Forever Yours Read online

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  Wings ePress, Inc

  www.wings-press.com

  Copyright ©2008 by Josephine Templeton

  First published in 2008, 2008

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  NOTICE: This work is copyrighted. It is licensed only for use by the original purchaser. Making copies of this work or distributing it to any unauthorized person by any means, including without limit email, floppy disk, file transfer, paper print out, or any other method constitutes a violation of International copyright law and subjects the violator to severe fines or imprisonment.

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  CONTENTS

  What They Are Saying About

  Dedication

  One

  Two

  Three

  Four

  Five

  Six

  Seven

  Eight

  Nine

  Ten

  Eleven

  Twelve

  Thirteen

  Fourteen

  Fifteen

  Sixteen

  Seventeen

  Eighteen

  Nineteen

  Twenty

  Twenty-one

  Twenty-two

  Twenty-three

  Twenty-four

  Twenty Five

  Twenty-six

  Twenty-seven

  Twenty-eight

  Twenty-nine

  Thirty

  Thirty-one

  Thirty-two

  Thirty-three

  Thirty-four

  Thirty-five

  Thirty-six

  Thirty-seven

  Thirty-eight

  Thirty-nine

  Forty

  Epilogue

  Meet Josephine Templeton

  VISIT OUR WEBSITE

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  Forever Yours

  Transferring his hold of Katherine to his left side, Beaux pulled his dagger free of its sheath and stepped close to his intended victim. He raised the knife over his shoulder and brought it towards Vincent's prone form.

  Certain of his intent, Katherine threw herself at the last second between the flashing steel and Vincent. The blade sank into her shoulder, and she collapsed to her knees, blood flowing everywhere.

  Shocked, Beaux let go of her hand and stepped back. His eyes narrowed as it dawned on him what her act meant. She would die for Vincent.

  His temper flared out of control. Unable to stop himself, he kicked Katherine as hard as he could in the stomach. Then he pulled her up and threw her across the room. She screamed as she hit the wall and slid to the floor, too weak to rise. The pain caused to tears to spill down her face.

  "Why?” she mumbled. “Why are ye doing this? Why can't ye let us be?"

  Ignoring her pleas, Beaux looked at Vincent. The commotion was causing him to stir. Vincent was coming out of the healing sleep.

  "Just in time, old friend,” Beaux sneered.

  Groggily, Vincent raised his head, wincing in pain when he tried to move his broken arms. He looked around in confusion. Licking his lips, he asked quietly, “Is this Hell?"

  Beaux laughed. “Oh yes, dear friend, it is Hell indeed."

  Raising his eyes to his former comrade, Vincent took in the scene before him. He jerked upright at the sight of Katherine crumpled on the floor.

  "Bastard, what have ye done to her?” Vincent cried. He looked at Beaux and shook his head. “It wasn't enough that ye took her once before."

  Leaning close, Beaux growled. “Aye, friend, yer right about that."

  Beaux could not fathom why he was so upset. Something in him craved Katherine's love. He was insanely jealous of Vincent, had always been so even when they were lads. Vincent had everything. Beaux felt the only reason Vincent had befriended him was because he felt sorry for him. Well, no more pity for poor abused Beaux.

  Swiftly crossing the room, Beaux grabbed Katherine by her hair. His rage blinded him as he yanked his dagger from her shoulder. Her scream rang through the room, but he paid no heed.

  Making sure Vincent had a perfect view, Beaux drew the knife across Katherine's neck. Her eyes widened in shock as blood poured from the gaping wound. Within seconds, she was sucked into the healing sleep, defenseless.

  Then Beaux ripped her head from her body and held it before him like a talisman. He swung it back and forth before Vincent.

  Vincent's stomach churned. Anger filled him, and he tried to move. White fire ate at his broken arms. He was powerless. His eyes blazed red as hatred rose in him.

  "If I can't have her, my friend, neither will you,” Beaux muttered.

  Mercilessly, Beaux's fist smashed into Katherine's mouth. Both head and body instantaneously turned to dust. Vincent's heart suddenly ached with an indescribable pain. Just like that, his love was gone.

  What They Are Saying About

  Forever Yours

  Review

  Reviewer Name

  Publication

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  Wings

  Forever Yours

  by

  Josephine Templeton

  A Wings ePress, Inc.

  Paranormal Romance Novel

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  Wings ePress, Inc.

  Edited by: Rosalie Franklin

  Copy Edited by: Shonna Brannon

  Senior Editor: (NAME)

  Managing Editor: (NAME)

  Executive Editor: Lorraine Stephens

  Cover Artist: Richard Stroud

  All rights reserved

  Names, characters and incidents depicted in this book are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of the author or the publisher.

  No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

  Wings ePress Books

  www.wings-press.com

  Copyright © 2008 by Josephine Templeton

  ISBN 978-1-59705-720-2

  Published In the United States Of America

  March 2008

  Wings ePress Inc.

  403 Wallace Court

  Richmond, KY 40475

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  Dedication

  As always, I thank God for giving me this talent.

  To my husband, Michael, for your undying love and support. You are my hero always!

