Heart Ache (Bound by a Touch Novels #1)

by Morgan Kearns

  “We’re sorry for your loss, Ms. Ryan. Really.”

  “Thank you. Now, if you’ll excuse me.” Gabby closed the door and fell against it. Her fingers moved over the handsome face smiling back from the frame and her knees wobbled under her weight. She slid down the door with the picture clutched to her chest. With guilt eating her alive, she melted to the floor in a puddle of tears.

  *****

  Two things in life bring people together; weddings and funerals. Those two events had brought Jayson’s family in droves. His parents were gone, and the task of organizing the funeral had fallen onto Gabby’s shoulders. She didn’t resent the responsibility. In fact she considered it a penance of sorts.

  After all, it was the least she could do.

  The day had been a tough one. She’d spent most of it crying, mourning. Not so much over the loss of the man she loved as the loss of a very dear friend—a friend who had loved her unconditionally.

  She closed the door to her tiny apartment and went to the one place capable of bringing her comfort. Kicking her heels off and removing her fitted black suit jacket, she curled up in the chair that resembled Nikolai’s and pulled a fleece blanket over herself.

  A knock interrupted the silence and she snuggled deeper into the only comfort she’d found in days.

  “Go away,” she whispered, not expecting her unwanted visitor to hear her.

  More knocking. She sighed and was just about to get up when suddenly, out of thin air, a woman appeared in her living room.

  Gabby scrambled to her feet and raised her fists. “Wh- what…?”

  “Oh, please.” The woman’s lips lifted into an evil smile that made her stomach churn. “Come now, Gabby. Surely you can’t be that frightened of me.”

  Hell yeah, she was frightened. Who was this? She narrowed her eyes and somewhere in the back of her mind there was an echo of recognition.

  “Who…?” Her gaze darted to the locked door before returning a glare at the intruder. “How…?”

  Gabby hated her stammering. Hated it. She was a confident woman who didn’t stammer. But it wasn’t every day a woman just popped into your living room. She cleared her throat—and her thoughts—and glowered at the woman, she now recognized as Natasha.

  As an unwelcome blast from the past, Natasha stood completely composed in front of her. She was as beautiful as Gabby remembered with hair the color of honey and twinkling eyes despite the hatred that flamed in them.

  A hatred she didn’t understand.

  “What are you doing here, Natasha?” Her voice was strong with the right amount of annoyance, which shocked the hell out of her because the rest of her was shaking like a leaf in a hurricane. She shoved her hands deep into the pockets of her slacks and pinched her thighs through the fabric.

  “If you’ll recall, dear Gabby, you invited me in once. That invitation is what made my visit possible.” Natasha was unabashed, her brow lifted as she raised an elegant hand. “I wanted to offer my condolences.” Her nonchalant expression belied her words. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

  “Tha—”

  “I can’t say that I’m surprised.” It was as though the woman actually floated across the apartment, her fingers stroking the various pictures and knick-knacks adorning the surfaces. “It was only a matter of time before he snapped.” Natasha turned as she reached the large leather chair. She smirked, recognition in her eyes.

  Gabby felt her brows pull together. Confusion fogged her mind.

  “Oh, don’t tell me you were surprised. He’s been completely smitten with you since day one.”

  “You knew Jayson?” She hoped her questions would keep Natasha talking long enough to figure out what the hell she wanted and how the hell she got past the locked door—and the chain that was still in place.

  Beautiful, yet frighteningly eerie, laughter bubbled out of the gorgeous woman before her and a shudder snaked up her spine.

  “Sweet, sweet, naïve, Gabrielle, don’t be coy. You know what he is, what you are to him.”

  Survival instincts fired like crazy, her blood raced through her veins. She swallowed hard and cleared her throat, hoping to sound irritated instead of scared to death.

  “Natasha, if you’re just going to talk in riddles, then—”

  “I’m talking about Nikolai, you fool!”

  Gabby wished she could have stopped the jolt of her heart. But the mention of the man who had been obnoxiously MIA caused it to lurch violently.

