Immortal Wounds: Book #1 in the Immortal Wounds Vampire Series-Paranormal Romance/Vampire Romance/Romantic Fantasy

by Nicole Grane

“Luther said they’re moving this way,” Raymose spoke gruffly.

  Marcus sighed. “They should be here in three days time.”

  “You know they outnumber us.”

  “We’ve been outnumbered before . . . we’ll be fine.” Marcus forced a smile for his friend.

  “Are you going to ask her to come with us?” Raymose jerked his head in the direction of my room. I ducked back, hoping he hadn’t seen me.

  “No!” Marcus hissed.

  “Marcus, she’s good. She could help us. She’s almost as good as she used to be. I’ve never seen anything like it. It’s as if she remembered how to fight. She’s almost the same except—”

  “Except for her not being immortal!” Marcus interrupted angrily. “She’d be killed! She was very nearly killed last night. Had I been a second slower . . .” Marcus turned his head away, hanging it. I could feel the anger emanating from his body.

  “Damen has always been a coward,” Raymose mocked. “It wouldn’t surprise me if while the rest of us are fighting, he’s back here trying to lure her away.”

  “He will not have the opportunity,” Marcus hissed under his breath.

  “Yet . . . he seems to continue to slip through your defenses.” Raymose’s tone had become condescending.

  “What are you saying? That I’m not able to protect her?”

  “I’m saying you were very lucky last night. You cannot command Luther’s army and offer the level of protection she needs. You’re stretched too thin.”

  “What would you have me do?” Marcus growled.

  “Maybe it’s time to tell Luther—”

  “No!”

  “Marcus. He can protect her as you cannot.”

  “No!” Marcus growled. “She’ll be at their mercy. I won’t have her anywhere near another vampire.”

  Raymose shook his head. “Well you can’t leave her here. What if you don’t come back?”

  I clutched my heart, trying to slow its beat. “Yes,” I thought, what if he doesn’t come back?

  “Richard will be with her. I’ve instructed him to take her home.” Marcus looked uneasy. “The further away she is from the fighting, the better.”

  They were silent for a moment.

  “Raymose. If I do not come back . . .” Marcus paused. They looked at one another; it was as if they had a private understanding, an understanding that didn’t need words.

  “You know I will.” Raymose put his hand on Marcus's shoulder.

  “She will need you Raymose. You won’t have the luxury of roaming free. She can’t be alone now, not ever!”

  “She won’t be.” Raymose gave Marcus's shoulder another pat. “I’d prefer not to look after her under those circumstances my friend. You’d better survive. It will kill her to lose you.”

  I couldn’t listen to another word. I quickly composed myself and bounded out the doors happily.

  “Raymose!” I squealed, flashing him the biggest smile I could muster. He picked me up in his arms and twirled me around.

  “Morning sleepyhead!” He laughed. “Oh, sorry, how’s the back?” His smile was as bright as ever. If I hadn’t just been eavesdropping, I wouldn’t have guessed that he’d just pledged to take care of me in Marcus's stead.

  “Pretty good actually; I feel great!”

  I looked over at Marcus. He looked as though he were going to be sick.

  “I’m sorry. Did I interrupt? I saw you both out here . . .” I rushed over to him and hugged him tightly. I buried my face in his chest, trying to compose myself once again.

  “No, Raymose and I were just talking. Did we wake you?” His tone was edgy.

  “No. I just . . . felt hungry. I was going to go down to the kitchen and fix something to eat.”

  “I’ll have Charlotte send something up. You should rest,” he urged. His expression was one of worry. “You still look a little pale to me.”

  “I look pale?” I laughed, grinning at the two of them. “Would anyone care to join me? I was thinking of having breakfast on the patio.”

  “Now that would be interesting,” Raymose joked.

  I shot him a disapproving look that didn’t stay on my face long. “I’ll see you later then?” I asked, looking to Marcus.

  “We’ll be down shortly,” Marcus promised as I kissed him briskly on the cheek and left them to their conversation.

