Immortal Heat (The Guardians of Dacia Book 1) (23 page)

Still, she kept out of site. She had things to do before turning herself in to Gerlich. Marilyn just hoped he would be at the blood bank. She didn't want to run the risk of having Draylon try to rescue her or talk her out of finding her mother. She was no longer afraid to take a chance. Her mother's life depended on her being strong. She needed to do this.

The apartment hadn't changed since leaving to find Tina's cross-stitch. They'd planned to watch a movie, eat popcorn and chill. The air popcorn machine still sat out on the counter, ready for use, the container of popcorn, popcorn oil and bowls were all there. A bottle of moscato d'asti sat chilling in a bucket of what had been ice but now was a pail of tepid water. Had it all been just yesterday? Not even twenty-four hours and now life as she knew it, or remembered had been totally rebuilt into a fantasy of immortality and shape-shifting. She uncorked the bottle and took a healthy swig, hoping it would either calm her nerves or give her strength.

Her room, her sanctuary, held the answer. She needed the medallion. Opening her lingerie drawer, she pulled out a wooden box where she kept her precious artifact. This simple half piece to an ancient puzzle was the reason behind everything happening to her these past few months. But what did it all mean? And would she know what to do with it when and if the time came?

She ran her fingers over the embossed design. The wolf's head, a sacred Dacian symbol. She wondered if this might be more than just a symbolic artifact. What had her father known about the Dacians? Did he lose his life because of this? Had he encountered the paranormal clan she had and suffered the consequences? Did Aiden Vamier get to him before he could turn something so valuable into the proper authorities? So many questions now with no real answers.

Was there an underlying mystery to his disappearance in Romania? To have her most recent events center around the very area her father was last seen was too much of a coincidence. She wanted answers, and she would get them no matter how she had to do it.

With her goals in mind and determination strong, she threw together her backpack of enough clothes and gear to see her through for awhile. Thinking about her changing and shifting she added a few more items. What to do with her medallion? Placing the necklace around her neck, she decided she would keep it on her. No other place would be safe.

Ready as she could ever be, Marilyn gave herself to the dangers of the unknown.

#

Waking up with two huge dogs laying on the bed with her, Diane Reddlin tried to move without jarring them. She was trapped beneath the covers, their bodies too heavy to lift the secure blankets.

She opted to wiggle her way out of the formed area around her. Hunching her knees up to her chest, she swung her body around and made a soft landing to the wooden floor. Thank God for years of yoga and Pilates. At forty-nine, she considered herself pretty flexible for an old broad.

The men's large button down shirt she wore draped to her knees. She remembered coming here with Ren and Ron, realizing that they weren't going to take her home or let her go. She hadn't been happy but they hadn't hurt her…yet.

Walking out into the larger part of the wooden lodge-house the two men shared, she went in search of her backpack. The aroma of fresh brewed coffee had her off her true course in an instant. The open concept house allowed her to view the huge, sunk in living area with over-stuffed leather and suede furniture and the chef's kitchen with an open sitting breakfast bar.

The coffee maker gurgled its last remains of water through the reservoir. The rich, dark brew steamed as she went in search of a large coffee mug.

Heavy wooden cabinets dominated the kitchen, accented with stainless steel, industrial appliances. At least she knew how to work them, having the same brand at home in her kitchen. She would worry about breakfast after she poured some coffee into her system.

Opening the cabinets she found heavy stoneware and beer steins, pilsner glasses and heavy-duty pots and pans, nothing dainty or delicate in this kitchen. This was a man's kitchen. She found the cabinet full of mugs the size of milk pitchers.

Shrugging, she poured her mug three-quarters of the way full, and then searched in the side by side French door style refrigerator for some milk or cream. The appliance was filled with glass bottles of whole milk, cheese, meats and beer. She poured milk into her coffee and searched next for the sweetener. She liked the pink packets but could only find actual sugar. It would have to do.

The morning sun coming in through the large windows and glass doors had her basking in the warmth, staring out at the pristine view of what could only be described as paradise. Lush green grass carpeted the valley before her, edged with dense pine forests climbing up the sides of snow topped mountains.

"Beautiful."

Startled by the husky male voice behind her, Diane jerked, sloshing coffee over her mug. Ron stood before her in a pair of baggy grey sweatpants. Nothing more, nothing less. His dark hair had hints of silver that did nothing but enhance his features. This was all man, though he appeared to be several years younger than her. But from the charming smile and heated look in his eyes, age didn't matter at the moment.

"Even more so in my shirt. I've never seen it look so good, especially with you back-lit by the sun coming through the windows."

Diane blushed and retreated away from the light. She couldn't be taken in by his smooth talk and his disarming good looks. She had a purpose here. She needed to find her daughter and get home.

"We need to talk," she said, sitting down at the rough-hewed kitchen table.

Ron cocked his brow and went to fill a mug with coffee…and sugar. He smiled as she watched him dump in three spoonfuls of the sweetness, stirred and approached her on those feet that were some of the sexiest feet she'd ever seen. It made her wonder about the old adage, "a man and the size of his feet."

He sat down across from her and leaned over the table to capture a lock of her hair. "I like my coffee like I like my women…hot and sweet."

She tugged her hair back out of his hand, and gathering it up self-consciously, flung it over her shoulder so he couldn't get it anymore.

"Well good to know—I'm neither. Don't try to sweet talk me. I want answers." She wasn't the CFO of Livedel for nothing. Her backbone and grit got her into her position. A sexy, younger man who made her insides tingle just listening to his voice wasn't going to sway her.

"To what questions?" He leaned back but maintained a mocking smile.

"Where in the hell are we and why did you bring me here?"

"This is our house and you are our guest," he said simply.

