Bloodspell

by Amalie Howard

  "Victoria, this doesn't change anything. What you did was the right thing. We can't be together. We shouldn't. That kiss was—"

  "Don't even say it," she said. "Don't you understand now? I don't want anyone else! I've been lying to myself all along. Christian, how could I be with anyone else other than you?"

  "You should be with someone like you, young—"

  "Someone like Gabriel? We both saw where that got me."

  "Victoria, this cannot be good for you no matter what you think you know. I am still a danger to you in every possible way. I can't be with you, and you shouldn't be with me. We are from different worlds, and what we were doing was not only reckless, it was wrong." His voice was dead, and if Victoria hadn't seen the agony in his eyes, she would have believed every hateful word that had left his lips. But she knew what he was doing—he was pushing her away.

  "I already fear for my life just because of who I am, you think adding a little inconsequential vampire to the equation will change any of that?" She paused and her eyes went strangely blank as if something had occurred to her. "Or is it that you just don't want me?" she asked in a strangled voice.

  "How could you possibly think that?" he said. "It's not you ..." He reached for her hands, and she pulled back, her face cold but her eyes bright with suppressed tears.

  "That's it, isn't it? It's me. I'm just too young, too stupid, right?" she said. "I could never be as beautiful as that blond vampire woman, could I?"

  In that instant, the obscure memory became clear, the one that had eluded her ever since she had first seen the blond woman—she had seen her when Christian had first let her go into his mind, into his memories. She was someone who had been close to him! More than close. Of course! The hot rush of understanding was like a blow to her stomach. They'd been lovers.

  Christian couldn't help it, he started laughing, a derisive, humorless sound that echoed horribly in the car. "What does Lena have to do with anything?" he said, his confusion genuine.

  "Nothing," Victoria said, jealousy exploding into every part of her. "Except that she's just beautiful and perfect and a vampire ... everything I am not and everything you could possibly want, so perfect for you. What was I then? Some kind of toy?"

  "Victoria ... please ."

  Christian didn't know how to respond to her comment about Lena as it had come from left field and he had no idea what prompted it. He held his hands out toward her and Victoria leaned away, her eyes flashing black fire.

  "You're upset and you're not thinking clearly," he said, as if he were speaking to a skittish horse. Her eyes narrowed.

  "Don't patronize me, Christian. I've never been clearer about anything in my life. But you! You can't even fight for what you want, even when it's right in front of you. Go ahead. Push me away if that makes you feel better about your own choices. Make this about me. And run back to your perfect little vampire existence without some gauche child like me screwing it up."

  "Tori, that's not it at all. I can't give you what you want. Every time we touch, we have to think about how long the moment is going to last. We both hold back because we have to. You don't deserve that. You deserve someone who can love you without reservation, without fear of hurting you, someone within the rules."

  "What do you know about what I want?"

  "You told me, remember?" His eyes were gentle. "In the limousine on New Years Eve?"

  "You know what I meant! It's not this or whatever you've decided is best for me!"

  "You said you wanted more. I can't give you that, Victoria."

  "Did you give it to her?"

  Victoria stared at him, her eyes narrowed to slits as torturous thoughts of the beautiful woman kissing Christian spun wildly through her brain. They had been lovers, something she and Christian might never be!

  "Victoria," he said. "Lena is no one important." Her eyes flared and he knew instinctively that he had said the wrong thing. For a moment, Christian felt real uncertainty as he stared into her black, black eyes. He could smell the sweetness of the blood, the magic amplifying its heady fragrance a hundred fold, and he could sense its wildness simmering just beneath her hard-won but fragile control of it. "I didn't mean—"

  "No one important?" she said. "Is that why she is in so many of your memories? Don't lie to me! What do you want, Christian? Do you know what it is you want?"

  Fight for me, please. Fight for us.

  I can't, it's too dangerous. You could die.

  I won't. We live by our own rules. Say the words, Christian.

