Ever
Standing at the top of the lecture hall, Ever wished she were anywhere but there. Her mind kept drifting back to Derek’s voicemail. She hadn’t responded—it was best not to. Things she used to get heaps of joy from now made her feel listless. Her mouth moved, lecture words spewing out, yet no passion flowed. Her students were starting to notice. They’d asked her numerous times if she were okay.
I need to get my shit together.
You really do, darling. This attitude is not becoming.
Oh, shut up!
The voice in her head chuckled, and Ever grimaced. My God, this was getting so frustrating. Her muscles ached from her early morning run, and all she wanted was to go home, sink into a nice warm bath, and shut out the world. She wished she could escape to an island and ignore the impending doom that constantly weighed on her heart.
Darling, if you only said the words, then you could be dipping your toes into a sea of turquoise tranquillity on the shores of your home. Imagine how good it would feel to have the sand between your toes as you inhaled the salty air. Kyria, think about it. Say the words. Go on, I dare you.
“Ever? You okay?”
Blinking, Ever concentrated on the here and now. All twenty of the students in her first-year class stared down at her. Suddenly extremely hot, she removed her jacket and hung it on the back of her chair, yanking her T-shirt free of her indigo jeans. Running her fingers through her hair, she beamed at her students, feeling like a complete fake as she said, “Sorry guys, blonde moment. Now, where was I?”
“You were just explaining the origins of vampirism.”
“Ah, yes.” She sighed, walking around the stage in order to try and cull the restlessness in her spirit. “The vampire communities are not particularly forthcoming with their origin stories. Many will give you differing tales of who was the first vampire. Can anyone tell me which character is the most popular choice for the first vampire in history?”
An array of hands shot into the air, and Ever pointed to a young harpy called Sheila.
“Many think that Vlad the Impaler is the first recorded vampire to walk the earth.”
“Very good, Sheila,” Ever praised, resting her butt on her desk as she continued. “But as you said, Vlad the Impaler is the first recorded vampire to walk the earth. His story, though, is an interesting one.
“Written records claim a soldier saw Vlad Tepes strike down his enemies before he was dealt the blow that ended his mortal life. Vlad Tepes—better known to most as Vlad the Impaler—was so strong willed and eager for vengeance that as the blood of his enemies seeped into his wounds, it melded with his cells and he was reborn. His spree of death and bloodshed did indeed become the inspiration for Bram Stoker’s Dracula, yet I have never been able to confirm that he was truly the first vampire. As I said, vampires are not very forthcoming with religion.”
The class laughed as she smiled. “And before you ask, yes, this will be on the Christmas test, so study up.” Their laughter turned into groans, causing her to grin more.
I like this vicious streak in you, Kyria. I like it very much.
Ignoring the voice in her head, Ever went back to her lecture. “Now, Vlad the Impaler might be the first ever recording of a walking, talking vampire, but theories discussed throughout time suggest that the first vampire might have been created by Lucifer himself—the first demon borne of a dark witch’s spell to give Lucifer a foothold on Earth. That dark witch, fearful that Lucifer would take her life once she had created his perfect soldier, cursed the warrior with a lust for blood, an aversion to sunlight, and the ability to be killed with a stake through the heart.”
Pausing, Ever eased herself up onto her desk, her legs dangling over the edge. “Over time, Lucifer realized what the witch had done and approved of her deception. He rewarded her by taking her soul and creating a demon. That demon was Lilith. But back to vampires. Society today looks on vampires as cool and trendy…”
“Apart from sparkly twats in movies!” one of her students shouted.
The whole class, including Ever, erupted in laughter.
“I assure you, Colm, I know a few vampires, and they do not sparkle. Anyway, the origins of vampirism have been the subject of many scholastic papers over the years, so you know what that means, right?”
Another grumble of annoyance rang out through the lecture hall.
“I know, I know… I’m a horrible person. But you can’t be wrong with this paper. I want five thousand words on where you think vampirism stems from. Don’t take the mick and tell me Kiefer Sutherland is the granddaddy of vampires or any of that. All relevant ideas are valid and will be taken into consideration for your final marks.”
Ever watched them scribble furiously in their notebooks, writing down her instructions. Once it appeared that most were finished, she continued.
“This is due in exactly one month. Take your time and research. If you have any questions, you know where my office is. Reference your work, and I can find out if you plagiarized previous papers—I have a friend with mad computer skills. Now, go forth and be awesome.”
Ever waved them out and slid off the table, moving around to her chair. She rested her head in her hands and sighed. Keeping everything to herself was exhausting. Memories kept her awake at night, and when she did sleep, nightmares plagued her. Blood, so much blood and death it made images of Vlad the Impaler’s victims look like a Christmas pantomime.
“Professor Chace?”
Ever’s head snapped up, and the freshman jumped back. “Yes, Sheila? How can I help you?”
The girl blushed furiously, which caught Ever’s eye; it was unusual for a harpy to be so quiet and timid. “I just wanted to ask… I know you have connections in the police, and I just wanted to know what classes I need to retain next semester to better my chances of getting in?”
