Haunting Echoes

by Caethes Faron

  Amaia enjoyed watching particularly skilled people. She loved the way his hands deftly moved without thinking, the smooth line of his body as he perfected his stance. It was rare that a man took such exacting care in his work and a refreshing change from the usual human foolishness.

  His manner was the same as it had been when she’d first known him. Michael had always been sure of himself. This life could just as easily have been his first; there were differences in circumstance and environment, but he was the same. The way he tossed his head, the smile that graced his face when he came to a decision, they were all the same, merely painted on the canvas of a different body.

  Amaia watched him ride to the stag carcass. He dismounted and examined the kill shot with his gray eyes. It had been spooky to see those eyes in a young boy, but he had grown into them nicely. It was a clean kill, keeping the meat intact. Four other men rode up beside him as two men tied the carcass to a pole to carry it home.

  “That’s seven. I think it’s time I should be heading back.” Michael swung back up into his saddle.

  “Aw, come on, Jean, you can stay longer.”

  “No, unfortunately, I can’t. Mother has a young lady she would like me to meet at dinner tonight. I shouldn’t keep them waiting.” Amaia’s skin crawled, and her thumb absently rubbed against the band of her ring. Why she should care whether he married or not was a mystery to her. Yet she did.

  “You mean to tell me that you will abandon our good company to meet a woman? Stay with us, and I’ll rent you a whore when we get back.”

  “Stop, Charles. You know I would rather spend my time with all of you, but my duty requires that I find a wife. I can’t abandon the needs of my family.”

  “Sure, the needs of your family come first. Forget about your friends and what they need.” Charles had full, pouty lips and large brown eyes that he probably used to get what he wanted on most occasions. Amaia didn’t like him.

  “You need a good dose of responsibility. I’m sorry I’m not as wealthy as you, Charles, but I must continue to provide for my family.”

  “Fine, go meet your potential bride, but take it from a man who knows: wives are nothing but trouble. I’d do anything to give mine back. Why do you think I spend so much time with you boys?”

  The men laughed. Amaia picked out Michael’s distinct rumble, rich and full. It was the most pleasant sound she had ever heard. He turned his horse and started for home. Before he disappeared into the trees on the other side of the clearing, he turned and looked directly into her eyes. Amaia’s stomach fluttered, and it took her a split second to hide herself behind the tree. She stayed there until the sound of his horse’s hooves disappeared in the distance.

  As the sound of Michael’s retreat faded, so did her sense of well-being. Seeing him had calmed something in her. Already, she felt the urge to follow him. The only thing that stopped her was that last look. His eyes had made contact with hers. He had to have seen her. It seemed impossible that he hadn’t, but he hadn’t stopped. His sight probably wasn’t good enough to make her out. The simpler explanation was that he had caught a flash of light glinting off her necklace and earrings. Still, it seemed too risky to follow him. She had seen him. That would be enough to get her through. For a while.

  Amaia knew she shouldn’t have come, but the pull proved too powerful. When Michael was younger, it had been easier to resist. Whole years had gone by without her visiting. It was different now. He was different. He was becoming the man she had known.

  Each year, she witnessed his growth. His voice formed French words instead of English. His frame was shorter than hers rather than taller. All cosmetic differences. None hid the truth.

  Running to the beach for a few minutes in the sand, she felt the strength of her immortal body as she leapt across the ground with an agility no man possessed. Why had she let her weakness overcome her? Why did she let a mortal affect her so? Foolishness. This was no way for a vampire of her standing to behave. She had come to the conclusion long ago that Lawrence was right. Michael was simply a reincarnated mortal, nothing more. That conclusion should have closed the matter, but she kept returning to see him. There was no satisfactory reason for her to continue harboring an interest in him.

  In the distance, she heard a man walking. She listened and confirmed that he was alone. A smile lighted her lips. This was how she should act. Lowering her fangs, she altered her course for the man who would sate her hunger.

