Immortally Theirs (5 page)

Their grunts grew in volume. The tightness in her belly started to come undone. She should be sad that this was the last time to be with them, but instead she milked it with everything she had. It felt so damn good. Most women could only fantasize about two immaculate lovers. She had the real thing.

“Scream it, love,” Armand pleaded.

Despite the ache in her legs and the kink in her side, she let them take her body until she couldn’t hold it in anymore.

“Yes. I’m going to come right the fuck now.”

She screamed their names as they simultaneously climaxed.

Shayla
crumpled forward into Armand with Bastian’s arms draped over her back. Her body jolted every few seconds and made her gasp.

She refused to let this be the last time. She pulled away from their stronghold and stood with her hands on her hips.

“You are incredible. As lovers, as friends, and as men,” she started. “I want you both as part of my life. What we’ve shared during this time has been amazing. You’ve helped me through some difficult times in my life. It’s your love, compassion and kindness that give me strength.”

“You can’t be serious,”
Armand
quipped. “You must choose one of us.”

She waved her hand. “Impossible. It’s not something that I can do.”

Bastian kissed her shoulder. “Don’t be afraid of the unknown. Embrace it. Whoever you choose will make you a very happy bride.”

Unreal.
They were so damn stubborn. “You claim my happiness is your first priority. Is that a lie?”

“Of course not.
I’ve never lied to you,” Bastian stated.

Armand shook his head. “It’s not something I could ever do.”

“I can’t be happy picking only one of you. If I can’t have you both, then I’ll be unhappy the rest of my life.”

Armand’s lips curled back. “It’s been hell dealing with him for a year. He’s an enemy to my coven. I can’t possibly do it for an eternity.”

“I hate to agree with anything he says,” Bastian added, “but the feeling is mutual.”

They were so immature. So hell-bent on which one was the right man for her that they couldn’t see the obvious.

“Don’t you understand? You are the perfect opposites for me. You are my sweet and—”

“Sour,” interrupted Armand.
“Me being sweet, of course.”

She frowned. “No, spice is what I was going to say. You’re my night and day.
My cream and sugar.
My internal balance.
The point is, together you make up the perfect lover. You satisfy me, as one, to a point I’ve never reached before. I crave the idea of being your woman. To have the love of two committed and sensual lovers who have been so devoted and attentive to me. I can’t imagine not having your bodies beside me.”

Bastian groaned.
“But, him of all vampires?
What if I introduced you to another member of my coven?
There are plenty of other lovers to
be had
. Far less conceited might I add.”

She crossed her arms and narrowed her glance. “No.”

“It isn’t fair to ask me to deal with someone I loathe forever,” Armand scoffed.

“I didn’t find your request fair, either,” she countered. “It has caused me nothing but heartache and distress. Both or none at all—but
hear
this: if you choose none, I will grow old alone. I will die alone. And I’ll die with a broken heart. You’ll have only yourselves to blame.”

“Great, you’ve picked up Armand’s flair for drama,” Bastian said dryly.

“And
your
stubbornness,” she concluded. “I’ll let you think about what I’ve said.”

“That won’t take long.”

Shayla
folded her arms. “I’m serious. I want you both. Try to find a way to deal with it or find a way to say goodbye. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to make myself something to eat.”

She walked down the hallway and headed to the kitchen. Between the hot sex and the
heated
argument, she’d worked up an appetite. To her surprise, they didn’t chase after her. She imagined them still standing there with their jaws to the floor, beside themselves with what she said. Adrenaline surged through her entire body. She’d never made the decisions before. For once, she felt in control and empowered.

As she entered the kitchen,
Shayla
noticed a bitter chill hung in the air. Looking around, she didn’t see any open windows to explain it. Too hungry to investigate further, she opened the refrigerator and scanned the nearly bare shelves. Cheese would have to suffice.

She reached for a package when a deep tone resonated around the house, vibrating the floorboards.
Shayla
straightened up quickly and closed the fridge.
What the hell
was that?
She called out to Bastian and Armand, but
her voice was drowned out by a downpour that beat against the windows
.
Great, a storm.
She hated storms. The lights flickered a few times and she decided to forgo the hunger pangs.

As she reentered the foyer, the wind howled and blew debris underneath the door. The lights flickered again and sent goose bumps across her flesh. Her house was scary enough during the daytime, but during a storm, it frightened her even more.

She hurried up the stairs to grab the brass candleholder from her bedroom. Before her foot hit the last step, the electricity went out and enveloped her in darkness. Save for soft light that spilled out from under the doorway of the study.

Just ignore it
, she ordered herself, but her curiosity won out.

Breath held, she walked forward at a tentative pace and rested her hand around the knob.

It’s just a room
, she reminded herself.
There’s no reason to be afraid.

She opened the door a crack and peeked inside. At once, she relaxed. The candles inside the wall sconces were lit and flickering.

“Armand?
Bastian?
What are you imps up to now?” They must have known the storm would make her uneasy. She’d never told them how the room itself made her uncomfortable, but she appreciated their attempt to calm her.

