The Lost Centurion (The Immortals Book 1) (8 page)

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Marcus couldn’t move. The pleasure was intoxicating. Her hands where everywhere, and she had made his shirt disappear. He raised the hem of her tank top and slid his hands underneath. Her skin was soft. His fingers caressed the side of her breast, and he wished he could kiss it. As she had started feeding from him without a warning, she also stopped and retreated several feet away from him, a horrified expression on her face.

“It’s okay, little thing.” He walked to her, but she stared up at him, her eyes full of tears. He crouched before her and took her face between his hands. “It’s my fault. I should’ve known better than to leave a vampling without food for a whole day.” He caressed her cheek and she leaned into his hand, her breathing hard and fast. “Your body is going through a radical change, and your mind isn’t ready to follow yet because you should be primed by your sire.”

“Virgil…”

“Yes, Virgil should be the one raising you. I’m sorry you’re stuck with me instead.”

“Would you hug me?”

He leaned and took her in his arms and felt her whole body shaking. “You haven’t drunk enough. You still need to feed.”

She shook her head. “No, I won’t drink again from you tonight.”

He noticed how hard she was trying to control herself to keep from biting him and nodded. “Let’s go back inside. I need to rest and so do you.” He scooped her up and she hid her face in his naked chest. Out of the corner of his eye, he located his discarded shirt by the umbrella stand, but decided to come back later to pick it up.

Once in his bedroom, he deposited her on the bed, then dried the sweat covering her face with a towel. “Everything will be all right.” He had never made a promise since Aurelia had died and couldn’t believe the words had left his mouth.

Diana took his hand and moved it over her still beating heart. “Tell me it’s true. Tell me you believe so.”

“I do.” He lowered his head to her chest and brushed the hollow of her breasts, then lay by her side, one hand over her waist. “Now dream for the both of us, little thing.”

He had left the venetian blinds ajar to let some of the outside coolness to refresh the air, and when he awoke, the sun had inundated the room. Noises and bakery smells from the busy city reached the quiet oasis that was his bed. Stubbornly keeping his eyes closed, he reached out to his side, feeling the untidy sheets for Diana’s form. She wasn’t there. A long-forgotten ache took hold of his heart and he pressed his hand over his chest.

“Good morning, Marcus.”

He opened his eyes at her voice and found her sitting on the couch under the window, both her feet perched on its edge, her chin resting on her knees. A small smile accompanied a mischievous look on her face, her eyes shining with a new light. She looked rested.

“Good morning, little thing.” He sat on the bed, his back relaxed against the headboard.

“Nice ink.” She raised her chin and her eyes roamed up and down his chest and right arm.

His hand shot toward the Roman acronym “SPQR” and the eagle tattooed on his skin. “A reminder of my eternal shame.” Normally, he wore shirts with long sleeves to cover the design. The reminder was for him and him alone.

She frowned.

“In my time, only slaves, criminals, and mercenaries wore ink, so people knew right away of their station in life.” The distant memory of the shocked face of the medicus he had asked to perform the series of tattoos now covering his body came back to him. “Do you know what the Latin word for tattoo is?”

She seemed to search for the meaning, then bit her lower lip. “No, I don’t.”

“Stigma.” Saying the word conjured the millions of pricks inflicted with the pointed instrument. Marcus shivered as if the medicus were there in the room with him. It had taken the small, impatient man three long sessions to finish the design. At the end of each one, Marcus had been left bloodied and nauseated by the pain and the smell of the mixture used to make the ink. Acacia, gall, rusted bronze, and vitriol made one sick aroma when forcefully injected under one’s skin.

Her eyes shifted from the tattoos to his face. “Why did you choose
those
symbols?”

The Roman eagle and the initials standing for the Senate and People of Rome had seemed to Marcus the perfect choice at the time, several centuries after he had become an Immortal. Christianity had replaced his gods and hordes of barbarians had sacked his beloved city. “Because I would’ve preferred to be a slave and serve Rome rather than to be witness of her downfall and outlive her.” He felt exposed and left the bed in search of something to wear. With two long strides, he reached for the closet and grabbed a white shirt he donned over the jeans he still wore from the day before. He turned to look at Diana, who was silently studying him.

