Eternal Beloved

by Bella Abbott

  I snorted. “So…Merlin…made a ton of this stuff, and somehow you lost it? And now we’re screwed? This is crazy.”

  Jared nodded again. “Yes, that’s basically it. But…where there is a will, there’s a way.” He hesitated. “Although…seeing you as a mortal, I would prefer any solution other than making you…like me again. You give up so much. If there’s any other way…”

  He sat forward and took my hands in his. His skin was cool, his fingers strong yet delicate as a surgeon’s, his flesh pale but not so much that it would attract attention. The connection between us was like an electrical current completing a circuit, each of us the other’s missing piece, the sum of our energy only whole when we were physically connected. I wanted so badly to have him hold me – for the first time in my life in a way that was more than kissing – yet for all my desire, it wasn’t to be. I’d already bawled enough for one day, but I still could feel tears of frustration welling in my eyes.

  Jared shared my sentiment, because he wrapped me completely in his arms and hugged me tightly. I fought back there as the two of us sat on the bed, feeling as hopeless as at any point in my life, Jared’s scent and aura so intoxicating it was all I could do to keep from baring my throat and risking eternal damnation for a moment of passion.

  Chapter 28

  The house was cool and quiet when I made my way down the stairs after a restive night. Morning’s soft glow seeped from behind the curtained windows as I went room by room until I heard his voice from outside, beneath the rear porch by the kitchen. I busied myself making a meal of yogurt and bagels, and by the time I was done, he was back inside and seated at a round breakfast table, watching me as though fascinated by my every move.

  “Morning,” I said, carting my food to the table.

  He stood and planted a quick kiss on my cheek before returning to his seat. “Good morning. You sleep well?”

  I shrugged. “I suppose.” I took a bite of bagel. “Who were you talking to?”

  “Christina. She’s been nosing around, trying to see what she can find out about Carl. So far it isn’t positive. His apartment in Portland is deserted, and his cell phone’s now dead, so it’s untraceable.”

  “Crap,” I exclaimed, nearly knocking my drink over. “I forgot to plug in my phone last night. But I have to call the school and let them know why I’m not in class. And my roommates…”

  “You can charge it in here if you want,” he said, indicating an outlet by the counter. “But you can’t tell them where you are, and I’d ask that you take the battery out when you aren’t using it.”

  I frowned. “You really think someone’s trying to track me? Come on, Jared. Seriously?”

  “Probably not. But I don’t want to take any chances. Just do this my way for the time being, okay, Lacey?”

  I sighed, exasperated. “So what do I tell the school?”

  He shrugged. “There’s been an emergency. Family matter. An injury or an accident – that’s partially true, given what happened to the Porsche. You’ll be out for a few days. Nothing more.”

  “And my roommates?”

  “You don’t need to elaborate. Just be vague and say you’ll be back shortly.”

  I took another bite of bagel, which suddenly tasted like cardboard as my mouth went dry. “I really hate lying, Jared. I…I’m terrible at it.”

  “Don’t think of it as lying. There’s some truth in what you’re saying – this is an emergency, and there was an accident. Don’t embellish, and you’ll be fine.”

  “How about I just tell my roommates I can’t tell them where I am?”

  Annoyance flitted across Jared’s face for a moment, and then his expression softened. “That’s fine. Tell them you’re on an adventure and you’ve been sworn to secrecy. That’s true, too. But under no circumstances tell them where you are.”

  I finished eating, cleaned my plate at the sink, and then turned to face Jared with my hands on my hips. “So…now what?”

  “Plug in your phone, and I’ll give you a tour of the studio gear and play you some of my songs – assuming you want to hear them.”

  “I’d love to, of course. But…what about the hunters?”

  “I’m going to Ridley to meet with Christina before shooting starts. She’s pulling in favors from all her connections to see if anyone has heard anything. Obviously this is particularly concerning with the get-together happening in just a few weeks. We need to eliminate the threat as soon as possible.”

