Blood Destiny

by Tessa Dawn

  Jocelyn sighed. She was growing accustomed to his primitive nature, beginning to see it...and accept it...in a different light.

  "Nathaniel?" she whispered, her voice all at once becoming serious. "Can I ask you something?"

  "Anything," he answered, propping himself up on his side to hold her tightly beneath him, staring adoringly into her eyes.

  Jocelyn took a deep breath. She knew what was coming.

  Well, sort of. She knew about the curse and what was ultimately...required...of her, but she hadn't had the courage to face it until now. It had taken the terrifying events of the previous night, the horror of what had been done to Braden, to move the last several days from the realm of fantasy into the world of reality. It had taken her horrible encounter with Tristan to realize how far Nathaniel would go to protect her...how much safety, kindness, and love he had to offer her.

  No one had ever really looked out for her before, and certainly, no one had wanted to possess her—to please her—the way Nathaniel did. When he looked at her, it was as if she were the only thing in his world—as if she could hang the moon and the stars.

  Colette was right: There were far worse fates than ending up with a man such as Nathaniel. And now that she knew what kind of lover he could be, she had no intentions of ever letting him go.

  Jocelyn's hand slid down over her belly, and she braced herself, forcing her eyes to maintain contact with his. "So then...am I...pregnant?"

  She almost choked over the word, but having managed to get it out, she now held her breath, waiting for his reply.

  Nathaniel studied her face, brushing her cheek softly with his hand. "Ah, iubito mea," he sighed, "there is so much I have asked of you in such a short time. It will not always be this way."

  He kissed her forehead, her cheeks, the tip of her nose, and then he planted a long, languorous kiss on her mouth, his lips equally soft and firm, his passion equally ardent and gentle.

  His manhood stirred but he made no attempt to arouse her further. "I intend to make you happy, my love." An intriguing smile lit up his face. "In fact, I've been studying your memories, and I hope you don't mind because I already have a few ideas...."

  Jocelyn couldn't resist, her curiosity getting the best of her. "Like?"

  He sighed. "Like having an aquarium built here in the house." He brushed his fingers lightly along the length of her arm and took her hand in his. "If you like, we can keep it simple and just have the...pets...you have in San Diego transported here: very carefully, I might add." He lifted her hand to his mouth and gently kissed her knuckles. "I have no intentions of allowing even one of your beloved fish to die."

  He chuckled. "Or, if you're up for the adventure, we could expand on your collection."

  Jocelyn smiled. "How so?"

  "I have always wanted an atrium: a large, tropical rainforest of my own, complete with mist, exotic birds, and waterfalls. And what better place to build an aquarium, maybe something panoramic, something naturally occurring, than in the midst of a tropical paradise. We could bring in the rarest fish from all over the world." He kissed her mouth then, tugging on her bottom lip with his teeth before releasing her. "Would that please you?"

  Jocelyn knew her face was flushed because she could feel the warmth, the joy bubbling over. "Yes!" she exclaimed. "Oh my God, I was so worried about what was going to happen to my fish." She laughed at the absurdity of the statement, all other things considered.

  Nathaniel laughed too. "Do you really think that little of me, Jocelyn?" He was playfully sarcastic. "I have already made arrangements for their care in San Diego until we can have them transported."

  Jocelyn kissed his cheek and brushed her hand across his sexy chest, smiling as she gazed up into his eyes. "Thank you, Nathaniel."

  His eyes lit up with satisfaction. "You're most welcome. And speaking of care, there is the matter of your next-door neighbor: Ida, is it?"

  Jocelyn sat up, staring into his eyes like a child full of anticipation, waiting. "Mmm hmm."

  "Of course, it's hard to say what she will or will not let us do. When a human lives to such an age, they are usually quite set in their ways, but I know she has no other family and her care is extremely important to you. If necessary, we can hire someone to continue her care in San Diego...."

  Jocelyn's eyes grew wide with excitement.