  Sarah brought my breakfast to the patio. I munched on scones and fruit while I waited for Marcus and Raymose. I pondered over the conversation I’d just overheard. Marcus and Raymose were both extremely anxious. Was the war with the werewolves only a few days away? I shivered.

  Whatever it was, Raymose thought I could help. He said I was as good as I used to be—or almost as good. Did he want me to fight with them? That would never happen. No way Marcus would allow that, especially now. I had to admit, I was less than confident in my abilities myself. But if I could help them somehow . . .

  I finished my breakfast and decided to walk down to the horse stables. Rain always made me feel better. He neighed loudly when he saw me come in.

  “I don’t think we’re going to practice today boy.” I rubbed his neck affectionately.

  He started bucking his hind legs. I jumped out of his way as a hoof broke one of the boards on his stall door.

  “Damn it Rain, calm down. You’d think a werewolf was out—” I stopped. My eyes grew wide. The last time he’d acted like this, a werewolf was outside. My heart was already in my throat. I looked toward the stable door. With the ruckus the other horses were making now, I couldn’t hear a thing outside. I reached for the latch just as Rain kicked the door out. I covered my head—protecting it from the debris that flew at me.

  Rain neighed loudly as he reared up on his hind legs. I didn’t think about it this time. I leapt onto his back, holding onto the harness I’d forgotten to remove yesterday. We burst through the stable door and were at a full run when I looked behind me—he was huge, bigger than any of the others—faster too.

  Rain shot across the lawn and down the path toward the pond like a bolt of lightning. I held on as tightly as I could, trying to stay as close to his body as possible.

  I glanced over my right shoulder. I screamed as the giant wolf lunged for me, knocking me clear off my horse.

  We flew through the air together, a ball of flesh and fur, landing in the pond like a boulder from the sky. I could feel my body sinking under its weight. I kicked and pulled through the water until my head broke through the surface.

  I roared out in pain, holding onto the back of my shoulder. I could feel the deep gashes left from its claws. I looked around frantically, searching from side to side. I couldn’t see it anywhere.

  I started making my way back to the bank when a low growl from behind stopped me cold. Everything was in slow motion. I could feel every blink my eye made. Every breath I took echoed as I exhaled. The water slowly rippled past my body as the wolf moved closer. And then . . . my heart stopped.

  I was too scared to move. I was chest deep in water. I couldn’t get away if I wanted to. I cringed, turning my head to the side. I didn’t want to look. I closed my eyes tight, waiting for it to attack. Something soft and smooth touched the side of my neck from behind. It wasn’t fur . . . it was flesh.

  I gasped. His scent was stronger than ever. Then I sighed in relief; thanking God it was only Damen.

  “You’re trembling.” He spoke softly in my ear. I could feel the heat of his breath on the side of my face. He pressed his body up against my back. The muscles that made up his chest gave the sensation of leaning against a rock. “You didn’t think I’d forgotten you?” he mused, grazing my ear with his lips.

  I turned my head just enough to see Damen standing behind me. He pushed my hair aside and gently kissed the back of my neck—I cringed.

  “You’re not afraid of me are you?” His question was taunting.

  “A little,” I admitted. “I’ve never seen you as a wolf before—I mean in the daylight.” My voice cracked.
<
br />   He slowly turned me around so we were facing each other. He didn’t allow much air between us.

  “Sorry about that,” he said looking to my shoulder. “That must hurt.” His eyes lingered on it for a moment. “You bleed far too easily.”

  “It’s fine!” I lied. I wasn’t about to let him know how badly he’d hurt me. I tried to ignore the blood that ran down my arm.

  “I see that’s not your only injury.” He took my hands in his, examining them.

  “I tripped,” I admitted, feeling foolish.

  He laughed heartedly. “I really should have turned you completely. It wasn’t fair of me to leave you so . . . blunderingly human.”

  I frowned. “It was dark; I fell!”

  “Don’t worry, Love. It’s a problem that’s easily remedied.”

  I shifted uneasily at his term of endearment.

  “I can’t stay long, Phoebe. But I had to see you again, before I leave.”

  My breath caught. “Where are you going?”

  He smiled wickedly. “Don’t tell me you’ll miss me?”

