Immortal Echoes (Haunting Echoes Book 2)

by Caethes Faron

  As soon as she mentioned leaving, Amaia sensed anxiety in Michael’s aura. She looked to his face and saw tension there. “I’ll be safe, Michael. I promise I’ll always return.”

  “I know you will if you can, but what if another vampire finds you and decides to collect the bounty on your head? You’d have to run without me. We can’t risk you being killed, not when death is permanent for you, and no grave has ever been able to hold me.”

  Amaia’s heart ached for the tremendous stress Michael must have been under the last day, and it never seemed to end for him. Despite his restful sleep, he had a nervous energy about him that needed to be drained, and his gray eyes showed his emotional exhaustion. She captured his mouth with her own in a kiss. She tried to hold back her own physical desires in deference to his need for reassurance, but she couldn’t entirely control the thrill in her core at the touch of their lips.

  Michael unconsciously drank in her energy. Amaia didn’t care. She wouldn’t withdraw her comfort. She deepened the kiss and maneuvered herself, never parting lips until she was situated on top of him. During the night, she had taken the time to memorize the new face surrounding the gray eyes that never changed. While her night vision was superb, the faint morning sunlight made him even more attractive. She approached for another kiss.

  “No, Amaia.” Michael turned his head. “I’m fine. We can wait until later when you’re not so sore.”

  Amaia contained her amusement, not wanting to offend him when he only worried about her. “I told you last night. You couldn’t hurt me if you tried.”

  “I was too rough with you, especially after such a stretch of celibacy. You don’t fool me. Despite your many protestations that sex is a commodity you trade in, your heart is as full of romantic notions as mine. I know you abstained in my absence.”

  He was right. The thought of being with someone else had felt wrong, which was ridiculous. It was just sex, and it wasn’t as if she could ever feel something for another human. Still, thoughts of Michael had chased away any chance she would have had at physical pleasure. Their lovemaking genuinely was better than anything she had ever experienced. “There’s no such thing as too rough. Besides, you may be able to wait, but I can’t. You’re this hard for me, and you’ve only been awake for a few minutes. Imagine how I ache having watched you all night.”

  Michael’s eyes widened, and Amaia swayed her hips a little to provide him with more proof of her willingness.

  “If you’re worried about me, just relax, and let me take control.” Amaia slid down, taking him inside her. His gasped breath satisfied her that there would be no more protestations. She undulated on top of him, moving in a way she knew would be visually pleasing for him and physically pleasurable for her. Normally, he didn’t like her using any of the tricks she had learned as a courtesan, but there was no reason he shouldn’t benefit from her skills when so many other men had. It’d be a waste of her talents if she didn’t perform them for him, since he would be the only man she slept with for the rest of time.

  Michael’s hands ran up her legs and gripped her thighs. He thrust beneath her, but she maintained her slow rhythm and moved her legs to pin his hips to the bed. She leaned back, her breasts out of his reach, and began to play with one of her nipples while her other hand traveled down to stroke herself. Her hips continued their movement as she brought herself closer to orgasm. Each twitch of Michael’s legs was met with her superior strength keeping him still. If he were a client, she’d let him have his way and would only tease for a moment, but he didn’t want to be treated like a client.

  “Amaia, dear, I’m beginning to think you’re punishing me for something. Whatever it is, I’m sorry. I’ll do whatever you want. Just please go a little faster.”

  “Faster? But I thought you were worried about my delicate sex.”

  Michael groaned. “You minx. I’ve learned my lesson. I promise.” He renewed his efforts to move, but she didn’t give.

  “And what lesson is that?”

  She saw the confusion in his eyes as he searched for an answer. “You’re always right.”

  Amaia didn’t hold back her laughter. “That’ll do.” As soon as the words left her mouth, she picked up speed and clenched her inner muscles around him with each stroke. Michael grasped her hips, seeking leverage. As soon as he quickened his pace, Amaia seized the opportunity and shouted as she came. She barely noticed Michael’s orgasm as shudders of pleasure coursed through her.

