Bloodspell

by Amalie Howard

  Christian wondered how long she had been standing there, and whether the pile of ash-covered dark clothing lying on the ground was the remains of her witch friend. He glared at her ruthlessly, his lips drawn in a hard tight line, and turned away. He was gone in a second.

  Christian held Victoria close against him as the limousine sped down I-95 to his house. While she slept, he telephoned Enhard.

  "Enhard, it's Christian. The witch is dead."

  "Did you do it?"

  "No." He didn't elaborate.

  "Good, that will help with your brother." Enhard paused. "Before you go, I spoke to one of the high priestess delegates after you left about Le Sang Noir. They call it the Cruentus Curse. What I learned may surprise you. She told me that its power can only be freely given, which means it can't be taken by force, nor can the witch who controls it be killed for it as the power will die with her. It's passed on to direct descendants and even then, it's sporadic. This thing goes back centuries, Christian, it goes much, much farther than we ever thought."

  Enhard's revelations floored Christian. There was no way Lucian could ever possess its power, Victoria would never ever give it to him freely ... unless he had something planned to force her to do so. The thought scared the hell out of him because he was familiar with Lucian's ruthless tactics. He would have to protect her at all costs. He stroked her cheek and felt her stir beneath his fingers.

  Victoria's eyes opened and Christian's worried face swam into focus. Her body ached and she felt like throwing up. She could feel the memory of the witch's magic infecting her system like a virus. She didn't deserve to be touched. She was a monster, a hideous soul-sucking monster! Christian's arms tightened around her.

  "Kiss me," she whispered, shamelessly taking the small comfort he offered. "Make me forget ... please."

  She pressed her open mouth urgently against his, tasting his hot breath, desperate for anything to offset the dark chill inside of her. Christian's entire body froze, his teeth the only part of him moving, and he ground his lips into a hard line. Victoria dragged hers from his suddenly unyielding ones and trailed them up his jawline to his ear. A muscle in his cheek ticked as she exposed the long delicate column of her neck to him.

  Unable to help himself, he pressed his lips to her neck, drinking in the smell of her as his razor-sharp incisors shredded the inside of his mouth. His lips parted of their own volition and for one agonizing second, the taste of her sweetly forbidden skin invaded his mouth in a hot rush. He'd never wanted to give in to what he was so badly in that moment ... but all it took was one instant of weakness. Christian tore his lips away from the banquet of her warm flesh, tasting his own blood on his tongue and terrifyingly wanting more, a brutal reminder of what he was.

  He held himself perfectly still as she rested her head on his shoulder.

  "Are you all right?" he said hoarsely.

  "No," she said. "My blood takes care of itself."

  "Tell me," he said, stroking the backs of his fingers down her smooth cheek, his touch agonizingly tender.

  "Christian," she said. "I'm ... I'm a monster."

  "You are no monster." He laughed hollowly.

  "But I am. Christian, I killed her. I killed the witch. And I enjoyed it, or the blood did, but it's still me." She spoke in a rush as if she wanted to get it out and looked away.

  "Tori, she attacked you. You defended yourself and she lost. That was it," he said.

  "You don't understand. I took her magic into myself, and even though it was filthy and cloying, I liked it. I liked the feeling of power, and when I killed her, I liked it even more! I loved it. It was so easy ... I reveled in taking ... the taking ..." Victoria gasped, unable to finish. "The blood takes and feeds ... and I am helpless against it."

  Christian was quiet. He knew that she had only defended herself, and she was lucky that her blood had fought back. Lena would have been merciless if she had captured Victoria, and Lucian would have been far, far worse.

  He understood her suffering more than she knew given the finite rules of his own hunger and the way it dominated every instinct. But he also understood her fear—the curse of Le Sang Noir was infinite power at unsustainable cost. Eventually, it would grow to control her if she gave in to it, as it had her ancestor, the duchess.

  "You won't become her, Tori. You're nothing like her, and you're not powerless against the blood," he said after a long spell. "You know that. It doesn't own you. You control it, not the other way around. It's like my thirst—do you think it's easy for me when we're together when I can smell your blood calling to me every time we touch? Of course it's not, I have to fight to suppress it but I would never give in to it, I won't let myself," he said.

