“Pretty cool, huh, Trina?” Julian said with an impertinent wink.
Miguel just shook his head at the Brit vampire. “You never learn, do you?”
“What? What did I say?”
“Enough,” Carlos said, his face grim.
“Well, where are they?” Trina asked, resentment filling her voice. This was not going well. Carlos had lied, or at the very least bent the truth. He may have explained things, but he was guilty of omitting the most important facts.
“Niños, vengan aquí!” Carlos called out into the great room.
One by one, the bedroom doors opened. Teenagers, girls and boys alike, filed into the room and a few actually sighed. But they broke into eager smiles when they saw the vampires and immediately began to pair up. Carlos raised a finger, stopping them.
Trina was speechless as she looked at their faces. They were all so young. Most were thin and pale, but she had to admit none of them had that desperate, haunted look she’d seen on the faces of the runaways in Penn Station and around Times Square. For the most part, they seemed healthy; except for the few, whose bodies still held the scars from what she could only assume was their time on the streets.
Somehow, she instinctively knew none of these kids had been harmed since Carlos had taken them in. Well, not outwardly anyway. In her heart, she knew they were probably all better off here, than where they had come from, but consensual or not, this was tantamount to blood slavery. Or at the very least, indentured servitude.
Trina gave Carlos a pointed look before she turned to the kids. “I just have one thing I’d like to know, if you wouldn’t mind. Do any of you ever want to leave here, maybe go back home?”
They all looked at Trina like she was crazy. “Why would we want to do that?” one of the girls asked, her expression as baffled as the others.
Trina was speechless for a moment. She didn’t know what to think or how to feel. Her mind had run with possibilities for weeks about how tonight would play out, but this scenario was one she hadn’t envisioned. She looked at Carlos, not knowing what to say. “I think you’d better take me home now. I have a lot to think about,” she said quietly before walking past him and the others and up the stairs to wait for him by the front door.
***
Trina closed her front door and slumped against the doorjamb. She had just told Carlos she needed to be alone. Again. The words tasted like bitter bile on her tongue, as if they had become the pattern of their relationship, and it broke her heart. Once again, she had too much to digest, and there was no way she could think straight when he was around.
She snapped on the lights and walked past the parlor and up the stairs to her bedroom. The house seemed empty, mirroring how she felt inside. Was this to be her fate? Always back in the same lonely place in her life, again and again?
Everything had been going so well. She had in fact, liked all the members of his family, and was sure they had liked her as well, even moody, brooding Eric. She truly wanted to help him, and looked forward to getting to know them all, especially Julian. The memory of how he had gotten such a rise out of Carlos, and how the camaraderie between the two of them had been almost infectious, broke her heart. This was just a mess.
She went into the bathroom to wash her face and brush her teeth. She slipped on pajamas but couldn’t bring herself to go to bed. It just seemed too big, too empty with just her in it.
Trina walked back downstairs into the parlor and turned on the TV. She sat and blindly channel surfed, not really paying attention. This wasn’t helping much. She had to face her situation and decide what she wanted to do. Julian was right; she had no right to tell Carlos how to live his life. She wasn’t a vampire and hadn’t a clue as to what the protocols were to their…what was it, anyway? Lifestyle? Culture? Whatever it was, she didn’t have a clue as to what was considered acceptable or not.
She went into the kitchen and poured herself a glass of wine. Grabbing a bag of chips, she headed back into the parlor and turned off the TV, turning on some music instead. The words to Beyonce’s Sweet Dreams poured out of her IPod like a slap to the face. Sweet dream or beautiful nightmare? I don’t know myself anymore, she thought miserably.
For the past three weeks, she wore a secret smile every time they played that song at the club. It was to the point that Susan had started referring to it as Carlos’s song. Now it seemed more a melancholy lament.
Trina knew she could accept almost everything about Carlos personally; she’d even taken the fact of him being a three-hundred-year-old vampire in stride. The fact that she found that just a little exotic and intoxicating was a plus.
His family wasn’t an issue either. It was their basement harem she just couldn’t reconcile, no matter how much she wrestled with the idea. Even the fact that most of those kids were better off with Carlos than in their own families wasn’t a good enough reason to condone it. Bringing each one of those kids into his home may have started out as well intentioned, but it was clear—at least to her—that the benefits the vampires gained from having them there on a permanent basis had far outweighed any initial benefit to those kids.
It was too inequitable, and she knew Carlos knew it as well. Those kids could be so much more with the right kind of help from him and the other family members. If only she could make them see that. Trina knew she couldn’t accept things the way they were, and she was going to have to tell Carlos.
Chapter Twelve
It had been almost a week since Trina had been to the house and Carlos hadn’t heard from her. He resisted the urge to pick up the phone and call out of respect for her wishes, but it was killing him. Every instinct told him to claim what was his, but what was left of his humanity prevented him from doing just that.
Every member of his family had been tiptoeing around all week. Approach with caution had become the unspoken mantra of the house as Carlos stalked around, scowling, and snapping his teeth at the slightest thing.
