Cleopatra's Return: A Paranormal/Vampire Romance (8 page)

Concerned
, and even a touch frightened, he rose from his bed stowed in a secure room in the basement of his home, hidden from all but his most trusted servants and his one friend. Michael flew up the stairs, his feet only skimming their surface in his hurry.

The fading daylight
shining through the windows flanking his front door made him squint and tickled his exposed skin unpleasantly, but not enough for him to stop when he saw Cleopatra crumpled on the floor. Chester knelt at her side, checking her pulse.

In a blurring moment, Michael held her cradled in his lap
.

“Isn’t that touching
?” said a voice dripping with disgust.

Michael looked up and saw him standing in the staircase. He
bestowed an angry glare on his best friend of the last few hundred years, Julius Caesar, former lover of his paramour, Cleopatra.

“You’re home early,” said Michael accusingly.

“Too late I would have said judging by how the harpy has already sunk her claws into you.”

“What did you do to her?” asked Michael
, lifting her with ease and carrying her into the living room while Chester scurried to yank shut the drapes in the room, blocking out the irritating sunlight.

Julius followed him. “I merely said hello
. Not my fault she up and fainted.”

Michael could he
ar the truth in his words, but he could also clearly perceive Jules’ stiff anger and hatred. Cleopatra had always been a hands-off topic between them. Michael now wished he’d pushed for more information, for Jules, while bitter before, now seemed livid at the unconscious female in Michael’s arms and, even more strangely, at him. Unless…

“Are you jealous
we have become lovers?” If you could call one night of absolute bliss a relationship. Then again, he planned a repeat performance tonight, tomorrow, the next day… And, well, maybe after a few hundred years, he’d give her a night off.

Julius laughed bitterly.
“Me? Jealous that you’ve taken a whore to your bed?”

In a flash, Michael deposited Cleo carefully on the couch and flew across the low
-slung table, the only thing that barred his path to Jules. But nothing came in between his fist and his friend’s jaw.

Jules went flying back, crashing into the wall with a hard thud. A human would have died from the blow, but Jules just shook his head and sneered at Michael.

“What’s wrong? Can’t stand the truth? She didn’t acquire the nickname Whore Queen for nothing.”

“I’m not a whore,”
muttered Cleo, who’d regained consciousness. The catch in her voice stabbed at Michael. He rushed to her side and gathered her to him, offering her comfort. She wouldn’t take it and pushed at him so she could stand to face Julius. Her eyes flashed with the spirit he’d already grown fond of. “You of all people should know I’m not a slut. After all, you were the one to take my virginity.”

A derisive snort was
Julius’ reply, but even given his disdain, Michael saw the momentary softening in his face as he remembered the past.

Cleo kept talking. “I was faithful to you
up until your death, even though you were married to another, even though everyone laughed at me and insulted me. I loved you, and this is how you remember me?” Her voice cracked, and Michael wanted to hit Julius all over again.

“Loved me? Is that why you jumped into bed with that pervert Marc
Antony? Is that why you fucked anyone who would help you remain queen? And what about your sister? You had her fucking killed. The woman I thought I loved would never have done that.”

“After all we shared so long ago, I cannot believe you would think that of me. Fuck you
, Julius. It’s because of you that Marc thought he could have me. I never had a choice. He made my life a living hell and killed everyone close to me, including my sister. You’re just as bad as everyone else, automatically believing the worst of me. How dare you!”

Her
words hit Julius like well-aimed bullets, and Michael didn’t attempt to stop the damage. Cleo had a right to defend herself because Michael heard the truth as she spoke. And apparently Julius could hear it, too, for he opened his mouth to speak, perhaps to apologize, but Cleo ranted on.

“And you? You speak of betrayal. Look at you, not dead after all. Care to explain that
, Julius? Do you want to tell me why you let me think you died all those centuries ago? Why you let me mourn you? You speak of love and fidelity. It’s obvious now you never loved me, you bastard. You used me just like Marc did. Well, I’m fucking sick of it. I can see the truth now and how I wish I’d never wasted one moment of my life pining for a love that never existed.”

