Twice Cursed

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by Marianne Morea


  “Don’t be so hard on yourself. The answer isn’t an obvious one. A vampire’s only natural enemy is another vampire—and yes they are that outside the natural order. But that’s not to say they don’t fear.”

  “And?”

  Sean rubbed his face with his free hand. “And nothing. This is a topic I don’t care to discuss right now. It’s the wrong time and definitely the wrong place. There are entities out there beyond comprehension, even for supernaturals, and they are what vampires fear.”

  Lily blinked, considering all he’d said. Every legend she’d ever heard of ran through her mind. She added up and tossed out likelihoods, running the scope from folklore and mythology to religion, until she looked up, giving each of them a quizzical look. “I think I figured out what you mean. You’re referring to entities from another plane, ones with no explanation as to origin, even beyond mythology.”

  Sean just stared at her, giving nothing away.

  “You mean angels and demons, right?” she asked, looking from one to the other.

  Jack shook his head slowly. “How did you work that out so quickly, or is it a psychic thing?”

  Sean didn’t give her the chance to answer. “Did Terry say something to you about this before she moved on?”

  The question took her by surprise, and her satisfaction at solving the riddle evaporated. “No, of course not. Why would you think that?” Her eyes searched his, trying to get a bead on where he was headed. “The reason Terry was here, had everything to do with helping me get over…well, me. You know that. It had nothing to do with supes and their interrelationships. If she earned angelic brownie points, or was downgraded to demon for breaking some spiritual protocol, I haven’t a clue. You were there, she didn’t exactly say much once she went into the light.”

  Concern flooded her, and she shifted her body to the side, to eye Sean straight on. “Why are you asking this? Are you hoping to intimidate the vampires with the threat of a celestial sword?”

  “Don’t be that way, Lily. It was a legitimate question,” Jack shot back in Sean’s defense. “You’re the only frame of reference we have, when it comes to contact with other planes of existence. It’s not like we can walk and talk with the dead. You’re the one that’s tuned into that channel.”

  “I’m not tuned in! It’s not like I can control it or anything. It just happens.”

  “Okay, enough. This is why I didn’t want to get into this. Yes, vampires are afraid of both angels and demons, for much the same reason. Neither can be controlled, and they are untouchable. It’s been that way since God said, ‘Let there be light.’

  “Angels aren’t exactly the benevolent creatures history paints them to be. They are warlike, hence why they are referred to as legion. It has as much to do with their nature as their number.

  “Demons, on the other hand, are exactly as they are depicted. The only difference between the two, is that angels do aim for the greater good, although they don’t always see things the way we do. Demons love to play ‘let’s make a deal’, but no matter how you slice it, you always end up owing them something, and they love nothing more than to take their pound of flesh. Literally.”

  “And I suppose they don’t care if the flesh is living or dead, right?” Lily asked.

  “Yup.”

  “Great. This evening just keeps getting better and better. Can we go home, yet?” She sighed, slumping against the soft damask of her seat.

  Sean clasped her fingers in his, bringing them to his lips. “Nope.”

  Jack leaned his elbows on the table and crossed both arms “It’s settled then. Since we’re forced to wait, let’s get another round and shake this off. I know you only said one round, Sean, but this one is medicinal.” He snorted. “There isn’t anything we can do at this point to trace the telepathic threat you both felt, and since Terry isn’t likely to swoop down in a blaze of celestial kickass, who cares if harp music leaves the vamps shaking in their shoes? The tables inside seem to be clearing out, so dinner must be coming to a close. At least up here, anyway.”

  “Jack…”

  “You just love saying my name, don’t you Sweetheart?” he asked, sucking the beer soaked lime from his bottle, and holding it between his teeth. “Better keep an eye on this one, Sean. I think she likes me.”

  Laughing quietly, Sean raised one finger to signal for the waitress, then, slid his gaze sideways toward Lily. “What is it you always say, babe?

