by L. C. Son
Good.
Perhaps she already knows she’d rather it be my touch instead.
I take one last deep breath, hoping to catch just another ounce of her scent before taking my exit.
A warm euphoric sensation comes over me at just the thought of her. And while I feel the darkness within longing for release, the thumping of my heart pounds the vile creature beneath my skin into submission. A glint of hope arises at the possibility that perhaps the beast may have met his match in this nameless woman.
Just as I cross the threshold of the Tavern, a stinging pain shoots through me and my euphoria is lifted. I turn behind me and see a bright, golden light shining across the borders of the Tavern. Looking up, I see Melvina standing along the upper-level terrace and I know she’s shielded the building from me. An iridescent fog shimmers all around, but its brilliance is too bright for human eyes to detect. Melvina shakes her head in warning and walks back into the building.
Bessie and her team are quickly at my heel before I have a chance to cross the promenade. They encircle me and the tipsy company at my sides and I’m almost impressed by their efforts until one of Bessie’s men grabs my wrists and threatens me.
I barely have time to ponder his poorly executed motion when the feathering fragrance of the beautiful woman pulls me back into her trance. I gaze around the street and wonder if she’s outside, but her scent is just beyond the stronghold of the Tavern. The shield Melvina constructed glows brighter as Bessie rushes to the threshold and closes the door, causing the Tavern to fade from my view.
It’s okay. Somehow, I know this will not be our last meeting. Much like a child counting the days to Christmas, I know my gift is just beyond my reach. And I will wait, with joyous expectation to open such a present designed just for me.
“Hey Big D! What’s going on? Who moved the party outside?” I hear Braelyn call behind me.
“Braelyn, what are you doing here?” I question, pleasantly surprised to see her as she rounds the corner to meet me.
Bessie stares at her with indifference. The two have never been fond of one another. Perhaps Braelyn voiced her dislike of Bessie one times too many, but in any case, there is no love lost between them.
“Looks like you’re too little too late Ms. Dortches,” Bessie says flippantly.
Braelyn ignores Bessie’s lingering sentiment from behind her and keeps her sights on me and the giggling companions surrounding us.
“So I see you and Mrs. Bossier are still fast friends,” Braelyn replies with a haughty laugh. She turns only to see Bessie’s lethal-eyed glare aimed at her.
Bessie rolls her eyes and waves her adjutants aside. I hardly notice the man is still grasping my wrist when Bessie tosses her hand over her shoulders, dismissing him. He realizes his mistake when I flash my eyes brightly in warning as his hold lingers, and he backs away quickly with a baleful glare.
“Well then, I suppose you know you’re no longer welcome. Now, why don’t you and your drunken playthings take your party elsewhere,” Bessie barks as she quickly lights a cigarette and blows smoke toward the girls.
“Watch the second hand!” Braelyn teases while fanning the smoking cloud around us.
“Bessie, you and I both know Melvina’s little marker will not keep me away from her. Now tell me, who is she?”
“Who she is, Dalcour is off limits!” Bessie snaps, turning abruptly to reenter the Tavern.
“What is she talking about, D?” Braelyn asks, her curiosity chomping at the bit.
“Look, I’ll tell you all about it later. First, I need you to do me a favor.”
“Sure, D? Anything, what’s up?”
“Get a hitch or taxi for these ladies and send them home. They’re too drunk to go back to Titan.”
“Okay, I can do that but where are you going? I came looking for you at Razors and Crawley said he heard you tell the driver to bring you here. I was hoping we could hang out. I can’t stand to be at the mansion for long. That place had too much gloom even for me!”
“Look, Braelyn, I’ll tell you everything soon, but I’ve got to get out of here,” I answer as nervous energy builds inside me. The thumping of my heart beats fast like a snare drum and I feel my pulse picking up speed. I’m not sure what’s happening to me, but whatever it is I don’t need it happening in front of these people. Not now.
Just as I turn away, Braelyn grabs my forearm before I’m able to speed off.
