Rhemy: Immortal Forsaken Series #4 (Paranormal Romance Novella)

by Verika Sloane

  In other words, don’t bother coming back here in the future. She gulped the knot in her throat.

  His cell phone went off and he answered it as if relieved. “Aleck. Are you here?” A few seconds passed. “Oh. Of course, it’s no problem. See you soon.” He set his phone on the table. “Aleck apologizes, but he’s running late. Said he should be here by eleven.”

  Nearly an hour away. “I can entertain myself downstairs if you’d rather—”

  “No. We’ll stay here.”

  Why? To continue fifty minutes of awkward conversation? She swallowed her words with champagne bubbles, then sought a new subject to discuss, her gaze resting on a painting. “Is that a Kahlo?”

  “A replicate. You know her work?”

  “I do,” she said, gazing at the famous first painting, a self-portrait. “Why this one?”

  “I adore the look on her face. Almost as if no matter what I do, she will never totally approve of me.”

  “A reflection of how you feel about yourself?” She slid her gaze to his, lifting a brow.

  A small smile formed on his mouth. “Perhaps.”

  “Someone replicated it? There must be only a few in the world who can do it.”

  “I know a very talented art dealer. To say she knows a lot of artists is an understatement. If you’re interested in owning an original duplicate, let me know.”

  “I couldn’t afford it.”

  “Everything is negotiable. Not every price has to be paid with money.” He sat back, resting his forearms on the arms of the chair. “Although, she’d be difficult to make a deal with right now. She and her pürist are laying low these days.”

  “Why?”

  “They have a lot going on with him working for a royal, among other things.” He brought the champagne glass to his lips. “That’s all I’ll say.”

  Just the word “royal” ignited a hot pang in her belly. “Her pürist works for one of them?” Unable to shield her contempt, she finished the vestiges of her drink and set it on the coffee table a little too hard. “Damn the royals.” She pushed up from the chair and turned her attention to his shelf of knickknacks.

  Why did you say that? He doesn’t need to know everything!

  “Taelour?”

  “Forget I said anything.”

  A miniature, vintage bronze Viking ship sat on the top shelf. Next to it was a pewter hummingbird. Its eyes were made of rubies and sparkled in the light, while Rhemy’s eyes burned a hole in her back. Following that was a silver-plated samovar with a lion head spigot, then a cast iron balance scale marked by The South African Scale Company. At the end, a flask with what looked like a bullet hole in it.

  “Curious oddities to have on display,” she murmured, glancing over her shoulder. “I bet every one of them has a story.”

  “We all have a story,” he said.

  He was baiting her, and she knew it. “Is it true what they say, Rhemy? About you being a…” She shut her mouth. Whoa. Was she just about to ask him that, when she didn’t want to talk about her own secrets?

  “An immortal forsaken?” he finished.

  She turned around, cheeks hot with shame. What a rude thing to ask. “Forget I even said it.”

  “That’s the second time you’ve asked me to forget what you’ve said. Aren’t you curious?”

  “Well, of course I am.”

  “I’ll tell you my side of the story. If you want to hear it.”

  She returned to the chair, surprised he would talk about it when he’d been so closed-off. “Of course I want to hear it.”

  He settled in his chair, effortlessly masculine and elegant, sighing. “Once upon a time,” he joked, spreading his hands out with a graceful move. “I co-owned a luxury hotel with my partner, Robert, a human. I had the capital. He had the connections. I’d always wanted to own a hotel. It seemed…” he shrugged. “Sexy.”

  A smile tugged at Taelour’s mouth.

  “I thrived on the obstacles, because Robbie avoided conflict like the plague, whereas I took them straight on. He worked days; I worked nights. We did very well for ten years.” He exhaled as though he’d been talking in one breath. “Wasn’t enough. In my opinion, one of the banes of being an immortal is inevitable boredom. For humans, life is fleeting. Their health is delicate. Most take less risks because their existence dangles from a fragile web. Robert played it safe and that complemented my hazardous nature. The best days, to me, were the ones I couldn’t predict. When it was hard, when the mafia came down on us, threatening us to share the profits. I relished the day-to-day drama.” The grimace Taelour gave made him chuckle. “Different times then. They didn’t scare me. I could always smell them coming a mile away, reeking of their mama’s garlic sauce.”

