Secret Worlds (223 page)

It would be so much easier to get the energy she needed if she had sex with someone. It would be so much more satisfying. Unfortunately, the thought of engaging with someone that way made her skin crawl. Michael had done a right good job of making her his. She was ruined. If he didn’t accept her this time, she knew she wouldn’t be able to revert back to her old ways. Something inside her had fundamentally changed. Her desires remained the same, but somehow she had tamed them to a greater will. Michael had destroyed her.

***

The streets of Istanbul bustled, but Amaia hardly noticed. She effortlessly siphoned energy from the mortals around her. They were faceless sources of sustenance. It was one more city in which to pass the time, far enough from Michael to keep any other vampires from finding him through her and close enough that she could be to him in less than a day if something should happen to his aura.

A familiar peace pulled her up short. A distinct change in energy. Familiar.

“Cho?” Amaia looked around for the source of the energy. It was silly to call out his name. Even if it was him, he would be called something else. “Cho?” Amaia spoke a little louder. Futility be damned.

A man ahead of her to the left turned his head. His skin was a darker shade of tan than Cho’s had been. His hair was longer and fell in loose waves.

“Cho?” Amaia approached him, pushing her way through the crowd.

The man met her gaze. His chocolate eyes swirled with warmth and love. The sunbaked skin around his eyes crinkled as he smiled. He bowed his head slowly, deliberately, and then turned and disappeared into the crowd.

Amaia could follow him, but it would be no use. She had what she needed. His acknowledgement, his peace, gave her hope. She didn’t know if he remembered her as Michael did, but he was the same man, full of compassion and understanding. He had sated her more than anyone else, even though she hadn’t taken any of his energy. For the first time in more than a decade, she felt a smile tugging at her lips.

***

The temptation to see him was great. Every fiber of her being reached out to him, but she had made a promise. Besides, she didn’t think she wanted to watch him if it turned out he didn’t want her. It would be too painful to know what he looked like in this life, to know what she couldn’t have. So even though Michael was in Italy, Amaia had made her way to France.

There wasn’t much time left anyway. Just a few more months. She could last until then. Except she didn’t know what to do to calm her nerves. Every day, they grew more strained. She could barely keep still. More than twenty years she’d waited. How would she ever make it through these last few months?

If there was ever a time she needed a friend, it was now. She yearned for Meg’s companionship and advice. She would be easy enough to find if Amaia searched. Meg’s energy was as familiar to her as her own. Over the years on her own, she had honed her ability to sense and track auras even further.

There had been multiple instances when Amaia had come close to Meg’s aura only to change course. It wasn’t wise to seek her out. What kind of friend could Amaia be to her? Her presence would only place Meg in danger. Amaia was wanted, a fugitive. If she went to Meg, she knew her friend would want to follow her, to help her. Amaia couldn’t allow it. Liam wouldn’t like it. She wouldn’t put her best friend in such an awkward position.

However, she could write to Meg. At least it would be something to do, a way to release her nervous energy for a little while.

Amaia went to a little shop in the nearest village. A bell tinkled over the door of the cozy general store as she entered. The tall, bald, bespectacled man behind the counter wore a jovial expression. He had a generous, abundant energy. He wouldn’t notice if Amaia took some of it.

“How may I help you, miss?”

“I wondered if you had some paper and a pen you could sell me.”

“Absolutely. How much paper would you be needing?”

“A few pages will suffice.”

“Very well.”

While the man gathered her items, she surveyed the shop. The merchandise was quite eclectic, a little bit of everything. There was even a small display of books. Amaia leafed through a few. “I might be interested in a book as well. Do you have any recommendations?”

“Well, that there
Frankenstein
has always been a favorite of mine.”

“I’ll take it then.”

“Excellent choice.”

Amaia met the shopkeeper at the counter with her book. She pulled out her purse and paid for her purchases with some money she had earned telling fortunes. It was the only honest way she knew to make a living aside from her old profession.

“Do you happen to know where a good boardinghouse might be?”

