“I’ve been waiting for you.” Amaia halted as Michael faced her. “I know you’ve been watching. Now that the moment is here, I don’t know what to do.”
The nerves in her stomach tightened, nearly doubling her over, and her eyes widened. His olive skin glistened with sweat under the summer sun. Black hair fell in light curls around his ears. His beard had thickened since she last saw him, but other than that, he appeared the same as he had the last time she’d visited. His body was relaxed, but his eyes held a mix of anticipation and resignation. And recognition. It couldn’t be her imagination. His eyes held knowledge. But that was impossible. Amaia gathered her wits and adopted a casual and somewhat confused pose, furrowing her brow as she peered at him. “I’m sorry, do you know me?”
Michael smirked, but it held no mirth. “Don’t play with me, Jocelyn. Lying never did become you.”
Her heart stopped. Jocelyn. She hadn’t heard that name in almost a century. Not since the night Lawrence had transformed her.
“I’ve sensed you. I don’t know how to describe it.” Michael leapt off the boulder. “I’ve thought I caught glimpses of you watching me, but I could have imagined them. I’m beginning to think I didn’t, though. You’ve been in my dreams my entire life. The only thing is, they’re memories more than dreams. I wonder, do you find yourself having the same type of dreams?”
There were no words. No words in Amaia’s mind and none on her lips. This wasn’t supposed to happen.
“Dear Allah, you look exactly the same.” Michael reached out and stroked her cheek. In her shock, Amaia didn’t remember to warm her skin. She couldn’t even bring herself to break her deathly stillness. “So cold. There’s nothing to fear, Jocelyn.” His hand traveled to grasp her arm. “I had thought you’d be happy. You clearly know me. Or is it that you don’t like this body?” Michael let go of her arm and looked down at himself. “I don’t know why I keep changing, but you always stay the same.”
This was dangerous. How had this happened? How had a vague familiarity morphed into knowledge in the span of a lifetime? She needed to do something, say something, anything. Nothing came. In all of her imaginings, she had never once supposed this could happen.
“My parents named me Bayram, but you may call me Michael.”
He even knew his name. What else did he know?
“Say something. Please.”
His pleading tone moved Amaia. She searched his eyes, hoping to find answers. They stared back at her as always. “I…I can’t. I don’t know. Just…goodbye.” She saw his face fall, but she couldn’t bring herself to care, not when her entire world had just shifted.
Michael reached out and grabbed her wrist. A familiar thrill went through her, only it wasn’t familiar from her immortal life. It was an echo of a touch she had felt almost a century before.
“Jocelyn, please, don’t leave. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”
Amaia couldn’t bear to look at his face. She averted her gaze, hoping to strengthen her resolve. “I have to go.”
“Fine. I understand. Just, please, promise me you’ll come back. I need to see you again. I won’t let you go until you promise you’ll return.”
All it would take was a thought for her wrist to break free of his grip. If he didn’t open his hand willingly, the fingers would simply bend until they broke. Though the physical strength was present, the will was not. “I promise.” She didn’t trust her voice with more. Michael nodded and released her.
She looked him over, burning his form into her memory, and then turned and ran. It should have been a struggle to maintain a human pace, but it wasn’t. She didn’t want to run. She didn’t want to stay. She wanted to collapse and cry. It was no use. Tears would never come. Instead, she ran. Slowly. She didn’t care how long it took to get home.
Chapter 25
Cluj, August 1718
Eventually, her legs picked up speed. At some point, she was no longer running from Michael, but toward Meg. Now more than ever, she needed her best friend. When she neared home, she extended her energy, searching for Meg’s and Liam’s, knowing if she found one, she would find the other. Locating them didn’t take long. They were in the forest outside of town. In the little time they had been in Cluj, they had learned the locals were terrified of the woods and stayed away as much as possible, making it a favorite haunt for Meg and Liam. The frenzied pitch of their energies in the midst of sex grated against Amaia.
She waited a ways away with her back turned. She didn’t want to encroach on their moment, but she needed Meg more than Liam did. As soon as they were done, she approached. Meg lay atop of Liam, gently kissing his chest as they descended from their high.
“Meg?” Amaia’s voice was hollow, possibly a first in her life as a vampire.
“Shit.” Liam stumbled to his feet, pulling his trousers on as he went. “What the fuck are you doing, Amaia?”
“Calm down, Liam. It’s not like I haven’t seen it all before.”