  "I know. It's just ... exhausting."

  He watched her, the emotions playing across her face as she considered telling him something else that was obviously bothering her.

  "The witch on the mountain seemed to know who I was, and she mentioned that someone else was interested in me, specifically a 'he.' It's Lucian, isn't it?" she asked.

  "Yes."

  "What are we going to do?"

  "Nothing, for now. He will already know that his attack failed. Leave him to me. I will deal with Lucian." His voice shook with suppressed fury.

  "Christian, there's something else." She paused. "I need my amulet. I forgot it in Canville. I tried to summon it but couldn't. It's ... the key to controlling the blood. I can't find it anywhere." Her face was panicked. "If it has been taken, I don't know what—"

  "I have it." Victoria's elated gaze snapped to his. "I put both in my safe at the house before I went to Paris, I know how much it means to you and I didn't want to leave it lying around. I'll get it for you."

  "I'm so glad! Things got so rushed that I stupidly left it behind. You don't understand how close I came ..." Her voice choked as she recalled what had happened on the mountain when the blood magic had taken over without the amulet's protective power restraining it.

  There was so much that she didn't yet understand about the blood, the magic, and the amulet. The journal only had so many answers. She'd need to look harder to find some of her own before the blood destroyed her.

  Victoria stared out the window at the brightly colored lights flashing by from houses decorated in the spirit of the season. It was Christmas Eve. Wasn't this a time when things were supposed to be happy and joyous? Instead, everything felt like it was closing in, a giant net she couldn't escape. The knot tightened in her stomach. She closed her eyes.

  "I'm scared."

  Christian stared at her drawn face as leaned her head against the window. They both had every reason to be afraid. Lucian was more than close ... too close. Christian had barely made it in time to save her from the witch, with Lena lurking nearby in the woods. He didn't want to think about what would have happened if he'd been a few minutes late.

  In Victoria's vulnerable state, Lena would have been merciless. The next time, neither of them would be so lucky. Now that Victoria had killed the witch, the key to Lucian's grand plan, no doubt he would be furious. And fury drove people to do irrational, unpredictable things. Christian knew more than anyone how ruthless Lucian could be.

  One thing was certain. Lucian would stop at nothing now.

  HOW COULD ONE little ticket ruin everything?

  Gabriel and Angie's unexpected Christmas present had astounded Victoria; a ticket to a New Year's Eve masquerade ball at the Rainbow Room in Rockefeller Center. It was an exclusive event by invitation only, and Victoria had argued that it was far too extravagant, but Gabriel had told her that it was nothing, a combination get well after her snowboarding accident and Christmas present. He had also told her in no uncertain terms that the tickets, courtesy of their parents, were not returnable.

  Victoria had mentioned the ticket to Christian two days ago, and she'd been completely blindsided by his response. The minute she had said that it was going to be a masquerade ball at the Rainbow Room in Rockefeller Center, it was like he h
ad become possessed, telling her in no uncertain terms that he forbade it.

  The minute his patronizing words had left his lips, the room had become fraught with tension. She'd stared at him as if he'd been speaking a foreign language.

  "Is this about Gabriel? Honestly Christian, get over it. Gabriel likes me but he knows that we're just friends, and that's all we are ever going to be. I do have friends other than you, you know, and just because he's asked me to a party in New York doesn't mean you need to go all Tony Soprano on me."

  "It's not about Gabriel," he insisted fiercely. "I don't want you to go there."

  "Then what is it about, Christian? These are my friends. Who do you think you are anyway?" Victoria said hotly.

  "Victoria, I do not want you to go to New York. And that's it."

  "Then stop playing games and tell me why," she shot back.

  "I do not need to explain my reasons to you. It should be enough that I've asked you not to go for your own safety."

