11. Three Hundred Years

ELEVEN

three hundred years

Somehow, we end up on the piazza without any recollection of moving from the foyer. I can't take my eyes off the man in front of me. Together, we sit on a large settee, overlooking the colorful backyard.

"How are you here?" I finally gain the courage to repeat.

Thorne looks down before speaking. "Unmask your energy, and feel mine. Then you'll know."

I do as he suggests, reaching for the energy of the man in front of me. I'm instantly met with the same energy I felt earlier. "Oh, my God. You're a vampire. That was you I saw earlier. I didn't imagine it."

"Aye."

"Kragen?"

He shakes his head, stopping the anger from forming. "It wasn't Kragen. It was my choice."

"Your choice? Why? "

"Because it was the only way to find you."

"You…" I stutter. "You willingly changed yourself into a vampire to find me?" The reality of his words hit me. "What the hell were you thinking?" I stand from the settee and move toward the edge of the piazza. "You had a family. You had a wife and a child, and you," I motion to the building surrounding us, "you had a home that you built."

He stands, matching my energy. "You're right, I had all of that, but I didn't have you."

"How could you do that to her? How could you do that to them?"

He sighs. "I was a horrible husband and a subpar father. My wife hated me, and I can't blame her. She was forced to marry me because the man she loved wasn't of her stature."

"He was a merchant," I interrupt, remembering Francis's words from earlier.

"Aye. Her father refused to let them marry. It was him that she loved, not me. I made sure she would be taken care of for the rest of her life. I gave her every penny I had along with this house and the blessing to marry who she truly loved. She gave me her blessing to do what I needed to do. She understood."

"She knew what you were doing? That you were planning on becoming a vampire?"

He closes his eyes. "Aye. It turned out to be the best thing for both of us."

"Francis is your great-great-great-granddaughter. "

"I know," he whispers. "I've watched her off and on for many years."

I fight to keep the tears forming in my eyes from sliding down my cheeks. "Why did you keep yourself hidden from me?" My words feel selfish, leaving my lips.

His gaze softens, sensing my turmoil. "I never stopped searching. I came close to finding you several times, yet you managed to stay one step ahead of me. I never gave up on you. I will never give up on you."

Losing the battle with my tears, they stream down my face, making me feel weak. Something I haven't felt in a very long time.

"I'm so sorry, Elsie. I should've stopped him that day. I was a coward, and it's something I've regretted ever since."

"You survived. That's not being a coward. You brought my family safely here and helped them when no one else would. For that, I thank you. If you would've died that day, they would've too."

He closes his eyes at my words. "It doesn't make it any easier. Three hundred years have passed since I saw him take you. For three hundred years, I've replayed that image in my mind, thinking of the things I should've done."

"You did what you had to do—live. I did what I had to do—survive." I wipe the stains from my cheeks. "How did you find me?"

One side of Thorne's mouth lifts higher than the other. "I come to Charleston every few months to check on Francis."

"She acted like she didn't know you."

"Aye, she doesn't. I stay in the background, never allowing her to see me."

"Until now," I interrupt. "Why?"

"I sensed you. I knew you were here and where you were."

"In your home." I laugh. "I was looking for something to connect me to you."

"You found it." His voice is soft as his eyes peer into mine. "I'm not going anywhere."

I step closer, giving in to the desire of my heart instead of my head. Thorne's energy matches mine. His desire is evident on his face.

"Everything okay in here?" Ms. Francis interrupts. Thorne steps back, putting distance between the two of us.

"Just catching up," he says. "You were right. This piazza is lovely this time of year."

She claps her hands. "I agree." She turns toward me. "Elsie, dear. I took the liberty of putting your bag back in the honeymoon suite. Mr. Smith, yours is in the room opposite hers. I do hope that's all right."

"That sounds perfect," he answers with a warm smile.

"How about a nice bowl of gumbo for lunch? I have some leftovers that are begging to be eaten. "

I look at the vampire in front of me. "That would be lovely."

"It sounds perfect," he agrees. "Thank you, Miss Hawthorne."

"Oh, please. Call me Francis." She looks between the two of us. "I think you two are going to be my favorite guests so far." She turns, disappearing into the house.