“No, D, I’m not letting you just walk away like that—what’s gotten into you?”
“THIS!” I shout and place her tiny hands over my chest, allowing her to feel the thumping inside me.
Braelyn gasps and steps back, her eyes wide with both amazement and fear.
Chapter 11
Jackson
Whoever said pain is an indicator of growth has never been in my situation. With every passing day, I feel my grasp on reality slipping. It’s Monday and Damina has been missing since the eve of our wedding. We’ve never been apart without speaking to one another this long in all of our five years together. Even when I went away during the full moon, I was always eager to be at her side.
There have been no signs of her. No receipts from credit card purchases or tickets from trains or planes—no paper trail whatsoever.
It’s like she’s a ghost. A ghost of my own making. But I know better. Damina has done this deliberately. She doesn’t want me to find her. And why would she? I broke her heart in the worst way possible.
Still, she didn’t do this alone. That meddlesome Allyson has long waited for my mammoth-sized screw-up, and she finally got her wish. I’m sure Allyson couldn’t wait to get her away from me. She’s even covered her tracks as well. She’s never at her condo—or at least not when we’re looking.
I’ve slept in Damina’s place ever since I returned from my last phasing. I want to be here when and if she returns. Though her place is almost barren of any trace of her, being here is the only thing I have keeping me close to her. As I lay on her couch and stare up at the ceiling my mind wanders to fonder memories of me holding her in my arms, kissing her, touching her, and her body pressed against mine.
Today would’ve been our third full day married—if I weren’t such a colossal screw-up. She would be Mrs. Nash, and she would’ve known the real me.
Try as I might, I work hard to push away my longing thoughts of her. My body aches with painful desire as I think of just how pleasurable our honeymoon should be right now. We waited so long to finally come together—trying to do it the right way, only to wind up here. Alone and miserable. A low snarl pangs through me as I recount how she wanted me to stay and make love to her. Once again, by trying to do the right thing, I set this course in motion.
If only I had stayed as she requested, neither Kyra, Tye or Keiron would have been able to interfere. That’s just it! They were all counting on me to do what I always do—the right thing. Now it seems the right thing would have been to behold my beloved as she requested.
Now, she is gone from me and I feel helpless.
This is a new feeling for me. I don’t like it.
I’ve even asked the guys to keep an eye out for any strange storms or outbreaks in nature. Just as the sky roared in response to her pain on the eve of our wedding, I’m sure the heavens will once again tell of her outcry. But so far, nothing.
Shawn is tracking a few storms in the Gulf, but none of it appears to be out of the ordinary for this time of year. It is hurricane season after all. And without any airline or train tickets pointing in her direction, we are at a loss. We’re still waiting for camera footage from my security team in the District, but since its Labor Day weekend, it’s been a slow start to say the least.
To make matters worse, the air in her condo is off. I forgot she probably called the power company to service disconnected service. Not that I care for any light, but the lingering summ
er heat makes this place thick with humidity.
Thankfully, Gregory got me a cooler of ice and drinks and a few things to eat. Normally, I don’t eat much after a phase since the wolf usually stocks up on enough deer and woodland creatures to last me a good while. But this time something is different. I’m ravenous. It could be the full moon approaching that has my body in a tailspin or just Damina’s disappearance that has my body driving with hunger. I don’t know.
As I make my way to the fridge, my eyes spy a large envelope lying in the trash. It’s from JJ Properties in New Orleans. JJ Properties is extending an offer for her to attend an apprenticeship program designing and restoring mansions in the Garden District. Sounds like something my baby would love to do. I even notice she was recommended by Harrold Emmerson. Which is very strange since he died some time ago. Perhaps, he put in an application on her behalf before he passed away.
While I’m happy to see the offer in the trash, something about it disturbs me. The name of the company sounds familiar, so I contact my assistant Nicolaus and ask him to look into their operations and get back to me.