  She launched a glare in his direction. "You don't need to explain your reasons to me?" she repeated in a shrill staccato, advancing on him enough that he'd stepped backward. "Let me explain something to you, Christian. You are not in the nineteenth century any more. In this world, guys don't get to order girls about. I don't know where you think you are or who you think you are, but you cannot tell me what I can or can't do. I am going to New York. And that's it."

  He'd stared at her with a pained look as if she'd slapped him, and then said quietly, his voice weary, "Fine, do whatever you like, then."

  Victoria had left his house enraged, announcing that she was going to do exactly that. She hadn't seen him since.

  Now standing in the guest bedroom of Gabriel's parents' opulent Upper East Side Fifth Avenue townhouse, Victoria was still shaken by the memory. Truth was, she knew that she was angrier at Christian for actually letting her leave yesterday without making contact with her, than she was that he had forbidden her to go to the party. After the wonderful few days they had spent together, she missed him.

  A knock on the door interrupted her thoughts, and Angie poked her head in.

  "Hey, Tori, the limo's going to be here in about an hour, okay?"

  "Thanks Angie," Victoria said. "Thanks again for letting me crash here. I was more than happy to stay in a hotel."

  "It's no big deal and you know Gabe, once he makes his mind up, it's a done deal. My parents aren't even here, and they don't care who stays here anyway," she said. She smiled awkwardly. Even though things were much better between them, Angie still wasn't big on small talk.

  Victoria glanced at the large box on the bed and sighed as she removed the gorgeous dress, staring at it in awe. The ball was black tie and she had walked Fifth Avenue for hours trying to find something suitable. Maybe it was the rotten timing of waiting until the last minute, but the only dress options seemed to be either huge swaths of taffeta or pearl-encrusted contraptions. Frustrated, she'd decided to take a break when she received a call from Angie saying she'd had a package delivered to the apartment.

  In complete surprise, she had taken the large box to her room and opened it to find the elegant red silk dress. She didn't recognize the designer but the box said Bergdorf Goodman, an exclusive luxury department store in Midtown. There was a single rose along with a note that said "vraiment désolé" in Christian's elegant script. He was sorry—sorry enough to send her a gorgeous dress to wear to a party he didn't want her going to in the first place.

  Victoria dressed slowly. The lustrous, jewel-toned crimson of the dress was the ideal complement to her olive skin and draped her long slender body perfectly. She felt beautiful wearing it knowing that Christian had selected it for her. The strapless bodice was form-fitting with a ruffled bow-tie trim under the bust before flaring out in folds toward the hem. She had chosen to wear her hair in a simple, smooth chignon with Christian's rose tucked in the fold at the top of the knot. The effect softened the severity of the sleek hairstyle.

  She left her makeup simple, with dark mascara emphasizing her wide green eyes, a dusting of tawny blush on her cheeks, and barely glossed lips. The overall effect was startling. Even her amulet seemed to shine more brilliantly red because of the dress.

  At the very last minute before she left the room, she turned around and slipped the ring Christian had given her for Christmas on her finger. He had surprised her with his own extravagantly heart-wrenching gift; a magnificent vintage swirl ring inset with diamonds that extended to her first knuckle. When he had said it had been his mother's, Victoria had been overwhelmed. Despite her recent vow to never wear it again, deep down she knew that there was no way she wouldn't have worn the ring.

  Angie popped her head in and her eyes went wide. "Wow Tori, you look amazing!"

  "Thanks. So do you."

  Angie was wearing a slinky gold spaghetti strap number. Her dark hair had been blown out, and she looked glamorous. Her matching gold and black sequined mask was daring and racy, the perfect complement to the dress.

  "I don't think I would have recognized you, Angie, if I'd seen you at the party. You look so different."

  "Thanks! Everyone's already here, so shall we?" she said, flushing with embarrassed pleasure and moving toward the door.

  Victoria picked up the reddish gold Venetian mask that had accompanied the dress. It was a lovely half mask with red and gold feathers curling up behind her right temple, and golden chains dangling below them from the back of her ear to her cheekbone.

