Unraveling Mordecai - Marisa Maichel (top ten books of all time .TXT) 📗

Prologue
Whatever I'd been expecting, it hadn't been this. So far, I'd nearly lost Sarah to vampires, werewolves, other males, her family, and herself. But losing her to our children? I could not make an impossible decision.

CHAPTER ONE - SHE'S BACK

No matter how many times I saw her, I was still amazed at her Aphrodisian looks. Her selflessness, her kindness, her willingness to overlook my deepest flaws and see how much I loved her.
She was finally back after her summer in France on her family's farm. She was greatly tanned-even more tanned than usual-and her brown curly hair had been highlighted and cut to her shoulders. She had gained back much needed weight, and she had been working out. She had more musculature to her arms, legs, and abs.
What's more, she was finally happy. She was sad to leave her family, but happy to be back in front of me. She'd been taking her medication as prescribed, including her seizure and heart medication.
"Reese?"
I blinked. Then I woke up from my daydream.
"Come in, Sarah," I said.
She threw her arms around me immediately and kissed my jaw.
"I love you," she said.
"I love you most," I replied. As I'd said before, she would never have any conception of just how much I loved her. I would take a bullet for her.
"I missed you," she said. "I'm so glad I finally got to see you. I haven't been feeling great these past few days."
"I know, love, I heard. Selena told me." My sister had texted me two days before, updating me on the situation. Sarah had had a bad case of sun fever, and had gotten sick. She was better now, after lots of water and cool air.
Now that our high school career was over, I couldn't wait to marry her. We had planned the day for the Winter Solstice, on the day that Mom and Alexander had gotten married. But she needed lots of rest first, and we needed to plan our new life together, maybe even buy a house. Not a big one, two or three bedrooms max, just a starter home.
One room for us, one room for the baby, and a room for the guests.
Suddenly, she ran to the bathroom, and I heard her retching. A few minutes later, she came back out.
"Can I borrow your sweatpants?" she asked.
"Of course," I said, walking up to my room with her following behind. I gave her a pair of my old boxers, and she changed, tossing her wet jeans and underwear in the laundry hamper. I'd steal those later. She changed into my old black sweatpants, and then she sat on my bed, holding her stomach.
"I must have eaten some bad chicken," she said. "Come to think of it, I've been eating a lot of bad chicken lately."
"Stop eating chicken," I said.
"That's probably a good idea. Even Zie, who normally cooks really well, hasn't been having much luck with chicken lately."
Zie Huang was their cook and housekeeper. She also babysat Cirino sometimes. Cirino was Sarah's first baby, the one conceived by Michael Nales, whom I had destroyed after he raped her.
She ran to the bathroom again, and this time I made her stay in there until her stomach was completely empty. I gave her an unused toothbrush to brush her teeth with. I was glad she had her hair in its usual bun, or she'd have to take a shower to get the vomit out of her hair. Not that I minded loaning her my clothes. In fact, she frequently stole my clothes. I had been looking for a shirt or a jacket more than once only to realize she'd taken it.
I loaned her one of my band shirts next. She laid on the bed next.
"Period problems?" I asked.
"No," she said. "I haven't had any period...well, I do still have cramps, but no blood."
"Ah," I said. "Would you like to watch a movie, or would you like me to read to you?"
"Read," she said. She produced a book from her purse, which she'd set on the carpet. "Read this one. It's the latest vampire hit."
"Blood Night, by Jamie Williams," I read off the cover. "When are you going to get over him?"
"Um, never," she said.
"A tale of intrigue, romance, passion, lust, and rivalry," I continued. "When Dirk Zoeller moves to small town Indrigo, cheerleaders' hearts get broken and football players plot a dangerous prank against the one person they shouldn't mess with. How very fascinating."
"Read," she commanded.
"Fine. 'It was a dusky night when I approached the graveyard. The stars were covered by the dark clouds, the graves crooked and cracked. I almost did not see the ghost girl until it was too late.' Sarah, this is dreck."
"Read."
"'I approached the girl cautiously. She sat, staring ahead. She was dressed in old-fashioned clothing, closer to my time than this time. She wore a long grey dress with puffed sleeves and ruffled wrists. Her petticoat was visible under the hem. She wore old riding boots. Her hair was blond, meticulousy curled and pinned in a high updo. She did not react, nor stir, as I approached her. Then, as I stopped a foot away, her head slowly turned, and then I realized that her throat had been slit.'"
"Wow."
Wow, indeed. I would have never admitted this to Sarah, but as I moved deeper into the story, I grew interested as well. This was actually a decent story. When the ghost's skin melted away to reveal muscle and bone underneath, I actually shuddered. When she screamed for him to leave, to stay away, Sarah shuddered and climbed into my lap.
