Immortal Desires Read online

  Chapter 1

  Paris France, 1900

  "Goodbye, Jon. See you tonight," Elizabeth called to the tavern owner as she prepared to leave. Quietly closing the door behind her, she stepped out into the still night.

  The air was cool and crisp. It stung her nostrils and burned her eyes. A frigid breeze swept up the back of her dress, making her shiver. She pulled her smoky gray cloak more securely about her dainty shoulders.

  She hated the long walk home in the early morning hours. Even though the streets were deserted, Elizabeth couldn't help but imagine what might be lurking in the shadows, waiting patiently for her to pass by. She believed that darkness was a whole new realm, one filled with unimaginable monsters and hideous abominations that were naked to the mortal eye.

  Why wouldn't she just let her father meet her at closing time and see her safely home to their tiny apartment? Perhaps it was stubbornness. It was true; she could be very obstinate at times. But she just couldn't allow him to be subjected to the chilly morning air, not in his current state of health.

  After her mother's death the previous summer, he had grown frail and sickly, visibly aging beyond his actual years. Exposure to the cold dampness of this hour could be deadly. No, she would be just fine by herself.

  Although she was petite, with delicate features and slender curves, she portrayed a confidence that impressed her ability to handle her own. Elizabeth prided herself in being able to stand her ground and demand proper treatment. She felt as though she could handle just about any situation appropriately, while maintaining an adequate air of femininity.

  Over the last two years, she had worked as a barmaid at Jon's Tavern. Elizabeth had quickly developed the facility to turn a deaf ear to the nightly jesting and lewd propositions made by the many burly rogues that came in. Although the clientele frequently changed, the repugnant ones were usually repeat offenders. Why did they assume that just because she served their food and drinks, she was on the menu?

  Although many of the customers remained civil and spoke to her in a respectful manner, she never missed the appreciative glare in their eyes as she moved about the room. At least they refrained from taunting her and making obscene gestures. Of course, there were always those few who insisted upon testing her patience.

  Elizabeth shuddered inwardly as she thought about the two men who had come into the tavern earlier that evening. From the moment they strode through the door, dirty, disheveled, and obnoxious, she had instantly felt uneasy. Those two are trouble, she'd thought, praying they sat in someone else's area.

  Much to her chagrin, they seated themselves at a table in hers. Pounding heavy fists on the smooth, oak surface and swearing in the most blasphemous manner, they had demanded immediate service. Swallowing her repulsion at their distasteful appearance and disguising her irritation at their profanity, Elizabeth had smoothly walked to where they sat and took their orders.

  As the night wore on, the two became increasingly detestable. Their descriptive comments and abhorrent suggestions had sickened her, making her stomach churn with annoyance and disgust. Finally, she grew tired of their loathsome behavior and pleaded with Jon to throw them out. She hadn't even graced them with another glance as they were tossed out into the darkness on their drunken backsides.

  Elizabeth thought of the time she spent at the tavern as a valuable learning experience. She would need the skills to be able to succeed in a man's world. With her father's quickly failing health, she could foresee becoming solely responsible for her own survival. She would work as a barmaid, a seamstress, a schoolmistress—whatever it took. But one thing was for certain; she would never sell her body. She'd rather die first.

  A cool breeze swept across the ivory skin of Elizabeth's face. Although the air was cold, making her shiver, she broke out in a nervous sweat. Uneasiness nagged at her brain. Quickening her pace, she grew anxious to be in the safety of her home, safe from the darkness and the things that crept within it.

  The unsettling feeling that someone was following her sent shivers of warning along her spine. Elizabeth glanced around, making sure she was still alone. Finding no evidence of unwanted accompaniment, she sighed with relief and began to relax a little. I'm becoming paranoid, she chided herself.

  The clicking from the soles of her high-buttoned shoes on the cobblestone street reverberated through the narrow alley. The sound bounced off the surrounding walls and echoed around her....Her hands were turning cold and numb, the sensitive skin beginning to chafe. She briskly rubbed them together and blew warm air into her cupped palms. Should have brought my gloves.