  Everyone was waiting in the foyer of the apartment when Victoria and Angie went downstairs together. Gabriel looked very rocker-glam in a luxurious velvet blazer with ruffled tuxedo shirt and lean tailored jeans, and his expression was one of frank admiration when he saw Victoria. Charla was stunning in a green Grecian-style gown. She embraced Victoria as if they hadn't seen each other in months, and was effusive in her comments about Victoria's dress.

  There were four other people in the foyer; two seniors from the ski trip, Katie and Mike who were both really nice, and two other young men that Victoria didn't know. Angie introduced them as Taylor and Wyatt, both of whom she and Gabriel had grown up with. Since Angie seemed to pair up with Taylor, Victoria smiled as Wyatt extended his arm with a gallant bow.

  As they headed to the waiting limo, Victoria noticed Gabriel staring at her. His expression was speculative and ... greedy. It made her feel uncomfortable. Wyatt's arm curved around her waist and Gabriel's eyes narrowed, a flash distorting his handsome face, but when he noticed Victoria watching him, he smiled and abruptly went outside.

  Sometimes Victoria felt that Gabriel's moods were too erratic. She had tried to read his mind, but it was like reading the same old book with the same story. What she saw was what she got. Still, she couldn't shake the feeling that he was hiding something.

  The limousine headed down Fifth Avenue toward Rockefeller Center as they popped a bottle of Cristal champagne and started the first of many toasts to the year. The streets of New York were alive with throngs of happy, laughing people, and the limousine crawled along amidst the traffic.

  Victoria had heard a lot about the famous Rainbow Room as well as its unparalleled view, but nothing prepared her for the amazing sight of New York City laid out in all its gold and white light glory with the Empire State Building gracing its skyline. It was magnificent. In the restaurant, she felt like she was in a different world! People were dancing and milling about, dressed in their finery with their faces covered in unique and exquisite masks. Golden cloths and elaborate centerpieces adorned the tables, and the music from the live band filled the room.

  Gabriel waved her over to their table, which was already covered in champagne. They certainly wasted no time, Victoria thought as he handed her a glass, and pulled her over to the other window to show her the view.

  "I like your Phantom of the Opera mask, it's very distinctive. It suits you," she told him.

  "You look spectacular tonight, Tori, I meant to tell you at the apartment but di
dn't get a chance to. That dress is amazing."

  "Thanks, Gabe," she said.

  "Dance with me."

  "Maybe another time," she said pointedly, as Charla came bearing down on them, and proceeded to drag Gabriel out to the dance floor.

  One of the things that Victoria loved was people-watching and tonight was unquestionably the night for it—she had never seen so many beautiful people in her life! Still, as much as she was enjoying herself, Victoria felt like a part of her was missing. She'd secretly hoped that since it was a masquerade, Christian could have attended incognito and been there to toast the New Year with her. Victoria bit her lip, knowing that it was her own fault he wasn't there, but it was too late now. She sighed, her eyes roving the room, desperate to distract herself.

  Suddenly her breath stopped. Her eyes traveled in reverse to the pair of familiar steel gray eyes that stared piercingly at her from across the sea of tables and gyrating bodies. She'd already taken a step toward him before even realizing that she had done so, the pull of him magnetic, and she could no more stop herself as she could still her beating heart. He made no move to come to her, just stood watching her as she made her way toward him. He looked unbelievably handsome in a black suit and dark silver mask that obscured half of his face. But Victoria would have recognized those eyes anywhere.

  Her smile faltered as she got closer and still he seemed unresponsive, except for the unflinching steel gaze focused on her.

  Victoria hesitated, struck by his coldness but she supposed she deserved it after their argument. She hadn't even had the graciousness to thank him for the dress. The next move was definitely hers.

  She took a deep breath as she closed the last few steps to stand in front of him, the strappy gold heels she had worn putting her eyes on level with his chin.

  "I'm really glad you came. And I'm sorry too," she said. She peeked at him through her lashes and he was still staring at her, his expression unreadable. Taking another deep breath, she tilted her face up and pressed a kiss to his lips. At first he was unresponsive, then suddenly his lips softened and he wrapped his hand around her waist, hauling her closer and claiming her lips in a bruising kiss.