The nourishment he took was minimal and came from bagged blood he had gotten from a local blood bank. The idea of any kind of intimacy, even for the sake of sustenance, was unthinkable to him at this point.
He sat in the great room listening to music with Julian when Melissa, one of Julian’s favorite pets, came in. She casually draped herself across Julian’s lap. Carlos shot Julian a warning look, then leaned his head back, barely acknowledging the two.
The unspoken tension in the room ratcheted up a couple of notches, and Melissa went to get up and leave, but Julian pulled her back down. “Don’t worry, Mel, Carlos doesn’t mind if you stay. Do you, bro?”
Carlos just grunted in response. He knew exactly what his brother was up to.
Julian smiled at Melissa and kissed her as he moved her hair away from her neck. She sighed when he drew from the vein that throbbed directly under her pulse as they cuddled together on the couch.
Melissa’s face was languorous, her eyes half closed in an obvious state of semi-arousal. Carlos tried to ignore them and the strong scent from Melissa’s pheromones. He opened his eyes to say something just as Melissa slid her hand down Julian’s chest and massaged the bulge in his jeans.
That was bad enough, but when she undid the top button of Julian’s fly, Carlos lost it. “Goddamn it, Julian! Get out! That’s what you have a bedroom for! Either take it there or take it elsewhere…now!”
Julian sealed the small wound on Melissa’s neck and stood up with her. He threw her over his shoulder, and above the sound of her giggles, politely told Carlos to go to hell.
“I’m halfway there already, my friend,” Carlos whispered under his breath.
His cell phone rang, and just as he was about to let it go to voice mail he saw Trina’s name come up on the caller ID. He flipped open the phone and closed his eyes.
“Buenas noches, mi vida,” he said. “I’m glad you called. I’ve missed you.”
“I’ve missed you too, Carlos, more than you know.”
His silent heart jerked at the flash of h
ope in her words. “Trina, I’m sure we can work this out. It’s understandable how you feel but I’m sure, given time, you’ll see this arrangement benefits all involved.”
“I’m sure you believe that. Unfortunately, I don’t.”
His gut clenched. “Trina…”
“No, please, this is hard enough for me as it is. The bottom line is I cannot reconcile myself to the fact that you keep those kids for the reasons that you do. I understand the logistics of it, of how it benefits you and your family. I can even see how it has benefited the kids. But regardless of how you dress it up or how pampered and well treated they are, the reality is they’re nothing more than your blood slaves.”
“That isn’t fair. Every one of them can leave if they choose. They are here of their own free will.”
“Really? What have you left them fit for? They have no education, no idea of how to function in the real world, no concept of how to take care of themselves or how to make a success out of their lives. You’ve made them helpless, however well-intentioned you were when you brought them into your home.”
“What would you have me do, then?”
“Let them go.”
“I can’t do that. The decision affects more than just me.”
“I’m sure your family members are resourceful enough to be able to find alternative means of…sustenance.” The word left a bad taste in her mouth.
“Trina be reasonable, this is who we are. This is our life, our way.”
“Then it’s not a life for me. I’m sorry. I love you more than you know, but I can’t be with you if this is your choice.”
“Trina…”
“I’ll love you, Carlos, always,” she whispered, crying as she hung up.
“Trina!” he yelled into the phone, but the line was dead.
Carlos threw his cell phone against the wall smashing it. Throwing his head back, he roared in such anger and pain that the windows shattered. There was no question, everyone in the house cringed at the sound. A collective gasp clamored in his ears, and it rang with disbelief and worry. Never before had they heard such anguish from him, and he didn’t have to guess what they thought. This was bad. Very bad.
He stormed out. The screech from his tires carried for miles as he peeled down drive, but everyone in the house waited for the proverbial dust to settle before they came to access the damage.
“Jeez, do you believe this?” Julian said, staring at the mess, splintered glass and wood all over the floor and on the bushes outside the windows.
“I didn’t even know we were capable of that kind of power. I mean, I know we’re strong and all…but this…it’s kind of creepy, man, if you know what I mean.” Miguel said as he looked at the glass strewn across the floor.
“You think?” Julian smirked. “I think we’d better tape up what’s left of this now, ’cause it’s getting close to dawn. We can leave the rest for Marta and Pietr tomorrow.”
Marta and Pietr were the human caretakers who looked after the house during the day. They knew the people living here were different, and it wasn’t unusual to see them cross themselves each time they came and left the premises. Rosa outranked them, and when push came to shove, Carlos left it to her to deal with the help. However, unlike Rosa, they had no clue as to what the residents were, and the family wanted to keep it that way. But Marta and Pietr were astute enough to keep any suspicions they might have to themselves, and in return, Carlos made sure they were well compensated.
“Can you just imagine what they’ll think when they see this?” Miguel laughed. “They think we’re freaky enough as it is.”
“You got that right,” Julian said, tossing Miguel the roll of tape. “I’ll tell Melissa to let Pietr know first thing in the morning that he needs to have the windows fixed ASAP. I don’t know about you, but after this display I don’t want anything else to set Carlos off, at least not until he can get a grip on all this.”
