Reawakening (3 page)

He cared for Damian, Devon and Circo in his own twisted way, but it still wasn’t the same as it could have been had his heart not been ripped out five hundred, sixty years ago. They were loyal friends that had been through thick and thin and yet … yet he’d kept this a secret from them all.

None of them had any idea he’d lost his Moira, as that’d happened well before they knew each other. It was still too painful to talk about, let alone think about, yet that’s all he’d done in the last one hundred and twenty hours. He couldn’t even escape it in sleep. Embarrassingly, he’d even had to flee Dev’s before they could discuss Geoffrey and that was not at all like him, but he had to get his fucked up head on straight first.

He was a rock. He was swift, decisive and always calm. He was a problem solver, but he had to admit this one stumped him. If his friends could see him now … well, that’s why he’d had to get the hell out of there before he slipped and shared something he wasn’t yet ready to. Making the excuse that an emergency came up, he begged his leave and flashed back home, assuring them he’d reschedule soon. Which he had yet to do.

He’d vacillated between memories of Seraphina and the realness of Sarah. The similarities between them were uncanny. But was he simply twisting faded memories into his own version of reality? He’d spent days trying to convince himself he’d merely overreacted with Sarah, but he
knew
that to be untrue. His cock violently ached for her and the lure of her blood was nearly unbearable even thousands of miles away. Adjusting his perpetual hard on, he let his mind drift once again to his agonizing past.

1 June, 1452

Tonight was Romaric’s fifth visit with Seraphina and he hoped it would be his last before she finally agreed to be his. He’d spotted her in a village north of Esme’s home. Esme was a regular and generous donor, but he frequently looked for fresh flesh and new blood. A vampire had to keep his options open, after all. It would do him no good to lead a human female into believing she had a ‘forever’ kind of chance with him and he’d seen too much longing in Esme’s eyes, so he’d promptly left her bed and scouted other possibilities.

He couldn’t believe his luck when he’d spotted Seraphina walking down a dark dirt road, alone. As he approached quietly from behind, his initial thought was ‘foolish female’ and although he’d intended no harm, as he didn’t kill his donors, there were surely others that would readily take advantage of such a young, beautiful, vulnerable girl.

But one look in her golden brown eyes would change everything. He’d found his Moira, his Destiny, and her name was Seraphina. At a mere eighty-years old, he couldn’t believe his luck at finding his Moira so young in life. He hadn’t even come into his full vampiric powers yet, for that didn’t happen until age one hundred. The few vampires he knew back in his homeland hadn’t found their Moira’s until hundreds of years into their lives.

While the physical attraction with your Moira was strong, almost irresistible, it wasn’t always easy to convince her to bond, leaving behind her family and life as she knew it. ‘Twas the challenge he’d faced with Seraphina. As the eldest in a family of nine children, her mother and father relied heavily upon her. Seraphina was waffling in her decision. He’d convinced her ties didn’t need to be cut immediately. They’d transition into their life gradually, but that, in no uncertain terms, she was to be with him. To bond with him and be his in every way.

He thirsted for both her body and blood and tonight he would have both. She was to meet him this eve on the outskirts of her village, shortly before dark. He was loath to let her wander alone, but she’d refused him to meet at her home. Hiding his vampiric skills was crucial in order to blend with humans, which meant no flashing, so he was forced to wait on the outskirts. But a fool he was not. He knew where she lived and kept a watchful eye.

Several minutes past dusk now, he was getting anxious when he spotted her in the distance. It had been a rather warm day, but as the sun set, the temperature cooled and his Moira wasn’t properly dressed wearing only a thin, flimsy blouse. He would make sure she was properly clothed and fed when she became his.

Rushing them into the woods, Romaric peeled off the long sleeve wool shirt he’d worn specifically with Seraphina in mind and slipped it over her head. She was petite and it swallowed her whole, coming nearly to her knees. Once they were enough distance away for his comfort, he backed her up against a large oak tree. The leaves and foliage would provide them well enough coverage, while his keen hearing would sense any interlopers.