  •••

  Curiosity proved a firm master. After eating, Amaia found herself obsessed with Michael’s evening plans. The soft sand and cold water at the beach were not adequate distractions. After much deliberation, she decided that a little more time wouldn’t hurt. It had been too easy to convince herself that by spending more time now, she could avoid another visit. The sun had set, and clouds obscured the moon. Darkness facilitated Amaia’s spying. Lying on the roof of Michael’s house, she hung her head over the edge, right next to his window.

  Michael’s mother was a strong woman. Firm, yet kind. Amaia found herself grateful that she had resisted the urge to kill her all those years ago. For some reason, Michael’s safety mattered a great deal to Amaia, and his mother watched over him. Perhaps, in this life, Amaia would be able to see him as an old man.

  “I don’t understand what the problem is, Jean. Brigitte is a perfectly nice girl.”

  “Yes, Mother, she is, but I’m looking for more than a perfectly nice girl.” Michael sat in a chair beside the hearth, soaking in the pleasant warmth.

  “What more is there?”

  “Fire, passion. How about intelligence, wit? Brigitte hasn’t an opinion on anything. She will live and die swayed by every stray wind. I want a woman who can stand beside me, be more of an asset than just her dowry.”

  “You ask for too much.”

  “No, I ask only for what Father found in you.”

  Her eyes softened as she grinned. “You flatter me, dear.”

  “I’m sincere.”

  “I know. I just fear that perhaps you are shooting for the moon when a star would suffice.”

  “No, she’s out there, Mother. I can feel it. I won’t settle. I won’t bring an unworthy woman into this family.”

  “Fine. I admire your resolve, even if I do think it is born in the naïveté of youth. I hate seeing you alone.”

  “Don’t worry about me, Mother. I’d rather be alone than miserable with a wife.”

  She patted his arm and placed a kiss on his cheek. “Very well. Good night, my child.”

  “Good night, Mother.”

  After the door closed behind his mother, Michael approached the window. Amaia’s skin tingled at his closeness, but she knew it would be impossible for him to see her.

  “Maybe she’s right, Spartacus.” Michael spoke to the Irish Wolfhound curled on the rug. “I just can’t help the fact that I’m not attracted to any of the women I’ve seen. Not the type of attraction that holds a man’s attention for a lifetime. I won’t marry a woman just to abandon her in my heart.”

  The dog moaned, no doubt hoping for attention. “I know. I’m depressing even myself. It’s time to sleep and let the woman of my dreams comfort me. It’s not my fault I can’t find her in the lighted hours.”

  Amaia knew there’d been a time when Michael had thought she would be that woman. He had proposed to her, sworn his undying love and affection. Amaia remembered the words. They weren’t so different than the words spoken by many of her clients. Hearing him talk about his feelings toward marriage, she felt again what it had been like with him. She had been that woman for him. He had been persistent, but he didn’t cheapen her. He had refused to pay for her after the beginning. He was only going to have her if she were truly his. His pledge of love had sung a familiar refrain, but he was the first man who made her believe him.

  It would be so much easier if he would just marry. As distasteful as Amaia found the idea, she thought it might give her some closure. Maybe she could leave him be if
he found a wife. She would have no interest in watching him share his life with another woman.

  There was nothing to be done tonight. Lawrence would miss her if she stayed to watch him sleep.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Aachen, April 1668

  Approaching her townhouse, Amaia knew Meg waited for her inside. She felt her from across the street. She wished she could have made it home unnoticed, but the situation could be worse. At least Meg was alone, and Lawrence hadn’t tried to contact Amaia while she was gone. She had timed her outing to coincide with his own hunting trip.

  “Where have you been?” Meg eyed her disheveled appearance.

  There would be no hiding the smell of salt water clinging to her hair. Better to tell as much of the truth as possible. “I was at the ocean. I suppose I got carried away and lost track of time.” Amaia smiled, hoping that by sheer force of will she could convince Meg to cease her questioning.