  Tiny curling tendrils escaped the thick mane of golden blond ringlets that she had painstakingly secured at the base of her neck. The wind kicked at the curls, blowing them across her face. With tremulous fingers, Elizabeth smoothed the defiant wisps away.

  The alley's exit loomed before her. Almost there. She found herself practically running, anxious to be back on the open street and out of the darkened passageway. Perhaps she was just nervous, but the confining narrowness of the neighboring brick walls was nearly suffocating.

  As she rounded the corner, Elizabeth felt someone grab her from behind. A grimy hand instantly cut off her scream, and her nostrils were immediately invaded by the sour smell that accompanied a body that was unwashed, unclean. The stench was overwhelming, making her stomach rebel and heave. She retched into the dirty palm.

  Hot sticky breath moistened her neck as the attacker spoke against the sensitive curve. "Lookee what I fine, Philipe. I believe is da tavern wench. Lil lady thought she too good for us, din she?"

  The voice was absolutely emotionless, and it chilled her. Elizabeth recognized it immediately. Her attacker was one of the obnoxious men that had been in the tavern earlier. Fear knotted her insides, and panic like she'd never known before welled in her throat. Had they waited all this time for her to leave, lingering in the shadows of the darkened alley until she could be caught alone and unsuspecting?

  Elizabeth's mind frantically searched for a means out of her dilemma. She struggled against her captor, but his grip was unbreakable. A burly arm around her waist held her confined. His other hand prevented her from verbalizing her attack and alerting anyone to the fact that she needed help. Not that it would have made a difference; no one would come to her aid. People didn't go out after dark, not even to save helpless females.

  The one called Philipe stepped in front of her, a toothless smile lighting his stubbled face. He reeked of whiskey and tobacco. The stale smell of his breath enveloped her when he spoke.

  "We check da brothel." He gestured down the street with a meaty finger. "Couldna fine any as pritty as ye, so we thought we jus wait 'til ye was finish workin'. Thought ye'd like to entertain us a while." He reached out a grubby paw and roughly palmed one of her breasts.

  Elizabeth kicked at him with the pointed toe of her shoe, aiming at the sensitive area between his thighs. She wanted nothing more than to connect with that tender spot in his groin. The blow would send a firework explosion of pain through his body, temporarily rendering him helpless. Then, maybe she could escape from the man holding her captive. But it was not to be. He laughed wickedly and easily dodged her kick.

  Philipe whistled, "Whew! Feisty lil thin', aren't ye?"

  His broken English made Elizabeth's stomach knot with fear. He sounded like a sailor or seaman. They could do whatever they wanted to her, kill her even, and then board a ship and leave. No one would ever know. She would disappear forever, becoming another unsolved missing person file cluttering the constable's desk. The thought made her heart drop to her knees.

  The other man was growing impatient. "Quit foolin' roun', Philipe! We need to git her to da boat an git outta here!" His voice was hard and ruthless.

  Elizabeth shriveled a little at the lack of sympathy. She felt the nauseating sinking of despair and disgust. She knew what they would do to her. They would ravish her body, probably cut her throat, and dump her into the cold waters of the Seine River when they were finished. Although she wasn't sure which order the events would occur, Elizabeth knew she'd much rather be dead first. She didn't think she could survive the anguish of having her body violated by the likes of them.

  Grasping her about the ankles, Philipe helped his comrade carry her towards the docks. She racked her brain for a means of escape, but there simply was none. She'd have a hard enough time getting away from one determined man, let alone two.

  The air near the docks was fresh and cold. It stung her nostrils as she struggled to breathe. The hand remained like a steel clamp across her mouth, locked and secure.

  Elizabeth could hear the icy waves slapping against the sides of the ships on the wharf. The sound was foreboding, since learning to swim had never been a big priority in her busy schedule. She imagined frosty fingers from the darkened waters reaching out to pull her under the choppy surface, drawing her into a wet grave. The thought terrified her, causing her to struggle all the more.