  She shook her head with a smile. “And then?”

  “While I was busy havin’ fun with mob guys and pretty girls, Robert was using the hotel as a hub to move and sell narcotics. The very serious kind. Turned out that was making the serious money, not the hotel. He wasn’t as boring and safe as I assumed.”

  “What did you do?”

  “To sum it up, I tried to stop him, so he tried to end me.”

  “Did he get close to ending you?”

  Rhemy paused, a corner of his mouth lifting. “He did.”

  Not very many men would find that humorous, but she guessed Rhemy was too much of a gentleman to harbor ill will toward a human forever, even someone who wanted him dead. “How did you, well, get out alive?”

  “I had very good friends talk him out of it. Nevertheless, even though I surrendered my half of the hotel, he still thought I’d rat him out to the authorities. He didn’t want to take any chances. So instead of killin’ me, he started rumors that I had a duplicitous nature, and painted me a villain. Anytime something bad happened to someone good, it was because Rhemy Carrington made it so. He paid the right people to make the rumors seem authentic.”

  “Just because you didn’t want to tie yourself to the sale of illegal drugs? He ruined you? Don’t you crave—?”

  “Revenge?” he interrupted. At her nod, he shook his head. “I’m over two-hundred years young. I’ve done the payback game; I’ve been a player and a pawn. Gotta count your blessings, cher. I was fit to be tied, sure, but I’m alive. My bank account—indeed, my world—is smaller, but it suits me just right. It took me years to build what I have now, but a vampire is nothing but long on time. There are others who will never trust me again because of Robert’s poisonous tongue, but, c’est la vie. He, on the other hand, is very much dead now. They found his body in a swamp a few years ago.”

  She drew in a breath. “Wow.”

  Why did she want to tell him so badly about her reason for needing to go to the Centurias? She barely knew him, and clearly he would advise her not to go through with it. Despite predicting that, the urge to unburden her plan was heavy and willful, pushing forward. “Thank you for sharing that. I know it wasn’t easy.”

  “Telling the truth isn’t hard for me.”

  She hesitated. “Rhemy, I want to share something with you, but you have to promise you won’t tell anyone.” Once she told him, it was a point of no return. He could easily spoil everything in the blink of an eye, and perhaps, in a way, she hoped he could talk her out of it. “I want to tell you the story behind my motive to go to the Centurias. I think you should know.”

  Know, well, most of it.

  He gazed at her. “You have my full attention.”

  She took a deep breath, praying she wasn’t making a huge mistake in trusting him. “All four of my brothers have their own unique personality, and it amazes me to this day that they get along when they can be so different. Reed, the oldest, was the poet of the family. Creative, kind-hearted, gentle. A very talented artist.”

  The emotion had already begun to swell her throat like an old ghost gripping her larynx for bringing up the pain of the past. Her voice hoarse, she forced the words out. “It happened about eleven years ago. We shared a house a couple of hour
s outside of Los Angeles, all of us working various jobs. Reed made portraits for the rich, and did the most beautiful body painting on models for the elite underworld parties. I’m sure that’s how he met Clare. She was a royal. I have no idea how long he’d been seeing her before I found out. The only reason I knew about it was because I accidentally found one of his letters to her. Texts and emails were too risky, I think. None of our brothers knew. I hated that. But I told no one. I swore to him I wouldn’t. He loved her a great deal,” she added quietly.

  “But royals only avow to other royals…” Rhemy mused, refilling her champagne glass, making her realize she’d paused too long.

  She inwardly flinched. There was more to it than that, but she was afraid to tell him all the details. “Right. I felt sorry for them. I worried constantly about how it would end, because I knew it had to, and it wouldn’t be a happily-ever-after. Reed was intensely in love, and I could tell he was having a hard time keeping it separate. This went on for months.”

  “And then?”