Argh! A loud shout bellows through me and I pound my fist against the wall as I toss the letter on the kitchen counter. Yet another thing trying to take my baby from me! I can’t catch a break. Everything is just a reminder that she is not here with me.
Keiron’s warning that there are more players on the board than I am aware replays over and again in my mind and my palms sweat as my fury begins to rise in me.
The wolf wants to be free.
I’ve got to get out of here!
Once more, I pound my fist, this time on the fridge and the sticky note Damina wrote to her aunt and cousin falls to the ground. And it hits me.
If there’s anyone Damina would tell of her whereabouts its Dacari. There’s no way Dacari will allow Damina to ever truly escape her grasp! I mean the girl even asked me for the travel itinerary of our honeymoon! Why wouldn’t she do the same in this instance?
I snatch my keys off the counter, race to my car, and leave for Delia’s place.
Luckily for me, it’s a holiday weekend and the roads are fairly open despite it being the evening rush hour. Just as I lift my hand to bang on the door, Delia opens.
“I could hear you skidding up my driveway all the way from upstairs.” Delia’s short and brash tone lets me know she’s still not happy with me.
“Hi to you too, Delia. Can I come in?”
“What do you want, Jackson? It’s late.”
“Have you heard from Damina yet?”
“No, I haven’t. Don’t you think I’d tell you if I had?”
“What about Dacari?” I ask squeezing through the narrow gap in the door. I look around, hopeful for some sign of Damina.
“Neither me nor Dacari has heard from her. Besides, didn’t Sophie tell you?”
“Tell me what?”
“Dacari’s dog died. So in addition to not knowing where Damina went, she’s grieving her dog!”
“I’m sorry to hear that, Delia. Truly I am. But perhaps I could just talk with Dacari. I can’t imagine Damina leaving without at least reaching out to Dacari in some fashion. It’s just not like her.”
“Well, Jackson you of all people should understand that perhaps Damina isn’t herself right now. She has no idea that Doodle passed away. And I know if she did, she’d be right here for her cousin. She would be right here with all of us. But she’s not and it’s all your fault!”
“Delia, I’m sorry and I’ll apologize as many times as I must until you forgive me but I’m just trying to find her.”
“Then shouldn’t you be talking to that wolf girlfriend of yours? Sophie told me that you have her at your place!”
“It’s not like that, Delia and you know it. And she’s not my girlfriend! I’ve been at Damina’s ever since I got back from phasing. Kyra was eschewed by her pack—she’s rankless. This is all my brother’s doing.” Delia gasps at my admission. She’s never had to strive for ranking since she’s a hybrid, but even she understands that for our kind it’s a fate almost equivocal to death.
As Delia’s defenses drop, she begins to tell me how Doodle died and Dacari’s miserable state as a result. While I do my best to take interest as she confides how she’s worried about Dacari and some muttering about Dacari’s biological father, my newly acute hearing picks up on Dacari’s voice down the hall. She’s speaking in a muffled tone and I can tell her hand is cupping her mouth. Noticing my disinterest, Delia quiets enough for me to pick up on another voice coming through Dacari’s phone.
My heart races as I hear Damina’s sweet tone whisper through the phone. “I’m so sorry Dacari. I wish you weren’t in the middle of my drama,” Damina says, apologizing to her cousin.
I race to the other end of the hall and rip the phone from Dacari’s hand as she struggles to get it back from me. She grabs my arm and I wiggle out of her loose grip, and she falls onto her bed.
“Jackson, no!” Dacari shouts at me. Delia rushes to Dacari’s aid, obviously confused. She seems genuinely surprised to know that Dacari and Damina are communicating. But that is not my concern.
Just knowing Damina’s safe on the other end brings me both comfort and sadness—she’s safe without me.
“Damina,” I say as soft as my voice will allow. I don’t want to scare her off. She remains quiet but I can hear her breathing through the phone. I repeat her name once more and she remains silent. It doesn’t matter. The only thing that matters is that I know my baby is well. I will seek her forgiveness for my whole life if it means I’d have another opportunity to make her mine.
