“I’m sorry…I mean, I want you, but…”
“It’s all right, Richelle. I understand.”
“But I…”
He stopped her short, placing his finger upon her lips and shushing her.
“I understand.”
His eyes conveyed such consideration, she relaxed. She took a deep breath and smiled.
“Thank you.”
She realized her ignoble position—sitting in Valya’s lap with the top of her slip about her waist. Blushing, she pulled up her slip to cover her breasts and placed the straps on her shoulders. The way he watched her as she dressed unnerved her. He looked at her like he was ready to pounce, and her breath came in short pants.
“It’s all right, Richelle. I
do
understand.”
He placed his hands on her hips and slid her off his lap to sit beside him, their hips touching.
“Do you want to look around?”
She nodded. Straightening up to get her bearings, she perused her new home.
It was big. No, it was humongous! Architecturally designed as an industrial loft, it was one large room with a twenty-five-foot ceiling. A kitchenette was off to the far right with a dining set for two beside it. To the left was a seating area with a contemporary entertainment center holding an elaborate stereo system and music library, but no television.
On the front wall hung a set of double doors framed by two large windows on either side. Wide-slat blinds offering maximum defense from sunlight covered the glass. There was light from six hanging bell lights, their soft light highlighting the colors of the room and shapes of the sparse furniture. There was additional track lighting and several artifacts and pieces of artwork hanging on the wall.
The entire apartment looked like it had been professionally decorated in shades of wine, gold, and black, chicly tasteful. It exuded a sense of
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masculinity, but was cozy despite the enormity of the room. Everything was so enormous—the size of the room, the entertainment center, the ceilings…even their bed.
On display as if it were the focal point of the room, the bed was oversized and made of brass, sitting upon a step-up floor so it was slightly elevated from the rest of the room. The mattress was plush and soft, a direct contrast to the metal spindles of the headboard. With black silk sheets and burgundy comforter, an air of decadence surrounded her as if she had stepped into the sultan’s tent to share his bed.
“I thought Vampyres slept in their coffins.” She giggled, unable to keep the laughter from her voice.
“I am not a Vampyre, I am an Immortal,” he responded and then did an extremely good impersonation of Bela Lugosi. “Besides, sleeping in a coffin would not be nearly as enjoyable as having you sleep in here with me,” he replied as he waggled his brows at her.
“And not nearly as roomy either.”
“Soft bed, soft woman, what more could a man want?”
She averted her eyes and giggled like a flirtatious high school cheerleader with the quarterback of the football team.
He held her chin between his thumb and finger and turned her to face him. His expression was solemn, and his eyes were sincere.
“But seriously, don’t believe everything you’ve seen in old Vampyre movies. Mortals have a habit of explaining things they don’t understand.
They take facts and twist them into fiction, sometimes for the better. But mostly, for the worse.”
“So I shouldn’t worry about being turned into the undead by having an Immortal drink my blood?”
Valya flinched. She would pick that.
“There have been some mortals who were changed to the
undead
by a Vampyre. But it is against Immortal Law to do so. Converting someone in that way takes away the person’s choice. And in all matters, we cannot make the decision. It must be
their choice.
”
“Free will, and all that, huh?”
“Yes.” He nodded. “We are Immortals, governed by ancient laws
determining right and wrong. And if an Immortal chooses to turn away from those laws, he becomes what men call a Vampyre, bent on destruction and
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mad with the lure of power. A Vampyre is judged and sentenced; to death. It is a matter of choice. Even in the matter of our life mates. When an Immortal finds their life mate, whether they be mortal or Immortal, they must
choose
to bond together and complete the ritual.”
“You mean, after all this…I can say no?”
* * * *
His gut clenched again.
What if she says no?
He had waited so long for Richelle. He could just complete the ritual and then spend eternity making her happy, begging her forgiveness. But that would be abandoning all he had been taught, everything he believed. And he would not be able to live if she never forgave him for forcing the decision upon her.
“Yes, you could,” he affirmed through clenched teeth.
She could sense his uneasiness, his agitation if she would turn away and leave him. She snuggled back into his arms, resting her head in the crook of his shoulder.
“You were right about what you said in the cave,” she started as she ran her fingertip over his pectorals, making large figure eights around his flat male nipples. She liked the sharp intake of his breath as she came dangerously close to touching them. “I know about Immortals but understand very little.”
“I have had centuries to learn the teaching and laws of my people. You cannot be expected to learn so much. You will learn in time.”
“What’s involved with this bonding ritual? I mean…what happens?”
Clearing his throat, he raised his free hand and placed it behind his head, propping himself up.
“The first blood is the easiest. It is when I taste your blood for the first time. If you were Immortal, we would both taste each other for the first time.”
“And make love the first time?”
“No, not necessarily make love, but it is more pleasurable when we do.
It is much like how we feed. Those who haven’t found their life mates usually have to hunt to find their sustenance.”
“Couldn’t you just go to another Immortal for your…sustenance?”
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“We could, and do, if we are in the same area. But there are so few of us, and even fewer females among my race. It was decided long ago by the elders that if our race is to perish, then we would spend what time we have left in the service of mankind, finding ways to help men survive and destroying evil.”
“Well, why are there so few Immortal females?”
Valya sighed heavily as his thoughts drifted to the past. Images from history filled his mind; untrained Immortals eager for battle, sacrificing their lives for others; those who chose to turn away from Immortal Law humanely put to death; humans, not understanding the difference, hunting Immortals and Vampyres and gruesomely killing them. It was a shadowy history filled with anger, betrayal, chaos, and death. But he was leaving the darkest part out.
“And the females?” she questioned again.
Valya shielded his mind from her so she could not see the horrific images of their torturous deaths.
