Rise for Me

5

His eyes flicked to Lizzie and narrowed. “Why would you say that?”

“She returned for your forgiveness, but wants to break the bond. Yet, she loved you from the time you met. I detected a weird scent on her. It makes sense. You even said her blood tasted strange, and she passed out at the Fun House.”

Roman groaned at the mess, the mistakes, the possibility that Mariah was hiding an illness, and the never-ending ache. When Lizzie smacked his leg again, he glared at her, thinking he should deposit his sister outside the carnival boundary with Mariah. “Mariah said her father threatened to tell everyone we healed her, report us to whoever would listen, and that’s why she left. She said she was protecting us when we are vampire and need no protection.”

Roman ran one hand over his face while chuckling. “I met her father, and he was a controlling ass, but it turns out he descended from gypsies. Mariah is half Romani.”

Lizzie wandered around the room, clucking her tongue. “Interesting.”

Roman threw his legs over the side of the chaise lounge and sat up. “It doesn’t matter. I sent her away. We’ll leave here by the end of the week, and I will never see Mariah again. It’s what’s best for her, for me, and for the troupe. We will never return to this area.”

“And if she’s sick?”

“Mariah blocked me from her mind and her life. I respect her wishes.”

Lizzie whipped around with a glint in her eye. “Bullshit. I don’t believe you, Roman. You’re hiding something. What else did Mariah say? Tell me, or I’ll go ask her myself.”

The last thing Roman wanted was for Lizzie to go nosing around where Mariah was concerned. He spent quite a bit of time learning The Craft and knew there was always a way to reverse a spell, but at a cost. That dumb birthmark would come back threefold, and he didn’t want that for Mariah. “She asked to reverse the spell. She said she would rather wear the birthmark than live with my hate. She wants to break our bond.”

Lizzie gasped and slapped one hand over her heart. “Oh, Roman. Go to her. You should know better than anyone that holding on to a grudge spells disaster for everyone involved. You are her true mate. She will never find that kind of love in anyone, and neither will you. What if she finds another coven and they try to reverse that spell? What if she settles for another because you sent her away? What if she’s dying? Forgive her, Roman, and let go of the past.”

Roman growled at the image of another loving Mariah and at Lizzie’s words. They only exchanged blood one time, and Mariah was asleep. Two blood exchanges would seal the spell permanently but bind them closer together. Three exchanges would bring her fully into his world.

He must do the second exchange to keep Mariah from doing something reckless. She didn’t understand the dark arts, but he did. He studied under a warlock, and when the time came, took over that warlock’s coven and brought them into the carnival. He knew better when they healed Mariah, but didn’t do a second blood exchange once he realized she was his mate. That would’ve made everything worse for both of them, and now he had no choice.

Roman glanced at the moon once again and sighed. Could he trust her? Could he forgive? Was she sick? There’d be no escape for either of them with the second exchange, but the spell would be unbreakable.

“Do it, brother, before something terrible happens. Do it for yourself and do it for Mariah.”

He jerked to the slamming door as Lizzie left the room. Roman hastily pulled on a T-shirt and jeans, then left the same way in a panic. The taint in her blood worried him. No chance could be taken with Mariah’s life, and he’d make sure no one ever reversed the spell or broke their bond.

If he were miserable, she’d be miserable, but his sacrifice would hold.

Mariah leisurely strolled to her parents’ home while thinking of how to outsmart or seduce Roman, whichever came first. The man wasn’t called the ringmaster for nothing. He was a vampire and a warlock, all rolled into one delicious package. He was also extremely intelligent, guarded, and stubborn.

They were bound together, but she was dying, and he would live eternally. After what she did, she didn’t want to be remembered as a hindrance where Roman was concerned. She wanted him to find love. He deserved so much more.

The locking mechanism on the gate clicked when she opened it and swung back into place to re-latch. She paused under the moonlight to stare at her parents’ house with a frown. Even though she loved her childhood home, this was not where she wanted to be tonight. She wanted to be with Roman. Death could come at any time.

Mentally and physically exhausted, she fumbled with her keys until the front door finally gave way. She didn’t bother to turn on the lights and, instead, climbed the staircase to her old room, kicked her shoes off, and fell on the bed face first with a groan.

Intense pain wracked her lower back, but she’d learned to breathe through the pain until it was tolerable. She refused narcotics but might have to reconsider that decision sooner than later. After a few minutes of peaceful quiet, she turned her face to the side.

