Passions out of Time (An Era Apart Book 3)

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Passions out of Time (An Era Apart Book 3) Page 4

by Chris Lange


  “Now, now, Raphael, you used to call me master.”

  “You used to pick on people your own size.”

  A roll of what she could only call laughter tumbled out of the immortal’s mouth, the grating noise similar to sandpaper on wood. She winced, gooseflesh making her want to rub her arms. When his amusement died down, he nodded. “You wish it was so simple, vampire.”

  Raphael shifted his stance, just a fraction. His enemy took a step forward in response. What if she slowly got down on her knees and crawled away? With the cover of night, she might make it.

  As both men stared at each other, she let her body glide down, an inch at a time. The slight friction of her gown against the car door didn’t even creak yet Khrull instantly stretched out one arm to point at her.

  “Stay put.”

  Her insides clogged. What did that bastard want? Why did he insist on terrorizing her when all she wished was to be left alone? Away from their world where blood, violence, and kidnapping were part of a daily routine, away from the place where Garrett was a happily married man.

  She was thirty-one now. She had responsibilities and people to take care of. The last thing she needed was to get killed by an asshole who would still be there for another millennium. Anger creeping along her veins, she looked at him. “Fuck you. I’m leaving.”

  He moved so quickly that her vision dimmed. One second he stood ten feet apart from her, the next his body nailed her to the car. Pressed so close to him, she saw a silver film covering his gray eyes. He didn’t try to strangle her this time, yet she gagged when she felt a hard bulge against her hip.

  “Not so fast, darling. I’m not done with you.”

  No, because now he had it in his mind to rape her before getting rid of her. Why in the hell did she insult him when a fight seemed inevitable? Maybe she’d have been able to slip away unnoticed if she’d kept her mouth shut, but no, she had to defy his authority and what good did that do her?

  “You’re hurting me, you big ape,” Tracy said.

  “It will be my pleasure to hurt you more.”

  A disgusting sensation squirmed in her belly and throat when his erection stiffened. Nausea riding up her guts, she threw her head to the side as he made to kiss her. But he never touched her.

  A taut fabric grazed her cheek just before his weight on her vanished. Suddenly liberated, she looked sideways and her heart leapt with joy. Raphael stood behind the immortal, pulling on the string he’d managed to tie around the bastard’s neck. The creature that had once been human gasped for breath, tendons bulging, eyes widening to their limits. And how does that feel, you motherfucker?

  Although focused on the task, her guardian vampire gestured with his head toward the hotel. Did he want her to make a run for it? Surely not with the high heels she wore. Mustering her courage, she bolted away from them.

  Struggling moans and grunts followed her while she hurried to the illuminated building where she might find safety. Could Raphael destroy such a formidable foe, or was he just buying her time?

  She scrambled along the wooden fence, heading toward the relative security of the hotel. Arriving on time at the gala turned out to be good for the other guests. At least, the parking lot remained deserted and people wouldn’t get scared or endangered by two big men fighting to the death. The exclusivity of falling prey to huge psychos was reserved to her alone.

  Halfway to the reception hall, something grabbed her collar and jerked her back. The yank expelled a cry out of her lungs, the brutal halt dizzying her.

  She moved forward anyway, but steel fingers crushed her shoulders and she whimpered with pain. Panic rushed along her veins, and her knees buckled. The immortal breathed in her ear. “Don’t make a fuss, darling, this is private business.”

  Just the sound of his voice brought her nausea back. Regardless of his tone and iron grasp, Tracy opened wide to scream, but he flattened his hand against her mouth and pinched her nose.

  Hopelessness rose in her stomach. Unable to breathe, she struck his chest with the back of her head in a desperate attempt. A hollow bong resonated in her ears. He didn’t release her, but his grip slackened a little.

  She shook her head wildly, got enough room to free her mouth, inhaled hard, and bit into the closest finger. She crunched his limb as ruthlessly as she could, hearing the frightening grinding of her teeth, feeling the skin rip, the warm blood seeping through her lips and down her throat.

  His dreadful hiss of pain unlocked her jaw. She spat out saliva and blood, her belly contorting, and wheeled round to see him staggering back. Maybe a little hurt, yet far from being down.

  He exhibited a bizarre, somewhat pleased air as he raised his finger to show her the torn flesh knitting itself with soft sucking sounds. Shivers gripped her spine, though she stood her ground when he cocked his head.

  “Would you quit being so stubborn?”

  She needed to come up with a witty reply, but her tongue still tasted of his blood. Drawing breaths to settle her stomach, she started when Raphael careened out of the night and jumped the immortal.

  Both men crashed down on the concrete, rolling away together, gripping each other, groaning like untamed beasts. Here was her chance again, but what good would it do to take refuge in the middle of a crowded hotel? Put people in danger? Whatever she did, Khrull would find her anywhere.

  Torn between sprinting to the reception hall or to her car, Tracy watched with growing bewilderment as her guardian vampire appeared to get the upper hand. Did he really? Now straddling Khrull, he held his enemy’s face to bash the thick skull into the ground. Again, and again, and again.

