The Cursed by Blood Saga

by Marianne Morea

  He felt a sense of comfort and peace flow past him and was surprised. The place wasn’t what he had expected. It was beautiful, decorated more like a posh hotel with every amenity than a health care facility. He could still smell the old age, illness, and death all around him, but it wasn’t overpowered by despair. Instead, the place smelled of hope.

  “Isabel?” He reached out again with his mind. He stopped in mid-step and turned toward the door on his left. Placing his hand on the knob, he turned it clockwise. As he pushed it open, unexpected warmth tingled along his spine. He had found her.

  The tiny woman lying on the bed filled him with awe. She had changed so much, yet an overwhelming desire to hold her in his arms washed over him, but she looked too delicate for even the simplest touch.

  “Carlos. At last…” her voice whispered through his mind.

  “I’m here, mi vida, just as I promised. But, Isa—how is it you’re still alive?” he asked as he came toward the bed. The smell of death was strong all around her as he took her small hand in his. The feel of her skin was soft, and he could still sense the faint spark of their connection as their hands touched.

  “Your blood, my love. That’s how I come to still be here.” Her voice was as frail as she was as it vibrated in the air between them. “When you gave me your blood to heal me all those years ago, you also gave me another gift. Don’t you remember what you said to me? I asked if you were angel or demon, and you replied you no longer knew, but that I was going to live. You prayed I would be happy.”

  Carlos thought back to that horrible night. He remembered the manservant had told him something about the blood extending a human’s lifetime. But this? Never in his long existence would he have guessed he meant this prolonged a life.

  “I’ve lived a few lifetimes thanks to you, Carlos. I’ve witnessed so many things, both wondrous as well as monstrous. It’s been quite an adventure, but now my time has finally come.”

  “Isabel,” he hesitated. “Your life…has it...have you been contented?” Carlos’s voice rang from his mind, heavy with questions too difficult to ask aloud.

  Throughout his existence, he had convinced himself Isabel’s life had been happy, that she had lived it to the fullest. Faced with the reality that she had lived for as long as he had, it followed suit she had probably spent most of it alone. She was inevitably the one left standing graveside as she buried loved ones and friends as the years went by.

  Carlos turned his head unable to face the sadness he expected to hear in her voice as her thoughts continued to drift through his head. With his jaw clenched, he cursed himself and that night.

  “Carlos,” Isabel whispered. “I have known great happiness as well as great sadness in my long life, but such would be the case if I’d had but one life to live. The greatest gift you gave me was Jeffrey. When you entrusted me to his care, he became both my truest friend as well as my truest love. We eventually married, reinventing our lives as time required. We had many children, and yes, we had the sad burden of burying almost all of them as the years passed. I lost him more than twenty years ago, but the last of our family remains with me and for that, I am blessed. Through you I have had a love that truly spanned the centuries, and for that I will be forever grateful.”

  Carlos leaned on the bed and carefully placed a kiss on her wrinkled cheek, lingering for a moment as he breathed in her scent, committing it to memory.

  “You know, that’s not exactly how you promised you’d kiss me goodbye,” Isabel said aloud, her voice thin and a little weak, but her eyes sparkling with mischief.

  Carlos grinned, and his shoulders slumped a little in relief. Isabel was still dying, but at least now, he’d be able to ask her forgiveness and fulfill his promise the way he envisioned it.

  “You haven’t changed a bit, mi vida, have you?” he said as he brought her hand to his lips.

  “You must be as blind with old age as I am if that’s what you think,” she said with a weak smile. “But, I guess you’ll always see me as I was…but you see, Carlos, I have changed. I haven’t been the polite, quietly demure young girl you once knew in a very long time. The years have made me independent and strong, and quite frankly I like the person I’ve become.”

  He smiled. “So do I, mi vida.” Leaning forward, he ran his finger along the thin gold chain hanging around her neck. Gently he picked up the delicate locket that lay across her breast.

  “I told you I would always keep it with me,” she whispered, covering his hand with hers.

  Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out the fragile miniature she had given him so many years before. Holding it in his palm, he lifted it for her to see. “As did I,” he said his voice thick. “And I always will.”

  Her hand still covered his, and he closed his eyes for a moment. He took a deep breath, and when he opened them again, he stared down at her with one question burning on his lips. “Can you ever forgive me?”

  She tilted her head, looking at him thoughtfully for a moment. “There’s nothing to forgive. We each live the life God has ordained, regardless of what kind of existence that turns out to be. I truly believe he has a plan for each of us, and that there are reasons certain things are left as mysteries. What happened to you was not of your making…and don’t look at me like that! Jeffrey told me everything. He told me how much you struggled so I might live. He told me you fought to keep whatever humanity was left to you. It’s obvious to me now that you never lost that battle, and for that, I am grateful. My memories of you are of a good and decent man, and it’s clear to me those qualities followed you into this existence. It’s who you are, Carlos, and who you’ll always be.

  “Your wish for me was that I live and be happy, and now it is also my wish for you. Still, if my giving you absolution affords you the release you need to find that happiness, then so be it. I forgive you.”

  Carlos clenched his jaw against the blood tears that threatened, but a single drop managed to escape down his cheek. “Thank you, Isa.” A huge weight suddenly lifted from his chest, and he felt light. Wiping his eyes on his shirtsleeve, they both laughed at the mess it made.

  “Comes with the territory,” he said with a shrug, cuffing his sleeve.

  Isabel smiled tiredly, then closed her eyes. The air around them had changed subtly, and Carlos knew her time had come. He wanted to do something for her, ease her in some way, but didn’t know what he could do.

  “Isabel, do you want me to take you somewhere? You don’t have to stay here, mi vida. I’ll take you wherever you want to go.”

  “No, Carlos, I want to be here. I still need to say goodbye.”

  He wondered for a moment to whom she still needed to say goodbye, then remembered she said she still had family and he couldn’t help but wonder about them. Instinctively he inhaled, and the scent that registered through the haze of death and illness hit him in the stomach, knocking the air from his lungs like a punch to the solar plexus.

  “Trina,” he whispered.

  Isabel eyes flew open. “Trina?” She looked at him now, her eyes narrowing. “Carlos, how do you know my great-granddaughter?”

  Carlos’s mind whirled as all the puzzle pieces fell together. The familiarity, the way his mind danced with memories when he tasted Trina’s blood. His face was incredulous as disbelief flooded through him. Of all the people in the world, how could it be? Maybe Isabel was right, and they were all just part of God’s greater plan.

  “Carlos, you’re not answering me. How do you know Trina?”

  Grinning, he walked back and forth like he couldn’t contain himself. “Isabel, I had no idea she was your great-granddaughter, but now everything makes sense,” he said, as he paced. “Now all the little things that didn’t fit, all the little clues…maybe I just wasn’t paying close enough attention.”

  He turned suddenly and came back to the edge of the bed, taking Isabel’s hand. “We only just met this week—and Isa, she’s unlike anyone I’ve ever met. I think I love her.”

  He
looked at the old woman with such intensity it was as if he was seeing her for the first time. “Don’t look at me that way, Isabel. I’m no monster, and I have no intention of hurting Trina. But if you want me to leave here and never see her again, then I will respect your dying wish.”

  What he didn’t tell the old woman was that Trina might have already decided that for them. He opened his mouth to say something else when the door opened.

  “What are you doing here? Get away from her! Help. Help!” Trina yelled as she picked up an empty bedpan and started beating Carlos over the head with it.

  He threw his hands up in front of him, trying to fend off her assault. “Trina, stop it…it’s not what you think. Stop, you’re going to hurt yourself.”

  “It’s not what I think? That’s what you said earlier this morning when you suddenly grew fangs! What are you doing here? Are you stalking me, hunting me and my family?”

  She gasped, “Oh, sweet Jesus…no! Nanita!” Trina ran to the old woman’s bedside. She searched her face and neck, looking for any signs of attack. She took her great-grandmother’s hands in hers and turned them over, inspecting her forearms and wrists when suddenly the old woman jerked her hands back.

