Blood Evolution (BookStrand Publishing Romance) Read online

  I dreamed of her face.

  Chapter Three

  He was drawn toward the pretty, little house with an unstoppable force such as he had never experienced in all his centuries of existence, and he had experienced quite a bit in his time. Amon had explored countless ancient ruins, studied a multitude of mystical relics and spent all his lonely years looking through every stage of human civilization for an answer to his condition.

  In those early days among his people, this rare blood disease was considered a gift from the gods and nothing less. He could understand how the infection might be perceived in that way, now that he had centuries to study the principles of medicine and the evolution of mankind.

  When he was young, in the wild tribal lands of east Africa between Egypt and Persia, the affliction was easily controlled through the use of religion. The only God he had ever known, that his people had ever known, drank from the fountain of life four times in a century and that God was immortal.

  The fountain of life just happened to be devoted followers, hand picked at birth to be raised in perfect health and innocent of all carnal passions. The God did not drain them of their lifeblood, he merely absorbed enough to know each generation that was born under his reign. But, his bite was deadly, and nearly every chosen soul that offered himself offered his life, because the infection rarely left survivors.

  Survivors like his mother.

  As far as Amon knew, he was the first to betray the sanctity of the feast and desecrate the fount intended for the ceremony. If he could have traded places with her and taken the deadly bite to prevent her death, he would have done it gladly.

  He quickly learned that such an exchange could only mean tragedy for them both.

  Journal Entry:

  The main building where the chosen were lodged was closely guarded by loyal archons, but they knew me well and simply nodded to me as I passed each station unchecked. I told myself that I only wanted a glimpse of her natural face before she went to serve the God, a perfectly reasonable request considering the fact that she had daringly addressed me by my family name.

  I made my way into the lush courtyard at the center of the fortress, an oasis of decadent greenery and man-made waterfalls that was a treasure within the arid, brutal desert of our existence. I observed a walking path, which encircled the glittering pool, weaving in and out of emerald green palms and thick tropical foliage.

  I slowly traced the circle with my stride. The pattern intended to inspire peaceful thought and enhanced meditation, but even the calm pace I employed did nothing to settle the turmoil as I questioned my own motives in this course of action.

  I had always been a devoted follower of the God, performing my duties and following the rituals exactly as everyone else had in the temple where I was raised. I knew nothing of my family or my past, only that I had been born into the servitude of an immortal and that it was my honor to comply.

  Oh, and it was an honor! The glory and the excitement of the rewards as I entered the priesthood lifted me above any dream I had ever held. My faith was so absolute I had never cared for the love of another mortal in all my life.

  I think I felt the first inkling of change when I met my mother. I experienced a type of mortal pride and a connection to family that I had spent years suppressing as a child. I knew she must have loved with all her heart at some point in her life, because she survived the bite of the God and produced me, though both of our deaths should have been assured.

  I wondered briefly what my father had been like—a luxury I had never allowed myself in the past. Did the woman behind the veil have a father who loved her, who cried tears at the thought of her sacrifice?

  I told myself as I completed the circle that I would merely see the young woman as a formality, to lay upon her my thanks for the honor she did us all by serving the God. It wasn’t completely unheard of to pay one’s respects to the chosen and express envy for their position.

  Just as I had resolved my feelings on the matter, I heard the smallest whisper of sound near the largest cascade at the top of the pool. There was no moon in the sky that night and it had grown so late that even the torches and braziers burned low with rapidly depleting oil, making it difficult to discern much more than a shadow nestled at the water’s edge.

  I was eager to accomplish my task so that I could reconcile my emotions and resume my normal life, yet I felt obligated to approach the dark figure and offer assistance. I felt no danger under the circumstances. I was aware that anyone with ill intentions would not have made it as far as the private sanctuary.

  The figure was clearly that of a woman, clothed entirely in black. I used caution as I neared her shaking figure so she would not be startled, but, the moment my sandals scraped against an errant twig along the path, she sprang to her feet in alarm and turned to flee.

  I asked her to wait, asked if there was anything I could do to assist her in her distress, and she turned to me as if the sound of my voice had mesmerized her.

  It was dark, that was true, and she was veiled, but there was no mistaking the crescent moon and star on her forehead.

  “Assist me?” Her amber eyes were wide and incredulous as she responded from the distance. “You are the one who caused this.”

  My heart leapt at her words, considering all the implications.

  Could she possibly be crying because of me? Did I err in my judgment and somehow mark her with a displeasing symbol that would not honor the God? I trembled slightly when I dared to think she might have experienced the same feelings for me that I had for her.

  “I am afraid.” She said the words clearly in the courtyard, but they weren’t weak or insipid in tone. They were strong and full of fight, and my heart swelled with hope at the sound.