  “You’re really hell-bent on filming, even with the hunters out there?”

  He nodded. “Like I said – the best way to draw them out is for them to think I have no idea what’s going on.”

  “Kind of hard to pretend Carl’s not missing, isn’t it?”

  “True, but they have no idea how close we were, or even conclusive proof that I’m…special. It’s one thing to suspect, but another to know.”

  “You don’t think they were able to get it out of Carl?”

  His mouth tightened. “Not a chance. He would have gone to his grave without giving them anything. As would I. Or Christina. None of us fear death, and we’re impervious to most pain.”

  Which made sense, I thought. If they were already undead, they’d gone through the death part of the equation and come out the other side – as had I, I realized. In some sense, at least. Still, the end of existence, never seeing another day…the mortal part of me recoiled instinctively from the idea.

  I tapped my fingers on the table. “Then why…why kill him?”

  “Because that’s what hunters do. It’s what they live for. It’s always been like that. Something drives them to kill us as their life’s calling.” He took my hand to quiet it. “Don’t worry, Lacey. In the old days there might have been whole villages of them. This is actually a huge improvement. Science and technology have largely rendered the old ways moot. Which is why I’m surprised about this, frankly. It’s been…decades since I’ve heard of any hunters in North America. In Europe and the Middle East, sure, there are still enclaves, but there hasn’t been anything in the U.S. since forever – and the last bunch were in New Orleans, which is a long way from Maine.”

  “Was that group after you, too?”

  He shook his head. “No. I’ve never aroused any attention, which is why this is mystifying.” He paused a long beat. “It’s why I suspect that they might be acting in concert with darker forces.”

  “But to what end, Jared?”

  “To destroy my kind, Lacey. It’s always the same. The why is almost immaterial. They want us dead, eradicated, expunged from the earth.”

  Jared followed me to the bedroom, where I retrieved my phone and charger, and after stopping at the kitchen to plug it in, we went to the banquet hall. It looked even larger during the day. A row of high stained-glass windows running beneath the rafters heightened the sensation of being in a cathedral. Jared sat behind the massive console and indicated a rolling swivel chair.

  “Have a seat. I’ll do a quick rough mix and you can tell me what you think.”

  His fingers flew over the board as the computer monitor blinked, and I could hear the barest trace of sound from his headphones. After a few minutes, he sat back and switched the playback to the larger of the two pairs of speakers mounted in front of the board.

  A keyboard bass line pulsed over a mechanical heartbeat, and then a distant harmony of vocals built into a wall of voices in a crescendo of sound. At the climax of the vocals, a guitar riffed at blinding speed, and then the drums kicked in with a tribal beat that sounded like the end of the world. Jared listened with intense concentration as the song developed from the opening refrain through a four-line verse and into an unexpected bridge, and then repeated the chorus again as yet more instruments joined the main melody in a contretemps so intricate it took my breath away.

  When the song ended, I felt like an hour had gone by, not the barely four minutes on the screen counter. I glanced over at Jared, who was studying me expectantly, and sat back
.

  “I’ve never heard anything like that, Jared,” I said, the awe in my voice genuine. “It’s…it’s amazing.”

  His grin lent his features an impish look, and he nodded slowly. “It still needs a lot of work, but it’s getting there. It’s not a lead single, but rather something more…orchestral. That’s sort of out of fashion these days, but I’m hoping I can bring it back with this number and a few others. These things go in cycles, so it’s about time, I’d think.”

  He played me samples of three more songs, all of which were dramatically different from the first – hookier, more accessible, immediately infectious and easy to relate to. When Jared clicked the monitor off, I was floored by the amount of talent he had – what I’d heard of his first album had barely hinted at the depth of these offerings.

  “So you like it?” he asked.

  “I think you’re going to be ten times bigger than big, Jared. Seriously. And it’s all you?”

  He nodded. “Yes. The band will play their parts from the charts I write, but it’s my recipe.” He grinned again. “I’m not so great at compromising, so this way I don’t have to.”

