Beautiful Eternity
By
Alicia Deters
Copyright
Copyright © 2017 by Alicia Deters
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Cover design by Tugboat Design
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Epilogue
Acknowledgements
For those who have stuck with me through this series, you’re the best!
~
In the vastness of my immortal being, all nineteen years of it, I’ve deconstructed my existence into two derivatives.
Hate.
Love.
One, I’ve harnessed into a weapon of total annihilation, and the other I’ve surrendered to completely, prey to the unpredictable whims of its ruthless, sometimes tender mercy.
I used to be willing to die for anything. Vengeance. Wrath. Disgust. Guilt, which topped the list most days. I once thought those intentions were honorable ways to go, and in the back of my mind, I always believed my destiny was to die. For my family. For my friends. For strangers. But now, I’m beginning to think I was put here to live for all of those things.
Killing vampires to save lives was just the obvious choice for so long, but I never appreciated what it was that I was saving. Until someone taught me how to live and how good it could be. These days, I won’t die willingly for anything. If someone wants me dead, they’ll have to fight me for it. And if they go after my family, God help them.
My ultimate downfall could only come from one thing.
Hate may push me to the edge, but it wouldn’t be enough to send me hurtling over it.
But for love…
I’d gracefully take that plunge a thousand times over.
My enemy’s downfall, on the other hand, would come from underestimating that devotion.
Even if this beautifully broken soul of mine was all I had left, it would be enough. I would preserve it at all costs. Or die trying.
1
“No.”
“Yes.”
“No.”
“Yes! Quit being difficult.”
“Me? I think we both know I’m not the difficult one.”
“No. We don’t know that. I know you have delusions about being right all the time. And we both know that’s not true.”
“I said no. You’re not doing it.”
“We also know you have a dictator complex.”
“Lucy,” he warned.
“I don’t see what the big deal is. It’s not that bad.”
I paced in front of the fireplace in Gavin’s swanky St. Louis penthouse, or at least, a manufactured dream replica of it, where we met every time I got a few hours of shuteye.
In reality, we were holed up in some outdated apartment fit for an eighty year old widow with twelve cats, smack dab in the heart of Thunder Bay, Ontario. It’s been less than a week since a group of rogue assassin vampires kidnapped my boyfriend, forced me to attend some strange macabre ball and asked for an alliance against our common enemy, the First.
Pacing through the sunken living room, my tension ebbed slightly. The rich woods and natural elements made this place feel cozy, even though it lacked in the personality department.
That didn’t deter from its warmth, though. The plush couches and smell of sandalwood, mixed with a hint of cedar, were too inviting to not get comfortable here. This place was starting to feel like home to me, and I missed it. One day, we would be able to return.
I felt his eyes on me while I browsed his bookshelf of ancient texts, trying not to doze off just from reading their titles. Where were the fun books he read for entertainment? Oh, that’s right, he didn’t do fun.
But thinking of books reminded me of the last thing I actually read and enjoyed.
“Hey, Gavin. Should I start calling you Wilhem now?” Without turning, I ran my fingers over the spines as I drifted across the hardwood.
During my learn how to be a good, non-biting vampire phase in Canada, I related with some old journals written by a vampire who struggled with control the way I did. It didn’t take long to realize Wilhem Faust was Gavin’s real name. I had been reading his diary. Essentially.
I glanced back at him, and he smirked. “Stick with Gavin, Ms. Masters.”
“When did you change it?” I turned to him with rapt interest.
“When I settled in America, early nineteen hundreds.”
I crossed my arms over my chest and settled against the bookshelves. “Well, Mr. West, I have to say I’m less than impressed with the originality. You moved west, therefore, you needed a fitting surname. Boring.”
“It wasn’t important. Not many things were back then.”
Another short answer. He wasn’t going to let himself get distracted from the real issue at hand, but a part of me also wondered if it had to do with his past life as the evil, pro-fangs kind of vampire. We never talked much about it.
I began pacing as I replayed the consequences of my own actions.
So much has changed in the past six months, and those changes all seemed to revolve around me working with vampires. I was burned once, or fifty times, by that A-hole, Shane Monroe, who put a knife through Gavin’s heart after the assassins’ ball.
Worst night of my life.
The idea of losing him was so bad that I was ready to give up right then and there, on everything and everyone. Killing bad guys used to be a nice hobby of mine, but then I met Gavin. Instead of loneliness and self-loathing keeping me company, there were hearts and flowers everywhere. When that stake pierced his heart, all of that went away, and contrary to my previous beliefs, homicidal tendencies were not a very good substitute for love.
