Fateful 2-Fractured (34 page)

“Now what are we going to do?” she asked as
she slid the washcloth over his chalky skin.

He rocked his head back onto her shoulder.
“Today, I think would be a fine day to spend in bed,” he mumbled
weakly.

“And then what?” She wondered if he could
hear the guilt tainting her tone.

“Then tonight, I’ll make sure we’re both
well-fed and then the next day, we’ll go back to London.”

“But my parents—?”

“Oh, yes. They’re expected for dinner
tomorrow.”

“We can’t miss that.”

“I agree.”

“Will they notice?”

“No, but we’ll need them to come earlier so
we can get them out of the house before the sun sets. Then we’ll go
to London.”

She knew, he meant they’d go back to London
so he could plan a visit to Benjamin.

And, apparently he knew what she was
thinking without needing to read her features. “This has to end,
Danielle. We can’t let it go on. Do you really think they’ll stop
hunting you now that you’re one of them?”

Well, she was hoping….

He went on, “It won’t stop them, and even if
they can’t kill you as easily now, they’ll just wait until you go
back to being mortal. Then where will we be?”

“In the same spot we’re in now.”

A distressing thought occurred to her.
“Could we have prevented this had we not gone shopping?”

Ethan exhaled and shook his head. “I doubt
it. They probably would have just advanced on the house, and with
Dorin working with them, I’m surprised they waited as long as they
did.”

Chapter 22

The First Vampire

“Danielle! You look wonderful! Being married
agrees with you,” sang her mother as Danielle was tugged into a
warm hug.

“Welcome. I hope you both like fish,” Ethan
said.

“A boy after my own heart,” replied her
father with a slap on his son-in-law’s back.

James entered next, took Danielle by the
hand and turned her in a circle, his gaze looking for…. “I see no
bruises. Either he’s good at hiding them or he’s taking good care
of her.”

“James!”

“Are you happy, big sister? Now be
honest.”

She laughed. “Of course I am! Ethan’s like a
dream—”

“Whoa, there, Danielle. Too much
information.”

Everyone laughed, as James pulled a funny
face and strode past them into the living room.

Internally, Danielle was freaking out. She
felt naked, as though they may be able to see the fact that she was
immortal instead of mortal. Because of this, she hung to the back,
trying to avoid their natural perusing.

* * * * *

“Brilliant fish, Ethan,” said Nadia, who’d
also joined them for dinner.

“The pudding is quite lovely as well,” added
Danielle’s father.

Poor Max was moving a mouthful of pudding
around his mouth with an expression that said he didn’t think it
was so lovely.

Ethan was eating, putting on a great mortal
act, while Danielle was struggling to do the same. She knew he’d
made something she would have liked had she not also been cursed.
But while it all smelled divine, it tasted bland, like eating
flavorless texture.

“Ethan, I didn’t know you were such a good
cook. And what a nice English style meal. I know Tom has been
missing the food from back home,”

Tom, Danielle’s dad, nodded as he forked up
another mouthful of pudding.

Her mom continued, “Danielle said you went
to culinary school?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“What do you do for a living, Ethan? Do you
work as a chef?”

“No, ma’am.”

Danielle eyed her husband wondering how he
might answer this. She knew whatever it was would either be a
boldfaced lie or a creative twist on the truth.

He swallowed, and said, “I’m a writer.”

“Really? What do you write?”

His mouth quirked into a smirk. “Vampire
romance,” he said.

Danielle choked on a green bean.

Ethan patted her back gently. “Max is also a
writer,” he went on. “He’s published several history books on the
Order of the Garter.”

Eyeing Max, she suspected it was true. It
was Ethan she wondered about. Was her husband truly a romance
writer, or was that just another one of his skilled fibs? Many
times she honestly didn’t know because he was so good at it.

“I was obsessed with knights as a boy,” Max
said, cutting his fish into such small pieces that she figured he
meant to hide it under his pudding rather than actually eat it.
“Hence, I did enough research to write about it.”