Antique dolls stared with their glassy eyes and blank, perfect faces. Mariah never liked the creepy dolls, but her mother gave her one every birthday. Pink-laced doilies adorned the nightstand, dresser, and her well-used desk. Many books on self-esteem, how to be a proper young lady, along with Bibles, sat in neat stacks throughout the bedroom.

Her gaze lifted to one of the needlepoint scriptures, in a white frame, hanging on the pink walls. A soft chuckle left her lips at her mother’s and father’s never-ending attempt to turn her into the perfect lady.

Until age ten, her wardrobe comprised frilly, ruffled dresses covered in bows and itchy lace. Mariah hated those dresses, but her mother insisted she appear modest and meek. From the first moment she went to the carnival and met Roman, everything changed. The relationship with her parents became strained. They hated the carnival and forbade her from going, but sneaking out of the house proved easy enough once she was older.

The subject of Roman and the carnival caused many heated arguments. Roman represented everything they tried not to be, and they resented his influence on her life. Mariah’s mother insisted she ignore the birthmark and pretend it wasn’t there, as if that would make it go away, but Roman and the troupe acknowledged her uniqueness and accepted her deformity without judgment.

Late one night, Roman arrived to speak to her father. She was told to go to her room, but she perched on the top step, listening to every word. Roman offered to pay for the surgery her parents couldn’t afford or wouldn’t consent to. Her father called the birthmark a sign from God and said it would only be removed or healed by prayer and service to the church. He called Roman a dirty gypsy, a sinner, an abomination, and warned him to never return or there would be consequences.

Mariah sighed deeply before pushing off the bed, removing her shorts and bra, then slipping beneath her mother’s hand-sewn quilt. After raising the window partway to allow a breeze in her room, she snuggled under the covers. How many times had she lain here while her father’s prayers and cries filled every room in the house? It was his way of asking for help for his only daughter. They witnessed other children bullying and making fun of her, but believed, without a doubt, God would heal their little girl.

Mariah rolled over on her side, wondering why God never healed her, and now she knew why. There was no point in healing the birthmark when she would die of cancer later, anyway. If she could go back in time, she wouldn’t have asked Roman for healing. It was a cruel joke and a long list of mistakes she could add to her repertoire, but what haunted her was how she left him.

The carnival remained in town longer each time it arrived, and she observed while learning all she could about the people. The summer before her junior year, she couldn’t take the taunts or her father’s guilt over her any longer. Was it the wrong decision to go to Roman and put him on the spot? Either way, Roman and the witches gave her what God didn’t.

Her fingers traced the spot where Roman’s flesh replaced the hideous birthmark, and she softly smiled, remembering the first time she looked at her reflection without the blemish. It was one of the best moments of her life, but something else happened that night. A connection formed between her and Roman that couldn’t be broken. His emotions, his desires, and his sadness all became part of her soul.

With his blood coursing through her veins and his flesh fused to her own, another gift reared its ugly head. She learned to block her thoughts from everyone, including Roman. Only at her most vulnerable time did she allow him in. It was selfish of her but necessary because she couldn’t stand his pain, knowing she was the reason. Without knowing why and with no one to ask, she withdrew into herself.

While at college, she spent hours in the library poring over anything she could find on the vampire. It was only after stumbling upon a book comprising European folklore regarding the vampire, where the term mate was described, that she figured it out. She pondered the information, putting two and two together, until she realized what she was to Roman and how much heartache she caused him with a selfless act.

The right intentions put them both in an impossible situation.

Her eyes drooped as she pictured Roman in her mind. She must find a way to get through to him. It was true her father threatened to expose Roman and the witches. Somehow, her father knew they were the ones who healed her, but her father didn’t seem surprised. Did he know Roman was a vampire? When she refused to stop going to the carnival, her father resorted to blackmail. Mariah either did what he wanted and never returned to the carnival, or he would report Roman to anyone who would listen.

She didn’t know much about the law, but she knew an underage girl hanging around a grown man would look horrible in the eyes of the authorities, although nothing inappropriate ever happened. That he was a vampire complicated the situation, and she wouldn’t take a chance with his life or anyone else’s.

Mariah left Caro, Nebraska, with a broken heart at the end of her senior year.

She dated a few boys, but no one compared to Roman.

As she matured, her feelings changed from that of an appreciative young lady to the full-blown desires of a woman.

She returned home for visits when she knew the carnival was supposed to be in town, and at night, she’d linger on the outer edges, hoping to glimpse Roman.