  The crossroads loomed. He felt it in her voice, she would let him go, if anything to save her battered pride, but there would be no going back. Pride would offer no second chances.

  "What do you want?" she repeated.

  Christian swallowed, his eyes tormented. He could never let her go.

  "You. It's always been you."

  The moment froze in time as her eyes grasped his, searching for truth in their depths, and Victoria let out the breath she'd unconsciously been holding. She didn't know who took the first step but it didn't matter as she slid into his arms, and then they were holding each other so tightly that neither of them could breathe. It felt like coming home.

  They stood there for an eternity, neither of them noticing the lone figure standing in the darkest shadows across the street, silently watching, his face contorted with rage.

  "ARE YOU SURE I look okay?" Victoria asked. Christian assured her that she did, and they walked down to the waiting limousine. "I can't believe I am going to meet a witch priestess!" she said. "I can't believe I am in Paris!"

  The unexpected trip had arisen after an urgent call from Enhard the night before that the Council was being convened at Lucian's request. After the scene with Gabriel, Christian hadn't wanted to leave Victoria alone in Canville even if it meant risking exposure to Lucian. The last two times he'd left her alone, both times she'd almost been killed at the hands of his brother.

  At least in Paris, he'd be able to protect her and with Enhard's unknowing help, he'd arranged a meeting for Victoria with the Witch Clans. Her presence in Paris would be under the guise of meeting others like herself, and under his protection because of the recent slew of vicious attacks. As a royal and Council advisor, his position was unassailable. It wasn't the most foolproof plan, but it was the best he could do on short notice.

  When they had arrived, she had immediately fallen in love with Christian's apartment on Boulevard Saint-Germain, the evening bustle of the busy street making her as excited as a small child. The two-bedroom apartment was simple and tastefully furnished with old-world charm. It boasted a lovely balcony that overlooked the Seine and the glorious Eiffel Tower luminously draped in golden lights, holding court over her city. Paris was already living up to every expectation she'd ever had and she'd barely been there a day.

  The limousine pulled to a stop at their destination in La Défense. They walked into the ominously beautiful obsidian tower and took the elevator to the very top floor. Victoria was awed by the opulence and the magnificent view.

  The same beautiful receptionist greeted Christian who had met him before and she extended the same lush invitation as she had the last time. Victoria's eyes narrowed and Christian chuckled under his breath at her jealousy.

  "Relax chérie, she's paid to do that."

  "Well, she didn't come on to me, so obviously she's not doing her job properly," Victoria said. Christian laughed.

  The receptionist ushered them into a small room set up for an informal meeting with deep armchairs around a small coffee table. There was a buffet table at the end of the room covered with an assortment of fruit, bread and cheeses.

  Victoria tried to get comfortable as Christian stared at her from beneath a heavy-lidded gaze. He could appreciate why she was nervous, but despite it, she looked lovely, with her thick blue-black hair pulled back off her face and secured in a neat chignon. She had chosen to wear a plain white shirt with a ruffled collar and a black pencil skirt. The overall
look was austere, but somehow made him want to kiss her thoroughly and demolish that tidy, proper hairstyle.

  "Why are you glowering at me like that?"

  "Because that little chignon of yours is driving me crazy," he said honestly, which forced a surprised laugh from her chest. "And Catholic school girls look the same in any era," he added with a grin.

  Victoria laughed again. "Perv. I decided jeans weren't appropriate, so I borrowed this skirt from Charla. Considering she's four inches shorter than I am, I'm surprised it fit."

  "Well, you look beautiful."

  "Merci monsieur, so do you."

  Victoria had been so overwhelmed earlier that she'd hardly noticed Christian's appearance. Clad in an immaculate dark navy suit, he looked like he'd just stepped out of the pages of a business magazine, some kind of young tycoon. She couldn't decide which look she liked better. He looked just as good in jeans and a T-shirt as he did wearing a jacket and tie. Her gaze flicked to his. His silver eyes were still smoldering unsettlingly.

