Madly & the Jackal (20 page)

As the sun bathed the still-quiet campus in early morning light, Jackson carried me all the way back to our dorm.  I saw Clary and Gere.  They’d no doubt gone back the way they’d come and gotten Jackson.

Gere opened the front door for us.  I expected to see anger in his eyes, but there was nothing.  He was a stoic Sentinel through and through. 

After quietly issuing instructions for Clary and Gere to send medical staff to the football field to collect Dustin and Nadia, Jackson unlocked the door to his room and carried me inside.  Gently, he laid me on his bed and sat beside me.  He said nothing as he rhythmically brushed his hand over my hair, staring down into my eyes.  I’d missed the pale blue pools that could so easily whisk me away to a better place.

“Why did you come for me?” I finally asked when I could no longer tolerate the suspense.

“I will always come for you, Madly.”

“But you’ve been so different lately. I thought…”

“I know and I’m sorry.”

“What happened?”

“They did something to me.  I don’t know exactly what.  In a way, it was like being in a fog.  It’s like they tampered with parts of my memory, but only the feelings part.  I could remember that you and I had a relationship, remember the things we’d done and the time we’d spent together, but the feelings were…muddled.  I knew I was supposed to be drawn to Nadia, but at the same time, something inside me couldn’t get you out of my mind, out of my heart.”

“Well, it seemed that you did a bang up job with that,” I snipped, unable to keep the bitterness from my tone.

“I knew when I woke up something was different, that something had been done to us.  That’s why I went along with it.  I mean, I did feel a little different, but it was very superficial.  Deep down, I knew it wasn’t real.  I never stopped feeling you, Madly.  Never.”

“But you were so cold.” It still hurt to remember the way he’d acted, the way he’d treated me after we’d shared so much.

“I had to be, Madly.  I knew I wasn’t supposed to have feelings for you, so I fought them.  That’s why I wore the glasses. I knew if you or anyone else could see my eyes, it would be obvious that I had feelings for you.  Still,” he added and then, more softly, “always.”

I gulped, trying to swallow the lump in my throat the mere thought of my next question brought about.  “Did you and Nadia…um…”

“No!  Of course not!  How could you even think that?”

I shrugged. “Well, you seemed awfully attentive to her, attracted to her.”

“I told you I felt like I was supposed to be. I had to see why I had the sudden change of heart.  I’ve never been attracted to anyone else like I am to you.  I’ve never felt about anyone else the way I feel about you.  Can’t you see that?”

“It was…it was just hard. It hurt to see you…to see you…”

I bit my lip, doing my best to hold back hysterical tears.

“And I’m so sorry about that.  I never meant to hurt you.  You know this was supernatural, right?”

I nodded, staring at his throat until I was able to meet his eyes again.

“Madly,” he said, hooking a finger beneath my chin and tugging until I looked him in the eye.  “Even the powerful magic of the Lore couldn’t take away the love I have for you.  It may have confused me or obscured truths for a while, but nothing can change the way I feel about you.  Nothing!  Why do you think I left you roses?”

“That was you?”

“Of course it was me.”

“I wondered about that.  But that first day, you acted…you were so…It seemed like you’d never seen it.”

“I knew I wasn’t supposed to have feelings for you, but I couldn’t help it.  And to see you so sad… I just wanted to see you smile.  To make you happy.  Like I want to now.”

I tried to smile for him, but I knew I failed miserably.

“So what happened that you decided you could have feelings for me again?”

Jackson’s lips tilted in a crooked smile.  “It started with my dream last night.  I guess whatever they did worked on my conscious mind, because when I fell asleep, all I dreamed about was you.  Feeling your skin, feeling you close to me, looking down into your face…  It was like slowly breaking through an invisible barrier.  Then this morning, I could feel your…distress even before Clary and Gere found me. I was on my way to search for you when I saw them coming out the boiler room door.”

I tried to feel encouraged by his explanation, but I guess some hurts just run too deep.

“You still don’t believe me,” he said, dead pan.

“I do, I just…”

Jackson cupped my face, his expression serious, his eyes urgent.  “I love you, Madly.  You are my wife, my mate, my entire world.  Can’t you
feel
that?  Can’t you forget what has happened the last couple days and just feel that I love you, that I can’t live without you?  Without your love?  Please tell me it’s not too late.”

I watched him, no words coming readily to my lips.  What was wrong with me?  This was what I wanted, right?

“Please,” he whispered, leaning his forehead against mine, his thumbs stroking my cheeks.  “I love you, Madly.  Only you.  Always.”

“What are we going to do about Jessup?” I asked quietly, completely at a loss and not knowing why.

