Bloodspell

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Bloodspell Page 18

by Amalie Howard


  Christian clasped Enhard's shoulders and brought him close into an embrace kissing him on both cheeks, as was the French custom. He knew that even in the foyer that he would still be closely watched, and it was always critical to keep up appearances and alliances especially with someone as powerful as Enhard. The Council was meticulous in the extreme, and the embrace was as deliberate as were Christian's next words.

  "Meet me at L'Echiquier at the Hilton," Christian murmured, as he embraced Enhard. "My warmest regards to your family," he said in a normal voice. Then he entered the elevator, Enhard watching him until the doors closed.

  CHRISTIAN SAT IN the bar in a comfortable club chair. He had chosen an out of the way corner which offered a clear line of sight. He ordered a glass of cognac from the flirtatious waitress and sipped it waiting for Enhard. Even though the cognac had little effect on him, he enjoyed the taste of it.

  The waitress came by again, her look suggestive and inviting as she asked him if there was anything else she could get for him. It would have been easy enough to consider her explicit invitation with her reddish hair and lush hips, but he politely said that he was fine for just then. She smiled provocatively as she walked past him, and he sighed. It seemed that Paris incited his predatory magnetism.

  In Canville, life was a lot simpler. He was an ordinary student, and he liked it that way. He blended in, and tried very hard to make his dark nature invisible. He was certain that he was the only vampire in Canville, and that was why he'd chosen it—obscurity. When he took blood from humans, he had always made sure that it was well away from the small town. Christian had learned early on that his vampire magnetism was a capricious thing. Sometimes the seduced remembered him long after he had satiated himself and sent them on their way, so he preferred to err on the side of caution.

  Still, the vampire magnetism had its uses ... and benefits. Christian smiled, thinking of Victoria.

  "I hope that smile isn't for me," Enhard said, as he sat down on the vacant club chair opposite Christian. Christian shrugged, embarrassed.

  "I was just thinking of a friend," he said.

  "If she can make you smile like that when she's not around, I shudder to think what you are like when she is around," he said. He settled into the chair and leaned forward expectantly.

  Christian deliberated momentarily, but then for some reason or perhaps because he just wanted to talk to someone about her, he decided to tell Enhard the truth. Well, the partial truth.

  "Her name is Tori. She's beautiful and captivating."

  Christian could see Enhard going through the Rolodex in his head, trying to make a match. He waited until he saw Enhard's brows furrow as he struggled to figure it out.

  "She's human, Enhard," he said. Enhard's eyes widened because that was possibly the last thing he had expected to hear, given the besotted look he had seen on Christian's face.

  "Human?" he echoed dumbly, his expression vacant. Christian wanted to laugh. It wasn't that unheard of! But he knew where Enhard was coming from, the whole royal blood thing, and the fact that any good female vampire would kill to be with a Devereux.

  "Christian, there are tons of girls, good vampire girls from good families who would be perfect for you," he said predictably.

  "Enhard, she's the one. Human or not, it doesn't matter."

  Enhard sat back in his chair at a loss for words. The whole mortal/immortal issue was not a trifling one, and the fact was that Christian had already made one vampire. Their laws were very specific—a vampire could only be made with the approval of the Council, and in most cases, a vampire was only allowed to make one other vampire. Control of numbers was a critical part of their existence.

  "Christian, I am sure you understand my concern. It's not that I haven't had my fair share of female human companions over the years, but those relationships were fleeting, because their lives are fleeting," Enhard said after several minutes. "You know the law."

  "Yes, I do." Christian's face was impassive and Enhard sighed, leaning back in his chair. He knew when to let the matter drop. "So tell me what the real agenda of the Council is," Christian said bluntly. Enhard's face immediately went serious.

  "It's not an agenda, Christian. Lucian's actions have been terrible. I understand what's driving him, but he is risking our way of life for something that may not even exist."

  Christian gave him a sidelong sardonic glance. "I thought you said that Le Sang Noir was for real?"