  Meg stared at her for a moment, lifting her brows in a questioning manner. When Amaia didn’t say anything else, she sighed. “Fine. Well, since you’re not working tonight, Liam and I thought you might want to join us at the hot springs.”

  Amaia undressed. She had worn the plainest outfit she owned: a dark blue riding habit. It was better able to withstand the journey, but she would still need to have the poor thing laundered and mended before she wore it again. “You mean you want me to go. I don’t think Liam would care if I burned at the stake.”

  Meg came up behind her and assisted. “Of course he would. It would put me in a horrible depression.”

  Amaia laughed. That was the truth of the matter. “The hot springs sound fun.”

  Meg handed her a plain green dress. “Good. I feel as if I hardly see you anymore. You work too much.”

  “You know the work isn’t my fault. Lawrence loves all the business.” Aachen was a gold mine for expensive prostitutes and courtesans. She dressed and grabbed Meg’s hand, pulling her out of the house. “We shouldn’t keep Liam waiting. I don’t want him cranky with me.”

  •••

  Hot water warmed Amaia all the way through, mimicking the pleasurable heat of feeding. Liam and Meg splashed about and wrestled in their secluded hot spring, but Amaia couldn’t bring herself to join them. Her thoughts journeyed hundreds of miles to Calais.

  How was it possible for him to reincarnate with the same energy and different features? What was it about him that arrested her attention? She was interested in him for curiosity’s sake, for academic purposes. She made it her business to study people’s energies. Lawrence insisted she do it all the time. In their quest to form a superior race of vampires, learning more about Michael would prove beneficial.

  If that had been the true source of her fascination, she would have shared it with Lawrence. She didn’t know why, but she knew that telling him of Michael’s reappearance and her little excursions to see him would not be wise. Not only did she have a feeling that he would be upset with her, but she knew he would insist on orchestrating a coupling between Michael and a woman with a strong energy. She found the thought supremely distasteful.

  A spray of water hit Amaia squarely in the face. “Stop brooding.” Through the droplets of water hanging from her eyelashes, she saw Meg stand, her hand poised to deliver another splash. “You have nothing to brood over. You’re the wealthiest courtesan in Aachen, you have a sire who adores you, and you have the greatest best friend in the history of the world.” Meg’s expression held mock severity, but Amaia saw a hint of truth in Meg’s eyes and knew she was worried.

  “I’m not brooding.” Amaia returned the splash.

  “Good. I’d hate for you to get wrinkles.” Meg giggled.

  “I can’t. I’m eternally preserved in youth, which is more than can be said of some people.” Amaia lunged at Meg, dunking her underneath the water.

  “Eternally young, eternally foolish,” Meg spluttered as she broke the surface.

  “Girls, girls. Don’t make me break you up. Besides, we all know I’m the one with the looks in this little party.” Meg and Amaia launched themselves at Liam. His muscled arms easily captured them, pinning their arms to their sides.

  “Let us go, Liam.” Amaia kicked furiously at him below the water, but he didn’t so much as flinch.

  “No, I don’t think I will.”

  “Please, Liam?” Meg gave him a pouty expression, her large, blue eyes sparkling as she gazed up at him.

  “Nope. Not going to work this time. Now I can enjoy a peaceful evening.” Liam, keeping a firm hold on each woman, exhaled and sank to the bottom of the pool.

  Amaia and Meg struggled to no avail. Liam was physically stronger than both of them. While she didn’t need to breathe, it still felt strange to Amaia to be without air. Too many years spent mimicking humans.

  After a few minutes, Amaia felt Liam’s grip loosen. Amaia looked up at him. His jaw was slack, mouth parted in pleasure. A glance toward Meg revealed why. She had bitten him and sucked sensually on his blood.

  Amaia was able to easily squirm out of Liam’s hold and swim to the surface. Several minutes later, Meg and Liam followed suit. “Eww. Really, you shouldn’t be doing that in public.”

  Meg disengaged from Liam and looked at Amaia with a sly grin. “So says the whore. There’s nothing wrong with exchanging blood.”

