My Immortal (28 page)

With a hungry growl he bent forward, his eyes closed like sweet sexual release as he pierced her young,
sweet flesh. The pain was sharp and yet surreal as she melted against him. The warmth of her blood rushed from her body, passing her life into his. She was instantly paralyzed, quite literally frozen to the spot. She couldn’t even scream. He sucked the very breath from her lungs.

Color faded to black and white as the chaos around her home muted to a low hum in her ears. She felt death overtake her from the tips of her fingers and toes and creep up her body until her steady heartbeat slowed to a stop. By then the sharp fangs in her neck
didn’t even hurt. She felt nothing at all. She was hollow. Her body was nothing more than a shell her soul no longer inhabited.

Her last thought was of Nicholas, of being wrapped naked in his arms. Sweet black nothingness spared her from his final betrayal. That would be
Nicholai’s curse alone, to remember long, long afterward.

CHAPTER S
EVENTEEN

Michael knocked on
Dani’s door, and she was quick to stash the black book under her blankets. She had a ready smile for him as he entered her room. The setting sun cast a bright orange glow against the stark white walls of the room.

“
Hey kiddo,” Michael greeted with a peck on her forehead before perching himself on the edge of her bed.

“
Hi, Father Mike.”

He
couldn’t bring himself to correct the way she addressed her. He was a Father no more. All he could do was return her sunny happy smile. It was how every child should look. And by God, this one was going to stay that way. However Dani was a perceptive child and could tell at once something was wrong. “Where’s Adele?” she asked with a sinking feeling at the bottom of her stomach.

“
You know our Adele.” Even Michael didn’t want to think about where she was. Or worse. Who she was with. The child did not look convinced so Michael added, “She’s fine.”

“
But?” Dani asked.

He plastered a phony smile on his face.
“But nothing.”

She
wasn’t convinced. Neither was he. He sighed. “All right. You caught me. I’m busted. Adele is okay, but she does need us to be strong for her right now. So you have to say your prayers and send her all your love.”

Dani nodded.
“The monster is going after her, isn’t he?”

Michael
didn’t know what to say. How could he dispel the myth of monsters now when she’d very nearly been killed by one? He just put his hand on top of her small one and assured her, “I’m not going to let anything happen to her. I promise.”

“
People can’t always keep their promises,” she reminded him.

“
I’ll keep this. But you gotta promise me something too.”

She nodded. Anything.

He pulled something from his jacket and handed it to her. It was a package, tied up tight. “This is for Adele, in case you see her before I do. Tell her it’s a present from Vincent.”

“
Who’s Vincent?” Dani asked as she handled the package carefully.

“
Family,” he said cryptically. “Can you do this for me, Dani?”

She nodded. He kissed her again on her forehead.
“I love you, little one,” he whispered against her skin. He started to leave and Dani called out for him, thrusting back her covers, hopping off the bed and throwing herself into his arms. They both fought back tears from the unspoken goodbye. When finally Michael wrenched himself away he could not even bear to look back at the child he feared he’d never see again.

Across town in
Adele’s tiny living room Nicholas faced the setting sun just outside her window. Only it wasn’t an angry red sunset he was seeing. Just like Adele who dozed fitfully, cradled in his arms, he had turned back the pages of time to remember.

He remembered that day when
he’d ridden up to the castle after a torturous night of regret sending her away. He planned to march right up to King Desislav and tell him that their love was non-negotiable. They would marry, and if that meant Nicholai would have to kill Thaddeus, then that was acceptable to him. He couldn’t stand those long moments that ticked by, silence mocking him from the other side of the bed. It was a place Natasha never should have left. They needed no papers to marry, in his heart he’d been bonded to her since the very first moment they met.

Her violet eyes reminded him of another time he couldn’t quite remember. A past that couldn’t have possibly belonged to him danced just outside of his memory. The minute they touched he couldn’t tell where she ended and he began. They were two parts of one whole from even before they were born.

A tear slipped down Nicholas’s face as he remembered the scene that awaited him as he rounded the final turn to the castle. The bewildered servants that had survived the bloody revolt the night before wandered about, lost and disconcerted. The fires in the castle had been put out, but it was obvious the majority of it had been gutted as the countrymen, aided by forces from outside their borders, violently overthrew King Desislav.

Nicholai stumbled toward the castle, holding flowers in his hand. They were roses,
Natasha’s favorite. He had brought them as a peace offering, to help him apologize profusely for hurting her the night before. Only now he gripped them so tightly the thorns speared into his palms as he raced toward the castle, a feeling of dread gnawing at the pit of his stomach.

Several of the family had already been laid out in wooden coffins on the lawn. The King
lay, his throat cut, his eyes frozen open forever to the last horrible moment of his life. The Queen was blissfully covered, hiding the evidence of how brutally she was violated. Under the hand of death she seemed to sleep so peacefully, spared the heinous way the men of the town violated her before her blissful demise.

Nicholai ran across the lawn, finding the bodies of the children in
the other boxes. He watched as two burly men carried a dark haired woman’s body toward the final coffin. The long white streak of hair was unmistakable. Angrily Nicholai assaulted one of the men, twice his size, punching him square in the jaw so that he’d release Natasha from his careless arms. The man stumbled backward. When he recovered his footing he rushed Nicholai, but the other man grabbed his arm and gave him a stern look. He shook his head and the other man retreated without incident, leaving Nicholai to drop to his knees beside her lifeless body. Stems of crushed roses surrounded them both. Rain began to fall, splashing against her motionless face. Her eyes were shut and would never open again.

