“No! You touch her and I’ll kill you with my bare hands!”
Robert pursed his lips. “A possibility, if not an improbability. As that remains to be seen, it will be interesting to see just who kills whom, won’t it?” he whispered, leaning over Carlos in a sick mockery of a lover’s caress. He squinted, and an evil light filled his eyes
His tongue darted over the raw wounds puckering Carlos’s bare chest, his hand plunging roughly between Carlos’s legs. The young man cried out against his will, but Robert’s voice held his body in thrall, a puppeteer jerking his manhood to attention, forcing his body to respond to his harsh ministration.
The tenor and timbre of his voice wielded some kind of power as he taunted, his fist wrapped tightly around Carlos’s reluctant organ. “Full and thick, just the way I thought you would be.” Shedding his clothes, Robert flipped Carlos onto his stomach, running the flat of his hand up the young man’s back, pinning his shoulders to the bed. Forcing his hips up and back, he mercilessly drove his cold, hard member into Carlos’s body, tearing at the man’s core just as his teeth tore again at his throat.
Thrust after pitiless thrust, the vampire grunted and moaned while Carlos’s mind screamed for the release of death. However, the young man’s unwilling heart continued to pump precious blood into Robert’s savage mouth. Powerless in body as well as in spirit, his life slipped soundlessly away while Robert stripped whatever remained of his soul.
Blackness poured into Carlos’s sight and all was silent. Suddenly he was weightless, floating like vapor. He rose, watching with clarity as his body fell away beneath him, yet everything in the room remained as it was. Looking down, he could see himself still on the bed, immobilized as Robert continued to ravage his body.
Blood coated everything, every surface—Carlos’s chest and back, his thighs and buttocks, and all the bedding. Robert’s movements quickened, aided by the slick, crimson fluid until he shuddered, collapsing against Carlos’s silent back.
Detached, Carlos watched Robert rest his cheek against his motionless shoulders in some sick parody of a lover’s cuddle. He could hear the vampire murmur, curling his fingers through Carlos’s limp and bloodied hair, but the words sounded muffled, as if heard at a distance.
Incredulous, Robert’s face turned purple with rage. Sitting up, he grabbed Carlos’s shoulders and flipped him onto his back, the blood-soaked bed protesting in a splatter of crimson. Cursing, the vampire shook Carlos’s body, his eyes searching for some semblance of life. Carlos’s head lolled to one side and Robert slapped the lifeless face, infuriated. With a snarl he tore into his own wrist, force-feeding his own blood past the silent body’s pallid lips.
With a fierce jerk Carlos found himself falling. His eyes flew open and pain ripped through his body. Robert hissed in triumph, slashing at his own throat and forcing Carlos’s face to the wound—urging him to drink, forcing him to swallow his blood.
Carlos struggled, twisting his face away until Robert’s blood covered them both. He begged to die, for the solace it would bring, but Robert forced his face further into the hot liquid.
Choking, Carlos finally drank. The blood was like liquid fire, scoring his throat as he swallowed. He drank until he collapsed into unconsciousness.
***
Carlos heard voices as he drifted in murky confusion. He would wake shortly to a burning fever and each time given blood. He didn’t know from whom or from where, but he gulped at it greedily before sinking back into oblivion.
He had no concept of time, only of the blood until he woke fully one evening to Robert sitting across from him as he had that night on the Soledad.
“Welcome back,” he murmured, lips curving smugly in triumph. “And how do you feel?”
Carlos sat up. He looked around, taking in the room as if seeing it for the first time. He could see and hear everything with such clarity. A tiny brown spider sat in the corner of the window, and he listened to the whisper of its silk as it rushed from its body, watching its tiny mandibles move with such precision, weaving its web. He could hear the smoke from the fire as it wisped through the air, and the thoughts of the servants as they went about their duties in the house.
Carlos covered his ears, trying to muffle the sounds, as Robert laughed. “You’ll get used to the noise. You’ll learn how to separate the sounds and use them to your advantage when hunting.”
“Thirsty.” It was all Carlos could rasp in response.
