“I’m not sure I can eat.” Not only was she in bed but she was wearing one of his shirts.
“Hope you don’t mind.” She plucked at the soft cotton. “Sleeping in dirty clothes wasn’t an option.” Neither was sleeping naked. He wouldn’t have objected, but she was building walls between them once again.
“You’re welcome to anything in the closet.” If she wasn’t comfortable being nude around him, having her wear his clothes was the next best thing. It soothed the possessiveness bubbling around inside him. He set the tray on her lap. “Try to eat.”
She lifted the spoon and took a sip. “It’s good. Thanks.”
Satisfaction filled him when she consumed every drop. “How are you feeling now?”
“Tired, but whatever you did was pure magic. The headache is totally gone, and it was a doozy. I feel better than I have in a long time.”
“Thank you for trusting me. I know it couldn’t have been easy.” He took the tray and set it on top of the dresser.
She patted the bed beside her. Doing his best to ignore his raging hard-on, he sat. “I know you can’t tell me about Maccus and Morrigan. I understand and respect that. But you need to tell me about yourself. How did you come to be who you are? What you are?”
“What about you?” He could easily take the memories from her, but that would be stealing. It was also a transgression she’d never forgive.
She licked her lip and clenched the covers tighter in her hands. “You first.”
Chapter Eleven
“I was born a very, very long time ago,” he began.
How long ago? Deciding it was best not to interrupt, she swallowed her curiosity and settled in to listen.
“Those were the days the gods mingled more in the world of men, often visiting and staying among them. They certainly enjoyed being worshipped and feared. Not to mention having sex with humans.”
Chills raced down her spine. Knowing other creatures existed was one thing. The thought of actual gods running around on Earth was downright terrifying.
“There are many myths and legends, but without getting into the details of the pantheon, the sun god Ra sent a goddess to destroy mortals who had conspired against him.”
Holy crap, she might not know a lot about the Egyptian gods, but she knew that name.
“Her vengeance knew no boundaries. She ripped out the throats of guilty and innocent alike. The sand ran red, a river of the blood of the slain. Not all those she attacked stayed dead. They’d ingested some of her blood during the battle and it changed them.”
“The first vampires,” she whispered.
“Yes. They were filled with a hunger and anger they had no control over. Towns and villages were wiped out as the creatures tried to slake their bloodlust. It threatened to consume the world. Ra saw what had been done and managed to corral the raging goddess. But the gods are capricious creatures, and mankind was left to deal with the fallout.”
“You were bitten.” She’d seen death up close and personal, but this was wholesale slaughter on a scale she couldn’t even imagine.
“Yes.” He closed his eyes and sighed deeply. His throat rippled as he swallowed heavily. Even though he was right beside her, he was miles away, locked in the memories of the past. “It was so very long ago. Sometimes it’s difficult to remember details. I was a sickly child. I’d never been expected to make it to adulthood, but by some miracle I had. I wasn’t as strong as my brothers.”
It was difficult to imagine Asher as anything other than the strong and healthy male he was. Maybe that’s why he became a protector rather than a mindless killer. His experience had taught him empathy.
“Nowadays they’d say I had anemia and treat it accordingly. But I came from a poor family with no education. All they knew was I couldn’t always pull my weight with chores and had trouble tilling the fields for extended periods of time. My father and brothers resented my mere presence, saw me as a drain on the family resources.
“It was a dark night. So dark. Clouds covered the moon, as if it could not bear to watch what was about to occur. We could hear the creatures. The screams. My father and brothers had gone out with the other men to defend us. I remained with my mother. Worthless, my father called me. Told me to stay with the women.”
Her heart ached for the young boy he’d been. “I’m sorry.” Her parents had loved and supported her. He’d never had that.
“It was long ago.”
He kept saying that, but it seemed to be more of a reminder for himself. Some sorrows never left you.
“The door to our home was shattered. I ran at the creature, trying to protect my mother. It knocked me aside. I hit the wall with such force the bone in my arm shattered. She screamed as the monster dragged her outside, kicking and screaming.” His breathing quickened, and his hands fisted on his thighs.
“You don’t have to tell me.” She knew exactly what it would have been like, could hear the shrieks for help, for mercy that never came. Smell the fear and blood. Sweat broke out on her brow.
“I crawled after them,” he continued as though he hadn’t even heard her. “I likely had a concussion from where my head struck the floor. My ears were ringing, and my eyes wouldn’t focus. The vampire was standing over her body laughing. Her neck was torn open. The scent of death permeated the air.”
The image was vivid and far too real. Her breathing was coming too fast. She forced herself to take several deep ones.
“It came for me then. I was ready to die. I’d failed to protect the one person who cared for me. The beast grabbed me by the throat and lifted me off my feet. I could smell its fetid breath on my face. Fangs ripped into my throat. Then it spat out my blood. ‘Worthless,’ he said, just as my father had. Then he tossed me aside.”
“I’m so sorry.” It was inadequate, but there was nothing else to be said, no way to make it better. She understood what it was like to lose family to a monster.