He gathered her up into his arms,
an angry wail of disbelief echoed off of the trees that hung mournfully nearby. He brushed back her hair, caressing her pale face as he sobbed openly, not caring who might see. His heart had shattered and each piece escaped from his eyes, blinding him with tears that poured upon her sweet, beautiful face.

He clutched her to him, remembering how she felt, warm and tender
around him the night before – right before he broke her heart and sent her running into the inky black night. He howled in anguish as her arms remained still at her side, never again to slide around his neck. He drew into her, laying his head against her chest where her heart beat no more. Indeed she was hollow. He kissed her blue lips, wishing he could pour all of his life’s breath into her body, wishing he’d been there the night before to lay his life down so that she might live.

All the pain
he’d caused her had been in vain. That monster had killed her anyway. Only now she had died thinking that Nicholai no longer loved her. His heart rattled against the steel cold bars of regret that slammed shut on his soul.

His large hand caressed her cheek, his fingers memorizing every curve of her face. He wanted every moment back, every missed opportunity to let her know he loved her, every kiss that was thought about but not acted upon. He wanted last night back, to hold her in his arms and keep her safe from all harm. To become one with her body and soul so that no one, no one in
heaven or hell, could ever split them apart.

Instead she died alone, thinking that he
didn’t want her. Now he wanted nothing but.

When at last his sorrow was reduced to a steady stream of bitter tears, he lifted her up and carried her to her final resting place. The cold, plain wooden box that was not fit to carry her clothes, much less her earthly remains. But the castle had been looted and all their riches were gone, in her death she had become just like the people who had grown to hate h
er for her full-figured and regal beauty, and for her spirit that was meant for greatness.

As Nicholas laid her in the box, the scarf wrapped around her neck fell loose. It was then Nicholai saw the two angry red puncture marks buried in the middle of a large purple and green bruise on her skin. His blood ran cold. Every myth and legend that surrounded their country and its murky forest jumped into his mind. He quickly dismissed it as complete nonsense. Her death had been anything but mysterious
. Her whole family had been massacred, and he knew exactly by whom.

He covered the injury with the scarf, kissed her once more and found the strength to leave her side. As he stumbled back toward his mount,
Natasha’s hand maiden approached him. From her apron she produced two things: Natasha’s ruby engagement ring and a red box that contained her royal tiara. He did not ask how she spared these valuable pieces, but could tell from her face it had cost her deeply. It was her final gift to Natasha, who had always been so kind to her. She could not spare the Princess's life, but she could spare her most treasured pieces.

The young girl was in tears as she bowed briefly before running away to grie
ve for her mistress in private.

Nicholai watched her go, clutching the two precious gifts to his chest.

He would have cried, but just like Natasha he was hollow inside. And he remained that way until the night when his eyes first met Adele’s in that press conference two hundred years later.

Nicholas sighed as he looked down at Adele, who twitched and moaned in her sleep. He reached out to touch the face he thought
he’d never see again. Here she was again in his lap, her body warm, her heart beating, her soul having found its way back to him. It was a moment his heart had waited for, through thousands of sleepless nights. Centuries of longing were fulfilled the very moment he looked into her familiar face. He knew each time that he had held her as Adele that they had been moments stolen from the greedy grasp of death. He sighed as he wondered how long they would have before the clock struck midnight again.

He held her closer, knowing better than
all those years ago. These moments were to be cherished so that they would never be forgotten. He would not reject her again. And he would cherish her with his whole life as long as Fate allowed.

CHAPTER
EIGHTEEN

That first day after Natasha had died, Nicholai could not stay away from her resting place. To be close to her earthly remains brought him comfort. Buried under a mo
und of cold Earth she was alone. He hated leaving her there, especially since he cursed her to that solitary fate. When a storm came that first night, trying to drive him from where he lay, as close to her as he could possibly get, he would not move. He lay there, his soul crying out for her as the rain beat upon his back where he slumped across her grave, holding her ring in an iron grip. Let the storm rage, let the lightning burn the whole damn forest down. If dying meant he could be with her again, that was fine by him. He closed his eyes to the painful existence his life had become and prayed to open them to see her, arms outstretched, welcoming him into heaven. And he knew it would be heaven, for she would be there.

When his eyes opened again it was to another sunrise without his beloved Natasha
. He pulled to his feet and in doing so noticed something he hadn’t noticed before. There were footprints that walked right up to where he lay on the ground. His brow furrowed as he glanced back up to the castle where those footsteps now led.

He had run into the castle then, charging through the empty, burned out ruins.
“Show your face!” he shouted as he ran from room to room. When he got to Natasha’s private suite, he was shocked to find her wedding gown, spread out on her bed, somehow spared from the chaos and destruction of the night before. It lay there, waiting for her as though she would return.

He fell to his knees in front of it, his hand gingerly tracing the lace trim, the soft satiny material slipping through his
fingers. It lay flat on the bed; it would never know the full curves of her body. His eyes burned with tears as he was reminded of her soft bare body pressed up to his the night he threw her out of his bed.

His heart
couldn’t take the immense weight of his regret and he jumped to his feet and ran from the castle. He didn’t stop running until he hit the stream that separated her father's land with the rest of the community scattered through the surrounding hills.