Danielle remained withdrawn for the rest of
the evening as the others sipped tea, ate teacakes and conversed,
telling jokes and teasing Ethan about writing romance. He took it
all in stride, said he enjoyed it, and she began to wonder if
perhaps he really had worked as a writer for a while. She certainly
knew he’d had time for it.

“Relax, honey, you look exactly the same,”
Ethan whispered into her ear.

But James and her mother were watching every
move she made like a pair of owls. It was true they hadn’t seen her
since she’d married, and she didn’t know exactly what they were
checking for, but she was about to crawl out of her skin worrying
she may give something away.

And she wanted to burst into tears when her
mother pulled her aside and asked quietly if she was expecting.
Mom’s pretty blue eyes danced with grandmotherly longing and hope,
which Danielle had to extinguish. “Sorry, Mom, you’re not a
grandmother yet.”

Patting her on the shoulder, Mom sighed and
then moved to collect another one of the little cakes Ethan had
made.

Danielle made for the bathroom, hoping they
wouldn’t notice her hasty escape. She felt sick to her stomach.
Sadly the queasiness wasn’t from pregnancy, and wasn’t from food,
but from sheer nervousness, and from the deep upset over the
reminder of her loss. She’d wanted so badly to spend time with her
family when she’d moved back to Colorado, and now, she just wanted
them all to leave. They had no idea their daughter and sister had
been pregnant, had been forced into hiding because she was the
center of a civil war, and then been stabbed, only to be
resurrected as a cursed being.

She realized as she sank to the floor and
buried her hands in her face that her departure had been noticed
when a soft knock sounded at the door. “I’ll be out in a moment,”
she called out not wanting whoever it was to see her tears.

“What’s wrong?” came Ethan’s voice.

For him, she rose from the floor and
opened the door. “Only
everything
…” she said, letting him take her into
his arms.

* * * * *

Danielle pressed her hand to the cool
airplane window as they returned to London. This was the second
time she’d looked upon this city from this view but now it seemed
so different. Perhaps it was because she had a different
perspective and, in truth, was a very different person from the
terrified young woman who’d set out to simply attend art
school.

A sense of terror still sat heavily in
her stomach, but obviously for different reasons. She couldn’t help
but wonder,
What next?
They’d
had their baby ripped from them, and now even their mortality had
been stolen from not just him, but both of them. Images of a mortal
Ethan haunted her thoughts. She’d liked him that way. He’d been
more insecure in a way that had been sort of adorable. And those
glasses ... the poor guy had bad eyesight and she found it so human
and so sexy when he pushed them up the bridge of his nose when they
slid.

He held her hand now, his thumb gliding over
the back of her knuckles and fingers, back and forth. Lifting her
lashes, Danielle looked at him and was lost in those blue eyes of
his as he sensed her gaze and turned to face her. She always got
lost in that gaze. Mortal or immortal that part hadn’t changed,
though it was different somehow now that they were both cursed. Not
in a bad way really, just ... she had no idea how to explain
it.

The plane landed. She dropped her free hand
to her lap, the cooled flesh heating against the warmer fabric of
her skirt. Ethan stood as soon as the plane came to a stop, his
hand leaving hers.

Moments later, while still staring out
through the glass, Danielle heard, “It’s time to leave, Mrs.
Deveroux.” The prince spoke.

She ignored him with her gaze instead going
to Ethan who’d been gathering their bags from the overhead
compartment. Grabbing onto the back of the seat in front of her,
she pulled to standing and moved toward her husband. Richard
silently moved out of her way but she could sense him following
close behind, just as the rest of their guards did.

* * * * *

They weren’t allowed to go home but were
whisked along swiftly to Order headquarters, or rather, Beon’s bed
and breakfast. The guards had remained on high alert and she
wondered how much trouble could she still be in if she was cursed
just like the rest of them now.

After buttoning a shirt and then tugging it
down over her tank top, Danielle muttered, “Why are they still so
concerned? I thought I was safe now. Or safer,” she added when
Ethan raised an eyebrow at her first comment.