  A slow smirk slanted across her mouth. “In your dreams, wolfboy.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  ***

  “I think it’s finally show time, people.” Sean’s gaze tracked past Jack’s shoulder to an extremely thin, extremely pale beauty walking across the bar in their direction.

  “About time. I can’t make myself swallow any more of these wood chips,” Jack replied, smacking his lips like he’d just eaten dirt.

  Lily gave him a smile with her lips closed. She was usually the restless one, and though they had only been waiting an hour, Jack was right, however silly his comment. Waiting around like this sucked, especially considering what lay in the balance.

  Her eyes darted past his shoulder as well, and her smile faded. After the maître d’ thing, there was no doubt in her mind which side of the coffin this chick preferred. The woman fast approaching was undeniably a vampire, and from her carriage and demeanor, one of some age and importance.

  Not sure what to expect, Lily uncrossed her legs beneath the table and set both feet on the floor, scooting herself back in her seat, muscles tensed for anything. “Something evil definitely this way comes,” she murmured, catching Jack’s eyes.

  The vampire was sophisticated, to say the least. From the top of her coiffed head to the bottom of her 1940s-style sling back heels, she was an undead version of Jackie Kennedy. In this instance, claiming the ‘Devil wears Prada’ wasn’t too far of a stretch, except this devil was dressed in a vintage Chanel. The pale woman carried herself with grace, but beneath the classic elegance was an underlying current of ‘don’t fuck with me or I’ll eat you.’

  She stopped just a foot short of their table, her eyes assessing them without as much as a blink. “Mr. Leighton?” she inquired, though her mien indicated she knew exactly who was who.

  “Yes, and who might you be?” Sean replied, his answer polite but wary.

  The woman raised a perfectly arched eyebrow, hesitating as if weighing whether or not to answer the question. “Abigail,” she replied with a quick nod, her gaze clearly reassessing Sean’s standing. “I’ve been asked to escort you downstairs.”

  Sean glanced quickly at both Jack and Lily, but the vampire raised a manicured hand before he could say a word. “My apologies.” She smiled sparingly. “What I meant, is you have all been summoned. If you will follow me, the counsel awaits you downstairs.”

  Her voice may have flowed like silk, but Lily’s senses perked up at the tacit trace of resentment hidden beneath her courteous manner. Undoubtedly, she took exception to being told to go fetch.

  Steady but still wary, Sean nodded, and the three of them pushed up from their seats to follow her toward the door. The vampire smelled honey sweet, and her tone as she made small talk was both dulcet and intoxicating.

  Lily hung back, her attentions divided between watching the woman for any sudden moves, and trying to keep up with Jack’s erratic mood swings. The boy’s temperament was still bordering on bipolar, and she made a mental note to talk to Sean about it later.

  In the meantime, she waited, taking in as much as she could, fascinated by how much the vampire’s presence held sway in the bar. Men nearby all but unseated themselves as she walked past. At the door, she excused herself for a moment to speak with the bartender, and every man in the bar gazed after her adoringly. Lily couldn’t shake the feeling the woman’s voice and scent were some sort of siren’s song, a vampiric ploy used to lure her victims in. She glanced at both Sean and Jack to see if either was affected, but thank God, neither was. Maybe her
mastery only worked on humans.

  With a single nod, the bartender went back to his customers, and the woman glided toward the doorway, gesturing for them to follow. Lily half expected the men from the bar to trail after her, like rats following the pied piper, but thankfully they didn’t. The vampire smiled, giving them a glimpse of her small but deadly fangs as she directed them toward a narrow corridor off to the right of the bar’s double doors.

  Their footsteps echoed, despite the dull noise from the restaurant, until they stopped in front of a doorway that looked like a cross between an elevator and the entrance to the bridge on Star Trek’s U.S.S. Enterprise. The woman slid her long tapered fingers into the front pocket of her boutique jacket and pulled out a hotel style keycard. One quick swipe through a concealed electronic eye, and the silver gray door slid apart from its center seam.

  “Victorian Era meets Sci-Fi,” Jack commented under his breath. “Guess someone likes steampunk.”