  "Yes, we believe so. But it still doesn't mean that he can use it for whatever he thinks he can use it for. It's like an urban legend. No one actually knows how it works." Enhard looked at Christian, noticing the suddenly shuttered look in his eyes, and rushed to continue. "Lucian is obsessed with the prophecy, and his pursuit of this obsession is bringing us to the brink of war. You know, Christian, as well as I do, that Lucian is dangerous." He took a long sip of his drink. "The Council wanted to take immediate action against him but many fear him and lack the courage to oppose him."

  "Enhard, you know that I want no part of the House of Devereux. Lucian is the House of Devereux, not me."

  "But you are first-born. It is your birthright, and you are the only one powerful enough to stop him," Enhard said, desperate.

  Christian smiled. "My birthright has always been what I choose it to be." He signaled the waitress to bring him another cognac, and leaned back in his chair. "Tell me more about Le Sang Noir," he said. Enhard stared at him.

  "We are not a hundred percent certain that it is back, but the movement of magic this year alone has been immeasurable. We've always kept an eye on the witch clans and the ebb and flow of magic over the years, just as they've kept a close watch on our numbers. Recently, the magic index has spiked, indicating the possible reemergence of Le Sang Noir. We're still not sure though. All of our information has been spotty at best as to what exactly is its true power," he said. He leaned forward, his voice a whisper.

  "The Council suspects that Lucian has an alliance with a witch or warlock." At Christian's disbelieving look, Enhard continued. "There are magical wards in place that were not here before. Even our Seers are inhibited by them, they are so powerful." Enhard's handsome face was anxious, and after eight hundred odd years, it took a lot to get him worried.

  "Exactly what kind of wards are we talking about?" Christian asked suddenly very alert. He thought back to the strange feeling he'd had when he entered Lucian's house, that odd cloaking feeling. Something started to click into place.

  "Dark magic, Christian, I'm sure of it," Enhard said. Christian had never seen the old vampire look so troubled. "They've grown stronger in the last day."

  "Enhard, if Lucian discovered Le Sang Noir somehow, what would that mean?"

  Enhard hesitated, searching for the right words. "I love Lucian as my own son, as I do you," he said, "but Lucian has become ... corrupt. He does not follow the old code. You know we kill if we have to ..." Enhard stopped to acknowledge Christian's raised eyebrow, and nodded. "It is our way Christian, even if you disagree. But your brother Lucian kills for pleasure, indiscriminately and even more so in search of Le Sang Noir and the power it holds. He is deliberately careless, and it makes the Elders nervous for our security. We have lived through countless centuries, millennia even, in the proverbial shadows." Enhard seemed amused at his choice of words. "Not like we used to, of course, but metaphorically speaking now." He gestured needlessly at the people swirling around them.

  "It's not just the witches, Christian, the humans are beginning to notice. Their scientists and forensic experts have the tools and the technology now, not to mention all the books and films flaunting our secrets! In the beginning, it was easy to get rid of the ones that got too close, but now your brother is making it impossible to do so without drawing more attention from the humans. They take murder very seriously, if you hadn't noticed." Enhard took a sip of his drink and waved away the waitress who hovered far too solicitously for her own good.

  "On top of that, Lucian's disregard fo
r our treaties with the witch clans and his obvious acts of provocation including the murder of a high priestess, have drawn their censure. Any personal alliance with a witch is forbidden. They are calling for retribution in blood, your brother's blood." Enhard put both hands in front of him placatingly, his voice harsh with regret. "I'm sorry to have to be the one—" he said, and stopped when Christian put a hand on his arm.

  "I've known for a long time that Lucian's desires would cost him," he said. "I just didn't realize we could all pay the price. Have they agreed on a course of action?"

  "Yes. If you fail to stop him, the Council will vote on execution."

  "What are their terms?" He knew quite well that Lucian would have little chance if the Council went to a vote as, given their fear of Lucian, the outcome was certain.

  "Surrender of the witch or warlock helping him," said Enhard.

  "And Lucian?"

  "He will be spared at the discretion of the Council. If he pursues any additional act of aggression against the witch clans, or does not abide by the laws of the Council, the vote will proceed."

