The Nightlife: Paris (The Nightlife Series) (17 page)

“QUIET.”

He stood facing forward, stomach churning with fear, waiting
for fiery death to blast over the horizon.  As the sun kissed his face for the
first time in over three months of nightlife, he sent out a silent prayer that
he could be reunited with Michelle somewhere in the afterlife.  Heaven or hell,
it wouldn’t matter as long as she was there.  The light of the sun, the first
he had felt in three months, warmed his neck, then his cheeks, then his whole
face.  The second hand on the wall clock ticked off noisy seconds in the
silence as he waited for the searing fire, the burning pain.  He slowly opened
his eyes to the orange-pink-yellow colors of the sunrise.

Urvashi looked at him and winked.  “You’re welcome.”

“Wow.  I don’t know what to say … thanks.”

He squinted at the near blinding brightness and held her
hand as they watched the November morning sun bloom upon the sky.  He still
felt the lethargy, that heavy dead-tired weight upon his eyelids, but he no
longer feared the sunrise.

He wondered what else she had done to him.

* * * *

Chapter 24

Michelle walked through the lobby of the Hilton towards the
door, intent on continuing the search for Aaron.  The night manager,
Maximillian Sinclair, watched her walk past.  He seemed to have developed a
fixation on her.  She had avoided him for the past week.

“Madam,
excusez-moi!
” 
He spoke up louder when she kept walking.  “Madam Michelle!”

She finally stopped and answered, “
Oui?
”  He jogged up to her,
catching her at the front entrance.

“How are you, Madam?  Is everything okay?”

With the painful truth in her heart and a lie on her lips,
she managed a pretense of a smile.  “
Oui,
Monsieur, I am fine.”  She didn’t feel fine.  She felt lost, more so than at
any time in her very long life.

“Have you seen Monsieur Pilan?  Is he aware of the wire
transfer?  We have some papers he must sign.”

She shook her head no, unable to speak.  Her façade hiding
the angst and loneliness cracked.

“Is there something I can do for you, Madam?”  Max’s aura
swirled full of concern, his hand at her elbow.

“I will let Monsieur Pilan know … when I see him.”  She
choked it out, looking away, unable to face Max.

“He is missing? 
Non?
 I can help you find him.  If he is staying in another hotel in Paris, I will
find him.  Don’t worry.”

A spark of hope flared, a light in her darkness.  “You would
do that?  You can help?”  She smiled brightly, her first real smile in weeks.

“Though he does not deserve a woman such as you, I will find
him if you wish.”

She hugged him, speechless with emotion.

* * * *

Beyond his tolerance to sunlight, Aaron noticed another
difference, a diminished need for blood.  He could go one or two nights without
feeding, and it didn’t really bother him – his thirst no longer the all-consuming
drive it had been.

In truth, he had no issues with his new life with Urvashi. 
Well, except for Renault.

Aaron tried to be polite when they met.  “Hello, my name is
Aaron Pilan, nice to meet you.”  He held out his hand.

“It speaks?”  Renault looked to Urvashi.

Renault spoke with a French accent and a hint of something
else, a flair from India.

“Yes.”  Aaron glared at the compact little man with curly
reddish-brown hair cropped close.  He tried to penetrate his mind, but the man
had a rock-solid privacy wall.  He imagined Urvashi had trained him well.

Renault snorted in derision, ignored Aaron’s offered hand,
and pretended Aaron didn’t exist.  Aaron sniffed the air, caught the scent of
something earthy, leaves in the fall, pine needles, and an animal taint. 
Something with animal fur.  This man was more than he seemed.  Not quite human.

“What’s his problem?”  Aaron flicked his head towards the
asshole.

“He’s jealous.  Renault has had me all to himself for far
too long.”  She twined her fingers in Aaron’s, with a pointed look in her
manservant’s direction.

He loved the feel of her.  Every time he stroked her skin,
power thrummed through his body.  He could be happy any time she touched him.

“Well, I’m not into the sausage fest.  Whatever you two have
going, don’t include me in it.  And he smells funny.”

“Renault and I have a working relationship, very
professional.”

