Authors: Nicole Grane
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“Now I don’t make a habit of listening to other people’s conversations,” she shot Charlotte a stern look, “but I was passing the library just now and heard Mr. Marcus arguing with Mr. Raymose.”
My fork fell out of my hand and landed with a clatter on my plate. “Sorry.”
“It’s alright dear. Arguing? That doesn’t sound like the two of them?” Charlotte continued. She spoke like she was talking about two little boys, not two grown men—vampires at that! She poured a cup of tea and sat down beside me, eager for any bit of gossip to break up the monotony.
“Well,” Sarah began. “Earlier, I was in the entry dusting the drapes like I do . . . when I heard a loud crash in the library. Naturally, I rushed in to see what had happened, when I saw Mr. Marcus standing over some broken glass.”
“Broken glass?” Charlotte gasped.
“Yes, that reminds me, I need to call a window repair man. Apparently Mr. Marcus was shutting the window, and it fell right off the hinges!”
“Lord, he’s lucky he wasn’t hurt.” Charlotte put her hand over her heart in relief.
“What were they arguing about?” I asked subtly, trying to move the conversation along.
“You, Miss.” Sarah smiled angelically.
“Me?”
“Apparently, Mr. Marcus had been watching you and Mr. Raymose through the window before it broke.” Sarah’s eyebrows rose slightly, possibly not buying Marcus’s “window story.” “He accused Mr. Raymose of training too roughly with you. Then, Mr. Raymose said you’re doing just fine, and something about you being able to handle it before?” Sarah was extremely animated when she told a story. Thankfully, she didn’t linger too long on any one thing; it might pose more questions than answers for her. Her eyes were wide and full of concern as she repeated her version of the argument.
“The most unusual thing happened next,” Sarah continued. “Mr. Marcus . . . sort of . . . hissed?” A look of confusion swept across her face.
“Hissed?” Charlotte was hanging on every word.
“It sounded like a hiss? I only heard it through the door, but it was very strange. He said Miss. Phoebe is not the same as she once was, and that he better not find her bleeding in the garden.” Sarah raised her eyebrows again. This was just the type of juicy conversation she could sink her teeth into.
“Mr. Raymose said he’d never hurt her, and that Mr. Marcus knows that . . .” She added the last bit under her breath. Her mind was clearly elsewhere now, her wheels turning in an entirely different direction than before.
“Ah Sarah, men are always arguing about what they think is safe for a woman to do, especially when they’re both in love with her.” Charlotte shot me a sideways glance.
My mouth gaped open a little.
“They don’t understand that we’re strong, and independent!” She continued, raising her fist in the air, “Especially when we’ve been on our own for so long.” She glanced my way again giving me an understanding smile. “It’s plain to see that Mr. Raymose wouldn’t put up such an argument if he wasn’t smitten.”
I could feel my face blushing. “Thank you for dinner. Charlotte, Sarah, if you’ll excuse me.”
I literally ran into Raymose at the stairs in my attempt to escape the questioning faces in the kitchen.
“Where you off to in a hurry?” he said with a laugh.
“Sorry, to my room. I have to call a few people back home before it gets too late. I’ve been neglecting my business responsibilities far too long.” It was the truth.
“Tomorrow then,” he winked, brushing my chin with his finger before he turned and walked out the door.
I ran up to my room, grabbed my cell phone, and dialed Leah’s number first.
“Leah—” was all I could say for quite awhile. She had disguised her worry with anger and wasn’t going to let me off the hook easily for neglecting to call her.
“I’m sorry, time just slipped by,” I explained.
Apparently, Kim didn’t have any new pieces to deliver, and the stores were running low.
“Leah, calm down. There’s a box in my office that has enough pieces for you to distribute.” I could just see her snapping a pencil in half. That was valuable need-to-know information I should have shared with her.
“Yes, I’m going to be here a while longer. Just box up my supplies and send them. I’ll have some new pieces for you in a few weeks. ”
I paused and took a breath. “He’s asked me to marry him.” I was all a glow. “I know it seems sudden . . .” I tried to interject before she started in on me—I was too late.
“Yes I’m sure. Leah, he’s wonderful. I’ve been waiting for him all my life,” I admitted freely. “Of course I’m going to keep designing.”
After what seemed like forever, Leah congratulated me. Then she ordered me to phone Kim with the good news, and text my address so she could send the aforementioned supplies.
Kim was excited. She said she still had a few pieces and Leah was just freaking out because she hadn’t heard from me for nearly two weeks.
Had it been that long? Time really did go quickly in this place. I took a deep breath and sighed. I closed my phone and fell back on the bed.
There was a soft knock on the door.
“Come in,” I said, not bothering to get up. It had been a
long
day.
“The doctor is downstairs. Shall I send him up?” Marcus asked as he entered the room. He took one look at me relaxed on the bed and jumped to the wrong conclusion. “You’re hurt!”
“What? No! I’m just resting, or was. Oh!” I jumped off the bed quickly, checking the quilt to make sure I hadn’t gotten it dirty. “Sorry, I forgot I was so filthy. I think the bed’s fine.” I checked it over once again, swiping my hand over the fabric, feeling for any dirt that may have rubbed off.