  “What about him?” She hadn’t figured out what the hell was going on, but she was not going to just cower. She forced her spine to straighten and locked her knees to keep herself in place.

  Natasha laughed. “You, my dear, are … special to Nikolai.”

  Gabby tilted her head and quirked a brow.

  Gold eyes twinkled as the explanation continued. “Nikolai is what you humans—” The word crackled through the air like the vilest curse word. “—call a vampire.”

  Laughter burst from her gut and continued to bubble from her toes. Tears slid down her cheeks and the laughter refused to stop, even when her sides ached.

  “A … vamp- … ire?” She used the back of her hand to stifle the giggles when Natasha glared with murder in her gaze.

  “The vampire race is far superior to yours. It would be wise to never—” She vanished. “—forget that,” she whispered from right behind Gabby.

  She whirled around to come nose to nose with the seriously demented woman. “I don’t know how you’re doing that, but you need to stop right now.”

  “Your heart is hammering like a little rabbit who knows the wolf is only seconds away from pouncing.” Another round of eerie laughter echoed through the room. “Don’t worry … I won’t hurt you.”

  “If you’re not here to hurt me, then why are you here?”

  “To warn you.” Natasha examined the nails that were as perfectly gorgeous as the rest of her. She stalked over to the box and plucked the picture of Jayson from amongst the belongings meant to be returned to him, but never would.

  Natasha stroked the photo, a wistful expression captured her features. “He really was handsome—for a human.”

  Gabby’s heart beat hard and fast, building for explosion in her chest cavity. Before she could snatch the picture away and rip every blonde strand from the woman’s head, Natasha spoke again, “Your beloved was murdered.”

  Gabby ignored the wave of guilt and nausea. She narrowed her eyes. “You don’t sound surprised.”

  “Of course not.” Long blonde locks swung and settled. Natasha tossed the picture back into the box where it landed with a glass breaking crunch. Gabby cringed and Natasha smiled. “You’re a heartmate, darling.”

  “A wh- what?”

  “Oh, I’ve said too much,” she gasped in mock surprise. “You really should find Nikolai for more answers.” Her gold eyes darkened. “Just remember, Gabrielle, a male never gives up his heartmate. Never. He will do anything to keep her. Even murder.”

  And then she was gone.

  Gabby ran from one end of the apartment to the other in search of the woman who had pulled a Criss Angel routine and disappeared before her very sane eyes. Her heart pounded. Her mind raced. Her stomach gurgled. And still there was no sense to be made of the last ten minutes.

  She jerked on the doorknob. It didn’t open. She unlocked then relocked it. Shaking her head, she pinched herself. She must be dreaming. But she wasn’t that creative.

  Vampire? Yeah, right.

  Heartmates? Ha!

  The whole thing was laughable.

  So why wasn’t she laughing? Why was she shaking?

  It wasn’t like she hadn’t tried to reach Nikolai. She’d searched high and low for him, had called every number she had for him. Obviously the man didn’t want to be found. And until seconds ago, Gabby had tried to convince herself it didn’t matter.

  Karma really did exist, she decided, and it was personified as a blond-haired, golden-eyed bitch!

  She’d l
ost everything in the moments it took to walk halfway down the aisle; Nikolai, Jayson, and her freakin’ mind!

  Or had she?

  She wanted answers. Now. And there was only one man who could give them to her. If she could find him.

  She dialed the office. No answer.

  Nikolai’s cell phone. Straight to voicemail.

  His house. Four rings and then an answering service.

  Her only other option was a number she hadn’t called before. She fumbled through some papers in her desk and found the one she was looking for.

  Two rings and a gruff voice barked, “Who is this?”

  “Gustav?” she breathed into the phone.

  “Gabrielle?” His tone softened.

  “I’m, uh … I’m looking for Nikolai.” Her teeth closed over her thumbnail as she waited for a response.

  “Oh.” He sounded surprised. “I’ll call him—”

  “I’ve tried.”

  “Have you?”

  “All I get is voicemail.” She grimaced at how pathetically whiney she sounded.

  “Don’t worry. I’ll track him down.” She heard the smile in his voice. “You can meet him at his house in half an hour.”