So many times, she wanted to approach him.

She wished he would come to her, but he never did.

Before she left, their relationship became strained, and there was something else in Roman’s gaze that seared her soul.

She didn’t understand everything about the spell, blood, and flesh used to heal her face, but suspected there was more to the story, which led to those long days and nights in the college library. Roman was everything, and she wouldn’t give up without a fight. She belonged to him, and she belonged to the carnival.

Tranquility, Roman, and her true friends were what she wanted beside her when she departed from this world. Maybe she asked for too much? Another healing was out of the question, especially given Roman’s heartache. Breaking their bond would ensure he could find love again. Surely there was more than one mate.

Her eyelids grew heavy as she contemplated how best to reach him, hoping for a miracle for him.

The uncut, rough, ruby stone warmed Roman’s palm. As a last-minute thought, he grabbed it out of his chest containing all the stones used for spells, but this was the one the witches tossed to him on the carousel. The giving and taking of blood didn’t require magic, but he wanted it to be a pleasurable, sensual experience for Mariah. The first time they exchanged blood was intravenous, but this time would be by his bite.

His mouth salivated, and his fangs tingled as he thought of Mariah in the throes of passion from his touch. He also wanted the experience to be dreamlike, so she wouldn’t know if he’d truly come for her. Their bond would strengthen, but after tonight, he would seek eternal rest in Romania. His parents sought eternal rest when their people suffered persecution, and so would he, but for a different reason. The sacrifice must be secured before he left to ensure no one could undo it for her sake.

Roman quickly moved through the deserted streets of Caro, Nebraska, until he lingered beneath the window of Mariah’s bedroom. No other presence could be detected, and Mariah slept peacefully. Her heartbeat thumped out a steady rhythm, but she was restless, thrashing beneath her quilt.

Lightning flashed to the left, matching the rising tide building in his soul. The wind picked up, rustling the leaves in the trees before he allowe d them to settle once again. Wind chimes on the back porch tinkled in the breeze, inviting and ominous at the same time.

Roman rolled his head on his shoulders, calming the blood racing through his veins and the thunderstorm forming from his emotions. The weather was his to manipulate at will.

He entered her home through the back-patio doors with the wave of his hand. Mariah gave the open invitation to her home long ago. No sound except the steady breaths from Mariah, and the occasional whistle of the wind around the outside corners of the house, broke the quiet. He silently crept up the steps to the second-floor landing, passing two bedrooms and a bathroom before arriving at Mariah’s door.

Roman hesitated before entering the room where she slept so soundly. A deep sigh left his lips before he silently pushed the door open. Moonlight filtered between a break in the clouds, shining through the window, and the curtains lifted as a breeze steadily blew through the crack. Mariah loved the night and thunderstorms, so it didn’t surprise him to find her window open. Wheat-blonde hair spilled over the crisp, white pillow she lay on. Her pink lips were slightly parted in sleep.

Roman’s own lips pressed together into thin lines when he noticed her shorts and bra lying on the floor beside the full bed. A patchwork quilt, in a kaleidoscope of colors, rested just below her abdomen, revealing the band of her white-laced panties. A light-pink tank top covered her breasts, but didn’t conceal her nipples from his hungry gaze. One hand rested against her temple, and the other lay on the pillow beside her face.

He studied the perfection before him with something akin to regret filling his spirit. It should’ve been different between them. He momentarily questioned his decision before setting the ruby stone on her bedside table. In a whisper, he chanted the words that would strengthen their connection and seal Mariah’s healing.

Blood exchanged will seal my gift

The flesh will stay, no spell will lift

Vague is the night, vague is the dream

Never remember it was me

Roman lifted his hands, palms up, to begin the next part of the spell using the stone, but when Mariah moved in her sleep and threw one leg out from under the covers, he didn’t know if he could continue. Temptation and endless torture cursed his life, and there would be no reprieve, but it was a sacrifice he would make one thousand times for her.

Creamy, bare flesh slid along the quilt as she moaned in her sleep and spoke his name. A dull light formed inside the ruby stone, strengthening with Mariah’s murmuring. Roman closed his eyes against the onslaught of desire, brushing against his body and penetrating his soul. It sought entrance, control, and a response. She must be dreaming of him. It was the only explanation.

His eyes snapped open when the bed creaked. Heavy-lidded, sleepy eyes opened with a reddish glow lighting their dark depths.