  When the immortal finally ceased moving and twitching, Raphael jumped to his feet with a graceful move, hauled up the motionless body, lifted it above his head and hurled it toward the fence.

  Spasms streaked her nerves as the spiky ends of the wooden stakes pierced the bleeding mass. She stared at the impaled creature, a surge of bile blocking her throat, coldness seizing her marrow.

  “Come on, Tracy.”

  Raphael took her numb hand, urging her to run, quickly pulling her to the back entrance of the hotel. Her harsh pants subsided only when he pushed her into an elevator. As they rode to an upper level, she cast him a glance.

  “He’s dead, isn’t he?”

  “No.”

  His brutal reply struck her hard, but unlike her dad and the rest of the world, her guardian vampire never lied to her.

  “So why are we here?” she asked.

  “I have a room. Tracy, I want you to lock yourself up and wait for me.”

  “What will you do?”

  “Check that Khrull didn’t bring a gang of vamps, and keep him away from you. More than that, I don’t know.”

  The metallic doors slid open with an irritating ping. Her hand in his, Raphael tugged her along an elegant, carpeted hallway to a brown door. Hundreds of questions reeled in her mind yet she already knew he didn’t have the luxury to answer them. She only had time to run and to hide, and perhaps have a good cry later on.

  At the back of the corridor, he prompted her inside a room and shut the door behind her. She was alone again, maybe forever. Then she took one look at the room and a bottomless void opened up at her feet.

  The abyss wanted to pull her down, to swallow her whole because she lost all strength. Although the floor looked like any other hotel floor, her stomach flipped violently, making her gasp. Heat burned her cheeks and her heart banged so hard that she pressed a shaky hand against her breast.

  Please, God, this can’t be happening to me again.

  But it was, and she had to stifle a moan as the simple fact of looking at the standing man stabbed her through. Pain pricked her side, yet it didn’t come from the mad dash. Sweat slithered down her spine despite the cold shivers seizing her body and ro
oting her to the spot. Could a person die from too much emotion?

  She’d run away from the immortal for the rest of her life if he never stopped pursuing her. She’d fight him to her death if necessary. She was even willing to spend her days freezing her ass in the North Pole if the inhospitable region offered her cover. Anything. She’d do anything except this.

  Because another round of him would kill her.

  “Good evening, Miss Richardson.”

  She shut her eyes, unable to bear the sight of his handsomeness, incapable of sustaining the fierce leaps of her heart. Fuck, it hurt. Yet even in the darkness of her brain, Garrett was still there. She squeezed her lids tighter, forcing his image out of her mind, pushing away the sound of his voice.

  “Will you not look at me?”

  Didn’t she suffer for days, months, years because he abandoned her to get married to his Barbie doll? Hadn’t she been punished enough? Some people believed that the wheel of fate always turned, from good to bad, from bad to good. So how come the damn thing didn’t turn for her?

  “Tracy?”

  The softness of her name through his lips popped her lids open. A staggering sensation hit her again as she set eyes on his tall frame clad in a three-piece suit, his sensual mouth, his intense gaze riveted on her. Beads of perspiration coating her armpits, she leaned back against the door.

  The relaxing shower she took an hour ago felt like a distant memory while she kept on sweating, her pulse running riot, nerves twitching inside her neck and underneath the soles of her feet.

  She needed to drink. If she could lay her hands on a glass of water, she might find the strength to articulate a sentence. Any word that stopped him from approaching her or talking to her would do. He took a step forward and her arm shot out before she formed the command.

  “Garrett, don’t.”

  His sudden baffled expression increased her jitters. What the heck was he so surprised about? Had he imagined she’d run to him like he never betrayed her? Apparently so as his eyes widened when she kept her arm stretched out, palm directed toward him in a stop-right-there gesture.

  “Have no fear, I shan’t come nearer.”

  Four years without hearing his haughty accent and old-fashioned manner of speech flew away in a split second. He spoke and her heart mellowed into a vibrant shout. Too much air trapped in her aching lungs, her raised arm seemed to drop while she flattened her fingers against the door.

  Now she had to say something, but her body wouldn’t let her. Or was it her mind? As terrifying as her encounter with the immortal had been, this was oh, so much worse.

  Shivers raked her, emotion stung her eyes, and the mere idea of hearing Garrett’s beautiful voice again parched her throat. He watched her without blinking as she finally uttered a full sentence. “I need water.”

  Mustering her strength, she pushed herself off the safe feeling of the door to take a step toward the other side of the room. “I’m gonna go to the bathroom. You don’t follow me, you don’t speak to me, you just stay right where you are.”

  A confused shadow flitted across his severe features, but he didn’t open his mouth. Taking his silence as her cue, she edged sideways, her dragging feet definitely not helping. What the fuck surprised him so much? Didn’t he have full use of his brain to figure out the shock of seeing him put her out of sorts? And why was he here?

  She flicked the lights on in the bathroom and stood in front of the rectangular mirror. Her face looked pale in spite of the light make-up she’d applied earlier, but that was to be expected. Something else wasn’t.

  Nineteenth-century gorgeous lords be damned. She stared hard at her reflection, balling her fingers into fists at the new light in her eyes. No, she couldn’t go down that road again.

