Forbidden Darkness (Immortal Desire Series Book 1)

by Scarlett West

  “Have another beer.” Andis offered Sarma another open bottle. He gave her a sleazy wink.

  “No, no thanks.” Sarma abruptly turned away. The earlier unwelcomed attraction to him made her stomach queasy. She looked forward to getting away from him. After lunch, Sarma and Marita packed their things, said goodbye, and left.

  ~ * ~

  On the train back to the capital, the thump of the tracks didn’t soothe Sarma. Why did Andis mesmerize her? She couldn’t shake the draw to him from her mind nor explain the impression that he had held her captive.

  Nothing made sense. The attraction to GQ. The impression that those twins followed her. That horrible feeling something happened the first night. A person in the shadows. She hadn’t slept well for a week because her days somersaulted from the jet lag. All of it blurred reality.

  Her head whirled like an out-of-control carnival ride flying off the tracks. Something had occurred with Andis. Hadn’t it? Reviewing the events didn’t prove anything. Sarma distracted herself with the passengers and their bundles. Elderly women sat next to Sarma and Marita. They carried buckets brimming with berries. Children remained seated with their bags on their laps, and no one said a word until an attendant came by and checked their tickets.

  Out the window, the countryside interspersed with small towns rolled by. A few horses frolicked in a field. She wished Derek would have answered the phone to ask how their horses, Amber and Duke, were doing. Amber, her lovely caramel horse that she’d raised from a colt and rode on her days off. She loved spending her time brushing and grooming them both, even if Duke was officially Derek’s horse. Funny, she missed Amber and Duke more than Derek.

  She recalled the last night she spent with Derek before they broke up. The sex was pleasant. That’s how it always was—nice but nothing exciting. As she remembered that, the stranger’s vague image returned. He aroused her more than any man ever had. On top of that, Derek had always been busy with a startup computer company, and never had much time to spend with her. Even on weekends. For some reason, he didn’t want to introduce Sarma to his family.

  A month ago, Sarma had a sinking feeling he was dating someone else. That’s how she remembered when she had slept with him the last time. A week after they had sex, she found an old receipt in his jeans’ pocket from a restaurant with a note on it. “Baby, thanks for the best night ever. Lenora.” From then on, she planned on breaking it off but hadn’t found the right moment. Until right before her trip. With or without GQ, she’d made the right decision.

  The train halted, and they squeezed off with the throng onto the platforms of Riga’s Central Train Station. Outside, a crowd churned. With only a couple of days until Jani, people hurried from place to place.

  Sarma had been to smaller festivities for Jani back home, but it was nothing compared to the huge celebration in Latvia for the biggest holiday of the year. Her skin buzzed with the thrill. Wow, to be in Latvia during Jani. As she and Marita headed for the tram, people rushed into shops before they abandoned the city for the green countryside. In a few days, thousands of bonfires would burn all night with singing, eating, and dancing.

  In the tram, the sight of everyone with full grocery bags made her stomach giddy. She grinned at Marita. They squeezed between passengers who held their spots like iron bars in cement. Sarma understood some words. The mechanized voice overhead repeated, “Nākamā pietura,” next stop, as the tram slowed.

  Marita hugged her bag close and leaned toward Sarma. “Andis sure had an eyeful of you, huh?”

  “A little too much,” Sarma grumped.

  “It’s no big deal. You’re good looking, and we’re on vacation, Sarma.” Marita snickered as they pushed their way down the tram stairs toward home.

  Sarma rolled her eyes. Every time she tried to explain her suspicions, Marita doubted her. With no one to share the strange events of the past few days, Sarma felt alone. Something awful happened at the beach. Andis imprisoned her with his eyes—and it scared her. She wanted to believe she didn’t invent these events, but in truth, she couldn’t be sure of anything. Her stomach gripped with fear, and she hoped she would never see any of them again.

  Gunita’s warnings blared in her mind.

  Chapter 7

  Riga’s Central Market hummed with activity but the tension that never left Sarma on the trip made it difficult to enjoy the shopping trip. Once Zeppelin hangers, the five large warehouses were filled with bread, fish, meat, and dairy. Outside spaces were crammed with fresh fruit and vegetable vendors. Erika and Janis led Sarma and Marita through the teeming crowd.