  A muscle ticked in Christian's jaw. Enhard's face was sharp with pity. The situation had worsened in the last few months and given the state of the Council, Christian had little hope to save Lucian without a miracle. Lucian's desire for power blinded him to everything else, and the deadly lure of Le Sang Noir had poisoned that desire and turned it into manic obsession.

  "Tell the Council that it is a witch they seek, a short, dark-haired, dark-skinned woman. See if it can buy some goodwill," said Christian. Now he knew why those bruises on the woman's arms in Lucian's house had disturbed him—they were cleverly done, fake markings. That, coupled with her authoritative attitude in a roomful of deadly vampires, should have been a giveaway. He was angry with himself for only just figuring it out even though there was probably nothing he could have done differently. Enhard glanced at his watch and Christian stood, putting on his coat. They embraced.

  "Thank you for your candor, my friend. I will see what I can do to salvage this and save my brother from himself."

  Christian got into the limo and instructed the driver to head for Lucian's apartment. He raked his hands through his hair, furious with Lucian for endangering their way of life, their family, and their very existence.

  This witch helping Lucian puzzled him because he couldn't understand what she would have to gain by aligning with a vampire. Even if Lucian were successful in finding Le Sang Noir, her only aim would be to kill him just as his would be to kill her once Lucian had exhausted her aid. Christian's only hope was that their continued alliance along with the magical wards meant that Lucian hadn't discovered Le Sang Noir.

  But just as he finished that thought, he realized he was wrong about the wards. Enhard had said they'd become stronger a day ago ... just in time for Christian's arrival in Paris. They'd been strengthened for him.

  Victoria!

  Christian's first call was to the airport. His pilot would have his plane ready to leave in two hours. The second was to Victoria, voicemail again! Frustrated, he snapped the phone shut. Before the limousine even came to a complete stop, he had jumped out and slammed into Lucian's apartment, palpable rage streaming from every part of his body.

  "Lucian!" he roared as he tore through the apartment like a whirlwind with enraged inhuman speed, ignoring the shocked stares of Lucian's guests.

  Yes, dear brother. Lucian's mental voice dripped with sarcasm. Christian found him in the master bedroom on the fourth level of the townhouse. He was standing in front of the bed holding a naked girl close, his lips rimmed in red and his eyes feral. The bemused girl swooned as Lucian tossed her unceremoniously onto the bed, licking the lips that had pulled back in a sneer upon seeing Christian.

  Snack? he asked. Christian snarled so ferociously that the girl's eyes snapped open from her semi-trance, and she shrank back among the sheets, staring at them like the monsters they were.

  "Out!" Christian barked at the girl as she stared at him with terrified eyes. It would be up to her to make it out of the house alive, which probably wouldn't happen. He gritted his teeth. "Wait outside," he said, his eyes fierce and compelling, and she obeyed. Christian turned his attention back to Lucian who stared at him, a mix of boredom and arrogant defiance playing across his features.

  "The Council will issue an execution edict for you unless you surrender the witch helping you to uncover the prophecy." At Lucian's stunned look, Christian smiled coldly. "Did you think they wouldn't find out? Magic use is carefully monitored. They know you are aligned with a witch. You are violating the terms of the truce, and they want you to stop. Surrender her and you live." Christian's voice brooked no disagreement. Lucian's eyes became manic as he stared at Christian.

  "She is the key," he said. "I will not. I am so close that the Council's empty threats will mean nothing! They will soon be begging for me to spare them!" Lucian's eyes were demented, and Christian felt genuine alarm for his brother's state of mind.

  "Lucian, Le Sang Noir is a legend. It won't make you invincible! Even if it could, your witch would kill you the minute she found it, don't you know that?"

  Lucian's uncontrolled, hollow laughter echoed in the room.

  "Kill me?" he said. "She won't."

  "Why is she helping you?" Christian tried a different tack. Still, all he received in response was more of the same hollow, mocking laughter.

  "Trust me, brother, and you can spare me the misplaced show of brotherly concern, there is no way she would kill me. Come on, ask me why?"