It was interesting, until we got to the part where he registered for high school and was immediately stalked by a cheerleader. Sarah had been a cheerleader, so I kind of understood the need for cheerleaders to keep up their image.
Finally, I heard the doorbell ring, interrupting our story time.
Since no one else was home, it was up to me to answer the door.
I went down, Sarah following close behind, and opened the door. A tall vampire with yellow eyes and long blond hair in a ponytail stood there, looking nervous.
"Is this the home of Mordecai Emerson?" he asked, sounding as nervous as he looked.
"What business do you have with my father?" I asked. "Vampires don't normally come to this house unless they're nomads or rogues."
"I...uh..." He turned and looked at Sarah. "I can see I'm interrupting something. I'll just...come back later."
He turned around and trotted down the steps, getting into a beautiful black 1976 Impala.
"That was weird," Sarah said. "What did he want with Mordecai?"
"He didn't say," I told her. "But do you know who he looks like?"
She nodded. "He looks like Mordecai."
"Mmm," I hummed.
We'd had vampires claiming to be sons of my uncle and Louis before, even a couple claiming to be Grandfather's long-lost sons, but they'd all been proven to be fakes. But this could have been real.
He looked like my father, for one thing. For another, he was nervous. Vampires claiming to be related to us were never nervous. They were usually confident, or at least pretending to be.
Sarah took a bathroom break, and I fixed her a glass of iced tea.
Just then, Father came in, glaring.
"I smell vampire," he said.
"Yes, something unusual happened," I said. "A vampire came by looking for you. He looks like you, even."
"A vampire who looks like me came looking for me?" His brows furrowed.
"Hey, Dad, is it possible that you have a son somewhere?" I asked.
"I suppose it's possible," he said, frowning. "I've had many, many lovers over the years. I can't remember all their names."
He sniffed the air. "Is Sarah here?"
"She's in the bathroom-"
The doorbell rang, interrupting me again. Father and I looked at each other, and he opened the door. But it was only Louis, carrying a large box.
"You'll never guess what I found!" he said happily. "
"Vinyl records?" I guessed. It turned out, I was right. When he set the box down, I looked inside, and saw a dozen vinyl records.
"Yep! Let's see...Barry Manilow, Journey, REO Speedwagon, Heart, Joan Jett, Janis Joplin, Pink Floyd, Stevie Nicks, Nick Cave...a lot of good ones. I found them at a garage sale. Do you know how rare these are? You don't see much of them around anymore. When they came out with the record player, I was one of the first ones to jump on board."
"He was," Father confirmed.
"Whatcha got there?"
"Where have you been?" I asked my familiar, Shadowfang. He jumped on the table, tail swishing.
"Out in the garden. I killed five snakes, and ate a grasshopper. He was tasty."
"What is it with you and snakes?" I asked.
He avoided answering the question, and instead he looked inside the box. He started to jump in, but Louis grabbed him by the scruff of the neck and set him on the floor.
"Not on the records!"
Louis took the box of records up to his room, and Shadowfang sat in front of the fireplace and pouted about his box being taken away.
"Where's Mishka?" I asked.
"Taking a nap, I expect," Shadowfang replied. "She was playing with the kids earlier." The kids being the kittens, Catniss and Belle. Their son Frodo had gone to live with my best friend, Ariella, and Anakin had gone to live with Mason, my other best friend. They were all familiars, and therefore could take human form at any time. Shadowfang even had a driver's license. His human form was a tall, tanned man with black hair and a thin shadow of a beard with dark brown eyes. His cat eyes were, in fact, yellow.
The door opened again, and my Uncle Soren entered the house, looking as grumpy as ever. He and Father had both lost their loves in the spring. My uncle had taken it especially hard because he and Mitra were on the rocks, so to speak, when she had died. He still blamed himself.
"There is a kid out in the driveway," he growled. "Just sitting there in a black Impala."
"What?" My father went out to look. "I wonder why Louis or I didn't see him?"
"He could have left and then come back," I offered.
"He could have." Father's brows furrowed further. I noticed for the first time that he was starting to look like he was in his mid-thirties. Before that, he looked like he could be in his early thirties or even late twenties. He was over two thousand years old, but he hadn't looked this tired or old before. I knew what Louis had had told me before, though, when I questioned him about Grandfather: all vampires age differently. Some look their age. Others don't age at all. Ones who were humans or Elves before are frozen in time, so to speak.
But natural-borns, like my father, slowly aged over time. Someday, I would look as old as him. My uncle looked like he could be in his late thirties or early forties, and my Grandfather looked like he could be in his fifties, with not a grey hair to spare. His hair was still as vibrant a red as it had ever been. My uncle's hair had a burgundy tone, and my father's was blond. Louis had light brown hair, and my hair is jet black.
We all have similar body types, except for my uncle, who is broad in the shoulders, chest, and stomach, with trunks