"It seems we're being beckoned for lunch," Thorne says, holding his arm toward me. "Shall we?"

I don't know whether to attack him, kiss him, or wrap my arm through his. I choose the latter, hooking my arm through his, and allowing him to lead me back through the windows into the sitting room.

"We have much to talk about," I whisper loud enough for his ears only as we join Ms. Francis at the table. She's mysteriously placed three already warm bowls of gumbo on the table and is waiting for our return. He nods in response.

I fight the urge to stare at the man that I've dreamed about for centuries. His features are more pronounced than I remember. Strong cheekbones accentuate his angular face. The once dark hair that stayed tied at his neck is now short and wavy, giving him a more modern look. Deep grey eyes hold the same intensity I remember from centuries ago. Sitting at the dining room table of his home in Charleston feels surreal.

"Tell me about yourself, Thorne," Francis interrupts .

He huffs a laugh. "There isn't much to tell. My family comes from Upstate. I love to visit Charleston whenever I can. The history is amazing here."

"That's true," she agrees. "It's what brought Elsie here, too." She smiles at me. "How do you two know each other?" Ms. Francis is ruthless with her questioning.

"We know each other from…" he stumbles over his words.

"From college," I interrupt. "We have a few classes together. Neither of us realized we were staying in the same city during spring break."

Francis laughs. "Is that so?"

"Yes, ma'am," he answers, pulling on a Southern drawl. "We met in history class, ironically." Thorne takes a small sip of the gumbo. I've never seen a vampire eat food before.

"Seems you two are a good match." She smiles once more. "I'm going after more cornbread. Would anyone else care for a piece?"

"No, thank you," we say in unison. I watch her leave the room before moving vampire speed to the trash and pouring part of my meal out. I'm back in my seat well before she enters the room carrying a slice of brown cake.

"Would you like more, Elsie?"

I pat my stomach for dramatic effect. "No, thank you. I'm stuffed. "

"Why don't we go for a walk?" Thorne asks after we help Ms. Francis clean the dishes from lunch.

"I'd like that." We exit the house, moving toward the river. We have three hundred years of history to discover, but we walk in silence.

"Tell me about your life," I ask as we approach the moving water. "How did you become a vampire?"

We find a bench near the water's edge, sitting side by side. "I asked."

"You asked?" I repeat his words.

"If Kragen didn't change you, who did?"

Thorne runs a hand through his messy curls. "After arriving here, my shipping company was in charge of exchanging goods with the city of New Orleans. I made the trip once a year, and each time I would search for someone who held the answer to my desires. It was on one of those trips that I met him."

"A vampire?"

"Aye, a vampire. He wasn't like the ones who took you. He was normal, or at least as normal as a vampire can be."

"What do you mean by normal?"

"I mean, he didn't kill humans for sport. He didn't drink their blood. He was a businessman and a member of New Orleans society."

How is that possible? "If he didn't drink human blood, how did he survive?"

"Goat blood mostly, and an occasional small animal if no goats are available. "

I stare at Thorne, not sure if I heard him correctly. "He drank goat's blood?"

"Aye. As I do now."

I sniff his direction. "That's why you smell different."

Thorne laughs. "Maybe. I never thought about it."

"Does the goat's blood make you weak?"

"No," he answers. "I'm as strong as a three-hundred-year-old vampire should be."

"Is your maker still alive?"

Thorne looks down. "No. He died protecting someone that he loved very much. His name was Viktor, and he was a great man. I hadn't spoken to him for the last fifty years or so. However, there was no anger or bitterness between us. We simply were living our own lives."

"I'm sorry," I confess.

"Aye, me, too. He was not only my maker, he was my friend."

"He agreed to change you into a vampire to find me?"

"Aye. It took several years of convincing, but he relented. I think it was the story of true love that changed his mind in the end." Butterflies take flight with his words. "It was during one of those deliveries that I left the ship and never returned home."

"You've only had goat's blood since turning?"

"Aye…and an occasional cat. "

"Can you teach me how to do that?" Tears escape my eyes. "I don't want to kill anymore."

"Aye. I can." Thorne wipes a tear from my cheek. The warmth of his hand against my skin is almost overwhelming. "You are still the most beautiful creature I've ever seen. I would do everything over again for this moment, here with you."