Jackson leaned back to look at me.  “I don’t care about him, Madly. I don’t care about anything but you.  I just want to make things right between us, like they were.  Don’t you feel anything for me anymore?”

His voice was getting louder, almost as though he was angry.  His hands had slid to my upper arms and were gripping me tightly, almost shaking me.

“Can’t you feel
us
anymore?”

And then he crushed his mouth to mine. 

At first, I didn’t feel anything, which was strange considering everything I’d felt in the previous three days.  But Jackson was not one to give up.  On anything.

Raising his hand, he cupped the back of my head and tilted his face to deepen the kiss.  When my lips parted, he slid his warm tongue into my mouth.

Rather than the instant inferno I usually experienced at his hands, I felt a warmth slither down my spine and tingle in my stomach.  It was pleasant.  Very pleasant.  Pushing my fingers into his hair, I pulled him toward me. 

With an angry intensity, Jackson seemed determined to make me feel again.  And it was working.

As his tongue tangled with mine, stirring heat deep inside me, his hands worked their magic on my body, skimming up my legs and beneath my skirt to start a fire in my core. 

Burning away my doubts and the coolness that seemed to have invested my soul, I let Jackson’s love and ardor carry me away to a place where nothing mattered but him and me.

I slipped my hands between us to work his button and zipper loose.  Then Jackson was tearing my panties away with one quick jerk and driving his body into my own.

He made love to me with a fury I hadn’t felt in him before.  There was love, sweet and tender, at its heart, but there was desperation, too.  I felt like we were both desperate to get back to the way things were, the way things used to be.

As we climbed toward the pinnacle of pleasure, I felt a strong wind, blowing across my cheeks, tossing my hair, chilling the skin of my exposed thighs.  With Jackson’s lips on my neck, I opened my eyes and saw papers and clothes flying through the room.  It was like a tempest had been set loose within the tiny concrete square.

And I wondered about the changes in me.  And what they could mean.

TO BE CONTINUED IN BOOK 4

A FINAL WORD

A few times in life, I’ve found myself in a position of such love and gratitude that saying THANK YOU seems trite, like it’s just not enough.  That is the position that I find myself in now when it comes to you, my readers.  You are the sole reason that my dream of being a writer has come true.  I knew that it would be gratifying and wonderful to finally have a job that I loved so much, but I had no idea that it would be outweighed and outshined by the unimaginable pleasure that I get from hearing that you love my work, that it’s touched you in some way or that your life seems a little bit better for having read it.  So it is from the depths of my soul, from the very bottom of my heart that I say I simply cannot THANK YOU enough.  I’ve added this note to all my stories with the link to a blog post that I really hope you’ll take a minute to read.  It is a true and sincere expression of my humble appreciation.  I love each and every one of you and you’ll never know what your many encouraging posts, comments and e-mails have meant to me. 

http://mleightonbooks.blogspot.com/2011/06/when-thanks-is-not-enough.html

Other books by M. Leighton

Beginnings: An M. Leighton Anthology

Blood Like Poison: For the Love of a Vampire

Blood Like Poison: Destined for a Vampire

Blood Like Poison: To Kill an Angel

Caterpillar

Fragile

Gravity

Madly

Madly & Wolfhardt

The Reaping

The Reckoning

Wiccan

Follow me

Blog: 
http://mleightonbooks.blogspot.com

Facebook: 
M. Leighton, Author

Twitter: 
mleightonbooks
 

Goodreads: 
M. Leighton, Author
 

Contact me

[email protected]

Please enjoy this excerpt from

Blood of Anteros, Book I of The Vampire Agápe Series by Georgia Cates

Available now through Amazon, Barnes & Noble, iTunes bookstore,

Sony, Diesel, Baker-Taylor, Kobe and Smashwords

Blood of Anteros Synopsis-

I was tantalized by the mystery of her. The leech inside me came out to find prey, but found none in this enigmatic girl. The close proximity of her essence didn’t entice the monster within, so what did that make her? I had more questions than answers, but one thing was unmistakable; although she released me from her embrace, her hold on me remained.

Cruel circumstances turned Curry Brennan into the wretched monster he hates and refuses to accept, but when an expected turn of events releases him from the bond of his obsessive maker, he returns to the home he knew 161 years earlier and finds the return of happiness and joy in something he didn’t know existed. Puzzled by his growing attraction to Chansey Leclaire, a human, he is unable to resist the captivating relationship that threatens to reveal his existence as a vampire. He eventually discovers the reason he was destined to find what he didn’t know he searched for and is faced with the cruel realization that the living and the immortal undead will always be separated by one thing. Eternity.

