Romantic Fantasy

Page 1

by Nicole Grane

Immortal wounds

Second Edition

A Novel by

Nicole Grane

Immortal Wounds

Second Edition

A Novel by:

Nicole Grane

Copyright 2011 Nicole Grane

Cover art Copyright 2011 Chris Grane

Clip art design Ashley Grane

Redwood House Books

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without permission by the author.

This is a work of fiction. The characters, names, incidents, and dialogue are products of the author's imagination, and are not to be construed as real.

Learn more about the author at:

http://www.nicolegrane.com

DEDICATION

To my beautiful Phoebe, who lay across my lap sleeping while I created this story. To Ashley and Joey for letting mommy work, more hours than she could count. To my husband Chris for his unwavering support and understanding when I came to bed at three in the morning. And to my parents for their love and constant pushing to get it done! I love you all!

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

First, I would like to thank my talented husband, Chris, for his endless hours in creating the cover for this book. He’s captured my vision of Marcus’s castle with this unique watercolor—which was not easy because I tend to be picky, so I’m told.

My sister: Nicia Rotermund, for her vast expertise in Photo Shop, as well as being my personal IT Tech. She has the patience of a saint!

My Lucky Eight: Ashley Grane, Gina Rotermund, Eleanor Rodriguez, Laura Bastain, Caren Coonrod, Kim Talty, Rachel Perry, and Becki Schirmacher. Undoubtedly the best friends in the world. Who else on the planet would have suffered through all those typos and countless revisions, and still raved about the story? I love you all and would not think of publishing a book before you have had the chance to test drive it first!

My friend: Cheri Chesley, for always being there to answer my many formatting and writing questions. I can't imagine our writing group without you.

Maren Petersen: Editor Extraordinaire! This book would have never been completed without you. I will never be able to express how much you have helped me. I plan to put you in my pocket and keep you forever!

Table of Contents

Prologue

Chapter 1: Just a day at the beach

Chapter 2: The Stranger

Chapter 3: My Hero

Chapter 4: Wild Animals

Chapter 5: Breaking Down

Chapter 6: Confession Time

Chapter 7: Sweet Dreams

Chapter 8: New Opportunities

Chapter 9: Vampires and Werewolves

Chapter 10: Flying

Chapter 11: Painful Memories

Chapter 12: A Bad Idea

Chapter 13: Danger

Chapter 14: Home Sweet Home

Chapter 15: New Plan

Chapter 16: Demands

Chapter 17: Richard

Chapter 18: Roses and Thorns

Chapter 19: Ashworth Castle

Chapter 20: Promises

Chapter 21: A Close Call

Chapter 22: A Misunderstanding

Chapter 23: Surprise!

Chapter 24: Raymose

Chapter 25: Reckless Behavior

Chapter 26: Sword Play

Chapter 27: Questions

Chapter 28: Welcome Home

Chapter 29: A Narrow Escape

Chapter 30: Honesty

Chapter 31: Damen’s Offer

Chapter 32: Sacrifices

Time Line & Characters Information

A Glimpse into Book 2

BIOGRAPHY

Prologue

A war had been raging for a thousand years, a war that I was unaware of. Unaware that is until I’d literally stepped into the middle of it.

I don’t remember much about the events that took place that night in London that were to change the rest of my life forever. But I can say now, with great certainty, daylight doesn’t always mean safety . . .

I could feel the cold, rough cement against my face. I forced my eyes to open, blinking repeatedly. I was on the ground . . . had I fallen? My head felt as though it were spinning. I let my eyes fall shut again while my mind tried to process what had happened.

“Phoebe . . .” A cool hand brushed against my cheek, lingering for a moment—it wasn’t mine. My heart raced at the touch of it, at the sound of that voice. My nose took in a delicious scent that I couldn’t quite place. I strained to open my eyes once more. I could barely make out a face. His dark eyes penetrated mine. He was only there for a moment, and then . . . gone.

I jumped, wincing at the pain of it. My fingers sought my shoulder while my eyes wandered, searching . . .

“Who’s there?” My words echoed out into the night.

I reached back, my fingertips meeting something moist. My shoulder throbbed at the very touch. Beads of sweat began to form all over my body. I breathed heavily, waiting for someone to answer, praying that they didn’t. The sound of the cars passing by, voices in the distance, and the soft trickle of water running down a drainpipe were all that greeted me. The noises seemed amplified. My vision blurred, and then became strangely clear.

I brought a shaky hand to my face. “Oh God,” the words were barely a whisper. I was bleeding.

I spun around, expecting something or someone to be there lurking behind me. I was in the alley way behind the motel near the trash bins. I had been on my way to the car when—Kim and Leah! I looked around for them. They must still be back at the room waiting for me or maybe looking for me by now, I thought. I wasn’t sure how much time had passed.

I stood up slowly, my head pounding with each movement I made. I reached for my keys that were on the ground a few feet away. My fingers had barely touched them when I heard a deep menacing growl from behind.