  “And then, one night, the four of us were home when we got a call. Reed was found in a park, unconscious. Severely beaten.” Though the emotions were building, it was starting to feel good to get this out in the open, even though her voice shook. “He was in critical condition, his skull cracked and not healing, his brain swollen, but we couldn’t take him to a regular hospital, obviously. My brothers assumed it’d been a bar fight, but I had my suspicions that it had to do with Clare. When she never reached out to him, never called his cell, I was worried something had happened to her, too.”

  Rhemy looked away. “Oh, no.”

  The piercing pain of continuing wouldn’t allow her to sit. She shot out of the chair, turning her back to Rhemy, staring at his fancy wallpaper. “I made it my mission to find her. Because of his job, Reed had kept a calendar of upcoming royal parties. I thought that was my best and only chance to track her down. So I went to one, and managed to sneak in. All I had was her first name and a portrait he’d drawn of her. The second I walked in, I was nearly sure the girl in the corner in the white dress was Clare. She was everything Reed had described. Pretty, soft-spoken, refined. But I wasn’t sure.”

  She remembered it so vividly, she could practically smell the perfume floating through the air of those insipid royals. “I still doubted I had the right woman. So I asked another royal, ‘Is that Clare?’ And the girl confirmed it was, and said to me, ‘Isn’t it amazing Clare came after all she’s been through?’ When she saw I had no clue what she was referring to, she told me everything. That Clare had been attacked and raped by a guy named Reed, and had barely escaped with her life. That he’d been obsessed with her for a long time, stalking her, and tried to kidnap her, too. I was in shock, listening to this garbage.” Feeling stronger now that anger had taken sorrow’s place, she turned around, facing a sympathetic Rhemy. “I pulled Clare aside, and introduced myself with a fake name. I didn’t want to reveal who I really was, in case she freaked out and alerted security.”

  Taelour sat back down, fearing she might start throwing his valuables if she didn’t. “And yet she took one look at me and knew who I was. She pulled me to a room so we could talk in private. We both started crying when she asked about Reed. It was her father. He had started to suspect she was hiding something from him, and had her followed. She and Reed were together the night he confronted them. The men he sent were supposed to kill Reed. She thought he was dead.” She squeezed her burning eyes shut. In a way, Clare had thought right.

  “Monster,” Rhemy muttered.

  A monster you might agree with if you knew the whole truth. “She wanted to be with Reed. She wanted out of her father’s house. I told her she could come with me, that we’d protect her. I knew my brothers wouldn’t hesitate once I told them. Family is everything to us.”

  “You’re very lucky you have each other.”

  “Yes, I know.” She sighed. “Clare ran away from home. A week later, she was at our door. She didn’t tell her father Reed was still alive, knowing he’d come after the both of them if he knew. By then, I’d told my brothers about what really happened and why. They were in shock, but they weren’t angry, and they welcomed Clare.”

  Rhemy seemed to hesitate before he asked, “And Reed? He survived?”

  Eyes filling, she nodded, gulped the rest of her champagne, and set it down. “Yes. He’s strong. So strong. But he does have a scar from his nose to his jaw. That one never healed. Clare was at his side every second. Over those few weeks, I’d come to care about her like a sister. Because of her, we were able to get an underworld physician to treat Reed’s head injury. We wouldn’t have been able to afford him otherwise.”

  “What did he say when he finally woke up?”

  The worst part. Eyes burning with tears, she blurted, “He couldn’t say, Rhemy! He had no recollection of the night he was beaten. No memory of his adult life. Only bits and pieces of his childhood. That was how he was able to remember who we were, but his adult memories, including any of Clare, were gone.”

  Rhemy’s mouth parted. “By the gods...”

  “Clare was beyond devastated. Even as he was finally at full health, he looked at her like she was a total stranger. There was nothing we could do. She tried to get him to remember, we all did, but it was no use.” She sniffed. “After a while, she was afraid to go home, yet she didn’t feel as though she could stay with us anymore. She wouldn’t feed, wouldn’t leave her room.”