  “Trina, stop it! Carlos is right,” she said, smacking Trina’s hands away. “You need to calm down and let us explain before you make yourself crazy. I’m fine. Carlos would never hurt me.”

  Trina’s eyes few open as she looked from one to the other. “You two know each other?” she asked, her mouth hanging open in shock.

  “Yes, mi niña, I have known Carlos for quite a while. More than two hundred years, in fact, and no, I am not insane, nor am I delusional as most people have thought,” Isabel said huffily. “I heard you what you said to me when you thought I was unconscious. I realize now what happened to you last night was…Carlos.”

  “What’s going on? Can one of you please explain it to me? Nanita, you’re talking about centuries here, and myths and folklore. It’s impossible!”

  “Trina, it’s not impossible. It’s no different from what I’ve been claiming your whole life. Everyone, especially members of my own family, thought I was insane, and that your poor great-grandfather loved me too much to have me committed. The truth is both your great-grandfather Jeffrey and I were almost killed by vampires centuries ago. He was given blood so he could continue to serve his master, and I was given Carlos’s blood that I might live.”

  Trina sat on the end of the bed, her shoulders slumped and her jaw slack.

  Carlos reached for the bedpan still in her hand, and Trina jumped. He took it from her slowly, not wanting to upset her any further, and placed it on the nightstand. “I know how bizarre this feels, Trina. It feels pretty much the same way for me. I never imagined Isabel would still be alive. There’s much more to this story than either of us can tell you right now, and Isabel doesn’t have much time left,” he added gently.

  Trina’s eyes flew to her great-grandmother. She got up and went to her side, taking the old woman’s hands in hers. Kneeling down, she rested her head on her great-grandmother’s arm. “Nanita, none of this makes any sense. The doctor said there’s no reason for this. The tests are all normal. I don’t understand.”

  “Mi niña, you have been such a joy to me since Jeffrey died. It’s finally my time, sweetheart, and no test, no doctor, is going to find the answers as to why. I’m just sorry this is how you must learn about your legacy.”

  “My legacy? This is my legacy? That I have vampire blood running through my veins?”

  “No, honey, you don’t have vampire blood in your veins, but because of my connection to Carlos, you carry some of that within you. Myths are based on truths, Trina, but don’t believe everything you’ve heard, because most of it is exaggerated.”

  Isabel unclasped the locket from her neck and handed it to her. “Open it.”

  Trina held the locket in her hand, and looked at Carlos before pressing the release beneath the gold filigree. The locket sprang open, and a small key fell out onto the bed. Isabel picked it up and held it out to Trina. “This key opens the side compartment on the papelera you found in England. I was afraid it had been lost forever, but God works in mysterious ways. I believe you were meant to find it and bring it here, just as I now believe Carlos was meant to find you. Open it, Trina. Inside are all my diaries. Read them and know the truth. Don’t be afraid, mi niña, and never be afraid of Carlos. It is because of him that I’m still here, and that you were born.”

  Trina looked at the tiny portraits inside the locket and had to blink back her tears. The images were so innocent. Two young lovers whose story had played out in ways neither could have imagined. She put the key back inside and snapped the locket closed. “Okay, Nani, I’ll read them. I promise.”

  Isabel breathed a sigh of relief. Her eyes looked from one to the other, and she reached out taking hold of each of their hands. “Take care of each other,” she whispered, bringing their hands together. “I love you both.” And without a sound, her hands fell limp.

  Trina let go of Carlos’s hand. Silent tears ran down her cheeks as they stood on either side of the bed. It was time. All she could do was watch as he leaned down and kissed Isabel’s pale lips, just as he had promised. Her chest rose and fell once more, and all the joys of her life were there for him to taste as her last breath washed through him.