She walked a couple steps further into the room. Despite the candles, there was a noticeable draft that differed from the other rooms of the house.
Shayla
paused at the window to look out when a flurry of crows appeared, their wings fluttering hard against the window—so hard she worried the glass would break. Candles or not, the room freaked her out and she just wanted to get the hell out of there.

A triple flash of lightning brightened up the room momentarily, long enough for her to notice something different about the portrait. A slow scream started from her gut. The portrait of a man’s face that had always frightened her was gone. The canvas was blank. Shivers raked her back and made the fine hairs on her neck rise. Another batch of lightning illuminated the room followed by rolling thunder that she felt in her core.

Strange movement from the corner of the room drew her gaze. She watched the curtain billow and then a face press into it. With a gasp, she made a run for the door. Before she reached it, the door slammed shut. The lock clicked, its sound of finality making her entire body tremble.

From behind her a low gravelly voice whispered, “You’re mine, all mine.”

Chapter Four

Armand continued to pace around the house. Inside the ballroom, he observed Bastian looking deep in thought. “What are you doing in here?”

“Reflecting.”

“About what?”

“The past year.
Shayla
.
This house.”
His voice was low and listless.

“Sounds serious.
I’ll leave.”

Armand went to turn when Bastian gripped his shoulder. “Wait. We need to talk.”

“Oh?”

“I’m concerned about
Shayla
.”

And he wasn’t? “I share your concern.”

“It kills me to see her in so much pain.”

“I don’t like it either.”

“That pain is solely because of us. We’re to blame for her unhappiness.”

Armand sighed. “She was unhappy when she first came here. We helped bring her out of her shell.”

“And since then we’ve become the source of her unhappiness,” Bastian reasoned. “Ever since we asked her to choose between us she has started to withdraw.”

He’d seen it too, but felt helpless in how to help. “I’ve already tried things your way and that didn’t work. What else do you suggest? And don’t you dare say we should choose for her.”

Bastian gave him a grim look. “That isn’t what I’m saying.”

“Look, her happiness means the world to me, but what other choice do we have? She can’t have us both. This is her choice to make and hers alone. We can’t toy with her emotions.”

Bastian nodded. “I agree.”

“I only feel bad because you’ll have to deal with the outcome. And here I was ready to become friends with you.” He realized it came out more pompous than planned, but it was too late to take it back.

“Right.”
Bastian ran a hand through his hair. “We tolerate each other, nothing more. I don’t know what her choice will be, and for the moment, I don’t even care. I’m asking you to back off. Don’t make this more difficult for her. I can’t stand the pain it’s causing her.”

Armand felt punched in the gut. “You back off. I came to her first.”

“Only because you do everything in a brash manner, while I have tact.”

“No, you have poor timing,” he spat. “You’re weak and waste time mulling things over.”

“I’m not here to fight you, only to make it easier for her.”

“You couldn’t fight if you wanted to,” Armand challenged.

Bastian chortled. “You know I have the upper hand. You don’t have experience with swords, so it would be an unfair fight.”

“Sword or not, it doesn’t mean I can’t fight.”

“If you want to have a go, I’m ready.”

Armand couldn’t believe that they hadn’t
duked
it out earlier. Now on the last day before one of them would be chosen, Bastian wanted to
fight?

“Here,” he asked incredulously.
“Right now?”

“Unless you’re afraid.”

That little remark really set him off. “Sounds like the best invitation I’ve had in centuries. But we’ll fight with fists not swords.”

“Fine.
I’ll still win.”

Armand got into a warrior stance, his fists in front of his face, knees bent.

Bastian swung first and Armand went down.

“You asshole,” he groaned. “That’s going to leave a mark”

* * * *

Shayla
tried the doorknob but it wouldn’t open.

Damn
, she cursed.

“
Shaaaylaaa
,” the creaky voice moaned.

She turned, her eyes darting all around.

“Who’s there? What do you want?”

The face moved along the curtain until the ghost of a man appeared.
An older man with eyes that pierced straight through her.
She was certain she’d seen him before. When she figured out from where, her blood ran ice cold. He was the man from the portrait.

“What do I want? I want
you
,
Shayla
.”

A lump formed in her throat, making it difficult to swallow. “Who are you?”

“Someone who wants to take away all the sadness that surrounds you. I’ve waited for you.
Watched you.
And now I finally have you all to myself.”

His deep voice vibrated through her stomach. Bile crept up her throat.

The ghost moved toward her at a languid pace. A thin, dark smile bowed his lips. He smelled of death and something else—evil was the first thing to come to mind, though she didn’t know what evil smelt like.

Her lips quivered. “I-I think you have the wrong person.”

“No. I don’t. I studied your pictures for years. I memorized each line of your angelic face and every scintillating curve of your body. You’re even more stunning in person.”

What was he talking
about
? “What pictures?”

“The ones your parents kept in an old album on my desk.” He motioned with his chin. “I listened to them talk about you. Listened to your mother cry over your absence and wish you’d come to visit. I knew you were special and it was time to bring you back here.”

Her throat tightened. She reached behind her and blindly tried the knob again. “I don’t understand. You’re a ghost. How did you bring me back here?”

“Through your mother’s letters.”