Reawakening (31 page)

Her eyes became watery as her face turned serious. “I love you, Romaric Dietrich.”

He wasn’t sure he could respond in kind without tearing up himself, so instead he said, “Jareth and Elliott will be you with at all times. Do not leave their sights. Understood?”

She nodded.

“I’ll be home in forty-eight hours. And I’ll have my phone. You can call me anytime, and I’ll answer if I can. If I don’t, please don’t worry. I’ll call you back as soon as I’m able.”

“And you remember how to use the message feature when you can’t answer right?”

Smiling, he pushed an errant hair from her sweaty forehead. “Yes, beauty.”

“And you remember how to use the FaceTime feature, too, right?”

“I have absolutely no idea how the world survived over two thousand years without twenty-four seven access to someone.”

She huffed. “Yes or no?”

“Yes.”

“Good,” her sultry voice replied. “Maybe you’ll have time for a little phone sex while you’re gone.”

His groin hardened painfully at the thought. He would most definitely have to rethink his position on technology. “You haven’t forgotten what challenging me entails so soon, have you?”

“Apparently I’m a slow learner,” she retorted, a sly smile turning up her mouth.

Groaning, he leaned his forehead against hers. “I must go.”

“Okay,” she whispered.

He rose and dressed while she watched. “I want you at Dev’s until I return.”

Again she nodded. Sarah’s skills had been increasing at an astonishing rate. Only days after their bonding, she was already able to flash at will, which was something that took both Kate and Analise several weeks to master. He had no doubt his powerful blood had contributed to that.

“I want you there within the hour.”

She mockingly saluted. “Sir, yes sir.”

Leaning down, he locked lips with hers, pouring his every emotion into it. “You’ll pay for that when I return.”

“I look forward to it,” she quipped.

He walked toward the bedroom door. Circo was waiting in the kitchen for him and he was already late. But he couldn’t leave without saying one final thing.

He turned. “I love you, Sarah.”

The grin she gifted him with was one of the brightest he’d seen yet. And he suddenly had a new goal in life. Topping one brilliant smile with an even better one.

Chapter 50

Rom

“It’s fucking cold up here,” Circo complained.

“Jesus, you pussy. Stop your whining already,” Rom snapped. Yes, it was much colder than what his blood had warmed to in Washington, but this was the safest place for their rendezvous.

“Where is she?” Circo asked.      

“She’ll be here.”

Rom had met with Ainsley three days back and she’d returned to Romania a day before yesterday, just as he had. She was taking a huge risk to herself, and her family’s safety, by not only coming to the United States to warn him, but if Makare or Taiven discovered her sleuthing right underneath their noses, no doubt Makare would hold a public execution soiree. And Ainsley would be the guest of honor.

He had one last fruitless meeting before it was time to reunite with his brother in two hours. While he waited for Ainsley to arrive, he couldn’t help but let his mind wander back to his Sarah and the amazing phone sex she’d instigated last night when he’d finally managed to get FaceTime to work. He may have exaggerated his ability to figure it out, but damn it all to hell, he hated changing technology. He eventually had to ask Circo for help and that bastard left his room laughing, knowing full well what he was up to.

All he could say now was, give the man or woman who’d invented such equipment a fucking prize, because …
Hot Damn.
Not being able to touch his mate in the throes of rapture was torture, but the memory of watching her make herself come with such clarity had his cock hardening again. And the look in her hooded honey eyes when he’d gotten himself off to her dirty mouth had him wanting to flash home instantly, take her into his arms and bury himself to the hilt. He couldn’t wait to return to her after he was done with his brother.

Twenty minutes later, he was getting slightly concerned that something had happened when Ainsley finally flashed into the densely wooded Carpathian Mountains where he now stood. It was a secret location that only himself and Ainsley were aware of, and he hadn’t been here since he was about fifty-years young. The rickety cabin they’d built was long dilapidated, but it was a meeting place that would at least allow them some modicum of privacy.

“You’re late,” he snipped, not looking to Ainsley but the vampire she towed behind her. And he now had only ten minutes to get to his new meeting site, well before his brother.

