Authors: Nicole Grane
“Marcus . . .” I sighed. “I hope I don’t let you down. I hope I’m truly the Phoebe you want to love.”
He leaned in and kissed my cheek softly. “You are,” he whispered across my ear.
The plane started to move, and I looked out the window as we taxied toward the runway.
“Lord Ashworth, we’re cleared for takeoff Sir,” Richard’s voice came over the intercom.
“You weren’t joking . . . Lord Ashworth.” I grinned at him.
Marcus looked as if he were blushing. He moved back to his seat and fastened his seatbelt. The plane made a smooth upward climb, and we were airborne in minutes.
I watched Marcus as he studied one of the notes Richard had given him. “Is anything wrong?” I asked.
“It’s from Raymose. Luther needs me back immediately. The werewolves have been growing in numbers far faster then we’d expected . . .”
“What does that mean?”
“It means that Damen has been very busy. He not only has time to torment you, but he’s also managed to form an army and create more werewolves.” Marcus crinkled the note in his hand and threw it angrily across the floor. He then pulled a ringing phone from his pocket and flipped it open. “Raymose! I’m sorry; I just received your messages.”
I stayed perfectly silent. There was something frightening about knowing Marcus was talking to another vampire—a real vampire, Raymose at that. This still seemed like a strange fanciful dream to me. My recollection of Raymose was sketchy at best.
“Please give my apologies to Luther. I’ve been . . . otherwise engaged.” He shot me a quick glance.
“Of course it’s important. Do you think I’d have left if it wasn’t important?” Marcus’s tone became sharp. I found myself recoiling painfully in my chair.
“No, I didn’t want to pull anyone else away . . . it was a quick decision. I wasn’t certain where Damen was heading . . . it’s just a hunch, but I believe he’s on his way back to England as we speak.”
I looked at Marcus incredulously. How could he know that?
“I’m in the air right now. I should be there in about thirteen hours,” he said as he glanced at his watch.
Thirteen hours? I whined mentally. How was I going to last that long? I slumped in my chair, then suppressed a cry. There was no way I could sit in this chair for thirteen hours.
“I’ll see you then.” Marcus snapped his phone shut and returned to his messages.
We had been in the air for nearly half an hour. I watched Marcus off and on as he stared blankly out the window. He had been so quiet since his phone call with Raymose; I didn’t quite know what to make of it. I decided to break the silence since
he
obviously wasn’t.
“Marcus, are you upset with me?”
“Why would you ask that?” He looked genuinely surprised by the question.
“You haven’t spoken a word to me since we took off. You’ve acted strangely since . . .” I almost hated to mention it. “Damen’s note.” I could feel the tension return almost instantaneously.
“I don’t seem to be able to keep him from finding you,” he admitted.
“Damen said that he and I are connected now . . . that he can track my scent.” I tried to casually sniff under my arm to see if I smelled.
“It’s not that kind of scent,” Marcus laughed.
I was turning red again; I could feel the heat of the blush on my cheeks.
“You are connected, but only because he bit you.”
My eyebrows furrowed.
“A werewolf never forgets the scent of the ones they change,” he explained. “They can usually smell each other within a mile. But not you . . . Damen has a stronger connection to you. He can track you from much further away. Not only that, but he knew you’d be on this plane with me.” Marcus growled in frustration. “I don’t know how he’s doing it. If he were following us, I would sense him.”
We sat in quiet for some time, watching the clouds out the window. The sun was shining through the heavens, and it was breathtaking. But all its beauty couldn’t lift the tension that was undoubtedly looming over us.
“Marcus?”
“Yes, my love?”
I kept my eyes to the window. I wasn’t sure I wanted to see his reaction to my next question.
“I’d just wondered if you’ve reconsidered . . . turning me?” My voice was softer than I’d intended.
“No. I told you. I don’t know what that would do to you. There’s never been—” he shook his head. “Not if there’s another way. I won’t chance it.”
“But what if there isn’t another way? What if Damen finds me and—”
“He won’t!”