“Right.  And that’s why he’s staring at me like I’m banging
his mother?”

Renault looked at him full of menace. 
“
Je t'em merde!
” 
Fuck you
.

The little bastard growled at him.  Aaron growled right
back, sliding out of his seat into a crouch.

“Behave!”  Urvashi’s will lashed around him, restraining him
from taking the snide little prick’s head off.

Renault snickered, delighting in Aaron’s frustration.

“Both of you.”  Urvashi’s finger snapped out at Renault and
he went rigid, veins standing out in his neck and forehead.  Whatever she had
done to him, it looked painful.

She released her hold on them both, and Renault took off
immediately.  She watched him go and explained.  “He will not be a problem, but
he does not understand my reasons for bringing you here.”

“That makes two of us.”

She glared at him.  “Patience.  In time all will be clear. 
Come, I have another lesson.”

She trained him nightly in numerous strange and fascinating
arts.  Some nights she tortured him with hours of meditation and focus.  Other
nights, he hung on her every word, fascinated by the intricacies of swords –
katanas
– specifically the
wakizashi
, a twenty-four inch blade.

He followed her into the adjoining room filled with
museum-like displays.  Her walls held an array of exhibits of all different
kinds, mostly archaic weaponry, with some vases, sculptures and other oddities
of human history.  They headed to the far end of the room, a large open area he
called, ‘Urvashi’s Dojo.’

A week earlier, she introduced him to the Japanese short
sword of tradition.  “The wakizashi is an elegant and deadly weapon for indoor
battle, and the preferred sword of assassins.  The Japanese designed it for
decapitation and close quarter dueling.  I use only the handmade clay-tempered
swords from Cheness Oniyuri, the Demon Lily.”

She smiled sweetly as she demonstrated how graceful and deadly
the short sword could be in the hands of a master.  She sliced through the air
in a humming blur – slash, parry, stab – a spinning arc of razor sharp death.  In
a matter of seconds she could carve a man to pieces.

After finishing her exercise, she lectured him.  “This is
the only weapon you will ever need.  And you will need it.  Dangerous as you
are, there are those who can best you.  Learn what I teach, and you will handle
any situation.”

And then she taught him to use the short sword like an
extension of his own body.  After several nights of practice he moved through
her katas – exercises – with speed and fluidity, the tempered steel singing
through the air.  He found peace of mind and a certain zen with the sword in
his hands.

On this night, as had become habit, he went straight for the
sword.

“No.  We need to work on your mental focus and discipline.”

He groaned.  More meditation.  Urvashi the self-help guru.

“A time may come when your mental focus and abilities will
make all the difference in the world, the difference between life and death. 
As you know, you can die.  It can be as simple as a man with a gun.”  Her
speech hit home.

Choked up with the grief her words inspired, he nodded
acceptance.

“You must hone your mind, focus your abilities.  A sharply
focused mind visualizes directly.  Learn to act by thought, by visualization. 
Clear out the debris and distractions.  Meditation is the first key to unerring
focus.”

He kept on nodding, wondering if she’d ever done seminars
with Tony Robbins.

“You have heard it said, ‘What a man can conceive he can
achieve.’  This is a partial truth understood by wealthy, powerful men, and the
occasional genius.  For you, this is the only truth you need to master.  There
is much potential awaiting your discovery.”

He sat and waited to discover, listening, letting her smooth
voice penetrate his thick skull.  Why not believe her?  He had no reason to
distrust her.  So he opened his mind to all possibilities.

“You may do many things that seem impossible, magical, but
this result is simply a product of a finely tuned mind.”

Coming from a fallen angel who did impossible and magical
things, he believed her.

“The power of your desire will determine the results of your
efforts.  You must learn to concentrate on your desires with all your focus and
intensity.”

Despite his willingness to follow her teachings, he found it
difficult to focus.  Her meditation exercise reminded him of his first night
with Michelle.  The bittersweet memory resurfaced.

