The Lost Centurion (The Immortals Book 1) (12 page)

“This one faces the pines and it’s usually darker than the other rooms.” He let her in, then closed the door and walked to the windows to pull the venetian blinds and the curtains to darken the place. “I think it should work.”

She could still see well in the pitch black he had created, but there was no light coming through from the outside. “It’s perfect. My skin is already healing.” She ambled through the room at ease and turned on the small night lamp for him. “This room is beautiful.” With a big wave of her right hand, she gestured to encompass the big place, its ceiling high enough for a loft.

“I forgot about the window up there, but it seems it is already closed. Just let me check it is locked.” He headed to the small spiral staircase at his right, his hands out, scouting the place.

“Do you need a brighter light?”

“No, that’s okay.” He reached the mezzanine a few steps later.

She couldn’t see him from downstairs; the loft was larger than she had estimated, but she heard him moving around. “This furniture looks different from the rest of the house.” Now that she had fed and contained the hunger, fatigue claimed her, and she half-sat, half-fell on the big bed covered in a pale aqua-green silk duvet.

“Alexander went through a Far East phase a few hundred years ago. This bedroom was decorated with pieces that came from a bankrupted Chinese estate.” He reappeared, started down the stairs, then decided to jump the whole set of them.

The image of a big, dark puma passed through Diana’s thoughts as he landed on his feet, legs slightly bent at the knees. She relaxed on the duvet, caressing the silk fabric which gave her more to think about in regard to Marcus’s black mane and how it reminded her of the feline. When he sauntered to the bed, Diana’s breath caught in her throat, and she grabbed one of the tube pillows with the fringes lying at her back.

“This bed belonged to royalty.” He gave her a long stare, then pointed at one of the watercolors decorating the walls.

Diana followed his finger and focused on the portrait of a girl with straight jet-black hair and almond shaped black eyes. “She looks so young. Do you know what happened to her?”

“She was shipped here with the rest of her house and treated like the princess she was.” He hovered by the bed.

“Did you meet her?”

He took two steps back and toward the door. “I did. She was lovely and brightened the day of anyone who had the good fortune to be in her presence.”

She felt a dull ache at his statement. It made her feel sad to think she would never be that person for him. “Did the two of you…?”

He waited for her to finish the sentence, but she couldn’t find the rest of the words. With the hint of a smile, he shook his head. “Alexander doted on her as a daughter, and I was lucky she elected me as her putative uncle.”

She heard the longing in his voice and a different pain took hold of Diana. “Did she like it here?”

“She was a smart child and knew that despite her fate, she had been lucky in ending with Alexander. She could’ve had a worse life.” Marcus grabbed the wrought iron door handle shaped as a stylized leaf.

Diana thought of her fate as a child. “She was lucky.”

“In a way, yes, she was.” He lowered the handle and turned on his heels. “But I always thought Alexander was the lucky one.”

She wondered about his wishful tone, but didn’t know how to go about asking what she wanted to ask. Finally, she decided to be direct. “Do you have kids?”

He stilled, but didn’t face her. “No, I never had any children.”

She hesitated before asking, “But you can still have kids if you want. Right?”

He nodded, his shoulders shuddered, and he inched toward the hallway. “Have a good sleep.”

“Marcus?”

He stopped halfway out of the bedroom, his frame filling the space.

She hugged the pillow, her stomach full of butterflies. “Stay.”

He stood there, the light from the atrium outlining him, his shadow almost reaching her bed.

“Please?” She hated that her voice sounded weak. She had never accepted escort gigs where she had to play a submissive part and now she was begging for company.

His head slouched toward his chest. “I need to take care of several things.” His hands were on the door frame and he propelled himself forward. “See you later.”

****

Marcus closed the door behind and flinched when it swung on its hinges with more strength than necessary. He thought he heard Diana gasp and let himself fall to the floor, then leaned against the wall separating him from her. He had wanted to stay and spend the rest of the day watching as she slept in his arms. When he was near her, he forgot she was the enemy.