Chapter One

July 11, 1989

21 years ago

Los Cabos, Mexico

Humans chased eclipses so they could say they were witnesses to them, but we chased the darkness of the moon covered sun because it coincided with spectacular supernatural events for our kind. The greater the eclipse, the greater the outcome, and this was predicted to be the grandest total solar eclipse since 1955.

We arrived at our resort, under the cover of darkness, the night before the eclipse. Marsala, my maker and eternal captor, studied the prediction of the paramount eclipse, along with the history of others, to predict the best location for us to experience its projected greatness. Because the narrow path of the eclipse was limited to tropical locations, we were required to leave the safety of a cooler, darker climate and she carefully chose Los Cabos, Mexico as our location. She never revealed the nature of her rationale, but her secrecy came as no surprise; it was her way. Unlike other guests at this tropical destination, pleasure wasn’t what drew us to this all-inclusive beach resort; Marsala had ulterior motive in mind.

It was no surprise to learn Marsala made arrangements for us to share a suite. She assigned the other half of our foursome, Wythe and Madon, to a suite down the beach from us and ordered them to remain there while she and I experienced the eclipse together, as a couple. She was shameless in her show of partiality for me, but her efforts to win my heart were pointless; she refused to see my deep loathing for her.

Wythe and Madon were captives like me, with one exception; they loved Marsala unconditionally. She always chose me first, leaving them to battle for second place, while the loser settled for third. Both were completely unaware it was a competition I had no desire to win.

She sought their love and intimacy, only after failing to capture my heart. She toyed with them, playing one against the other as she coaxed them to fight for her affections, promising her love as a prize for the winner. She used their competition as entertainment and it was one of many cruel ways she made herself feel wanted and worthy.

Wythe and Madon shared a common loyalty and devotion to Marsala, along with jealousy and hatred for me. They were furious because she had chosen to experience the supernatural event with me, while they were ordered to not interrupt, and her wrath was the only reason they didn’t kill me. I wished they would, but they weren’t kind enough to put me out of my misery, leaving me forced to do it myself.

I spent the evening avoiding Marsala, along with her romantic advances. She finally conceded and left the suite, giving me a few hours of peace before she returned, shortly before dawn. From refuge in the bedroom, I smelled a human and recognized it as another one of her games. The warm, fresh blood was intended to taunt and punish me for resisting her romantic advances.

I spent the day in the dark bedroom, away from the sinister devil that refused to release me from her hold, and waited for the moon to cover the sun. Eclipse watchers gathered on the beach outside our suite and their excitement could be heard inside the safety of our suite as the darkness approached. I left the bedroom and entered the living room to find a young Mexican woman sitting quietly on the couch. “Curry, I have something special for you.” There was no fear on her face, a sign she didn’t realize Marsala was a vampire with plans in store for her.

“I don’t want your gift,” I replied, dryly.

“You can be so inconsiderate at times. I went to a lot of trouble for this one and I know you thirst for her blood; I see the desire all over your face,” she taunted.

“You know how I feel and I grow tired of repeatedly explaining the fact that we no longer need to kill humans to survive.”

She ignored my words and attempted to taunt me further by saying, “Can’t you smell the richness of her blood?”

“Why is it impossible for you to take no for an answer? It’s exhausting. You are exhausting.”

“Curry, we’ve waited for this total solar eclipse since 1955. Something spectacular is about to happen and that means this is a time to celebrate.” She walked over to the young woman sitting on the couch and lifted her wrist in my direction, offering the first drink to me. “Please join me in drinking from her. I chose her just for us because I know she will be delicious.”

Bewilderment flooded the young woman’s eyes as she looked to me for some kind of reaction since she didn’t understand English. She was confused by Marsala’s gesture, but I gave her a false smile of reassurance and was glad she didn’t comprehend what was about to happen to her.

I was powerless to stop Marsala, but I refused to watch her prey upon this innocent woman, so I stood to leave the inevitable scene and heard Marsala whisper her patented line. “Know the truth, but whisper lies.” It was what she always said the moment before she devoured her prey.

I entered the suite’s bathroom and shut the door before the young woman’s screams invaded my sensitive ears. I looked at the stranger in the mirror staring back at me and wondered who he was. His image stood just under six feet tall and his hair was dark, nearly black, like his heart. I leaned closer to the reflection, attempting to see a glimpse of myself within the monster standing in front of me and searched his eyes, the so-called windows to the soul. I looked beyond the flecks of light blue and gold of his irises, but found no trace of the soul I was told no longer existed and wondered, “Who is this demon mocking my every move?”

