The Return of Nicholas Collins

Much to her agitation, the band played another slow song and Rachel soon found out that old habits die hard as she fell into step with his rhythm. She'd danced so often with him for a majority of her vampire life that it was as natural for her to move with him as it was for a human to breathe air.

"You're not an easy person to find," he said sternly.

"Humph, if I had known you were looking I would've made it a lot harder for you to find me," she said sharply, "But after a hundred and fifty some odd years I kind of figured I wouldn't see you again."

"You know why I haven't contracted..."

She interrupted him, "No, I don't and you know what, I don't give a damn," she said loudly, her voice drawing the attention of the other guests.

She counted to ten slowly, taking deep breaths before she spoke once more, "All I want to know is why are you here now? After all this time, why show up tonight?"

He stared into her eyes hard, his jaw muscles jerking beneath his dark beard. As the song ended he dipped her toward the floor, a lock of his ebony hair falling toward her face, and whispered harshly, "I'm here tonight because someone is trying to kill me."

*

Chapter 2

He brought them slowly into the upright position. Her heartbeat pounded in his ears as the shock of his statement moved across her beautiful face. She stared at him without blinking and he watched as the anger and hurt fled to be replaced by fear and concern.

Nicholas was surprised when she gently lay a trembling hand, evidence of just how much his revelation effected her, to the side of his face. He closed his eyes and savored the soft caress of her hand, the easy stroke of her thumb, against his bearded cheek.

He covered the back of her hand with his, stilling her movements and opened his eyes. He'd known Rachel for so many centuries now. Their long history had been a rocky one. When he changed her that night in the clearing he had no idea that she would become such a major part of his life, and though she didn't know it, a part of his heart.

Those first months while he taught her the ways of her new vampiric life, he thought of her as a student. After he helped her get revenge on the men who had invaded her wedding, he figured she would leave him behind, but she never left him. That is she never left him till he drove her away.

She started to speak then frowned and looked down toward the floor where a little girl tugged on her dress. "What is it, sweetie?"

The blonde headed girl danced excitedly, "I was hoping you could help me, Aunt Rachel."

His brow furrowed as the words 'Aunt Rachel' bounced around inside him. Logically there were several reasons that the girl would call her that but his mind seemed to stick on one idea and his anger instantly started to boil.

He took a step away from her then nodded his head, "Go ahead and help her, Rachel, we can talk later tonight."

She walked away from him with the little girl's hand tucked within her own and sat at a near by table. He watched the interaction between the two, saw the light in Rachel's eyes and the almost motherly look that came over her face, then he looked away, sadness wiping away his anger as a never forgotten memory rushed over him.

During the first three days of Rachel's rebirth as a vampire, Nicholas never gave her a chance to think about the death of her family and loved ones. There had been too much that she needed to know to survive in her new life for him to let her think of that tragic night. But the fourth night, after she had fed and settled down for her next lesson, he deliberately left her alone.

He had stood at the top of the stairwell that led down to their underground sleeping chambers and waited with his senses open. He knew an instant before she screamed out that her memories had found her.

Her anger washed over him hot and thick. Loud crashes and sounds of shattering glass filled the air, drowning out her shouting voice. Little by little though, her anger faded and turned to pure heartbreaking grief.

He had tried to stay away from her, to give her the space she needed to cry her tears, to unleash all the pain in her heart for her loss, but he couldn't. There was no way he could stay away from her, not after he heard the heartache in her voice as she cried out in grief for her unborn baby.

Nicholas shook his head, breathed in deep to clear the lingering memory from his mind and searched the festive party crowd for Rachel. He found her near the stage with the girl beside her, talking to a tall, skinny guy with black spiky hair and a guitar strapped to his body. The little girl suddenly threw her arms around Rachel's neck and Nicholas saw the look that came across Rachel's face. As she hugged the girl close he knew, without reading her mind, that she was thinking about the unborn child she had lost.

Rachel would have been a great mother, he thought, as the two hurried across the dance floor.