  As they carried her onto a small dinghy, Elizabeth realized that she had to do something fast. If they succeeded in getting her onto that boat and departing the slip... Her mind conjured up horrible images of what they might do once they reached their destination. The sickening reality of her situation made her insides wilt.

  Even if she managed to escape by jumping from the floating vessel, it would result in almost certain and immediate death. Neither outcome looked promising. No, she had to escape now. It was the only option.

  Seizing her one opportunity, Elizabeth bit dow
n hard on the hand covering her lips. She had to fight the urge to vomit when her mouth filled with the foul taste of dirty skin, but it worked. The startled man yelped and loosened his grip.

  Then, she kicked at Philipe as hard as she could. The bottom of her shoes connected with his chest, sending him reeling backwards into the boat. He landed with a surprised "oomph!"

  She didn't wait for him to get up. As soon as her feet landed on the ground, Elizabeth elbowed the man holding her from behind. She heard the air rush from his lips as she caught the unsuspecting fellow in the solar plexus, doubling him over with breathless pain. Shoving as hard as she could, she knocked him off balance and into the frigid water.

  Before her ears registered the splash as his body was enveloped by the darkness, Elizabeth made her escape. Hiking her ankle length dress up to her knees, she leaped from the boat and took off running.

  If the drunken man in the water had been her only concern, she could have easily out-distanced him before he managed to pull himself back onto the dock. But then there was Philipe, who apparently wasn't as drunk as she had thought. As soon as he regained his footing, he gave chase, quickly overtaking her.

  The air was ripped from her throat as the weight of Philipe's large body hit her, forcefully taking her down to the ground. Elizabeth rolled onto her side, inhaling deeply to refill her lungs. But he was upon her, slapping her repeatedly and screaming in his off-color accent.

  "Where ye goin'? Huh? Anser me, ye lil bitch! We ain' through wit ye!"

  He struck her over and over, until her ears rang and she felt unconsciousness gripping her brain. Then, as though a great wind had blown by, Philipe was lifted from her body. Elizabeth heard the startled gasp in his voice when he saw his attacker. The sounds of a struggle reverberated through her hazy awareness, and then...silence.

  From the recesses of the darkened alley, Adrien watched the young woman approach. His gaze was sharp and assessing, carefully taking in every detail of her delicate form. A faint light twinkled in the depth of his blue eyes, making them sparkle like icy sapphires. He felt the current of some unidentifiable emotion ripple through his chest. It was an unsettling sensation.

  He took note of her slender hips and tiny waist. She was petite and flower-like, with firm, high-perched breasts. The material of her plain green dress clung to her form, suggesting the luscious curves beneath. The lace at her throat was slightly parted, revealing the soft shadows of her bosom.

  His tall, black-clad figure stiffened as her footsteps brought her within inches of his hidden visage. He could reach out and touch her soft skin, if he so chose. Adrien looked on with appreciation as the same cool breeze that ruffled his long, unbound, wavy black hair, blew tiny tendrils of golden curls about her face like a wispy halo. Unaware that he shared her solitude, she continued past him, on her way to a destination known only to her.

  Adrien's powerful, well-muscled body moved with easy grace. Like a cat, he silently followed her, carefully remaining a safe distance lest she turn and see him. He was the master of illusion, skillfully blending in with the dark surroundings and becoming invisible in the still, black night.

  His head was puzzled by new thoughts, and vague memories of emotions swirled in his brain. His chest swelled with a feeling he had believed long dead. An eternity had passed since he'd felt anything beyond coldness, emptiness, and loneliness.

  Perhaps it was only physical attraction. He did find her seductive young body quite appealing. Yes, that must be it. These strange and unsettling feelings were of desire, nothing more, certainly nothing mortal. That part of him had died many years ago.

  The fragrance of a flowery perfume floated to his nostrils on the tail of a cool breeze. Adrien closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. The heady aroma of delicate jasmine and soft water lilies permeated his every pore, saturating his empty soul with her alluring essence.