“Madame Martin’s just across the way is a safe bet. Clean and respectable.”

“Thank you. I shall inquire if they have any vacancies.”

Madame Martin’s was just as clean as the shopkeeper had made it out to be.

Amaia sat at the small writing desk in her room, staring at the blank piece of paper. How would she begin? It was foolish. She didn’t even know how she would get a letter to Meg. What should she say? Maybe it was a bad idea.

Abandoning the writing project for now, she sat on the bed with her book. She had intended it to be a gift for Meg, but she supposed her friend wouldn’t mind her reading it first. Perhaps it would give her something to write about, if nothing else.

All through the night, she read. And as she read, she thought. A few chapters would pass, and then her mind would drift. She was like the monster in this book: a creature. Michael had remarked on the existence of a soul. If there was such a thing, could she be in possession of one? She was the result of Lawrence’s ambition. Yet he hadn’t been able to control her as he’d hoped.

Perhaps she, like the monster, should have demanded a companion from her creator. In a way, she had. He had never intended to give her one. His entire existence had been wrapped up in denying her that one simple pleasure.

When she finally closed the book, she felt more confused than ever. She couldn’t take the work on its mere entertainment value. Indeed, it hadn’t been entertaining at all. It had only provoked thoughts for which she had no answers. At least now she knew what she would write to Meg. She would simply tell her what had transpired in the years since their parting. There was nothing more she could say, other than to express her longing for her friend and her sincere hope that all was well with her.

The letter complete, she slid it inside the book. There was no sense staying any longer. She needed to find Meg.

Leaving the boardinghouse, she headed north toward Paris. It seemed the most logical place to begin her search. As she ran, she blocked out everything, letting her instincts guide her body. In her mind, she held the visualization of Meg’s energy. It gained strength as moved north, wavered as she went west, and intensified as she changed course to the east. Meg’s energy eventually led her to Avallon, a small village a few hours south of Paris.

Amaia couldn’t just walk up to Meg. That would defeat the purpose. She also disliked the idea of leaving the book and letter in Meg’s room. What if Meg wanted to send her a reply? There was one place where they had always met, and it wasn’t too far away.

Amaia went to Notre Dame. If she and Michael did end up together in this life, there was a good chance they would settle in Paris. There was no reason to believe they wouldn’t follow through with the plans they had made. If that were the case, then she and Meg could swap messages at their old meeting place. Amaia could keep her energy cloaked, so Meg would never be able to find her. It was somewhat risky, but Amaia needed a friend.

Outside the Portal of the Virgin, Amaia found a loose stone she and Meg had noticed once. When removed, there was a small hollow space, just big enough for a book. Amaia placed the letter and book inside and then replaced the stone. No one would be able to tell it was there unless they were looking for it. Her task complete, she returned to Avallon.

She rented a room across the street with a window overlooking the entrance to the boardinghouse where Meg and Liam were staying. It was so tempting to go to her best friend. Meg would welcome her back. They would talk, and Amaia would feel better just by virtue of having Meg understand.

She watched them exit the house. They looked good. Meg chatted away. Amaia touched her hand to the glass. She was so close, yet she knew she couldn’t endanger her friends by associating with them. It would only bring more heartache. Keeping in touch by letter would be much less painful. They didn’t carry anything, so they would most likely return. As soon as they turned down another street, Amaia departed. Her instincts told her to hurry, but she knew if she gave in to them, she would move faster than was natural for a human and draw attention. Instead, she forced herself to go slowly. She would have to figure out which room they occupied. One room smelled distinctly less of human than the others. It would have to be theirs, or at least it was the best guess. Amaia took a pin from her hair and proceeded to pick the lock.

Once the doorknob turned, Amaia entered the room and immediately knew she had made the right choice. There wasn’t much inside, but what was there was clearly Meg and Liam’s. Meg’s latest books were stacked near the bed, no doubt handy for that afterglow period following a session of lovemaking. On the nightstand sat miniature wooden figurines along with a carving knife and some scrapings. It appeared Liam was in the middle of crafting a flower.

