“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry.”
“That’s quite all right, my dear,” Jacobs rumbled, heavily rolling his r’s. “Age is relative. A concept created by humans to understand the passing of time. Time in itself is not real, you see?”
“Jacobs, I don’t think Samantha is interested in your philosophies,” Christopher cut in, irritated by the fact the faun still held onto Samantha.
“Oh, don’t mind him,” Samantha said. She gave Jacobs a coy smile. “I find it fascinating, please continue.”
Jacobs puffed up. “Aren’t you a delight,” he said. “Let’s head to my office. We’ll be more comfortable there. May I escort you?”
Samantha giggled. “Of course.”
Tucking her hand into the crook of his arm, Jacobs set off, babbling on his idea of time. Christopher walked behind them. His jaw ached from clenching his teeth. He’d known Jacobs since he’d started working here and they had never chatted like old friends.
Samantha practically glowed. Spots danced in his vision and his stomach tightened. Fuck. If he didn’t know Jacobs was married, he’d suspect the old faun was trying to flirt with Samantha.
Christopher combed back his hair. Not that it mattered. The human girl was nothing to him. If anything, she was annoying. He was wasting his time thinking about her. Yes, she smelled good. So good he could eat her, but it was out of the question. His gaze dropped to her swaying ass. His cock twitched, reminding him of his other interest in her. He swallowed a groan. Yes, he was attracted to her, too, but it was nothing more than a passing fancy.
They entered Jacobs’s office, which, compared to the previous room, was stark. Crammed bookshelves lined the walls, and a stately desk was laden with papers.
“Samantha, my dear, please have a seat. Christopher.” He indicated for him to take the other chair.
Jacobs accommodated himself behind the pile of papers. He pushed on his glasses and smiled at them.
“Now, Samantha, has Christopher told you what we do here?”
“Yes, Jacobs, I have been informed.”
“Excellent, then let’s get down to business.”
Chapter Eight
Samantha’s heart clanged against her ribcage. How in hell had she managed to put herself in this position? Her back pressed to the wall and Christopher looming over her, arms on either side, protecting her from the people and creatures piling onto the train after their work shift.
She peeked at him. He appeared to be distracted, his chiseled lips set into a frown and his gaze somewhere on the empty space above her. She bit down on her lip. If she stood on her toes, she could snake her arm around his neck and bring his head down to kiss her. Butterflies swarmed in her stomach, an array of nerves she’d never felt before.
Stop thinking, Samantha. He’s going to know. Think about something else. Magic. Friendly fauns. Puppies. Chocolate. Licking chocolate off Christopher. Shit.
She took in a deep breath but only succeeded in inhaling Christopher’s fragrance. Sweat gathered at her nape. She wanted more. The man made her panties damp. One smile, one chuckle, and her pussy was clenching with desperate need.
Stop, Samantha!
He wasn’t human. Had been, but not anymore. She saw it in the way he looked at things. It was as if he were far away from them. None of it meant anything to him. It seemed as if everything around him had lost all purpose. She was starting to think he didn’t treat others unkindly out of disrespect, but because he’d lost sight of the fact they were people, with feelings and emotions.
A hollowness carved itself in her chest, spreading through her limbs and squeezing her heart. If it were the case, she wouldn’t be able to help him. He’d lose himself in a dark place of which there would be no return. Samantha swallowed.
But maybe, there was still hope. Christopher could still laugh and find joy in little things, right? He might detach himself at times, but she’d seen a spark in his gaze today. Her cheeks burned. For instance, on the train, when he’d suggested tying her to his bed. A person who suggested something so outrageous wasn’t totally lost, was he? Sex was the epitome of humanity. It invited intimacy, feelings of one sort or another.
Samantha sighed. She had to believe it was the situation, because the alternative—she was nothing more than a vessel for his cock or food—would be too depressing to contemplate.
“That went well with Jacobs, right?” she blurted, searching for a distraction.
Christopher looked at her. The intensity in his gaze threw her back and her knees weakened.
