Blood Spirit (9 page)

The
months of waiting for the child dwindled with each sunset that passed as Eva
grew in size and beauty. For the first time in his brief life, Mateo looked
back with no regrets. Whatever he had given up when he had left his father no
longer mattered when he could count a loving wife he adored and the birth of
their first child as blessings of a good life.

At
the end of each day, he lay next to her and softly rubbed her expanding belly,
sometimes placing his ear next to it to listen. She would laugh and tease him
that babies were silent creatures until much later, so he would whisper to that
unseen miracle of life about how his mother chided his father for his silliness
but that he loved her all the same for it.

"Mateo,
your son is going to think you are a madman," she whispered one night as
he spoke to their unborn child.

"Not
a madman. Just eager to meet the soul his mother and I created."

Quietly,
she asked, "What if it is a girl?"

Oddly,
he'd never considered that possibility. "A girl? A daughter instead of a
son?"

"Yes.
What if our child is your daughter? Will you be disappointed?"

Mateo
heard the concern in her voice. A son to carry on his name would be a gift from
God. But a daughter would be no less loved.

Tenderly
kissing her belly, he whispered, "I could no more be disappointed in a
daughter than I could in her mother. Whatever you are, my child, you are
loved."

Terek
cursed the memory of that time as the sorrow that still remained made a lump
form in his throat. Centuries had passed, and yet he had never been able to
forget. How could he ever think he could let himself love like that again?

Mateo
waited for the birth of his first child on a sunny January day as the sun set
behind the nearby hills, sure God's blessing was to come any minute. Minutes
grew to hours and as the stars shone in the heavens, he raised his eyes in
prayer.

Just
then, the sweetest sound his ears had ever heard pierced the silence. His
child's cry, loud and strong, rang out through the heavy night air. Mateo stood
still as a stone, overcome by the beauty of such a simple sound.

His
child's cry.

As
his heart filled with the joy that they were now three, his feet led the way to
the cottage where his wife and the baby waited for him. He burst in through the
door and stared in awe at the wonder they'd created.

Eva
lay on the bed, the exhaustion from bringing their child into the world written
all over her face. Sitting next to her, he wiped the damp strands of hair that
stuck to the sides of her face away from her eyes.

"Mateo,
meet your son."

In
her arms lay the most perfect thing he'd ever laid eyes on. His son. Beautiful
like his mother, he had her features. Mateo tenderly ran his palm over the
child's cap of dark hair, impressed at how his entire head fit in his hand.

"He
is beautiful, Eva. Just like his mother."

A
village woman tapped him on the shoulder. "They need their rest. Your son
was a difficult birth."

"Eva,
sleep now. We have the rest of our lives with our son." Mateo pressed a
light kiss onto her lips and saw her smile. "I love you."

His
wife's face grew dark. "We must name him now, Mateo."

Looking
down at the angel in her arms, he smiled and spoke the only name that seemed
right. "Gabriel."

Eva
leaned down and kissed their son's head. "Gabriel, this is your father,
the finest, most honorable man in all the world."

Mateo
kissed her on the lips and the forehead. "And this is your mother, the
finest woman a man could ever hope to bless his side. Sleep now, my
angels."

As
he left them, he looked back, his heart full of joy. No man had ever been
happier at that moment, he was sure. His mind raced with plans for the future.
He would be the man he had always wanted to be. Sheep herding would be enough
for now, but Eva and Gabriel deserved more. Perhaps it was time to do as his
father had always hoped. Maybe the life of a merchant was not as bad as it had
seemed.

He
cast his eyes to heaven and silently thanked God for believing he was worthy of
two precious souls in his care.

But
it wasn't to be.

Sometime
during the night, those two souls so dear to him left the Earth. When Mateo awoke
to begin his day, the most important people in his life lay still, taken from
him. A sadness like he had never felt before settled into his heart as he
cradled them in his arms. For hours, his tears flowed as he mourned a loss he
could neither understand or accept.

The
woman who had been everything to him was gone, as was his son, who he had
barely begun to know. He was alone.

Days
turned to weeks, but he was unable to let go of them. The tiny cottage that had
been their deathbed became a tomb for him, cold and empty as the late winter
sun rose and set outside. Nothing mattered anymore.

But
the pain remained, his only companion for so long. It ruled him, made him a
slave to suffering. After a time, he thought of nothing else. Even continuing
on with life receded into the background of his mind, replaced by a desperation
so deep that nothing in his world could unseat it.

How
many times had he held a knife to his heart, wishing he could pierce it to
release the sadness it held so he would finally be free? How many prayers had
he spoken asking God for a reprieve from his lonely existence so rife with
misery and heard nothing in return?

Finally,
when the pain had become so much a part of him that he was nothing else, he
turned to the only place on Earth where he might find the solace to continue
living—a place where the pain of going on without them may be replaced by a
devotion of a different kind.

Chapter Eight

Terek
had no idea how long he'd sat reminiscing about a life he'd left behind
centuries ago. His body gave no sense that dawn had broken yet, but he felt
tired and worn out. It was how he always felt after thinking about his human
life. Hanging his head, he let out a sigh and closed his eyes.

He
heard Ilona return but never moved to acknowledge her presence. He'd had enough
sparring with her and his past for one night.

"Terek?"

She
stood next to him waiting for his response. He felt her stare focus on him, but
he didn't look up. "What?" He knew his tone showed his frustration
with her, but he didn't care.

"I'd
like to talk."

Talk
was the last thing he wanted to do. Opening his eyes, he turned to face her and
was surprised by a smile. Not a happy grin but a tiny smile that reached all
the way to her eyes.

"What
do you want to talk about, Ilona?"

Sitting
down next to him, she said quietly, "One of the ladies...well, she
suggested that I ask you about when you were made vampire."