I snatched them up quickly, and watched over my shoulder as I retreated back to my room. Something was watching me—I could feel it.

The TV was on, but there was no sign of the girls. I peeked out the bedroom window, careful to stay hidden behind the curtain. Dim lighting and a deserted parking lot were all that greeted me. I let out a breath of air, thankful that Kim and Leah hadn’t been there to witness my hysterical episode. I suddenly felt foolish. I’d obviously seen one too many scary movies!

I touched the back of my head softly. “Ouch.” A large bump had already formed. “Lovely.” I tossed my keys onto the counter beside the sink, then grabbed a washcloth from the shelf and ran it under the cold tap to wet it. I dug around in my bag searching for the Tylenol. I took two and slunk to the bed when the door to my room flung open.

“Phoebe! Where have you been?” Kim thundered at me as she bounded across the room, not bothering to notice my hand clutched to my heart or the cloth that was draped across my forehead.

“Phoebe, what happened?” Leah was more observant.

Kim Sanders and Leah Williams were my dearest friends. I’d known them my whole life. We took this ‘girls only trip’ to England after planning and saving all this last year. What a great way to end it, I thought.

“I must have slipped or something,” I finally answered. I told them what I remembered, leaving out the part of my delusional mind seeing things—no doubt do to serious head trauma!

“Your shoulder’s bleeding!” Kim grabbed my shirtsleeve and yanked it back.

“Hey,
watch it,” I snapped. I turned my body away from her, trying to prevent further injury to my arm.

“Phoebe, that’s a bad gash, and there’s another one here too,” Leah said as she moved closer to examine my arm. “Maybe we should take you to the hospital? I think you need stitches . . . or a shot.”

“No way!” I sat straight up. I hated needles. “I’ll take care of it myself.”

“That’s not such a good idea,” Leah argued. “That could have been a dog out there growling at you. Dog bites can be serious.”

“I’ll be fine,” I waved her off. “I’ll just take a quick shower and clean up. I’m sure it looks worse than it really is.” I pulled myself up and walked to the bathroom, my head feeling heavier by the moment.

I could hear Kim and Leah arguing through the closed door. Kim was already offering several possible suggestions as to what might have happened to me, each one as crazy as the next. “Maybe a wild animal escaped from the zoo and attacked her? Or maybe a crazed psycho from a mental institution is running around slashing people?” I could hear the fear in her voice as she pondered over the possibilities.

I turned the water on muffling out the rest of the conversation. I removed my shirt, tossed it into the waste basket, and examined the gashes behind my shoulder in the mirror. There were two large punctures, like a knife had cut into me—twice. A deep growling reverberated in my mind. I spun around, sweat once again, forming on my forehead.

“There’s nothing here.” I breathed, trying to calm myself. “You’re fine, Phoebe.”

I climbed into the warm water. My thoughts instantly returning to the alley way . . . to the stranger I saw for only a moment. Those eyes . . . I’d seen them before. They were darker than any night. His voice . . .

I’m not sure how long I stood there, motionless, in a dream-like trance while the water ran down my body. I was just barely conscious of the thick steam that now hung heavy in the room. The water started to cool bringing me back to consciousness. I began to adjust the knobs, hoping to get a few more minutes of hot water when a dreadful thought washed over me. Had he been my attacker? Why else would he have left me there, bleeding? Suddenly, Kim’s “crazy ideas” didn’t seem so crazy after all.

I quickly turned off the water and stepped out of the shower. I wrapped a towel around me and rushed to the phone. I could see Kim and Leah watching me anxiously as I fumbled through some papers on the bedside table.

“Um, Phoebe?” Kim started slowly.

“Yes, I would like to change our departure date for tomorrow morning.” I spoke urgently to the ticket agent. My ears listened to the loud clicking of her fingernails on her keyboard as she looked for available flights.

“Phoebe?” Leah was standing next to me, arms crossed and looking extremely worried. I ignored her.

“Yes, the 6:30 flight will be fine. Yes, all three of us. Thank you.” I hung up the phone and turned to the confused faces beside me. “Pack!”

“Why?” Kim argued, “We still have two days left!”

I looked at her in disbelief. “I was just attacked! Someone or something is out there.” I pointed to the door.

“I thought you said you didn’t know what happened to you,” they both asked in unison.

“Yeah well, I don’t. But I know we’re not safe here. Whatever it was is still out there. He could be right outside that door this very minute . . . waiting!”

“He?” Leah questioned. I could see the fear in her eyes.

They looked at each other briefly, glanced at the door, then began shoving things into their bags, not even bothering to fold their clothes—they’d both seen one too many horror movies not to heed the warning.

I returned to the bathroom to get dressed. The room was still thick with steam. I wiped my hand across the mirror and leaned in closer. A pair of dark eyes reflected back at me from over my shoulder.

I gasped as I spun around, my heart pounding hard from within. There was no one there.