“It was so ironic. The sickness that had plagued me my entire life saved me in the end. The vampire didn’t like my blood. It was weak. Not rich enough. The night waned and morning finally arrived. The stench of the rotting corpses was unbearable. Flies buzzed all around. As I lay on the burning sands with the relentless sun beating down on me, waiting to die, she came.”
Jo swallowed the lump in her throat. “Who?”
“Sekhmet—goddess of war but also of love and protection. She fed me her blood and charged me with the defense of mankind against the new scourge upon the land. I was like them now and needed blood to survive. Unlike them, I could walk in the daylight and required food to survive.” He gave a shrug. “I asked her why me. She told me it was my blood, the thing that always set me apart. To her, it was a sign, a mark of the gods. She made me into a tool to be used.
“I was stronger than I’d ever been in my entire life. The first thing I did with my newfound strength was bury my parents, several of my brothers, and about half of our village. The rest? They were either turned or their bodies had been dragged away and consumed by scavengers.”
A shudder racked her entire body. It would have been grisly and backbreaking work under the unforgiving sun. That he’d done it alone was a testament to his strength of character. Burying family was the most horrendous task. Only those who had been through it could begin to understand the pain and suffering.
“Now you know. That’s how I became the hunter of vampires.”
“But you didn’t destroy them all?”
“There were too many. They covered the land like a swarm of locusts. As the blood was shared and diluted, some of the creatures became more aware. I hunted those whose bloodlust was unquenchable. People learned the monsters couldn’t be out in the daytime and fought back. The remaining creatures fled the sun-drenched region, eventually finding refuge in Europe. The rest you know.”
“That’s incredible.” And heartbreaking
. It was like something out of an adventure novel or a fantasy movie. “You’re how old? Four thousand years? Five?”
“Ten. The Egyptian gods are ancient. They don’t bother much with Earth anymore. They’ve mostly moved on to other worlds but do pop in now and again. They don’t play well with the Greeks and Roman and Norse gods who still treat the world as their playground. Although the angels and demons are the biggest players in daily human life.”
Her head spun with the possibilities. It was almost too much to take in. “You’re telling me that angels and demons are running around? And gods? Like Apollo and Odin?”
“Apollo is a dick, but Odin is great to party with.”
“Are you messing with me?” It was impossible to tell.
“Not about angels and demons. And Apollo is a dick. I keep away from the gods whenever possible.”
“What about Odin?” This conversation was crazy but fascinating. How much had he seen in his lifetime? There’d been much suffering and horror, but there had to be some good stuff, too. At least she hoped there was.
“I really don’t know him well, although I heard he rather enjoyed that Viking television show.”
She held up her hand. “Enough. I don’t think I can take anymore.”
Asher laughed, and she was glad to see him smile. “It’s a very complex world we live in.”
“Tell me about it. It was complicated enough before I knew any of this.”
He sobered and took her hand in his. “I’m sorry you were pulled into this. You don’t deserve it.” His lips brushed over her palm, making her toes curl beneath the blankets.
“You actually have the blood of a goddess in you?” That was downright scary and boggled her mind. Gods and goddesses were actually real. Sure, it made sense, but she’d never really considered it before, not in any real way.
“Yes.” His words were curt, and his expression closed. Got it. Don’t ask about the goddess, not directly, at least.
He’d already shared more than she’d expected, so she left off with her questions. “I’m sorry about your family.” Didn’t matter how much time had passed, some hurts never faded.
“Thank you. What about you?” he asked.
Fair was fair, and she’d promised. He could pluck the information from her mind if he wanted. That he’d ask and respect her wishes meant everything and reinforced her decision to trust him.
She rubbed her fingers of her free hand over the top of the luxurious down-filled comforter. His past gave new meaning to the Egyptian cotton sheets on the bed. She’d checked the pillowcase label before settling in because they were so soft and cozy. And she was procrastinating. Thinking about the past was upsetting.
“I spent the first fifteen years of my life believing the biggest worries I had were the drug dealers and gangs that roamed the neighborhood.”
“Where did you grow up?” He shifted closer, heat radiating from his body. He still had hold of her hand, and she didn’t bother pulling it away. It was calming to have him running this thumb over her palm.
“Chicago. Rough neighborhood. My parents were good people who worked hard. My dad was a mechanic. My mom was a clerk at the corner grocery. I was an only child, and they doted on me. Still, I was alone a lot. I’d help out as much as I could with the cooking and cleaning while they were at work.”
She swallowed back the pain that never seemed to quite leave her. “We had a tiny apartment. My bedroom was really a storage closet, only big enough for a cot and a nightstand with two drawers that doubled as a dresser. Dad hung shelves on the walls for me to put my small treasures. Mom painted the walls in vibrant colors.” She hadn’t thought about that place in a long time. Along with the bad memories she’d blocked out the good ones.
“They loved you.” It wasn’t a question.
“They did. They gave me my own private sanctuary.”
“What happened?”