“Marcus, I’ve thought about this. I don’t want to be like him. I’d rather be like you.”
“Phoebe . . .”
“What if I were dying and biting me was the only way to keep us together . . . would you do it then?”
He reached out and took my hands in his. “There is always another way . . .” he whispered as he leaned in and placed a kiss across my lips.
Ignoring the pain, I threw my arms around him. I didn’t want to let go. I didn’t share his view. There wasn’t always a way, and I couldn’t help but feel that my time with Marcus was ticking away. There was something in Damen’s note that left me believing my mortality was nearing an end. I could sense it.
“Darling, what is it?” He pulled gently away from me, staring at my torn expression.
“Marcus please—”
“Phoebe, this is ridiculous,” he nearly growled in frustration. “You’re not dying!” He removed my arms and sank back into his chair, not even wanting to look at me. “Don’t ask me to do this . . . I can’t turn you. If I didn’t stop drinking . . . I’d be the cause of your death.” He shook his head wearily. I knew he didn’t like to deny me, but in his mind, my request was beyond reason.
“I haven’t bit a human in so long; I’ve avoided the temptation. If I were to revert . . .” He looked like he was going to be sick. “Don’t ask me to damn your soul!”
“Damen already did that, didn’t he?” The words flew angrily from my lips.
Marcus's head dropped with a sigh.
“You’d let me die then . . . again.” It wasn’t a question.
His head snapped up. I could see the anger building in his eyes, but I couldn’t let this go.
“If I’m going to die anyway, wouldn’t you want to take a chance on saving me? Unless of course you don’t want to spend the rest of eternity with me.” Oh God . . . I hadn’t thought of that.
“You know I want to spend the rest of time with you,” he scolded me for doubting him. “But you wouldn’t be just a vampire. You’re
asking
me to turn you into the unknown.”
I turned away from him. Tears threatened to spill at any moment.
“Phoebe, you must understand—”
“I’m sorry I put you in this position,” I interrupted. “I know it’s not in your nature to love someone like me.”
Marcus caught my chin and turned my face back to his, his thumb gently wiping away a tear that had fallen. I could see his resolve break.
“Alright,” he said in defeat as he went down on one knee before me and bowed his head. “I swear to you . . . that I will move heaven, or hell for that matter, to keep you with me. Even if that means turning you into the unknown.”
I threw my arms around him.
“But only if there is no other way, Phoebe” he reiterated. “You have to literally be dying—”
I held onto him tighter still. The rest of his words lost. Nothing else mattered. I knew that if the worst were to happen to me, I’d always have Marcus. He’d find a way to save me—to keep us together—he’d never let me die.
With each passing hour, I felt more and more anxious about returning to England.
“Are you alright?” Marcus asked as he reached over and held my hand like he’d done so many times this flight.
“I was just thinking about the last time I traveled here . . . so much has happened since then.”
“I promise: no werewolf will bite you this time.”
“I’m not exactly worrying about the werewolves,” I muttered under my breath.
Marcus's forehead creased. “You’re worried about vampires.”
“Obviously.”
“You needn’t worry. My home is very secluded; I don’t have many visitors.”
“I thought you belonged to a coven?”
“I do, but I don’t reside with the coven. I still live in my family home. It’s more private. I’m only disturbed when the Moon Hunters desire to meet,” he explained.
“So other vampires
will
be there?”
“On occasion,” Marcus hesitated with his answer.
“You’re not worried they’ll . . .” I leaned in closer, “. . . smell me?” My voice was almost a whisper.
“Mmm. You do smell good,” he mused as he slowly moved his nose along the side of my cheek, inhaling deeply. I involuntarily shivered.
“You really could take me anytime you wanted . . . couldn’t you?” The thought was both terrifying and exciting at the same time.
“Mm hum,” he breathed into my hair.
His lips moved across my ear slowly. I could feel my heart beating faster and faster. I sat, nearly frozen in my chair. He had a certain power of rendering me helpless whenever he wished—a vampire thing no doubt—which Marcus used playfully to his advantage.