“Amen to that, brother,” Miguel agreed.
***
Carlos needed the wind; needed to feel it whip across his face, sear his skin. He was a mess—a churning cauldron of feelings so alien to him that his first instinct was to escape. Without a thought to where he would go, he jumped on his bike and took off. Speed. He needed speed and wind.
At the end of the drive, the gates were already open. “Julian,” he muttered, and without missing a beat, he revved the bike’s throttle, raised his arm in silent salute to his brother’s quick thinking, and tore onto the street.
The little town of Verplanck was a ghost town at this time of night. Carlos blurred through the quiet streets until he wound his way around to the highway. He drove south toward Manhattan, his thoughts racing faster than his Harley Davidson.
As he drove, Carlos’s mind replayed the things Trina had said. Her voice had sounded ragged, as if she had been crying. Her sadness was evident even through the phone. If she was as miserable as he was, then why was she doing this? He didn’t understand. In his world, he had already changed enough. What more did she want?
He raced through the tolls without stopping. The alarms blared behind him as he passed, but he dared anyone to try to stop him. He flew down the Westside highway and into the city. The streets here looked desolate, empty except for a few streetwalkers looking to turn one last trick and a couple of drunks looking to score. Carlos didn’t give them a second glance as he sped across 57th Street.
He turned onto Broadway and headed toward Midtown and Times Square. There would be people there, and for a moment he considered stopping, but decided he really just wanted to be alone. Winding his way around past the New York Public Library and over to the East Side, he stopped at the light at 33rd and 3rd and revved the bike’s throttle. It had to be close to three a.m. at this point, and dawn was a few hours or so away. With a wry smile he turned south and headed toward the Brooklyn Bridge and the Long Island Expressway. He still wanted the wind, but he wanted the sun as well.
Carlos found himself at the end of the Expressway in no time at all. He had been driving completely alone for what seemed like hours, with nothing but the flat expanse of the road ahead of him and the trees whizzing past on either side. Finally, he turned onto the only road that remained, and headed toward the Eastern Long Island beaches.
Sprinkled between the sprawling estates were family farms, wineries, and quaint little cottages. As the sky began to lighten, Carlos pulled into one of the more secluded beachside motels.
The motel was actually a series of tiered rooms, each with a perfect view of the ocean. Carlos parked and got off his bike. Stretching, he took a deep breath and held it for a moment. Sea air. There was nothing else like it. His estate in Verplanck had a small cove beach and a dock on the Hudson River, but it wasn’t the same.
Taking another breath he spotted the little check-in hut at the end of the path. It was at the base of the stairs that led up to the rooms. He walked toward it and rang the bell.
“Good morning,” the night clerk said with an affable chuckle. “Either you’re very early, young fella, or you’re very late!”
A kindly old gentleman with a large white beard and an easy smile, he had a sailor’s skullcap pulled over his shaggy head, and Carlos had to stifle a chuckle. All that was missing was a pipe, and he’d be the perfect picture of a salty seadog.
“No, just couldn’t drive anymore tonight. Would you happen to have a room available?” Carlos asked, having already seen the vacancy sign out front.
“Sure do,” he answered, “but during the season we only rent for three consecutive nights or more. Sorry…this time of year it’s that way all over the island.”
The old guy shrugged apologetically, and Carlos smiled. “That won’t be a problem,” he said, signing the register.
The guy handed Carlos the key and as he walked toward the door called after him. “If you need anything, my name’s Hank.” Carlos nodded his thanks and headed out into the pre-dawn air.
The sky was beautiful. It held an aura about it, a
glow that undeniably heralds the imminent arrival of the sun. Carlos headed down to the beach to watch. He sat on the edge of a moss-covered stump at the end of the planked walkway, and listened to the sound of the waves as a light ocean breeze tickled his hair.
The sky turned a beautiful array of pink and orange as he sat and watched the dawn crest the edge of the horizon. The view as it swelled over the ocean was magnificent. Carlos never tired of watching the sunrise, especially after centuries of having to hide from it.
As the light began to spread its warmth across the sand, he chuckled to himself. Age certainly has its privileges. Reaching out, he let the first rays of the morning touch the tips of his fingers. He smiled as he watched the light play on his skin and laughed recalling the first time he realized it would no longer kill him. It had happened quite by accident. Expecting flames or at the very least searing pain, he remembered being stunned when all he felt was a strong heat, like sitting too close to a fire.
The years since had made him almost impervious to the early morning rays, so he sat without fear watching Earth awaken. He watched as surf fisherman set their poles in the sand and early-morning joggers ran along the beach. He laughed at the beachcombers with their funny headphones and cumbersome metal detectors.
By now the sun had fully cleared the horizon, turning the sky from pink to blue and the ocean from black to navy. It climbed steadily on its course across the sky and Carlos knew it would become deadly for him soon. He got up and turned to walk back toward the motel, glancing over his shoulder for a last look at the ocean.
The Cursed by Blood Saga Page 66
