Immortal Wounds: Book #1 in the Immortal Wounds Vampire Series-Paranormal Romance/Vampire Romance/Romantic Fantasy

by Nicole Grane

  Marcus looked as though he were coming completely unstuck. He reached out to hold me but I put my hands out, not wanting to be touched; I cringed away from him.

  “If these are Damen’s memories . . . I wouldn’t have this perspective,” I argued. “If these were Phoebe’s . . . they couldn’t be in my head.”

  Marcus's face looked pained. By the look in his eyes, I could tell there was so much he wanted to say, but he remained silent. Perhaps he couldn’t find the words? It didn’t matter right then. My words would be the ones to change everything:

  “They’re mine,” I gasped. A single tear ran down my face. I felt it slide down my cheek and linger for a moment before it fell; and with it, part of my sanity slipped away too. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. Marcus wrapped his arms around me, pulling me into the safety of his love. “They’re my memories.” I cried.

  “Darling I’m sorry. It was selfish of me to make you relive that,” he said in shame.

  I let him rock me slowly, the rhythm calming me slightly. I forced a smile as I looked up at him. “I must seem an emotional wreck to you?”

  “No.” His eyes were so gentle as they looked upon me. “Why did you not tell me?” I could hear the pain in his voice. He pulled me back to him. This was a burden he’d have gladly carried for me . . . for her . . .

  I smiled to myself. Even Marcus had accepted that she and I were one in the same; but how could that be?

  “Raymose told me later that my father was furious with Damen for returning without me,” I explained. “Raymose was the one sent to find me. He brought me back to my father.”

  “Did you ever tell your father what had happened; what Damen had done to you?”

  I shook my head. “He suspected, although he never knew the full truth. I could never tell him. It was . . . shameful.” I tried to rub away the headache that was pounding across my forehead.

  “Luther ordered Damen’s death immediately after my return, yet Damen had already fled,” I added.

  Marcus nodded his head in understanding. I guessed that he knew this part of the story. He didn’t ask any more questions. “No wonder Raymose was so protective of you.” Marcus spoke as if I’d just uncovered a small mystery that had been haunting him.

  “Marcus. I can’t fight him,” I admitted without thinking. “He’s too strong.” I could hear the panic in my voice as I watched the attack once again in my mind.

  “You won’t have to,” he promised as he rocked me gently in his arms. “You won’t have to.”

  “I remember my father’s face.”

  Marcus stopped rocking me. He swallowed loudly then pulled back to look at me. “Phoebe, you have to give me time to figure this out. I can’t just show up at Luther’s house with you, like this. Please understand.”

  “I do. It’s just . . . I look like her. I have her memories.” I said in frustration. “I know I’m not her. I can’t be her.” It was a lie, and I knew it.

  “You are my Phoebe! The same Phoebe I loved more than life itself! You will remember.” I could see the certainty in his eyes. “I don’t know how but you’ve come back to me.”

  I tried to look away but his eyes held mine.

  “I will find a way. I swear it. I won’t live without you again!” His lips collided with mine. I could feel the desire in them to kiss me harder. He wanted me, but held back. My heart pounded wildly as my pulse raced. I wrapped my arms around his neck while his hands moved up and down my back fluidly, pausing at my waist. He surprised me by lifting me up off my feet and spinning me around. I laughed—carefree like a child.

  Marcus was smiling too; he truly looked happy.

  “Stay with me tonight, please?” I held his hands close to my heart so he could feel its erratic beat.

  He sighed. I could feel the instant tension in his body as he felt the blood pumping through my heart. “Phoebe . . .” He was trying to maintain control; he was trying to be rational.

  I reached out and held his cheek. His eyes closed as he leaned into my touch.

  “Marcus.” My voice was soft and low. “I just want you to hold me . . .”

  He opened his crimson eyes reluctantly. I took a brave breath and stepped closer. He couldn’t help but smile. “You had me at hold you.” He brushed my lips gently with a kiss. “I never could deny you anything.”