  "Okay, why?"

  "Let's just say, she knows who will lead the new world. In return for her services, she will have whatever she desires," he said, laughing more at Christian's incredulous expression. "You would be surprised at how vicious she is, she's the one who killed the other witches, not me. I think she's a bit mad. Must have been why she was exiled." He smiled cruelly at Christian's shock. "My gain, though. Her services include a unique charm that can identify Le Sang Noir. Like I said, the Council will be on their knees in a matter of days," he said. "I suppose when Le Sang Noir is mine, I can dispose of her if I need to but I have a feeling that she will be quite useful to me in unearthing the weaknesses of the witch clans."

  "Are you insane, Lucian? She is an exile for a reason!" Christian said. It was common knowledge that an exiled witch or wizard meant only one thing—mental illness. Normally they were stripped of the magical powers because they were so volatile, but it sounded like this particular witch had found a way to retain some of her magical abilities. That made her, and Lucian, very dangerous.

  "So?"

  "Where is she?" Christian said, suddenly realizing that on his way in, he had not noticed either the mysterious witch or Lena. Nor did he like his brother's coldly evil smile.

  "Hunting," Lucian taunted with a meaningful smirk, and the air whooshed out of Christian's body.

  "If anything happens to her—"

  "What? I die? Get in line, brother!"

  Christian turned on his heel and stalked out of the room. On his way out, he remembered the frightened girl who remained sitting on a settee in the hallway. He grabbed her by the arm, and her entire body pitched forward like a dead weight. Fresh red streaks stained her skin, and crescent-shaped gouges disfigured her limbs. She was dead. The scavengers had gotten to her.

  Christian noticed a white face staring at him malevolently from a doorway further down the hall, and he snarled. The face disappeared. Untold horrors lurked in every shadow of that house; things that made the most gruesome stories told about vampires seem like fairy tales. He felt a twinge of pity for the girl's wasted life but maybe it was for the best, she would have suffered far worse at Lucian's hands. He couldn't get out of there fast enough.

  In the car, he tried Victoria's phone again and got a busy signal. Either her phone was dead or she still didn't have service. His next phone call was to Enhard to let him know that the witch was an exile. With any luck, the witch clans could
use the information to narrow down possible options and to help to contain the situation.

  The car drove onto the airfield as he stared impatiently out the window, knowing he could run faster and almost deciding to do it, when his phone rang. The number came up as private.

  "Yes?" His voice was terse.

  "Christian? It's me ..." He collapsed back into the seat, his relief palpable. "Look I'm really sorry if you tried to call, I don't have any service here. I'm calling from a landline at the lodge with a calling card."

  "I did try to call, several times," he said hoarsely.

  "I was really worried that something had happened with Lucian when I didn't hear from you, not even a message," she said. "Is everything okay? What happened with the Council?"

  "I'm sorry I didn't leave a message. Everything is okay, I'll explain later. I'm leaving, on my way back."

  "Home?"

  "Yes." He didn't want to scare her but he needed to make sure that she was alert and wary of possible danger. "Listen, Tori, there's been a complication. Remember the woman who attacked you in Canville? Well, she may be back. You need to be careful, stay with people at all times until I get to you. I will come for you, okay?" His voice was urgent, compelling. He needed her to listen to him at all costs. He knew that the likelihood of Lena attacking in public was low, but he also knew how far Lucian would go to get what he wanted.

  "Does this have anything to do with the barrier around you and the reason we can't communicate?" Victoria asked.

  "Yes, it does," he said. "Promise me you'll stay with your friends!"

  "I will."

  "We're taking off now. I'll see you soon. Be safe, Tori."

  "Bye, Christian."

  VICTORIA WALKED BACK to the condo, relieved. Her phone had had no service and had been completely unusable. She couldn't believe how good she felt after hearing Christian's voice. Being so shut off from him for the last few days had been torture. She had tried to communicate with him mentally and all she'd sensed was a strange wall between them, a sort of impenetrable but flexible barrier, which meant magic. It worried her, and for good reason now that she'd spoken to Christian.

 

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