Reunion, Felicity Heaton [ebook e reader .TXT] 📗

give her insight into the way this human thought and acted. It would make him easier to predict.

“Butchered them. I mean, really butchered them. It was total carnage.”

Marise searched his eyes to see if he was telling the truth. He looked shaken enough for it to be true, but then she was holding him by the neck and she was wearing her true face. It was hard to tell whether she was frightening him or whether it was this new hunter.

“Did he display any abnormalities?”

He frowned. “Other than the fact he could practically rip a guy limb from limb?”

It was all the answer she needed. Her suspicion had been right. Whoever this person was, they weren’t wholly human, at least not anymore.

“Thank you,” she said.

Relief spread across his face but quickly died when she sank her fangs into his neck and gave a sharp, deep pull on his blood. She wrapped her arms around him and delighted in the warmth and taste of the sweet ambrosia slipping down her throat. It was intoxicating after these few days without food and it went straight to her head. She tightened her grip, drinking deeper until his heart finally gave up and he went limp in her arms.

Dropping the body, she wiped her fingers across her mouth and licked them clean.

It felt as though it had been months rather than days since her last feed.

She savoured the buzz running through her, the rush from fresh strong blood, and then sighed.

Her breath turned to mist on the cold air and then disappeared. It wasn’t often she got to see that anymore. It had been centuries since she had been alive.

Turning, she walked back to the gates of the cemetery. She needed to report in her findings and maybe then she could check on Jascha as she had said she would.

* * * *

Jascha shifted so he was sitting up in bed and tried to get his thoughts onto something other than Marise. It seemed impossible. He could think of nothing but her, about how she had tended to him today, and the feel of her against him, her lips brushing softly against his skin. He sighed. It didn’t mean anything but he wished that it did. He had more sense than to believe that Marise had come back to him, but his heart still held onto hope.

If she would only let him speak and tell her how sorry he was, maybe then she would see that they belonged together, that everything that had happened that night was in the past now.

He looked down at his torso, at each cut and fading bruise. She had been so gentle with him, carefully healing his wounds so he would recover. She had been the only one to tend to him, to see what he needed in order to heal, and to take the necessary steps to ensure that happened. No one else had offered to sew his wounds, or seal them with their saliva. Not even Alyssa.

The door opened and his stomach flipped as his head turned to face it. The thrill of anticipation left him when he saw it was his brother and not Marise. She had said she would come. Had she changed her mind? He had sensed the struggle in her and knew that she was fighting a losing battle against her feelings.

He closed his eyes and leaned his head back into the pillow behind him. Fifty years and she was still as beautiful and she still stole his attention like no other had. No one had made him feel the way she did, crazy for her, mad for her touch and hungry for her kisses. Not even in his human life.

He had never known passion like they had shared in their years together.

He pressed his fingers to the bridge of his nose and reminded himself that he had thrown it all away, discarded everything and exchanged a life full of love for an empty one. One moment of madness, or stupidity, and he still paid for it every day.

But now she was back, and he had seen the feeling in her eyes, the love. He didn’t know whether it was strong enough to convince her to give him a second chance and listen to what he had to say. She clearly feared it because each time she visited, she gave him strict instructions not to speak.

He wouldn’t push her. He had done that all those years ago and she had left him. He didn’t want her to leave again. He couldn’t go on this way, drifting through life with no purpose other than protecting his family because he couldn’t protect her. He would give it all up, his position and his family, if she would let him be the one to protect her.

“Are you tired?” Tynan’s voice cut through his thoughts.

Jascha opened his eyes and looked at his brother, answering him with a shake of his head.

“Waiting for her?” Tynan’s smile said it all—it was obvious he was hoping to gain her forgiveness and regain her as a lover.

“Always,” he said, his voice no longer strained by his wounds. He could feel them healing. She really had done a good job of patching him up. He owed his life to her.

His stomach turned again when the door opened and this time it was Marise. She was still wearing her uniform. Either she dearly loved her position, or she was using it as a shield around her heart, as a reminder of who she was now, so she didn’t fall for him again. He wished she would take it off and release her heart from the steel box she kept it locked in now, and listen long enough to understand how sorry he was about what had happened.

He couldn’t undo it, no matter how much he wished he could. The past couldn’t be changed. It was set in stone. It felt as though that stone was hanging around his neck.

