The Lost Centurion (The Immortals Book 1) (7 page)

Marcus nodded, then kneeled on the bed and leaned over her, his chest close to her face, the scent of him adding to her intoxication. His fingers touched her tied hands and swiftly freed her. She felt his lips brushing her skin where the cord had marked her wrists, but the touch was so soft and swift, she wasn’t sure it had ever happened. Then his wrist was to her mouth. She cried when her fangs bit into his skin, perforating the hard first layer, only to find the softness beneath welcoming her. The first draw of his blood gave her a jolt of pleasure so intense she let him go for a moment, but he pressed himself against her. At every gulp, she felt him pulling closer, his body and soul merging with her.

“You must stop now.”

The plea was a hoarse whisper that lingered at the edge of her consciousness.

“Little thing, I think you’ve had enough.”

Her eyes snapped open, and she saw Marcus slumped by her side, his skin an unhealthy white. The whole scene a déjà vu she didn’t want to live through again. The high and the exhilaration had left her already. “I’m sorry. I can’t control myself.”

He smiled at her. “Feeling better?” He slowly moved to the edge of the bed, his bulk weighing down the mattress, his head angled toward her. “How was your day, honey?” He mumbled the words, chuckled at his own joke, then closed his eyes, the smile still there.

His heartbeats resonated in Diana’s ears, as if she were lying on his chest. At first erratic, they soon slowed down along with his breathing. She went to his side and arranged her body alongside his. A few heartbeats later, dreamless sleep claimed her as well.

When she woke, he was sitting on what she thought of as his couch. He was looking at her from under thick black lashes, his hazel eyes more on the green side now. She didn’t like that he had left the bed; it made her feel empty. All of a sudden, neglected physical needs made their presence fully aware when she felt the urge to go to the bathroom. She scooted over, her legs asleep, and her limp arms knocked over the plastic bowl he had given her before storming out of the house in the morning.

Marcus gave the empty bowl a look. “Oh—”

“Exactly.” She didn’t know how she had managed not to pee herself during the long hours he had left her alone.

To her surprise, he passed his arms under her knees and raised her bundled form from the bed.

She was too relieved to be in his arms to complain about his poor manners and suppressed a sigh against his chest. She was also shocked by her growing feelings regarding this man. “That’ll be all, thanks.” He had gently seated her on the toilet and wasn’t walking out of the bathroom. “I can manage it.”

“Right.” He turned and exited the room, closing the door behind him.

She finally relaxed when she heard his steps move away in the hallway. Taking advantage of the privacy, she doffed her makeshift toga and took a shower after she had regained feeling in her legs. Although he had bathed her only a day ago, she needed the refreshing cold water to cleanse the sweat from her hot skin. She felt the change taking place in her body, but didn’t want to believe what was obvious. It terrified her. Yet, the hunger for blood was still there, even after feeding.

“Are you okay?”

She heard the knock on the door and the question being repeated twice before she turned off the water. “Yes.”

A moment of silence was followed by heavy pacing outside the door. She could see his shadow walk back and forth in the hallway from under the door.

He stopped. “May I come in?”

Diana laughed. “Really?”

He entered before she could give him the permission he had asked for. She couldn’t help but shake her head, then peeked out of the shower curtain, keeping her body behind the fabric. “Yes?”

“Here.” He was carrying in his bent arms a pile of clothes neatly folded. “I wasn’t sure about your size—”

“Hand me a towel.” She exited the shower stall, covered herself with the white towel he had pushed at her, and stepped closer to him to examine the bundle.

“It’s been a while since I last bought clothes for a woman.” He shifted the pile from both hands to one, using the freed one to pass his fingers through his hair.

She wondered what his hair felt like, and wished it were her fingers caressing his head. “Thanks.” She reached for the clothes and brought them to her chest.

He nodded and left, forgetting to close the door this time. She pushed it with her foot, sat on the edge of the tub, and blew out a long breath when she saw his shadow looming outside. “What do you want from me?”