Dalcour
“So Trieu, what do you think?” Trieu’s strangely calm and bleak expression is disturbing. I can’t tell whether she’s being contemplative or if she doesn’t believe me. What’s worse is that I can’t read her—at all. Coupled with Dranoel and the other wolves cloaking her, she’s worked hard to keep her inner thoughts hidden from Altrinions and vampires such as myself.
Slowly, Trieu stands from her rocker and with a gliding motion, paces the floor. I get up too. Even with my six-foot-plus height and broad frame, Trieu makes me feel petite with her seven-foot stature. I watch in admiration as she moves, her almost translucent skin shimmers, leaving behind stardust-like waves with each movement. Trieu is one of the most beautiful and enigmatic Altrinions I’ve ever met. Most Altrinions can blend in with humans seamlessly, but she cannot. That’s why she’s lived in seclusion with the last of the Beta Primes.
“Please, Trieu I need to know. I mean, perhaps I could’ve been imagining things. But I know what I felt. I felt my heartbeat!”
“Lord Marchand, please sit.” Trieu’s delicate tone sounds like whispers made through seashells. As I sit back down, she grabs a small book from her shelf and returns to her chair. “I had to think about it for a moment, but I finally recalled the oracles about your lineage. I thought they could help us.”
“Oracles? Please Trieu, you know I don’t go much for the powers-that-be bullsh—”
“Lord Marchand!”
“Look, I’m sorry. Maybe I shouldn’t have come here. I just thought you could help me,” I say rising back to my feet. “The last thing I want to hear about is some ancient mumbo-jumbo about my lineage.”
“Sit. Please,” Trieu says in a commanding voice stronger than I’ve heard from her before. She’s never raised her voice at me until now. And I suspect she’d only do so if she thought it was important, so I take my seat.
“Listen, Trieu all I know is when I saw her my heart was beating like a mad drum in my chest. It was almost violent. In all my five hundred years I’ve never felt what I felt last night. After I left the Tavern, I moved as fast as I could, soaring around Louisiana almost a hundred times until the electric energy pulsating through me was relieved. But the worst part was, the further I got from her the more it hurt.
It was like my heart was aching to be near her.”
“I see. Did you tell anyone else?”
“Only Braelyn, but she won’t tell a soul.”
“Good.”
“Why?”
“For starters, I’m not sure whether it would be safe for either of you.”
“Okay, now you’re not making sense.”
“Now, I don’t know whether it was caused by the energy you described or not, but last night there was quite a torrent that swept through the City unlike any I’ve ever seen. The Tavern was at the epicenter of that storm. If the oracles contained in this book are correct, you may have found your mate. And if indeed you have, you two may be in grave danger.”
“Danger? What! All because I felt my heartbeat. I don’t even know her name.”
“Tell me, did she have the same crest of the Great Oak on her body?”
“No. Well—I don’t know I didn’t get to see her that close. Why?”
“Lord Marchand, you are aware that as a carrier of the sacred crest you are destined for one fated mate?”
“You mean Anuel’s curse?”
“It’s not a curse, my lord.”
“Yes, it is, Trieu! He went mad when he lost his true love! It was his madness that caused us to become the progenitors of the scourged vampire race!”
“No, my lord. That was all Nuhtlus’ doing! He began the Strigoi strain. Anuel’s only downfall was a broken heart.”
“Yes, and now you’re telling me I’m due his same fate?”
“No, I’m telling you that your heart was destined to have one great love. So my lord if that is the one great love to awaken your heart, you may have indeed found your soul mate. The one who can break your curse and set your soul free.”
“Yes, a love that’s so fated—that it’s doomed!”
“It doesn’t have to be that way. If she bears the sacred crest, she is bound to you and you to her.”
“Well, there’s no true way of knowing whether the one from last night is the one. I just know I’ve never felt anything like that before.”