The sun was rising and white warmth kissed his face, making him smile at the simple pleasure of it and reminding him he and Diana belonged to different races. Sunlight would heal him and kill her. He rose from the mosaic floor and went to the terrace. Seagulls chased each other, riding the thermals in long trajectories, their cries harmonizing with the undertow reshaping the beach below. Marcus swung his legs over the wrought iron balustrade painted a creamy white and perched on the narrow outer edge, looking more like a gargoyle than a man. His eyes closed, he filled his remaining senses with the sounds and smells pervading the early morning. Right between the end of the summer season and the beginning of fall was Marcus’s favorite time of the year to visit the Amalfi Coast. He wove his arms through the wrought iron fence and anchored himself to the building, raising his head to the sky.

The muffled but distinct echo of hurried steps made him jump, and he yanked his shoulders. A moment later, he had freed himself from the iron constraint, and jumped back onto the terrace, but besides the wind playing with the foliage of the lemon trees, the birds’ calls, the crashing waves, and a few cicadas that hadn’t gone to sleep yet, there wasn’t anything else to listen to. He walked the whole perimeter of the terrace, back and forth twice, then a third time leaning over the balustrade in case he had missed any of the spots shadowed by the jutting structure of the balcony. When he was sure nothing was out of place in the gardens and the beach, he hurried back inside and walked straight to the princess’s bedroom. His fingers wrapped the door handle that had always felt uncomfortable in its beautiful design, but he didn’t lower it. Instead, he passed his left hand over his face, starting with his eyes and ending with his jaws and throat, feeling the stubble he hadn’t bothered to shave in a few days, now thick under his touch.

“What am I doing here?” He repeated the motion upward and applied pressure over his temples, trying to ease the growing irritation that wouldn’t let him relax. “I’m just tired and hungry.” He forwent the kitchen and the promise of food in favor of a bed and opened the first door on the left of Diana’s. The three windows in that bedroom were closed and he parted the curtains to take one last look at the grounds below. From that side of the house, he could see the orchards and the pine forest bordering the edge of the cliff. In the distance, he saw the gardeners working at the boxwood edges at the entry of the property. Relieved it must have been them he had heard earlier, he went to rest on the small bed at the center of the room. Although he had felt too keyed up to rest, he was asleep the moment his head hit the pillow.

The way Aurelia took care of her appearance never ceased to be a source of surprise to Marcus. He would have kissed the ground she walked on even if she had decided not to wear jewelry or makeup or elaborate wigs. With her back to him, wearing her hair in an elaborate style, all tight ringlets surrounding her like a crown, she lay on their triclinium and his heart skipped a few beats remembering the last time they had both shared that seat. If he closed his eyes, he could see where her long, immaculate toga with the silver border had tumbled to the floor. His fingers went to the lower lip she had bitten, the sting mixed with pleasure reverberating through his body as the memory played out for him.

“Wife.” The word a bitter-sweet reminder of what was now only a contract to Aurelia. He would have taken the crumbs of her love if only she would allow some affection between them. But she had withdrawn in her cults and shut him out of her life, leaving him alone and heartbroken.

She didn’t answer his call. He hadn’t expected her to, but each and every time he hoped she would turn at his voice and smile at seeing him. The night wasn’t cold, but her shoulders were naked and he leaned to cover her. Only then, he realized how preternaturally still she was. Trembling, he reached out his hand to touch skin he knew in the dream would be cold and stiff. Then he would lean over her and notice the blood cascading down her throat in two twin waterfalls, collecting on her lap.

This time, a few details were different. He woke to piercing screams.

“Wake up!”

Two small hands grabbed a bunch of his shirt and shook him.

“It’s just a dream.”

A soothing voice whispered to his ear.

“I’m here.”

The screaming receded from the background and he was able to open his eyes.

“I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.” Diana hugged him tight. “It was only a dream. Nothing more than a bad nightmare.”

