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that."
"It's okay, lover," I said, leaning over the couch and taking her face in my hands. "And no, you haven't been a bitch to me. I've been dealing with my own shit lately, and I took some of it out on you. I should be the one apologizing, not you."
I kissed her lips, and looked out at the spread before her. Decaffeinated tea, a magazine, a book, the TV remote.
I told her about the strange new vampire, Kole, and and mentioned her strange behavior around Cholena.
"They seemed to know each other," I said. "And then we heard Satira calling for Cholena. I have my suspicions."
"It is odd," she said. "Why do all these vampires come to you? And then David and Cholena show up? And then Satira? It's weird."
"It's a mystery," I agreed. I updated her on Grandfather's condition, and then she fell asleep. I carried her upstairs to our new bed-a king size. It dwarfed her when she laid in it. I preened her while she slept, stroking her hair and admiring her collarbone and her cleavage. I looked around. I decided to clean up a bit-dirty clothes in the hamper, books on shelves or on the side table, notebooks and laptops on the desk, shoes in the closet, makeup put away...and then I saw her purse.
I'd gone through her purse before, and I always hated myself afterwards for invading her privacy. A woman's purse is sacred. This week's edition was a Louis Vuitton Speedy in 35, so Sarah had told me when she pulled it out of the closet. Her purses always were bigger than she seemed to need them to be.
Just a peek.
I took in a deep gulp of air, then opened the mouth of the bag. I saw all the usuals-her wallet, her makeup bag, and...was that a gun?!
It was, it was a gun. A Glock. I opened it up. No bullets. But there was a box of bullets in her purse. Why did she have this? She was surrounded by vampires, people who would protect her, gladly give their lives for her. Maybe she needed this for extra security?
I knew she carried a small knife around, but I'd never have thought of her as a gun carrier. I kept looking. Old water bottles, extra keys, lipstick, lotion, hand sanitizer, extra cash, movie tickets...movie tickets? Huh. I hadn't gone to the movies with her, and we hadn't seen any of our friends from school since we graduated.
I kept looking for any sign, any evidence. I found one other odd thing: a flip cell phone, the old kind that was used twenty years ago. Stomach twisting into a knot, I carefully put everything back where I'd found it and got ready for bed.