“My mom was a really beautiful woman.”
“You take after her.”
She shook her head. “I’m more like my dad. Mom could have been a model. People would literally stop and stare when she walked by. Men tried to woo her, but she’d laugh and say she only had eyes for my dad. They were completely in love.”
Memories of the two of them dancing around their crowded living room made her smile. “Mom could sing, too. Voice of an angel. She sang in the church choir every Sunday.”
Her fingers were gripping his now so tight that if he’d been human, she might have broken them. She eased up. “Sorry about that.”
He waved off her concern. “It’s fine.” He brushed his fingers over her face. The tiny caress settled her. “What happened to them, Jo?”
“My dad used to joke that he’d wanted a son he could name Joey. My mom would always shake her finger at him and tell me not to listen to his lies. That he’d prayed for a little girl he could call Josephine. They both called me Jo.” She was rambling. Anything to keep from having to think about the night her life had changed.
“Maybe it was because of my mom’s looks. There’s no way to know what attracts a vamp.”
“No, there’s not. Sometimes they stalk victims. Other times, it’s just who happens in their path when they’re on a spree.”
“Mom got home late from work one night. There were marks on her neck.”
“Intentional, then.”
“Yeah.” Just get it done, she told herself. Dragging it out was only making it worse.
“Dad lost his mind, accused her of cheating. She was terrified, having no idea how the marks had gotten there. I was so scared. They’d never fought before. I went to my room, shut the door, and sat there in the dark listening.” It had rocked her world to the core. God, her stomach had ached so bad she’d almost vomited. Her arms and legs had trembled uncontrollably. Her parents never had cross words, at least none she’d ever heard.
She swallowed heavily, the soup she’d eaten churning in her stomach. Asher moved to sit alongside her and lifted her into his arms. “You don’t have to do this,” he told her.
“I do. You shared with me.” Fair was fair.
“I did it willingly. This is upsetting you.”
“It is, but I’ve remembered good things I’d blocked out.” Tears threatened, but she blinked them back. She’d shed a lifetime of tears already and they changed nothing. “There was a loud bang. My dad yelled for my mom to run. I opened the door just a crack and peeked out. There was a man in the room with scary red eyes, talons instead of nails, and sharp teeth. The creature ripped out my father’s throat when he tried to protect her. Then he went for my mother. She was praying, but it didn’t save her. I should have screamed for help, should have done something. I hid under my bed.”
Shame washed over her. Her cowardice was unforgivable. Better to have died with them than to live with the overwhelming guilt she carried with her every day of her life.
“You were a child in shock at seeing your parents brutally slaughtered.”
She shook her head, refusing to take the easy out. “I was fifteen, almost an adult. My father kept a handgun in his bedside table. I could have run to their room and gotten it.”
“You wouldn’t have made it. You would have died.” He ran a hand over her shoulder and down her arm and back up again, trying to soothe her.
“Then I should have died.”
“No!” Asher snapped. “You were destined to survive to become a champion for those too weak to fight, those innocents unaware of the creatures stalking them. If you’d died then, how many others would have been slain?”
“But my parents—”
“No. They would have wanted you to live. To wish your death does them a disservice.”
God, he was right. She was wallowing in her guilt, throwing herself a pity party. The police had had to push her father’s body away from the door to get to her. He’d pr
otected her right to the end.
Asher gently caught the tear that escaped and rolled down one cheek. “I’m sorry.” She took a deep breath and brought herself back under control.
“Don’t be sorry. No child should have to go through what you did. But because you did, because of what you’ve become, you’ve saved other children that same heartache.”
“You really think so?” That gave her hope that maybe there had been some greater purpose to her survival than simply plain cowardice and fear.
“I know so. We were fated to meet.”
Was he right? There’d been so much death in both their lives. But they were here now. The memories were too close, hurt too much. She needed something good to counter them, wanted to taste life.
The brown of his eyes almost vanished as his pupils expanded. He swallowed hard as she lifted her face to him. “Jo?” Hoarse and low with desire, he stayed frozen in place.
“Make me forget the pain.”
He shook his head, his lips tightening. “You’re emotional right now.”
“You’re right.” They both were. “But I’m thinking straight. I want this.”
On a groan that was as much pain as pleasure, he gently pressed his lips to hers.
…
Asher’s heart was breaking for the young girl Jo had been. They both had scars but hers made his heart ache. They were fresher, newer. His were little more than ancient history, the faces of his family faded over time. The world he’d inhabited as a child was nothing but dust. Hers still existed, the memories little more than a decade old.
He longed to know what had happened to her after. Where had she gone? Had anyone been there for her? That would come later, but only if she chose to share.
She’s vulnerable right now.
Yet how could he refuse her plea? He was no saint, and his desire for her warred with the need to care for her.
Take it slowly.
The kisses were light, barely there touches that hinted at darker passions. Allowing her to set the pace, he ignored the lust demanding satisfaction and allowed his lips to skim hers, his tongue to stroke the plumpness of her bottom lip.
Burning Ash Page 11
