“What is it?”
“I’m simply remembering my responsibilities and mentally putting my affairs in order. Are you almost ready to leave?”
She looked around her apartment. “I’m ready.”
“Do you not wish to take any of your belongings with us?”
“I want a fresh start. I don’t want to take anything that reminds me of my old life or what I’ve escaped or why I ran.”
Grateful for her agreeable nature and open mind, he kissed her again. “I’ll make it my life’s ambition to ensure you never have the instinct to run away again.”
She smiled and wrapped her arms around him, hugging him tightly. The open show of affection startled him, and he slowly hugged his arms around her, pressing his lips into her hair.
“Our life will be happy, Larissa. I swear it.”
It was early morning when they reached Lancaster. The sky was still dark and birds rested in the trees. Dried leaves covered the frozen ground in a soft blanket that crunched underfoot.
A large fallen branch blocked their path. Eleazar used telekinesis to push the obstacle out of the way and called on the wind to clear the land of dried leaves.
Desiring to impress Larissa, he focused his energy on the gray sky and called upon snow flurries. White flakes sifted toward the ground in a delicate show.
She smiled and looked up, extending her arms outward beneath the wintery sky, and twirled like an angel, facing him again with a radiant smile. “You’re amazing.”
“Parlor tricks.”
“Can you teach me?”
He’d teach her anything she wished to know. “Of course. We can practice once we’re settled at home.”
“I suppose I’ll live with you now.”
“Yes.” She’d never sleep under anyone else’s roof again.
“I’m actually quite anxious to return to the farm. I miss my family.”
His footsteps slowed and he wondered if she understood what was happening with her parents. If Adriel was right and Jonas Hartzler was, in fact, being called, Larissa would be devastated.
She glanced at him, already so in tune with his moods. “What is it, Eleazar?”
He drew in a breath, hating to cause her stress, when a branch snapped in the distance. His back straightened and his muscles tensed, his senses growing instantly more alert. “Shh. I hear something.”
She stilled and silently waited, her eyes searching the nearby trees.
They were not alone. He scented the air, and his blood chilled. “Vampire.”
When she sucked in a breath, he pressed a finger to his mouth, motioning for her to stay silent. The scent was clearly male. Her hand squeezed in his as his brows drew tight, his senses tracking the intruder and gauging its nearness. She understood, as a female, she was in greater danger than him.
I’ll protect you. He sent the thought to her and her body relaxed.
Still on guard, he scanned the area. Another branch snapped and he sprung.
Don’t move! The swift mental command to stay put was delivered in a hard, unmistakable order.
Eleazar chased the scent, leaping swiftly through the trees and branches, racing far away from where Larissa stood. He gave chase, abandoning his mate to find and disarm the threat, and then suffered a terrifying thought.
What if the predator was deliberately trying to draw Eleazar away from Larissa? Whatever he was chasing possessed incredible speed. Miles doubled as the distance between them stretched. He could not go any farther without leaving her dangerously unprotected.
Dropping to the earth in a crouch, his clothing torn to ribbons from racing through the trees, he growled and scanned the area through glowing eyes. “Show yourself!”
Leaves crunched and the wind screeched. An enormous sycamore groaned and creaked, falling with an unstoppable force and rocked the earth with an explosive bang. Animals squawked and scurried to safety. The forest floor vibrated from the intense timber landing.
Eleazar? Larissa’s mind reached for his.
I’m safe. Stay where you are.
His head jerked toward the crackle of crunching leaves. Dust settled beyond the scrabble of roots now protruding from the earth, and a gnarled, wild figure appeared.
As the silhouette took shape, Eleazar squinted against the approaching dawn, scenting the tinge of aged human blood in the air.
Thick, corded muscle wrapped every limb of the approaching feral male. Long, matted hair hung in snarls down its back and over its face. The stench was wild and gamy, fresh blood mixing with predatory sprays warning him that he was not welcome here. The rogue would view him as an intruder and threat, and he would not back off until one of them was destroyed.
“Who are you?”
A flash of fangs and a feral growl. The rogue let out a hungry snarl and raised its claws, curling his fingers into talons and preparing for a fight. Vampire.
Eleazar’s focus divided between protecting his mate and surviving. It had been centuries since he was in a physical altercation, but his age gave him some advantages. However, nothing compared to the strength of a feeish vampire slaked on mortal blood.