  “Sweetheart, please.” Michael hissed through his teeth.

  Amaia focused on him beneath her, realizing that her body still contracted around his softening cock. Reluctantly, she rolled off of him and nestled against his chest. “Sorry, that was just so incredible.”

  “Yes, I have that effect.”

  She playfully smacked his chest. “Maybe next time, you’ll trust me when I want to have sex.”

  “You’re right. Don’t listen to me. I was being stupid before. Any time you feel the need to do that again, you go right ahead.”

  A pleasant silence engulfed them as Amaia ran her hand up and down Michael’s chest, watching the gooseflesh rise in her wake. The sun shone through the window, but it didn’t bring enough heat to warm Michael’s skin. She’d need to build up the fire again, but she worried that if she rose from the bed, Michael would follow her, and she didn’t want to end this blissful morning.

  “I love that you still wear it.” Michael’s voice startled Amaia from her thoughts.

  The sunlight danced in the rubies encircling the pearl centerpiece of her ring. She wondered how much of its beauty Michael’s mortal eyes could see. “It’s the only thing I’ve owned that has any sentimental value. I’m afraid it’s about due for another trip to the jeweler’s.”

  “I’m sure there will be some masterful craftsman in Paris who can do it justice.”

  “Paris?” Amaia gazed up at him.

  “Yes. That’s what we agreed upon, isn’t it? Unless there’s some reason it’s not safe.”

  Amaia sensed the genuine fear he tried to keep at bay. It must be so scary for him, knowing that he couldn’t protect her. “None. I’ve run for so long that Meg’s convinced Zenas has forgotten all about me. I’ve become even better at masking my energy since we made our plans. I’ll even be able to mask yours from Lawrence, should he come looking.”

  “Do you think he will?”

  “Yes. Zenas may have forgotten about me for the moment, but Lawrence will never forget. Or forgive.”

  “He scares you more than Zenas does.”

  She nodded. “I insulted Lawrence personally. He won’t take that lightly, not from me. I don’t even think you can comprehend that level of betrayal. Our bond as sire and child is stronger than any mortal bond.”

  Michael’s arm tightened around her waist. “It can’t be. Our bond is stronger. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have chosen me over him.”

  Amaia smiled. “You’re right. Stronger is the wrong word. Different. Then again, everything’s different as a vampire. More intense. There’s a certain intimacy to communicating with another person’s mind.” As soon as she said it, she wished she could take it back. Michael had never liked Lawrence, and he didn’t need the reminder of his link to her.

  A loud grumble from his stomach broke the uncomfortable silence. Amaia giggled. “Maybe you should spend less time worrying about me and more taking care of yourself. Do you want me to make you something?”

  “Depends. How much time did you spend cooking during the last twenty years?”

  “None.”

  “Then no. I can manage on my own.” Michael rose and retrieved his robe from in front of the fire.

  “But I’ve cooked for you before.” She knew her cooking skills weren’t noteworthy, but she had thought they were passable.

  “Yes, but that was back when I was still trying to win you. You should be happy I’m confident enough you’ll stay that I can be honest with you about these things.” Michael grinned and held out a dark
green silk robe for her.

  Amaia huffed, snatched the robe from his hands, and put it on. “Fine, eat your nasty human food. It’s not like I have to eat with you.” She was capable of eating more than blood, but it wouldn’t sustain her.

  “No, but you can keep me company.” Michael drew her to him and kissed her.

  On their way downstairs, Michael never took his arm from around her waist. They were alone in the privacy of their own home. The day would be what they made of it, unencumbered by the threat of other vampires. She had run right into the kind of domestic mundaneness she had spent her mortal life trying to flee. She couldn’t imagine being any happier.