“I don’t care about the bed,” he nearly growled.
“Marcus it’s nothing.” I waved him off. “I dove to block Raymose’s sword, and he missed me completely!”
I went over to my closet and took out a clean pair of jeans. I started to change when I noticed my thigh. I could see Marcus staring at it out the corner of my eye. He looked livid, but said nothing. I pulled my jeans on quick, hiding the beginnings of a wicked bruise.
“We better not keep the doctor waiting,” I urged.
He left the room without another word.
Dr. Andersen was a pleasant man. He looked to be in his forties, had dark hair that was starting to grey, and was average in height. He didn’t have any particularly striking features, but his smile was warm, and I felt comfortable with him at once.
I didn’t take up much of his time. I got straight to the point, and with Marcus being whom he was, Dr. Anderson was willing to fill my request discreetly, without too many prying questions, or having to examine me—a formality I was hoping to avoid. I didn’t want the doctor to witness the changes in my body due to Damen’s bite.
He hadn’t left my room for more than two minutes before Marcus was back to check on me.
“Is everything alright?” he looked extremely anxious.
“Everything is fine. He’ll deliver what I need sometime tomorrow,” I said cheerfully.
“Wonderful, now all I have to worry about is you and Raymose playing with swords.”
“We’re not playing! And you might want to stop breaking windows unless you want the entire household getting suspicious of your
superhuman
strength.”
He sat down on the bed. The anger that once occupied his face was replaced with worry. “I have to leave tomorrow. We need to prepare our army.” Marcus's eyes met mine. He reached out and took my hand, pulling me down beside him.
“I’ll be fine.” I smiled, trying to sound as convincing as possible. “How long do you think you’ll be gone?”
He squeezed my hand. I could feel the tension in his body shifting to mine. “I’m not sure when I’ll be back . . . maybe a few weeks?”
“I understand. I’ll just have to keep myself busy.” I tried to sound upbeat.
“Raymose will be here to check on you daily. He still plans to assist you with your training,” he scoffed.
I felt a surge of excitement. That would help the time pass, and with Leah sending my supplies, I could work while Marcus was away.
“Well, try not to be gone too long. I’ll miss you terribly.”
He pulled my face to his. I could feel the tension in his lips as they meshed with mine. He couldn’t pull me close enough. His body shifted over mine, pushing me toward the bed. “I can’t bear to be away from you,” he breathed. His eyes, darkening to a deep red, met mine.
I suddenly realized what he was telling me. Why he looked so worried. He was leaving to plan an attack on the werewolves—they were going to war. There would be hundreds of them—werewolves and vampires both—killing each other. Marcus would be fighting. He may not come back. A reality he’d faced. But I hadn’t.
I gripped his shoulders, my fingers digging in, my lips recklessly crashing into his.
“Careful, my love,” Marcus warned. “You might get bit.” He tried to pull back.
I held him firmly to me, kissing him as if it were the last time, as if it were my last breath. I pulled him closer.
“Phoebe . . .” he tried to speak past my lips, attempting to untwine my arms—I wouldn’t let him. “Phoebe!” He broke free, breathing heavily. His eyes stared wearily into mine—he knew my mind. “Are you sure you want this?” he asked in a throaty voice. His hand moved up my side slowly, sending a violent shiver straight through me. His face still didn’t look convinced that this was a good idea.
“I need you,” I breathed. “We may never have another chance.” My lips took his again and again.
I don’t know how it happened, but I suddenly felt myself naked against his skin. His mouth moved over mine carefully despite my urgency. He pulled my body to his.
This was different. We held each other desperately. Time was a luxury we didn’t have, and I didn’t want to waste a minute of it with ‘should we or shouldn’t we’. I kissed his lips as often as I could, breathing in his scent, tasting it over and over in my mouth, trying to burn this memory into my mind for safe keeping. I had the strangest sensation that I was floating on air . . .
He moaned softly, working his lips slowly down my neck to the hollow of my throat. My head fell back—we were floating!
“Marcus!” I wrapped myself around his body, holding on for dear life.
He laughed, rolling himself under me.
“Marcus, the bed!” I panicked, holding on tighter still.
“I won’t let you fall,” he promised.
I didn’t relax until I felt the bed beneath me once again. The soft blankets around my body, and Marcus holding me, loving me, was all the comfort I needed. I held him as long as I could. The realization of him leaving had sunk in, and I couldn’t stop the tears that burned in my eyes.
“Have I hurt you?” Marcus was watching me.
“No. I . . . I just don’t want you to go.” The tears spilled over. “I’m afraid for you.”
“You’re afraid for me?” he joked.
“Of course I am,” I said offensively. I didn’t think this was a joking matter.
“I should only be gone a few weeks. You’ll have plenty to occupy yourself with.” He smiled, but it did not touch his eyes.
“I’ll be worried every minute you’re away,” I sniffed.
“You think I won’t be worried about you?” He tried to wipe the falling tears from my face.