My eyes close with his words. "After Kragen took me, it was the memory of you that kept me alive. Living with him was…" I pause, not sure how much to say. "Living with him was a nightmare."

Thorne's hand slides down my arm to my hand, pulling it tight into his, offering strength to continue. "Kragen used me in every form of the word. He would starve me to near death, only to feed me enough blood to bring me back to life, and begin the torture again. He got off on the pain he caused." The energy coming from Thorne changes as I speak.

"I was his plaything—his toy. When he was bored, the others would take their turns. I was nothing more than an object for entertainment and fun." I sigh before continuing. "Through the years, I lost track of time. Being deprived of sunlight and nourishment took a toll on my body and left me nothing more than a shell of my former self. One of his crew members took pity on me and would secretly bring me blood. I used him. I toiled with his affection while gaining strength every day." I wipe another tear from the memory. "I used him like they'd used me for all those years. He was young and naive and thought we were in love."

"What happened to him?"

"He died." I clear my throat at the memory. "He was murdered when I escaped." I close my eyes, reliving Elliot's death.

Thorne squeezes my hand. "I can't imagine what you've been through. The thought of it…" He doesn't finish his statement. He stands, moving closer to the water. Anger rolls off him. "I'm so sorry, Elsbeth. I should've been there for you."

"It's not your fault," I remind him.

"Aye, directly it wasn't, but I'm the one who hired Smith. I put my trust in him. He was the one who contacted them and told them about you," he confesses. "I discovered years later that he sent a message through one of Kragen's men and told them there was a sick young girl on board. He sold you to repay a debt."

I stare at Thorne, not sure I heard him correctly. "That son of a bitch traded my life for a debt?" It's my turn to be angry.

"Aye. I'm sorry, Elsie."

"How did he die?"

"I killed him," Thorne answers softly. "He suffered first."

Hearing that the human who sold me to vampires to repay a debt died violently shouldn't bring comfort, but it does. "Good. "

"I've searched for centuries for you. Always one step behind…one day away. Even Viktor, with all of his knowledge and power, wasn't able to find Kragen or you. Bloody bastard."

"He still searches for me." My words draw his attention back to my face. "After all these years, he still searches," I repeat. "It's why I keep moving. Why I never stay anywhere long enough to be found."

"Until now. I've finally found you."

"Aye," I answer, stepping inches in front of him. "You found me."

Thorne's eyes search mine before his large hands cup each cheek. "I love you, Elsbeth Abernathy. I've loved you since the first time you stole my water to wash the shite off your hands, and I've never stopped."

Kissing Thorne is something I've dreamed about for three hundred years. Standing here, staring into his eyes, I do something young Elsie would've never done. I crash my lips into his, not wanting to wait another minute.

Thorne reacts instantly, pulling me even closer until there's no space between the two of us. He separates my lips with his tongue, and the sensation of our tongues colliding nearly sends me over the edge.

I fight the urge to undress him on the riverbank when a sensation I've only felt one other time hits me, making me pull away quickly.

"Do you feel that?" I ask, out of breath .

Thorne turns his nose to the sky. "Shit," he whispers.

"What is it?"

"It's not a what. It's a who," he answers, stepping away from me.

Turning toward the source, I feel something I've only experienced once before. A young woman is leaning against a tree with her foot propped on the trunk and her arms crossed in front of her chest. Her hair is a mixture of bright pink and blonde. Something about her reminds me of a rockstar from the ‘80s. "Hi!" She waves.

"Do you know her?"

"I can hear you," she interrupts, moving closer. "My name is Luna." She holds a hand toward me. I shake it, not sure what else to do.

"What are you?" I ask, staring into bright green eyes.

"You didn't tell her?" she asks Thorne. "I'm not surprised." She punches him on the shoulder.

"Luna, this is Elsbeth," Thorne answers. Her eyes grow large with my name.

"Elsbeth? THE Elsbeth?"

Thorne sighs. "Elsbeth, this is Luna. She's my pet werewolf."

"Werewolf?" I stare at the girl in front of me, not sure what else to say.

"I prefer the term lycanthrope."