  Chapter 4

  Michael would have enjoyed serving Amaia breakfast in bed, pampering her the way a lady should be. Instead, she sat at the small wooden table in the kitchen, her robe open. Michael had to push down the natural concern about her catching a chill. One more little reminder she wasn’t human, despite her appearance. Most of the time, it was easier to imagine she was human, but he couldn’t deny there were some benefits to her being a vampire. The view of her mostly naked form was a pleasant distraction while he made breakfast.

  “Perhaps I should have mentioned this earlier when we were talking about the dietary changes I’ve made, but I hope you’re not planning on eating bacon this morning.”

  Michael retrieved some bread to toast. “Really? Why?”

  “I’ve developed a deep conviction that killing animals for food is immoral. I don’t approve of you eating them.” The corners of Amaia’s mouth twitched, as if she only just held back her smile.

  Michael laughed. “All right. No more meat then.” He didn’t mind making a sacrifice for her, even though it paled in comparison to the one she made, and even though he knew she had developed no such conviction.

  While he assembled a small breakfast, he decided to dispense with an uncomfortable question so they could enjoy the rest of the morning. “Has Lawrence contacted you?”

  “No. He hasn’t used our mental link to talk to me at all. The last time we spoke was the night I left.”

  The knowledge of their mental link had always made Michael uncomfortable. From the beginning, he had never liked Lawrence. When Amaia was still the mortal Jocelyn, Michael had seen the way Lawrence manipulated her. He had rescued her from the gutter and turned her into one of the finest courtesans in London. In a world where love had never been real for her, she had clung to Lawrence with fierce loyalty. Michael had understood that, but he didn’t like it. However, Amaia would have been able to escape his manipulations while she was still human. Michael would never be able to forgive Lawrence for turning his angel into a vampire and cursing them both to this existence. It still irked Michael that Lawrence had given Amaia her name. For a long time, Michael insisted on calling her Jocelyn in his mind. Now Jocelyn was a memory. Amaia was his future.

  “Good.” Michael took his bread, preserves, cheese, and pickled eggs to the table. He wouldn’t give Lawrence another thought. He’d already stolen enough. Michael wouldn’t allow him to steal these moments as well. “I’ve saved up some money. The sale of the house should provide us with enough to last until I’ve found work in Paris.”

  “Work? There’s no need for you to work, Michael. I can take some money from one of Zenas’s houses. I’ve never been caught when I’ve done it in the past.”

  Michael bristled. “I’ll not have us living off his money.”

  “You realize I earned him more than we could possibly spend.”

  “I want to be the one to take care of you, Amaia. Don’t you trust that I can do that?”

  “Of course I do, but there’s no reason for you to have to. We’ve spent so much time apart. I can’t bear the thought of you leaving me for most of the day to work. You already leave me alone at night. Don’t you think we owe it to ourselves to make the most of this time we have?”

  Michael covered her hand with his. “You know I want nothing more than to spend every waking moment with you, but I want us to create a life together. I want to provide for you.”

  “You want to pretend like you’re not going to die in four years.”

  The words winded him. He didn’t want to face the truth. No man in his situation would.

  “I understand, Michael. But acting like any other normal couple won’t make us one. All it will do is waste the time we have. If I could change things, I would. Nothing would make me happier than working by your side for a lifetime and then dying old in our beds. If I could go back in time, our bones would be buried at Dover. I’d go back to being mortal, give back my sharpened senses and eternal youth, if it meant having one real lifetime with you. But I can’t. One selfish, insecure moment, and I condemned us to this life.”

  “Stop. I won’t have you blaming yourself. God, Amaia, please tell me you’re not carrying guilt over that.”

  Amaia gave a mirthless chuckle. “Guilt? No. I’m not capable of it. Regret? Yes.”

  As much as Michael hated the thought of becoming a vampire, sometimes it’d be worth it just to be in a position to wring Lawrence’s neck for what he did to Amaia. He couldn’t very well chide her for holding on to past mistakes if he kept harboring hatred for Lawrence. As much as he wanted to harbor no ill will toward any of God’s creatures, surely that didn’t include evil, manipulative, bastard vampires like Lawrence. No, he felt certain that if the day should ever come when he could kill Lawrence, God would have no problem forgiving him if he could muster the necessary remorse. He’d just have to accept his desire to kill Lawrence as one of his mortal imperfections.