  “I’ll have to remember that when we don’t agree on something,” I said.

  Jared’s smile didn’t falter. “I meant with music.”

  I checked the time. “I need to call the school, Jared. The morning’s half over.”

  He stood. “And I need to get on the road. I have a lunch meeting with Christina, and it’ll get more hectic from there, I suspect.”

  “So I won’t see you all day?”

  “I’ll try to make it back before filming starts. But worst case, I’ll be back after shooting tonight.”

  I looked around. “It’s kind of creepy being all by myself in this huge house.”

  “It’s just you. I already banished all the ghosts. They won’t be back.”

  I threw him a dark look. “Are you serious?”

  He laughed. “There are no spooks here, Lacey. Just relax. If you get bored out of your mind, I’ve got a ton of concert footage and interviews on the disks there the record company wants to make into a mini-documentary,” he said, indicating a box by the second computer. “Just don’t touch the one I used for the playback, please. The other one’s a spare, just in case, but you can use it if you want.”

  “No TV?” I asked. “Or internet?”

  He shook his head. “Sorry. We’re kind of in the boonies, and I don’t watch TV or do anything web-based. But my phone has a data signal, so you should be able to access the internet on yours.”

  When Jared left, the echo of the front door closing sounded as loud as a cannon in the cavernous hall. I sat staring at the recording equipment for a long moment and then crossed the floor and made for the kitchen, where my phone power indicator was pulsing red.

  When I switched the phone on, the battery showed only fifteen percent charged, and I cursed myself for not plugging it in the night before. A thought occurred to me, and I thumbed through the phone numbers, looking for the Ridley administrative offices, which of course I didn’t have. That led me on a frustrating and agonizingly slow web search of the school’s site, at the end of which I had a central number for all the various departments.

  My throat was tight when I placed the call, but when I navigated the automated system to Mrs. Coates’s extension, it went directly to voicemail, to my vast relief. I waited for the tone and spoke slowly and evenly so the message wouldn’t be garbled.

  “Hi, Mrs. Coates, this is Lacey Wilkes. I’m calling to tell you that there’s been an emergency…an accident…and I won’t be in class for a day or two at least. I’m not hurt or anything, but I didn’t want anyone to worry about where I was. Thanks, and I’ll let you know when I get back. I’ll talk with all my teachers about any missing work.”

  I hung up and stared at the phone, hoping that I’d sounded convincing. Worst case, I could amend the story to one where I’d been in an accident and, while unhurt, hadn’t been able to make it back to Ridley until I’d given a statement or whatever. Or maybe I hadn’t had the money to return and had to wait till someone sent it. I figured I would worry about all that when I had to, though; right now I had other thoughts competing for my limited bandwidth.

  Like how Jared and I were going to make things work between us.

  I frowned and walked to the fridge for another bottle of water. It was just my luck that I’d fallen head over heels for a guy who wasn’t even human. Worse, for all his assurances, what I’d been left with was that there wasn’t any clear way forward, other than us behaving like roommates with each other forever, or worse, brother and sister – and of all the feelings I had for Jared, exactly none were sisterly.

  I sighed in exasperation and headed back to the master bedroom to make the bed and tidy up. I took a shower and cleaned everything I could think of in the bedroom, which only killed an hour and left me wondering how else to busy myself so I didn’t constantly think about Jared and the impossible situation we were in.

  I headed downstairs and used my phone to research vampires for a bit, wishing I had my more efficient laptop with me, but I quickly lost interest; it was obvious that the sites were sheer flights of fancy, and they bore little in common with what Jared had told me. I switched the phone off and let it continue to charge, and then walked to the banquet hall again and sat behind the console, my eyes drawn to the box of disks Jared had pointed out.