  I smiled victoriously. “I’ll remember that.”

  “But don’t trust me completely, Phoebe. You’re not entirely safe with me. I don’t trust myself.”

  I dismissed his warning, waving him off. How could I be in any danger with Marcus?

  Chapter 12: A Bad Idea

  “I’ll be right back.”

  “Wait! Where are you going?” I grabbed onto his arm as he turned for the door.

  “To scout out the area,” he spoke as if this was obvious.

  “But it’s dark out there!”

  “I think you’d be hard pressed to find anything more dangerous than me outside,” he half-laughed as he reached for the doorknob.

  “But what if Damen’s—”

  “I’ll be right back,” he interrupted, not paying any attention to my fears as he ducked out the door.

  I decided to busy myself and get ready for bed. I brushed my teeth, put on my pajamas, and crawled into the soft covers.

  I kept checking the clock. Marcus had only been gone ten minutes, but it felt like hours had passed by. I skimmed through an old copy of People Magazine when Marcus appeared in my doorway.

  “Geez!” I jumped. “Do you have to sneak up on me like that?” I held my hand over my heart, trying to slow it.

  He frowned. “You left the front door unlocked?”

  “Who’d be stupid enough to break in with a vampire outside my house?” I asked.

  “You’re too trusting,” he mumbled under his breath.

  I held the covers open and patted his side of the bed. “You aren’t going to wear your clothes to sleep in, are you?”

  He looked at me apprehensively.

  “Oh come on, don’t you trust me?” I made my question sound as though I were deeply insulted.

  “I suppose I could remove my shirt . . .”

  “And your shoes, I hope?” I tried to suppress a smile. The look on Marcus's face told me I was pressing my luck.

  “And my shoes,” he gave me a dry look.

  “Try not to act to put out,” I taunted him playfully.

  He climbed into bed and pulled the covers over him. I watched his eyes wander the room as he pulled the blankets up tightly to his chin.

  I studied him curiously. “You act like you’ve never slept in a bed before.”

  “Not for a few hundred years anyway,” he admitted, still looking around the room. “And then, it wasn’t by choice.”

  “Oh my God, don’t tell me you sleep in a coffin.” The very idea was enough to send me into near hysterics. I hated confined spaces. There was no way I could imagine myself snuggling with Marcus in a coffin.

  He gave me an exasperated look. “No Phoebe. I don’t sleep in a coffin.

  I sighed in relief. “Then . . . how do you sleep?”

  “I don’t. Not the way you do anyway.” He fidgeted a little under the sheets.

  “Care to elaborate?” I asked as I got out of the bed and walked over to the light switch to turn it off.

  Marcus didn’t answer.

  I turned around to ask him again when I noticed a vacant expression on his face.

  “You’re wearing that . . . to sleep in?” His voice sounded hoarse.

  I looked at my pajamas—a red silk nightdress—and then back to Marcus. “Yeah, they’re pajamas. You know; clothes you wear to sleep in.” True, it was a little dressier than my flannels but not entirely uncommon for me on a summers night. I turned out the light and ran to the bed with a jump.

  Marcus leapt up as well when I hit the bed. “What is it?” He was looking around the room frantically—his arm out stretched in front of me protectively.

  I l
aughed so hard I cried.

  “What?” he sounded annoyed now.

  “I always jump into bed,” I said between laughs, “just in case something is under it waiting to grab my feet.” I laughed harder now. “I never expected I’d jump into bed with a vampire!”

  Marcus couldn’t help but laugh too. It was pretty funny, considering the nothing under my bed couldn’t kill me.

  “What time do you want to leave in the morning?” his laughter subsiding a little.

  “Oh,” I chuckled lightly. “We just need to leave by noon. It takes about four hours to get to Portland. Why?” I wiped the tears from my eyes.

  “I need to eat.”

  “Oh! Um, I . . .” I was pulling the covers up around me as subtlety as I could, all humor, gone.