  When I reached my hand across the path to offer her my comfort, I had never been surer of anything in my life. She confirmed my action by closing the distance. When her fingers first touched the cup of my palm, I felt lightheaded, and I firmly closed my fist to keep the precious treasure of her hand within my grasp.

  Though the hour was late, I felt vulnerable out in the open oasis, and a primal need to protect the beauty at my side rose sharply in my chest. Without a word, I pulled her away from the falls and into a secluded alcove of worship where I knew we could be alone.

  I had to wonder then how innocent my intent was when I came to the lodge, because now that she and I were safely unobserved, I found an overwhelming desire to explore these new feelings which possessed my every thought and movement.

  “I must see you.” The words came on their own from the depths of my soul, and she nodded in acquiescence as if this were a perfectly normal request.

  With agonizingly slow movements, she reached up to her headpiece and began to undo the clips that held her covering together. The soft, black fabric of her simple tunic slid away from her arms and my breath caught as her tiny, delicate wrists were revealed.

  It was everything I could do to keep myself from capturing her hands, before they could complete their work, so that I might touch the fragile veins near the surface of her skin with my lips.

  Only the burning desire to see the whole of her face kept my attentions at bay and, when she finally pulled away the covering, I was stunned as her glistening hair cascaded down her back like liquid obsidian.

  Her face was lovely beyond compare, with the high cheekbones of a queen accentuating her full, sultry lips. She was everything a glorious vision of Mediterranean beauty should have been, with the grace and stature of Macedonian royalty.

  I had never seen anything so lovely in all my years, and I desperately wanted to throw her veil in the fire so that it could never cover such a wonder as her face again.

  “I have been promised to the God since my birth.” She breathed the words reverently as she came closer to me. “I know it would be wrong to love a mortal man and I never gave it thought because I knew it could not happen. I think I need to discover how wrong I have been on all accounts.”

&nb
sp; She was bold in her movements! I could see the fear in her eyes, but I could also see the desire as she unlaced my tunic with determination.

  I did not judge her for her actions. I had the same feelings for her that she had for me, and she was on the eve of her deathbed before she ever had the chance to live. I could not know what I would do in her stead.

  She slipped the rough linen shirt from my shoulders, laying my torso bare, as her fingers lingered on the smooth skin of my chest. The thick layer of muscle did nothing to muffle the rapid beat of my heart as she traced the contours of my form. She worked her fingers down, watching their progress with a kind of fascination. I knew she was innocent of all carnal pleasures, because it was one requirement of a sacrifice to the God.

  Her fingers found my navel and she kneeled down to taste my salty skin with her trembling lips. I was terrified that she would brush against my hips and feel the full effect of my arousal, so I wound my fingers in her hair, guiding her mouth in ways that I could control, though I was not sure how much longer I could maintain restraint.

  Her fingers circled the front of my waistband, slipping inside and probing for something that she could not possibly be ready for.

  I cupped my hands at the base of her neck and raised her to her feet, pulling both of us as far away from the doorway as possible and into a shadowy corner.

  I could not do this! I would not do this!

  “I cannot believe that the feelings I have for you in my heart could ever be wrong,” she said to me softly as she stood on tiptoe to brush her swollen lips against mine. “Either way, I die tomorrow evening. I would rather know the love of my soul mate when I pass into the next realm than leave here an empty shell of unfulfilled dreams.”

  How could I deny her last wish? It was more than that, though. I knew there was a selfish need at the base of reason, because I, too, wanted to know her intimately before she left this life.

  I do not think it mattered at the end, because she stepped away from her robes before I could stop her and stood before me with her beautiful figure so near that I could feel the heat coming off her skin.

  Her eyes were cast downward and I saw how truly vulnerable she was as she presented to me everything she had to give. I knew then that our love was the most precious gift I would ever have, no matter the length of time we were together.

  I touched nothing but her face, and she surrendered to me a kiss that etched her place in my heart for all eternity.

  Her hands bravely found the answer to our need and she touched me in such a way that I thought I might explode before we could complete our union.

  “Please….” I could barely speak the word because my thoughts were swirling out of control as she pulled me to her, her back against the cold stone wall.

  “Aziza.” She guided me between her legs as I held her easily in my strong arms.

  She gasped when I gently pushed inside her, but then smiled in ecstasy when I gave her more. I took her as tenderly as I could in my heightened state of desire and she shared with me all of the passion in her soul as we reached the end together.

  “I will come for you, Aziza,” I vowed as we lay together on her robes on the sacred alcove floor. “Before the ceremony, you and I will make our escape.”

  She smiled but did not answer my pledge.

  I never knew if her silent response meant she was aware that we could never succeed.

  Chapter Four

  He slipped as carefully and as quietly as he could, over the knotted roots of the ancient oak that split apart the old concrete sidewalk and ran alongside the twisted wrought iron fence in front of the yellow house.

