by K. L. Kreig
Happy perhaps.
Maybe even fun.
Fun may be pushing it. Less impenetrable was probably more accurate.
He kept returning to the one thought that niggled the edges of his brain for days, and what could be the only plausible explanation for a possible second Moira. It sounded far-fetched and impossible, but …
He’d never actually bonded with Seraphina. She was his Moira, of that there was no doubt. But there was equally no doubt that Sarah Hill was his Moira. He’d never heard of such a thing, but perhaps, just perhaps, the Fates had given him a second chance.
It was time to get off his ass and take action. He’d already wasted enough time. He’d been putting this off, but there was only one vampire in the world he knew of that may have access to the answers he sought. One he’d intentionally avoided over the last six hundred years.
Looked like it was time to pay his father a visit.
Chapter 3
Sarah
“How did you sleep last night?” her sister asked as Sarah shoveled another scoopful of the best risotto she’d ever tasted into her mouth.
“Good.” Although it came out muffled around the thick rice. Her answer wasn’t entirely untrue, but the dream she’d had still disturbed her even this afternoon. As with so many things lately, she wasn’t really quite sure what to make of it.
Kate laughed. “I’m glad you’re enjoying that. I miss Leo terribly, but Hooker’s been a great replacement. Between his cooking and your cookies, I’ll probably gain fifty pounds before I have this baby.”
Kate looked so happy and Sarah couldn’t help the twinge of jealousy she felt, even though it was wrong. She vaguely wondered how she would ever find someone to make her as happy as Dev made Kate if she stayed here long term.
And she wanted to find it. She wanted the fairytale ending. She wanted the happily ever after. She wanted a house in the quiet country with three kids, a golden retriever and a dozen horses. She’d wanted that since she was a little girl and had played it out many times with her Barbie Dreamhouse, which had come complete with three stories and rope-activated elevator. She’d had so many plastic horses, she’d lost count, but her favorite was a jet-black Arabian horse, which she’d named Spade.
But she wouldn’t find that here because there were no human males wandering around and male vampires only bonded with their Moiras, the one female they were fated to spend eternity with. A concept still a little fuzzy to Sarah. And what were the chances she would find that here with one of the few vampires that Dev allowed into his fortress of an estate?
Umm … do pigs fly?
No. Here, the only thing, any unmated vampire would be interested in, was a blood donor and a romp in the hay. And while the sexy and enigmatic Romaric may or may not find her attractive enough to fuck her, she had no illusions she’d be anything else but that. An itch to scratch and warm sustenance to fulfill his craving. Vampires were highly sexual and she’d be just another in a bevy of babes. But God help her, she was contemplating it and he hadn’t even propositioned her. This vampire had gotten under her skin but good.
“Has the nausea passed?” Sarah needed to get her head out of the clouds and back to reality. Clearly their connection hadn’t been as strong for Romaric as it had been for her.
“For the most part. I still get a little queasy in the evenings, but it’s much better. I’m not sure why they call it morning sickness if I’m not even sick in the mornings.”
“I remember when my mom was pregnant with Jack,” she said wistfully. “I was only ten-years old, but I remember her throwing up all day, every day for what seemed like months.” She laughed, recalling how she’d felt about her new baby brother. “There was some movie out at the time, Omen, about a satanic child. Even though Jack wasn’t born yet, I’d already made up my mind that I didn’t like him because only a devil baby would make his mother so violently ill.”
Kate reached across the table and closed her hand around Sarah’s in sympathy. Sarah had told Kate all about Jack, his long battle with leukemia and his tragic death at the young age of eight. Although it was only six years ago, right after she’d graduated high school, it seemed like a lifetime ago but just yesterday at the same time.
Suddenly guilt stabbed Sarah in the heart. Not only had her parents lost her brother so many years ago, but they’d essentially lost her too. She needed to find a way to visit them. Maybe she could convince Thane to take her.
Just then Dev walked into the kitchen, wrapped his arms around Kate from behind and kissed her softly on the crown of her head. Jealousy, that ungrateful beotch, tried rearing her sinful head, but she tamped her down.
“How was lunch with your sister, my love?”
“It was wonderful.” Kate turned and captured his mouth and feeling like the third, clunky wheel, Sarah turned away until his next sentence caused her to snap back.
“Rom and Damian will be here this evening for a meeting about Geoffrey.” Why he looked directly at Sarah when he spoke, she hadn’t a clue. If he was expecting a rise or a reply from her, he was going to be waiting a hell of a long time. Romaric was coming in for business, not with a handful of flowers and chocolates to woo her. She chose not to react, although there were plenty of snide comments just itching to be let loose.
“I would like to see my parents,” she responded instead.
Both Dev and Kate looked taken aback.
“Really?” Kate questioned.
Not once had she given a hint that she was ready to see her parents and face their wrath in person. Sarah was a terrible liar, not able to get away with anything as a child or teenager. She was pretty much of a goody two-shoes growing up. She’d gotten good grades, followed the rules and been valedictorian of her class. The times she’d acted out could be counted on one hand, but the one in particular that stood out was when she’d skipped school as a junior. That stunt almost caused her to miss her junior prom.