I don’t know what I want from you.
Marcus backed against the door and let himself slowly slide down. The geometric pattern of the small tiles forming a black-and-white décor on the floor caught his full attention for a long while. At some point, the house had been renovated. The flooring was probably two hundred years old, brand new in his eyes. The night breeze Rome was well-known for came through the window in front of him and messed up his hair. He idly thought it was past time he had a haircut. Maybe he could shave his head like Diana. “It’s nice outside. Do you care for a bit of fresh air?” He heard movements from inside the bathroom, but she didn’t answer. “I thought we could talk.” With a loud sigh, he rested his head against the door. “We really should talk. There are things you should know.”

The door suddenly opened from behind him, and he almost fell backward. Diana, fully clothed, wearing the purple tank top and faded jeans he had chosen for her, walked barefoot around him and headed to the bedroom. He jumped up from the floor and followed her to the window on the side of the bed, the one overlooking the terraced roofs and the hanging gardens. The scent from the night blooms mixed with her scent. The soap she had just used to bathe herself covered her more intimate essence and he longed to lean down and breathe her in. Marcus had to stop himself from acting on his whim while she stood motionless, looking outside, and he wondered how she could remain unaware of his struggle.

“Thank you for the clothes.” A shiver ran through her and she hugged herself.

“I should’ve bought something warmer.” He strode to his closet and looked for anything small enough for her to wear. “This should do.” He walked back to her and wrapped a cashmere sweater around her naked shoulders.

She caressed the soft fabric with her fingers and tilted her head to her right shoulder to rest her cheek on the sweater, a small smile illuminating her serious expression. “I think I could use some fresh air after all.”

From what he could see, she was still shivering, but he didn’t want to argue. “This way.” He opened his arm to the side and escorted her out of the bedroom, then down the whole length of the hallway to an archway leading to a set of narrow stairs flanked by beige walls in need of a coat or two of fresh paint. He made a mental note of that and added it to the list of items in need of repair in the house. He had noticed its asking price was lower than he had expected, but had been in a hurry to buy his house back and hadn’t thought of hiring an appraiser. The ceiling was low and Marcus bent to avoid hitting his head on the exposed rafters. A few steps in, and the air in the small space felt too hot, her proximity affecting his ability to breathe. He climbed his way up, yanked open the dark wooden door at the end of the stairs, and was finally outside on the terrace. He didn’t stop until he reached the low parapet from where he had observed the young men boasting their misplaced egos only three days earlier. It seemed a lifetime ago to him. He leaned over, his eyes on the placid waters of the Tiber.

Diana had followed and was standing next to him—close, too close, but not touching—her elbows on the parapet, her eyes staring ahead. “I love Rome.”

He was taken aback by the softness and longing in her voice. He tilted his head to look at her and saw she was blinking away the tears slowly escaping her lashes. “I’ve tried to leave this city behind so many times, but I always come back to her.” He smiled. “Someone once told me Rome was my true love.”

She turned to face him. “Has she treated you well?”

“She’s a cruel mistress. But I do love her nonetheless.”

“I understand what you’re saying.” Diana leaned with her back to the river. She was small and could sit on the parapet without having to bend her knees. “You said we should talk and I agree.” She removed the sweater from her shoulders, repeated the gesture of stroking her cheek on it for the briefest of moments, then caught him watching, and put it back on.

“You can’t leave this house. My friend Alexander warned me the nest is actively looking for you.”

“Why?” Despite wearing the cashmere that should have kept her warm, she was shivering.

“We’re looking into that.” He wanted to take her in his arms, but there was something forbidding in her stance, the way she was controlling her breathing, that prevented him from closing that gap. They were separated by no more than two fingers, but she was miles away at the moment. “You seem to cope with the turning well. Anybody else would’ve freaked out in your stead.”

“I still can’t wrap my head around this—” She made a gesture encompassing her body from head to toes, then her eyes locked onto his. “But why aren’t
you
freaking about it?” She shook her head. “You see, after you left me this morning, I had some time to think before I went insane with hunger, and there’s one question you must answer for me before we talk about anything else.”

“I told you I’m not a vampire.” Marcus felt colder himself.

“And I believe you. But you know things…” She stretched her legs before her, then crossed them at the ankles. “What are you then?”

“Very old.”

****

Diana heard his whispered words, but also read the sadness in them. “How old are you?”

Marcus lowered his eyes to the terracotta tiles, his chest rising and falling rapidly. “Two thousand, one hundred, thirty-seven years, three months, and eleven days.”