"I got that. I'm looking deeper, so cut the crap."

Ron sobered and crossed his arms over his chest, which didn't help her situation at all. His pectoral muscles bulged against the muscles in his arms. She wasn't a woman who found herself attracted to a man with chest hair, but she wanted to run her fingers through his.

"Fine. You want the truth. I'll give it to you, but it won't make any difference to your circumstance if that's what you're after."

"Just humor me. I'm an old woman."

He eyed her up and down. "There's nothing old about you, Diane."

There was that sexy voice again, but this time, it sounded sincere.

"Thank you. But please, just give me the facts."

"Very well." He closed his eyes in distress and opened them, squinting at her. "How much do you want to know?"

"Everything."

He slowly let out a breath, nodding. "Your daughter is safe. Marilyn is with Draylon Conier in Austria, being protected from those who might wish to harm her. Ren and I met your daughter when Draylon brought her to Nonni's in Cluj-Napoca a few weeks ago. She'd taken ill but recovered only to have the Vamiers after her. Draylon managed to get her to safety though."

"Vamiers? Who are they?"

"What I'm about to tell you might be difficult for you to understand. You're asking me to tell you everything, so I will, but it's going to take faith for you to believe in what I'm saying."

She waved him on. "Just tell me. Who are the Vamiers and why are they after Marilyn?"

"We are immortal. There are two clans of ancient Dacian warriors who were under our great prophet, Zamolxis when the Romans came and finally conquered our lands. Zamolxis took us into his care, away from the rest of the world into his 'underground,' which is not an underground at all but what most scientists would consider a rip in the fabric of reality.

"These rips are found in few select areas on Earth, one being the Hoia Forest." He paused sipping his coffee, methodically placing the mug back down before continuing. "As I said, there are two immortal clans, the Vamiers and the Delvantes. We're the only ones of our true people remaining."

"Immortal, as in lives forever?" Diane shook her head in disbelief.

"Exactly. We live here the majority of our lives but also blend in with our human brethren. We can come and go from Dacia as we please."

"So the Vamiers live here too?"

"No." Therron shook his head. "They were shunned by the great god himself. They were sent out to seek their own fortune and fate, yet they're always looking for a way to conquer the Delvante clan and re-enter Dacia."

"And this isn't good?" Diane drawled, narrowing her gaze at him.

It was a moment or two before Ron continued. "The Vamiers were the creatures in which so much Romanian folklore is based on, the great vampires, or as they are known here in Dacia, strigoi or moroii. They still exist, hunting the battle grounds of time for those who wish to live forever."

"They suck blood?"

"They only take those who wish to become one of them or those who are dying and asking to live. A long time ago they thirsted on livestock, which brought about the horror stories. But the gods made it so they couldn't feast on them anymore. So some rogues started feasting on unwilling humans and that is when Rick Delvante set up a program in order to hunt down and kill those who didn't abide by the laws the Dacian gods had given them. We still hunt down those who stray."

Was this guy for real? Immortal? Vampires? Rips in reality? Diane stood up from the table and backed away. "Wait? Did you say, Rick Delvante? As in the CEO of Livedel?"

Ron smiled. "The very same."

Her boss, the one she'd worked with for over twenty-five years was…"Is he immortal, too?"

Ron only nodded.

Diane sat back in her chair. Shock, defeat, confusion, it all warred within her. She'd never met the man, and yet he'd taken her in and made her what she was. Why? Was it because of her expertise in the business or something else? Had he known about Richard's disappearance here in the Hoia Forest? Is that why she'd been 'Rick's pet' as office rumors had once stated? Had Rick felt guilty about Richard's death and catered to her? And now, her daughter was under the protection of someone to avoid a group of vampires located just outside this…this
portal…
was it all connected somehow?

"I don't know what kind of shit you're trying to pull on me, but this is sad," she said, shaking her head.

"You asked for everything…I gave it to you. It's up to you on how you wish to deal with it," Ron stated, taking another sip of coffee.

Diane didn't know what to think, but she wasn't going to stay here any longer than necessary. Not with a psycho-delusional man who could make her weak with just a glance. It was said that the mass murderer, Ted Bundy had the same effect on women and look what happened to them.

She shook her head, not sure why but backed away and headed for the hallway to the bedroom, so she could locate her clothes and get the hell out of here.

As she turned to enter the bedroom she stopped in her tracks.

The other dog on the bed woke. Stretching out to full length, it morphed into Ron's twin brother, Ren.

Okay, so maybe she was the psycho-delusional one. There was no way a dog just turned into a man.

Chapter Fifteen

Sitting in front of Aiden Vamier, Marilyn wasn't sure what to expect. Here was the man who had started it all for her. Professor Vamier, the foremost authority on Dacian history. He looked nothing like a professor.

The two days she'd been in Gerlich's custody, she'd been treated kindly and with utmost respect. He'd flown her in a private jet from Frederick to Cluj, making stops only to refuel. But she hadn't been tied up or drugged like she thought she'd be.

No, when Marilyn had turned herself in at the blood bank, Gerlich had treated her as if she were royalty and was delighted to take her to Aiden. She hadn't expected that either. Maybe they were just fattening her up for the kill.

"So what is it that I may do for you, Miss Reddlin?" Aiden sat on the corner of his desk.

The room was early Baroque. Walls of bookshelves made up the interior design of the two floor office. The musty smell of old books and older money permeated the dark room and yet it held an elegance about it, like the man confronting her.

"You know what I want."

His brows twitched. "Indeed, I do not. You came to me. Though I must say I was clearly miffed when you didn't show up as expected for our semester of instruction. I found your paper quite fascinating and wished to discuss it more in length." He threw a charming smile at her. "It's not every day I come across a young student who shares in my love of my early people."