Inescapable (Eternelles: The Beginning, Book 1) (4 page)

Yes, that was it. He was coming back into her life and there was nothing she could do to avoid it. He’d
made
her, after all. He had every right to stake his claim by the vampyre code, at any time he wanted.

She should consider herself lucky to have lived outside his radar for a century. But that luck was running out; she
knew
that on a subliminal level.

I’m coming for you, Sera.

These weren’t just words spoken in a dream. A fine thread of foreboding whisked up her back, rousing pinpricks of sensation on her skin.

She fought sleep with every deepening breath but was fast losing that battle. Then a strange sound flitted through her consciousness. One time. Short moments later, a second time. It felt like the reverberation of a high speed train going through a narrow tunnel—but muted, as if heard from a distance through a pair of fuzzy headphones. The first time, it lasted a few seconds, enough to stir her from someplace between the conscious and the unknown. The second time made her open her eyes wide.

Her lips went dry; her heart leapt in her chest. Someone had switched off the lights—only the blare of the TV screen immersed the space in subdued colors. She cocked her ears as she slowly sat up and placed her booted feet on the carpet as soundlessly as possible.

A breath…a footstep. A hiss, like that of a disturbed rattlesnake in the desert.

She wasn’t alone any more. And whoever was with her wasn’t of this earth. … The air carried menacing hints of smoke and decay that gave away the intruder.
Or intruders.

There was more than one.

Mom, what would you do? You taught me to fight, but can I handle this?

She sat up, careful not to knock her shin against the table. The dread inside her mounting, she moved to the side of the couch and turned to the doorway.

She didn’t just have company—the room was crowded. Six creatures stood in the space facing her—three tall, muscular bodies, big and strong like a double limestone wall, sporting large canines that warned of deadly consequences, and another two beings that hovered inches above the floor like a body-shaped mist.
Vampyres and ... what in God’s name were the others?

She swallowed hard, willing herself to stay calm. Could she take them on? Could she summon enough anger?

The mist started to shift and solidify as the creatures took bodily forms—their drawn faces and potboiler hollow eyes a cliché for evil entities in graphic horror books.

But even that sight paled in comparison to what—
who
—stood behind these five formidable figures. A man who’d taken her innocence—not physically, but in all other ways. A man she should have longed to see dead and buried forever.

The man who owned her, body and soul.

Rafe Harcourt, Vampyre Lord.

She froze; her first reaction any time danger closed in on her. Not something that happened often.

Her second reaction would be to run away, but she had nowhere to hide. Nowhere
he
’d let her go. She opened her mouth around his name but no sound came out. She did that on purpose; held it back because, despite his very real presence, she didn’t want to acknowledge him until he spoke to her.

“Séraphine, come with me. I’ll make sure you’ll be safe,” he simply said in that voice she recalled well while she’d disremembered William’s own earnest lilt. He’d been a man ignorant to deception and quick to command affection—yet, she’d let him go.

Guilt arrowed through her, sharp with a poisoned point, as though she was in some way betraying a fresh memory, and she was fit for killing.

“There is nowhere I want to go and certainly not with you,” she spat, mincing her words, while struggling to get her mind around what was happening.

How was she going to get out of this fix? Did they know her mother wasn’t here? In a sense, she felt flattered that Rafe felt they needed six people—no,
beasts
—to get her to do what he wanted. Maybe he did think her that strong.

The vampyres she could hold off, at least temporarily. The others…those were the real problem. Their shifting natures would make it difficult for her to lower their defenses, even for a little while until she managed to escape. And she definitely couldn’t leave this room in phoenix form. Burning for too long could only kill her. She might’ve lived for over a century but they didn’t know what unleashing her full phoenix powers could do to her....

Then there was Rafe. Did she have the power or authority to bring down her maker without harming herself in the process?

Would he go as far as to hurt her?

Maybe he would….

She stared at him, steeling herself against his intense gaze. He was looking at her in
that
way. The one that told her she was his, that he wanted her, and that what he wanted, he took. She swallowed again, this time to calm her racing pulse.

Oh no, don’t do this to me.

“You will cooperate.
Mia cara,
you have no choice in this. I’ll make sure you come to no harm,” he said, as if that would reassure her.

What his words did, though, in particular the unwanted endearment, was send her temper flying to the tropics. That was good, because with anger came courage. Something that was second nature to her mother, but not so much to her.

And the man needed someone to put him in his place—fast.

“Is that so?” she said, lifting an eyebrow and enjoying the jolt of energy her whirling emotions gave her. “I think you need to learn how to speak to a woman if you want to charm her into
obeying
you. When did you go to school, the Middle Ages?”

Come to think of it, he might be that old.

His lips curved on one side in a shadow of a smile. “If I touched you right now, you’d melt in my arms and beg me to take you.”

Her face burned with embarrassment. She chanced a surreptitious glance at the others in the room. They stared at her, but didn’t seem concerned with this conversation.

“That’s not true.” Her voice trembled a little.

“You know it is.”

She took refuge in her resentment.
Conceited prick.
“I know nothing of the sort. In fact, I hardly know much about you, except that you take pleasure in ruining people’s lives.”
And that you make my blood boil, not just with rage, but in other ways....

Even in the dimness, she could see sparks of barely contained desire in his whiskey eyes as the reflection of the moving pictures from the TV hit them. But she didn’t have to see them; she remembered that searing gaze with surprising clarity.