  Erika switched between Latvian and Russian as she collected all the items she needed. Sarma, Janis, and Marita carried the grocery bags. Over the buzz of voices, Sarma marveled at the place, but kept looking over her shoulder. GQ’s face continued to hover in her mind and entertained a fantasy of him somehow finding her and asking her out on a date.

  Fat chance. They walked through rows of counters and refrigerators. Cold salads and sausages sold for outdoor picnicking. Customers crowded vendors. Sarma kept close to Erika as they wove between people who waited in long lines.

  “Sarma?” someone called from within the crowd.

  She turned to see Ilze zipping toward her. A sense of dread dragged through her. What was Ilze doing here? Was Andis with her?

  “You look ready for Jani. Your first time in Latvia, right?” Ilze shuffled her bag of groceries from one arm to the other, balancing it on her hip. “Where are you celebrating?”

  Dumbfounded, Sarma just stared at her. She had a hunch Ilze’s interest was more than simple curiosity.

  “Salacgriva.” Marita filled in the blank space with a flat, abrupt tone.

  “Sounds very nice. Many people go there.” Ilze’s response was stiff.

  “Can I help you?” the vendor interrupted.

  “We’re up,” Marita said, giving Sarma a light push.

  Sarma abruptly turned away from Ilze who disappeared into the crowd.

  “Very pretty girl.” Janis jerked his head in Ilze’s direction. “Where did you meet her?”

  “Jurmala. Yeah, pretty, but something’s off,” Sarma answered. “Don’t you think it’s odd, Marita?” She hoped Marita would agree.

  “What do you mean?”

  “We met her yesterday at the beach, and here she is again,” Sarma replied.

  “It’s a common place to shop,” Janis explained.

  “That’s true. It’s not that strange she’s here. Everybody is,” Marita said with a smile.

  Sarma couldn’t write the situation off as easily. As if she agreed, she smiled tightly. Why couldn’t Marita acknowledge something weird was going on?

  On the way back to the car, Lilija met up with them. “Sarma, did you like the food during your visit with us?”

  “Erika’s a great cook. Everything was delicious.” Sarma's face wrinkled when she flashed on the silhouette in the shadows the other evening.

  “Everything okay?” Lilija brushed her arm.

  “I’m a little tired. I hope I packed the right things for the next few days.” Sarma laughed off her lie.

  The four youngsters packed the food into Janis’ car and headed north, following his parents, driving ahead of them. Riga soon disappeared, and the road opened to green countryside. They rolled past fields with tilled land, and farmsteads, with barns sprawled around them.

  Lilija sat next to her in the back seat and pointed out interesting sights through the windows. Sarma only half listened, her mind wandering back to GQ. The desire she’d felt in the club snaked up her body. Her face flushed, and she was glad she faced the window. Shaking her head, she concentrated on Lilija’s voice explaining the symbol on several barn rooftops.

  “It’s a diagonal cross bent down on both sides,” Lilija said. “A symbol of Jumis, the pagan fertility god. The flat, wooden planks represent a double wheat stalk heavy with grain, broken at the shaft,” Lilija clarified. “People build it on their homes to ensure a
bundance and success.”

  Along the way, both cars stopped, and they all hopped out to purchase smoked fish from a wooden shack on the side of the road. An elder woman and man greeted them at a table. A red, paisley handkerchief covered the woman’s head. Her skin resembled a prune. Despite the warm afternoon, she wore a thick, black coat over her dress, stockings, and leather men’s shoes.

  Sarma hung back while Erika picked some items. The old woman’s eyes bored into her. Hoping for validation, Sarma glanced at Marita who was engaged in conversation with the old man. Uncomfortable, Sarma shifted her eyes toward the car.

  “She wants to know where you’re from.” Marita tugged on Sarma’s hand and translated.

  “Well, just answer since you already know.” Sarma stiffened. The woman examined Sarma with keen eyes. What’s with these people?