“Of course, how thoughtless of me… I have brought you a present. Think of it as a sort of commencement gift to start your new life. You are now a dangerous predator, Carlos…in truth, the world’s foremost. Moreover, my blood has made you strong. Oh, the adventures we will have!” he said, clapping his hands together. “Soon you will realize the world is full of prey just ready for the taking. You have no attachments any longer, save me as your maker. When I call you, you will come. When I want you, you will serve.” His eyes blazed as he spoke.
Carlos growled, his eyes flashing. “If you have made me such a predator, what will stop me from making you my prey?”
“The laws of our kind forbid it, and the punishment for killing one’s maker is death. That aside, my bloodline ascends from the oldest of our kind, each passing century adding to its strength. Unlike humans we do not grow feeble with age. We only grow stronger.” He looked pointedly at Carlos. “I know what you are thinking, but I wouldn’t bother if I were you. I am immortal and your sire.”
Carlos scoffed. “Didn’t you say we shall see who kills whom?”
“As a matter of fact I did,” he said, his eyes narrowing. Robert glided across the room and pulled a thick silken cord next to the fireplace.
“Jeffrey!” he bellowed.
Almost immediately the chamber door opened. “You called, sir?” A timid man dressed in butler’s attire answered. His eyes were downcast, and it was obvious he was terrified.
“Bring my son his gift,” Robert said imperiously, ignoring Carlos’s raised eyebrow at the use of the term “son.”
Carlos got up from the bed and began pacing, ignoring the sensual feel of his clothes against his sensitive skin. His new strength radiated from him and he ached with a maddening thirst. Pouring himself a snifter of brandy, he guzzled it down only to choke, sputtering like a child.
“Patience, my boy. You have to accept that you are no longer bound by human standards. Their paltry fare will no longer satisfy you, nor are you held to their perception of right and wrong.”
Carlos sniffed the air. His eyes flashed as he turned toward the door. Robert chuckled from his perch across the room, his own eyes blazing with expectant lust, and he licked his lips in anticipation.
“Carlos? Carlos, where are you?” A female voice called from the hall. “You said he was here, you said he was ill. Which room is he in? I demand you show me!”
Jeffrey opened the door to the bedroom slowly, a young woman in tow. He turned quickly to her, hissing under his breath, “Run! If you value your life, señorita, run!”
“Jeffrey!” Robert snarled. “Bring her in or you die in her place!”
She ignored his warnings and pushed her way forward. “Where is he? Let me pass! I have no fear of illness…” The young woman’s words stopped short in her throat.
“Carlos!” she croaked, her hand trembling at her mouth. With tears in her eyes she ran to him, only to stop short in terror as he turned.
Eyes blazing red, he inhaled, the scent of her blood and her fear driving him to near frenzy. She screamed and tried to run. He grabbed her by her hair and she fell against him crying, begging him to see her, to know her. But he was beyond comprehension, beyond caring.
A sound feral and untamed rumbled at the back of his gullet. He yanked her head sideways and licked her throat, savoring the feel of her pulse beneath his tongue. She struggled, screaming his name, fueling his frenzy till he savagely sank his fangs into her neck.
Her blood on his tongue pushed him over a precipice, beyond consciousne
ss. He was primal, driven by pure instinct. The coppery liquid flowed down his throat like honeyed wine, quenching his burning thirst. It flooded his body and surged through sinew and bone, infusing him with strength and raw power. He wanted more, gorging himself till he heard her heart stutter.
When he finished, her limp body slid from his arms and slumped to the floor. Robert clapped in delight, his eyes gleaming. “A natural talent! Well done! Ha! You have proven my point without even knowing it—our kind has no need of attachments!”
Carlos was still leaning over the woman’s lifeless form when he turned toward Robert. His mouth and chin dripped with red as the last of his bloodlust raced through his body. Cognizance slowly returned and he growled, “What are you prattling on about?”
“Attachments, my boy, or have you no recollection?”
Carlos continued to look at Robert, his eyes blazing even in his bewilderment as the man started to laugh. “You haven’t a clue, do you? Look to the floor and see what I mean. I guess we know now who killed whom!” He threw his head back, laughing.
