He let out a soft gasp as my fangs broke the tender skin of his neck, and—for an instant—I worried it wouldn’t be good for him. I had spent centuries making my victims suffer with my bite. It seemed nearly impossible that I could give anyone pleasure.
Then he moaned, his warm hand cradling the back of my neck, even as his hot, rich blood flooded my mouth.
“Nicolas,” he breathed. “Fuck.”
I swallowed, noticing that his blood tasted different from the killers I usually fed from—almost like an exotic blend of spices. And beneath that, like the way freshly cut grass made me feel: the warmth of the sun on my face. Like the lingering embrace of church incense that told me I was home—that I was precisely where I belonged.
Eli’s blood tasted like him, but it also reminded me powerfully of younger days—long ago, from my childhood, when Thierry and I played until sundown in the fields behind the large stone church at the edge of town. Back when we were innocent, and neither of us could have fathomed the existence of magic or creatures that drank blood and lived forever.
And then, before I could follow those thoughts any further, the world around us dissolved into darkness.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN || ELI
The room fell away around us. There was only endless darkness. It should have been frightening, but instead it feltgood. Warm. Safe. Safer than I had ever been, in this life or any other. Like descending into a hug—an embrace that would hold me forever.
There were hundreds of points of light around us. They looked like stars dotting the night sky—but surrounding us in all directions.
What is this?Nicolas wondered. His awe rippled through me, mixing with my own. I wasn’t sure how I knew what was his and what was mine, but I did.
Proof that we’re supposed to be together,I told him. Though we didn’t have bodies here, I still took his hand. My intention to do it was enough.That we had always been meant to be together.
Eli, what does that mean?
Before I could answer, one of the points of light came close to us. It moved quickly, becoming brighter and brighter until it filled the darkness with light.
I felt Nicolas try to put himself in front of me, as though he were willing to use his body to shield me. But it was useless—the light was coming from everywhere at once.
Images began to bloom around us.
Nicolas, younger and still human, cradling an olive-skinned man with dark hair and even darker eyes. They were pressed against a stone wall, well out of view of anyone who might happen past. In the distance, I could hear the clomping of horse hooves.
Abruptly, I could remember it: the smell of packed earth and hay, the much better scent of Nicolas’s skin, still warm from the sun we’d just been in. The distant notes of music from the market several streets down. The feel of his body pressed against mine—masculine and strong and vital. Alive and wanting…
That was the first man I ever loved.Nicolas sounded almost dazed with wonder.But why are the visions showing us this?
I didn’t answer him. Somehow, I knew—in a bone-deep way—that he hadn’t connected the same dots I had. He didn’t yet understand that the olive-skinned man in the vision wasme. It was the very same life I had dreamed of since my early teenage years. Even though it had technically happened to me when I was someone else, the memory of it still belonged to me.
I smiled a bit at the memory, savoring the innocence and exuberance of my very first love. And I had loved Nicolas for all that he was: passionate and unfailingly kind, but also tender and mischievous when the moment moved him. And though we both would have been expelled from the village if we’d been caught—or perhaps worse—it never stopped him from pulling me into a shadowy corner and kissing me in a way that left me breathless and gasping for more.
I wanted to drown in his touch.
In the next instant, I found myself kneeling on a cold stone floor. There was a thick cloth hood over my head, obscuring my vision.
“Let my brother and me leave,” Nicolas said, speaking in rapid-fire French. He sounded bewildered and frightened. “Please. We won’t speak a word of this to anyone!”
I wanted to cry out to him, but I couldn’t quite remember how. Failing that, I knew I needed to escape—to wrench the hood off and run. But though my hands weren’t bound, my body wouldn’t obey my command to move. I remained perfectly motionless as the coldness of the floor bit through the thin fabric of my hose, my discomfort growing with each passing moment. Even though my muscles screamed for movement, I was frozen in place like a statue.
I hadn’t understood it at the time, but the modern version of me knew why. I was under a vampire’s compulsion.
“You and your brother may both go free,” a man’s lazy, silken voice said from somewhere nearby. “Once you drink. That’s all I ask. You needn’t hurt anyone if you don’t want to.”
“I don’t understand,” Nicolas said slowly, sounding appalled. “Drink… what?”
“Oh no, I think youdounderstand,” the man replied, chuckling. “Come now—what does your body crave? What does it want and need?”
“No! Nicolas, don’t do it!” Thierry cried out, in the same direction as the silken voice. “Magnus, don’t do this! I am the one who should suffer your wrath, not him! I was the one who killed—”
“Silence! Or I’ll cut your wagging tongue from your head.”