  “She wants to give you something. She says you’ll need this.”

  The woman slipped a round, silver disk into Sarma's palm. Sarma opened her hand to examine it. An eight-sided, geometric star was carved on one side. On the other sat a symmetrical, four-sided cross that had shorter lines crossing each end. She pointed and spoke about each symbol. Marita listened intently then turned to Sarma.

  “This one is called Auseklis. He’s the Morning Star and symbolizes light winning over darkness, protection against evil. On the other side is Māra's Cross. Māra is the Goddess Mother Earth, and she protects women.”

  “Evil? Why would I need to be protected from evil?” Alarmed, Sarma asked the woman directly though she didn't understand.

  She waved her hand in the air, whispering, “nekas,” then turned and shuffled back to the shack.

  “What does that mean?” Sarma's face soured to a puckered gape.

  “It means 'nothing.'“

  “Wait, why do I need this?” Sarma followed, lifting the disk in the air.

  “Vecu sievu pasakas,” the withered man said, shooing them away.

  “What did he say,” Sarma demanded.

  “He said it was an old wives’ tale. Silliness,” Marita replied. “C’mon, everyone’s already back in the car.”

  “You heard that, Marita. She gave me the coin to protect me from evil. This is starting to get to me.”

  “The guy said it was nothing,” Marita said, opening the car door.

  Sarma wanted to grab Marita and shake her. Instead, she slid into the car. Maybe her mother’s anxiety over the even number of flowers was valid. Did her mother’s superstitions carry more weight than she previously considered?

  Sarma's stomach knotted and the ache in her shoulder returned. The disk was pretty, and she liked the meaning, but why did she need protection against evil? Why not Marita? Gunita never told her folk stories from Latvia, yet her recent warning resounded in her ears. She slipped the talisman into her jeans pocket and tried to concentrate on the greenery out the window. Yet, the more she tried to enjoy the scenery, the more it sunk into her that the trip was a bad idea.

  ~ * ~

  Dita scanned her herbal room in Majori, contemplating what to mix with her blood for the elixir. Herbs supplemented all vampires’ healing, but the House of the White Swan vampires depended on them more than ever. Their bodies healed but at a slower, weaker pace.

  Repulsed by her children’s dismal failure to engage Sarma, Dita cooked up a batch of the potion. Damn them. And damn the twins for not letting her know they’d found Sarma first. Of course, they feared her, so they didn’t want to tell her the truth. That they’d had Sarma and she’d slipped through their hands. But Dita always discovered the truth. One dark way or another.

  Inside the pot, she added and mixed the ingredients together. She never made this particular concoction before, but her children’s mind control skills were useless. With several drops of the liquid, Sarma would fall under Gatis’ complete control.

  It was imperative that Auseklis was born through her line so she could restore her power and build the House of White Swan’s elders back to eight again. To Laima, Auseklis would heal the strife between their families and unite all vampires. But for Dita, the child would be powerful and bright like the Morning Star at dawn, ready for guidance by her to annihilate Laima’s family. That would be the beginning. His potential would be limitless.

  Dita sliced her middle finger open with a knife and mixed a few drops of blood into the herbs. Heating it over a low flame, she muttered to the preparation and focused her intentions as she stirred. When ready, she turned off the brew and let it cool.

  Smelling her own blood brought hunger. She went to the feeding room and drew out a rat from one of the cages. The rodent squealed as she ripped off his head and sucked its blood dry. Vermin blood fed her darkness. Her entire being sought to crush Laima’s heart the way hers had been destroyed. Rudis’ death dealt a strong blow, but not enough to stop Dita. Above all, Laima cherished her son, and future grandson. Killing Reinis was unlikely, but with the elixir, Gatis’ would rip everything out of the House of Black Swan’s hands. One day she would end Laima’s life, but for now, making her suffer tasted even better than death.

  Chapter 8

  After his run-in with Gatis, Reinis wandered around Old Riga hoping to run into Sirsniņa. He walked the streets and scanned the clubs, but his mission was futile. Her behavior and clothing suggested she was a tourist. Latvia swarmed with visitors this time of year. Frustrated, he headed to his family’s apartment, a quiet neighborhood of tall, concrete buildings in Zolitūde, in Riga’s suburbs.