“Yes,” he replied. “You were fantastic. I can see now why Santa hired you.” His mouth thinned. “Jacobs was practically salivating after you.”
Samantha blinked, surprised by the ferocity in his tone. “I don’t know him as well as you do, but from what he spoke, he seemed devoted to his wife.”
“It’s not what I saw.”
She smiled, trying to ignore the low timber of his voice and the way it curled in her belly, heating her from the inside out.
“Is that why you were glaring at him while we were working?” she joked.
“I wasn’t glaring. I was simply—” Christopher raked his gaze over her. “Watching.”
Samantha shivered. She lifted her chin. “And did you observe anything of interest?”
Christopher slid his arms to the height of her elbows. He didn’t touch her, but the hairs on her body rose. Nerve ends tingled. Christopher leaned in. “Absolutely.”
“Mind sharing?”
What was she asking? She knew full well they weren’t talking about work anymore, but she couldn’t stop herself. Her body had taken over her mind and all it wanted was for Christopher to come closer. She craved to see him bring out his humanity in the most carnal way possible.
“I’m not sure you’re ready.”
“Try me.”
Christopher grinned. His gaze held a warning which she should have heeded because the moment his lips touched hers, she knew she was lost. Burying his hand into her hair, he slanted his head and dove into her mouth. Like a flower urgently seeking sunshine, she opened up to him. His groan reverberated through her and she arched against him. His minty taste swept over her, taking her by surprise. Holding her firmly, he devoured her like a man starved of nourishment. Each stroke of his tongue drew her further away from reality, into a bubble where only they existed. Desperate to find something to hold on to, to keep her grounded, Samantha fisted his shirt.
It didn’t help. The world vanished, leaving only him behind. His essence. His strength. The heat of his passion, which she frantically desired.
The train lurched to a stop and they stumbled, breaking apart. Gasping for air, Samantha stared at Christopher. His eyes had deepened to an indigo blue and he had a wildness to him that spoke of danger and unyielding hunger. For her? She swallowed. She had to stop this now. Before it got too far. It was one thing to flirt with him so he would smile, and another one entirely different to kiss on a train full of people.
“Christopher—”
People shoved their way out of the wagon, drawing them close again. Christopher wrapped her in his arms. His scent flooded her and for an instant, she shut her eyes and pretended the sound against her ear wasn’t her own heart thrashing, but his, beating.
But it wasn’t. The knowledge chilled her to the bones. Christopher wasn’t really alive. He spoke and he moved but his heart was dead. How did he even exist?
The piercing whistle of the shutting doors signaled the train’s departure. Christopher tilted her chin.
“Are you all right?”
Samantha sucked in her cheeks.
“Christopher, we can’t do this,” she said.
“By this, I imagine you’re talking about the kiss?
She nodded.
“Why not, Samantha?”
He stroked her bottom lip with his thumb, leaving a tingling trail which echoed in other parts of her body. Damn it all if she didn’t want to nip his finger and tease him.
She yearned to kiss him again, to feel his unpredictable heat against her.
“I don’t see the problem. We’re both adults and we’re attracted to each other,” he continued.
You’re not alive.
“We need to work together. Things could get complicated,” she said instead.
Christopher cupped her cheek. His eyes narrowed and he set his jaw. “Complicated?”
“We work together,” she repeated.
Wanting you scares me. It’s unnatural.
Christopher raised his eyebrows.
“I see.” He disentangled himself from her. Samantha shivered and fought the urge to wrap her arms around herself. Christopher smirked. He knew.
“I’ll respect your wishes, Samantha. For now. But, just remember, doll, I’m an animal of prey. What I want, I hunt down and get. I’ve lived long enough to know I want you, Samantha, and a night of hot, passionate sex won’t make things, as you put it, complicated.” The train started to slow again. Their stop was next. Christopher leaned in. “Sooner or later, doll, I will have you.”
