order to survive . . . ” he paused. “If I were to get too close physically and lose control, or be tempted by a gushing wound, for example,” his eyebrows raised. “You were extremely lucky yesterday.” I could tell by the look in his eyes, he was serious. I couldn’t help but shudder.
“I’d better get going. We’re supposed to meet some guy from abroad that is interested in promoting my designs overseas.” I clapped my hands in excitement.
“You’d better not be late then.”
“How do I look?” I spun myself around—my dress twirling around me.
He caught my hand and held me out at a distance, as he looked me over. His lips were curled up into that infectious smile that made my heart skip.
“Hmm . . . you make it nearly impossible for me to resist you.”
I snorted. “Yeah right. You resist just fine.”
I stared at him for a moment, the smile on my face slowly slipping away as I wondered if I’d ever see him again. I wondered if maybe this had all been a dream, and as soon as I stepped outside, he’d disappear.
Marcus’s fingers gently brushed my cheek, causing millions of goose bumps to run down my arms. I shivered. He was real all right.
As if reading my thoughts, Marcus smiled knowingly at me. “I’ll see you soon. I’ll try and pick up Damen’s trail as quickly as possible.”
“Marcus . . .”
“Phoebe, relax. I’ve been doing this for hundreds of years,” he said casually, trying to dismiss my fears. “I’ll be back as soon as I can; tonight, maybe tomorrow at the latest. It just depends where he leads me.” He stepped closer. His hand reached around the back of my head and gently rubbed the knot that still smarted. I will destroy him this time,” he added darkly. I couldn’t help but shiver once again.
His eyes lightened a little as he took my arm and escorted me out the door.
It was a beautiful day outside. The sun had chased all the clouds away, not one was in sight.
I reached in my purse for my sunglasses.
Marcus was a step ahead of me. He already had his on.
“Hey, aren’t you supposed to hide inside when the sun’s out?” I asked casually as he opened my car door. “Don’t you catch fire or something when the light hits you?”
“Don’t believe all the legends, my love,” his lips were on my neck before I had time to blink; he kissed it softly. “Daylight doesn’t always mean safety,” he grinned as he watched my shaken expression.
“Great!” I smiled flatly, thinking of all the ghouls and monsters that might come running down my street at any moment. “I’ll see you later then?”
“You’ll see me later.” He winked as he shut the car door for me.
I started the engine, waved, and zoomed off. I took one last look in my rear view mirror before I turned the corner—he was already gone.
I arrived at the restaurant with a few minutes to spare. Kim and Leah were already inside waiting for me.
The three of us had been in business together for six years. I designed, Kim helped create the packaging and displays, and Leah took care of all the marketing. We worked well together, a true testament of our friendship.
“Hey Phoebe!” Kim called out when she saw me. I waved and made my way over to our table.
“You look cute,” I complimented. Kim’s wild brown hair was pulled up into a lose ponytail. She wore a bright red sundress that had a bold flower print on it. It hugged her figure, flattering her subtle curves.
“Is he here yet?” I asked as my eyes searched the restaurant.
“No, but he should be here any minute,” Leah said glancing down at her diamond faced watch. Leah was decked out in the usual high-end designer suit. Today she wore a stylish, gray, pin stripe. It was flared at the waist, giving it an elegant cut that accentuated her narrow hips. “He sounds very charming with that accent on the phone!” she gushed.
“What’s his name again?” I asked.
“D. Balfour,” she showed me a note with a name scrawled on it. The writing was very stylish.
“Balfour? What kind of name is that?” Kim asked.
“Scottish, I think . . . ,” Leah said as she stared at the signature again. “He sounded Scottish on the phone.” I could hear that dreamy tone in her voice. Leah was a sucker for a guy with an accent.
“What’s the D stand for?” I wondered aloud.
“I didn’t ask,” she admitted.
“I think he’s here,” Kim whispered as her eyes flickered from Leah to the door.
We both shared Kim’s reaction. It was like Apollo himself had walked in. A shockingly attractive man, with brilliant blue eyes that would shame the ocean, was staring back at the three of us.
My eyes couldn’t help but take in the scenery. His skin was lightly tanned. His hair: shoulder length, golden brown, and neatly combed. It looked softer and healthier than any woman’s I’d ever seen. I couldn’t help but note the muscled chest through his white button up shirt. His sleeves were rolled up partly, almost to the elbow. As for the khaki pants—they were tailored with him in mind. He was immaculate, down to his Italian leather shoes.
I took in a deep breath—I could smell a pleasant musky fragrance about him. Where were these gorgeous men coming from? Were the gods falling from the skies?
His body moved fluidly as he walked over to us.
“Wow,” Leah muttered under her breath.
“Would you be the lovely ladies I have the pleasure of joining for lunch?” he asked with a bow.
Leah stood up quickly and extended her hand.
He took it as he bent over to kiss it softly.
“Mr. Balfour?” Leah’s cheeks were all aglow.
He nodded.
“We spoke on the phone yesterday, I’m Leah Williams, this is Kim Sanders, and our designer—Phoebe Rose.” She now motioned to me.
He kissed Kim’s hand and turned slowly to me. His eyes were piercing. I stared at them, momentarily lost.
“Mr. Balfour,” I found myself blushing.
He paused for a moment as he took my hand. His lips trembled against it. “Interesting fragrance you’re wearing my dear,” he said as his nose wrinkled a little.
“I’m not wearing any perfume,” I admitted awkwardly. Did I stink? I suddenly felt self-conscious.
Kim leaned over and took a subtle whiff. “You do smell good Phoebe.”
Leah shot her a disapproving look.
“I’m sorry if it bothers you. Perhaps you’d be more comfortable sitting across the table?” I suggested as I motioned to an empty chair between Kim and Leah.
“I think I can endure,” he smiled, leaning in closer. “You’re really quite alluring, especially the color on your cheeks.”
I blushed a rare shade of scarlet to be sure.
I was glad the waiter came over to take our order; it diverted everyone’s attention.
“We really do appreciate you taking the time to meet with us Mr. Balfour,” Leah began.
“Not at all Miss Williams, the pleasure is all mine.”
We got acquainted over lunch. Kim told all about our recent trip to England—leaving nothing out.
“You should have seen her,” Kim said as she shoved in another bite.
He glanced casually my way. “How is your arm now?” he asked. His eyes, not connecting completely with mine.
“It’s fine—” I blurted out quickly, “It really wasn’t such a big deal after all.”
“Not a big deal!” Kim continued. “You should have seen the blood.”
I shot Kim a quick look of death—which she ignored. She was too captivated by our guest.
“Did you get a look at the man?” Mr. Balfour asked.