Haunting Echoes

He was dead.

 

Amaia could hardly believe it. For twenty-four years, his energy had been a constant companion. She had seen him grow from an infant into a man. His whole life had been hers to observe. She experienced a sense of loss that bewildered her. In a way, her favorite hobby had been taken away, and there was a void that would need filling. Maybe it was time to tell Meg. The twenty-four year saga was over, and Amaia could confide in her best friend again.

 

What would she do now? Perhaps she should concentrate on finding a mate. She had no particular desire for one, other than as a distraction. Liam seemed to keep Meg occupied. Such a bond might be strong enough to cease Michael’s haunting.

 

The moment she thought it, the warm gray liquid of his eyes penetrated her soul. This wasn’t over. Far from it. Amaia grew convinced he would come back, and no vampire could supplant him. Her legs began to move, then run. Time to seek Meg’s help.

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 16

 

 

Outside Milan, January 1673

 

 

The night air was crisp and cool. Frost from the grass soaked through Amaia’s dress where she lay looking up at the clear sky. Little crystals frosted her eyelashes and began to form on her skin. Amaia loved the cold, even if she did have to increase her heart rate to keep the blood coursing through her. She would have to eat again soon to make up for the extra energy, but it was worth it. Around humans, her skin was heated by their energy, imitating their life. Away from civilization, with her own kind, she could let the coldness of death overcome her.

 

“Are you sure it’s going to snow?” Meg lay beside her, looking at the same clear sky. The skepticism in her voice was clear.

 

“Yes.” They were waiting on the first snow of the new year. Amaia felt it in the way the breeze swayed. Once the wind picked up, it wouldn’t take long for the snow clouds to roll in.

 

“You’re crazy.” Liam sat several yards away, whittling an owl with unnatural precision to add to his collection of little wooden figurines.

 

Yes, Amaia was indeed crazy, but not for the reason Liam thought. She had yet to tell Meg about Michael. When she’d returned from watching him die, finding the words had been too difficult, and the last week had passed without telling her.

 

“Here.” Liam placed the wooden owl on Meg’s breast. “I’m going to find some more wood and a meal. You may keep staring at the sky like fools.”

 

Ten minutes of silence passed after Liam left.

 

“What is it you’re not telling me, Amaia?” The question came softly, without any hint of accusation.

 

“What do you mean?” Amaia couldn’t help feigning ignorance.

 

“I had thought that maybe you were waiting for us to be alone. I can understand you not wanting to speak privately in front of Liam, but you’re still keeping something from me.” Tinges of hurt marked Meg’s voice.

 

This was ridiculous. There was no sense hurting Meg when Amaia needed her so badly. “Do you remember when I saw Michael in that tavern?”

 

“Yes.” Meg was patient, letting Amaia tell the story at her own pace.

 

“About two years later, I felt his energy stop.”

 

“So you felt it up until then?”

 

Amaia had forgotten that Meg wouldn’t know. “Yes. It was faint but constant. Then it surged and disappeared. I was relieved.”

 

“I can imagine.”

 

“The only problem is, it came back less than a year after that. My curiosity nearly killed me. It didn’t make any sense. I followed it to a small house in Calais. A baby had just been born. It was Michael.”

 

“Are you sure?” Meg turned to look at her.

 

“Yes. Positive. It was so strange to see him as a baby. I left, hoping that would be enough to sate my curiosity. It wasn’t. For the past twenty-four years, I’ve been journeying to see him when I can. I feel a constant pull to him.”

 

“But something happened recently.” Meg spoke with the surety of a best friend.

 

“Yes. A week ago, I was thinking about him more than usual. The draw to him was inescapable. I realized on the way there why: it was on that day in his life that I had killed him. When I got there, nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Then he suddenly died. His heart just stopped and…”

 

Meg reached over and covered Amaia’s hand with her own. “And?”

 

“You’ll think I’m crazy.”

 

“No, I won’t. At least not because of this.” Meg quirked a half smile. “You’re crazy, but for plenty of other reasons.”

 

Amaia smiled. “Thanks.” It took a moment to summon the words. “I felt a loss at his death.”

 

“That’s understandable, Amaia. For twenty-four years, you’ve watched him.”

 

“That’s not the worrisome part. I know he’s going to come back. I feel certain this isn’t the last time it’s going to happen. He will keep being reborn and calling me to him.”

 

“Why?”

 

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