“It couldn’t be helped. Father was suspicious.”

Christ. That’s all he needed.
It was already dangerous enough being in this godforsaken country longer than he needed to be, but he didn’t need Azairah Amanar, Ainsley’s father, sniffing around as well. At the time he’d left, Azairah was reluctantly conspiring with Makare on his illicit endeavors, but he didn’t know what time had done to the elder vampire. Was he a friend or foe? In his experience, everyone had their own agenda and he didn’t intend on discovering Azairah’s. Next time he stepped foot in his homeland, it was likely to end his father’s life, which would also end his mother’s life, and that sat like bitter acid, rotting his gut from the inside out. He didn’t need any more complications than he already had.

“Malachi, this is Romaric Dietrich. Romaric, meet Malachi Balcescu.”

Rom nodded sternly and unleashed just enough power to let the other vampire know he wasn’t to be toyed with. Since he’d slipped into Romania in the middle of the night two nights ago, he’d met with nearly a dozen high level, very powerful vampires in this exact spot.

And he was told the same thing by each and every one of them. None had any interest in rebellion. None thought Romaric powerful enough to win against Makare and they didn’t want to put their lives, or that of their families’, on the line to stand up to the tyrant. He couldn’t blame them. That’s how Makare self-proclaimed himself king all those years ago. Rom had also come to understand there had been many challengers for his position or who simply wanted him gone and all had been met with their demise. The confrontations were few and farther between now because Makare had acquired so much power that only the foolish or suicidal dared challenge him.

He’d also learned there were rumblings of a traitorous prodigal son that had returned. None of the vamps he’d met with were even aware Makare had another son until recently. And rumor was he was to be made an example of. All of them had only validated what Ainsley had shared with him. There was no happy family reunion planned. Only his death.

“I mean you no harm, vampire,” Malachi smirked. Rom assessed the male. He was a couple inches shorter than his own six foot six frame and a little less bulky, but power and a commanding presence rolled off him in waves. But he needed a damned haircut. Rom purposely kept his hair shorn closely to his skull. It made him look more badass instead of like goddamned
GQ
model.

“What information can you offer me about my father?”

“Nothing, I’m afraid. Your father is demented and far too powerful for you to beat.”

“So you say. Then what the fuck did you come here for?” His cool exterior was quickly shattering. These entire two days had been a complete and utter waste of time and he could have spent them with his precious Sarah instead.

“It’s what I can offer about your brother that may interest you instead.”

The shaggy-haired vampire was right.
That
did pique his interest.

Ten minutes later, and very enlightened, he’d arrived in the tower of the Reverie. Or what he and his brother used to call it when they were younger. It was really a church in southern Romania built in the 1200s and was quite the fortress with bastions, drawbridges, secret underground passageways and a very high bell tower on top of the main building. They used to call it Reverie—Castle in the Air—and when he arrived he was surprised to discover how nostalgic it made him. He knew exactly why Taiven had selected it. It was their clandestine meeting place far from their father.

He and Taiven used to sneak away here when they were younger, to escape a mentally unstable Makare. Romaric tried shielding Taiven as much as possible, hoping Taiven wouldn’t fall into Makare’s elaborate web of lies and deceit, but he’d failed. He’d first failed his mother, then his brother and finally Seraphina. His life had been filled with so much failure and it weighed him down heavily for many years. But he would not fail Sarah. And if his brother aimed to get in the way of that, he would have no compunction in ending his life too.

Rom was almost two hours early, but just minutes after his own arrival, Taiven flashed in.

“I see we both had the same idea,” Taiven smirked as he took the opposite corner of the cramped space.

Rom let a small smile upturn his lips. “Brother,” he replied.

They both leaned against the opposite walls contemplating each other silently for several minutes. One may mistake their posture as aloof and nonchalant, but it was anything but. Each of them was coiled and ready to strike at the blink of an eye should they feel threatened. And this was Taiven’s show, or so he’d let him think, and since he’d been the one to summon Rom, he wasn’t about to speak first.