Serena.
Only Serena would know to suggest Ilona ask him that. For all her
submissiveness, she understood so well what connected a sire with his vampire.

"What
would you like to know?"

Ilona
fidgeted with the ends of her shirt and then finally rested her hands in her
lap. Fixing her eyes on them, she said, "I don't know how to be this
person."

"You're
not a person anymore. You're so much more. You're vampire."

She
closed her eyes and made a face that made him wonder if she'd begin to cry.
"I don't know how to be that either."

"That?
You can't even say the word. How do you expect to be something you won't admit
to? Vampire. Say it."

Ilona's
mouth turned down in a grimace. "Vampire."

"If
you can't accept what you are, you'll never be happy."

She
sat silently, eyes closed, and Terek saw the misery in her face. He didn't wish
that for her, no matter how he felt.

Gently,
he touched her jaw. "Look at me." When she didn't move, he forced her
to face him. Her dark eyes stared up at him and a mixture of anger and sadness
reflected in them.

"I'm
your sire. Whatever you need, I provide. Tell me what you need."

"I
don't want to hate what I am. I don't. But every time I think about what I
lost..."

"Tell
me what you need, Ilona."

Lowering
her head, she whispered, "I don't know what I need. I don't know how to be
a vampire, your vampire. Do I call you sire or Terek? Will I ever stop missing
the people I loved so much that I don't want to go to sleep and never wake up?
Can you help me understand why I crave even the tiniest touch from you at the
same time I feel such anger at what you did to me?"

The
anguish in her voice cut right through him. Never before had one of his
vampires said anything like what she'd just said. Never before had any of them
been so unhappy to be his vampire. He had a responsibility to give her what she
needed, but what if he couldn't do that? What if he couldn't make her happy?

Lifting
her chin, he looked into her eyes and smiled. "Let's start with the easy
question. Call me Terek. You don't seem like the type of woman who'd call
anyone sire. That's fine. It doesn't matter what you call me. I'm your sire. I
will always be."

Ilona
sighed. "Terek, I don't seem to be like any of your other vampires."

She
was right.

"I
have thousands of vampires, Ilona. You've just seen the ones who live
here."

"Are
they all women?"

Shaking
his head, he laughed. "No. Not all of them. Does that matter?"

He
saw it did matter by the way her bottom lip quivered ever so slightly.
"Ilona, what's wrong?"

She
closed her eyes and turned away so he couldn't see her face. "I've never
been like this. I don't know what's wrong with me. I barely know you and my
head tells me I have every reason to hate you. I know this. But I'm consumed by
jealousy at the thought of you with these women and thousands I haven't even
met."

Terek
stared silently at her, unsure of what to say. It was perfectly natural she
would be attracted to him. Vampires were sensual beings, and the pull of a sire
to a vampire was common. Everything she was experiencing was exactly as it
should be.

Before
he could tell her this, she turned toward him. "I don't want to feel this
way toward someone who doesn't feel anything for me."

The
shame in her voice bothered him. Why did she think he felt nothing for her?

"I
care about you as I care for all my vampires."

That
wasn't exactly the truth. In fact, he cared much more for her after only such a
short time.

"Chattel.
Or worse, as a plaything. Somehow you've made me care for you, and I'm simply
the latest addition to your collection."

"Ilona,
you're not a plaything or part of a collection. I didn't choose to sire you.
You were dying because of another vampire's choice and begged me to save
you."

"Even
worse then. I'm a mistake you're saddled with."

Terek
winced at the pain of her words.
Mistake.
She believed she was unwanted
and unloved. She had no idea the effect she had on him and how much he
struggled against the growing feelings for her inside him.

He
let his desire control him and leaned toward her, taking her in his arms. A
need to feel her mouth yielding to his overtook him, and he kissed her hard,
needing her to understand how much he wanted her.

But
she didn't yield. Instead, she met his desire with her own, snaking her tongue
past his lips to tease the tip of his tongue. Such a common act he'd
experienced countless times before with women now excited him more than he
could believe, and his cock sprang to life, pressing hard against his hipbone.

She
tasted like some exotic fruit Jasmine seldom found at the market—a treat he
rarely got to enjoy but relished so much more when he could. She clung to him
by the neck as she pressed her body to his, leaving him in no doubt as to what
she wanted.

He
wanted it too.

"Ilona..."
He stopped, unsure what he'd wanted to say as she slid her hand down the front
of his pants.

Looking
at him, her eyes wide, she said, "No, don't say anything. I need this. I
don't want to think about who you are with the others. Even if you have to
pretend, then pretend. Just let me have something about being a vampire that
brings me happiness."

Her
hand felt like silk as she slid it up and down his stiff cock, grazing the tip
just enough to make his hips come up off the bed. His mind was nowhere else but
right there with her.

Groaning
his desire for more, he tugged a fistful of hair, pulling her head so she
looked into his eyes. "No pretending."

He
made quick work of her pants and cupping his hand over her panties, felt how
wet she was beneath them. One finger then two slipped under the damp cotton,
and his cock jumped in her hand at the first touch of his fingers on her
dripping wet pussy.

Her
juices coated his fingers as he slid through her moist folds to the sensitive
nub already swollen with desire. A tiny flick with his fingertip elicited a
moan so needy he worried she might come before he did anything. Quickly, he
moved his hand away to rid himself of his clothes. One wave of his hand left
him naked next to her.

He
nearly tore her panties from her body, wanting that slick cunt uncovered and
open for him. Ilona panted softly as he thrust two fingers inside her.
"Terek, I don't want fingers. Give me what I want."

He'd
barely slid out of her before she climbed on top of him, straddling his hips.
In seconds, his cock was buried to the hilt in her drenched channel and wild
eyes full of longing were staring into his.