  "And I don't just mean someone to carry out the day-today functions of looking after her, but someone kind, someone willing to provide companionship. However, if she is willing to move, then I would have no objection to providing for her here, setting her up in a comfortable place of her own, surrounded with all of her favorite things, so you could continue to see her as often as you like."

  Jocelyn felt a warm tear escape her eye. Nathaniel caught it with his mouth as it made its way along her cheek. "No tears, my love," he whispered. "Never tears. Does this make you sad?"

  "No..." She shook her head. "It makes me unbelievably happy." She looked away then. "You know, I never really had a family of my own; I never even knew my birth parents. And after growing up in so many different foster homes, I eventually learned how to get by without really...connecting...with anyone. They were all just caretakers—people to whom I owed a certain amount of time and courtesy—people I had to learn to get along with until I could finally move out on my own and become self-reliant.

  Ida was different because I chose her. I wanted her in my life. And she chose me."

  Nathaniel sat up and held her then, pressing her tight to his chest, his strong arms enveloping her in warmth and security. "I know this, baby; I have seen so many of your memories. Believe me, you have a family now...wanted or not."

  "Marquis," she responded, matter-of-factly.

  "Marquis," he agreed, grinning. "Don't worry; he grows on you."

  Jocelyn sighed. "Yeah, I suppose. And who knows, maybe if I ever get past the urge to take off running every time I see him, I might just find something I like about him."

  Nathaniel laughed. "Don't hold your breath on that one. I still get the urge to take off running every time I see him, and he's my brother." There was a playful note in his voice.

  "Well, I guess there's one great advantage to Marquis."

  "What's that?"

  "Security. I will certainly never be afraid of anything again with him around."

  Nathaniel sat up straight—rigid—the lines of his face becoming harsh. He snarled a low, feral hiss. "Marquis is the one who makes you feel safe?" Despite his valiant attempt at humor, there was a subtle but clear warning in his tone.

  Jocelyn nuzzled her head in his chest, loving the fresh, masculine scent of his skin, the warmth and strength of his arms, the protective way he held her. "You are so silly, Nathaniel. Marquis was not the one who came to me that first night in the forest—even before the blood moon." She twirled her fingers in his thick mane of hair. "And Marquis was not the one who...rearranged...Tristan's anatomy. I think you keep me safe enough."

  Nathaniel's eyes turned cold, his pupils like two hard stones of granite. "I exercised enormous restraint with Tristan...you have no idea. I did not want to frighten you, or his death would have been far more...painful...and much, much slower."

  Jocelyn shuddered, studying his face for the slightest hint of an exaggeration. There was none. She didn't answer. What could have possibly been more painful than removing his manhood? More gruesome than ripping his heart out through his throat? She honestly didn't want to know. One thing was for certain, however—she might need to rethink her assessment of the Silivasi brothers as a whole: Marquis might not be the most dangerous, after all.

  All at once Nathaniel relaxed again. He reached out for her hand and held it to his heart. "Now then, to answer your original question, my love. No, angel, you are not pregnant...yet."

  Jocelyn let out a deep, animated sigh—unsure if she was relieved or disappointed. Her hand went absently to her belly and she covered it protectively. "It takes several tries?" she asked, blushing. Then all
at once, a very real sense of dread began to overtake her. "Nathaniel, what if it doesn't happen?

  What would happen to you if I can't become—"

  "Shhh, angel of mine." Nathaniel pressed a finger to her mouth and placed his own hand over her abdomen. "There is little to fear: You are my true destiny. There is no question that it will happen. In a sense, it has already happened."

  Jocelyn shook her head. "I don't understand."

  Nathaniel smiled a mischievous-looking grin. "Now that we have already...come to know each other so intimately...it is simply a matter of speaking it into being. Anytime within the next seventy-two hours, I can command your body to conceive...and it will be so."

  Jocelyn abruptly sat up, turned to face him squarely, and gulped—her eyes wide with surprise. "You have that kind of power...over me? Over my body? With just your words?" The thought was more than a little unsettling.