  “Half an hour?” Skepticism bled into her question.

  “Trust me. I’ll make sure he’s there.”

  Nikolai watched as the caller id on his cell phone registered Gabrielle’s number, then his house phone. His chest constricted, an invisible vice tightening around his unbeating heart, making it difficult to breathe.

  His fingers twitched with the need to answer, to speak with her, to hear her soothing voice. But that would only bring more heartache. She’d made her choice, and they both had to live with the consequences.

  He’d managed to hide, to pretend that life hadn’t taken a serious turn to the miserable, never-to-be-recovered-from worst. He couldn’t bring himself to even go to work. Vincent had been the saving grace, taking care of all the issues that couldn’t be handled from the confines of Nikolai’s pathetic hide-out.

  A quick displacement of air caused Nikolai to look up from his perch at the kitchen table. Gustav grinned like he’d eaten the damned canary.

  “Gabby called.”

  Nikolai concentrated on the grains in the wood of the table. “And?”

  “I answered.” Gustav sat down in a chair and lowered his face into Nikolai’s line of sight. “She’s looking for you, and I’m going to sit right here until she gets here. You can’t run anymore.”

  His first instinct was to plow over Gustav and flee to a place where no one would ever find him. His second was to man up and face the music. Anxious energy simmered in his gut.

  He sat across from his brother in uncomfortable silence for nearly twenty minutes until an echo of a beat skipped in his heart and he jumped as the doorbell rang. He glanced from the direction of the door to Gustav, who smiled.

  “Answer it, brother. Your destiny awaits.”

  As Nikolai stood, second guessing the sanity of facing his heartmate, another displacement of air signified Gustav’s departure.

  Nikolai rubbed at his chest, staring at the closed door. There was no doubt as to who was on the other side.

  Thump-thump.

  Thump-thump.

  Gabrielle.

  “Dammit Nikolai, I know you’re home. Open the damned door!” Another ring of the doorbell was followed by incessant pounding. “Please Niko, we need to talk.”

  He took a deep breath then blew it out on a hiss. Slowly. He rolled his head around on his shoulders, his neck cracking. After flipping the locks with his mind, he opened the door. What little breath left in his body was stolen by the sight before him.

  Gabrielle was striking in her white blouse, opened at the throat giving a peak at her cleavage, and black slacks which hugged every curve without meaning to. Her skin was flawless, her face somber, her eyes … pissed. They flashed when he looked into them.

  “Please … come in,” he muttered, using his hand to invite her into his home.

  She brushed past him, her stride irritated. “Do not act like nothing has happened between us. Do not pretend you didn’t walk out of my life after telling me that you love me.” A breath blew through her lips. “You can’t avoid me, Nikolai.” As her voice broke she turned her back to him.

  Emotions of every kind consumed Nikolai; love, adoration … defensiveness. “I’m not avoiding you.”

  “Bullshit.” She whirled around, her hair spun then settled around her shoulders. “You haven’t been to the office. You don’t answer my calls. And don’t even pretend you don’t know when I’m calling.”

  His eyes dropped to her ringless finger. “So, where’s Jayson?”

  “Shouldn’t I ask you that question?” Her blue eyes narrowed as perfect brows pulled together in accusation. “Been to Hawaii lately?”

  An enormous lump formed in his throat. He swallowed. Again. He cleared his throat then said, “I assure you, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “Really? So, you haven’t been to Hawaii in the last two weeks?”

  His head felt heavy on his shoulders, knowing how pitiful his answer would sound. “I have.”

  The blue of her eyes misted with tears. “Did you see Jayson?”

  “Yes.” He didn’t understand her line of questioning. “But—”

  “No, you don’t get to talk right now.” She stepped further away from him, until she tumbled into the overstuffed leather couch near the fireplace. She shifted and straightened, but didn’t stand again. Nikolai wondered if her knees would even allow her to.

  “Gabrielle.” Nikolai rushed over to her, kneeling at her feet. He took her hand in his and lifted it to his lips. The taste of her was overwhelming. It had been far too long. “My beloved, Gabrielle.” The words sounded like a psalm.