My eyes darted around the little room, settling on an open window—a window that I had not opened. I swallowed loudly. A shiver ran down my spine that had nothing to do with the crisp air that pushed its way into the room. I moved toward the window cautiously, reached out a trembling hand, and slammed it shut. I backed away, never releasing it from my gaze. A new kind of dread took hold of me. He’d been here . . .

Chapter 1: Just a day at the beach

I dreamt all that night and every night for the next month about my mysterious stranger. I couldn’t get his face out of my mind, or rather his dark and intense eyes. We were back home now and although I saw Kim and Leah all the time, I still never told them about him.

I lived in the coastal town of Trinidad California, a small community that survived on tourism and commercial fishing to support its residents: a whopping 311.

It was mid-July now, perfect beach weather. Kim and Leah had convinced me to go surfing with them. Apparently, I haven’t been the same since our trip abroad. I didn’t really feel like going; it had been forever since I’d been out on the water. Still, I didn't want to let them down.

I put on my swimsuit and turned to look at myself in the mirror. The deep gashes that once were on the back of my shoulder had healed over leaving tender pink scars as a reminder of my horrific trip abroad. I fluffed my hair, wishing it were longer so that it could hide them better.

I continued to look myself over. My face was fairly thin . . . actually, everything about me was thin. I was 5’5, and weighed 100 pounds. I looked pretty . . . not as tone as I’d like. But still, not bad for 23.

I pulled my shorts over my swimsuit, grabbed my bag, and stuffed it with the necessary items: extra change of clothes, towel, munchies, and Band- aids—lots of Band-aids. Past experience has taught me that any outing involving Kim usually meant I would need some patching up later.

I could hear the loud whining of Kim’s car coming up the road. Leah was in the back seat yelling at Kim, who was singing: “Greased Lightning” . . . again. The music was blaring. I couldn’t help but smile at the image.

About a minute later, I heard the car tires come to a halt outside my house. The horn beeped a few times. I could still hear Kim singing—although it was louder now.

I stopped where I was. How had I been able to hear her from so far away? I thought in disbelief. Even if the music was blaring . . . how could I have known Leah was in the back seat? She was still shouting for Kim to shut-up!

“Impossible!” I muttered in disbelief. I stepped out my door where a red Hyundai Scoop was waiting for me. Its contents: our wetsuits, two nuts, and three surfboards.

Kim was waving from the driver’s seat with a huge smile on her face. Her thick brown hair hung loosely around her tanned shoulders.

Leah was in the back seat, a mild look of irritation greeted me. Her sleek nut-brown hair was smoothed down around her pail freckled face. She was trapped between three surfboards positioned in all different directions, their ends hanging out every window.

I closed my eyes and shook my head, trying to focus on the obvious question: “Kim. How am I supposed to fit in there?”

“There’s plenty of room. Hurry, we’re gonna miss the sun!” she called impatiently.

I frowned looking at Leah. She rolled her eyes as we shared the same understanding look.

Clambering in, I had to duck under a surfboard. Thank goodness I wasn’t very big; a normal sized person wouldn’t have fit.

We arrived at Moonstone Beach a few minutes later, with the sun shining brightly overhead.

Kim looked to be in an excellent mood having sung nearly every song off her Grease CD.

Leah however, was trying to straighten out her spine after being pinned for so long. “Probably permanent damage,” she muttered as she slunk out of the car. “Kim, you really need to get some new music,” she snapped. “And we’re not listening to that on the way home!”

I normally loved watching Kim and Leah argue. It was usually about something in signif
icant, and it never lasted long. But something felt different. I began surveying the beach. I could hear voices far off in the distance, dogs barking, and the loud roaring of the ocean seemed magnified. There were a few people with surfboards; it looked like they were heading out as well.

Then, my eye’s flickered to the rocks out a ways in the water. There was someone standing on them! I was sure of it. I hadn’t seen anyone up there before, ever. I narrowed my eyes, straining them to see better.

“Here Phoebs, the water’s going to be cold today.” Kim smiled as she handed me my wet suit.

“Do you see someone standing on top of that rock out there?” I asked her as I pointed to the large rock in the distance.

Kim strained her eyes. “Noooo, wait! No . . . must be a bird or something,” she declared a moment later. “Who could see that far anyway?” She walked back over to Leah who was putting on her own suit.

“Bird?” I mumbled under my breath as I continued to stare at the rock. It wasn’t a bird.

“Phoebe, hurry!”

I nodded to Kim and began dressing; all the while keeping my eyes seaward. “Ready,” I announced several minutes later. The sound of the Beach Boys “Good Vibrations” booming from a nearby truck, diverted my attention.

The three of us looked over to see a few guys we knew: Jeff Roberts, Brian Hawk, and Sean Hansen.

“Great,” I remarked sarcastically. Brian Hawk, Hawk being the operative word, was a constant nightmare; waiting like a snake for some poor mouse to happen by so he could strike. I unfortunately was the object of his attention as of late.

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