The look in her eyes told him straight away that there would be no tender touches and concern during this visit. He didn’t even think that it was Tynan’s presence making her act indifferent and emotionless. It was as though there were two Marises, one the Law Keeper and the other the lover.

The woman he used to know.

She stopped at the foot of the bed and nodded a greeting to Tynan before turning her steely gaze on himself.

Jascha sat up a little more, keeping himself covered, not giving her the satisfaction of seeing him naked. Her eyes dropped to his chest briefly and then met his again.

“Are you feeling better?” she said, no trace of feeling in her tone.

He nodded.

“I have gained information from a hunter. He saw the man that tried to kill you butcher a group of weaklings. Apparently he tore them apart, literally. I don’t believe we are dealing with an ordinary human.”

“Is that so? He didn’t seem ordinary when he fought us. He had speed, and strength... not of a pureblood, but possibly as strong as a weakling.” He kept his gaze locked with hers, silently speaking different words to her. What had happened to her? What had she been doing all these years? Had she thought about him at all?

She turned away, her eyes dropping to the floor and then fixing on the curtains.

“Is there anything else that you remember? He kept you alive for a reason. He killed two others, two almost as strong as you. Your strength and skill was not an advantage in this fight. He let you survive.”

Her words sent a cold chill through him but he didn’t let it show on the surface. She was right. He had lost to this vampire hunter and they had shown him mercy. They had let him live. They had used him to send a message to his species that someone was as strong as they were and willing to fight.

“Even though he only has the strength of a weakling, he has an advantage over them that meant he bested two of our guards. He is intelligent and he used it well,” Jascha said and then cleared his throat. He was still tired and weak, and speaking was draining his energy reserves. It wouldn’t be long before the rising sun called him to sleep and there was no way he would be able to resist it. He wished that when that time came, Marise would be lying in his arms as she used to. “He separated us. I remained with Timur, to protect him, while the other two attacked the hunter. The hunter led them away from us, into the open where it was easier for him to attack. The fight was fierce and he was not unharmed. We managed to injure him, but not before he had staked the two guards and attacked me. I had to defend Timur. It was my duty.”

She frowned. He could see the flames of anger as they began to rise in her eyes and knew that she blamed Timur for what had happened to him. That was why he had said it was his duty, reminding her that it was Timur’s right as lord of their bloodline to choose not to fight, instead having his guards die to defend him.

Her arms folded across her chest and she stared at him. He thought she was going to say something more, but she turned away and walked to the door. She opened it and paused, looking over her shoulder at him.

“Thank you. I will report back to my colleagues and continue with my mission. I don’t think I will need to question you again. I wish you well in your recovery.”

And she was gone.

His heart sank straight through him, pulling him down into darkness as black emptiness filled him. He stared at the door, unable to make sense of her and what was happening. Was she leaving now? Was she going to torture him by remaining in this house until the case was closed, so near to him, but distant at the same time?

He looked at his brother, trying to see if he had understood what she had said. Tynan had that apologetic look in his eyes that Jascha had always hated, even when they were human and working together as special agents in the military.

His brother had always had too much pity for his own good, often questioning his orders and feeling remorse for those he had had to kill. Jascha had never had that problem. An order was an order. Duty was duty. Maybe that was why he had become an elite guard and Tynan hadn’t. Maybe that was why he had taken to life as a vampire so easily. He knew his brother hadn’t wanted this to happen to him but he was glad that it had.

His gaze returned to the door.

If only because he had met Marise. He had known love for the first time and the last.

“Tell me she’s coming back,” Jascha said, not taking his eyes off the door.

Tynan sighed. Jascha took it as a no.

“She patched me up during the day. I woke to find her cleaning my wounds.” He touched his throat and then removed the bandage so his brother could see. “She was worried about me, I know it.”

He looked at Tynan. His brother gave him a knowing smile.

“That was Mari. Now, she’s Marise. A woman will love you while you’re weak, but when you’re strong enough to fight, she’ll fight you again.” Tynan leaned back in his chair, his smile still in place.

Jascha frowned, not quite following his brother’s logic. It was true that Tynan had superior experience when it came to women, but he couldn’t bring himself to believe that Marise’s change in attitude had anything to do with his returning strength. It was more likely that she had used the time away from him to regain control over her emotions.

Tynan laughed.

He shot him a dark look.

“You think that fifty years is enough