Immortal Love by Carmen Ferreiro-Esteban

Author:Carmen Ferreiro-Esteban [Ferreiro-Esteban, Carmen]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: romance, paranormal
Publisher: Crimson Romance, an imprint of F+W Media, Inc.
Published: 2012-09-17T07:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eleven: Bécquer’s Request

I tried to write after Ryan left but couldn’t. The bizarre events of the last twenty-four hours continued to play in my mind — as they had through the long sleepless night I had endured — blocking my creativity. At times elated, at times overwhelmed by the memories, I found it impossible to concentrate on my writing. So, eventually I gave up and went for a ride.

That I ended up in the parking lot overlooking the dam in Lake Galena was not planned, yet it seemed inevitable. Two other cars were there when I arrived. But not Bécquer’s. My disappointment at Bécquer’s not surprising absence was all too real to ignore. Yet absurd.

I locked my car and went down the bank to the gravel strip by the water where Ryan and Bécquer had come ashore.

A heron, white and slender, walked the shore hunting for food. The heron I had described in the manuscript Bécquer had agreed to represent. Was it only the previous morning I had signed my contract with him?

But for the heron, the place was deserted. The boats and canoes that dotted the lake in summer were grounded ashore on the crescent-shaped inlet to my left. And the owners of the cars sitting by mine were nowhere in sight.

Turning my back to the lake, I walked to the bench Bécquer and I had shared the previous night and sat down.

The weather had been unusually mild this past October and the trees had just reached their full autumn colors, but the stunning beauty of my surroundings failed to impress me.

Maybe it was because the effect of Bécquer’s blood had worn off during the night, and after perceiving the world through immortal senses, it seemed dull now that I was seeing it with my human eyes. Maybe it was, plain and simply, because Bécquer was not with me and I wished he were.

Which, again, was absurd.

I barely knew Bécquer. I had met him only on three occasions and always at a professional level. Bécquer was my agent. Only as such had he invited me to his party. Yet, the intensity of his stare when he ordered me to drink his blood, back in his room was filled with the passion of a lover. Or was my memory deceiving me matching my own desires?

I got up abruptly and dashed up the path that led to the dam. The gates were closed now and, unlike the whirlwind of emotions fighting in my mind, the water was still. Neither down at ground level, nor up where I stood on the walkway, did I see any sign of Ryan’s brush with death, nor of Bécquer’s confrontation with Beatriz. As far as the world was concerned, it could all have been a dream.

But it had not been.

Ryan had almost died there the previous night, and I, after knowing Bécquer for less than a day, had become obsessed with him. How stupid could I be? Bécquer was a 200-year-old man who drank human blood and manipulated people’ wills.

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