  For centuries, he had been plagued by near sightings of her face, a glimpse of her figure or even her scent across a random garden, but he was never able to catch her in his hands and fulfill the destiny so cruelly denied them.

  Before this evening, he would have given anything for another chance. When the sun set upon his prison of sleep and opened the world to a nighttime of freedom, he came instantly to the place he had last sensed her presence.

  A thousand questions rushed through his mind. He scoffed at the fact that he had been given centuries to explore them and, only now, when he had finally found her, did he discover himself lacking answers.

  Perhaps there really was no delicate way for an immortal blood-drinking monster to express his undying love to someone who did not remember him.

  Perhaps he had done Fate a grand disservice by never truly believing that the circle would be completed and that he would be condemned to carry out his indeterminable existence with the wretched yet predicable quest for his own Holy Grail.

  All these thoughts drove him to the brink of madness. This had happened many times in the past, but it was different now. The answers he had been seeking for so long were now right in front of him and he thanked all the Gods, all the demons and the scientists he had cursed and railed against when they failed him before.

  It was time.

  Amon had to believe they shared a connection that transcended years and flesh if he were to believe anything at all. He pulled away from the massive trunk of the oak tree and took a step closer to the house.

  Before he could take another bold stride, the front door flew open and she came out onto the weathered floorboards of the porch. He was shaken by the fact that he had been so lost in thought he had not heard her coming down the interior stairs of the old building, and that questionable moment forced him back into the shadows to reconsider his approach.

  She was different now. Her eyes were heavily lined with black kohl, and she had changed her casual summer dress for heavy velvet and lace. The transformation was unseemly and it did not require his sharpened senses to detect her nervous movements as she fumbled in her purse for keys to lock the outside bolt.

  The metal on the ring clanked together and he knew her hands were shaking as she completed her task. Something had happened inside that house, something to change her manner. He could physically feel the fear and apprehension coming off her tense figure in waves.

  God, if he could feel it so clearly, a dozen others in the city would pick up on it as well, making her an easy target for any type of predator that lurked within the maze-like alleyways and back streets.

  She moved away from his position, oblivious to his presence, though she cast more than one furtive look over her shoulder. It was not difficult to follow her by any means. Even if she had not been distracted, there was no manner of person, mortal or otherwise, who could see him if he did not wish to be seen.

  Amon was not foolish enough to believe that he was the only one of his kind in the city. It was rare that other beings with his same affliction became aware of his existence and, when they did, they called him “Old Blood.” He knew that he was ages older than the others who still followed what they believed to be a deity, but he was also aware the infection had spread to many throughout the world since his time at the temple. The young ones had specific vulnerabilities and had to drink far more often than he.

  However, just because they were young, it did not mean they were not dangerous.

  Lacking the age and wisdom he had gleaned from his millennia of life, these newborn worshippers were brazen and zealous. They were not as powerful as Amon, by any means, and he often considered that perhaps the degree of infection had faded or become diluted after so long, developing countless permutations as it spread beyond the control of the priests when religion fell out of fashion in the past century.

  Amon followed her past the Gothic nightclubs, both the tourist traps and the local hangouts that most visitors never got to see. His curiosity was piqued, though he remained on guard the entire time.

  He told himself he would do anything to keep her safe, including the unthinkable. Taking another life was a repulsive action that he despised, but he had reluctantly grown accustomed to death as over time he learned that every person he was forced to bite would die from the infection.

  He still remembered with
hated clarity the first mortal he had killed to survive. He had gone on for so many years without giving in to the need and, as he lay on his deathbed, a healer came to aide him. She held his hand during his last moments and, in his delirium, he called out for his love.

  It must have been pity, or maybe the tears of ultimate sadness in his dying eyes, but she leaned over him and settled the most gentle of kisses on his parched mouth.

  His body responded before his mind could stop it and he bit into her full, lower lip. She tried to pull away, most likely confused at first, but, the instant that initial drop of blood entered his mouth, he gained the strength of a hundred men. He also retained memories from her life and knowledge of the time in which she had lived.

  She changed him. He took on the accent of her people, developed the taste for their food and blended in with their culture and time period as if he had been born to it.

  He never forgot her.

  It never got easier.

  Journal Entry:

  The servants laid out my ceremonial robes, prattling amongst themselves with excitement for the ritual that would take place in the evening. My outward appearance was calm and meditative, which is what any outside observer might expect, but my insides were filled with torrential thoughts of betrayal and blasphemy.

  None of the promises of damnation and eternal suffering held a candle to the burning desire I secreted in my heart to see Aziza again. I think the only reason I did not knock down the walls of her station and spirit her away in my arms right then was the knowledge that I would see her at the celebration before the spectacle of the sacrifice.

  I would use this time to gather my courage and set the plan for our escape into motion. I held one belief and one belief only by this point: we must be free together, either in life or in death because I knew an existence without her by my side would be an eternity of torture.