  Exchanging blood was one of the most intimate and pleasurable acts vampires could perform. Amaia wouldn’t know; it was something one only did with a mate. “I think I’d rather still be trapped than see you two mating.”

  “You’re just jealous.” Meg gave Liam a deep kiss.

  Amaia rolled her eyes. “Please forcibly stop me if I ever look so ridiculous over a man.”

  Meg laughed. “I don’t think there’s any danger of that. It would require you stop working long enough to actually meet someone.”

  Amaia only half heard what Meg said. Two gray eyes stared at her. The warmth in them made her more uncomfortable than Meg’s mating ever could.

  •••

  “I’m back.”

  Lawrence’s voice entered Amaia’s head shortly before dawn. They were still at the hot springs, floating lazily in their underclothes, bellies full courtesy of a few fellow swimmers who had stumbled upon their pool. “How was it?”

  “Good. I need to see you. If Meg and Liam are with you, you might as well bring them too.”

  Amaia froze. There was only one reason Lawrence would want to see all of them. Time to move again. “We’re at the hot springs. We’ll be there soon.”

  Amaia stood and walked from the water. “Lawrence is back. He wants to see us.”

  “So? He’s not my sire. Run along to daddy. I’m staying here.” Liam continued to float, but Meg was already exiting the pool.

  “Don’t be an ass, dear. No one is saying you have to do what Lawrence says, but we might as well see what’s happening.”

  Liam heaved a dramatic sigh and joined Meg. “Fine. If you’re going.”

  “I am.” Meg rose on tiptoe and kissed him.

  Thankfully, it was a short run to Lawrence’s home. Amaia didn’t need a lot of time to speculate about where they were going to move. She especially didn’t like how much she hoped it would be closer to Michael rather than farther away.

  Upon entering Lawrence’s townhouse, Amaia embraced her sire and gave him a peck on each cheek.

  “You’re a sight for sore eyes, my dear.” Lawrence smiled.

  “I missed you too. What news do you have for us?” Amaia stood behind the couch occupied by Meg and Liam.

  “We’re moving to Milan,” Lawrence announced.

  Amaia wished she were sitting. Living in Milan would make it almost impossible to see Michael regularly. She wouldn’t see him age. For some reason, it was incredibly important to her to see Michael as an old man, to see him move past the age at which she had known him.

  “Why?” It was the only thing she could say.

  “I want to investigate some bloodlines there.�
� Damn Lawrence and his obsession.

  “But there are plenty of good bloodlines here. People from all over Europe come for the hot springs. We can study more varieties of auras and energies here than anywhere else. There’s no need to move.” This couldn’t be happening so quickly. She needed more time.

  Three pairs of eyes stared at her in surprise. It was the first time she had ever contradicted her sire in public. “And there’s no need to stay here.” Lawrence’s voice was firm.

  “What about the peace treaty between France and Spain? Zenas will want us here to make sure it’s signed.”

  “And that’s why we’re not leaving for a couple more weeks. As soon as the treaty is signed, there will be no more reason for us to be here. We’ve already stayed too long.” Curse Lawrence’s cool reason.

  “Why do you want to stay so badly?” Meg scrutinized Amaia, and Amaia knew her friend would be able to see through her if her lie wasn’t solid.

  “This is the best place in Europe for someone in my profession. Why would you want to leave?” Amaia’s voice didn’t betray her panic. The last thing she needed was Lawrence’s suspicion.

  “We don’t need the money. Don’t confuse your profession with your purpose. We have more important matters to attend to.”

  There would be no arguing with him. It had been foolish to even try. Three weeks later, they arrived in Milan.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Milan, January 1673, 4 years, 9 months later

  The pull drove her mad. As she dressed, all Amaia could see were Michael’s eyes, the same way she saw them every time she had sex anymore. The disgusting snoring from the bed reminded her that she hadn’t been particularly hard to distract during her latest encounter. Regardless, she had to see him.