Immortal Obsession Read Online Free Page B

ancestry. It was her mother, Catherine Richard, who had muddied the waters of her perfect French lineage by marrying an Italian.
    Fascinated by both French history and her own genealogy, Amanda had researched her family tree back to a Monique Moulin, who had been born in California in 1842. She had married Charles Devereaux and come to New York at the turn of the century, where she died in 1901. Amanda knew nothing more about Monique except what a New York census could tell her. Her relatives were names and dates on a page, and for some reason the trail had gone cold with Monique. Though Amanda had no proof, she sensed her family had fled France and gone to England during the French Revolution.
    “Where are you living?” She asked impulsively.
    “There’s this place in the West Village I’ve been hanging out—”
    “A halfway house, I hope.”
    “Well, not really. Ryan sighed and ran his hands through his hair. He began to walk toward the tunnel as a couple passed them.
    Amanda followed hesitantly.
    “There’s this club …” He stared straight ahead as he walked. “I give blood and I get paid so I can buy—”
    “What do you mean, you give blood?” She stopped him. “Ryan, what the hell are you talking about?”
    He seemed distracted, more distant than she remembered.
    “Here.” She reached into the side pocket of her leather purse for a fifty-dollar bill. “This is all I have.”
    “Thanks a lot, ’Man. You always come through for me.” He gave her the same line every time.
    “Yeah.” She fought back tears, promising to make this short and sweet. “That’s my lot in life, I guess. Always there for you.”
    There was so much she wanted to say, but then, what was the use of it?
    “I’d better go now,” he announced, giving her a weak smile.
    “What are those marks, Ryan? She noticed marks on his neck, just below his left ear. They looked like puncture wounds.
    “I told you I give blood to …” He reached up and touched the wounds.
    “Ryan, who are these people you are hanging out with?”
    “No, it’s what are they … they’re … beautiful and different, Amanda.”
    “Why don’t you come home with me tonight, let me help—”
    “I gotta get back. One of them owes me money. He promised to pay me later.”
    “Where is this place?” She ran her hand through her hair, something she did when she got angry. “Who are these people?”
    “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you, baby sister. I am well taken care of.” He glanced off into space, and at that moment Amanda felt afraid for him. There had been a time when they could read each other’s thoughts, and then it had stopped. She blamed it on the drugs.
    “You don’t appear to be well taken care of, Ryan. Let me get you cleaned up and—”
    “I can’t, Amanda. I give them my blood and … it doesn’t hurt and—”
    “Ryan, you aren’t making sense. Why would anyone take your blood?”
    “They are vampires, man. In fact, the guy I was just with was asking about you. He musta read my mind.”
    At that moment, she thought he was delusional. Later she would think about their conversation often, replaying it in her mind.
    “Ryan, you aren’t making any sense.” Panic gripped her as he pulled away.
    “You’re a great sister.” He smiled and tried to hug her again. “I gotta go.”
    “Fine. Keep in touch.” She choked back tears.
    Their eyes locked, and for brief second she recognized him, which made the moment all the more painful. She turned, listening to her footsteps on the pavement. Amanda tried to put him out of her mind. It wasn’t like she was responsible for him, but he always haunted her. She was almost out of the tunnel when she decided to turn back. Maybe she could catch him, and maybe it could be different this time.
    Suddenly, the echo of his screams filled the tunnel.
    “Ryan?” She ran back into the darkness, away from the crowds at the Boathouse.
    In the streetlight she saw them, but it took a second