Carlos jerked his head around. He leaned over and quickly rolled the prone body onto its back. He smoothed the blood-spattered hair away from her face. Isabel! He stared in horror as her once beautiful eyes stared back at him lifeless and accusing. He had murdered her—had lusted for her blood, for her death—and took it without hesitation, without remorse.
He sank to his knees as memories of her flooded his mind, the sudden realization of what he had become too much for him to bear.
“She is of no consequence, my boy, a fleeting moment from your transitory human existence. You are an immortal, and she and all her kind are nothing more than sustenance. Remember that!” Robert’s voice dripped with disdain as he watched Carlos’s regret.
Carlos turned his head slowly. A black hatred filled his eyes. He had already murdered what he loved. Now there was nothing to stop him from murdering what he loathed.
Muscle and sinew tightened, vibrating beneath his skin, his fingernails pushing forward like sharpened claws. A grief-stricken roar broke from his throat, and in that moment Carlos understood what Robert meant when he said, “I am death.”
His fangs slid down, their razor’s edge slicing through still tender gums, and the taste of his own blood fed his rage. Numbness spread along his jaw and cheekbones as they contorted, reshaping his face to match his strange, new nature. He was predator and he had marked his prey. A hiss escaped his throat at the feral sensation, and his body tensed in anticipation. He lunged for Robert’s throat, teeth bared and his hands like scythes.
Raising an eyebrow, the older vampire simply blurred to the side, effortlessly avoiding the assault. Carlos’s head whipped around at the imperceptible movement. How? In the midst of his fury his mind churned and he skidded to a stop, colliding with the bookcase adjacent to the hearth.
Nostrils flaring, Carlos’s chest heaved with the overwhelming scent of blood and sweat, a kaleidoscope of color and movement saturating his vision. In a tumble of wood and broken glass, he stood bracing himself against the soot stained bricks, a wave of vertigo setting his head to spinning. In his heightened state he gagged, bloody vomit rising into his throat.
Robert lounged unperturbed against a chair a few feet away, casually flicking splinters from his waistcoat. “Really, Carlos, anger is such a juvenile emotion, its impetus a feeding ground for a clumsy means of attack.” Straightening his vest, he rose to standing, his movements like quicksilver, graceful yet cold.
“What’s wrong, my boy? You don’t look so well. Your new state of being giving you a bit of trouble? Well, I do suppose it could take a bit of getting used to. Perhaps you should give this plan of yours another think, eh? At least, until your senses stop reeling.” His eyes narrowed, watching Carlos’s hate flash white-hot. “No? More is the pity, then.” Inclining his head, Robert stepped his foot back and bowed mockingly, his arms spread in invitation.
Gritting his teeth against the dizziness, Carlos wheeled around, but a swift backhand sent him crashing against the high four-poster bed, destroying the headboard and supporting posts.
“Can’t you see your efforts are wasted? Accept what you are. I’ve made you a prince. Why do you insist on fighting me?” Kicking pillows and broken wood out of the way, Robert frowned at Carlos’s inert form sprawled across the ruined bed, blood dripping from his ears from the impact.
Sidestepping the debris, the older vampire squatted at the foot of the broken bed beside Isabel’s crumpled body to wait. Head cocked, he glanced sideways as the young vampire stirred, already healing from the blow.
“In time you’ll learn to harness your power and anticipate an opponent’s attack.” Leaning forward, he ran his fingers along Isabel’s pale cheek, dipping them into the blood pooled beneath her throat. “You’ll also learn to be less hasty when you feed. Waste not, want not. Isn’t that the saying?” he added, rubbing his fingertips together slowly.
Carlos half growled, half moaned his response, the ringing in his ears beginning to recede.
“Tell me you didn’t relish the taste of her, the silky feel of her blood on your tongue, that you didn’t crave more,” Robert demanded, passing his fingers beneath his nose. The older vampire inhaled, his expression rapt as if savoring the bouquet of a fine wine. “So fresh, so young. Even cooled on the floor the scent makes me hunger.”
Robert stood, his body uncoiling like a viper ready to strike. “You belong to me, Carlos. Your blood is mine,” he said, licking Isabel’s blood from his hand in a slow taunt. Wiping his fingers on his shirt, he stared pointedly at his progeny. “Concede, Carlos. You cannot kill me, so I suggest you end this silly game because I grow bored of it.”