“Are you hungry?”

“Yes, but I can wait for you to have breakfast.” She rose with one graceful move. “Come to the kitchen.”

He walked behind her, and only when they were close to the end of the hallway did he realize that the smell of bakery hadn’t come from outside, but from his kitchen. He stood at the doorway, his eyes on the marble surface of the table laden with two cakes and several trays of turnovers.

“What do you think?” She smiled at him and walked to the table, reaching for a plate to serve him.

His mind was immediately filled with worries. He took the plate from her, put it back on the table, then grabbed her by the elbows. “I told you it was dangerous to leave the house. Someone could’ve seen you. The nest could’ve found you.” He realized he was shaking her and immediately freed her and stepped back.

She tilted her head toward the oven. “Relax. I couldn’t sleep and I baked the rest of the night away.”

His heart still thrumming against his ribcage, he sat on the chair she was offering him and accepted the glass of water she then poured for him.

“Have something to eat. You look a fright.” She pushed toward him the plate now filled with two turnovers. “Peas and potatoes.” She indicated the triangular pastry on the left of the plate, then pointed at the one on the right. “Cauliflowers and black olives.” She watched him as he elected which savory turnover to eat first. “I couldn’t find any form of meat in the fridge.”

“I’m vegetarian.” He took a bite from the one on the left. “This is heaven.” He took a bite from the other and moaned in delight.

“You’re vegetarian?” She gave him an amused look. “Well, aren’t you full of surprises?”

“What? I don’t fit the stereotype?” He shot one eyebrow up, daring her to answer.

She laughed and raised her hands before her. “Peace.”

“Thank you for making breakfast.” He finished one pastry and attacked the other with gusto.

“I miss food already.” She looked at his empty plate. “I tried to eat something, but I couldn’t even bring the turnover to my lips. My whole body refused it.”

“I’m sorry.” He put the half-bitten morsel down.

“It’s not your fault and it’s not a new thing.” She shrugged. “When I first got sick, I knew something was seriously wrong with me when my appetite dwindled to nothing. I had worked the whole day in my kitchen, preparing my favorite savory cake, and when I finally took it out of the oven, the smell made me sick.” Her eyes lost focus.

He took her hand and gently caressed her fingers one by one.

“It’s been more than three months since I’ve eaten a whole meal anyway.” She smiled down at the sight of their hands intertwined. “In a way, I was already preparing myself for this.” A small chuckle escaped her mouth. “I would give anything to have even a crumble of that turnover now.” She licked her mouth, then her teeth pressed on her lower lip. “Just the flour dust resting on your chin would suffice.”

The air in the kitchen was suddenly uncomfortably warm and he moved to open the big window overlooking the internal court of his building. “There’s so much more to life than eating.” He reached for an empty plate and fanned himself with it.

The corner of her lip curved up and she looked at him, one eyebrow up. “Is there?”

He didn’t answer, but gave her his best smile, the one that had never failed him a good night company. She showed him her tongue.

“I hadn’t realized how famished I was.” He dug in the cake pan and served himself a large portion of a golden Bundt topped with fresh strawberries and whipped cream. “I think I’ll keep you around. You know your way around the kitchen, woman.”

He was able to catch the plate that flew his way with his free hand. “I really like this dinner service. Please, be more considerate of other’s property.”

“You must thank your good fortune I have no other choice for now but to remain here with you.”

Despite her playful tone, her words stung, being too reminiscent of a conversation he’d had in this same house. Several lifetimes had passed, but he could recite Aurelia’s spiteful confrontation by heart, and it had sounded a lot like what Diana had just said.

“Cheer up, big guy. If you behave, I’ll stay a bit longer.” She touched his hand and all of a sudden the dark thoughts plaguing him disappeared. “But now, I really need to feed.”

He raised his eyes from the table and looked at her. The telltale signs of her next episode were all there, but he hadn’t noticed them earlier. She was sweating and shaking and her eyes were darker.

“You’ve kept it under control until now?” He took her arm and felt unnatural coldness seeping through him at the touch.