  He flopped onto the couch and stared at the ceiling and waited for his mother. A gifted healer and one of The House of the Black Swan’s eight elders, Laima’s abilities were potent. On hearing her, he cleared his mind so she wouldn’t sense his thoughts about a human. Laima arrived in Riga from Liepaja, which was about three hours by car from the capital. Though slow, driving was another necessary aspect of life they mimicked to appear human.

  “Where's Velta?” Laima inquired, kissing him on the cheek and setting the bags down.

  “Nezinu.” Don't know, he replied as he sat up straight. “Haven't seen her in a few days. Any more bags to bring up?”

  “No.” She left the groceries on the table—after all, the food wasn’t necessary for them. It was a cover during group events like Jani.

  Reinis glanced at Laima who sighed, her brow furrowed. He didn’t need to read her mind to know what she worried about. Both he and Laima had reached out to Velta, who suffered terribly after their father was murdered. Laima’s patience for her children endured after the love of her life was assassinated, yet Velta continued to refuse the comfort offered.

  Besides her mercurial moods, his sister was furious about his supposed attraction to the human. And when she was pissed, she stayed away. It saddened Reinis, but Velta wouldn’t listen to anyone. When she was nearby he protected her, but he could do nothing if she departed on travels. Strong, agile, and intelligent, his sister was skillful, but at one-hundred fifty years old, trouble followed her everywhere, especially when she was upset. Which was often.

  “I have a new assignment, Reinis.” She sat down next to him on the couch.

  Laima was gorgeous. Named after Laima, the goddess of fate and happiness, she was a tall, womanly figure. Her high cheekbones and olive green eyes, flecked with gold, added to her natural beauty. Wavy black hair swept down her back and over her smooth, ivory skin. He especially loved the beauty mark to the right of her upper lip.

  She seemed lost in thought. After a few moments, she turned to Reinis. “This is the most important task of your life. You must find a specific woman. And find her fast. She is no ordinary woman. Human, but special. You will need all of your concentration. Dita's family has already discovered her.” She squeezed both of his hands.

  Gatis’ words flooded his mind. He moved to the edge of the couch. She’s arrived. We’ve found her. It occurred to him why Laima had been tense a week ago. But now, Laima’s eyes were bright, without a hint of fear or hesitation.

  “No ma
tter.” Laima tugged on his hands. “She's the one from the dreams. The one seen in our visions.”

  Among all Latvian vampires, his mother was the most vivid dreamer. Together the eight House of the Black Swan’s elders drank mugwort tea, made an inquiry, and received the answer in a collective dream. Considered authoritative, the shared vision brought answers to the most important questions.

  She flipped a picture over and placed it in Reinis’ hands. His breath cut short as if someone socked him in the stomach. The photograph was of her, the woman from the club, strolling down a Riga street in a red, spaghetti-strapped sundress. Her straight hair spilled over her shoulders and her beauty radiated around her in an aura. Although the picture of her dazed him, it was critical to control his reactions.

  “Why do you make that face?” Laima examined his expression.

  She scanned his mind. “I saw her the other night. That's all.” Under no circumstances did he want his mother to sense his desire. She would cancel the duty if emotions were involved.

  “Where?” Laima smoothed her hands over her skirt, pursing her lips.

  “You're right. Dita's family found her at a nightclub in Riga.” He focused his energy to stop his churning stomach.

  “How did it go?”

  “I don’t know. Only the twins were there. I thought nothing of it at the time.”

  Laima exhaled sharply. “Are you sure?”

  Was Laima suspicious? He never reacted to pictures. His usual response would be to answer, ‘Yes, yes, Mother,' and then go on with business.

  “I was surprised. Gatis approached me about her, but I didn’t know what he was talking about.”

  “Why would he tell you?” Laima made a point of looking directly into Reinis’ eyes.

  “You know, Gatis,” Reinis said quickly. “Besides the fact that he’s a moron, he likes to gloat.”