  I closed my eyes and took in a deep breath. I was starting to feel a little dizzy. “So why did you want to see me?” I asked flatly, getting us back on track. “Aside from wanting to throw me in this pond—yet again!”

  That got me a small smile. “To ask you to leave. To ask you to go home, like you’d planned.” His face had grown serious.

  “Why should you care if I go back home?”

  “In a day’s time, an army of werewolves will come through Northern England. We’ll take the island and then work our way across the mainland, exterminating them as we go.”

  “Them.” Meaning vampires. My mouth popped open. “Why would you tell me this? You must know I’ll tell Marcus.”

  “Because you’re one of us. I don’t want you killed . . . and despite what I think of Marcus, I know he’d put your safety first. When you tell him, he’ll insist you leave.”

  I thought back to the conversation Raymose and Marcus were having on the balcony. Marcus had said that Richard would be taking me home, but Raymose wanted me to stay and fight—this had to be the impending battle they spoke about.

  “Why would you care if I survived or not?” I spoke up, my voice sounding a little braver.

  He inched closer, his eyes once again falling to my shoulder. I shivered. “You know how I feel about you. I know you can feel the connection between us.” His eyes were piercing, blue and beautiful. He moved closer still. The water, not bothering to notice his body moving through it, remained glass-like. He took my hand, placing it on his heart. I could feel the heat of his skin before I even touched it, and when I did, his heartbeat quickened.

  His chest was that of an avid body builder, not unlike Marcus's. Only Damen’s skin looked as if he’d spent his days playing in the sun.

  “You’re immortal . . . how does your heart still beat?” I stared at my hand on his chest.

  “The same way yours does.” His answer was completely enigmatical.

  “Apparently not for long.”

  “You’re not going to die!” He looked taken aback.

  “Of course I am. You’re going to kill everyone.”

  “Not you. Just the blood sucking vampires,” he grinned. “They’re hardly worth shedding a tear over.”

  I sucked in my cheeks. I felt as though I’d been personally insulted. “They are not blood suckers.”

  “Oh, you’ve met some refined ones.” He grinned. “Shall I take you home? Your beloved dark father could show you some eating habits that would stand your hair on end.”

  I grimaced. I couldn’t allow the thought to linger. My tolerance for blood was spent the night I’d almost taken a mouthful, mistaking it for wine. I suddenly felt sick. I tried not to remember that my arm was ripped open.

  “Are you feeling alright my dear? You look a little green.” I could detect a small hint of enjoyment in his voice.

  “Yes, it’s just that blood . . . the thought of drinking blood . . .” I slapped my hand over my mouth, hoping to resist the urge to vomit.

  Damen laughed uncontrollably. “I don’t believe it. Lady Phoebe is repulsed by blood? Does Marcus know?” He was enjoying himself to the fullest.

  “Can we not talk about this; honestly, it’s disgusting.” Damen’s laughter turned into a howl. Apparently, this was by far the most comical turn of events he could have imagined . . . and he relished it.

  Annoyed, I started to move out of the water. My body was beyond cold—probably the only thing keeping my arm from falling off, I thought.

  “You know, it doesn’t have to be this way,” I yelled over my shoulder as I retreated. “You could get along with them again. You don’t have to fight.”

  “We will not serve the vampires any longer,” Damen growled. He’d snuck up behind me without me even noticing. His hand gripped my arm spinning me around. I winced at the pain of it. “We will not be free until Luther is dead!”

  “Well, I’m not one of you.” I tried to break free from his grasp. “I’m not a werewolf. Don’t expect me to support your cause.”

  “You could have been!” He smiled wickedly. “You were lucky. I have the ability to control my bite, and more importantly, I can control the amount of venom I give. Yours was an accident. I had no intension in biting you. I didn’t even know you existed. We simply . . . collided. Imagine, the odds of me literally running into you, after all this time.” He stared at me, mesmerized by the very idea.

  “The other werewolves, they’re not like you, are they? They’re not as advanced.”

  “No,” Damen admitted. “They will bite or kill whoever gets in their path.” His tone was dark.