Ever gave her a small smile. “Sure, my… my… godfather runs the P.I.T. office in Cork. I can ask him what he requires and let you know.”
“Thank you. Sorry to interrupt.”
“You’re not interrupting at all. I’ll let you know when I get the chance to speak to him.”
The girl scurried off, and Ever rested her head against the desk. She inhaled, then exhaled, over and over until she felt some resemblance of calm. She needed to get a grip. This wasn’t her. Too many things were happening with not enough time to mull them over. Tired, she was so tired. She’d rest her eyes for just a minute. Just a minute.
The air fled from her lungs as she slammed backwards into the sand, her bones screaming in torture.
“Again!”
The command came from her mother, the warrior goddess who had managed to put her in the sand more times than she could count. She was tired and wanted to play with her friends, not learn to wield a sword like her mother. And oh, if Ever dared to call her mother! Each time, she was lashed until the slip of tongue was apologized for. She would never call her by that name again.
“Freya, I don’t want to train today. Can I just go and play like the rest of my friends?”
Freya tsked, the tip of her sword pressing against the tip of her daughter’s chin. “You are not like those girls, Ever. You will be queen. A queen does not rule by playing silly games and ignoring her training. You must wield the sword as if it is an extension of yourself, for it may one day save your life. A whiney princess cannot rule a kingdom, despite what her father has decreed. Now, get up.”
The last words were snarled as Freya removed the sword and braced herself to attack. With a kip up, Ever’s bare feet landed in the sand. Her wrist rotated, her sword moving around with the action. Ever had spent so much time training with Freya that she knew exactly which side her mother would aim for first.
Freya lashed out with her steel, and the thunderous clash as the two swords came together could be heard across the island. Ever stabbed, slashed, and swiped her blade over and over again. Freya would not stop until Ever drew blood, which Ever had learned the hard way as a child. Freya had fought her once for almost a full day and night, relenting only when Ever had weakly slashed Freya’s thigh with her sword. Her feet had been blistered, as had her hands, but when Ever had finally bled her, Freya had merely nodded and walked away, leaving her exhausted on the shores of Valhalla. Now several years older, Ever had learned that her mother would only halt when Ever stopped defending herself and attacked.
Lightning flashed in the sky, and Freya’s attention wavered. Ever shifted her weight and lunged, the blade sinking into Freya’s shoulder. Her mother winced as Ever withdrew her sword. Freya faced her with a snarl on her face, but Ever dropped her sword and raced towards the man who strode across the sands.
Throwing her arms around the bearded man, Ever whispered into his ear, “I’ve missed you, Papa.”
“And I have missed you, my princess. Come, let me tell you all the tales and stories of the gods in Asgard.”
As she snuggled into the embrace of the father she loved so much, Ever prayed to the gods that Odin would whisk her away from her cruel mother and lavish her with the time and love Freya refused to show her.
Ever jerked awake, shock causing her to tremble from head to toe. Odin had once been loving? More so than Freya? What had happened to make the man so cruel and vicious? Ever didn’t understand… didn’t want to understand. Because now, in her heart, she remembered what it was like to be loved by Odin, not despised and hunted.
“Ever.”
Her gaze darted up the stairs and found Derek at the top, a simple dark tee and jeans moulded to his body. The sight flooded Ever with memories of when delicious Derek Doyle had sauntered into her classroom the first time. His brown eyes flickered with shades of amber as his lips tugged up into a slow, easy smile. Ever hadn’t been in the same room as him since the night she’d told him she wanted space, and that earthy scent of his, like a forest in the rain, melted her resistance.
“Derek, hi.”
“Sorry for just showing up like this. I’m on a case and had to come here to follow a lead.”
She swept a blonde strand from her face. “That’s okay. I meant to text you back but I’ve been swamped.”
Holding up a brown paper bag with the school’s logo, Derek began to speak as he descended the stairs. “I know you’re busy, but according to Norma, you have no class until half one. So I took a chance and brought you some lunch.”
Darling man.
“And how, pray tell, did you manage to charm Norma into giving you information about my schedule?”
Derek shrugged. “I do have some charm. Not much, but enough to get by.” He stopped just shy of her desk. “May I?”
“Of course.”
He grabbed the chair usually reserved for teaching assistants and set it across the desk from her. Ever’s hands still trembled, yet now they trembled from being so near to Derek. She wanted to kiss him, touch him, run her fingers through his hair.
Derek went about removing items from the bag. He set out a sandwich and a cup of fruit, along with a bottle of cola that she loved. Then he took out a sandwich for himself and a packet of crisps. Opening the bag, he set it in the middle for them to share.
They ate in silence for a couple of minutes, and Ever could feel Derek watching her as she kept her own eyes on her food. After demolishing his sandwich, Derek sat back in his chair, doing his best to appear calm and nonthreatening. Like that was even possible.