  The woman’s eyebrows lifted, and the younger wolf blushed. Was he more embarrassed that she’d heard him, or that he knew about steampunk?

  The vampire stepped aside for them to pass. On the other side of the threshold was another reception area, only this one was meat locker cold and resembled a demonic version of the Oval Office.

  Lily’s breath fanned out ahead of her as she walked with the others toward the center of the anteroom. The curved walls were covered in a thin layer of black leather that ran from the ebony hardwood floor to the base of the white domed ceiling. A thick circular area rug offered the only softness to the décor. There were no windows and no doors, and dim recessed lighting gleamed, illuminating the dome, and the streamlined chrome and glass reception desk at the center of the room.

  The vampire extended her arm, indicating they should wait by the mirrored elevator bank recessed into the wall to the right of reception.

  Behind the desk sat a human girl. She couldn’t have been more than twenty years old, and Lily gave her a quiet assessment while the vampire instructed the girl to announce their arrival.

  Still curious about a human stationed at the threshold of the undead inner sanctum, Lily gave her and her secretarial surroundings a gentle probe.

  “Lily…” Sean didn’t even bother with telepathy.

  Lily winced, pulling back immediately. Hot searing pain exploded behind her eyes forcing her to break contact.

  The girl tsked, shaking her head. Her thoughts had been booby trapped against prying minds, and she issued an evil smile as Lily winced again against the fading pain.

  She shot the girl a dirty look, squeezing the inner corners of her eyes between her thumb and forefinger. Lily hadn’t caught much, but what she had seen bordered on unreal, as she tried to reconcile the girl’s ‘pearls around the neck’ prep school appearance with the twisted beyond hope workings she’d touched upon inside her mind.

  Smoothing her braid, she avoided Sean’s ‘I told you so’ stare, and redirected her attention to the wall and its unusual patterning. “I didn’t know they made leather wallpaper,” she said to no one in particular, ignoring Jack’s mental chuckle at her expense.

  The vampire brushed past, bumping Lily’s shoulder as she ran her fingertips across the smooth black. The woman inserted her same keycard into an electronic eye to the side of the elevator’s silver frame. “They don’t,” she answered, barely acknowledging that Lily had spoken. “But we do.”

  Lily jerked her hand back, staring at the woman’s profile as her words and their implication hung in the air between them. We do? She swallowed hard, not wanting to think about where they got their raw materials.

  At that moment, the elevator pinged. “Guests first,” the vampire said, as the doors slid open.

  Sean entered the elevator car first, followed by Lily, then Jack. The vampire stepped in, positioning herself with her back to the others. Sean shot Lily another warning as the doors slid closed, his meaning clear. Loose cannon, strike one.

  “Identification,” an automated voice necessitated over the elevator’s intercom.

  The vampire punched a numbered code into a keyboard panel next to the door.

  “Voice Analysis.”

  The woman fixed her eyes on Lily. “2141767, Abigail Bigly.”

  Waves of hostility poured from the vampire as if her name should mean something. Lily stared back, refusing to blink, even though an unspoken challenge had been dropped at her feet for no apparent reason.

  “Verification completed.”

  The woman broke eye contact, and turned again to face forward.

  Sean raised an eyebrow at her, but Lily shook her head innocently. “Don’t look at me, I have no idea what that one was all about,” she defended across their shared mind path.

  He exhaled quietly. “I knew I should have left you home.”

  The elevator lurched, then started its descent. It only took minutes for them to reach the bottom floor, but the claustrophobic atmosphere made it seem like hours. Either Abigail had a score to settle, or she liked to play head games. Big deal. Hadn’t they anticipated as much from at least one bloodsucker? Lily just needed to keep it cool.

  The elevator doors slid open, and Lily stepped out into the club behind Sean and Jack. Garage grunge and acid punk set the tone for the place, and she glanced around, unfazed by the raw feel that emanated in waves from all sides.