  I powered on the spare computer and selected one of the disks at random. An image flickered to life, and I turned the speakers up to hear it better. It was a concert in a coliseum. Jared rooster-strutted across a stage, his chest bare and shirt unbuttoned to his navel, skin glistening and radiant. He finished the song, and the camera panned over the audience – thousands and thousands of young women screaming at the top of their lungs in an obvious frenzy.

  A knot tightened in my stomach as I watched the disk, which continued with his performance, and then moved backstage, where yet more young women with supermodel faces, clad in slinky outfits, leaned lazily against walls, drinks in hand, while Jared held court nearby. The scene changed to another angle, and a trio of scantily clad brunettes flashed peace signs while the one in the center waggled her tongue lasciviously at the camera.

  I ejected the disk and tried another one, and the coil in my gut squirmed when the first image was Jared and a winsome blonde in a hippie top and leather pants, on the tarmac of an anonymous airport. Both he and the woman waved at the camera and made their way to a private jet, her hips bouncing suggestively as the camera followed them to the aircraft.

  I tried another, and then another, but it was more of the same – Jared surrounded by female fans, Jared hanging with gorgeous starlets in the studio, Jared leaving clubs with various chanteuses, pursued by the press, Jared on talk shows with conspicuously flirting hostesses ogling him.

  It wasn’t just the gorgeous women that hit me; it was the whole lifestyle. So polished; so professional. So much money. Jared was over two hundred years old. I was barely out of high school. What he loved – what he thought he loved – was someone who’d died before I was born. Was she really me? I had none of her memories. Maybe a glimmer, maybe some feelings, but not like Jared’s memories. He didn’t love me; he loved some ghost.

  After two hours of reviewing Jared’s disks, my self-esteem and self-assurance had been wrestled to the ground and punched in the throat. I was hyperventilating, and I felt a full-blown panic attack coming on – something I hadn’t had in several years. I groped my way to the kitchen and held a paper sandwich bag to my mouth, breathing deeply in and out, deliberately reducing the amount of oxygen I was taking in. Several minutes later I had myself back under control, and I crumpled up the bag in disgust and tossed it into the garbage.

  All his reassurances given so earnestly in the park in New York City had vanished. He’d sounded so convincing then; but I couldn’t shake the feeling that he was simultaneously pining after someone I didn’t even know, and treating
me like a child. Which, compared to him, I was, of course. Which didn’t help! But why did he get to decide what information to share and what to withhold? Why was it his decision whether I stay or go? I’d only just started the studies I’d been looking forward to. I couldn’t even take the coding class I wanted until next year, but already I was on some indefinite leave of absence, and I couldn’t even discuss it with anyone else.

  It took every bit of willpower I had to fight back the indignation that threatened to swell into genuine anger. The feelings lingered like toxic smoke in the air, now invisible but not quite gone. I knew his understanding of our situation was greater than mine, and knew I should trust him to do as he’d promised – to share more with me when the time was right – but logic and reason only went so far, and when I threw myself down on the bed, I was in tears, unable to make out the possibility of a future with him – or even to know if that was what I truly wanted.

  Chapter 29

  When I awoke, it was already getting dark out. I checked the time and groaned softly – I needed to eat something. My heart sank at realizing I’d be on my own for at least another two or three hours, when filming would end for the night. I forced myself to my feet and switched on the bathroom light, only to find a reflection that looked like I’d wrestled a bear before going to sleep. My face and eyes were puffy and red, and my hair was a disaster. It looked like I’d styled it with a blender.

  I took the second shower of the day and spent half an hour pulling myself together. By the time I was done, I thought I looked passable, although whether Jared would figure out I’d spent half the day crying was a different story.

  Downstairs, my phone was blinking green, and I decided to check my text messages while I made dinner. I had at least twenty messages from my roommates. After browsing through the missives, all wanting to know how the night had gone once I’d left the concert with Jared, where I was, when I would be back, etc., etc., I responded to Serena’s first, assuring her I was fine, and then to Kate’s, which I figured would do double duty for Sarah, given how they were connected at the hip.