“I’m trying to get better at it, but it isn’t easy.” She shivered and serrated her mouth in a straight line. “Especially when you eat with such abandon…”

He angled his body to give her access to his throat. “The least I can do is to return the favor.”

She tentatively licked at the same spot she had bitten the night before.

When her fangs entered him and she started sucking his blood, colorful lights exploded behind his closed eyelids. The experience didn’t last long though. She was done and cleaning the blood from her mouth and chin before he could coax her back to him.

“Thank you.” She left her chair and sat on his lap. “You tasted like the food I made you.”

He smiled over her head. “You’re welcome.”

The warm light of a September morning reached his shoulder, and she yelped in pain. He instinctively removed her from the trajectory of the light.

“It’s so hot it’s burning.” Her words were a blurred whisper.

“It’s already happening.” He moved his chair to the darkest corner of the kitchen.

“What’s already happening?”

“You’re turning faster than I thought you would.”

The old-fashioned telephone hanging from the wall rang loudly. Marcus looked at it for several seconds. When he had bought the house, he had assumed the telephone was only a decoration and had kept it.

“Aren’t you going to answer that?” Diana sleepily moved in his arms, burrowing her way closer to him, until she rested content against his chest, her arms around him.

Her breathing had already slowed down and Marcus didn’t want to move, but the telephone was too loud to ignore, and he reached for it, balancing her small form without disturbing her. She made a sound resembling a contented child’s snore and he couldn’t help but smile.

“Yes?”

“Marcus, where were you? And why, for Jupiter’s sake, didn’t you answer your damned cell phone?”

“Alexander? How did you get this number?” Marcus rocked her in his arms as if she were a child and leaned to leave a peck on the crown of her head.

“Never mind that. I’ve been looking for you since you left the gym yesterday.”

Marcus recalled he had turned off the phone during his cab ride and left it in the pocket of his shirt, the shirt he had never picked up from the terrace floor. “What is it?”

“The nest is looking for an immortal who has kidnapped a vampling. If the vampires find you, the Council won’t lift a finger to save your hide. You must leave Rome now.”

Marcus looked down at the sleeping vampling who had adopted him. “I can’t. She can’t.”

Alexander swore. “Is the sunlight already burning her?”

He caressed the red spots forming on her white skin where the sunrays had touched her a few minutes ago. “The turning is well on its way to completion. I can’t move her before it’s dark.”

“I’ll come to pick you up at sundown. Be ready. I’ll drive you to Villa Eloisa.”

Alexander ended the call, and Marcus was left with his worries and a sleeping vampling.

****

Diana woke in the darkness of the bedroom, but she wasn’t alone. Marcus’s weight pressed against her side but she could tell he wasn’t sleeping. His fingers were caressing her arms and she had the feeling she had been gently helped to wake.

“We’re going to Amalfi.”

She could see him despite the lack of any light in the room. She could feel his heartbeat and she knew he was under stress. “I’ve always wanted to see the Amalfi Coast.”

“You’ve never been there?” He sounded intrigued, but she sensed something was wrong.

“Why are we leaving Rome?” She stopped his hand on her arm.

“The nest is looking for us. They know an immortal has you. It’s only a matter of time before they’ll come through the front door.” He sat on the bed and brought her up with him. “I can’t protect you here.” He passed his hand over his eyes, then applied some pressure over his temples. “I’ve acted against the Immortal Council’s laws in hiding you from your nest.”

“What Immortal Council?”

“Just a bunch of egotistical assholes who stopped controlling my life long ago…” He looked outside. Noises from the streets below filtered through the closed windows. “There’s no time now to explain. Later.” He helped her up. “There’s a change of clothes for you in the bathroom. Hurry.”

She walked to the bathroom in a daze and splashed cold water on her eyes. The pile of folded clothes waited for her on a wooden stool. She lowered the lid of the toilet and sat to regroup her thoughts. Her feelings were all over the place. She hated being dependent on a man for her welfare. She had sworn to herself to never fall into that trap again. Then she had accepted Virgil’s help and here she was now, in a mess she couldn’t even fathom the seriousness of.

Marcus knocked on the door. “My friend Alexander is on his way here.”