Reawakening (24 page)

“Does his father possess the skill of mimicry?”

She cocked her head, studying him. “No.”

A plan began formulating. If he lived through the next week, could this be the way he would free himself from any indebtedness to anyone, and finally, for once in his long life, be entirely free?

The simple answer was, yes. But would Romaric accept his help?

He had to. Geoffrey just wouldn’t take no for an answer.

Chapter 39

Mike

“Thank you for seeing me on such short notice, Mr. Clark.”

“Oh please, call me Bud. Everyone does.”

Bud ushered Mike into the house, the screen door clanging loudly behind him as it closed. He followed him through the small, cluttered kitchen and into the living room, where Bud indicated he should take a seat on a heavily pilled, shit-brown couch that looked like it’d been pulled straight from the dump.

“Would you like some coffee or a glass of water?”

After seeing the state the kitchen was in, he’d pass. “No, thank you. I’m fine.”

“So, you said you had some information regarding Marna?”

Shit … he felt like a heel giving this man such false hope when he knew Marna was dead. Well … since there was no body, he didn’t
know
for sure, but there was simply no chance she was still alive.

“Is Mrs. Clark around? I’d rather talk to you both at the same time.”
And I’d love to see what she looks like
.

A sad look crossed Bud’s face. “I’m afraid Ellie passed last year. Her only wish before she died was that we’d find out what happened to our Marna. But I guess that wasn’t meant to be.”

You don’t want to know what happened to your daughter, Bud. Trust me.
“I’m sorry, sir.”

“Not your fault, son. Now, what can I help you with?” Bud leaned back in his lounge chair, the kind his dad always used to sit in and watch TV from the time he’d get home from the shop until he stumbled up to bed, drunk, hours later. Mike always hoped his dad would silently pass by his room on his way. Sometimes he was lucky. Other times he wasn’t. It didn’t take Mike long to learn not to fall asleep before his dad was passed out for the evening.

“Well, I’ve taken on a couple of cold missing persons cases, your daughter’s being one of them. I’d like to ask you a few questions if you don’t mind. Maybe look at some old photographs and see if I can get any new leads.”

“Of course. Anything I can do to help.” He paused, gaining composure before continuing. “I know my baby is dead, but it would sure bring me peace to be able to properly bury her remains before I join Ellie. And Marna.”       

Mike nodded respectfully. He’d put Bud over eighty-years old and his days were probably numbered. With the pallor, constant smoker’s cough and heavy stench of tobacco he’d smelled when Bud opened the door, he’d put him pretty damn close to death’s doorstep. And he’d like nothing more than to help this elderly man complete the dream of locating his daughter’s remains before he kicked the proverbial bucket. In fact, for some odd reason, that had now become his mission.

They spent the next hour talking about Marna. How she went missing, what she was like growing up and looking through old pictures that were mostly kept in shoeboxes. This man’s love for his daughter and his family was profusely apparent in not only every word he spoke, but the tone he used. It made his heart ache, wondering if he’d ever get the opportunity to build his own family.
Love
his own wife and children as much as this man apparently had.

Throughout their conversation, he’d discovered Bud and Ellie had been married for sixty-two years before she died. Incredible really. Living with one person day in and day out and to love them that deeply, that long. Would he ever get that? And while he wasn’t exactly sure how a human and vampire mating worked, he’d found the woman. She just needed to stop running.

His phone had buzzed in his pocket several times since he’d arrived at Bud’s, but he’d ignored it. Bud had taken the time to meet with him after just a phone call this morning and Mike thought it rude to whip out his cell. Besides, he was genuinely fascinated with Bud and his stories.

A knock on the door halted their conversation and Bud shuffled slowly out of the room, telling him he’d be right back, mumbling something about the damn doorknockers and that he needed to get a No Solicitation sign to hang.

Mike took the opportunity to pull out his phone, checking his messages. Three missed calls and six texts. All from Giselle. He didn’t have time to listen to the voice mails, but he quickly scanned the texts and each had gotten progressively nastier. A broad smile was plastered on his face.
Aw
…she
did
care.