Chapter Nine
Christopher placed his hair into a bun. He sighed heavily. Ever since Samantha had left the office, he’d been unable to concentrate on his work. Her presence, even though arousing, also calmed him, reassured him. She brought new energy to the team, and though he loathed admitting it, to him. She poured herself into everything she did, finding something wondrous at every turn. Observing her amazed him, and for a few fleeting moments, he would forget all else.
He leaned against his chair. Samantha awoke something he hadn’t felt in ages: desire. He yearned for her in a way which was almost irrational. Her presence rekindled memories of times in his life when he cared for others, when he felt something other than anger and utter exhaustion. It was invigorating and he held onto that ounce of madness with everything he had.
If she didn’t want him, he’d back down, but her gaze didn’t lie. She was attracted to him, albeit also afraid. She was hesitant because they worked together, but her real fear was his unbeating heart. He’d seen it when she pulled away from him at the train. She’d been leaning on his chest and suddenly, she’d stiffened. She’d heard his dead heart. Yet, he lived. How? The questions burned in her irises just as they’d once done in his mind.
For years, he’d tried to find a purpose to his being. He’d come up emptyhanded. Eventually, he stopped caring. He simply existed. Everything around him came and went, and he continued to live on, a shadow among the colors of the world, there, but never really present.
He clenched his fists. Samantha had disrupted the darkness in which he thrived. In her short time with him—had it really only been two, three days?—she’d opened a door into something else. Touching her, watching her smile, laugh, show astonishment at the little things he took for granted, rekindled a flame he’d assumed had extinguished.
He smirked. He’d warned her if she got too close to him, she’d burn, but in truth, he was the one at risk.
He could care less.
Christopher stared at his paperwork. Letters swam before him incoherently. Shaking his head, he got to his feet. He needed to get out of here. He took the elevator to the main floor. Although it was close to midnight, the machinery still ran. At this time of year, it never stopped. Workers changed shifts, but the gears never stopped moving. Not with Christmas around the corner.
He waited for the train to come, uncertain of his destination, but only wishing to leave everything behind. The compartment he climbed onto was empty, so he took a seat near the window and stared out, watching the world speed by.
Five hundred years. Just like a well-oiled machine, one day it set into motion and never stopped, going round and round. His gaze fell on the corner and the image of Samantha flashed in his mind. Had he kissed her on this same train? He sighed. For a brief instant, everything had seemed to pause. A respite, where only he and Samantha existed. An instant in which he’d been hyperaware of her body, her warmth, the hooded lust in her green eyes holding promises of more moments like that one.
His chest tightened. How could he ignore any of it?
The train stopped and an elderly gentleman dressed in a dusty gray hood, clambered on. His walking stick clapped against the floor as he made his way to a nearby seat. Bright blue eyes regarded him from behind a curtain of snowy white hair. Christopher nodded in greeting. The old man tilted his head.
Christopher frowned. The man appeared human, but his scent wasn’t right. He couldn’t smell the blood, the pumping of lively organs doing their work. He didn’t seem to have an aura of magic around him either as most magicians did, either.
The train lurched forward. Christopher glanced through the window again, but the back of his neck prickled.
“You’ve got it bad, eh?”
“Excuse me?”
Christopher spun to look at the old man. He leaned forward, both hands on his cane. His leathery face split into a toothless grin.
“Who’s the girl?” he asked in a raspy voice.
Christopher narrowed his eyes. He had to be a magician, sorcerer or seer. “Listen—”
“It’s written all over your face. That forlorn expression only comes over men who are love-struck.”
Christopher gaped at him. “I’m not love-struck. I only just met the girl.”
The man chuckled. His eyes twinkled, victoriously.
“It only takes but a second for the heart to choose,” he said.
“My heart is dead,” Christopher retorted.
He shook his head. What the hell? Why was he even bothering to argue with this man?
“Wasn’t it ol’ vampire lore which said when you meet your mate your heart returns to life?”
Christopher started. He gave the man an icy glare. How did he know about that?
“Once dead, always dead.”