  An idea had lurked in Michael’s mind for years, one that he hadn’t dared give voice to, but Amaia had conveniently given him an opening. “So if there were a way for you to turn mortal again, you’d do it?”

  The question clearly surprised her. Michael saw in her eyes she had never seriously considered it before. “It isn’t possible.”

  “But what if it were?”

  “It isn’t.”

  “Indulge me. If tomorrow, you were able to wake up as a human again with me and the process caused you no pain, would you do it?”

  “To be with you, yes.” Her firm voice left no doubt that she spoke the truth, but something more lurked in her eyes.

  “But otherwise you wouldn’t want to.”

  “I would do anything for us to have a normal life together, but I’ve made no secret of the fact that I prefer being a vampire to being human. The only thing that could get me to turn back is the promise of a life with you.”

  Michael supposed that had to be enough. “I think we should try to find a way to reverse the transformation.”

  “It can’t be done, Michael.”

  “How do you know?”

  “If it were possible, I would have heard.”

  “Well, if other vampires feel the same way you do, then it’s likely to be a rare occurrence even if it is possible.”

  “Zenas is obsessed with knowledge. If such a process existed, he would know and make no secret of it, if for no other reason than to threaten wayward members of his clan with mortality.”

  “Didn’t you tell me once that you spent some time in the East with some monks who knew about reincarnation and knew what you were? Perhaps they know something we don’t.” He’d done some of his own reading about souls and different theories on vampires. Like most human beliefs about vampires, everything he’d found seemed ridiculous. Besides, his Amaia had a soul.

  “Exactly, if there were some way to make me mortal again, I would have heard about it there.”

  “Why? You’ve had no cause to look before.”

  “I’m not going to waste our time looking for something that doesn’t exist.”

  Michael sighed. “You’re right. I don’t want you spending your time in pursuit of it either, but perhaps you could ask around. You’ve told me you have vampire friends. Just ask them for me. See if they’ve heard of something.” Michael brushed his thumb along her cheek as he held her
gaze, wanting a sliver of hope that there might be some end to this eternal cycle.

  “I can leave a note at Notre Dame for Meg. We’ve started exchanging letters there. She’s not a part of Zenas’s clan, so she may have heard something he doesn’t know. Don’t get your hopes up, though. She would have told me if she knew of a way to reverse the transformation.”

  Michael squeezed her hand. “Thank you. That’s all I wanted.”

  “I’ll go tonight.”

  “No. I don’t want to be apart for that long. We’ll start the journey together tomorrow.”

  “But what about this house?”

  “This was never meant to be home, only a resting place. A brief honeymoon perhaps. I’ve already got a buyer for it. I have a solicitor in town who will handle the transaction.”

  Amaia narrowed her eyes. “What if I hadn’t shown up?”

  “Oh, I knew you would.” He’d planned his entire life knowing she’d keep her word to him. There was no reason to vocalize the nerves and fears he’d felt waiting last night. Besides, she’d have been able to sense them. It didn’t matter now. He had just over four years left in this life, and he’d spend them with Amaia in Paris. All was right with the world.

  Chapter 5

  Four years later, Paris, 1847

  He should have gone with Amaia to Notre Dame, but she’d insisted she wouldn’t be gone long. They were going to the theater to see The Dog of Montarges, and Michael had stayed behind to get ready for the evening. It’d been more than an hour, though. Something must be wrong. If Amaia were any other woman, he’d assume she’d been waylaid by friends and gotten caught up in conversation. But there was no one, especially no mortal, Amaia wanted to speak with. There should have been some relief in the knowledge that no mortal could hurt her. He didn’t have to worry about her being robbed or raped. The thought would have brought comfort if it didn’t reinforce the fact that only one thing could cause the delay: vampires.