“So I heard you’ve been here for a couple of days already.”

Fuck.

He didn’t know why, but he was actually surprised Taiven knew as much. Maybe he had a far more dangerous opponent to be worried about than his father. And what kind of peril did that place Ainsley in? So far this meeting was not going as planned. “Your point?”

“Don’t worry,” he replied as if Rom hadn’t spoken, “father doesn’t have a fucking clue. His head is clouded with bloodlust and dementia.” Vampires didn’t get dementia, at least not in the human form, but Rom knew Taiven was right about both aspects. He could see the crazy in his father’s eyes just a few short weeks ago. It had clearly escalated to explosive proportions.

“What am I doing here, Taiven?”

Eyes flitting to his mating mark, Taiven asked, “What did your Sarah tell you about me?”

He bristled, not liking the insinuating question, or the familiar tone that Taiven used when referring to Sarah. In fact, he didn’t like him uttering her name at all. But he’d play this game, because he knew when someone was trying to bait him. His brother excelled at it.

“Clearly she told me to meet you here. Very mature of you to use my mate to get to me when you could have simply tracked me down yourself.”

Not rising to the bait, he continued with his questioning. “Did she tell you anything else?”

Taiven was now succeeding as pissing him the fuck off. “What else
should
she have told me?” he gritted.

A smug smirk curled his lips. “I think you should ask your mate that question. Brother.”

Pushing off the wall, he drew the long curved silver Kilij sword he favored, picked especially for this little tête–à–tête. The curvature at the end of the blade was perfect for severing a head quickly, cleanly and fortunately for the bearer of his blade, painlessly. “It would be in your best interest,
brother
, to leave my mate out of this discussion and get to the point. Right. Fucking. Now.”

Rom thought back to his brief conversation with Malachi and had a difficult time believing what the vampire said held true, as he now conversed with his brother. Taiven seemed as smug and conceited and taunting as ever.

Taiven remained unmoved by Rom’s now aggressive stance. “Jesus, Romaric. You were always were so fucking dramatic and stuffy. Put your damn skull separator away.”

When Rom didn’t move, he added, “Relax and get comfortable, brother, because we have
much
to discuss.”

Chapter 51

Sarah

She tried to stay awake. She really did. But three espressos and two Cokes later, all she managed to feel was exhausted, now with a sour, churning stomach. She’d tried calling Rom around 2:00 a.m. and he’d messaged her that he was fine but would be a while yet, so she gave up the fight sometime after 2:30, letting sleep take her. And what happened after that surprised her so much, she almost didn’t believe it was true.

“Hi Sawa,” sang a small boyish voice.

“Jack …” she whispered unbelievingly. Her eyes were so blurry with moisture she could barely make out his small frame.

“Wanna play?” he asked, as he turned and skipped into the flowery, fragrant open field in front of them. He broke into a run, his little legs going so fast she almost couldn’t keep up, terrified all the while he’d disappear into mist and scatter to the wind any second. When they got to a large oak tree, the only one she could see for miles, he stopped and hopped onto the wooden swing hanging from one thick branch.

“Push me,” he giggled. “I like to go weally high, wememba?”

Yes, yes she remembered well. She would push him so high on their swing in the back yard, mom would yell at her to stop. Once he’d gone so high he fell off the back, knocking the wind out of him. Mom wasn’t home that day and neither of them said a word, pinky swearing to take it to their graves. She knew he did.

Silently, tears streaming unbidden down her face, she stood in front of Jack, pushing him higher and faster on the tree swing. Throwing his head back in sheer joy, he laughed. It was that carefree, lyrical noise she remembered from when he was alive, and it both soothed her soul and broke it at the same time. He laughed so hard and so long, she couldn’t help but join in. They giggled until their sides were sore.

There were so many questions she wanted to ask him, but she didn’t want to ruin the moment so she stayed silent, content to just drink in the sight of the brother taken too early. He’d be fourteen now, if he still lived, but he was still the same eight-year-old boy that she remembered from six years ago.