The man shrugged. “I’m just telling you what I’ve heard, sonny.”
“You’ve heard wrong,” he said sharply.
The man stood, legs shaking as he steadied himself. The train slowed down. He ambled toward the exit and stepped onto the platform. Glancing at Christopher, he gave him a pointed look.
“There’s always some truth to legend.”
The doors slid shut and the train set into motion. Christopher took in a deep breath and held it, before slowly exhaling. Damn old man.
He rolled the knots in his neck and tugged at his clothes. He’d met his fair share of strange in this world, but those damn magic users always made him uneasy. Not that he was right. Vampires couldn’t live again. Once dead, always dead.
Always.
But the niggling memory for years he’d kept buried wouldn’t go away. He covered his face with his hands. He wouldn’t think about her. She’d ceased to exist in his life almost two centuries ago. And she’d been delusional at the time. As had he.
Chapter Ten
Where was she and why was she so late? Christopher paced the office, holding his breath as he waited for her to pick up. Panic threatened to overcome him. Had he scared her off? Had their kiss been too much for her? Had she quit?
The idea of not seeing her again made his stomach clench unpleasantly.
“Hello?”
Relief flooded his synapses.
“Where are you? Why aren’t you here?” he barked.
“Christopher?”
Her voice sounded husky, as if she’d just woken up. His cock twitched, the image of a sultry Samantha just out of bed invading his mind. Wild red hair, swollen lips from his kisses, and body pulsating with life.
“Samantha, where are you?” He softened his tone.
“What time is it?” she asked.
“Ten o’clock.”
Time for me to be in your bed.
“What?” Her voice became shrill and he heard something crash against the floor, followed by a muffled curse. “Sorry. I’ll be right there.” Another bang. “Shit.”
Christopher grinned. He leaned against his desk.
/> “Samantha wait. Relax,” he said. “It’s okay. Before you arrived I could manage this fine on my own.”
“But—”
“I know, I know. You’re here to help. Honestly, it’s okay,” he said firmly. “Take a shower. Get dressed. I’ll go pick you up and we’ll have breakfast.”
He glanced at the pile of papers on his table. Was he really considering leaving?
“What?” She sounded as surprised as he did.
“I said, I’ll go pick you up,” he repeated.
“Why?”
He could picture her, blushing, her brow marred by confusion. “Because I want to.”
Because last night the past came back to knock on my door and now I yearn to see your eyes fill with amazement again, a respite from the endless dark I live in.
“No. It’s not necessary. I’ll be there soon.”
“This is non-negotiable, Samantha. Give me your address.”
She sighed. “Christopher, I told you yesterday—”
He rolled his eyes. “I remember. But this isn’t personal. My employees need to have their energy levels up, especially at this time of year. If you’ve overslept, it’s because you’re tired and who knows if you’ve been eating properly. Also,” he said before she could interrupt, “it’s common courtesy. You told me Santa didn’t show you around, and when a business associate comes to visit, we show them the sights and treat them to lunch or dinner. It’s part of the job.”
“I understand, but it’s really not necessary.”
“Samantha.” He tempered his tone. “Give me your address.”
She huffed. “I’m at the town’s Grand Hotel.”
“Room?”
“Lobby,” she said.
Smart girl.
“I’ll be there in thirty minutes.”
He hung up. Adrenaline coursed through him, seizing him with the impulse to laugh aloud. He shook his head. Funny how a brief interaction with Samantha, over the dreaded phone, no less, had him elated.
After leaving Andy with some precise instructions, he took the train downtown. He arrived at the hotel with a few minutes to spare. He stood at the window, looking at the busy street. Santa’s city center resembled any other in the world but at a smaller scale. Tall buildings, coffee shops, people running from one place to the next. Perhaps the biggest difference was the lack of cars. Everyone walked, or used other magical means. Occasionally, he could see a bicycle. Businesses here had to do with services provided to the community as a whole. Cleaning, food, doctors, etcetera.
The Beauty of Forever Page 5