He grabbed a glass of champagne off the tray of a passing waiter as the guy with the spiked hair went to the microphone and asked for the groom to come to the dance floor. A man with dark blond curly hair, wearing a tuxedo came out of the crowd and looked toward the stage.

"Now, John," the guy on stage said, "there is a beautiful young lady who came to us and said she wanted to dance with you." John's eyebrows shot skyward as he turned around the center of the floor slowly, peering at all the guests, trying to figure out which woman it might be.

The guy's smile at the microphone became huge as he said, "Young lady, please step out onto the floor and collect your dance."

Nicholas looked over at Rachel, expecting her to walk over to the groom, but instead he saw her kneeling down beside the little girl, who seemed to have turned suddenly quiet and shy. A few seconds later the little girl moved toward the groom, whose smile turned so bright at the sight of her, it could have lit up the whole city.

At first, when the music started, the groom bent his knees and held onto the girl's hands to dance, but soon he scooped her up into one arm and twirled and traveled around the dance floor, making her giggle and laugh.

Nicholas felt some relief, as it became obvious to him that the groom was the father of the little girl. He had been wondering who the child's father was and what type of relationship he had with Rachel. Now that he knew the man was only a friend, he felt foolish over the fury and jealousy he had felt when Rachel had first walked away with the little girl.

His gaze went to Rachel's face and he barely stopped himself from crushing the glass in his hand. She was hurting. He felt the pain of it touch his senses, smelt the salt of the tears that she was struggling to hold back as she watched John and his daughter dance. She lifted her hand quickly to cover her mouth and he knew that the torrent of emotions inside her had made her teeth slide down into place. Her eyes suddenly widened and the dam that had been holding back her tears seemed to have broken as they poured down her cheeks.

He looked to see what had caused her to lose the battle. There on the dance floor John and his little girl were both waving and smiling at someone to join him and her. Out of the surrounding crowd stepped a striking woman in a body hugging gown who had tears in her own eyes as she made her way to them.

He turned his vision back to Rachel only to find her gone. He scanned the faces around the edge of the floor quickly, worry building inside him. He spotted her at last near the entrance of the tent, pushing her way through the crowd and stepping into the darkness.

Rachel, not wanting to look foolish, made her way toward the exit as quickly as possible. She stopped at the edge of the tent and looked back. Her heart ached at the incredibly joyful expression on her friend's face as she danced with her new husband and daughter. Quietly she turned away, leaving the beautiful, but painful, scene behind for the darkness of the outdoors.

In her search for solitude she came upon a peaceful fountain, its water trickling gently into the crystal clear pool at its base. The angel that rose high above from the center peered downward, its concrete eyes haunting in their scrutiny. "It's times like this that I wish death had found me all those years ago," she said, sitting on a bench as the tears seeped from her eyes, her will to keep the pain buried, broken.

A white handkerchief appeared before her face, held there by a manicured, but masculine hand. She resisted the urge to take it, not wanting to admit to him that her control had slipped, that her weakness was there, visible for him to see.

"Take the damn handkerchief and use it before you ruin your dress," he said, a slight growl in his voice.

She snatched it from him and wiped the blood from her face and eyes. "You just couldn't let me be, could you, Nicholas?"

Powerful hands began to massage her shoulders from behind, kneading the knotted muscles beneath the curtain of her hair. His fingertips worked at the base of her skull as he said, "I couldn't stay away, Rachel, not when you were out here, alone and hurting."

"Why does it still hurt so much? Why can't the past disappear and leave me alone?" She achingly whispered.

He brushed his fingers through the length of her hair, fanning it out around her. "Because when you love someone, Rachel, it intensifies everything you feel. Every joy is brighter, every ache is sharper, but most of all, every loss, no matter how it comes about, is harsher too."

He eased her backwards to rest against his body, her head cushioned against his hard stomach. Tenderly he caressed both sides of her face with the backs of his fingers. "Good or bad, love burns memories into your heart and soul so that you never forget."

She struggled with herself not to react to his touch. A long time ago she would have done anything he asked, for an intimate moment like this, but not now. To much had happen that last night they were together, to much pain caused by him that had made her leave him, the only man who had touched her so deeply since Dunn had died.