  Victoria shivered in delicious response dragging her eyes away. She was just about to reprimand him for staring at her in such a suggestive manner when the door opened and an attractive dark-haired man walked in.

  He introduced himself as Enhard and embraced Christian warmly. Christian then introduced Victoria. When he said pointedly that her name was Tori, Victoria noticed that Enhard started visibly, his eyes snapping to Christian's who nodded imperceptibly. Enhard smiled with genuine pleasure, engulfing Victoria's hands in his own and telling her that he was honored to meet her. Victoria was taken aback by his effusive greeting but when she looked at Christian, he just smiled.

  What's that about? she asked silently.

  Nothing really, I just told him a little about this wonderful girl I had met.

  She was staring dreamily at his face when she realized that Enhard had asked her a question, a smile on his own face at her diverted expression.

  "Sorry?" she said, turning red. Christian pretended to study his fingernails but she knew that he was laughing inside at her embarrassment. She glared at him.

  "Did you have a pleasant trip?" Enhard asked, his voice mellow like butterscotch. Victoria felt like she was going to melt from the tone of his voice. What was with these vampires and their ability to charm the senses!

  "Yes, it was fine, thank you," she responded with a winsome smile. She felt the gentle brush of his mind on hers that was undoubtedly intended to have been unnoticed, and responded with an answering touch of her own, leaving him in no doubt of what she was. Enhard's eyes widened as he whirled to face Christian.

  "She's ... a witch!" he accused.

  Victoria tensed in response to the almost angry tone of his voice.

  "Yes," Christian agreed, his face implacable.

  The reproach in Enhard's expression was obvious. If she had simply been a human, it would have been acceptable. But Victoria was a witch. Their shared history was far too dark, and centuries of hate meant that no relationship between witches and vampires would be tolerated.

  Victoria could feel the palpable change in the air as Enhard regarded her in stunned silence. She stared back just as fiercely until Enhard looked away, noticing that Christian had moved to stand behind her. She leaned into the length of his body and absorbed the strength he offered. His hand caressed her lower back in slow soothing circles.

  "The meeting will start shortly in the main conference room," Enhard said, the warmth gone from his voice. "The High Priestess is already here." He left the room without a backward glance. Victoria was stung by his frigid manner, but Christian squeezed her hand reassuringly.

  "Don't worry, it's about me, not you," he said, leading her across to the Council room where Enhard was waiting near the doorway.

  "Christian, do you have a minute?" Enhard asked.

  "Not right—"

  "It's okay, Christian. I'll wait for you inside," Victoria said.

  "Christian," Enhard began the minute the door swung shut behind Victoria. "I can't even begin to guess at what the Council will say to this. You are flouting ancient laws and this little flirtation—"

  "It's not a flirtation. And if you think I give a damn about what the Council thinks, then you really don't know me at all," he said.

  Enhard was quick to back down from the veiled fury in Christian's voice, and he sighed. The Council would not tolerate it should they realize Victoria was a witch, and despite Christian's considerable power, he would not be able to save himself. Or her.

  "Does anyone know?" Enhard asked.

  "Lucian does, I imagine."

  Enhard gasped, his eyes flying to Christian's. His face was whiter than Christian had ever seen it.

  "Then today will be even worse than I imagined. You know your brother has long craved your complete exile from your House and coveted your birthright. My fear is that he has called this meeting to discredit you with the Council ... because of her. He will use this to destroy you," Enhard said.

  Christian didn't bat an eye. He had guessed that Lucian had had some sort of ulterior motive but now, everything fell into place like missing pieces of the puzzle. Lucian had known that Christian would not leave Victoria behind, and something he intended to do or say in that room had something to do with her.

  He regretted that Victoria was already inside but there was little he could do at this point to remove her without drawing more attention to them both. He would have to deal with Lucian—and the Council—if Enhard's speculations proved correct.