  “I’m not talking about you!” He laughed heartily as he touched my arm—I jumped. “I could have taken you hundreds of times by now if I wanted,” he mused.

  I didn’t find it as amusing. The thought of Marcus truly being a vampire was still scary. I knew we’d been kissing . . . a lot. But still, part of me liked pretending he was just . . . Marcus. It made dealing with my own werewolf quirk more bearable.

  “I’ll leave town early, before we go,” he continued. “I’ll just be a few hours.”

  “You’re leaving me alone?” I shrieked. “You can’t! What if Damen comes back?” I couldn’t believe how needy I sounded.

  “Phoebe, you’ll be fine. I’ll scout the area again. If there’s any scent of him, I’ll take care of it.” His tone left little room for doubt.

  “Right, I’ll be fine,” I repeated thoughtfully. I tried to come up with the words to make him stay, to make him realize that I wouldn’t be fine. That I wouldn’t be fine ever again without him, but I also didn’t want him to suffer because of me—ever.

  I growled mentally. “I don’t want you to go hungry because I’m being a wimp,” I admitted reluctantly. I could hear the shame in my voice.

  “Hardly,” he put his arm around me and pulled me to him. I rested my head contentedly on his chest, taking in the sweet smell of his skin. “I don’t blame you for being scared.” He gave me a gentle squeeze. “Damen can be quite ruthless.” He ran his fingers down my bare arm, making me shiver. “You’re just . . . needier than you used to be. Not that I mind,” he interjected quickly, “it’s just going to take some getting used to.”

  “Great, ‘needier’ sounds real attractive,” I grumped. “I’d much rather be stronger, tougher. More like the other Phoebe.”

  “It’s very attractive.” He kissed the top of my head. “I’d much rather look after you than have you pushing the limits, taking on the whole werewolf population single handed again.”

  I craned my neck and looked up into his glorious face. He smiled. His cool breath blew across me. I breathed in, feeling a little disoriented. This effect probably made it easier for him to distract his prey—the dangers of being with a vampire I’d deduced.

  Considering how I’d reacted when Marcus mentioned he was hungry a few minutes ago, I couldn’t believe what I was about to suggest; although, it was easier to deal with than the alternative—him leaving me to the wolves!

  “You don’t need a lot of blood, do you?” My voice cracked on every word.

  Marcus froze. His fingers stopped mid way up my arm. He’d still been caressing it. “You’re not . . . suggesting . . . what I think you’re suggesting?”

  I swallowed loudly. I sunk my head back into his chest, shielding my eyes from his. “Maybe? I mean, if you need a . . . a little?” I could feel my hands start to sweat. “So you don’t have to leave,” I quickly explained.

  Marcus had pulled his arm out from under me and was now looking me squarely in the face. “You want me to take . . .” he swallowed, “. . . your blood?”

  I cringed at the thought. “Will it hurt?”

  Marcus's mouth popped open. “Will it hurt?” he asked incredulously. “You’re not going to find out!” He threw the covers off him and rose from the bed.

  “Marcus!” I jumped up, throwing my arms around his neck and pulled him back down. He sat with his back to me.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you. I don’t know what I was thinking,” I stammered. “I just . . . I just don’t want you to suffer because of me. If you have to leave, go. I’ll be fine. I’m sure Damen isn’t going to waste his time on me.” I had to convince myself of this, or I’d go crazy every time Marcus left me alone.

  Marcus turned slowly, his face was tight with tension, yet his eyes smoldered with desire. “Never . . . offer yourself to me again,” he warned. “Never!”

  I nodded. The warning had been sharp and absolute. Yet . . . he still wore a look of desire on his face, like perhaps my suggestion wasn’t so offensive after all.

  “Will you still stay with me?” I whispered, after a few moments. I could feel the tears welling up in my eyes.

  “It’s not a good idea, us being this close, like this.” His mouth said one thing, yet his eyes said another. “I should go.”