  "Jocelyn," he admonished, "you have the power of life and death over me right now, too. We each have tremendous power over each other—it is as it should be."

  Jocelyn slowly nodded and lay back down, her head finding a pillow in the comfortable nook between his chest and arm.

  "I guess that makes sense." She looked up at him, her eyes soft with compassion, her heart emboldened with as much courage as she could muster. "Nathaniel, after what happened the other night...after what I did...walking away with Tristan..." She looked away, still feeling ashamed. "I really couldn't bear for something to happen to you—and especially not because of me and my fears. I might not understand exactly what you are, or how all of this came to be, but I know in my heart that it's right. And I know that I want to be with you. So I guess I'm ready. And honestly, the sooner the better."

  Nathaniel stroked her cheek, his eyes wide with wonder.

  "As much as I detest the Blood Curse, I always marvel at the wisdom of the ancients, how the souls of our destinies are so perfectly suited to our own. You are a miracle to me, Jocelyn Levi; you will never know just how much of a miracle...how long I have waited for you...how I have dreamed of you...imagined you...longed for you. And now that I have you here in my arms, you are more amazing to me than any dream could have ever been."

  He closed his eyes for a moment, and when he reopened them they were absolutely beaming with affection. Yet, there was also something else hidden in their remarkable depths, something Jocelyn had never seen there before—

  Fear.

  "Nathaniel, what is it?"

  He took both of her hands in his and brought them to his forehead. He bowed his head as if praying. When he opened his eyes, they were gravely serious. "You cannot conceive my child—or go through the pregnancy—as you are...as a human.

  You have already seen the results of such a thing...."

  He nestled his chin in her hair. "I have to convert you first, my love, make you as I am." He closed his eyes and lowered his head. "As soon as the conversion is complete, I will command your conception."

  Jocelyn shrugged warily. "Okay...so what's the problem?"

  Nathaniel frowned. "The change is...very difficult...Jocelyn; it can be quite painful. I wish I could spare you from the worst of the transition, but I'm afraid it cannot be done.

  Fortunately, it does not last that long."

  "How long?" she asked, certain her fear was reflected in her eyes.

  "It depends on the individual. For some, no more than forty-five minutes to an hour—for others, as long as five or six...but rarely more than that."

  Jocelyn let out her breath, unaware she had been holding it until then. "I can do that, Nathaniel. I'm stronger than you think."

  Nathaniel smiled then, brushing her cheek with a soft kiss.

  "Of course you are, but I need you to be truly prepared. Truly ready. There is no stopping the transition once it begins...no going back. To do so would risk your life, and I will not do that...no matter what occurs."

  Jocelyn winced as the weight of his words sank in. He wasn't kidding: This transition had to be bad—really, really bad. Because she had never seen anything give Nathaniel pause before.

  "It's necessary, though, isn't it?" she asked. "For you to live? For us to be together?"

  Nathaniel nodded solemnly. "Yes, it is."

  "Then I want to do it. And not just for you, Nathaniel. Not just to save your life from that horrible...curse. But because I really want to be with you." She looked down. "Sometimes you don't even know what's missing in your life...until you find it." Her voice was soft.

  But powerful.

  Nathaniel cupped her face in his hands and kissed her long, hard, and thoroughly. He sat up against the headboard of the bed and raised one knee, completely unashamed of the enormous, jutting erection standing up against his thigh like an iron statue in response to the kiss. "Why don't you go take a shower, then? Wash your hair, relax for a moment, have a cup of tea, and come back. When you return to me, I will have you sit in front of me, lean back into my arms where I can hold you...." He gently swept the pad of his finger down her neck, from just beneath the lobe of her ear to her collarbone. "Where I will have the easiest access to your—"

  "I get the picture." Jocelyn pulled back but tried to smile.

  Nathaniel reached forward to take her hand and gave it a firm, reassuring squeeze. "When you are comfortable and safe in my arms, I will convert you. We will do it tonight then, yes?"