As though it was yesterday, he recalled Michelle sitting in
front of him, legs crossed, wearing nothing but a see-through white slip and
panties.  As he lusted over every inch of her, she smirked in an unspoken
promise.  And she had delivered on that promise, giving all of her body and soul
to him.  He fell in love with her then, that very first night.  And when she
confided her darkest secrets he betrayed her love and trust.  Sitting with
Urvashi, practicing meditation, same as with Michelle, seemed a betrayal of her
memory.

Urvashi snapped at him, “Pay attention!”  He jerked back
into focus, embarrassed.

“Visualize yourself.  Feel the world around you.  Feel my
presence in front of you.”  She sat legs crossed in a black form-fitting
bodysuit, and looked every bit the fallen angel.  “Feel the flow of air
currents and the energies around us, between us.”

He felt it then, a slight pressure on his skin, a static
electricity, crackling and prickly.  In his mind’s eye he saw a faint glow coming
off her, reaching toward him.

She snapped again.  “You’re blocking me.  You’re blocking
out sensations with your shielding.”

He didn’t have the first clue how to ‘unblock’ whatever she
thought was blocked.

“Drop your shields!”  Spoken as command, her will tore down
the barrier he hadn’t known existed.

She stripped him bare, his soul naked for her perusal.  He
felt her then, an immensely hot and powerful thing – a burning hot sun roasting
him with uninhibited radiant energy.  She engulfed him, invading every pore and
crevice, stealing the air from his lungs.  He drowned in the overwhelming surge
of her power wrapping around him.

She invaded his psyche, his memories, every fiber of his
being, rifling through his most intimate secrets.  She dredged up his
humiliations, joys, failures, fears, all his life experiences.  Her exploration
evoked the deep grief of his father’s passing at sixteen years old, and then
recently Anastasia and the crushing agony of Michelle’s death.

Re-experiencing the moment, he sat there in the street, his
lover and companion bleeding to death in his arms.  It was more than he could
bear.

“Please stop!  Oh god, no more!”  He screamed and slammed
his mental barriers back into place.  She flowed back into herself, her power
tightly contained within her golden-skinned façade of humanity.

He gasped trying to recover.  Tears of blood streamed down
his face.

“I’m sorry.  I pushed too hard.  Forgive me.”  She laid her
hand on his, and that’s when he felt it, a siphoning-draining of his emotions. 
She stole his grief and pain, and with it a small measure of his energy.  This
exercise, though painfully harsh, had brought a new facet to his awareness.

“Is that what you have been doing all along?”

Her composure slipped for a second, then her mask of
perfection resumed.  “Yes.  I have taken your pain, when necessary.”

“I think you took a little something more.”

She smiled.  No apologies or shame.  “It seems you can learn
after all.”

* * * *

Each night Michelle descended to the front desk to find
Maximillian Sinclair.  “You have news of Monsieur Pilan?”

“
Non
. 
I cannot find him in any hotels in Paris.  Are you certain he has not left the
city?”

“
Non
. 
I can only hope he will come back here.”

It was the same each night, no luck.

She had visited the mansion several times, but never found
any evidence that Aaron had stayed there.  She hated the place more than ever,
for the memories of their harsh words, a moment of anger when she almost went
too far.  She had considered killing him that night.

Nothing to do but wait.

And so she waited.

* * * *

Chapter 25

“Michelle!”  Aaron screamed as he buried his cock and almost
bit Urvashi by mistake.  He barely stopped himself before his teeth broke her
skin.

“Aargh!”  She yelled in his face and her blinding daze of
light-energy shoved him off the bed.

He shook off the last crackles of her energy.  How foolish,
to risk the jealousy of a fallen angel.  “I’m sorry, I … got carried away.”

He sat down on the edge of the bed, head in hands, unable to
look her in the eyes.  In the past three weeks, sleeping at her side, making
love to her night after night, he had mistakenly called her Michelle more times
than he could count.

Her electric fingers traced the line of his shoulder and
down his spine.  “Of all the men in the world, I choose you.  And yet you long
for another.”

“I’m …”  The apology had gotten old.  Saying it again
wouldn’t make it any better.  “I just miss her.  You don’t know what it’s like,
to be connected so intimately.  We shared everything.  It’s like a piece of my
soul is missing, the best piece.”

