Born Again (12 page)

“Packing? You’re leaving so soon?”

“Just for a little while. It was already scheduled. But we’re
coming right back, for you and I have so much to catch up on. Aric and Rafe are
downstairs.”

“Bye, Beau,” Sara said, kissing him soundly.

“Bye, love.”

“I’ll see him out.” Francesca smiled.

When Sara was gone she turned again to look at Beau, her smile
wiped from her face. “You won’t hurt her again?”

“Of course not.”

“I’m looking out for her.”

“Mind your own business.”

“She is my business, Beau. She was always my business.”

“I think I liked you better when you were human.”

Francesca blinked and the transformation was instantaneous. Her
lips reddened and her lashes were longer and fuller. She became a
femme
fatale
and she leaned forward, her breasts tauntingly close.

“You did. But I am no longer human.”

“And I am no longer interested.”

Francesca smiled. “Then you have no idea of what you’re
missing out on, wolf.”

Sara decided she’d head downtown and do some shopping. Raphael
and Francesca had left, Beau was at work and Aric was still resting. Or dead. She
was too new to the situation to know how they worded it, but she knew enough to
know he didn’t sleep.

She poked her head in the antique shop when she saw the
jewelry from the display window. Loads and loads of old, heavy jewelry. Some of
it was old gypsy designs, making her wonder what happened to the decrepit old
witch in the marketplace. Fingering an ancient brooch, Sara was startled when a
voice cackled nearby.

“Are ye ready yet, dearie?”

It was the same old woman. The one who disappeared
instantly, along with her tent. Alarm made Sara’s heart race, but curiosity
made her cock her head to listen.

“If yer ready to learn about the past, I can help ye.”

“How?” Sara asked warily.

“Ye find out where yer previous body was buried. It doesn’t
have to be exact, we won’t be digging ye up. We’ll just use the area to send ye
into a vision of the past and ye can relive the whole thing, not bits and
pieces. Ye’ll see the why of what happened and ye can make different decisions
now.”

“How will I find out where I was buried when I don’t even
know who I was?”

“Ask the Others,” the old woman said and her voice was eerie
the way she stressed others. “Call me when ye discover the whereabouts.”

“How will I call you?”

“The way ye did today, dearie.”

Sara blinked, wondering how the old crone knew she had thought
of her earlier and in that blink of an eye, the woman was gone again.

“Miss? Are you all right?”

“The woman I was talking to. Did you see her?”

The store manager looked puzzled. “You’ve been alone this
entire time.”

“No, there was an old woman.”

“There’s been no one else here but you.”

He was shaking his head emphatically, then took pity on her
when he noticed how distressed she appeared. “Come into my office. You can see
the videotapes of the store.”

She followed him and waited while he ejected a tape and
popped it into a monitor screen. The movements of the tape ran at fast-forward,
showing Sara quickly enter the store, casually pick up jewelry, study it,
return it and move on, repeating the same cycle until the store clerk
approached her.

Nowhere was there an old witch visit, or another client in
the store.

Sara left the shop without a single purchase, quickly
unlocking her car and sitting in it. Nervously, she dropped her keys twice
before getting them into the ignition.

She rested her head on the steering wheel, taking in deep
breaths.

Was the old woman real? Was she a witch? A figment of her
imagination? Why did she so desperately want Sara to find out her past?

Maybe she needed to research it, despite what Beau and Aric
thought. Maybe then she could stop herself from “psychically” calling for help.

But how would she go about it? Sara snapped her head up
quickly, a dark lock of red hair brushing over her cheek. She brushed it aside.

Okay, she only had to find her remains, the general vicinity
and the witch would train her to use her psychic abilities to relive her
lifetime so long ago. Or, the end of her lifetime, as the case may be.

She couldn’t ask Beau and Aric. They would turn all manly,
question her and demand that she stay away from the gypsy/witch without giving
her any answers at all.

She’d have to do it her way. She was a young resourceful
woman. She could figure this out. Aric still slept, so she revved up the engine
of her car and pulled from the parking lot.

Sara headed for the town library.

The building was in desperate need of remodeling. It was
dark and depressing, books lining every available space.

The carpet was old and the air was stale, the scent of musty
old paper hitting her senses. Wrinkling her nose in repugnance, she tried not
to breathe too deeply, afraid the pungent odor would permeate her every cell.

