“Can I make a confession?”
Roman took a sip of whiskey before offering a glance at the vampire across from him. Several centuries younger than himself, Lucien and he looked the same age. At least to the humans in the small tavern where the two men sat drowning their sorrows in whiskey and beer. To mortals, Roman and Lucien appeared in their mid-thirties, and by the looks the females were casting their way, there would be no problems feeding tonight. Or fucking if that was their desire.
“What is it you wish to share?” Roman intentionally left off Lucien’s title of prince.
“I’m jealous of my brother.”
“Andrei? Do you miss being king?” He lowered his voice on the last word so those around them wouldn’t hear. For more years than Roman wanted to recall, both he and his king, Andrei, had been stuck in the mortal world. When Andrei slept with a witch, then refused to mate her, she became angry and took her wrath out on the king by cursing him. Not just any curse either, but one that forced Andrei to live among humans and left him unable to cross beyond the mist back to their world. Roman had refused to leave his king’s side which also locked him into the human realm, but it had been a good thing. It didn’t take long to discover that every time Andrei fed, he sired a monster. A creation that was exactly like their ancient ancestors before the vampire’s DNA had evolved. As if that evil bitch witch hadn’t done enough, her curse included a cure that involved Andrei killing his fated mate. Fortunately, Roman––along with a witch named Korinna––had found a way around it, and now both his king and queen resided back home on the throne where they belonged. Unfortunately, while he and Andrei had been gone, everyone at home thought them dead and Lucien being the next eldest had to take on the role of king.
“Of course not. I hated ruling, and I hated the thought of my brother’s death even more. I mean the fact he found his mate. I want that for myself. Do you ever wonder if we will find ours?”
Roman rubbed the scruff on his chin. Many men in his world were alone. Except for a few––his king included––who had found their mates. “Have you dreamed of her?” It was the first sign that their destined female was out there. First the dreams were vague, then as they got closer to finding her, the dreams became more detailed until they were able to mentally connect to her and either find her or compel her to them.
“No. Nothing. You?” The prince looked devastated.
He shook his head. “No. I’ve given up.”
Lucien flashed a sympathetic look. “You are not the only elder to still have no mate.”
“True, but I’m tired and ready to go into stasis for a time.” He would never freely admit the difficulty he also had watching his king––his best friend––and the queen together. While he loved them both and would defend them to the ends of the earth, he needed some time. Not to mention the strange things that had happened to him in these past weeks. Maybe he would awake, and the female fated to be his would finally show herself. Or perhaps his worst fear would play out and he would walk this earth alone until he took his last breath. Trouble was, not much ended their life. Beheading, but that was about as likely as him turning one of these humans into his obedient slave.
Mind control was something they used only temporarily. It was impossible to hold long enough to make a human into a slave. Humans and their vampire lore. Romania was full of it, and most had come from the time when his ancestors––the barbaric, frightful version––had bathed the country with the blood of its people. The vampires evolved, however––with the help of their maker’s rivals––and the vampires learned how to act civilized. These days they were more so than most mortals themselves. Roman often found himself amazed at humanity and how barbaric they could actually be.
“Hey, I’m going to get out of here,” Lucien announced, pulling Roman from his own pity party.
“Are you heading home?”
The prince grinned. “Nope. I’m heading to sweet talk that charming brunette who keeps smiling at me.”
The stares from two blondes, a redhead and the brunette Lucien spoke of bore into his back. He didn’t need to look to know they were willing the two men to come their way. The females’ sexual energy charged the air. Roman raised a brow.
“Only one tonight?”
Lucien shrugged. “If fate refuses me a mate, then I’m willing to please all of them if that is their desire. I thought I’d leave you your choice, however.”
“Always so kind, but I’ll pass tonight.” Feeding was something he did only when absolutely necessary. As a royal guard, it was his duty to protect the family no matter the cost. Being weak was not acceptable, but it didn’t mean he had to partake of the vein that often. Sex? He no longer recalled what that was like, it had been so long. He wondered if the limp flesh between his legs had forgotten how to function as well.
“As you wish then.” Lucien took one last swig then headed for the females at the bar, leaving Roman to contemplate his empty life.
* * *
Harper spotted a person further down the embankment, tangled in some brush. Slinging her jump bag over her shoulder, she started for the patient. There was no one else to help as they were already busy attending the other victims from the three-car accident. She was on her own, at least until she could assess the patient’s condition and determine their place in the triage. For all she knew, the person was already dead, and moving them now would be a waste when others needed help.