“Marcus,” I breathed, gripping his shoulders for support. “Aren’t you worried they’ll discover that I’m there?”
He paused momentarily. “There is no doubt in my mind they’d know you were there . . . if I let them get close enough.” I could hear the smile in his words. He kissed my neck softly.
I forced my mind to focus. “And the werewolves? Will they be close as well?”
“No.” His lips were on my ear now. “They do not trespass on my land.”
I sighed in relief.
“Do you honestly think I’m going to let any of them near you?” His eyes, a luscious shade of red, were staring into mine. “I wouldn’t put you in danger like that.”
I nodded in understanding.
He held my face in his hands now. “You see darling, there is nothing to worry about. I’ve already instructed Richard that if for some reason I do not return, he’s to bring you back to your home.” He kissed my lips briskly.
My heart stopped. “What?” I pulled back. “Where are you going?”
I could see the resolve in his eyes, and he could see the determination in mine. He began to look nervous.
“You will not put yourself in danger for me . . . never again,” he warned.
I knew his mind, instantly. “There’s going to be a battle. That’s what your note said—the one from Raymose, didn’t it?”
“There’s no need for you to concern yourself. You’ll be protected. No harm will come to you.” He rose from his seat and made his way toward the cockpit door.
“But what about you?” I called after him. “Marcus, I just got you back. I don’t want to lose you. If you’d only let me—”
“No, no, no! It’s completely unthinkable! You’re human!” he thundered.
I knew he spoke the truth, but there was something pulling me. I couldn’t let him risk his life to keep Damen from me. No. If it came to that, I’d leave. I would go to Damen myself if that meant sparing Marcus. I could live in misery, but I couldn’t live if Marcus was killed because of me. Damen knew this. He knew that I would put Marcus before myself. He was counting on it. That’s what he meant in his letter: “We’ll be together very soon”. I became aware of the hole Marcus's eyes were boring through me. I smiled meekly at him.
“NO! Whatever you’ve reasoned out in your head is out of the question!” His eyes were black as coal. He lifted me from my chair, gripping my arms tightly—there was no escape. “You will not
defy
me!” he hissed through his teeth. “Is this in any way unclear?”
I couldn’t look away; I was too scared. Never in my life had anyone spoken to me like this—I’d never have allowed it! But deep down I knew, Marcus had said this to frighten me into obeying him. He was trying to protect me—and I loved him for it. I would truly do what he asked, without question, as long as it didn’t mean sacrificing his life for mine. I knew that he would not let this go unless I gave him the answer he wanted . . . so I bent it just a little . . . in my favor . . . naturally.
“You are very clear Marcus, I understand.”
He released my shoulders.
I stepped back slowly to my seat, rubbing the circulation back into my arms. I took up the blanket that was waiting for me and sat down in my chair, fighting the urge to cry out in pain—my ribs were screaming!
Marcus watched me for a moment. His eyes, dark and untrusting, followed every movement I made. Without another word, he disappeared into the cockpit to relieve Richard.
Richard came out of the cockpit looking tired. He smiled warmly as he approached. “May I get you something from the kitchen, Miss?”
“No thank you, Richard, I ate a little while ago.”
I watched as he walked to the back of the plane to fix his dinner. He wasn’t gone long before my eyes closed and I drifted off to sleep.
I began dreaming of a lightly wooded countryside. The sky was dark and the air was moist. I ran as quickly as I could through the unfamiliar landscape. The moon, my only light, was peeking out from behind the clouds. A loud howling broke the silence . . .
I bounced in my seat—the plane was experiencing a little turbulence. I opened my eyes and saw Richard sleeping on a nearby chair. He opened his eyes as the plane continued to bounce around.
“I hope you don’t mind me sleeping here, Miss?” he asked when he saw me staring at him.
I blushed, having been caught watching him. “No, please, Richard go back to sleep.”
He looked at his watch and started to get up slowly.
“No. I better get back and relieve Lord Ashworth.” He covered his mouth quickly to conceal a yawn.
“But you haven’t had any sleep,” I protested.
“Oh, I’ve had a good seven hours Miss, I’ll be just fine.”