  She pulled her hand from his, a tear slid down her cheek. Her heart rate skittered then pounded. “Don’t. Please don’t call me that. I can’t—”

  She opened her mouth, closed it, and shook her head as if she had suddenly changed her mind. Her teeth audibly clamped together. Not only could he sense her emotions, he could smell them! Right now his home reeked of lemongrass and coconut, burnt rubber and wet dog.

  She stood, toppling him over backwards. His ass hit the carpet and he hurried to stand. He crossed his arms over his chest and watched her pace. Back and forth. Back and forth.

  Just when he worried she might wear a hole in the wood floor, she turned and strode right up to him. “Rumor has it you’re … different.”

  “Different? How?”

  A sigh heaved from her and it seemed some of her fire left with it. Her shoulders sagged and she stared at her hot-as-hell heels. Nikolai placed a finger on her chin and lifted her face. Their eyes met and panic reflected in hers.

  “I need you to be honest with me,” she whispered.

  “I promise.” And he meant it.

  “Are you … a—” She paused and shook her head. “I can’t believe I’m gonna ask you this.”

  “Ask me anything, bebelus.”

  Another long sigh. “Are you a vampire?”

  All the air was sucked out of the room. Nikolai stared at her, blinked—and blinked.

  “Nikolai?” She stepped closer to him. “Please.”

  His beating heart stopped for a moment before slamming around in his chest. He turned his back to her, sucked in one breath, then another and another. If he lived to be a thousand years old, he never would have expected that question.

  “Dammit.” Her hands curled around his arm, tugged to turn him, but he didn’t budge. She yanked harder. “Niko, if you care about me at all, you—”

  “Don’t,” he growled. His fists tightened, he whirled around and stared down at the small woman, who stood confidently inches from him. “I love you, Gabrielle Ryan.”

  “Because I am your … heartmate.”

  “How did you—”

  “It doesn’t matter how I know.” She stepped close
r to him, her eyes flashing in challenge. “I know.”

  “Do you know what that means, Gabrielle? To be my heartmate?” He found himself snarling the words that should have been whispered in an intimate moment of communion.

  “I have my suspicions,” she growled back at him.

  She shook her head, her eyes wide. Her heart thundered in her chest and he could hear the increased rate of blood flow. She straightened her shoulders and met the intensity of his gaze with an intensity all her own.

  Emotions of every kind flowed through her. He could sense them, taste them as they radiated off her. Pure and utter irritation slammed into him, raising red flags and questions—lots of how’s, where’s, and why’s.

  Her eyes bored into his, filled with a million unrelenting questions. Questions, Nikolai knew needed to be answered. Fear swamped him, threatened to drown him. He watched her suck her bottom lip between her teeth.

  “You are a vampire.” Not a question.

  “Yes.”

  She took a step back as though his answer frightened her, but kept eye contact. “And I am your heartmate?”

  “Yes.”

  “Rumor has it, Nikolai, that a male never allows his heartmate to marry another. Is that true?”

  “Yes.”

  Her hands wrung against each other. She shifted from foot to foot and looked away, expression pained.

  “Gabrielle, I must tell you a story and I hope that history will explain what I cannot.” Nikolai could hear the pain in his voice. When her eyes flicked to his it was obvious she’d heard it too.

  “I’m listening.”

  “My mother…” He paused to clear his throat when it cracked. He hated this story. Hated his father. “My father was a bastard.”

  One auburn brow lifted and Gabrielle folded her arms. “I don’t see what your parentage has to do with anything.”

  Nikolai felt his eyes narrow in a glare. “Don’t play naïve, Gabrielle. If you want the story, I’ll tell it to you.”

  She gestured for him to continue.

  “My mother was engaged to a man she loved. The day before her wedding she went to the marketplace, shopping with her sisters.” His chest tightened. “She accidentally bumped into a man that afternoon. And in that moment everything changed for her—and for him. That night he came to her tent and took her. She was his heartmate. He took away her choice. He took away … everything she’d ever known. Everything she’d ever loved.”