Someone brilliantly dreamt up junior skip day, their class president if she recalled correctly. They were the coolest class, after all, and there was no way they were going to let the seniors show them up with their skip day. Kids forged excuse notes from their parents, none the wiser that the faculty was already onto them.
Living in a smaller community, they headed out to some abandoned grain bins where several kegs were waiting to be consumed by the under-aged band of merry, clueless teenagers. Sarah hadn’t even wanted to go, but she didn’t want to look like a prude either. To this day, she thinks the cops were just waiting for everyone to arrive and start drinking so they could write more tickets. Sarah tried profusely lying to her parents when she got home, but of course, they already knew.
So, before she saw them this time, she’d have to practice her fabricated story in front of the mirror until she convinced herself that the lies she’d told about why she’d been gone all of these months were the truth. If Thane could accompany her, maybe she could persuade them they’d met in Europe, had fallen in love and she couldn’t bear to leave his side.
Yes, that may actually work. Thane would surely be game and with his unruly dark hair and suave good looks, it would be all the more convincing.
“Yes. It’s time. It’s not fair to them that I’ve been gone so long and they were terribly disappointed when I told them I wouldn’t be home for my birthday a few weeks ago.”
“When was your birthday?”
Uh. Oh. Sarah had purposely kept that tidbit of information to herself, not wanting anyone to make a big deal out of it. Besides Kate was out of the country on her honeymoon and that was the time that Analise had been kidnapped and things were in utter chaos. Now Kate would probably be hurt.
“It was July first. Things were kind of crazy around here then anyway.” Wanting to change subjects, she added, “So Dev, do you think Thane would be able to take me?”
He nodded. “That can be arranged. But Sarah, it will need to be a short visit. It’s still too dangerous for you to be out and about.”
&
nbsp; “Define ‘short visit. ’”
“A few hours. Half day at most.”
Disappointment clearly evident on her face, he quickly apologized it couldn’t be longer.
“It’s okay. I understand.”
Goddamn Xavier and his warped mind. She wished nothing more than for the lords to take him out so she could move forward without the crippling weight of wondering whether he was right around the corner waiting to snatch her or one of her sisters again.
“Call your parents. Arrange a time and place. I’ll talk to Thane.”
Sarah knew her parents were likely being watched, which is one of the reasons she’d kept contact to a minimum. Dev had graciously given both her and Kate’s parents a protective detail, even though neither family had a clue they were being defended against the evils that lurked in the night. Literally.
“Thank you.” She smiled tightly. She was grateful, but still angry nonetheless. Not at Dev, but the situation.
Dev gathered Kate by his side indicating he needed her ‘fine ass’ upstairs for something.
Riiiight.
She’d wanted to talk to Kate about her strange dream, but Dev wouldn’t likely take too kindly to her keeping his mate away any longer. They were still very much newlyweds after all and their honeymoon had been cut very short. So yeah, time to get back to the shelter. Because although she loved her sister and her new mate, she sooo did not want to hear them doing the nasty. That had already happened once.
Hearing other people have sex—like strangers—fine. That could even be somewhat of a turn on and if anyone denies that, well … just watch their eyes shift as they lie through their teeth. But hearing your sister ... that’s just plain awkward. Especially when you saw her less than an hour later at the dinner table with the flush of satisfaction still all over her face.
Just … eww.
Once again feeling like an interloper, she made her way to the library before returning to her room. She’d finished her steamy novel last night and needed to gather a few more from the plethora of books that Dev owned. Kate had been adding her romances to the collection and the amount of books they had was simply mind-boggling. In her whole lifetime, she’d never be able to get through them all.
Walking into the room with wall-to-wall, floor to ceiling bookshelves, she was taken aback by Giselle sitting on the worn brown leather couch, with a book in her hand.
Huh? Giselle read?
Wow, snotty much, Sarah?
“Hi Giselle.” Kill her with kindness, right? That’s what her mother used to say.
Instead of replying, Giselle stood and started exiting the room, but not before pinning her with a glare that would make lesser women melt into a puddle of water at her feet. And sweet, innocent Dorothy with a cuddly Toto tucked gently into her picnic basket, Sarah was not. Sarah wondered if Giselle had even seen the Wizard of Oz and saw the resemblance between herself and the wicked witch of the west.
Just as Giselle was about to exit, Sarah called out to her again. She’d been giving this a tremendous amount of thought and she was certain Giselle was the perfect vampire to help her. She simply couldn’t ask anyone else. Not even Thane.
“I need your help.”
Giselle stopped but didn’t turn around, so she continued.
“I want to track my lineage.”
At that, the female vampire turned around with the scariest smirk on her face that she’d seen on anyone here to date. Holy shit, she was seriously intimidating. Maybe this was a bad idea after all.
“I’m not a fucking genealogist, little girl.”
Why … that bitch.