  To my sons, Mike, Jr. and Chris, for knowing how to make me feel like a mom (grin).

  To my Dad and Mom (aka Frank and Betty Ault) for actually reading my stuff and standing behind me no matter what.

  To all my brothers and sisters: Betti Kay, Jeff, Randy, Sue, Joan, Evy, Bill and Beth—a special thanks goes to all of you for your help in making me who I am today! Family comes first no matter what, and just remember, I still know how to get a cake fight started.

  I also want to send a BIG thank you to Rhonda McKee for spending a weekend helping me proof-read.

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  One

  1626—Jamestown, Virginia

  The first stirring of hunger gnawed at Pyre's stomach. The vampire relished the ache, letting its nauseating sharpness increase his hunting skills. He inhaled, drawing in the sweet scent of fear. With practiced ease, he pushed open the lid of his coffin and followed the trail of fear to a small clearing in the woods.

  His hands rested on a magnolia tree as he peered around it. His nails dug into the bark as disappointment made his stomach cramp. Another vampire had found the prey first. Regret swam through him as he rea
lized he had lost his quarry.

  Pyre watched jealously as the golden-haired vampire pulled the mortal woman close. She trembled in his arms. Yet she was unable to break the trance that held her. Her fears were kissed away, and she melted against him in complete abandon.

  My husband. Her thoughts sighed against Pyre's mind.

  The woman's abrupt scream filled the night as the golden-haired vampire sunk his teeth into her neck. She struggled, but his strength held her firmly in place. The sound of the other vampire feeding caused Pyre's stomach to clench with need.

  Seconds later, the golden-haired vampire lifted his face from the woman's neck. His lips were stained red. He threw back his head with closed eyes and reveled in the rush of her blood. Transfixed, Pyre licked his lips at the sight of blood on the other vampire's chin. The woman's blood smelled sweeter than any other Pyre had ever known.

  At last, the golden-haired vampire opened his eyes. He swept the unconscious woman into his arms and turned blood-filled eyes in Pyre's direction. His voice thick with blood, he snarled, “She's mine."

  Pyre smiled coldly and dipped his head in acknowledgment. His nostrils flared as he drew in quick breaths of air. Excitement from watching had sent his heart pumping wildly, and he craved his own sustenance.

  Breaking eye contact, Pyre's gaze shifted to the ground. For the first time, he noticed the still form several feet away from the other vampire. White wings curled protectively around the angel's body, leaving only her head exposed.

  The golden-haired vampire smiled wickedly. “Have a taste of her but dare not take too much. An angel's blood be sweet but deadly."

  Pyre raised his eyebrow, wondering how the other had captured the angel. The golden one merely smirked, refusing to tell his secrets. Instead, he looked possessively at the woman in his arms. Satisfaction rolled through his words.

  "I told m'lady Katherine that naught would keep me from her side.” Without another word, the golden-haired vampire vanished into the night with his prize.

  Hunger gripped Pyre, and he knelt beside the moaning angel, intent on tasting her heavenly blood. He pushed a strand of her dark hair away from her neck, revealing two bloody holes from the golden one's bite.

  "What angel kind be you that hath blood?” Pyre whispered.

  The angel's wings fluttered, and Pyre suddenly felt as if he were moving in slow motion. The closer he got to the angel's neck, the more his mouth watered. He swallowed, savoring the edge of hunger. Pressing cold lips against the angel's neck, he closed his eyes in preparation for the feast.

  Strong fingers squeezed Pyre's throat, and before he knew it, the angel had him pinned to the ground. Astonishment flooded through him. The angel had moved faster than even he could comprehend.

  "Where is my lady Katherine?"

  The angel's voice was soft and sweet as honey. He struggled to reply, but the angel's single-handed hold on his neck prevented speech. Wrapping cold hands around the angel's wrist, Pyre silently hoped she would release him soon. He did not like the idea of slipping into the healing sleep with an enraged angel above him. The mighty female reluctantly loosened her grip just enough to allow him to talk.

  "Speak, vampire. Where's my charge?” she growled.

  For a second, Pyre was distracted by the angel's perfect beauty—neither scar nor blemish marred her skin. Her dark hair hung down and touched lightly against his cheek. The scent of apple blossoms permeated the dark tresses, and he shook his head clear.

  With a raspy voice, he replied, “The golden-haired vampire drank of her blood and flew off with her."

  The angel's ocean-blue eyes widened as tears of sorrow filled them. “It has begun then,” she whispered.

  With a cry of grief, the angel darted into the sky. Still entranced by her charms, Pyre watched the angel shoot through the night like a star. Curiosity finally urged him to follow her. Gathering a gust of wind to carry him, he hurried after the enraged angel.

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  The graveyard, like so many others, had been abandoned years ago. The grass and weeds had grown taller than the headstones and hid a crumbling mausoleum. The angel had followed the golden-haired vampire's scent, and from a distance, Pyre watched uncertainly as the angel spied on the fiend.

  The golden-haired vampire had already forced the woman to become one of them. Now she lay in the death sleep as her body adjusted. As a human, she had been a beauty. Now she had an otherworldly sparkle that shimmered over her face and hair, enticing mortal and immortal alike. Pyre saw through the vampire glamour, noting that her only imperfection was a small red birthmark high on her forehead.