“Mariah?”

Roman spoke her name as a question, not fully understanding what was happening, but the stone did. Brilliant red light shot from the ruby’s rough edges, saturating the walls, the floors, and everything in its glow. His face tilted when Mariah rose from her reclined position to sit on the side of the bed.

A trickle of unease sped down his spine. This wasn’t supposed to happen. Mariah was using the stone against him, and her desire magnified his own, fed off it, and seduced in pulsating waves. A groan rumbled from his chest when his cock painfully swelled, and his muscles clenched with need.

“Do you come to me as a warlock, vampire, or as a man, Roman Lee?”

She asked so softly he wasn’t sure he heard her voice, but her eyes blazed with an otherworldly color. She was a temptress, a woman bent on crushing what remained of his heart, and he hated her for it.

He pinched the bridge of his nose when the truth reared its ugly head, forcing him to accept their destiny. He craved her like no other and always would. They were both damned, locked in unwavering desire, and the relentless pull of mates. For once, he let the caged passion soar higher than it ever had. “I come to you as all three, Mariah.”

Roman ripped his T-shirt off and tossed it on the floor next to Mariah’s discarded bra and shorts. Her eyes closed when his fingers touched her shoulder, caressing her soft flesh, and feathered down her arm. She leaned back onto the bed, and he followed, caught under her spell. The stone burned brighter, casting red light onto their skin, sending crashing waves of sensuality over them both.

When his lips touched hers, a groan rumbled up from the depths of his soul as her feminine whimper filled his mouth, followed by the sweetness of her taste. One delicate hand threaded into his hair as the other slid over his neck, shoulder, and chest.

Roman forced himself to think of her pleasure and the spell he cast, but he couldn’t with Mariah’s mouth and hands gliding over his skin. Perfect breasts grazed his chest as she arched against him in surrender and invitation. Walls of hate and distrust evaporated when her tongue slicked his bottom lip, seeking entrance into one of the most intimate acts a couple could share.

Roman matched her passion with everything in his heart, adoring and absorbing the sensation of her body and mouth against his own. “Mariah,”

he whispered against her lips before licking a path down her jaw and neck.

He rolled off her body onto his side, freeing his hands to trace her curves and lavish attention on her neck. Breathy moans filled the darkness, and her flesh burned beneath his fingertips. “So beautiful,”

he whispered against her skin, as his fangs scraped the pulse point at the base of her throat. Mariah squirmed beneath his touch, tossing her head to the side, giving him better access.

Roman glided one hand under her tank top to flick her nipples, massage, and rub. His cock throbbed in his pants, and his breaths became erratic. With a yank, her shirt ripped in two, revealing her pert breasts. Her body came off the bed when he sucked a pink nipple into his mouth and laved it with his tongue.

His hand slid along the undersides of her breasts, pausing when he skimmed something rough, then continued over her ribcage until he reached the band on her silk panties. The tips of his fingers slipped beneath the band, running back and forth between warm skin and silk, until he couldn’t stand it anymore. He ripped the panties off with one jerk, inhaling the mouthwatering scent of her surrender.

Slim hips lifted when his fingers descended lower, teasing her sex and bringing her to a fever pitch of need. Her breath caught when he cupped her womanhood fully, then slid one finger inside her channel, followed by two.

Mariah’s legs spread wider, and she tossed one over his thigh as he continued to finger her. Wetness coated the digit, and her hips moved in time with his thrusts while he sucked on her nipple. The gasps for breath and racing heartbeat told him when she was close to orgasm.

As her moans filled the bedroom, Roman pierced the creamy swell of her breast and drew her essence into his body. His eyes closed from the exquisite taste of her warm blood filling his mouth and sliding down the back of his throat. Nails scraped his neck, and her entire body tightened when she finally orgasmed on his hand.

As she floated back to earth, Roman opened a slight wound on his chest, and immediately her mouth covered the laceration. The feel of her tongue sliding against his flesh, and knowing his blood flowed into her, was almost more than he could stand.

His gaze flicked to the stone when the light decreased in vibrancy. The second feeding was over, and the spell was sealed. No one could ever take what he gave her, and no one could ever break their connection.

Roman gently removed Mariah’s lips from his chest, only to lift her face to his own. Blood coated her full lips, so he licked the corners and plump flesh clean, savoring the shared blood. A sigh filled his mouth, and he gripped the back of her head, bringing her fully against him, relishing this one last moment with his soulmate.