“Never!” Carlos snapped, exploding to his feet. The truth of his surreal reality bloomed cold and rigid in his mind. The life he knew was over. Stolen. But he’d be damned before handing over whatever life he had left. He charged Robert again, a piece of jagged wood clutched in his hand aiming straight for the vampire’s heart.
A disgusted sound let loose from Robert’s mouth. Launching himself at Carlos, he seized the younger vampire by the shoulders and threw him against the wall. Carlos crashed into what remained of the headboard, splitting it further down the middle.
“Such a disappointment,” Robert uttered his tone both sulky and accusing. Grabbing Carlos by the hair, he dragged him away from the wall.
Listing to the side, Carlos’s arms swung wildly, slashing at Robert’s chest, but the older vampire simply spun him around, wrenching the makeshift stake from his hand. Air rushed from Carlos’s lungs as his back hit Robert’s chest like a stone wall, his spine and ribs reverberating with the impact.
Robert didn’t flinch. In seconds he had Carlos in a headlock, his forearm crushing his throat like a walnut. With his free hand he pressed the jagged edge of the makeshift stake into the younger vampire’s chest, piercing the flesh above his heart. “Lesson one. To dispatch a vampire, you must cut out its heart. Staking merely slows us down,” Robert hissed.
Eyes bulging, Carlos’s hands searched frantically to the front and sides for something to use, but found nothing. He gurgled as air escaped through crushed cartilage.
Dropping the stake, Robert continued pitilessly. “Lesson two. Decapitation. The head must also be completely severed.” The older vampire squeezed tighter, this time fisting Carlos’s hair, twisting his neck to almost breaking. Adding insult to injury, he whispered intimately, feathering kisses along Carlos’s corded neck. “Otherwise, lover, we rise again.”
With another bone-crunching squeeze Carlos’s neck popped audibly. The realization he no longer required air hadn’t yet dawned, and panic raced through his body as he tried in vain to draw breath. Forcing himself to relax he let go, concentrating instead on his new senses. Delving into his own mind he targeted speed and strength until they were all that encompassed him.
With Robert’s arms still around his neck, Carlos reached up and over, grabbing him by the back
of his collar. From the corner of his eye he saw the fractured edge of the bedpost, and centering all his strength and speed he dropped to one knee, flipping the older vampire onto the post’s sharp, uneven tip.
In seconds, the serrated wood shredded Robert’s torso, its bloody edge nailing him to the broken bed frame. Carlos’s fingers pierced flesh and bone, his hands breaking open the older vampire’s chest, exposing his cold, dead heart. Ripping it from its cavity he held it, bloody and black, dripping from one hand.
Stunned, Robert’s eyes bulged in disbelief. But even as their light dimmed, they narrowed shrewdly, and a last evil smile spread across his lips. “I’ll see you in hell, my boy.”
Robert’s head fell forward, but Carlos knew it wasn’t finished. With a roar he pulled his hand back, and with a single strike ripped Robert’s head from his shoulders.
What was left of him turned to ash, coating the room in a dirty, grey veneer. Isabel’s portrait clattered to the floor from Robert’s waistcoat, still hanging bloody and limp from the jagged post. Carlos’s shoulders slumped in exhaustion as he bent to reclaim it. His body ached and his brain was numb, but his relief was short lived. Falling to his knees his mind chased the same thought. Christ in heaven, what have I become?
Blood and gore spattered every surface in the room. Desolate, he picked up Isabel’s limp body and placed her gently on the broken bed. He wept as he tried to close the wound at her throat, falling to his knees again. He tried to pray for forgiveness, but was no longer sure God would hear his prayers.
He lay with his head on Isabel’s cold hand, not sure what to do. The only other of his kind he knew lay dead by his hand. He calmed himself enough that he could once again distinguish the sounds coming from the house, and heard a distinct heartbeat loitering just outside the room. Jeffrey.
Carlos stood and turned toward the sound. “Jeffrey!” he yelled.
The Cursed by Blood Saga Page 55