I stopped mid-pace to sneak a glance at him, but he was already watching me. He was across the room, leaning against the kitchen island with his hands tucked in the pockets of his black dress pants. His white collared shirt was rolled up at the sleeves and the top button hung open, giving me a nice peek of the perfection I knew was hiding underneath. I met his hooded gaze and melted just a little more. He was on the other side of the room, but his eyes pierced straight through me the way they always did when he was looking past my walls. What would I do without that intensity of his?
Thankfully, I didn’t have to find out. He was still alive. Mostly.
A soulless vampire would die instantly from a stab wound to the heart. Blood keeps the evil tethered to this world. Without a heart to pump it, the vampire goes poof.
Gavin, on the other hand, has a soul and is fed by something else to keep him alive. A purpose. So long as he’s fulfilling his purpose in life, he can survive just about anything else. However, as it turns out, a blow to the heart makes him comatose. Luckily, through our weird blood connection, we can communicate in dreams, and I figured out a way to wake him up.
It’s been three days since I’ve suggested donating my blood to Gavin in hopes of reviving his stubborn ass, but for some unknown reason he refuses to let me.
“Lucy, there could be serious consequences.”
“But why not at least try? We’ve been through lots of bad things and we’re still here. Whatever happens, we can deal. The important thing is that you will be right by my side where I need you when I take down the First. And Shane. And that other… problem.” I sighed as the weight of my to-do list settled over me.
“If I recall, you said you wouldn’t argue with me anymore if I didn’t leave you. I believe your exact words were ‘I’ll do anything you ask.’” He raised his voice to match mine.
I hardened my glare and responded dryly. “You must have been more out of it than I thought. Did you hit your head during the fall?”
He barked out a laugh before schooling his features. “It’s not going to happen, Ms. Masters.” His voice was commanding and final.
“Oh, no. Don’t you dare do that. Don’t use that tone with me like you’re speaking to a petulant child.” He raised an eyebrow in question. “Say one more word, Mr. West,” I mocked his typical chiding tone, “and I’ll hurt you in places that would make other men weep at just the thought.”
He smiled, like he anticipated it. What a sick man. Another look came over him before he responded. “Do you have any idea how hard it is to not back you against a wall when you get all defiant on me?”
I blanched. “Seriously? Why is it that our relationship is so heavily based on arguments and fighting?”
“Because it’s what we’re good at, and it makes us good together. And it’s not fighting. It’s foreplay.” His words echoed thoughts I had long ago. “Always has been. Except now, I can do this without getting punched.”
He crossed the distance between us in half a second and crushed his lips to mine. At the same time, his hands ran down the length of my sides harshly and yanked me up by the back of my thighs. I had no choice but to wind my legs around him.
He was right. We did do this well.
Aaaannnd… I was effectively distracted.
He cleared his throat and the kiss broke suddenly. He made the most animalistic sound that sent shivers over my skin, penetrating my insides in the most delicious way.
“Lucy,” he exhaled. “If your hands roam any farther south, I may not be able to stop myself from doing things I wanted to wait until we were both back in the real world to do, healthy and capable of experiencing them in the right way.”
I was sure I was blushing even in the dream, and I ducked my head, checking my hand placement. Glancing back up, I looked at him with confusion.
He laughed roughly. “No. Not your subconscious hands. Your real hands. They are dangerously close to places that could wake a dead man.”
I blushed deeper, and my forehead hit his chest in mortification.
“It’s okay, baby. I’m not telling you to stop, by any means. I would just rather be in my own body to do something about it, instead of this watered-down manifestation conjured in my dreams.”
His palm slid across my face to cup my cheek, and he gently lifted my head to meet his gaze. “Hey, open your eyes,” he coaxed.
I obeyed his sweet command.
“When you touch me, I want to be able to feel it all. And I want you to feel everything I’m going to do for you, Lucy. Trust me. When that happens, it will definitely be worth the wait. Until then, I think we should limit our touching in our dreams.”
“But…” I tried protesting but couldn’t think of any logical excuse other than I wanted it. I wanted it bad, and the jerk knew it from the wicked grin spreading across his smug face. And then I wanted to punch him.
We took two steps back from each other to clear our heads, and I slid down to the ground. He sighed before returning to the matter at hand.
“Lucy, I won’t bite you. I won’t go back to those days. Don’t force me.”
I had no idea which ‘days’ he was referencing, but I assumed again it had something to do with his dark past.
“Gavin, you can’t hurt me. I need you by my side.”
“I said no, Lucy.”
Just when I was gearing up for our next round, I felt the familiar tug of consciousness beckoning. There wasn’t much I could do at that point. There’s no period of grogginess or waking up. With vampires, alertness came easily. One second I was staring up at Gavin and the next, I was back in that flowery, yellow apartment room with his inert form lying next to me.
And, dear Lord, he was right about my wandering hand. I snatched it back from the very inappropriate region where it rested.