He could kiss her all night long, but pulled away and waved one hand quickly over her face. Mariah instantly settled into a peaceful sleep as the light from the stone completely extinguished. He lay beside her longer than he should, memorizing every inch of her flushed cheeks, the dark lashes resting against her skin, and the beautiful body snugly pressed against his own.

With the back of his knuckles, he barely grazed the swell of her left breast, searching for the spot he felt earlier on the underside. When he found the puckered area of flesh, he paused and leaned over her until he could see the scar.

It was a tiny area, a healed wound, and rough, with small ridges in a circular shape. Roman lifted his hand when she smacked at it as if he’d tickled her, but her eyes never opened. The tiny scar troubled him, along with the taint in her blood. Was she sick? Why wouldn’t she tell him?

Being careful not to wake her, he rose from the bed and grabbed his T-shirt off the floor. Mariah moaned in her sleep and rolled onto her side.

Lightning flashed in the window and thunder rumbled low and deep, followed by a downpour. The storm had finally arrived. Roman grabbed the ripped panties and tank off the floor, stuffed them in his jeans pocket, and searched for a clean set to put on her. The room and Mariah must look like he’d never been here.

After redressing her, Roman hovered beside the bed and replaced the quilt over her supple body. The scent of her arousal saturated the air and filled his nostrils. His cock still ached, and his body was on edge, but to take things any farther would shatter both their hearts.

Roman backed out of the room with his gaze locked on Mariah. Just as he turned to grab the doorknob, a sleepy voice whispered, “Don’t go.”

He glanced over his shoulder, not sure if he heard her voice, but she remained asleep. He closed his eyes and inhaled a deep breath, then let it out on a long sigh. The time to forgive had come. He couldn’t lose her, no matter what happened in the past. The scar on her breast and the cells in her blood revealed the unspoken truth. He’d tasted this before, in others, and knew the outcome she faced. Only now did he recognize what she tried so hard to hide. Cancer. Lizzie was right.

His gaze slid over her slender form one more time, his hand rubbing the flesh over his heart. He loved her with every fiber of his being and wouldn’t lose her to cancer. The revelation filled his spirit with regret. How long had she been sick? How much time? Why didn’t she ask him for help?

Roman hung his head in shame. Now he knew the answers to his questions about her blood. She came home to him, because this was where she belonged, and she knew it. She accepted death, but he didn’t and never would where Mariah was concerned. He whispered one last spell as he left her room, forcing her into a deeper sleep.

This blood exchange would give her the time he needed to complete her transition and also a jolt of energy. Plans needed to be put in place with what remained of the night. He needed Lizzie, and he needed his parents.

Roman glanced at the ruby stone still lying on her bedside table. He left it on purpose for Mariah. A small smile lifted the predator’s lips in the darkness. His little half-gypsy wielded a powerful spell of her own. The stone was for her. Meddling witches.

He softly closed her door and stepped into the night with renewed purpose. Rain pelted his body, and a gust of wind rushed over his skin. The ache in his soul abated, for one moment, as he lifted his face to the storm and embraced its fury. He thought of Romany and the Carpathian Mountains, then let a summons loose on the wind to his parents. It was time they rose, and it was time to go home with his mate by his side.

Everything was set, and with Lizzie’s help, Mariah would be his by the next night, the night of new beginnings.

An uneasy feeling woke Mariah from sleep. Heavy eyelids lifted, then shut against the light. Her stomach rumbled with hunger, and she didn’t feel nauseous for once. She stretched and yawned in the ray of warm sunshine streaming through her window as a strong breeze rushed over her skin, knocking the alarm clock off her nightstand. White-laced curtains fluttered before settling against the windowpane.

Mariah opened her eyes and blinked several times to clear her vision before reaching for the fallen clock and repositioning it on the nightstand. Her gaze darted to a red stone lying next to the clock, staring at it, and wondering where it came from.

With the pad of her finger, she touched the rough surface as memories of the stones the witches at the carnival used surfaced from long ago. She remembered discovering them as a child in an old chest beneath Roman’s bed. A lazy smile lifted the corners of her mouth when images of Roman filled her mind. There was no way to think of the carnival or anything about it without picturing him.

Mariah picked up the stone and lay back on her pillow while twirling it in the sunlight.

She always found the stones interesting and wanted to learn to use them, but Lizzie would only laugh while tucking them away in the chest and say something like, “Another time,” or “When you’re older.”