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legs. This god-like creature wanted me and it thrilled me that he did. I d make him a very,
very happy Master.
His fingers traced a line down my spine sending shivers straight to my scalp, raising
the hairs on my body. Like a god? He whispered close to my ear. You have it wrong,
Rabbit. I am a god.
I started with the confirmation of his words. He really could read my thoughts. My
repressed self bubbled up from where Dragos hid her. I grasped at my non-existent
mental shield and panicked as a wave of calm poured over me before I could fight back.
It allowed me to breathe easier and relax into his arms.
You like to fight. His tone sounded approving. And you don t believe me. Let me
show you our godhood.
Visions of an ancient stone temple towering over a dense jungle intruded my
thoughts like a video clip. Dragos stood on a dais at the top of the stairs, which climbed
the side of the building, as people were dragged to him one at a time. Sacrifices. His soft
voice echoed in my head. The moonlight glinted off his pale skin and baldhead, a giant
surrounded by his worshippers.
Precious life and blood, taken for granted, spilled for a monster that cared nothing
for them. Who probably terrorized this simple culture into extinction.
One after another the faces of victims played for me until I recognized a handsome
and arrogant expression. The love in his eyes for his god shone bright. Tane, before
Dragos made him a Nosferatu vampire.
As a human, he appeared so angelic.
My personal trip in history faded to present day, where Dragos attempted to convert
me to his religion.
I m not sure when I moved but now I straddled him, pressed up against his massive
chest with my arms wrapped around his thick corded neck. The scent of the Danube
River still clung to him.
His fingers played up and down my spine while he kissed a line from my shoulder to
my ear. Rurik s changed you. I don t like it.
I pushed myself away to meet his gaze. What do you mean? Rurik should have
minded his own business and left me alone. I needed to fix things for Dragos so he d like
me again.
He s made you happy. I can barely hear your grief. Even my visions of death don t
stir it. He gripped a handful of my hair and yanked it so far back I had to arch my torso
to prevent him snapping me in two.
I groaned at the strain on my back. My hands tried to find purchase but only found
his arms to grasp. I wanted to give him what he wanted but didn t know how. It made me
ache with incompetence.
We ll have to fix this. I want to taste the salty grief that almost drowned you when
we met. His fangs dragged and scraped the tender skin of my neck. Let s explore this
together and dig it back up. It was so fresh, it couldn t have healed in this short span of
time. Pressure built in my head as Dragos sank himself into my memories. I think this
is the source of your grief.
Dragos and Budapest disappeared, replaced by a heart monitor on a hospital
nightstand. The soft blips sounded familiar and the smell, of something dying, filled the
room. I turned, already expecting what would be there.
Laurent, my deceased husband, lay in a hospital bed. Blankets pulled up to his waist,
his exposed arms so thin and skeletal. The cancer had eaten away all of his strength.
A mass of wild blond curls rested next to his lap on the other side of the bed. He
twirled one around his finger then let it fall away only to start over again, a bitter sweet
smile on his face.
The head of hair stirred and lifted from the bed. I watched myself rub the sleep from
my eyes.
I didn t mean to wake you. Laurent touched my face.
Nonsense, I d have been upset if you let me sleep too long. Are you hurting? Do
you need the nurse?
I m all right, Connie. You really should get more sleep.
I get plenty of sleep. The lie sat in the room like an elephant. At the time I believed
myself. But as I looked at the dark circles under my eyes and my own weight loss I knew
I d only fooled myself. Laurent could see my suffering no matter how hard I tried to
conceal it.
That hurt. A lot.
I reached for an open book that sat on the bedside table. Do you want me to
continue reading to you? The Princess Bride scrawled across the cover in bold letters.
He d given it to me on our first date. I d been more in a Romeo and Juliet kind of mood
that day but we both loved this story.
He nodded. As you wish, but lay next to me. He tried to scoot over but the pain
made him grimace.
Let me help. My younger self raced around the bed to help him shift over then I
crawled in next to him.
He placed his head above my heart and snuggled in tight. His left hand caressed my
breast until the nipple budded.
How can I read with you fooling around?
I may be dying but I m not dead. His chuckle tore my heart apart just like it did
then. He glanced at my face and sucked in a breath. Oh baby, don t cry. He pulled me
down and kissed the tears that rolled over my cheeks.
That s not funny. I sounded choked up on tears.
I d buried this day deep, deep in my subconscious. I didn t want to be here, I
couldn t survive this again. I wasn t strong enough yet to face this moment.
The last time we d made love.
I tried to get out, but the room had no door. The pleasant noises from the bed drove
me mad with guilt. I couldn t watch my younger self with my dead husband. This was
why memories faded. How could I have continued living without him? I pressed my
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