“Hello,” he whispered against her lips. Lips he’d only had the pleasure of kissing twice, for she’d refused until three nights past. Last eve he’d enjoyed a most realistic erotic dream starring Seraphina, who was expertly riding his cock, as he directed her movements with his hands. How he longed for that dream to be real.

“Hello back.” Her breaths were labored, like she’d run a mile to get to him. Maybe she had. Maybe she was as desperate for him as he was for her.

“Are you feeling well? You’re warm.”

“Yes I am well. I rushed and your shirt is rather heavy.”

He was thankful. Medical care was scarce and humans died regularly and easily from vile diseases. He was staying far away from Europe these days, as the stink of death due to Black Plague was toxic.

He easily lifted her slight frame and her legs wrapped firmly around his waist. This brought her mouth level with his. As leverage, he rested her back against the rough bark, hoping his shirt protected her fair skin. He took her mouth in a gentle, soft kiss. Taking her face between his hands, he deepened it and they both groaned their mutual desire.

He couldn’t help how his body responded to her breathy moans. Hips thrusting of their own accord, his hard shaft was surely digging into her center. She put her small hands on his shoulders and when he hoped she’d pull him closer, she pushed him away instead.

“Romaric, stop. Please.”

Resting his forehead on hers, he spoke softly, “What’s wrong Seraphina?”

“I am not ready. I am sorry, Romaric.” She was young, only sixteen. He could smell her arousal, so there was no hiding the fact she wanted him, but her body and mind were at war.

“Seraphina …” He inwardly groaned. While he didn’t want to put pressure upon her, he wasn’t sure how long he could keep from taking her. His patience was worn thin. She was his and he wanted her with him.

“I thought I would be ready this eve. Meet me night after morrow at my home. Meet Father. Then I’ll come with you.”

Two more long, godforsaken days. He had to feed. It’d been too long already, but he could wait two more days. The thought of another woman’s essence in his veins was repugnant.

“Yes,” he reluctantly agreed before taking her lips again. She pulled back all too soon.

“I need to return. Hirum and Clara have fallen ill and mother needs my help.”

He selfishly wished he were her priority instead. “I will walk you.”

As he left her at the outskirts, watching her walk away, he’d already begun to count down the hours until he’d bring her to his home. To his bed. He’d meet her family day after morrow for evening meal and then she would be his. No more excuses.

Two days passed like ten, and as Romaric neared Seraphina’s meager family home, he sensed a life-altering change.
      

Walking through the small village, the putrid stench of death hung thickly and almost visibly in the air. He burst into her home, uncaring whether he was a trespasser. A young female, whom he assumed was her mother, sat at a small wooden table, crying uncontrollably.

“Where’s Seraphina?” he growled. A sick, panicky feeling built in the pit of his stomach.

She seemed unable to focus on him, twisted in her own grief instead. It took two more tries before she finally responded. And when she did, it tried his razor thin patience even more.

“Who are you?”

“I am Romaric. Now. Where. Is. Seraphina?” If he had to repeat himself again, fuck his manners. He would ransack the goddamned house in search of her.

She stared at him with glassy, bloodshot eyes. “She’s gone. Dead. She fell ill night before last and passed this morning. Three of my babies are now dead and two more are ill.”

His heart died. Or maybe it bled out inside his empty chest. Either way it didn’t matter. It was gone, along with his mate. Correction, he could never call her his mate, for they had not bonded. She was never his and now never would be.

Even through his unimaginable grief, Romaric had enough sense not to show his true self to these humans. After he’d discovered they’d already buried Seraphina’s body, and he’d never get a final chance to look upon her beautiful pixie face, he turned and left without a word. Without explanation. He’d later learn that a deadly strain of influenza killed almost half of her small village in a matter of weeks.

When he returned home, Romaric roared his unholy wrath so loudly those within one-hundred miles heard his certain agony. Stories would be told for centuries to come in both human and vampire communities, passed down from generation to generation, about the unearthly sounds heard that cool summer evening.