He let her comfort him, her scent wrapping him like a blanket. He snuggled into her embrace and felt her subtle sigh when his lips brushed the spot between her ear and jaw. His hands went to her back, roaming her small frame up and down until his fingers caught the hem of her top and crawled underneath and to the side. She shivered and stilled when he grazed her breasts, then reassured she wasn’t going to stop him, he cupped them. He liked how they fit inside his palms. At her moans, he tugged at her nipples. “Little thing… what are you doing to me?” His mouth took the place of his fingers and he took one nipple between his teeth, gently teasing it, until she was shaking so much he stopped and yanked her top out of the way. He rolled Diana with him until her back was on the bed and he was on top of her, his hands at her shorts, pulling them down to discover the panties he had chosen for her.

“Marcus…”

He heard the urgency in her voice and his senses went in overdrive while his fingers hooked through the lace of her white panties and tore them apart. His body was ready to claim hers, but when he raised his eyes to look at her and ask the final permission, he froze.

“Marcus—” She was crying, her body shaken by the hunger showing through her black-onyx, dead eyes.

He swore out loud and removed himself from the bed, leaving her doubled over and trembling in the middle of it. She hid her face into the coverlet and rolled into fetal position, her sobs wreaking her body as much as the violent shaking.

He watched as she became smaller and smaller, her suffering making her disappear, while he was unable to shake himself into action. The last remnants of his nightmare came back to him in terrifying clarity, and he felt himself breaking from the inside when, for the second time, the image of a dead Aurelia was replaced by a dead Diana. And he remembered calling Diana’s name in the sleep, not Aurelia’s as he always did, asking her to never leave him, pleading her not to die.

Next thing he knew, he was offering his throat to her, and she was feeding from him, still sobbing, still shaking. He wanted her to keep going until he fainted and whispered his request to her.

“No!” she screamed and removed her fangs, propelling herself to the other end of the narrow bed and slamming her back to the headboard. Both hands over mouth, her fangs peeking through her fingers, she panted as if she had run. “No.” She brought her knees to her chin and hid her face between them. “You must let me go.”

Finally, the haze holding Marcus hostage dissipated. “No. I won’t.” He moved on the bed until he was sitting side by side with her.

“You shouldn’t have asked me that.” She didn’t look at him and kept her body angled so that they wouldn’t touch. “I wouldn’t know when to stop and I’d drain you.”

Marcus poked at her right knee. “I’m fine.”

“This time.” In the limited space, she found a way to draw her body away from his touch.

“I am immortal. It takes a lot more than that to kill me.” He scooted alongside her, not wanting to give her respite, his mind reeling with a chaos of clashing images, his body painfully aware of her nearness. “Let me touch you.” His hands were on her bare legs, pulling her closer to him before she would deny him.

“Marcus, don’t—” She pushed at his chest when his fingers moved up her legs, but her try lacked intention. “I don’t know how I would react if you take me like this—”

“I won’t. Don’t worry.” He took her wrists and lowered her hands on the duvet, then leaned over and rested his forehead against hers. “I’ve never had a woman who didn’t beg me for it and I won’t start now.” She was naked before him, the faint outline of his hands glowing over her bikini line where he had tugged at her panties. All the painful marks etched on her body laid out for him to see. He wanted to ask who had done that to her, and at the same time, he wanted to kiss each scar to make her forget. Her chest raised and lowered as his did, too fast, but he forced himself to slow his breathing, while he kept both their hands intertwined. “Are you still hungry?”

She shook her head, but he could feel she was working hard to keep the shivering subdued.

“Do not lie to me.” He squeezed her hands, not to hurt her, but to let her know he could read through her deception.

She shivered. “I’ve had enough.”

Frustration built inside of him. “You’ll soon develop the equivalent of vampire anorexia if you refuse to take from me what you need.”

“I’ll deal with it when the time comes.” She jerked her shoulders backward to free her hands from his hold and he let her.

He regretted it right away, missing even that small contact with her. “Do not even think to bring up your former clients as your solution.”

“But you would be safer—”

“I would be in agony.” Marcus’s need to hold her grew to such intensity he couldn’t remember if he had ever ached that much for a woman. When all his senses screamed for him to take her, he stood and walked out of the bedroom.