  It was only ten p.m. and the club was empty for the most part, with only a few people scattered around on the vinyl couches surrounding the concrete dance floor and in the corner shadows past the main bar. They were too far away to tell if they were vampires, but after what had zapped her upstairs with Goody-Two-Shoes Gone Bad, she had no intention of going fishing again.

  Abigail pointed for them to follow her toward the VIP section, platformed off to the side and guarded by a rather large, rather intense looking bouncer. A quick flash of fang from him in an over eager smile, and it wasn’t hard to imagine what he’d do with one word from Abigail. She led them up a few quick stairs and past the roped off area toward the back. Underground clubs all over Manhattan were notorious for their backrooms, and most people equated them with gay clubs and fetish bars, but this went beyond anything Lily had ever heard about. This was the true anteroom to the undead inner sanctum, not the sleek leather clad reception area upstairs.

  A crushing feeling hovered over her as they walked through the corridor toward a steel reinforced door at the end. Random doors lined their path on both sides, but heaviness thick with warning actually forced her not to see, not to look. Wards may have blocked the rooms from view, but she didn’t need her eyes to see what went on behind closed doors. The images bombarded her almost of their own volition.

  Her throat tightened and she stumbled, grabbing onto Sean’s arm. His hand gripped her elbow, and he helped her up. She felt the warmth drain from her face, and one look from him told her, he felt it too. These rooms were where vampires did the unspeakable.

  “I trust you can keep up, yes?” Abigail taunted with a sniff. She turned, and a scornful breath escaped her lips at Lily’s strained expression. “Oh, please, where exactly did you think you were headed? These rooms are what they are, and even among my kind they are not for the faint of heart. This one here is a favorite. La Chambre de L’allaitement.”

  Jack gave Sean a confused look. With Abigail’s sophistication and flourish, her posh accent made the words sound mysterious and chic, but after four years of high school French, Lily knew exactly what it meant. The images that hit her when they entered the corridor left no doubt in her mind it was a fetish room for vampires who liked to feed on lactating women. She looked at Sean, who knowingly met her gaze with the same revulsion.

  What in God’s name had they gotten themselves into?

  Abigail’s grin grew to ugly proportions, her fangs elongating like an exclamation point on their debauched lifestyle. “When you live for centuries, it gets harder and harder to find diversions. It happens.” She shrugged, unremorseful. “Some of us grow
bored with modern notions of political correctness and become nostalgic. This room is called La Oubliette.” She looked right at Lily. “Just think of the King Charles VIII and his war on the Borgias and the treatment their enemies endured. You’ll get the idea.”

  Lily swallowed hard. “I don’t need imagination to give me a visual. I get it unsolicited, complete in 4-D high definition. So, if you don’t mind, can we just get to where we’re going? I’m sure the council is waiting on us.”

  She let go of Sean’s arm and straightened, squaring her shoulders, not really caring if that counted as strike two. He didn’t say a word, though. Not verbally or telepathically, just sent her a mental kiss.

  “Thanks for that,” she feathered back.

  “Anytime.”

  “Do you actually know who we’re meeting with, or are we completely winging it?”

  “The master goes by the name Sébastien. I met him years ago, and from what I remember he’s nearly a thousand years old. His right hand man is called Rémy. They were both made by the same sire in France during the middle ages. Hence all the Gallic references.”

  “Great. Two vamp brothers who came from chaos and war. This just keeps getting better and better…”

  ***

  “I bid you ease, Sean Leighton, Alpha of the Brethren,” Sébastien said, rising to greet Sean from his seat near the fireplace. “Though, I sincerely regret the reason for this reunion. If only it was under happier circumstances.” He glided forward across the same ebony hardwood displayed in the upstairs lobby, his hand extended in welcome.

  Lily slid her eyes sideways to Jack, who had visibly blanched at the sight of the master vampire. The man was imposing. Not that he was physically large. In fact, his physique appeared more in line with the men of his time, diminutive as compared with men of the twenty-first century, and downright small compared with both Sean and Jack. His commanding presence and the unmistakable aura of vampiric power and formidable magic made him lethal.

 

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