Julius finally found his tongue
, and Michael could only shake his head sadly as his friend still refused to admit his mistakes. “You talk of using, and yet here you are with Michael, fucking him and then spending his money.”

He didn’t s
ay it, but the innuendo was clear,
like a whore.

With a sad expression, Cleo gazed upon Julius
as she moved to stand next to Michael, who tucked her trembling body tight to his side. “I thought I might finally make the choice of being with someone because he makes me smile. I’m not after power or prestige or even his money. I’ve had them all, and they never helped me when I hurt or cried alone. I just want to live and laugh. Is that so much to ask for?” She turned and buried her face into Michael’s chest. He held her close as her shoulders heaved and her tears dampened his chest.

Michael regarded his friend
over her head, and anyone could see he struggled. Julius open and shut his mouth, as if searching for the words to retort.

But Michael wouldn’t give
him the chance to hurt Cleo any further. With an inclination of his head, Michael pointed to the door. Hint received, Julius left the room, but not the house.

Damn.
Though Jules was a problem, Michael would deal with him later. For now he had his arms full with Cleo, who sobbed against his chest, but not for long. Her inner strength and will were unable to cave to weakness, even of the emotional kind, for long.

She pushed away from him
, and he gave her space, bracing for what would come.

“You fucking bastard. Why didn’t you warn me Julius would be here? How could you do that to me?
You knew we had history.”

“He was supposed to be abroad for another month.”
His excuse sounded lame even to his ears.

“So when were you going to tell me?”
Her accusing eyes stabbed him. “Or was this part of some sick pan of yours to humiliate me?”

“Never.”

“Really? Because you could have fooled me.”

“I would have told you, but last night the moment didn’t present itself and as for today…As I said
I didn’t expect Julius would arrive home so soon, else I would have told you or brought you to one of my other homes. You must believe me when I say I didn’t mean for you to be hurt.”

“I’m not hurt.” She lied poorly as she scrubbed at her tear
-stained face. The regal queen had been reduced to a woman like any other who’d been harmed by love. “So does he live here or something? What’s the deal?”

“Julius lives with me. He’s been my best friend and companion for several hundred years now.”

“Did—” She swallowed and taking a deep breath finished her question. “Did he ever talk about me?”

“
I knew you were involved, but he never spoke of your time together.”

“Oh.” The answer seemed to shrink her, but a moment later she found her spine and straightened again. She pasted a phony smile on her face.
“Thank you for your hospitality, but if you could have your chauffeur drop me off at a hotel, I think that would be best for all.”

Let her leave?
“No.”

“Fine then
. I’ll call a cab.”

“No.” Michael held onto his temper by a thread. He wasn’t angry with
Cleo, just the unfair situation fate had placed him in. He’d finally found the one who made him remember sunshine and happiness, and in a cruel twist, his best friend would be the reason why she left.

“I’m not staying here,” she said with her chin jutting obstinately.

“And I’m not letting you leave me.” He knew it was a stupid statement to make, one sure to prick her independent pride. He blamed it on his testosterone. His age. His ego. But the result was the same.
I’ll make it up to you I swear, but you can’t leave me.

Her back stiffened
, and her eyes turned hard. “No one, especially not a man, tells me what I can or cannot do.” She pivoted and walked out of the room.

And Michael, for the first time in his existenc
e, chased after a woman.

Torn between opposing emotion
al forces, Cleo reeled. Given the choice, she held on to her burning anger lest she drown in torturous sorrow. She stalked, unseeing for the tears in her eyes, toward the front door with no further plan than her need to leave. Escape this house and its cruel ghost from her past.
And even worse, leaving the first ounce of happiness I’ve enjoyed in forever.