She stood, lost and looking around, trying to gather her
bearings as she pondered where to begin.

“May I help you?”

A thin, bookish man dressed in a beige nondescript cardigan
and slacks stood behind the main desk, thick round glasses perched on his nose.
He was balding and looked ten years older than the building itself.

“Genealogy research,” Sara said, her most charming smile
plastered on her face. “I don’t know where to begin.”

He nodded and came around the desk. “Downstairs, then.” He
grabbed a key on a ring and walked her around a corner to a small hallway. At
the end of the hallway was a door revealing a narrow flight of stairs. The
naked light bulb hanging in the hallway was yellowed with filth and barely any
useable light emanated from it through the dank halls.

“Watch your step,” he muttered and Sara briefly wondered how
to do that.

At the bottom of the stairs, he unlocked the door to another
room. Heavy old wooden tables were in the center and thick, large books the
size of encyclopedias were shelved along the walls.

“Who are you researching?”

Truth be known, Sara had no idea. But when confronted with
such a simple direct question, her psychic mind reeled in thought as she stared
blankly at him.

“A nun,” she said suddenly and had no idea why. Oh, well, it
was a starting point and once she was started, the librarian would leave her to
it.

“Church records, then. Over here.” He motioned. “I’ll be
upstairs if you need anything else.”

Sara nodded, distracted. Her mind was already on the
records.

An hour later, Sara found what she was looking for. There
was even a description of the woman and oddly, it also described her.

It had to be her. Seraphina Samorra, pledged to the church. A
nun.

Could she have been a nun? She’d heard Beau and Aric refer
to her as Seraphina, even though her name was Sara now. She hadn’t thought a
whole lot about it and wondered at how stupid she could be.

It was similar enough to forget and slip into the past,
calling her Seraphina as though that were her full name now.

Perhaps her brain refused to see what was in front of it? Perhaps
that safeguard was there for a reason? It would be too easy to decipher a
previous existence if people’s brains allowed them to see the patterns.

Sara nearly slapped her forehead. The nickname Serra wasn’t
from a heavy accent, it was short for Seraphina.

She read on. Seraphina was controversial. She wanted the
church to allow nuns to marry. Besides that, it appeared the biggest scandal
was after her death. The priest’s refusal to allow her to be buried on church
grounds.

Why would that cause a controversy? Sara flipped to the next
page. Her name was not listed as being buried where she had lived. The church
grounds, where every other nun at that time had been laid to rest.

Dead end. She would never be able to locate her remains and
use them to recall her previous existence. If she wasn’t buried on church
grounds as she should have been, where could she be? And why would the priest
refuse it?

She saw another book that lay forgotten on the corner of the
huge table. Genealogy research, a basic how-to. Her mind racing wildly, she
flipped blindly through the pages.

Then she inhaled deeply, almost unconsciously. Her head
rolled back and the center of her midsection, the sensitive psychic area,
sensed a page.

She indexed down to church records. Flipping open to the
page, she trailed her finger down the words to find something to catch her eye
regarding burials.

Church refusals.

A person may be refused a church burial for the following
reasons:

Suicide.

Bingo. That was it.

And that was what Mike was trying to trick her into again. She
wouldn’t have broken the cycle at all. She would have perpetuated it.

There was too much air in her lungs and she exhaled it
shakily. Deep down she knew, sure as the day was long.

She’d taken her own life.

Sara sat and stared at the massive, ancient books before
her, not really seeing.

Eventually the librarian made his way to her, the round
bookish glasses slipping even further on his nose.

“Is there anything I can help with? We’re about to close up.”

Sara was snapped out of her reverie. “No, I’m done. Thank
you.”

The books were returned to the shelves and she stood,
suddenly feeling extremely tired and very old. As old as Beau, Aric, Raphael
and Francesca.

She wanted to confide in Francesca. Of course, Francesca
knew what happened, but Sara wanted to tell her that she’d just found out for
herself. She wanted her best friend. Not a lover, just her friend.

God, please let her not be Seraphina Samorra, the woman from
her dreams. Panicked, she thought again of confiding in Francesca.

That was a good sign, she thought, amazed. They were truly
on their way to being best friends again.

Too bad her best friend lived in Romania.