“My bad. I had heard you were the best investigator Dev had, but I must have heard wrong.” She spun on her heels and walked to the closest shelf, not even seeing the books staring her in the face. She was so furious; she could claw that bitch’s eyes out. If she wasn’t a vampire, she might even try.
At this moment, she admired Kate’s cool demeanor and Analise’s directness. All she’d apparently inherited was a hair-trigger temper, alien-shaped pinky toes and geographic tongue. Yes, that’s a real thing. Google it.
When Giselle left without another word, Sarah felt defeated. She’d actually thought of trying to find her birth mother long before she’d been kidnapped, but was far too busy with school to take the time.
Well, that wasn’t exactly the truth.
She’d simply been scared. Scared to track down the one person in the world that’s supposed to want you and love you unconditionally above all others, but who’d given her away instead. But now that she knew the truth—that her mother had been kidnapped—just like her—but didn’t escape with her life—unlike her—she wanted to know more about the maternal side of the family she came from. Because despite her faults and her quick temper, Sarah had goodness in her. And since her father was born from the depths of hell and didn’t have a shred of humanity, her goodness had to have come from her mother. And she wanted to learn more.
Her adopted parents were her parents as far as she was concerned. She loved them, she truly did, but a person who has grown up with their biological parents can’t possibly understand what an enigma an adopted child’s biological parents represent. There’s always that mystery, always the same questions rolling around in her head.
Did she look like her mother?
Did she sound like her mother?
Was her mother a hothead too?
What was her mother like as a child?
Did she have any living blood relatives?
Now, more than ever, she was determined to find out, with or without Giselle’s help. Especially after the dream last night where the woman she’d talked to claimed to know Romaric.
A woman who’d looked strikingly like herself.
Chapter 4
Rom
Recalling proper protocol, Rom had arrived in Romania yesterday afternoon. It was customary to announce your visit a minimum of twenty-four hours in advance or risk a stake through your heart by showing up even one minute earlier. While that wouldn’t kill him, it would be immensely painful, so he’d rather avoid the offending wood. Or whatever material they were using these days in his homeland for stakings.
Intentionally avoiding his father all these years, he was looking forward to this visit about as much as he was reliving his Moira’s death so many years ago. Which was to say, not very fucking much. But to get to her, he had to go through him.
He stood on the doorstep of the ridiculously clichéd and ostentatious castle, set high in the Alps of Romania and he waited for one of his father’s servants to open the heavy, thick oak French doors before him. He rolled his eyes at the hideous copper doorknockers of screaming humans in the throes of agony. He half expected Dracula to come riding around the corner in a horse-drawn carriage being chased by the horde of townspeople carrying torches and pitchforks.
The whole thing was utterly unoriginal, but his father was exceedingly melodramatic.
There was no need to knock, as they were expecting him and within a minute, he was ushered inside by one of many who unwillingly served his father.
“Right this way, sire.” He was led through several small rooms of the large structure, which had been refurbished inside since he’d been here last. Of course, that was over half a millennia earlier, so without maintenance the home would be in fairly poor shape by now.
They ended in the throne room. This time he had kept his eye rolling internal. Christ, his father hadn’t changed one bit in over six hundred years. Still so fucking formal. But if there were any other way to get the answers he sought, he’d have done it. This was truly a last resort, which was his biggest fear. His father would know this and intentionally withhold information.
As the servant scurried away, he walked toward his father, pretentiously sitting on his high throne, a naked whore upon his lap. His father’s hands freely roamed her body. Rom’s jaw clenched. His father’s blatant and callous disgrace of his mate and their bond was one of the many reas
ons he’d left and never returned.
He inclined his head in the required respect, but that was the very last emotion he held for the vampire before him.
“Makare,” he stated simply. He’d not once referred to him as father. He’d not earned it.
“Well, the famous and powerful son returns.” As expected, Makare mocked the meaning of Romaric’s name. It mattered not. Raina was the end goal here and he’d do well to remember that.
“To what do we all owe the honor of your return?”
“I want to see Raina.” Straight and to the point. The least amount of time he had to spend in the presence of his fucking sperm donor, the better. For both of them.
Makare belted out what he assumed was a laugh, but sounded more like a squeal as the horrid sound bounced off the stone walls and reverberated in his ears.
“Do you hear that, whore?” Makare said as he tweaked the nude female’s nipple so hard it brought tears to her eyes, but she moaned her fake pleasure anyway. “He doesn’t bother to show his face for centuries but when he does, he makes demands, not apologies.”
Romaric remained still, regarding Makare with feigned interest. He was the master of hiding emotion and to let any show in the presence of Makare would be a fatal mistake. As strong as Romaric was, his father was still stronger. After several moments, he turned and began to leave. This had been a mistake. He would never be allowed to talk to Raina, so he’d have to just go with his gut.
He was nearly in the hallway when Makare called after him.
“For a price.”
Of fucking course. Everything his father ‘gave’ had strings attached. He turned, but said nothing.
“Actually it’s a gift, really. This should be no hardship to you.”
His gut clenched. His father never gave of anything freely.