Shortly after the woman’s screams stopped, I felt the arrival of the darkness and silence swallowed the noise of the crowd’s loud anticipation. Marsala anxiously called for me from the other room. “Come Curry. It is time.”

With one last glance, I bid farewell to the stranger in the mirror and walked through the living room to see the lifeless body of the young woman with a large, bulging abdomen stretched  awkwardly on the couch. Unaware it was a possibility, my revulsion for Marsala grew greater. “How could you? She was pregnant,” I disgustedly said.

“Don’t be so quick to judge. She thought she was here to negotiate a price for her unborn bastard.” She offered me a glass filled with the blood of my gift. “Here! Drink it before it cools.”

“Monster! Are there no bounds to the depravity of which you have so freely given your soul?” I asked, as I walked past her. I jerked the terrace curtains open, revealing the darkness of the eclipse and she stepped in front of me to place her palms on my chest.

“Curry, things are going to be different after this; I’m going to give you something you have always wanted and it’s going to change everything. We will be happy, you’ll see.”

“My hatred for you runs so deep it drowns in my very marrow and the only happiness I’ll ever know is when I am released from your hold.” I bit my tongue to withhold from saying more, not wanting to clue Marsala to my plan.

She flashed her familiar, evil smile and said, “We shall see.” She cautiously stepped out into the darkness where she was shielded from the dangers of the sun. I followed her onto the terrace and took my place, propped against the wall with my arms crossed and waited for my beautiful end.

She lifted her fair Creole face toward the moon covered sun with her eyes closed, concealing the pale peridots behind her lids. Two thick braids met just below the crown of her head and light brown curls hung close to her waist. She stood with her feet together and arms stretched wide, like the crucified, with her body motionless in anticipation of something I didn’t dare imagine.

I waited against the wall while the eclipse passed quickly and she unsuccessfully shielded her disappointment, as she wore her crushed hope like a flashing neon sign. We exchanged no words as the end of the eclipse drew closer, and with a last desperate attempt, she ended her silence saying, “I conjure you, Hecate, because you are the goddess of magic, witchcraft, the moon, the night, ghosts, and necromancy. I ask you to wrap your arms of favor around me. I compel you, Hecate, to bequeath me a viable womb. I call upon Rhea, the titaness of female fertility, because you are mother to powerful gods and I implore you to grant me fertility and fruitfulness of my womb.”

As she revealed her dark desire, I realized drinking the pregnant woman’s blood was no coincidence and I recognized her pathetic attempt to make me love her. “You can stop now, Marsala, because a child could never change the depth of my disdain for you. Are you really so far gone that you can’t see how bringing a child into this would be the worst form of evil?”

She raised her voice and began to scream her challenge, “I petition you, Hera. You are the queen of marriage, women, childbirth, heirs, kings and empires and I command you to bestow my body with a supernatural pregnancy. These things I command of you! I demand it!”

The sunlight slowly began to spill from behind the moon and death couldn’t claim me quickly enough. She didn’t want the eclipse to end and I took joy in her disappointment. With only seconds to spare, I gladly said the words she didn’t want to hear, “It’s over, we must go inside.”

Strangely, I was at peace with my plan for an elective demise. I was uncertain what awaited me on the other side, or if there could be anything other than Hell for someone like me. In the unlikely event my lost soul had a place to rest peacefully, I took my last opportunity to repent and although I held my tongue, my heart couldn’t remain silent.
“All this time, I can’t make right. I am hollow by what remains inside and I ask to be saved from the nothingness I have become. I ask that my misplaced heart no longer wanders, lost and wounded, and finds its way into the arms that love me. I beg the forgiveness of the ones I’ve wronged and of the One listening.”

My last moments were interrupted by Marsala’s words, “The goddesses and titanesses have heard my demands and I feel something happening.” She placed her hands to her abdomen and looked up at me with wide eyes saying, “I know you’ll love me when I give you the child you have always wanted.”

She was happy with herself, believing she had won the battle between us, her obsession victorious over my hate, and she would never understand that this had nothing to do with a child. I could never have feelings other than hatred for her because she had taken too much away from me by stealing my life, my happiness, my future, even the light of day.

“Look, it’s a sign,” she said, as she pointed to my crossed arms.

I lowered my head to see the source of her delight and saw a pair of brightly colored butterflies sitting upon my crossed arms, their bright wings growing redder as the sun began to peak around the moon. They softly and whimsically fanned their wings back and forth and I sensed she was right; something was happening. I felt a force of adrenalin coursing through me, along with a euphoria I’d never known, and was engulfed with inner strength as years of heaviness lifted from me. My invisible shackles were unlocked, tossed aside and the bondage holding me to her was dissolved.