Instead
of walking out the door, she walked into Michael’s broad chest.

“
You can’t leave,” he ordered, softened with a, “please.”

He blocked her way, so she stood still with her arms crossed over her chest and the new outfit she wore. A black cocktail dress that hugged her lush curves and dipped low over her cleavage.
She’d bought it and then worn it home to please him. To his credit, his eyes stayed locked to her face.

“Let me go
,” she said, having a hard time keeping her voice steady.

“No.”

Pissed at him and the whole male population in general, she tried to go around him. He easily sidled sideways blocking her path. She shoved at him. He didn’t budge.

Frustrated, the tears she’d worked so hard to hold in flow
ed down her cheeks, and suddenly it was just too much. She lost it.  Cleo pummeled and kicked at Michael, crying and cursing incoherently. He didn’t move to shield himself from any of her shots, nor did he retaliate. He simply stood and let her vent until, sobbing, she collapsed against him.

Weak. I’m so damned weak.
And because of a man.
Yet it was a man right now, a different man, a better one, who
without speaking just wrapped his arms around her tightly and held her. They stood there for a long moment before she felt her feet leave the ground. The kiss of the night air on her skin announced they’d left the house. She opened her eyes to see they were high up in the air. But she didn’t fear, not when held so securely in Michael’s arms. The sun had set, yet she could still see the pinks and purples of the sunset as it stained the sky before nightfall. It was beautiful and calming.

C
ontrol over her emotions was hers once again, and almost physically she cringed at her earlier weakness.
Talk about a major temper tantrum.
One Michael had weathered.

He flew them through the sky as the colors streaking the horizon faded and the cold brilliance of the night sky with all its starry glory appeared. He didn’t speak, and Cleo was thankful. She wasn’t sure what to say. Her mind
, her thoughts, they tumbled and whirled. She didn’t know where to start—or what to feel.

Eventually they landed
, not on a rooftop with a city view, but by the edge of a lake. In the midst of wilderness, the water and its shore were unsullied.

Michael stamped down a bower for them in the tall grass and sat cross
-legged. He beckoned her to sit, and when she hesitated, he dragged her down, settling her in his lap, facing outward, his arms wrapped around her in a loose hug.

Cleo gazed at the lake
with the fat three-quarter moon reflecting in its surface. Around them, silence reigned as the forest recognized the predators come among them.
Beware for I am here and not in a good mood.

As
Cleo fiddled with the hem of her dress, she waited for him to say something. The silence grew. “I’m sorry I hit you.” It was the best opener she could think of.

“I deserved it. I am so sorry I did not tell you of my houseguest. I never wanted to do anything that would hurt you
, and one day later, I’ve already failed miserably.”

A
sigh deflated her. “It’s not your fault. I thought Julius was dead. And even with everything that happened to me after his supposed death, I never expected he’d hate me so much.”

“I never knew either. He never spoke of you or his time in Egypt. He’s not to
o keen on remembering the past.”

She couldn’t help her curiosity.
“What happened to him?

It was Michael’s turn to sigh. “I’m not sure if it’s my place to say.
But perhaps the knowledge will help you understand why he is so bitter now.” Michael paused as if collecting his thoughts. “Julius didn’t quite die as everyone believed, obviously. He was changed into a vampire by a sadistic vampiress. She changed him then drugged him so he wouldn’t wake. She allowed his family to entomb him. But she didn’t fetch him right away. She let him wake, alone in his tomb, crazed with blood lust. When she eventually came for him, he was a beast with the instincts of a killer. He went on a killing rampage through the countryside. He came to his senses, bathed in the blood of a family, all killed by him down to the youngest child. Only then did she fetch him and bring him back to her abode. She experimented on him, using forbidden magic that returned his youth to him, but left him a changed man. He became a toy for her, one which she performed depraved acts on. She also waged a mental war, feeding him lies that made him hate all he’d loved in his past, twisting his emotions and taking from him every solace.”