  “Except me, right? You said they weren’t supposed to hurt me.” My words were broken and weak sounding. He knew I was scared.

  He touched my cheek gently. “That is unfortunately not the case any longer.” His eyes softened a little. “Luther is the oldest of the living vampires—the creator. He has managed to keep the werewolves enslaved for thousands of years. He must be killed if we are to ever truly be free.”

  I stared at him, confused. What did that have to do with me?

  “You are his daughter,” Damen went on, answering my unspoken question. “But you are no longer a vampire. You belong to my world now.” There was a sense of malice in his tone, and I found myself cringing away from him. “Luther will not fight his own daughter, even if you are one of the retched beasts he detests.”

  I gasped at the insult, his words cutting deep.

  “He will forfeit his life in order to save yours. Victory will be ours.” I could see a triumphant look in his eyes; it was as if he’d already won the battle.

  “Damen, I’m not Luther’s daughter. He doesn’t even know I’m here. I’m not that Phoebe!” I could feel the tears of frustration running down my cheeks. “He wouldn’t sacrifice himself for me—why would he have to?” I dreaded the answer before I’d heard it.

  Damen grabbed the back of my neck and pulled my head to his. His lips trembled against my ear. “But . . . you are . . . my dear. You. Are!”

  My body was shaking. Fear, the chill of the water, and the considerable blood loss I’d suffered was consuming me.

  “Aidric will offer you in exchange for Luther’s cooperation. If he refuses . . . ”

  “You’d let them kill me?” I looked at him in disbelief.

  His expression hardened. “I will not have a choice!” he growled through his teeth.

  “No! You’d never let them hurt me if you truly loved me. You’re lying . . . Why?”

  “To lose you again would be more than Luther could bear. Even he has a heart when it comes to you. Aidric is counting on that . . . so am I.”

  “Why are you doing this to me?”

  “It’s normal to want what you can’t have. And to fight for what others said you wouldn’t.” His eyes narrowed. “Luther felt it necessary to constantly remind me that I’d never have your love . . . not as l
ong as he lives anyway,” he muttered the last part under his breath, but the message came out loud and clear. “Aidric has offered you as a gift to me for my continued support in this endeavor. He was very pleased to find that you still lived.”

  “What!” I thundered, completely insulted that someone I didn’t even know had the nerve to “offer” me as a gift. “So that’s how you justify sacrificing me to Aidric? You really think that’s going to earn you points with me . . . or Luther?” I threw the last bit in for good measure, knowing it would push a button.

  “I don’t have to prove anything to Luther!” he spat. “As for proving myself to you,” he inched closer. “I spent decades serving you! Fighting for you. Loving you in silence. I proved my love and loyalty to you time and time again!” he thundered. “I took beatings for you! I’ve earned your love!”

  I gasped at the harshness of his words. My whole world seemed to still as I realized what Damen had said. His expression gave him away—he’d said too much.

  “Damen?” My voice was barely a whisper over the loud pounding in my chest. “Did someone hurt you . . . because of me?” I found myself reaching out to him. My hand trembled against his chest.

  He took my hand and brought it to his lips. He kissed it gently before holding it to his heart. “I’m sorry. You are not to concern yourself with that. Forgive me, Phoebe.” He bowed his head. He truly looked repentant. “I never meant for you to ever know.”

  It took a moment before I realized my mouth was still open. My mind was reeling. What was he hiding from me? What wasn’t I supposed to know? Who would have hurt him . . . because of me?

  “Phoebe, I know I could make you happy, if you’d just give me a chance.” His eyes were so hopeful. He’d never looked more human than he did at this very moment, and a small part of me now ached for him.

  “Damen, you’re a werewolf. Why would you have loved me . . . a vampire?” I suddenly found myself wanting to learn the mystery behind Damen’s love for Phoebe.

  “Because you never saw me as anyone but Damen. I was never a monster in your eyes. Even now, you still don’t see me as a werewolf. I’m just a man. It doesn’t matter what we are. It never has.”

  “But you taunt Marcus for loving me. A vampire and a . . . well . . . I’m different than he is.”