“Was I asleep that long?”
“Yes Miss,” His eyes glanced toward the cockpit. “You were . . . whimpering in your sleep.”
“Whimpering? People don’t whimper Richard, dogs do.” My mouth gaped open as I realized what I’d said. I glanced at Richard out the corner of my eye—he pretended not to notice.
“If you don’t mind me asking . . . are you alright, Miss?” I could hear the genuine concern in his voice.
“I’m fine. I’ve just had some trouble sleeping lately. I’m sorry if I disturbed you.”
“Forgive me, Miss. It was out of line to ask you such a personal question.” He rose and made his way to the cockpit. “But if you should need anything . . .” he added before he reached the door, “anything at all . . . please don’t hesitate to ask.” He bowed his head and ducked through the door.
I was trying to decode Richard’s cryptic message when Marcus came into the room.
“Richard said you were awake.” He hesitated for a moment, testing the air before he sat down beside me. He slowly reached his hand out, and began gently pushing my hair off my shoulder. “Did you sleep well?”
“I must have. I didn’t realize how long I’d slept.”
“Are you alright? Richard mentioned you had a restless sleep.”
“I’m fine. Really. You don’t need to worry.” I forced smile. “I think I’ll go fix myself up a bit.”
I got up slowly and went to an overhead compartment. I tried to reach for the handle but stopped mid way.
“What is it?”
“Nothing,” I said in a strained voice. “I tried to reach out once again—instant pain; so much for quick healing.
“Why didn’t you just ask for my help?” Marcus reached over my head, opened the compartment, and took down my overnight bag from home.
“I could have done that myself.” I snatched the bag out of his hands.
“I’ll just leave you to it then.” He put his hands out and backed away. “There. You can pick out what you’d like—
all
by yourself,” he mocked.
“That’s not what I meant.”
“I know what you meant,” he chuckled. “As much as I regret it, you’re still in pain.”
I folded my arms in a pout. I was still fuming at his closed minded opinion about me helping him.
“You can be such a child at times . . . it’s really quite amusing!” he laughed heartedly.
“I’m glad I amuse you. You’ll see; I’ll be better in no time. I won’t always be so helpless,” I growled, huffing past him.
Marcus grabbed my arm, halting me in my tracks. “Just what exactly do you mean by that?” He studied my face. “What is going on in that head of yours?” his eyes were growing dark again.
“What are you talking about?” I decided to play dumb.
“You know exactly what I’m talking about. You do remember what you promised before I left you to sleep?”
“Of course I do.” I looked him right in the eyes.
He watched me carefully for a moment then released my arm.
“I’ll be back in a bit,” I said quickly as I dashed for the bathroom to wash.
It felt good to get cleaned up. Unfortunately my bandages were starting to come loose. I knew it would have to be redone, and I knew I couldn’t do it myself. “Damn. I hate being so dependent,” I grumped out loud.
I finished my hair and makeup, brushed my teeth, and put on my jeans before I took a deep breath and reluctantly opened the bathroom door.
Marcus was sitting on a chair, reading the newspaper from yesterday. He looked up to see me standing in the doorway with one hand holding a hand towel across my chest, and a roll of gauze in the other. The expression on his face caused me to instantly blush.
“I was wondering if you could help me with this?”
“You’re asking for my help, Miss Independent?” he smirked.
I stared at him, pursing my lips as I tried to think of a real zinger—I had nothing.
He got up and walked over to me. His cool fingers brushed my hand as he took the gauze. His eyes met mine. There was a look of devotion; unlike I’d ever seen reflecting back at me. As if he was saying, I didn’t even need to ask. I gave him a small smile.
“This looks better,” he said encouragingly as he tilted his head, examining my arms.
“Yes . . . sort of.”
“What’s wrong?” He looked taken aback.
“Could we just get this over with please?”
Marcus followed me over to a chair and knelt down beside me.
“Are you sure you’re comfortable doing this?” I asked, once I’d sat down.
“I helped you yesterday. Why would it bother me anymore today?” he looked confused by the question.