  “No!” I leapt at him so quickly I landed right on top of him, the both of us colliding to the floor in a loud thump. A defensive hiss came from his throat. My chest was beating loudly against his. I had taken him completely by surprise—he wasn’t the only one.

  “Sorry,” I cried out. I’d never moved that fast before. My whole body trembled against his. “Werewolf thing?” I squeaked. I flinched as his hand moved across my back, rubbing the soft silk I wore.

  “That’s dangerous.” His body was as tense as mine. His eyes were on my lips. He wanted to kiss me. There was no mistake about it.

  “I’m sorry,” I breathed. “I didn’t mean to tackle you like that.”

  “Not that.” His tongue moistened his lips. “The way your body moved over mine just now,” he clarified in a sultry tone.

  His hands moved up my sides, as I lay frozen on his naked chest. I could feel how muscular, how perfectly defined his body was. The only thing separating my body from his was the thin piece of silk I wore. I bit my lip, trying not to think about him beneath me.

  “It’s been so long since I’ve been this close to a human and not . . . drunk.” He had trouble saying the word. My eyes were still focused on his perfect lips.

  “I’ve never . . . been this close to a human, like this.” His hands moved up and down my back again. The rhythmic movement wasn’t calming at all. My heart raced faster. The desire I felt was overwhelming.

  “I’m sorry,” I apologized again. “I didn’t mean to make you upset,” I said, remembering his reaction to being lunged at.

  “The old Phoebe would have growled back,” he teased, rolling me over so that he was now on top of me. His stare was piercing.

  “I’m not the old Phoebe,” I panted. “I’m not strong like her,” I said this like it was a bad thing.

  “There’s no question; you’re much more sensitive . . .” He made the word sound seductive.

  My eyes drifted to his. He wanted me, badly.

  I moved my hands up his chest and rested them on his shoulders. His skin was cool next to mine, and I welcomed it. Our lips were nearly touching . . .

  “I wouldn’t be a very good vampire, would I?” I breathed across his lips.

  His face pulled back a little. His eyes adjusted as they studied mine. “I wasn’t under the impression you were considering that.”

  “I’m not!” I exclaimed. “But, I have wondered.” I could feel my cheeks burning bright now; even in the dark. “I mean, I used to be a vampire, right? Maybe—”

  “No!” Marcus rolled away from me. “Do you think I’m going to let another vampire close enough to smell that you’re not only human, but part werewolf as well?” He looked at me like I was insane. “They’d kill you without question.”

  My mouth popped open at the harshness of his words. “I guess I can accept that, but what about you?” My voice got smaller. “Why can’t you do it? I mean, how else would you feel comfortable
being with me . . . physically.”

  He reached over and gently pulled me to him. His strong arms wrapped around me as he cradled me against his body. I stared back into his eyes, watching the crimson swirl amongst the chocolate brown I’d grown to love.

  “You can see me, clearly, in the dark, can’t you?” He had a look of wonderment.

  “Yes . . .”

  He shook his head. “Your body is going through so many changes. I’m not sure where it will stop. I can’t take the chance of turning you . . . I don’t know how you’d react to being bit now that you’ve been infected by a werewolf. Our bite can be extremely lethal to them.”

  I realized then that Marcus had considered turning me. He had to want to be with me as much as I wanted to be with him. There had to be a way . . .

  “If I were immortal, we could stay together, right?”

  He nodded hesitantly. His eyes searching mine for where I was going with this.

  “What if I were . . .” I had to be insane. I took a deep breath and braced for the explosion. “What if I were bit again . . . by a werewolf?

  His face fell. “What?” He pushed away from me completely and rose from the floor, his body suddenly on the other side of the room. His eyes were once again black and intense.

  “I said—”

  “I heard you! I just can’t believe you’d suggest it!” He spat the words at me.

  “You don’t have to get so mad. It was just an idea, I thought—”

  “You didn’t think!” he snapped. I could feel the moisture building in my eyes. “I don’t want you anywhere near a werewolf. They’ll be looking for you as it is. Let’s not make it any easier for them.”