“The imprint was very deep.  It might take a long time to
overcome.”

He looked back at her.  Her tone seemed strange, as if she
spoke more to herself than him.  “I need to accept she’s gone.”

“Yes you do.”

He took off to shower and get a grip on his messy emotions. 
Barely able to look her in the eyes, he dressed in silence and followed her
down to the ground floor.  As they had done so many times before, he
accompanied Urvashi and her chauffer Renault out into the streets of Paris.

He steeled his nerve to do the thing that had to be done.  “Have
Renault take us to the Hilton.  I need to put things in order, tie up loose
ends.”  His clothes, Michelle’s clothes, the hotel bill.  “It’s about time.”

She sat silent for a moment, and then nodded to Renault. 
She slipped a comforting hand over Aaron’s.  “Yes, it is time.  It would seem
unavoidable.”  She had that strange tone again.

At the Hilton reception desk he met the ever so courteous
Maximillian Sinclair.  “Bonjour, Monsieur Pilan, have you been enjoying our
lovely city?”  Max looked pointedly at Urvashi with a snide tilt of his upper
lip.

Guilt hit Aaron square in the gut.

Reading Max’s mind, the manager’s hatred boiled.  He saw
Aaron as cheating scum and worse, the other woman was obviously not French. 
Max’s intense loathing blotted out all else in his mind.

“I need a room key.  I lost mine a few weeks ago.”  Aaron
spoke stoically, keeping a tight control on his emotions.  This asshole didn’t
know the truth, and he had no right to judge.

In his fury, Max almost forgot to tell Aaron about the wire
transfer.  His eyes narrowed and he breathed heavily through his nose as he
presented Aaron with the paperwork.  “Sign here, and here, and here, and I will
get you another key.”

Once more, Aaron signed form after form shoved in front of
him, and Max slid the coveted room key across the counter along with an account
statement.

Aaron glanced at the bill.  “Shit!  Can’t you give me some
kind of weekly discount?  You’re billing me for the entire month and I haven’t
even been here!”

He read Max’s sublime pleasure at this small retribution. 
“Pardon, Monsieur, we do not have a weekly rate.  This is not Motel 6.  You
have had the Executive suite available all month.  It is regrettable you were
otherwise occupied.”  He executed another snide eyebrow lift in Urvashi’s
direction.  Max’s mind burned with outrage that Aaron would betray the
beautiful blonde French woman with Urvashi, and then have the audacity to
complain about his hotel bill.

“Oh, and I’ll be checking out tonight.  I want the balance
of my money, whatever’s left after paying for the majestic Executive suite.”

Max’s hatred and attitude set him on edge.  He already had
more than enough guilt about Michelle’s death.  He didn’t need this asshole giving
him a hard time.  Aaron considered leaping over the counter to smash the smug
little bastard’s face in.

Urvashi snatched up the key and ushered him away brusquely. 
“Thank you very much, Monsieur Sinclair.”

She steered Aaron toward the elevator with a firm grip on
his arm.  “Money is not an issue, but the Parisian police are.  You cannot
growl and intimidate everyone.  Some problems require finesse, negotiation.” 
She lectured him on their way up to the fourth floor.

The implications of her words about money sunk in.  The only
people who spoke like that were those who had more money than they could ever
spend. 
Looks like I got tangled up with another millionaire.
  He suspected
she owned all the floors below the penthouse apartments they occupied, and a building
like that was easily worth several million.

Fucking millionaires
.

When they arrived at the door to his room, Urvashi stopped
him.  “I think you should do this alone.  I’ll wait down in the lobby.”

“No, that’s okay.  I’d rather not be alone right now.  You’ve
been a comfort to me.  I’d appreciate it if you stayed.”  He wanted to make a
place for her in his heart.  He sincerely tried.

She ran her fingers through his hair, smiling brightly. 
“That’s the sweetest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

They walked into the suite together.  He braced himself to
confront the situation head on.  He worried he might find evidence of the foul
play from Michelle’s abduction.

The room looked spotless.  He imagined Michelle there in
bed, her tousled golden locks spread across the pillow, her glorious creamy
skin, and that sexy little smile of hers whenever she caught him thinking about
making love to her.