Where r u?

Answer ur GD phone.

Is this some sort of childish payback? Grow the fuck up.

If ur fucking some othr whore, I will kill her. Then castrate u.

He didn’t get a chance to read the last two because Bud had returned and he couldn’t tear his eyes from the person trailing behind him.

“Detective Thatcher, this is my daughter, Brynne. Brynne, this is Detective Thatcher. He’s working on Marna’s case.”

He stood, still in a stupor. “Uh … Mike. Call me Mike.” Extending his hand to hers, she placed her smaller one in his.

“Mike, nice to meet you. I told my father to wait until I could get here, but obviously he ignored my request and went ahead without me.”

Mike turned to Bud. “I didn’t realize you had another daughter, Mr. Clark. I didn’t see Marna with a sister in any of the pictures you showed me.”

Bud threw his arm around Brynne, pulling her close. “Well, our Brynne was a surprise that came a little later in life, so there was quite an age difference between the two.”

He’d say. In fact, he’d put Brynne at no older than early thirties. Maybe not even thirty yet. So she came well after Marna even went missing.

But the thing that fascinated him most was that Brynne was the spitting image Sarah. They looked so much alike they could practically be twins. Mike didn’t need any medical records or blood samples or DNA. Because there was absolutely no doubt that he was standing in this dingy, grungy, messy house with Sarah’s maternal grandfather and her aunt Brynne.

And damn if it didn’t feel good to finally have at least one tiny win in his corner in this fucked up vampire nightmare he’d found himself mixed up in.

Chapter 40

Sarah

Warm breath skating over her inner thighs woke her. Thick fingers invading her tender, bruised flesh, which had been deliciously used the night before, caused an involuntary moan to escape. Even rousing from sleep, she was already wet and wanting her new mate.

“Rom … please.”

“I’m going to wake you like this every morning, beauty.”

What’s a girl to say to that? ‘Hmm … no I think I’ll pass?’

His tongue flicked her swollen bundle of nerves and her hips jackknifed off the bed. Rom wrapped his left hand under her thigh, and flattened it on her lower stomach, holding her in place while he assaulted her with his mouth and fingers. She was quickly racing to the finish line, only to be thrown over violently when Rom sunk his fangs into her fleshy mound, setting off a brutal, crashing climax.

Her legs still quivered when Rom crawled up her body, twined their fingers above her head and entered her so slowly her breath left her lungs. His large frame covered hers, their kisses languid, mimicking their lower bodies.

“I love you, Sarah,” he whispered, pulling back to lock eyes with hers. The truth of his words rang loud and she felt like sunbeams of happiness were bursting out of every pore.

“I love …”
Gasp
“… God, don’t stop.”

He chuckled, but it was strained with lust. “Take my blood.”

She’d wanted to from the second she woke, but she didn’t know how and she didn’t want to hurt him.

“You won’t hurt me, Sarah. Strike in the same place on my neck as I did yours. It’s that simple. Hurry, beauty. I’m close and I want my blood coursing through your veins when I come inside you.”

He freed her hands and she wrapped them firmly around his neck, drawing him to her. Once her lips touched his flesh, she instinctively knew what to do and the second she sunk her teeth into his skin, they both rocketed to blinding orgasm.

Seconds, minutes—hell, maybe hours later—they lay recovering and after Rom lovingly cleaned her again, he lay down pulling her back to his chest.

“What’s this?” He traced the cross tattoo she’d gotten on her shoulder in remembrance of her brother. He would have loved Rom. Idolized him. Six years was a lifetime, but only yesterday.

“It’s in memory of my brother, Jack. He died six years ago. He was eight.”

Rom turned her so they were face to face; the sadness in his eyes matched hers. He tucked a wayward hair behind her ear, fingers lingering on her skin. “I’m sorry, Sarah. What happened?”

“The unfairness of life happened.” Yes, she was bitter. She would have given anything to take Jack’s place, for he was far too young and precious to leave this earth so early. “He had chronic lymphocytic leukemia, or what the medical community refers to as CLL. It’s a very rare cancer in children. When he was four, he got sick and they couldn’t figure out what it was. He had a constant fever, he lost weight, which he couldn’t afford to do because he was already so little, and he slept all the time. It took months for them to make a diagnosis.” Months that maybe could have been used to save his life, she’d often thought.