CHAPTER FIVE - SUSPICION
She was up before me. I woke up around noon, feeling refreshed. I hissed slightly at the bright sun streaming in from the cracks in the blinds. Sarah was sitting in her reading chair, playing on her regular phone.
I was thirsty, but she was more important. I crawled out of bed and slowly slid along the carpet on my belly. When I reached her toes, I nibbled them, and she giggled.
"Don't chip the paint, Reese," she gently chided.
"What color are we this week?" I teased, looking at her toes. "Oh, gold and silver? Gold on one toe, silver on the others?"
"I couldn't decide which color I wanted to paint them," she explained. "And I was sick of red polish."
"How are the babies?" I asked.
"They want greasy food. Hash browns, bacon, eggs with cheese and peppers."
"You're half-Jewish," I noted.
"I meant turkey bacon. I'm not the type to cheat at anything, except tests and sales."
My heart wrenched at that. I swallowed the lump in my throat and forced myself to sit up beside her. She noticed there was something amiss.
"Reese? What's wrong?" she asked, her pretty brows furrowed.
"Sarah, I...I...I can't...I found your gun."
She blinked. "Oh."
"I smelled the gunpowder and I just..."
"You went through my purse."
"Yes."
She sighed. "Well, I can understand that. I should have been more careful where I left it."
"Sarah, why do you have that gun? You have more protection than anyone in the world."
"I can't let anyone else die. Not without a reason."
"Protecting you is not a good enough reason?"
"Definitely not. I won't have more people die because of me or Sabine."
"Sweet, lovely, angelic Sarah, it's not your fault. None of it is."
She sniffled. "I read Mom's diary after...well...I'm cursed."
I couldn't move at that. "C-cursed?"
She nodded. "I was supposed to die on my sixteenth birthday, but Daddy died instead. He pretended to have cancer so there was a sensible reason for his death. No one else should have to die because of me."
"Sarah...." I swallowed. I looked down at my hands, then her. "Who?"
"Who, what?"
"Who cursed you?"
"I don't know. I know that I was betrothed to Caden when we were younger, but now, I have you. I would rather die than have anyone else."
I was touched by her devotion and selflessness. She continued.
"You protected me. You avenged me. You kept me safe when no one else could or would. You loved me even though I'm not perfect. I adore and love you, Reese. I have for a long time."
I wrapped my arms around her in a fantastic embrace and kissed her roughly. Eventually, she needed to breathe, and I pulled away.
"Sarah, you don't need to be perfect to be loved. Just be yourself. Anyone would love you then. Even serial killers have their multiple admirers."
She smiled weakly at that, and hugged me tighter. Then she winced.
"Ow, my back," she complained.
"Is it your wings?" I asked, cautiously.
"More between my shoulder blades. Oh crap." She ran to the bathroom, and I heard vomiting. I went dowstairs and heated up some blood for myself, then brought some tea for Sarah. She was busy brushing the yuckiness out of her mouth when I returned. She smiled when I brought her the tea. "Reese, you're a saint."
She laid down in bed on her side, and I brought her a bucket. She asked me to read to her, so I did that for a while, until she threw up again and had to run to the bathroom to clean out her mouth again. Zie brought some buttered toast and a sachet of herbs she said were meant to help pregnant women.
Amazingly, the smell of the herbs did calm Sarah down, but they also made her sleepy. She slept for a while, then woke up and started crying and complaining that she was wasting her life away by sleeping. I cooed to her and whispered calming things to her...well, I tried. She cried harder after I said something about looking tired.
"I'm not pretty anymore!" she sobbed. "I'm fat and ugly! And my sister hates me! My parents are vampires, and the Abrahams won't even talk to me because I'm with a vampire!"
"Honey, it's all right," I urged. I hated the thought of it, but I considered using hypnosis to calm her down. She was starting to upset me.
"What did you do?!" Selena asked, finally opening the door.
"I didn't do anything!" I said. "She just started getting upset after her nap!"
"How long did she sleep?"
"Three hours!"
Sarah sobbed harder and finally, Mother burst in and I was promptly thrown out of the room.
If anyone can calm her down, it's Mother, I thought. She adores her.
I went into a spare room and turned on the TV. I watched the news for a while, then switched to cartoons. But I couldn't laugh, because my thoughts were on my fiancee. I could hear her simpering soprano voice as Selena's alto urged her to keep calm. Then I heard something I didn't want to hear.
What if my babies die?
I couldn't bear the thought of losing any of them. Not Sarah, not Caitlin Juniper, not Joseph. I loved my children so much already that just the thought of living without them was unbearable. This had to be our fate. I'd even seen the future, a future with all of us together and happy. I had thought it was a new gift at first, but maybe it wasn't. Maybe it was just Fate. However, I hadn't taken my grandfather's slow descent into dust into account, or Sarah's emotional state, or David, or Satira.
I hadn't seen as much of my brother as I would have liked, and I'd already seen all I wished to see of Satira.
I needed a mentor, someone to guide me when things got rough. I couldn't count on Father, he was too emotionally invested, especially with David now here. And Uncle Soren was far too unstable, and Louis would just make things worse. I considered Krauvas, but remembered that he was Mason's father, and I did not want to see Mason yet.
I considered my options, which were few and far between. Grandfather was dying. I could go to Alexander...I shuddered at the thought of asking him for advice. Truthfully, I never had great role models. I had to learn how to keep a relationship together on my own. I had plenty of role models who taught me how to be a man, but that was it.
I sighed. I had no choice. I had to go to Alexander. I shuddered again at the thought.


I found him in the backyard, overseeing the work being done on the garden. The men had finished laying the stone for a massive pond, and now were laying more brick for a path from the patio to the pond, where we would sit, watch the fish, and maybe have a greenhouse in the future, and a pool.
"The red brick goes there! The hose must be attached to the fountain!"
"Hello, Alexander."
He turned to me and nodded. "Reese."
"I need to ask you something."
"What is it, boy?"
"Actually, I need advice."
He smirked and turned back to the workers. "And you thought I was the best candidate. You refuse to be my son, yet you want my expertise."
I sighed internally. I couldn't believe he was still irked about the fact that I wasn't his biological son. He had been so desperate for both companionship and a son, and he found out about me and decided I would do, that was my theory. I remembered when I first saw him. Sarah was in the hospital, and Alexander spotted me coming out of her room. We had just found out she was pregnant, and he was looking to adopt a baby, anyway, preferably a boy.
Someone he could mold into a version of himself.
"Never mind, I see that this was a mistake." I started to walk away, but guess who grabbed my shoulder? Alexander.
"Now you listen here, boy, and listen carefully. I spent too many years alone. Kieran still hates me, and Marina hated herself too much to be with me for years. You were my last chance to have a legacy, to not be so lonely. I could have killed you for all you know; I should have. Now if you want my advice, you ask for it, you little bastard."
"Let me go!" I tried to pull away, but he tightened his grip and his nails grew, causing me to yelp in pain.
"Ambrogio Nicolai, you let our son go right now!"
If he could, Alexander would have paled. The scariest thing in the world is a protective parent. And my mother stood on the patio, hands on her hips, glaring at her husband.
"Dearest," he simpered. "Reese came to me for advice and mouthed off. So I had to teach him a lesson, you see."
"So you grabbed him and scratched him?"
"Lovely

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