She shoved away painful memories of a similar accident that happened a year ago on this day. The difference was that one involved her and her best friend. Harper walked away without a scratch even after being tossed from the car as it rolled down this same embankment. However, her friend Sami’s body was shattered like a fragile china doll and she had died instantly. Harper was thankful for that much, but being a survivor was difficult to digest. She missed Sami every single day. The two had a bond stronger than most sisters.
Her boot slipped on the muddy ground and she slid a few feet before grabbing hold of a small tree. Between the rain and Harper’s mind being in several other places, she was a walking disaster. The dreams she’d had every night for the past several months were not helping. Mr. sex-god-on-a-stick was keeping her sexually frustrated and in a foul mood. It was hard to concentrate these days while her mind was stuck in a dream world with a man who would never be real.
She cursed. Why the hell was she dreaming about some drop-dead gorgeous blond, well-muscled hotness with the bluest eyes ever created? Apparently, it had been far too long since she’d been laid and needed it badly. Or what was more likely was she had jarred her brain far worse than she had thought in that accident. One thing was certain, her dream man was going to ruin any other for her. The way he touched her, looked at her with the deepest admiration and love a woman could ever desire. If Harper could meet someone who was even half as devoted as her dream lover, she would die a happy woman.
“Wake up, Harper. He’s a dream,” she whispered to the cold, wet sky. When she finally reached her patient, she set her bag on the ground, dropped to her knees and pulled on a pair of gloves.
“Hello, my name is Harper.” She used her soothing EMT voice as she checked for a pulse. Weak, but there. She clicked her radio. “I located a female down the embankment. Unconscious, but I have a weak pulse, so I need a basket down here.”
Copy. It’s going to take us a few minutes to get to you.
She knew her captain would do his best to send the team down to her as fast as possible. Meantime, she checked the woman for pelvic injuries and to her surprise nothing appeared broken. Next, she focused on the blood seeping from the patient’s jeans. Harper opened her bag, grabbed the scissors and began cutting through the blood-soaked fabric.
“Damn it,” she whispered as she touched her fingertips to the edge of the six-inch gash. It was open to the bone and needed covering before they transported her up the hill. Reaching for a dressing, Harper took a deep breath and prayed it didn’t happen again. Otherwise, how would she explain the blood with no wound? As she went to lay a pad over the gash, her worst fear came to pass.
“No. Damn it, no!” Not that she wished her patient not to recover. She did, but not this way. This way was causing Harper to contemplate seeking medical help of her own. The screwed-up-mind variety. Because she was losing hers. There was no other explanation for why she sat here on the cold, muddy ground and watched her patient’s wound healing itself.
She jerked her hand away, hoping that might halt the knitting of flesh back together. The woman moaned and for a brief second her eyes flashed open before they slammed shut again, but the wound had stopped healing.
Thank God!
Behind her came the sounds of her team coming to assist. If she could hold off for another minute on wrapping the leg, she just might get through this. Pretending to reach for something in her bag, Drake, a probie, dropped beside her.
“Need help?”
“Yes, finish dressing that wound while I check her vitals again.” She breathed the biggest internal sigh of relief.
“You got it.” He got to work while she tried to calm her nerves and carry out her job. Minutes later, they had the woman secured in a basket and ready to be transported up the embankment. As Harper followed her team, she made the decision that at the end of her shift, she was asking for leave. Somehow, she had to get her shit together and figure out what was real and what wasn’t. All she knew was that after she had walked away from a tragic accident in this same location––while her friend had died––Harper’s life had changed. Besides having survivor syndrome, she had been dreaming of a hot stranger. A relationship in another world that didn’t exist. Then there was the ability to heal. Almost everything she touched appeared to have a new life breathed into it. First, it started with a houseplant. Then moved to her garden, where her plants thrived like never before. So much so, that her mother had even commented about Harper finally finding her green thumb. It hadn’t stopped there, however. She noticed that while cutting her leg shaving, the slight wound healed and vanished before she could wipe it dry. Now, her patients were also healing when she touched them.
What a fucking freak she was. That, or she was having a mental breakdown. Harper wasn’t sure which she was hoping for. One thing she knew, she was falling for a man who wasn’t real. She was a serious mess on the verge of mental collapse.
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