“They tried chemotherapy first and that didn’t work. Then they moved to radiation and, for a while, he got better. They even said he went into remission. But then just a few months before he died, he became sick again and they restarted the radiation. They were discussing a stem cell transplant when he took a turn for the worse and just three days later, he was gone.”

By now, tears streamed freely down her face. Rom wiped at them, but they came faster than he could keep up with.

“Tell me about him,” he whispered against her lips before placing his softly on them.

She laughed, although through the tears it came out choked. “He was magical. I loved him so. I remember how sick my mom was when she was pregnant and so I didn’t like him before he was born, but oh my God, after I saw him the first time in the hospital, I was in love with him. I was ten and a little mother hen, so much so, that my mom had to tell me to back off.

“He was a little toe-headed blond with bright blue eyes and literally the cutest human being I’d ever seen. He couldn’t pronounce his r’s so he called me ‘Sawa’.” The smile she had thinking of him died. “A part of me died with him.”

Rom watched her with such empathy—and understanding—it made her heart ache. His lips found hers in a gentle, chaste kiss before pulling her completely in his arms.

“Do you ever dream of him?”

“No.” And she never understood that. She’d dreamt about so many things, she wondered why Jack had never come to her in all this time.

“Maybe he will someday.” Fingers massaged her scalp and she moaned. “Here, turn over onto your stomach.”

“Hmm … I think I need a little more recovery time. And maybe a soak first.”

Chuckling, he dipped his lips to her shoulder, nipping lightly. “While I’d love to be inside you all day, beauty, I want to massage you and then we’ll take a nice hot bath. I need you recovered because I intend to ravage my new mate later.”

Massage? Wow. Really? Can we skip that for the ravage part?

He laughed loudly now. She was face down and his hands kneaded firmly her tired, overused muscles. “Yes, Sarah. Really. Although on second thought, with my hands rubbing all over your sexy, sweat-covered skin, all I really want to do is sink my cock back inside your warm body.”

“Don’t you have to go to work or something?” she murmured, almost unable to string together a coherent sentence because she was so relaxed.

“No. I’m the boss.”

A loud moan escaped when he hit a particularly hard knot between her shoulder blades. “God, that feels so good,” she groaned.

His hands stilled and he moved her hair all to one side before she felt a hot tongue dragging a path toward her ear. In addition to the bonding, they’d made love twice in the night and again this morning, and she really was sore, but her sex still readied itself for her mate anyway. She imagined if she didn’t have his blood running through her body she’d be in agony by now because his cock definitely stretched the limits of her sex. She smiled.

“You’re making me so fucking hard with those sounds, Sarah. If you keep moaning like that, I’m not going to be able to help myself from taking you again right now.”

She wanted to tell him to do it. Slide it in. She wanted it from behind. Hell, she wanted it any and every way possible. Instead, she muttered, “You’re insatiable.”

“Fuck, Sarah. You want it any and every way and I’m the insatiable one?” His breath feathered across her flushed skin, causing goose bumps to break out. “You love it. Don’t deny it. Your body doesn’t lie.”

Oh, she wouldn’t.
Sex with Romaric was unlike any pleasure she thought humanly possible. Now she knew why Kate and Analise had Barbie doll smiles plastered on their faces twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week.

All too soon his hands left her body and she felt the bed dip when he got off.

“Come back,” she whined.

His lips touched her temple. “I’m going to draw a bath. I’ll be right back.”

Massage? Bath? Declarations of love?
Who knew the stuffy, enigmatic, buttoned-up Romaric Dietrich had a soft, romantic side? Her sisters would never believe her in a million years. Yet he did. He’d showed it multiple times over the last week.

Several minutes later he returned, scooped her up in his arms, and carried her into the elaborate bathroom, up the three stairs to the sunken tub, which he’d filled to the brim with steaming water and bubbles.