There was no time to ponder these mementos of her friends. She didn’t know how long they would be out, and she didn’t want to risk being seen. She placed a note conspicuously in the middle of the bed. They wouldn’t be able to miss it.

Once she left their room, she knew she should leave town, but she couldn’t help wanting to see, or rather feel, Meg’s reaction. It was another six hours before Amaia saw Meg and Liam return. As soon as Meg entered the boardinghouse, Amaia turned away from her window. Once Meg found the note, she was likely to look for Amaia. Standing at the window would put her within Meg’s line of sight.

Amaia closed her eyes and focused on Meg’s energy. It was warm and comforting, like being wrapped in a familiar blanket. How had her life become so complicated? Everything in her told her that she should be across the street, laughing and chatting with Meg and Liam.

It didn’t take long for Meg’s aura to buzz. The corners of Amaia’s lips lifted. The excitement in Meg’s energy revitalized her, made her realize that she had been nothing more than a walking corpse these last years. The buzz came closer. Amaia clenched her fists to keep from turning to the window. She hoped Meg would go straight to Notre Dame as the note directed and not bother looking for her.

Once Meg’s energy was a distant hum, she retreated from the village. It was time to wait for a reply. She didn’t want to risk running into Meg, so she would check the hiding place in a fortnight. Wandering aimlessly, Amaia closed her eyes and relived the excitement of Meg’s energy. She pictured Meg and Liam’s room, imagined them in it, the air alive with their presence. When she opened her eyes, nothing but the stillness of night greeted her. She was alone.

Naples, December 1843

Receiving your letter was a shock. Liam’s impressed by how well you’ve obviously become at hiding your energy. We haven’t felt a vampire in quite some time. I’m just happy you’ve managed to escape Zenas.

On that note, it appears that he has indeed forgotten about you for the time being. I don’t know about Lawrence. I haven’t seen or heard from him since shortly after you left.

As for your problems, I ache for you, my dear friend. I wish I could see you now so I could help you, but I understand your reasons for staying away. I’m grateful, because as you know I would want to follow you, and even though Zenas appears to not hunt you anymore, I know Liam would not approve. My advice to you is this: you have a good heart, Amaia, whether or not you want to admit to it. Follow it. It will take you to where you need to be.

I’ll check back here often in hopes that you leave another note. Please, let me know how you are doing. I miss you daily.

Love,

Meg

Amaia clutched the letter to her chest. In her mind, she heard Meg speaking the words she had written. Her voice, the scrawl of her handwriting, her scent on the page, it all gave Amaia strength. She might be alone in body, but not in spirit. The support was heartening, and she’d reread the note frequently in the months since retrieving it.

She wished she could pen a reply, but there was nothing to say. The next chapter of her life was yet to be written. She couldn’t contact Meg again until she knew what would happen next. Soon, she would know whether her note would elicit celebration or comfort. Whichever outcome, she knew Meg would play the role of best friend perfectly, far better than Amaia ever had.

Less than a week remained until Michael’s birthday. If Amaia followed her heart, it would always take her to Michael. But was that the best choice? She knew the answer was no. Her presence did nothing but complicate Michael’s life. He deserved peace and long life, two things that she would never be able to give him.

But what would she do if he didn’t want her? Could she really just walk away, never see him again? No. As Meg had told her before, the thought of endless time without him was enough to drive her mad. She would have to keep watch over him. Liam’s words flitted through her mind. Michael was hers to protect. She would keep him safe, and if he ever needed her, she would be there. She could content herself with being in the shadows of his life, intervening only when Michael’s best interests were at risk.

In less than a week’s time, she would face judgment. She knew Michael thought his love was strong enough to withstand the trials of their life together. Even if he was right, and he chose to open the gates of heaven to her, she would still have to be strong enough to do what was best for him. Her resolve must be absolute. If he welcomed her into his life again, she must be prepared to do whatever it would take to give him the life he deserved. She would live up to his exalted opinion of her. And if he shunned her? Then she would have to find the courage to do all of that without him by her side.