By the time she arrived home, Sara had taken control of her
situation. So what if Francesca lived in another country? She was her best
friend, wasn’t she? Hell, she’d call her. Why not?

She placed the international cell phone call and was
startled at the shot of warmth that hit her when Francesca’s voice murmured
hello. Just as she remembered, sexy and sultry and for her, comforting.

“It’s Sara.”

“Serra! It’s so good to hear from you, I miss you already! We
simply must get you here for a visit, no?”

“I’d love to come. You know I would.”

“And Rafael would be thrilled to see you again, I know,” she
said slyly. “He talks of you all the time.”

“I wouldn’t mind. He’s well within the acceptable size
requirements. And I have high standards.”

Francesca barked with laughter. Sara giggled also and
realized they shared an actual girl moment.

“He’s also very talented with his tongue,” Francesca said.

“As are you,” Sara shared.

“Don’t make me miss you more. My heart can’t take it, Serra.
Now, what can I do for you?”

“I have some questions about my previous existence.”

There was silence on the other end and Sara took a breath
before delving into it.

“Was I Seraphina Samorra?”

The hesitation was enormous and Sara nervously swallowed as
she waited for the response.

“Yes.”

One word. A simple answer and it changed her life forever. It
wasn’t another woman’s life that she dreamed of, it was definitely her own. Shock
held her still, as if she might explode from the sudden knowledge. Still, she
plunged ahead with her questions.

“I was not allowed to be buried on church grounds?”

“No.” Francesca’s voice had become wary.

“Was it because I killed myself?”

Francesca sucked in her breath. “How did you know, Sara? My
God, it was such a nightmare I didn’t think I’d ever wake from it. My best
friend…and I let you down.” Her voice was agitated.

“Ssh, you didn’t let me down. I chose to, remember?”

“If it’s any consolation, Aric has obviously learned to
share since then. Although, he and Beau still have issues.”

“Issues they’re about to resolve shortly.” Sara’s voice was
short.

“You are angry with them?”

“Furious. What would have happened had I not figured this
out?”

“Sara love, Aric thought he was rescuing you from yourself
by not telling you of your suicide. He let you believe your death was
accidental.”

“Yes, with disastrous consequences. I delve into past lives
for a living, Chessie. I know a human life is meant to be reincarnated over and
over so we can learn from previous mistakes. The one rule is you don’t
terminate your life prematurely, for how do you learn by giving up? I was given
this life only to correct the wrong I willingly made. And that’s it. I have
none left.”

The horror of the situation seemed to hit Francesca. She
sucked in her breath before she said, “Ohmigod. But you’re mortal. If you were
to get hit by a bus tomorrow…”

“Exactly. I’m done.”

“Sara, I know it’s a huge issue, but you have to let Aric
turn you! No matter what the consequences with Beau.”

“How would you feel about Beau turning me werewolf instead?”

There was silence from the other end of the phone.

“That’s what I thought.”

“I’m sorry. It’s just hard, I’m sure we’d get used to either
decision you made.”

“It just brings me right back to choosing. Always, it forces
me to choose.”

“A human servant, then. You would retain your humanity, but
attain immortality.”

“Still a choice over Beau. He would consider it as me
choosing Aric over him. Think about it, I’m tying myself to Aric for eternity. How
long would it be before he commands me, as my master, to drop Beau?”

Francesca was quiet and Sara knew her words hit home. Utter
hopelessness hit the phone line, as each woman sat silent for the longest time.

“I got it,” Sara said finally. “I know the answer.”

* * * * *

“What will ye do?” asked the voice.

Sara whirled, her heart racing. “Geez, how do you keep
popping up and disappearing instantly?”

The witch shrugged. “’Tis talent, I guess.”

“I’ve found out who I was.”

“Yes, Seraphina, I knew ye would.”

“You knew?”

The old woman nodded.

“What is your name?” Sara asked.

“Gwynneth. But it doesn’t matter. There is one more thing to
resolve.”

“What?”

“While your vampire has come to grips with sharing on yer
terms, yer wolf will not. Not until ye make him realize that vampires are not
the enemy.”

“How in the world can I do that?”

“He was friends with yer best friend Francesca. He has
avoided her since she became undead. Perhaps ye can get him to accept her once
more, now in her changed conditions.”