She gasped at the revelation.

He straightened his legs, then stood, turning toward the parapet. He swung over it and sat facing Rome. “Of these two millenniums, I only lived for the first thirty-two years, and I have existed ever since.”

“That sounds… lonely.” She teased the hem of the sweater with unsteady hands. She had been trying to control the shaking, but it was worsening. “What are you?” she repeated.

“Cursed.” He was still as a statue. An imposing figure watching over the eternal city. “I can’t age.”

“Are you immortal?” Three days before, she would have thought voicing a question like that was crazy.

He laughed a bitter, humorless laugh, then raised his head to the heavens. A moment later, he had sobered up and was wiping laughing tears from his face. “I always thought the term immortal was misleading.”

She gave him a puzzled look. “Can you live forever or not?”

“Technically, yes. But I can be killed.” He shrugged. “I’m just very hard to kill.”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t get common illnesses, exposure to sunrays heals wounds and pretty much anything else done to my body, but I can be beheaded for example.”

Her mouth curved up in a small smile. “An allergy to machetes and a great tan, which I already envy… you got a very good deal if you ask me.”

“Believe me, it sounds better than it actually is.”

“To a dying person, it would sound like a miracle.”

He opened his mouth and closed it, then gave her an apologetic smile. “I haven’t had a real conversation in so long—” A car ran a red light in the street below and several horns honked. “I don’t remember what’s like to be mortal anymore.”

“Overrated.”

Marcus exploded in a genuine, stomach-hugging laugh. “Said the vampire.”

“Vampling.” Diana watched his whole countenance change from stiff to relaxed, and when he tilted his head toward her, the full moon illuminated his eyes. The hazel in them was golden-brown, and she melted in their warmth. “Tell me about you.”

“What do you want to know?” He crossed his strong arms before his chest, perfectly balancing his weight on the edge of the balcony, his booted feet dangling in the air.

She bit her bottom lip and realized her fangs were slightly protracted. With a snap, she willed them inside her gums. “You were born human, right?”

“Yes, I was a Roman citizen, born in a patrician family, destined for greatness.” Swinging his feet back and forth, Marcus hit the cornice with the reinforced heels. A small piece of the cornice broke and fell. He followed the descent only to let a loud breath when the debris hit the sidewalk without damage to the passersby.

“Then what happened?”

“I messed up my life and the lives of those I loved the most, and the gods cursed me with immortality to remember my sins forever. End of story.” His eyes changed to a cooler brown.

“Why are you looking for this Claudius?”

The cool brown became almost black, and when he locked eyes with hers, she saw hate reflected in them.

“He killed my wife and I swore on her grave I would kill him.”

She couldn’t help but inch away from him and flinch.

“I’ve been waiting for almost all my existence to vindicate Aurelia, and now I’m so close to it I can feel it in my bones.” He swung his long legs over the edge of the parapet and walked back inside the house without a look to spare for her.

Diana thought it was better not to follow him right away and lingered on the balcony to cool her senses. The moon was now shining high in the night sky and several stars were visible. She gave a better look around and realized the terrace was filled with vases full of succulents, some of them blooming with colorful flowers. A swiveling sofa was shielded from the nocturnal humidity by an umbrella that had been left open. She sat on the sofa and gently rocked it back and forth, thinking of the conversation she just had with Marcus. The hunger hit her without warning. She doubled over, fell, and screamed in pain. The terracotta tiles covered in wet dew felt too cold under her forehead. She breathed through clenched teeth and cried, writhing on the floor.

“Diana?”

She felt Marcus wrapping her in his strength, his arms around hers, his breath fanning over her mouth. As before, all of her senses were hijacked by the hunger. All that was left of Diana was her need to feed. His blood flew loud in his veins, its scent calling to her. She fought to gain control over her urges, but her fangs lowered in her mouth and she couldn’t will them back. He changed position and his throat was exposed to her. Her scream was muffled by his skin, her tongue already searching for his throbbing vein. She sat on his lap, latched her legs around his waist, her hands to his neck, and bit deeply at the base of his throat. His blood inundated her mouth and she swallowed greedy gulps. He tasted rich and spicy. Her hands left his neck to roam over his back, her body seeking his through the caresses.