We’re sitting side by side at the dining room table, coffee mugs drained, some of the morning’s tension finally dissipating.
I stretch my arms overhead and sigh. “What a way to start our first day as a married couple.”
Frey stands up, holds out a hand. “Well, this is still the first day.”
I put my hand in his and he pulls me up. “And we did get interrupted. Mom is going to be all right. We have the house to ourselves. Now remind me, what is it we were doing this morning?”
Frey pulls me close with a hand at the small of my back. “This refresh your memory?”
The feel of him hard against me sends a rush of heat to my skin.
It does.
“DO YOU THINK IN TWENTY YEARS WE’LL STILL BE spending afternoons like this?”
I’m lying on my stomach, stretched out beside Frey. We’re both naked, both spent after an afternoon of energetic and imaginative sex. I didn’t know there were so many ways to give and receive pleasure.
And I’ve been around.
Frey makes a grumbling sound that is half purr, half growl. “I hope so. Or I’ll have to trade you in for a younger model.”
“Is that so?” I prop myself up on my elbows. “Let’s see. In twenty years I’ll still be thirty, and in twenty years you’ll be—”
“Okay.” Frey covers my lips with a finger. “I get it. I guess I’ll just have to keep coming up with ways to keep you interested.”
“Well.” I draw the word out, my turn to purr. I lift myself so that I am now lying on top of him, stomach to stomach, hip to hip, my legs resting between his. I grind against him, feel a familiar stirring. “You’re off to a great start.”
He pulls my head down for a kiss, tongue teasing, advancing, retreating, until I grip it gently with my teeth and draw it in. He puts his arms around me and I know he intends to roll me over. I don’t let him. Instead I sit up, straddle him, take him fully and deeply inside. His breath catches and his head falls back. He lets me take the lead, lets me draw pleasure from him as I lift and lower, thighs clenched tight, muscles contracting around and against him. His breath comes faster, his body tenses. I’m not there yet, but it doesn’t matter. I watch him, watch his face, watch as the muscles in his abdomen grow taut, watch as his back arches. His hands grasp my hips. He’s so close. A tiny movement, a tightening, and a moan escapes his lips as he empties himself into me.
A moan escapes my lips, too. Intense pleasure as satisfying as any orgasm. Frey’s face, shining, open, so bright with love it’s like looking into the sun.
This is what love is.
I collapse against him. We hold each other. He strokes my hair, and I feel hot tears burn the back of my eyes.
I think of my conversation with Vlad.
Yes.
Love is worth pain. Love is all there is.
I bury my face against Frey’s chest, breathing him in, wanting to imprint his very essence into my brain, secure in the knowledge that I will remember this moment.
As long as I live.
CHAPTER 34
THE TABLE IS LADEN WITH FOOD—A PLUMP ROASTED turkey, bowls of potatoes, steamed carrots shiny with butter, green beans in a casserole crusted with onion rings. In the center of the table, a simple salad in a broad wooden bowl—various greens and kale and still-warm-from-the-garden tomatoes with a dressing made from freshly pressed olive oil and one of Dad’s wines. The aroma from the breadbasket tempts even me. Thick slabs of a hearty, crusty baguette begging to be slathered with home-churned butter. Makes a vampire’s mouth water.
Could be a typical American Thanksgiving feast.
Except that we’re not in America. And this isn’t Thanksgiving. It’s my mother’s wish.
I look around the table, my heart full. Dad is at one end, brandishing the carving knife like a miniature katana, much to the delight of John-John, sitting at his right, and Trish, sitting to his left. The kid’s faces are alight with the simple joy of family together. Next to John-John, Frey watches, too, his wonderful smile a reflection of his son’s. He has one of my hands clutched tightly in his own. Across from us, David and Tracey. Even they are smiling.
I sit, wishing the unbridled contagion of happiness would infect me.
But it won’t.
It can’t.
Mom leans toward me. She’s next to me, opposite Dad, at a table in a storybook setting under big, broad-leafed trees in the backyard of their villa. She reaches for my hand.
I don’t pull back. There’s no longer any need. The coldness of my hand in the warmth of hers no longer requires fumbling excuses about poor circulation.
“Please, Anna,” she says softly. “Don’t be sad.”
I meet her eyes, so warm and full of life. My heart beats with dull, irritating regularity in my chest. “This is so unfair.”
She sits back, smiling. “How can you say that? Here we are together. You’ve found a wonderful man in Daniel and a child that will bring you as much pleasure as Trish has brought us. You have much to give the world. I am so proud of you.”
I close my eyes, tears spilling over my cheeks, filled with so much sadness, my guts twist with it.
Mom reaches over again, touches the tears with the tips of her fingers. “No tears. This is a time of joy. A time to be together with no regrets. A time to make memories.”
I take her hand in both of my own. “I love you.”
“I love you, too, Anna.”
Laughter from the other end of the table makes us look up. Dad has carved off a huge turkey leg and placed it on John-John’s plate. John-John doesn’t hesitate a moment, but scoops it up with both hands and takes a bite.
This time, a smile touches my lips, too. Mom is right. No tears today. They’ll be plenty of time for tears later. When she’s gone.
I’m both sad and elated.
I’m looking at my future. Here surrounded by those I love. These are the memories I’ll cleave to in my lifetime.
More than a lifetime.
These are the memories I’ll keep for an eternity.
EPILOGUE
NO ONE REALLY EVER GETS A HAPPILY EVER AFTER. I don’t expect my story will be any different. There will always be conflict in the world—between mortal and immortal, between immortal and those who would challenge the way of things. I suppose that’s why I am. It is my burden to keep the balance. Having Frey in my life, and John-John, lightens the burden. Having a family and friends, humans I care about, lightens the burden. I didn’t choose this life, but I take comfort in the choices I do have. The choices I’ve made.
My name is Anna Strong.
I am vampire.
Special Preview of Cursed
Read on for a special preview of Jeanne C. Stein and Samantha Sommersby’s first Fallen Siren novel
CURSED
by S. J. Harper
Coming from Roc in October 2013
Meet FBI agents Emma Monroe and Zack Armstrong. She’s cursed. He’s damned. Together, they make one hell of a team.
Emma Monroe is a Siren, cursed by the gods and bound to earth to atone for an ancient failure. She’s had many names and many lives, but only one mission: redemption. Now that she works missing-persons cases for the FBI, it could be just a rescue away. Unless her new partner leads her astray.
Special Agent Zack Armstrong just transferred into the San Diego field office. He’s a werewolf, doing his best to beat back the demons from his dark and dangerous past. As a former black ops sniper, he’s taken enough lives. Now he’s doing penance by saving them.
Emma and Zack’s very first case draws them deep into the realm of the paranormal and forces them to use their own supernatural abilities. But that leaves each of them vulnerable, and there are lines partners should not cross. As secrets are revealed and more women go missing, one thing becomes clear: As they race to save the victims, Emma and Zack risk losing themselves.