  His curiosity, as well as certain aspects of his male anatomy, became aroused. Who was this creature? How had just a glimpse of her lovely visage invaded his dark existence, stroking cords deep within him?

  She radiated vitality that drew him like a magnet. The very air around her seemed electrified, and tiny sparks of energy reached out to him, offering a taste of her spirit. Adrien absorbed them with fevered urgency, hungrily devouring their incredible strength.

  He felt an unwelcome surge of excitement. If his heart had not ceased beating at the time of his rebirth, he imagined it would now be pounding through his chest. A delightful shiver of desire coursed through him, driving him forward.

  Adrien's pace quickened, closing the gap between them. Laying claim to her body and soul, he knew he had to have her. First, he would sample her softness, and then he would taste her essence, taking his fill of her life force. It called him, taunted him, and beckoned him to hurry.

  He was within a few feet of her now. His hand reached outward, ready to halt her step, when he felt the invading presence of another. Quietly receding into the darkness, Adrien waited for the intruder to manifest.

  The figures of two men separated from the shadows. He watched as one quickly grabbed the young woman. Holding her firmly about the waist with one strong arm, the attacker's other hand silenced her screams while his comrade proceeded to grope her breast.

  Adrien's features clouded in anger, quickly transforming into the beast within. When crossed, his temper could be almost uncontrollable, a vortex of fury. Who did these scoundrels think they were? She was his conquest, his joie de vivre.

  He seethed with mounting rage as the two men proceeded to drag the struggling woman away. His eyes glowed a deep royal blue, and his lips thinned with anger, pulling back to reveal sharp, fang-like teeth. His nostrils flared with outrage, blowing out puffs of white smoke as he exhaled forcefully. Trying to maintain control, he pursued the struggling trio towards the docks.

  Although the two men were large and sturdy, their bulky frames moved clumsily as they fought to keep the woman quiet and load her onto the dinghy. Adrien had no doubt he could overtake them both, but he didn't want to risk losing her in the process. Waiting for the right moment to attack, he forced himself to remain calm and bid his time.

  Although she was much smaller than her attackers, the woman resisted and fought fiercely. Adrien found himself admiring her courage. Most women would have resolved into tears by now. But not this one—she fought all the more vehemently.

  He tried to ignore the mocking voice inside that wondered if perhaps all of his human attributes weren't absent after all. Could this one female penetrate the walls of evil and darkness that he'd so carefully built around the last mortal thread in his body? Could she awaken emotions and feelings that he'd painstakingly suppressed for over a century?

  Before his lips could voice the denial, his mind had already come to the conclusion: yes. The admission was dredged from a place beyond logic and reason. He knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that she was his destiny, if he chose to accept it. The question was: Did he dare?

  Pulling his wandering thoughts together, Adrien concentrated on the task at hand. There would be time to pursue those questions later. Right now, he had to dispose of those two vagabonds and remove her from the current dilemma.

  Just as the two rogues attempted to load her onto a small, docked vessel, his opportunity arose. He wasn't sure how, but she had managed to free herself from both men. And on top of that, she had disoriented them, giving him a deliciously unfair advantage. One man fell awkwardly into the dinghy, while his comrade tumbled backwards into the river.

  Wasting no time, Adrien emerged from his hiding spot in a blur. His lithe body moved with lightening-fast motion. Within seconds, he reached the first man. Roughly yanking the soggy form from the river, he quickly dispensed with him, twisting his neck in an abnormal fashion.

  As the stranger's lifeless body fell to the ground, Adrien turned his attention to the retreating backside of the other. His lips curled back in a menacing snarl, allowing his brilliantly white teeth to glisten in the moonlight. Bloodlust filled his thoughts, sending the hunger coursing through his veins. He approached his next victim with eager anticipation of the kill.

  Elizabeth rolled onto her hands and knees, still gasping for air. Her head was pounding, and she felt dangerously close to fainting. As she looked up, expecting to be the next victim of attack, she saw it, or rather him.