Removing his hands from her face, she said, "Sit down and tell me what's going on, Nicholas. Must be very serious to risk personal contact with me."

He sat down abruptly, facing the opposite direction and sighed deeply. His shoulder bumped hers as he shifted beside her and the flash of heat she felt quickly made her move away till several inches of space was between them. "Yes it is Rachel. Two of my best daytime bodyguards have turned up dead in the past month."

She let that statement sink in, fighting her need to hold him close and comfort him, to ease the pain she heard in his voice. Chilled, she forced her words pass the lump in her throat, needing to know just how close someone had came to killing him. "They died while on duty protecting you?"

"No, they were both off duty at the time they were killed, but I have no idea if either of them gave up any information about me, or my routines and habits." His anger and agitation were so strong they bombarded her mind without even looking into his eyes. "The police don't have any clues as to who killed them and I haven't been able to investigate their deaths myself for trying to find you."

Whipping her head around her eyes widened in shock. "Someone's trying to kill you and you come looking for me, why?"

He turned to look at her slowly, the underwater lights of the fountain reflected in his eyes, making them shimmer. "Because until I learn who is killing those around me, I'm not letting you out of my sight."

Dread settled across her shoulders and stiffened her spine. "Please tell me that I just heard you wrong."

He leaned close, "Until I know you're safe, Rachel, consider me your shadow."

She surged to her feet, "You're out of your mind if you think I'm going to let that happen."

His hand shot out and grabbed her arm, pulling her down hard on to the concrete bench. His other hand cradled her chin, applying enough force to keep her from jerking her head away. "I don't give a damn about what you want to happen. We're going to do this my way whether you want to or not."

She snarled and yanked away from him his grip. Standing, she looked down on him and growled, "If I thought it would get you out of my life, Nicholas, I'd go ahead and save the killer the trouble by staking you myself, but I know you would only come back and haunt me if I did."

She walked away from him but felt his presence soon follow. The night seemed to drag and she desperately wanted to leave. She groaned and tried to hide when the announcement for all the single women to gather for the bouquet toss was made. She thought she was safe till Kelly grabbed the microphone, "Rachel, I know you're out there and I'm not tossing the bouquet until you get up here."

Everyone turned and stared at her, smiling and laughing at her discomfort. Weaving through the guests she locked eyes with Kelly where she stood upon the stage and mentally said, I have a few ideas what you can do with those stupid flowers.

The only response she got from her was a big grin she had on her face as she watched her stand at the edge of the group of women.

Kelly turned her back to the mostly anxious crowd of ladies as the band's drummer began a slow drum roll, building in tempo till she threw the bouquet over her shoulder, stopping with the crash of a cymbal as it was caught.

Rachel stood there in amazement, wondering how the flowers had landed in her arms. A warm breath swept across the side of her neck as Nicholas said, "Looks like you're the next victim."

She angrily whirled and faced him, "The sun will stop rising before I'm foolish enough to fall in love and marry again."

She went to pass by him, accidentally bumping into him, when he spun her around and trapped her face between his hands. "Marriage is exactly what you need, Rachel," he whispered harshly, then kissed her hard.

The touch of his mouth froze her. This was the first time they had ever kissed, at least like this, and it scattered her thoughts, leaving her senseless. The need to run came over her. She tried to pull away, but his large hands tightened, holding her in place for the brush of his tongue. Shivering, she dropped the bouquet and brought her hands between them with intentions of pushing him away, then his kiss changed.

The harshness of his lips softened. The pressure of his hands on her face eased as his thumbs caressed her burning skin. Against her mouth he whispered, "Kiss me, Rachel." He stroked his tongue across her lips again. "Let me taste that fire inside."

She moaned and clenched the lapels of his suit, pulling him closer as she parted her lips. His tongue slid in cool and swift, stroking deep as she opened to him. She wound her arms around his waist and pressed her breasts into his chest, her nipples stiffening from the contact of his hard body.