  Christian met Victoria's eyes reassuringly where she was sitting near the back of the room as he walked in with Enhard. Victoria noticed his eyes narrow as he stared at her, sensing that something was different about her, and it was her turn to smile reassuringly at him.

  It's a non-detection spell. If it works so well for you, then it should work for anyone looking for Le Sang Noir.

  Christian shot her a puzzled look. This space is warded against magic.

  Yes, I can sense the wards. She frowned in concentration. But my spell is fine.

  The meeting was called to order interrupting their silent exchange, and Victoria looked around the room. It was as beautifully decorated and furnished as the other room had been, with spectacular floor to ceiling windows looking out onto the city of La Défense.

  There was a long glossy cherry-wood panel table at the end of the room that curved in a semi-circle, where twenty people were seated, obviously the Council. Enhard sat at the same table. The Council members ran the gamut of age, but they all had two things in common, their fierce mysterious beauty and pale white skin. It was difficult not to stare.

  The rest of the room was divided into two sections, similar to a courtroom set-up with two other rectangular tables at the head of each of the sections. She recognized Lucian at one of the tables talking to a tall woman whose face she could not see, but who seemed vaguely familiar. Victoria remembered their last encounter with unease. As if he had felt her discomfort, he turned toward her, a disturbing, triumphant smile playing on the corner of his lips. His cold stare made her flesh crawl.

  She looked away, distracted by two new attendees who had been ushered in by the helpful receptionist: a petite pretty woman and another older man. They were not vampires, which she could sense immediately and her breathing quickened as she guessed who they were. They were introduced as the delegates from the witch clan, Grande Prêtresse Aliya and Monseigneur Fardon. Aliya had soft blond hair and looked surprisingly young. The older man had a lined face and white hair. They both sat after bowing respectfully toward the Council.

  With their entrance, the tension in the room became almost solid. Despite the fact that they were invited guests, the mutual enmity was, at best, thinly veiled. It was Victoria's first taste of the hostility that Christian and Leto had often spoken about, and it shook her.

  She was surprised to see Christian sitting just to the right of the Council panel on a raised dais with two other empty chairs. Despite how young he looked, he
radiated authority and everyone around him treated him with deference. It disconcerted her a bit because she had never seen Christian in this light. He was the leader of a House after all, she told herself, but still the thought niggled in her head, it wasn't just that he was treated with deference by his own House, he was treated like that by everyone, including the Council members. She tucked the thought away as Enhard, Council speaker, called the meeting to order.

  Christian sat tensely in his chair waiting for the moment when Lucian would make his end-game clear. The minute the meeting began, Lucian's body language changed and he became alert, ready, and predatory. This farce of a grievance was only for show and Christian knew it the instant he saw his twin brother's calculating expression. This had been a pretense to get Christian here along with the representative factions of the witch clans, just as Enhard had feared.

  He glanced at Victoria, realizing even more that her presence may have been Lucian's main focus. Her face was pale but composed, and she'd never looked more beautiful or fragile. He took a breath and nodded to Enhard to commence.

  Lucian stood, his bearing arrogant as he faced the Council. He barely looked at the witch and wizard sitting to his right, his distaste for them evident, even to Victoria. He addressed the Council.

  "My Lords, you have threatened me countless times with your contempt for my actions when I only seek to better our future. Yes, I concede that people have died, but that is the price of power." Lucian's voice echoed into the room and Victoria could see the clenched fingers of the petite witch on the arms of her chair. He turned to address Aliya and Fardon, his voice carelessly insolent. "But let's get to the point. You got what you wanted, your traitor died. By another witch's hand no less."

  Victoria suddenly felt the world tilt at Lucian's words and her gaze locked on Christian. His jaw was clenched, and she could sense that he was furious. Lucian, now performing for a suddenly captive audience, turned to face her, his face twisted with an evil cunning smile.

  "There's your killer right there." And he pointed straight to her.