“Although stronger than humans, Immortal females are not as powerful as males. They make easier targets, so many of our females were murdered by so-called
Vampyre hunters
.” Involuntarily, memories of his sister surfaced. She had a joyous spirit, so innocent and giving, a child of the world not unlike Richelle. And her existence, like a candle in the wind, was snuffed out with no more remorse than swatting a mosquito.
His parents’ anguish when he carried her small, lifeless body home was inconsolable. His father threw himself into battle, vowing death before dishonor, and kept that vow three years after he buried his daughter. His mother, without her daughter or her life mate, faced the Dawn, leaving him alone to carry on. It was then he began his training as a Guardian, an elite sentinel dedicated to the protection of good and destruction of evil.
As a Guardian, it was his duty, his right, to seek out the guilty and bring them to justice. When he finally found them, the unbridled rage he unleashed upon those who had destroyed his family did not compare with any justice he meted out in battle. It was a dark episode in his life that he would not let be repeated.
He was blocking his mind from Richelle. He didn’t want her to see the images of how Vampyre hunters killed their victims. He was grateful when she didn’t press the issue.
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“What about the second blood?”
“Second blood is a little harder. At first, there will be a physical sensation unlike any other you’ve known.”
She winced. “Pain?”
He snickered. “Hardly. A wondrous, euphoric feeling like nothing you’ve ever experienced or imagined.”
“I don’t see anything wrong with that.” She smiled like a Cheshire cat and giggled. “Although I can’t imagine it being any better than when you kiss me or touch me so…intimately.”
His cock jerked at her words. Closing his eyes, he growled low as he reined in his lust. He took a few deep breaths before responding slowly.
“Afterwards, you’ll feel lightheaded, dizzy, and nauseated. You won’t be able to eat or drink anything. You’ll feel like you’re drowning in murky water, unable to think clearly. And part of your memories will be affected.”
“Affected?”
“Missing. Muddled. Some will be intact without any problems.
Others…will be just be gone.”
Understandably, she gulped. It was an unsettling thought not having your memories to rely on, to guide you.
“For how long?”
“Until the third blood and we complete the ritual.”
“Wait a minute. I thought you said it was my choice to bond with you.”
“It is.”
“Well, if I’m not able to think straight and my memories may have more holes than Swiss cheese, then how can I choose?”
Valya held her close as he began to stroke her hair, trying to soothe her as much as he was trying to calm himself, wanting to give her the answers she wanted but fearing her reaction to the truth.
“Life mates
choose
to bond but have been pre-destined for each other.
For that reason, some intuitive, instinctive need in our genes draws us together. We recognize our mates, and based on that sixth sense, we complete the ritual.”
“But I’m not Immortal,” she argued. “What if, when the time comes, I don’t recognize you?”
Squeezing her tightly against him, he kissed the top of her head.
“You will.”
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Her head jerked up at his words. She stared at him with anxious eyes.
“But what if I don’t?”
He rubbed the tip of her nose with his before kissing it lightly.
“Then we don’t complete the ritual.”
“Has that ever happened before? An Immortal not completing the ritual?”
“Just once,” he replied gravely.
“What happened to him?” she asked.
He didn’t want to answer but she deserved the truth. “He is a Vampyre.”
* * * *
Her face scrunched in disbelief. She stared at Valya for a moment before she lay her head back down against his chest.
“How terrible.” She lay silent, trying to absorb everything Valya had told her. It seemed that the only way to get everything they dreamed of was to let go of everything they had. And trust fate. She didn’t know if she could trust anyone like that again. She had already lost everyone she had loved.
How could she take this leap of faith?
What if she lost Valya because she didn’t recognize him?
What if she lost Valya because she didn’t complete the ritual and he turned Vampyre?
“I don’t know, Valya. There are so many variables, so much to think about.” She started fidgeting in his arms, and sensing her emotions bubbling beneath the surface, he loosened his hold.
“It’s natural to be nervous. After all, this is akin to a bride’s pre-wedding jitters.”
“But usually, it’s the groom who has the jitters, not the bride.”
His smile was one of genuine warmth and sheer love.
“This groom has waited for his life mate for too long. I knew the moment I saved you as a child you were destined for me. Even if you do not trust yourself, I do.”
She calmed slightly, reassured for the moment. She didn’t know what to do. Should she turn left or turn right? She was making this decision for a lifetime. And in the case of Immortals, a lifetime was…forever.
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“I-I just don’t know. I know I’ve never,
ever
felt about anyone the way I feel about you. But I was alone for so long…”
“So was I,” he interrupted, taking her head and pressing it against his chest. Her sleek tresses fell forward and caressed his hot skin in a silky promise. “I know we are destined for each other. I don’t want to be alone, without you, another moment longer.”
Her heart was pounding in her ear, but as she pressed closer to Valya’s chest, she heard nothing.
“You have no heartbeat,” she whispered.
“You are my heart. I am incomplete without you. Once the ritual is complete, our hearts will beat together as one forever.”
Many women would have given their eyeteeth to have a man declare undying devotion for a lifetime. After all, wasn’t that the stuff of romance novels? But Richelle was scared.
“I need some time to think this through. Can you understand?”
Valya sighed.
“I can give you time.”
“Thank you.”
“As long as you spend that time with me,” he added quickly.
“All right. I can do that.” She sat up with her back to him and diffidently covered herself with the sheet. She glanced over her shoulder and gave him an affectionate smile. She could see how his cock spiked beneath the covers, ready to lay her back down and complete the ritual this moment.
Instead, he released her to wave to a closed door off to the side.
“I suggest you go get bathed and dressed before I insist we spend the rest of the night in bed.”
She jerked up, dragging the sheet with her and wrapping it around her body.