He shifted her in his arms, pulled her hips to his and swallowed her groan as he rubbed her against the length of his ridged cock, throbbing as the scent of her arousal climbed up between them to fill his lungs.

The need she thought dead surged to life. Hungers long denied, surfaced. She sucked at his tongue, his lower lip and then bit him. Both of them growled as she licked the blood from his wound.

Catcalls and wolf whistles broke the spell of his kiss that had surrounded her. Dazed she stared into his eyes and saw what she knew was reflected in her own, except for one thing. She knew in her heart that he didn't love her, not like she had loved him for centuries.

Hands at her side she clenched them into fists. She was angry with him for stirring feelings she had buried so long ago back to life. She was angry for allowing her control to slip and for letting herself give into his kiss, but most of all she was embarrassed because now he knew that she still had feelings for him.

Raw and exposed, she turned and without a backward glance she left him standing there, the bouquet lying at his feet. In her car, tears streamed down her face as she pulled away from what was suppose to be a joyful night, part of her wishing she had never met Nicholas.

***

The rear of the property was well beyond the lights and sounds of the wedding reception. Obvious to all the guests a dark form sat on the ground beneath an old oak tree, leaning against its solid trunk.

Lowering a pair of high powered night vision goggles, the form grinned wickedly in the darkness, not believing its luck as it watched a tall woman walk away from the male vampire inside the tent. "Thank you very much, Collins. You just gave me the bait I need to lure you to your death."

Chapter 3

Rachel pulled into her driveway and parked the car in the garage. Walking toward the house, she stopped in her tracks because there on her back porch steps sat Nicholas, bouquet in hand and duffle bag sitting beside him. His suit coat and vest were off, his tie hung loose around his neck and his white dress shirt was unbuttoned halfway down his chest.

She moved slowly, wishing she had time to turn around and go to another one of her homes. He stood up as she came closer, his long lethal form devastating to any woman's eyes, moving aside so that she could climb the steps. Once inside she tossed her keys onto the kitchen counter, and without a backward glance or word of acknowledgement to him, went up the back stairs to her bedroom.

She stripped quickly from her wedding garb and showered. The water would have normally massaged her weariness away, but not this time. Nothing was going to take away the feelings that Nicholas' kiss had re-birthed.

Feeling only marginally better she stood in front of her closet and stared longingly at her favorite nightgown. "That man is disturbing too much of my life already and he's only been back in it a few hours," she mumbled as she flipped through her clothes. Aggravated she jerked on a black pair of cotton shorts and a matching t-shirt then hurried downstairs.

Outside of the study, she watched him. He stood before one of the floor to ceiling bookshelves, a copy of Poe's poems in his hand, delicately turning the pages. Carefully he slid the book into its place then let his fingers dance across the bindings of the other classics that rested beside it. "I see you still collect books. Do you read them or are they just for show?"

"Who would I empress if they were just for show, Nicholas?" She said sarcastically, strolling across the room to the bar. "One of the benefits of being a vampire is I don't have to try and keep up with the Jones' and as for friends; they are few and far between."

"Still can't take a joke can you, Rachel?"

She removed a bottle of wine from the rack beneath the bar and poured herself a drink. Swirling it in her glass she looked at him, "When it comes from you, no, I can't."

Without offering him a drink she crossed the room and sat down on the cream color sofa, meeting his hard gaze as he moved behind the bar. "So what have you been doing since we were last together?" He asked as he filled a glass with whiskey.

I tried to get away from you and your memory, she thought miserably. "Not that it's any of your business, but I've traveled, like most vampires have, to see the sights and to keep anyone from noticing that I don't age. Other than that I've had myself a very, very good time," she grinned wickedly.

He downed his whiskey and sat the glass on the bar top with a heavy thump and refilled it. The glare he shot at her could have drilled a hole right through her. "Couldn't have been to good a time if they looked like that cupcake you were dancing with tonight," he said with a nasty smirk on his face.

Her skin burned as she tried to hold on to her temper. She knew what the bastard was doing. He was trying damn hard to get her riled up like he did in the past. She refused to give him the satisfaction.