Until this past week, Romaric had not fully reminisced on those painful events since her death and now he couldn’t stop. It only served to remind him of his one colossal failure. Had he simply taken what was his, without waiting for her acquiescence, they’d be together this day. He would be a completely different male.

Happy perhaps.

Maybe even fun.

Fun
may be pushing it. Less impenetrable was probably more accurate.

He kept returning to the one thought that niggled the edges of his brain for days, and what could be the only plausible explanation for a possible
second
Moira. It sounded far-fetched and impossible, but …

He’d never actually
bonded
with Seraphina. She
was
his Moira, of that there was no doubt. But there was equally no doubt that Sarah Hill
was
his Moira. He’d never heard of such a thing, but perhaps, just perhaps, the Fates had given him a second chance.

It was time to get off his ass and take action. He’d already wasted enough time. He’d been putting this off, but there was only one vampire in the world he knew of that may have access to the answers he sought. One he’d intentionally avoided over the last six hundred years.

Looked like it was time to pay his father a visit.

Chapter 3

Sarah

“How did you sleep last night?” her sister asked as Sarah shoveled another scoopful of the best risotto she’d ever tasted into her mouth.

“Good.” Although it came out muffled around the thick rice. Her answer wasn’t entirely untrue, but the dream she’d had still disturbed her even this afternoon. As with so many things lately, she wasn’t really quite sure what to make of it.

Kate laughed. “I’m glad you’re enjoying that. I miss Leo terribly, but Hooker’s been a great replacement. Between his cooking and your cookies, I’ll probably gain fifty pounds before I have this baby.”

Kate looked so happy and Sarah couldn’t help the twinge of jealousy she felt, even though it was wrong. She vaguely wondered how she would ever find someone to make her as happy as Dev made Kate if she stayed here long term.

And she
wanted
to find it. She wanted the fairytale ending. She wanted the happily ever after. She wanted a house in the quiet country with three kids, a golden retriever and a dozen horses. She’d wanted that since she was a little girl and had played it out many times with her Barbie Dreamhouse, which had come complete with three stories and rope-activated elevator. She’d had so many plastic horses, she’d lost count, but her favorite was a jet-black Arabian horse, which she’d named Spade.

But she wouldn’t find that here because there were no human males wandering around and male vampires only bonded with their Moiras, the one female they were fated to spend eternity with. A concept still a little fuzzy to Sarah. And what were the chances she would find that here with one of the few vampires that Dev allowed into his fortress of an estate?

Umm … do pigs fly?

No. Here, the only thing, any unmated vampire would be interested in, was a blood donor and a romp in the hay. And while the sexy and enigmatic Romaric may or may not find her attractive enough to fuck her, she had no illusions she’d be anything else but that. An itch to scratch and warm sustenance to fulfill his craving. Vampires were highly sexual and she’d be just another in a bevy of babes. But God help her, she was contemplating it and he hadn’t even propositioned her. This vampire had gotten under her skin but good.

“Has the nausea passed?” Sarah needed to get her head out of the clouds and back to reality. Clearly their connection hadn’t been as strong for Romaric as it had been for her.

“For the most part. I still get a little queasy in the evenings, but it’s much better. I’m not sure why they call it morning sickness if I’m not even sick in the mornings.”

“I remember when my mom was pregnant with Jack,” she said wistfully. “I was only ten-years old, but I remember her throwing up all day, every day for what seemed like months.” She laughed, recalling how she’d felt about her new baby brother. “There was some movie out at the time,
Omen
, about a satanic child. Even though Jack wasn’t born yet, I’d already made up my mind that I didn’t like him because only a devil baby would make his mother so violently ill.”

Kate reached across the table and closed her hand around Sarah’s in sympathy. Sarah had told Kate all about Jack, his long battle with leukemia and his tragic death at the young age of eight. Although it was only six years ago, right after she’d graduated high school, it seemed like a lifetime ago but just yesterday at the same time.