As though manifested from his imagination, Michelle glided
out of the bathroom wearing only a black silk bathrobe.  She looked so
provocative he instantly grew hard in his pants and his mouth filled with teeth
in anticipation of her wonderful blood.

* * * *

Michelle gawked at her lover and the woman standing next to
him.  At first she could do nothing but stare at Aaron in shock, the man she
had been waiting for, praying for.

She burst with joy at the sight of him.  “Aaron!”

But something was different.  His aura held a strange golden-bright
color, like nothing she’d ever seen.  And it leaked over to the woman at his side. 
Following his aura to her, this same golden color shone brilliantly from the
woman, like the corona of the sun emanating out in fiery waves.  This woman was
not human but something more – much more – and she held his hand as if she
owned him.

“Aaron?”

“Michelle!  Is that really you?”  Aaron looked back and
forth between the two women, as if he expected to see another Michelle
somewhere else.

When he looked to the black-haired Persian for approval,
Michelle knew the bitch had laid claim to her lover.

“Meurs,
pute!”
 
Die, whore!
  “He is mine!”  She launched at the bitch
in a snarl of rage.

Aaron intercepted her, snatched her right out of the air in
a crushing bear hug.  “Oh god, I missed you!”

She watched the bitch glaring at Aaron’s back as he squeezed
Michelle so hard it hurt.  Murderous fury filled her. 
Rend and tear flesh. 
Rip out her guts.  Listen to her screams as I filet her breasts and peel out
her spinal cord.

“I love you so much, Michelle.”

Six little words spoken with unmistakable sincerity dissolved
her rage.  Jealousy and suspicion evaporated, leaving only love and happiness. 
In his arms again.  He was back.  He lived.  Nothing else mattered.

“
Je t'aime de tout mon cœur
.” 
I
love you with all my heart
.

And he kissed her, the way he always kissed her, like she
was the only woman in the world.  Glorious heat and love poured over her,
working its way through her whole body.  Heavenly joy, wonder, awe.  She loved
this man.  She would follow him to the ends of the earth to be together.  Tears
of blood and joy ran down her face.

In Aaron’s arms, all was right with the world.

A dark-haired slut with tear-drop eyes pecked Aaron on the
cheek.  “I’ll give you this night with her.  We’ll talk tomorrow.”

Snap.  Michelle’s teeth closed on empty air as she lunged
for the bitch.  Too quick, the door clicked shut behind the interloper.

“Who the hell is that?”

“I’ll tell you all about her later.  We have some serious
catching up to do.”  He kissed her soundly, and his hands slid her bathrobe off
her shoulders, flowing all over her skin.  He laid claim to her mouth with a
fiery kiss of possession.  He carried her in his powerful arms and leaped onto
the bed.  Landing in a giggling tumble, his hard chest pushed against her
breasts as he kissed her again.

She shredded his shirt in her impatience to strip his
clothes.  His cock pressed against her leg and she grabbed it.  Just like she
remembered, rock hard, pulsing in her grip.  He growled as she stroked the
length of him, teasing the head of his cock with her thumb.  She wanted him,
needed him inside her, filling her, loving her like no other man had ever loved
her.

“I have dreamt of this moment.”  He slid in his hot,
engorged erection.  Inch by glorious inch, he stretched and filled her, burying
all that cock where she needed it most.

She growled into his ear.  “You are mine and I will never
let you go.”  She wrapped her legs around him and hooked her heels in, gripping
his ass for more.

He shifted his weight and hit that spot.  He always knew
where to find her spot.  Shuddering waves of bliss rocked her body as he ground
and thrust, hitting her right where she liked it, over and over.

“
J'ai besoin
de toi.
”  She clawed his back and pulled on his shoulders.

“I need you too, and I’m never letting you out of my sight
again.”

For a brief second she wondered what the black-haired bitch
would have to say about that.  Then he growled and hit home inside her, nailing
her spot with deliciously painful thrusts.  He sunk his teeth into her neck,
and she bit him back.  Heavenly bliss erased all thought, and nothing else
mattered.

* * * *