Immortal Unchained(12)
That would be karma, Sarita thought and was smiling at the idea when she noticed the envelope leaning up against the desk lamp. Smile fading as she saw that her name was on it, she snatched it up and started to sit in the desk chair only to be pointedly reminded of the knives she'd sheathed in the strap of the thong she wore. Literally. A quick poke from a couple of the blades was enough to make her straighten and decide to remain standing.
The envelope wasn't sealed. Setting down the butcher knife, Sarita lifted the flap and pulled out the letter inside, then unfolded and read the message on the fine vellum paper.
Dear Sarita,
Your clothing was blood encrusted. Asherah cleaned you up and put you to bed.
Sarita sagged against the desk as those first words sent memories washing over her. Dr. Dressler's lab. The poor man cut in half. Dr. Dressler and the woman arriving. Blood splashing over her as that poor immortal tried to scream and-Immortals? Bio-engineered nanos? Her head spun briefly as everything Dressler had told her washed back into her mind, and then she recalled the shot he'd given her in the neck.
"Bastard," she muttered with a disgust that was directed at herself as much as him. While it seemed obvious he was a scumbag, she should have been more alert. She should have noticed the movement when he'd reached out to inject her, and she should have batted his hand away or something.
Taking a deep breath, she counted to three and reminded herself that she wasn't Wonder Woman. No one was. She did the best she could and regret was a waste of energy that could be directed toward more useful endeavors.
"Right," she muttered. "Let's get on with it."
Raising the letter, she started again.
Dear Sarita,
Your clothes were blood encrusted and ruined. Asherah cleaned you up and put you to bed.
It occurred to me once you'd lost consciousness that I didn't explain the importance of your being a life mate. From what I can gather it appears a life mate is chosen by the nanos in their host, and are rare creatures that the immortal cannot read or control, and can live happily with throughout his or her life. They are also few and far between. Some immortals apparently wait centuries or even millennia to find theirs. While some have been fortunate enough to find one, lose them, and later, usually much later, find another, there are other immortals who never find even one life mate. So life mates are valued more than anything else in an immortal's life.
It seems immortals-like gibbons or wolves-mate for life. Not because of any moral standard, but quite simply because another mate would not satisfy their needs. What I've been told is that life mates suit each other in every way, and that life mate sex is like no other-powerful and overwhelming to the point where both parties faint or pass out at the end. I suspect that the nanos must cause this by releasing a rush of the relevant hormones.
I also understand that life mates find each other irresistible, and in fact often spend weeks or even months in bed on first meeting. I tell you this so that you know there is no reason to believe I will think less of you if you find yourself doing the same thing, or even let the man bed you on your first meeting. I expect that.
Sarita snorted at the comment. She didn't give a crap what a whackjob like Dressler thought of her. She'd sleep with whoever she wanted whenever she wanted. Although, frankly, she wasn't a one-night-stand kind of gal or one likely to "drop trou" on first meeting someone either. Sarita's father had been an old-fashioned type of man; he'd also been overprotective and insisted on meeting every male she'd ever dated. She knew without a doubt that he'd given every one of them the "hell hath no fury like a father whose baby has been groped by some horny teen" speech, quickly followed by the "I have a big backyard to bury you in" speech. She was lucky she'd got laid at all.
Shaking her head, Sarita turned her attention back to the letter, quickly finding where she'd left off.
"Yada yada first meeting," she murmured as she found the spot.
Now, do not be alarmed. You are in the home my wife and I first inhabited on moving to Venezuela. We lived there for a year as we waited for our house on the island to be built. I had it renovated and updated some months ago in anticipation of this eventuality. I hope you find it comfortable and to your liking.
Everything there has been supplied for your use.
The refrigerator and cupboards in the kitchen are stocked full of food and will be refilled as necessary. The wine rack in the dining room is full of vintages I thought you might enjoy.
Sarita's mouth tightened. It was sounding like he expected she would be there for a very long time. He had another think coming.
You have met your life mate, although it was long enough ago that you may not recall. Apparently you were thirteen when you first entered his restaurant in Caracas. He recognized that you were his life mate, but was gentleman enough not to claim you while so young. Instead, he decided to let you live your life and grow up first and put a private detective on your tail who, for the last fifteen years, has fed him monthly reports on your life.