“I’ve been told they haven’t stopped hunting
us and their numbers have grown to insane proportions. We’re
incredibly outnumbered.”

She reached for the hiking boots after
pulling on her socks. Wondering why the guards had informed Ethan
of this and not her, she asked, “Why are we dressing for a hike?
Are we going camping?”

Ethan met her gaze and then looked away as
he laced up his own boots. He was apparently deep in thought,
Danielle realized as she watched emotion etch lines of stress in
his expression. Uncertainty and even worry were the ones she
recognized first. When his eyes returned to hers, she saw something
else before he said, “We’re going to see Benjamin and then Lilith
if we can find her.” She recognized it now—determination.

Still she doubted. “How can this help?” she
paused with laces held tightly in fisted fingers. “What if the
first vampire is on their side?” He certainly could be, she thought
but didn’t say. What if he liked what he was? Liked the benefits.
And Lilith, it was her curse they’d broken. Could she be angry
about this too? The witch could likely curse them into something
even worse than vampires....

Ethan had finished off tying and was now
leaning forward, his forehead resting against one palm. “We can
only hope ... and try.”

“That’s all you’ve got? Hope? Ethan—”

With one swift move, Ethan had her in his
lap, snatching her next set of questions with the sudden change.
Warm fingers moved along the side of her face from temple to jaw.
His spicy, tangy scent surrounded her, enchanting her, even if it
no longer had the power to entrance her being cursed just as he
was. “Yes, hope.” His palm captured her face, forcing eye contact
to remain. “Where is your faith, Danielle? I have a good feeling
about this. I need you to trust me.”

His thumb moved along her cheek and
then over her lips. Still, the loving gesture couldn’t comfort her
heart completely. “I trust
you
, silly. It’s them I don’t trust. Some
ancient vampire and a bitter witch—”

“Sorceress. There’s a difference. Never
trust a witch.”

Danielle laughed at that and kissed Ethan on
the nose, snuggling closer. “How would I know if I’ve even met a
witch?”

Leaning further back into the settee, Ethan
pushed his legs out a bit further from the edge, giving her more
lap to sit on. “They always wear black.”

She threw her head back and laughed.

Ethan’s mouth was curved with a knowing
smirk and she suspected he was only teasing her now. Jerk, she
wanted some serious answers. “What was that for?” he asked right
after she slugged him in the shoulder.

“For mocking me!”

The smirk left his face. “I may be flirting
with you, sweet, but I’m completely serious about what they
wear.”

“You can’t be—”

“Oh, but I am.”

She thought about this longer while toying
with the shaggy bits of hair just brushing over his collar, then
asked, “So, does that mean that one girl in high school who always
wore black and lined her eyes with a thick line of black eyeliner
was a witch?”

“I rather doubt it.”

“But you just said—”

With his mouth landing firmly on hers,
Danielle couldn’t argue any longer. Suspicions that this was just
another one of his very skilled distractions rolled through her
mind. But as his mouth moved over hers, as his tongue searched for
hers in a dance that tasted like Ethan and not food, she caved in
and went with it. The rotten scoundrel....

Hooking his thumb into a loop on her jeans
as Ethan captured her waist, he then led her to the drawing room,
where the others were waiting.

Three of the men sat on the sofa, all
leaning forward. Beon sat in the middle with Max to his right and
Richard to his left. His fingers were busy tapping at the keyboard
of a laptop on the coffee table. The one standing, though also bent
forward so he could see, was Seth. He blocked most of her view of
the computer screen. Moving closer and peering past shoulders she
could see it was a satellite image of a mountainous area.

Pointing at a part of the mountain range,
Seth said, “He lives here. We think.”

“We’ll search the entire area if we have
to.” That was Richard.

“The odds are dismal now. Richard, you’ve
been in this position, how did you win that battle—?”

Danielle knew which battle Beon was talking
about, the one where he’d managed to win against fifty-thousand
with only ten-thousand men. It’s why everyone had thought Richard
would make such a great king, if only he hadn’t died before he had
the chance. And now it was part of why they’d asked him to join
their order. Or perhaps it was the main reason.