Coiled muscle tensed beneath that tee, honed from work with P.I.T. and years of getting himself ready to fight Neville Morris, the wolf who had made him. Biceps twitched as he folded his hands behind his head and closed his eyes, inhaling.
“You’re staring.”
“No, I’m not,” Ever blurted out. “How can you tell, anyway, with your eyes closed and all that?”
“Because anytime you look at me, my entire body ignites.”
Ever felt the corners of her mouth tug up. “You so stole that from a romance novel.”
Derek opened his eyes to look at her, and she gulped as his eyes flared amber. “Ricky may or may not have lectured me on ways to win you ‘round.”
“Derek,” she exhaled. “You don’t have to win me around. I do love you, really. I just need time.”
Resting his palms on his thighs, Derek angled a smidge closer before he continued. “I’ve been thinking. You and me, what we need to do is start slow. A date, a movie… hell, I’d settle for a long walk down the marina. Nothing heavy, nothing confusing, I promise. I just want… I need to spend time with you.”
Ever chewed on her bottom lip as she considered his proposal. Would it be so hard, spending time with Derek? Could she be around him without the truth slipping free from her lips? Would it be possible to keep things from Derek if she were around him frequently?
“Ever?”
“I’m sorry. I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”
Derek reclined in the chair again. “What’s making you reluctant? Is it me? Or are you still hung up on the fact that I won’t age, and that you will?”
How could she tell him that’s not what she was worried about, that they could have a forever if only Odin didn’t kill them first?
“I,” she began, unsure as to how to answer. “No, that doesn’t bother me anymore.” Truth. She just had to manoeuvre around the truth. “I’m sorry that I’ve pushed you away. Meeting you, mating with you, and discovering all these things about myself has left my mind a little confused. Something had to give.”
“Okay,” Derek said without missing a beat, “what can I do to help you through this?”
If she weren’t already in love with him, then he was doing a damn good job of ensuring that she would be.
“It’s nothing you can do, Derek. Rather something I have to do myself. But I appreciate the offer. Maybe we could go slowly, go for dinner or a movie?”
“I can do that. I can seriously do that.”
He gave her a wry smile, snagged a crisp, and popped it in his mouth. Ever waited as he finished. “I’ve a hard case this time ‘round, so it might be a few days before we get enough of a break in the case to have some free time. If I call, will you answer your phone?”
“I promise.”
“Okay then.” Derek rubbed his palms down the leg of his jeans as if he’d been sweating. “Even if I finish early, perhaps we could get some takeout and have a quiet night in?”
His phone shrilled then, and he pulled it out of his pocket. “Yeah, Ricky, what’s up?”
Ever relaxed back into her own chair, eyes glancing up to check the time. Her students would start arriving in less than ten minutes. She got up off her seat and began to tidy up the rubbish on her desk as Derek listened intently to his call. She missed the guys from the team, but being around them again might put them in danger, and if someone got hurt because of her, then Ever would never be able to live with herself.
“Ever.”
The shock of Derek’s voice right behind her spun her around quickly, and there he was, within touching distance. She breathed in the scent of him and couldn’t resist reaching out and placing her palm over his heart. It thudded rapidly under her touch, and she wanted to stay there for a while.
“Ever,” Derek repeated, “I have to go. I’m glad we could spend this time together. I’ll text you later.”
He bent down and placed a kiss to her cheek before stepping back and letting her hand fall to her side. Then he climbed the stairs two at a time until he disappeared out the door.
Do you think he would spurn you? Blame you for a curse that tied you together for centuries? As I recall, you chose him as your champion because he challenged you. You need to snap out of the pity party and prepare yourself. He wakes.
If you want to be helpful, Whoever You Are, then tell me who you are. Why torment me like this when you could face me?
The voice went silent as the door to the lecture hall opened again and students began to file in. Ever straightened her posture, composed a smile, and looked out at her class.
“Right lads, let’s talk class projects. Criminal case studies—who’s picked a research topic already?”
Hands lifted into the air, and she pointed to them one by one. Martin’s answer surprised her most. He wanted to review the Stephen Donnelly murders, and he asked if Ever could arrange an interview with P.I.T. for him. He also asked to interview her since Ever was listed as a witness in the case.
The day went rapidly downhill from there.
His skin itched, burning him down to the bone. She hadn’t been enough. She’d been powerful, but the energy he’d syphoned from the dragon had quickly flushed through his system and now he needed more. Her lust, her fear, had sweetened the coupling, but the returning bitterness as he came down from the high enraged him.
Slamming his fists into the wall, cement crumbling under the force of the blow, he screamed in agony as need drove him to the brink of insanity. He had to find someone powerful enough to sustain him, to stop him from killing again, but was that what he really wanted? The thrill of willing partners had long since dissipated. Now he was consumed with the need to drain his victims dry, obsessed with the ecstasy of pulling everything they were, everything that made them powerful, into himself.
He couldn’t sate the hunger… didn’t want to…
He liked the high that came from taking a life.
He liked the monster he’d become.