Immortal Obsession Read Online Free PDF Page B

his neatly folded socks. Then, changing his mind, he impulsively grabbed it from the drawer, twisted off the cap, and tapped the vial on his tongue. Easy there, just a little this time. The warm blood oozed down his throat, igniting a fire in his veins. Gaétan sat down on the king-size bed, suddenly dizzy; his head reeled with the now-familiar images from the boy’s life.
    He lay back and closed his eyes, clutching the sheets as a kaleidoscope of sights and sounds filled his head in a rush. The vampire felt his limbs melt into the mattress as his senses heightened, yet his mind felt calm and at peace. I have not felt this way since I was a mortal man , he thought as the blood inside him brought forth the mortality he had long ago lost and strangely missed.
    He rolled onto his side and clutched his stomach as pain burst through his guts. He broke out in a sweat, feeling weak and vulnerable. He knew it would pass and the feeling of humanity rather than his predatory nature as a bloodsucker would fill him up. He felt inhumanly powerful, yet mortal again; a hypnotic, seductive combination of sensations.
    The images of a young girl morphed into a beautiful woman, both elegant and erotic. She stood with her brother in the park, the night he was murdered. He could see the worry and fear on her face. He fought his erection and ejaculation as her voice and smell caressed him, wrapping him in feelings of acceptance, love, and comfort like nothing he had ever known. Her dark green eyes smiled up at him as she bent her neck for him to drink.
    Whether it was the boy’s blood causing these hallucinations or his heart, lonely and desperate for love, did not matter to the ancient vampire. Irrational or not, he had already made up his mind to go to New York to find her.
    I don’t care if Christian is guarding her night and day , he thought as he tried to sit up on the king-size bed. S he will be mine.

Chapter Five

    G AÉTAN SAT UP and glanced at his watch. It was midnight. He jumped up to get ready for Gabrielle’s visit. As he passed Solange’s dressing table, he took note of all her perfumes, makeup, and jewelry haphazardly strewn on the tabletop. She never had been a neat person. Even as a young married woman living in London in the early nineteenth century, she had been a slob. Thankfully she had married well and had household servants. He picked up one of her hairbrushes and ran it under his nose. Just then he heard the lock click, the front door open and close. Like a cool breeze, she enveloped him in her thin arms wrapped around his waist. He let her hold him for a moment.
    “You seem pensive of late, my love.” She whispered into his back, her upper class British accent as sharp as a knife.
    Gaétan closed his eyes, feeling her warm body engorged with blood from feeding pressed up against him. She would want to make love before their night at the opera, and afterward wander the Champs-Élysées until dawn.
    She slipped past him and sat down at her makeup table to brush her thick, brown hair. Turning first one way and then another, she studied her impish profile in the mirror. Gaétan knew she was not sure if she liked either her new bob haircut or the highlights the Avenue Foch salon had convinced her were stylish and made her look younger. The torches burned low, giving her alabaster skin a yellowish tint. She applied a pale pink lipstick, and then blotted her full lips before brushing on mascara and a smoky brown eye shadow that accentuated her luminous brown eyes. Her high cheekbones were flushed from feeding.
    She began to play with the chain of her heart-shaped necklace a gesture Gaétan knew meant she was impatient. Gaétan followed her into her walk-in closet but said nothing as she began flipping through the hangers, eyeing first one gown and then another. Finally she settled on a strapless black satin Dior.
    “Solange, we must talk,” he whispered, checking his watch again. Gabrielle would be there any minute.