  Chapter Nine

  The sun sank below the horizon, and as the sky blurred to indigo Trina stood at her great-grandmother’s graveside. Clutching a single white rose, she stood stoically, even as she struggled to hold onto the last shreds of her composure. It was twilight, and her only consoling thought was that she had honored her great-grandmother’s dying wish—one of them, anyway. Somehow, she had managed to convince the pastor of the Immaculate Conception Church on 14th Street, to hold her funeral services at sunset, instead of at the Catholic standard of ten a.m.

  The events of the past week seemed surreal, but at least now, she finally understood the old woman’s odd request. Carlos stood graveside as well. He was on the opposite corner from Trina, a poignant reminder of just how surreal her reality had become. She could feel his eyes watching as she struggled to keep it together, but she just didn’t have the strength to meet his gaze.

  As the priest offered his last benediction for Isabel della Cortes Markham, Trina’s heart skipped a beat. He closed his bible and stepped back from the edge of the grave, motioning to her that the ceremony had come to an end.

  With a nod, she stepped forward, leaning on Louie’s arm for support. Her hands shook as she laid the rose at the head of the polished mahogany casket, and her breath caught in her throat with the finality of the symbolic gesture. All at once, it overwhelmed her, and she could feel the weight of Carlos’s gaze grow even more intense as he witnessed her distress.

  Louie’s arm tightened around her waist and Susan stepped up, sliding her arm around Trina’s shoulders. Her whole world had unraveled, and no one but Carlos understood the extent of just how much.

  Initially she had gone numb, dealing with the assisted living facility, the funeral home, and the church as if on autopilot. Carlos had given her space. But even through the haze of her grief she couldn’t stop thoughts of him from lingering on the periphery. Trina knew it was only a matter of time before she had no choice but to face him.

  Susan’s offer to let her to stay this past week was a godsend, giving her the distance she needed to just breathe. Trina had even joked it had more than made up for all the times she had covered for her at the club. But as much as she dreaded it, she knew it was time to go home.

  The line of mourners passed, each placing their flowers on the casket and each one touching her hand as they left. Susan and Louie had gone to wait for her in the car, leaving her alone with her thoughts. She stood there in the encroaching darkness, and a terrible loneliness slowly dragged itself across her heart.

  “Trina?” Carlos’s deep voice called softly from behind.

  “Go away
, Carlos. I can’t deal with all of this and you right now,” she said.

  “Not a chance, querida. For a week now, I’ve left you alone. We need to talk.”

  “You’re right, but not right now. I need to go home. Hell, I haven’t been there since …” Her voice broke and she couldn’t finish. With a ragged breath, she just stared at the raw earth surrounding great-grandmother’s grave.

  “Look at me, Trina,” he said as he gently turned her toward him. He put his fingers under her chin and lifted her face so she had no choice but to meet his eyes. “I’m sorry for the way everything came to light, but you have to believe me, it was never my intention to hurt or deceive you. I had no idea of our connection, and would have eventually revealed what I am to you in time.”

  Trina’s tears were cold on her face and exhaustion gripped her. “I believe you, Carlos, I do. But regardless of that, I don’t see how this can be set to right. I mean, I still can hardly believe you are what you are. That all of this is true. I know you loved my great-grandmother and that she loved you—but it’s over now, all of it.”

  “You don’t mean that. Too much has happened, and it’s happened too fast. You need time to think, to come to grips with it all. Have you had a chance to read Isabel’s diaries?”

  “No, not yet. Like I said, I haven’t been home.”

  “Read them. Just promise me that when you do you’ll call. Whether you believe it or not, we need to work this out. Together.”

  “I promised Nanita I would read her diaries, and I will. Still, I don’t know whether or not my feelings will change after I do—about you or everything else,” she said with an unhappy shrug. Her narrow shoulders slumped a bit, and she suddenly felt tiny under the burden she’d been carrying all week.

  “Just read them, Trina, and maybe after you do you’ll understand.”

  Trina could only nod, and when Carlos bent to kiss her goodbye she didn’t flinch or pull away, but she didn’t respond either—regardless of how her blood sang in her veins when his lips touched hers.