She forced her eyes downward and focused on the unique pendant hanging from a leather strap around his neck—a black oval onyx into which was set a red ruby pyramid and a yellow diamond above it. The silver setting and stones gleamed as he moved, the corded veins in his neck growing tauter. She looked back at his darkly beautiful face because she couldn’t help it.

Then she took comfort from touching her own charm—the pendant Adri had found around her neck when Sera came into her life, and one she wore every time she set foot out of
Shadow Bridge, her home. A tough shell made of seemingly indestructible material and with natural markings displaying a phoenix on fire. A fount of protection, perhaps—or simply a way to reassure herself of such. Not quite the average good luck charm, it looked as if made by nature to be more powerful and unique than the sacred shell of shells—
a baro seréskeri sharkûni—
so precious to the gypsy people.
Her
people. She briefly wrapped her fingers around it and squeezed, trying to draw from its strength.

He cocked his head slightly to the side and commanded her attention. How easy she made it for him to glimpse into her soul. Before he took too long a peek, she closed that door firmly in his face.

“You think me that ruthless? Perhaps I should show you that side of me….”

She bit her lip as a multitude of retorts vied for her attention. Which one should she pick? She slayed all of them, drowned them in that part of her she didn’t want to show him—because it would make her too vulnerable, too weak. It would show him how much his words hurt her. Didn’t he think he’d caused her enough damage for more than one lifetime?

“What do you want?” she finally asked.

“As I said, I want you to come with me. I want you not to question me.”

She grunted.

Keep saying silly shit like that, and you’ll see a part of me you don’t want to see, you arrogant ass.

How dare he speak so condescendingly to her? True, he had power over her vampyre nature, but there were other sides of her that were solely her own. He had no sovereignty there—and she’d make damn sure to keep it that way. Most importantly, he wasn’t about to march in here like a gorgeous, pompous god and boss her around.
No siree, Bob
, she thought scathingly, quoting old Jim, the elderly fae who maintained the lawn around her studio cottage.

“We can all dream,” she said sardonically, crossing her legs and studying her nails—as if an air of nonchalance would get him to leave her alone. All the while, she made a superhuman effort to ignore her clammy skin and the cold sweat that started to trickle down her nape to the tip of her spine.

Her outward reactions didn’t match how she felt, thank goodness. She barely believed how bold she sounded, yet it was only proof that this man brought out the worst in her. He left her no choice.

“I see you’re not taking me seriously.” He straightened his back and fisted his hands, rising to his full height.

A sight to behold. She knew that pose. She’d seen something of the sort whenever her mother got ready for a showdown, prepped to fight. As for Rafe, he was ready to truss her like a Thanksgiving turkey should it be necessary to get her out of here.

“And why do you want me to come with you? There must be a reason for this,” she asked, stalling for time—and genuinely interested in the answer.

Why me?

He didn’t respond. Something shone on his face for the briefest of moments—the mark of hesitation.

“Answer me,” she insisted.

Perhaps if she had him linger long enough, her mother would be back in time. She always was; she always knew.

“I see you can’t resist asking questions.” His jaw twitched, alerting her that he was fast losing patience. All hesitation or uncertainty was gone.

“My whole life is about asking questions. You should try that someday. It helps to know why things happen the way they do.”

He pursed his lips while his eyes shot arrows of exasperation. And now something else—the merest hint of pain, gone in a flash. His eyes darkened to a hue much like the onyx around his neck. Had she hit a nerve?

He took a few steps closer to her, his perfectly fitted black leather jacket moving with his muscles, and black jeans hugging his well-defined thighs, as though custom made. A biker’s wardrobe.
Did he ride?

He was dressed in black from head to toe—the color of his heart. Or of the hole where it should be.

She stood still, refusing to back off and let the fear show. In part to still the trembling, in part to ward him off like the evil eye, she crossed her arms.

He got even closer, too close. So much she could smell his musky cologne. His mussed, a touch long ebony hair was slightly damp and curling around his jacket collar; he must have just washed it.

Tamping down an insane desire to touch the wayward locks—and if she reached out, she almost could—she hugged herself tighter and tensed up.

But he wouldn’t let her look away; his eyes kept holding her prisoner.

He smiled, totally aware of her distress and relishing every bit of it. About three or four steps away, he started to pace the room, his hands linked behind his back. An imposing figure, broad, powerful. A formidable nemesis.

“Let’s consider what you just said,” he contemplated aloud as he turned and paced back. When he got in front of her, he gave her an unflinching look, churned with a hard glint and mock curiosity. “What would you mean by it, Sera? Questions like, why you feel more attracted to me than you ever felt to William? Why you want me like you never wanted him? These are good questions, no?”

She uncrossed her hands and met his gaze with her ire. “You….” …
selfish, selfish prick!
“You’re nothing to me… nothing!”

He gave a mirthless smile that never reached his eyes.  She’d hit him where it hurt, like a kick in the groin.

“Rotten, disgusting bloodsucker. You guys are worth your weight in garbage,” she let loose in a completely uncharacteristic way. Yes, he
did
bring the worst out of her.

At that, two of the vampyres lunged at her and grabbed her by the arms, while one of the other creatures seemed to glide in front of her, getting in between her and Rafe. The sight of it tugged at her memory box. Had she read something about certain mythical beings who looked like that? Beings that drained their victims of their very soul….

The monster’s lips curved in a wicked smile as he closed misty hands around her neck and started to morph into human shape.