  Jocelyn nodded—unconvincingly.

  "Yes?" he repeated.

  She looked into his dark, enchanting eyes, the love and kindness he felt toward her so brilliantly glowing in the centers. "Yes," she said with authority. She leaned over and kissed his beautiful lips. "Yes, Nathaniel."

  Nathaniel smiled, staring at her like she was an angel, something he could hardly comprehend. "Go then, my love.

  And when you are ready, come back to me."

  Jocelyn crawled slowly off the bed, retrieved her bathrobe from the floor, and began to make her way to the bathroom.

  Her eyes took in her surroundings: the view from the glorious windows; the tall, rustic beams on the ceiling; the gorgeous, powerful being gazing at her from the bed. It was all hers now. This life. This home. The beauty all around her. A family.

  He was hers now.

  As she left the room, her eyes caught the glory of the luminous white moon shining down upon them from a tranquil night sky, and it occurred to her that it was the last sky she would ever see as a human being.

  By this time tomorrow night, she would be like Nathaniel.

  And there would be no turning back from him. Or her new life.

  Vampires were immortal beings.

  And even if they weren't, she knew one thing for certain: Nathaniel Silivasi—that gorgeous, powerful, primitive male, with all of his strength, tenderness, and cunning—would never...ever...let her go.

  Good thing she didn't want him to.

  Jocelyn sauntered into the bathroom, determined not to look back.

  Chapter Twenty-four

  Marquis was sitting on the back porch relaxing, simply taking in the soothing sounds of nature and the soft, rustling melody of water trickling in the shallow, meandering river behind his house, when he heard a frantic knock at his front door.

  He sighed. What now?

  The last several days had been nothing but action.

  And anxiety.

  And he just wanted to unwind in the serenity of his home.

  Although he had to admit, at least one weight had been lifted from his shoulders; he had brushed Nathaniel's mind several times earlier that evening, a habit of checking in on his younger brothers that he hadn't been able to break in centuries—so he no longer tried, only to find that Nathaniel was planning on converting Jocelyn later that night.

  Marquis didn't envy his little brother the trauma of conversion—or Jocelyn either for that matter. She'd had so much to absorb in such a little amount of time. But the woman was a female warrior as far as he was concerned, even if she did take occasional reckless chances witho
ut always thinking. Marquis chuckled, remembering the look on her face when he had told her he would turn her into a human puppet if he had to. It was certainly no laughing matter, but the woman was a spitfire.

  Marquis sighed as he walked around the side deck toward the front door. He knew Nathaniel and Jocelyn would get through the conversion okay: His brother was too strong to accept any other outcome. And then...finally...Nathaniel would be one step away from freeing himself from that damnable blood curse—the blight of their kind that weighed like a heavy burden from the moment a male was born until the moment he finally secured his destiny. It was an ever present cloud that followed them like a shadow, blocking out the full warmth of...existence...the ability to fully embrace one's immortality up until that fateful moment finally came.

  For better or for worse.

  When Marquis rounded the corner, his eyes caught a wealth of medium-length honey-blond hair and the delicate frame of a woman, her back turned to his. She was weeping uncontrollably...utterly frantic, in fact...her slight fists pounding anxiously on the front door as she repeatedly called his name.

  Marquis quickly scanned the area and scented the air. He closed his eyes, putting out feelers, trying to detect any hidden source of danger...to identify whatever it was that had so deeply shaken the woman at the front door.

  "Joelle?"

  "Marquis!" His housekeeper spun around and struggled for breath, frightened by his sudden appearance.

  Marquis took a step back then, absolutely stunned by what he saw—his mind whirling around in a fog of confusion as his brain tried to process what his eyes were telling him. It was like trying to put together an obvious, yet elusive jigsaw puzzle: a riddle with such a horrifying conclusion that it hid in plain sight...taunting his sanity with the hideous truth—

  Because if what Marquis was seeing was true, then he was staring at the face of...death.

  "My God!" he exclaimed. "What the—"

  There were no words.