  The golden-haired vampire bent over his fledgling, caressing her face with his hand. He seemed oblivious to anything but her. Surprise registered on his face as the tip of a wooden stake suddenly peeked through his chest. He crumpled to the ground, succumbing to the vampire sleep.

  Standing uncertainly by the unconscious vampire was a raven-haired mortal man. His hands shook and fear seeped from his body. He had never killed anything remotely human before.

  The angel stood beside the mortal man and whispered in his ear. The man knelt beside the vampire. Steeling his nerves, he pried open the mouth, wincing as the pointy fangs nicked his fingers. Then, he determinedly ripped them out, and the vampire's body instantly exploded into dust. The man then focused on the woman. Thinking her dead, he lifted her in his arms. Tears streamed down his face as his heart ached for his wife.

  Pyre remained in the shadows, pulling the darkness tight to him. Oblivious to anything but his grief, the weeping man walked past the hiding vampire. The angel trailed behind them, and her ocean-blue eyes flashed angrily at Pyre as she passed by. The warning slammed painfully into Pyre's head.

  "Back off, vampire."

  Pyre grabbed his head with both hands as the angel's words echoed in it. Growling softly, Pyre turned away from the angel.

  No need to get nasty about it. With a sneer, Pyre left the sad trio far below on the ground. He knew there was easier prey close by.

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  Two

  1714—Cape Cod

  A multitude of books were spread out across the wood table. A raven-haired youth in his seventeenth year dutifully studied the religious texts that his father insisted he learn. The lad regretted the day his father had found him with Rachel in the barn. It had been embarrassing for both youths, and Vincent had willingly taken all of the blame.

  Now he was forced to pay the price by studying the righteous path of the Lord. It was a stern path that his father had chosen for him. Vincent had about fifty verses to memorize in one night, not to mention the fact that his father was at that very moment negotiating a marriage to Rachel Green. Her reputation was at stake.

  Grumbling, Vincent laid his head on the table and stared forlornly at the fire blazing in the hearth. He did not want to marry Rachel, and he was sure she felt the same. Theirs was only physical attraction, and both knew it.

  A sudden pounding on the door caused him to jump. With furrowed brows, he hurried to open the door, wondering who could possibly call at this hour. The opened door revealed a man who could have passed for himself. A bit stunned, Vincent was at a loss for words. If he did not know better, he would have sworn he was looking in a mirror.

  "Be this the house of Richard Bellamy?"

  "Aye, sir,” Vincent stammered. “That it is."

  The stranger smiled, “Allow me to introduce meself. Sam Bellamy, at yer service."

  Recognizing the name, Vincent immediately stepped aside. “Cousin Sam, please, do come in. Father is not here at the moment."

  As he showed his cousin in, Vincent could not stop staring at Sam. The resemblance was unnerving, and he wondered if his English cousin was thinking the same thing.

  "We did not think ye would be here so soon,” Vincent mumbled.

  "Nor did I. As luck would have it, the voyage went smoothly,” Sam replied. “I was lucky to land a job aboard the America-bound ship. I ho
pe to find more work on another ship. It seems the sailor's life appeals to me."

  "Are ye hungry? Thirsty?” Vincent asked as he rushed to clear the table of books.

  "A bit o’ both, thank ye,” Sam responded, sitting at the table.

  "Ye look weary."

  "Two miles walk, I should say so. When do ye expect yer father's return?” Sam asked between bites of food.

  Before Vincent could reply, the door was thrown open, and his father strode in. Richard Bellamy stopped at the sight of Sam, and Vincent knew he had to be stricken by their resemblance. Striding forward, Richard held out his hand to the young man before turning a rueful eye to his son.

  "Well, lad, it seems a marriage will commence within the next six months. Yer mother will be glad."

  Vincent's heart sank to his feet as he realized he was trapped in a loveless marriage. “Father, I swear to ye I did not defile her. Be there no other way?"

  Richard shook his head. “Son, her reputation is at stake."

  "But no one knows but thee and me,” Vincent cried. He felt as if a noose were choking him, and he pulled nervously at the collar of his shirt.

  Richard slapped a heavy hand on the table. “Boy, ye will do her right, by God. How can ye think otherwise?"

  Vincent bowed his head in defeat. Then he pushed away from the table and stormed out of the small farmhouse.

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  A week later, Sam was on his way from his lodging at Higgins’ Tavern to his uncle's house. The young sailor couldn't get Vincent's situation out of his head. Vincent was a good lad, and Sam hated to see him tied down in the prime of his life. He was going to offer Vincent a chance to escape, if not the marriage, then at least the life of a farmer.

  Sam had gotten close to Vincent over the last few days. He had seen the hungry look for adventure in Vincent's eyes when they had visited the ocean. Sam intended to dangle a worm before the lad, and he knew without a doubt he'd set the hook.

  When Sam reached Tarmity Briars, he heard the unmistakable sound of singing. It came from an apple orchard on the left side of the road. The melodious voice piqued his curiosity, and he followed the sound through the orchard.