  She paused for a long while, coming to the most tragic part of the entire tale. “It was a Thursday. Very early in the morning. She’d been gone all night. I found a note in her room telling us she couldn’t stay, that it was putting us in danger. Two of my brothers were home; they went looking for her. They found her up in the hills, but she wouldn’t leave, even though sunrise was close. They came to get me.” Her lips started to quiver. “She’d given up. I begged her to come home, find shelter. The sun was rising. The last thing I saw was Clare’s body falling to bones before my brother threw a blanket over me and forced me in the truck.”

  Rhemy was at a loss of words. Several times, he tried to speak, but didn’t. “I’m so very sorry.”

  Gods, so was she. “That’s not the end of it,” she said, her voice devoid of emotion.

  His dark brows shot down. “You’re kidding. There’s more?”

  “Not only is Clare dead and Reed without a memory, nearly killed for loving her, but he’s a different person now. His personality changed completely. Where he used to be imaginative and compassionate, he’s reckless and moody. What once was a kind-hearted, sweet man has become an emotionless, indifferent, reticent man.” She looked down, a fat tear falling on her dress. “He isn’t cruel. Especially not to me,” she quickly added, so Rhemy wouldn’t ask. “He’s loyal, and more of a leader than any of them, but he’s not the same. We hoped it would be temporary, but, years later, nothing’s changed. He doesn’t even dress the same, threw out most of his old clothes, got rid of his art supplies…”

  She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to hold back the sobs. “It’s like he died, too. The old Reed we all knew. Eventually, my brothers accepted it and moved on, but I can’t. Clare’s father destroyed two beautiful souls, a beautiful love that should’ve been given the chance to thrive. He needs to pay for what he’s done.”

  “So you’re on this quest of revenge by yourself?”

  “Yes.”

  He set down his champagne glass and went to the sofa, closer to her. “Listen to me. What happened to Clare and your brother is vile, and you have every right to feel what you feel. But seeking revenge on their behalf is only going to get you hurt. I know they would agree. And,” he said when started to interrupt, “You won’t feel better, Taelour. Whatever you have planned, even if it’s successful, I promise your soul will leave unsatisfied. Your brother is who he is now. Clare is gone. Revenge on her father won’t change these things.”

  Maybe so, but every time she thought about walking away and leavi
ng it be, the fury would renew. Taelour stood, unable to stand the pity in his mesmerizing eyes. “I know that, but I have to do this.”

  He stood up, and turned her around to face him. “No, you don’t.”

  She sighed, wiping the tears. He didn’t get it, but she knew he wouldn’t. “Swear you won’t tell anyone. Because if you do, if you betray my trust, I’ll never forgive you—”

  He silenced her with a kiss. When he broke away, she gave a weak sound, giving her a peace she yearned for.

  A brisk knock had them jerking away from each other as though a bomb had exploded in the room.

  She looked at him, and he looked at her.

  “Rhemy?” said the voice on the other side of the door. “It’s Aleck.”

  Like a switch, Rhemy’s expression changed, as though the moment before had been nothing but temporary insanity. “Just a second,” he replied, heading to the door.

  Gods. She’d forgotten about Aleck.

  Rhemy’s hand was on the knob and he turned to look at her.

  For a second, she thought there was regret in his eyes. Regret for what? For asking Aleck to come here, or for kissing her? She didn’t know, and there was no time to evaluate it.

  She dabbed a tissue to her eyes, gave a single nod that she was ready, even though things were happening so fast, she was sure she would screw up.

  Rhemy swept open the door, a grin ready for his friend. “Aleck, come on in.”

  In walked a tall, sharply dressed vampire that immediately struck Taelour with his good looks. Perhaps his personality would be the turn-off, though again, she didn’t see Rhemy associating with someone who was openly repulsive.

  When Aleck saw her and smiled, she smiled in return, as his was too infectious not to. Yet, there was something a bit forced about it. He gently grasped her hand and covered it with his other. “You must be Taelour.”

  “Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Trevyn.”

  “Call me Aleck.”

  Rhemy closed the door. “What may I get you to drink?”

  “The champagne you have open is fine,” he responded.