  A stream of water bounced out of the faucet when she turned it, the clear liquid refreshing her mouth and throat. She drank greedily, in need of strength to face the ordeal waiting for her in the hotel bedroom.

  Why had Garrett come? For that matter, why had they all picked the same day to harass her or try to kill her? A coincidence seemed way too far-fetched. Something must have happened in the other world. Even so, she didn’t ask to be thrown in the middle of their shitty business. She wanted to be left alone.

  Her thirst quenched, she smoothed her hair and dress before turning round to eye the door. Getting out of the bathroom felt like leaving behind a sanctuary, and she had to force herself to walk the first few steps.

  Garrett hadn’t moved an inch. Standing next to an armchair on one side and a table on the other, he watched her come forward until she stopped within the distance she judged safe. No furniture between them, just a green and red mat covering the floor.

  She licked her lips and took a deep breath. “Why are you here?”

  “I dare say I’m happy to see you.”

  “I’m not.”

  His frown warmed her skin and made her tingle all over. How many times had she observed this particular expression on his face when he was angry or caught unaware? Far from impressing her, the familiar sight brought back a surge of emotion she refused to acknowledge.

  “Oh, don’t look so startled,” she said. “Why would the feeling be mutual?”

  “Yes, why indeed.”

  She hesitated when she heard his disappointed tone. Did she hurt him? Had he really expected her to jump into his arms after what he did? Abrupt questions burned her lips, yet she buried them deep into her mind.

  “Look, Garrett, there’s just been a kick-ass fight down in the parking lot. The immortal isn’t dead and I’m not sure he won’t find us here. Given that we don’t have much time until Raphael returns, maybe we’d better cut to the chase.”

  “Certainly.”

  Good.

  If he agreed to talk only business, she might have a chance to get out of this place without a bleeding heart. “Then I repeat, why are you here?”

  “Your friend informed me of a threat to your person.”

  Tracy stifled a snort at his choice of words. When she met Garrett, he treated Raphael with contempt, like the man was some kind of vagrant unfit to approach her, talk to her, or even look at her.

  With slowness, she tilted her head. “When you say ‘my friend’ you mean the beggar, right?”

  Garrett raised a disdainful eyebrow and her belly twisted. Such a familiar reaction. As he looked down his nose at her, she gnawed the inside of her cheek to quell the warmth rising up her thighs. Gosh, no, not that. Thank God, he had no idea what went on inside her as words fell out of his mouth like pellets.

  “I mean, your friend Raphael.”

  Well, it seemed things had changed in four years. Were they best buddies now? It might be best to let it go, but in spite of her restraint, an old surge of bitterness tightened her chest and pushed her to test his limits.

  “No, this is too rich, really. Tell me, Garrett, since when do you see Raphael as a human being?”

  “Since the moment he surrendered to the enemy in order to save the life I hold dearest.”

  A knot blocked her throat. A lump so hard that she had to force her saliva down to let air out of her lungs. What did he just say? Hold or held? Because a single letter had enough power to shatter destinies.

  Nippy tremors ran down her spine while she attempted to still her raging pulse, perspiration coating the back of her neck. Could she ask him to repeat his answer? No, she was being silly again, falling for his charms when she should be focusing on the dangerous and urgent matter at hand.

  “Okay, Garrett, I believe you. No need to bring out the big guns. Do you know why Khrull wants to take me out?”

  “I fear not.”

  The mighty Lord Burnes might be concerned about her, yet it didn’t show in the way he stood and looked at her. A strange feeling poured out of him, inv
isible, groundless, but unmistakable to her raw senses. What was on his mind?

  He stepped forward and she staggered back. If he came any closer, she’d have to flee despite the security the room offered. He halted when she backed away, his face a blend of puzzlement and frustration. His weird attitude accelerated her pulse, almost as though she was about to hear a revelation.

  Muscles tensing, she breathed through clenched teeth when he suddenly ran both hands through his hair and fixed his gaze on her.

  “Tracy, why have you forsaken me?”

  Chapter 5

  What?

  Was she going deaf, or did Garrett just imply she gave up on him? She wept for days after his father died and he inherited the legacy that cut him off from her. Then he got married and she shed more tears. Did he think she’d overlook the past years simply because they were cooped up in the same room?

  He really had a nerve turning the situation around like this. Although she felt like yelling at him to go back where he came from and leave her alone, his unwavering stare stopped her. That, and the words echoing off the walls of her mind.

  Why have you forsaken me?

  Pins and needles pricked her toes as she fought to remain calm. How did he dare accuse her when he was guilty as hell? She battled for long seconds while he waited for her answer, but who was she kidding, she’d never been good at hiding her emotions.

  Unfairness lifting her soul over a wave of frustration, she blurted out the only thing that would stab him right through the heart. “How’s Lady Ashton?”

  He frowned. Of course he did, given that he expected to hear a long explanation or possibly an apology. Dream on, baby. He recovered quickly though, his features shifting into a mask of indifference.

  “She fares well.”

  Great. No doubt Miss Perfect loved being the new head of the Burnes’ household. And estates, and privileges, and wealth. Damn the stupid bitch.

 

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