Bad Lucy.
With nothing but time to waste before we could discuss this matter further, I shot out of bed and decided to clean myself up. I took one look in the mirror in the corner of the room and decided it was time to get a new wardrobe. As much as I loved wearing Gavin’s oversized thermal I had nabbed from his burnt down mansion in Wolf Creek, it was going on a week without a good washing.
Gross.
I leaned down to plant a kiss on Gavin’s cheek and whispered in his ear. “We’re not finished discussing this, so don’t start thinking you’ve won this battle yet, Mr. West.”
I straightened and made my way to the door. Before leaving I turned back to stare at his beautiful angular face and nearly got swept away with emotion. I wanted him back so bad it hurt.
“I need you with me,” I called back to him.
The shabby furniture and overdone Christian symbols greeted me in the next room as the bedroom door clicked softly closed behind me. Being a safe house for the rogue assassins, this place was also used for their human employees, when protection was necessary.
Bibles, crucifixes, and a mix of other sacred symbols came standard in the ‘human’ rooms to repel unwanted vampires. The Shadowmarked never entered residences that had the slightest amount of any religious affiliation. It made them extremely weak and uncomfortable, so they didn’t risk the vulnerability. This was the reason I moved all symbols of God into the main living area, away from Gavin. He was half Shadowmarked, after all.
I chugged a bag of O positive and snagged the apartment keys off the kitchen counter, pocketing my phone in the process. I headed out into the windy Canadian afternoon.
As I wandered down the bustling streets in search of the nearest clothing store, my thumb scrolled hastily through my notifications. There was a missed call from Max, one of the Keepers I met back in Wolf Creek. We’ve been through a lot together, and I would count him among the very few people I trusted.
The Keepers track lineages to find humans who are Bloodmarked, which was just a fancy word meaning that under the right circumstances, those humans could turn into vampires. There’s a whole drawn out history of vampires and the Bloodmarked, but basically, a vampire starts out as a human with cursed blood. When they turn, they need fresh human blood to feed the evil or they die.
Max and the others made it their job to prevent that from happening and even went so far as to hunt and kill the vampires when they couldn’t stop them from turning.
My first few weeks in Canada were spent measuring their degree of crazy, but over time, I gained a deep respect for their courage and strength. The night the First’s army attacked Wolf Creek Manor, they proved how resilient they could be, and I admired their perseverance. We all had our reasons for fighting, and they each taught me that vengeance wasn’t mine alone to take.
I opened up the voicemail from Max. “Lucy, you need to call me back as soon as you get this.”
Max was usually an easy-going guy who enjoyed fighting, so I knew from his brittle tone something bad went down. I scrolled to his contact and hit send. He answered after the first ring.
“Lucy! Finally! We need to talk.”
“What is it? Is everyone okay?”
“No. No one’s heard from Helen yet. The last time anyone spoke to her was the morning after the fire when she told us al
l to split up.” His words came out rushed and filled with panic.
Helen was the designated leader of the Canadian faction of Keepers. She generally held a cool disdain for me, but she was my mother’s best friend before I was born, and she believed in the prophecy about me bringing down evil. And I think she mostly believed I could do it. Sometimes. But I did know she cared about her team.
“Calm down, Max. We’ll find her. Where are you?”
“Some hotel in Michigan.”
“Is anyone else with you?”
“It’s me, Nick, Brody, Allison, and Sophie. Everyone else scattered and refused to leave their hideouts. They won’t meet up with us until we get word from Helen. Rachel took John to the Portland branch to get away from the madness.”
I didn’t blame either of them. The events in Canada rattled everyone.
I let out a sigh of relief at his mention of Sophie. Most of the Keepers were trained for their combat abilities but some served in other ways. Sophie Benson was one of those others. Her skills involved the ability to read for longer than two minutes at a time and to research vampire genealogy and history, skills that never suited my impatience and disinterest in all things educational. She was a tiny wisp of a thing with glasses bigger than her head and the sweetest demeanor I’ve ever encountered. The thought of her facing a vampire sent shivers down my spine.
“Okay, that’s good, Max. Just keep trying to reach Helen. We’ll come meet you guys as soon as we can.”
“Thank, Luce.” He paused a beat. “Wait, we?”
“Oh, yeah. No need to help me write an obituary. Gavin’s comatose, but his heart’s still beating.”
I laughed, realizing I hadn’t talked to anyone else since I found out Gavin was alive. The last time I talked to Max, I was in a bad place and made him believe the contrary.
“Damn, Luce. You scared the hell out of me. To be honest, I was scared to call you back because I wasn’t sure if you’d be in any condition to help.”
Beautiful Eternity (The Bloodmarked Trilogy Book 3) Page 1
