Twice Cursed
Page 27
Sébastien moved fluidly and seemed to float above the ground. His dark curling hair set off his pale skin, but it wasn’t the stark white Lily expected. It seemed to have a translucent appearance, like a thin sheet of velum or onion skin. Through the veil of her lashes, she compared him with the other vampires, surprised to find as many varying shades of pale translucence as there were human skin tones.
As the man came upon Sean, Lily shivered, her skin crawling with gooseflesh from the cold knowledge that this was the first of many tests this evening would bear. The manner in which the master vampire acknowledged the Alpha of the Brethren would set the tenor for the rest of the undead seated around the room.
Sean stood tall and grasped the man’s proffered hand in an ancient symbol of brotherhood, each clasping the other’s forearm, though Lily knew it was for protocol’s sake alone and not because of any abiding alliance. The inherent promise smacked of equality and fidelity, yet it was a pie crust promise, easily made and easily broken.
The fire crackled in the oak and stone hearth, sending shadows dancing along the walls. The warm light added richness to the heavy furniture and the brocade tapestries that hung in long decorative panels on either side of the fireplace. More of a library than tribunal, the room’s ambiance lent itself to knowledge and contemplation rather than argued pleas and convictions.
Four chairs graced the thick hearth. They were unmistakably seats of power. As Sébastien greeted their guests, the three remaining adjudicators stayed seated, each with a vampire guard standing directly behind them, their eyes alert and unblinking. Abigail took her place behind Sébastien’s empty chair, her long white fingers curved possessively over its tufted top.
None of the vampires were dressed casually, making Lily wonder if this parley was considered a formal occasion. She glanced down at her own attire, questioning her choice to wear her leathers. Glancing across to Jack, the younger wolf shrugged as if he read her thoughts. He was right; there was nothing she could do about it now. The important thing was Sean had dressed appropriately, thank God—as Sébastien was dressed similarly in a dark pinstripe suit, his blood ruby shirt paired with a tie of the same.
Sean met the master vampire’s smile. “Thank you for your gracious invitation, especially considering the short notice. I am gratified you deigned this matter essential enough to oversee personally.” Sean answered, his manner and his speech taking on as formal a tone as the vampire’s.
Lily studied Sean’s body language, sending a mental note to Jack to do the same. If this meeting required old fashioned formalities to be successful, then they’d both better be onboard with it as well.
The skin on the back of her neck prickled. Not in the same way it did in the bar, but more like when someone was watching you. Abigail eyed her, but the vibe wasn’t coming from her. Lily swiveled her head around toward the doorway on the opposite wall from where they stood.
The guard standing at attention next to the exit was staring at her, his eyes narrowed and suspicious.
Abigail followed Lily’s gaze and chuckled quietly, earning a sharp look from Sébastien. “And what is so amusing, Abigail?”
She snapped to attention, immediately dropping her eyes. “Nothing, my liege. It’s just Etienne seems to have honed in on their psychic.”
Lips tight, Sébastien gave her a withering glance. “You’ll have to accept my apologies, Sean. My second in command is yet a fledgling, less than 250 years old. She was one of the original settlers here in the New World. I saved her from starvation by assuaging my own thirst on her lovely neck,” he chuckled. “1767, I believe, isn’t that so, chéri?”
Lily’s gaze jerked toward Abigail, and the look on the woman’s face confirmed what she suspected. They not only identified the vamps by voice, but also by date sired. 2141767. Aww…Abigail was a valentine vamp!
The woman’s eyes narrowed, and another wave of hostility surged in Lily’s direction along with a protracted hiss.
“That’s enough, Abigail. Your behavior is not only beneath your station, it’s tiresome. The alpha’s seer is no threat to any of us. In fact, she is quite the interesting specimen.” Sébastien shifted his regard toward Lily and inhaled, holding his breath for a moment as if sampling a fine wine. “Yes, indeed. I so love a trace of Were blood. It makes for such an irresistible blend. But I digress.”
He returned to his seat, his second-in-command chastised, but still scowling. Arranging himself, he crossed one leg over the other. “Don’t look so thrown my dear. You are all quite safe…for the moment. As to how I gathered my information, did you honestly think a complete dossier on each of you wouldn’t be there at my fingertips? There has never been anything left to chance when it comes to those granted right of entry to Les Sanctuaire. From the minute this meeting was arranged, I have known all there is to know about you, especially. The wolves are of no consequence,” he added with a flourish. “Such instinct-driven beasts.”
Sébastien rested his elbows on the damask arms of his chair. He templed his fingers, studying Lily. “You look as though I’ve said something offensive.” A pregnant pause hung in the air between them. “I assure you, it was not my intention. We are all slaves to our natures; however it has been my long experience with the children of the moon…as we call the Weres…that they lack the finesse granted to the vampire race.” His turned his eyes toward Sean. “Present company excepted, of course,” he added with a smile, inclining his head before returning his attention to Lily. “Nevertheless, on whole the Weres are still very much…human.” The last word left his mouth like it tasted of vinegar.
Lily forced a smile. “I understand.”
“Do you?” This time it was Rémy who spoke.
All eyes moved to the seat half turned toward the fire. The vampire’s face was obscured by the angle and the sloping wings of his Queen Anne chair. He stood, pivoting on his heel as if in slow motion. The urge to cringe reigned hard and fast, but Lily bit the inside of her cheek. The entire side of the vampire’s face was deformed, melted into a cascade of flesh. The glow of the fire did nothing to soften the shock, instead making him appear even more garish.
Lily looked at the floor, focusing on the wide, thick hearth rug across from her feet.
“Look at me, mademoiselle,” he demanded softly.
Lily raised her eyes slowly. He was dressed in black, tight-fitting slacks and a poet’s style shirt with a black on black brocade waistcoat. He had narrow hips and broad shoulders, but it was his shoulder length dark blonde hair that she couldn’t drag her eyes from. It caught the firelight and seemed to glow with shades of gold and copper. He must have been beautiful to behold. At the thought of what he must have endured, her heart clenched, forgetting, for a moment, the man in front of her was a bloodless, heartless killer.
The untouched side of Rémy’s face showed surprise. “My brother is correct. You are a sweet smelling anomaly. It has been many years since I’ve felt the weight of a compassionate gaze,” he said, with an upward wave of his hand. Tell me, what kind of witch are you?”
Lily shook her head, taken aback by the question. “I…I’m not a witch at all,” she blurted out, heat rushing to her cheeks as she realized she sounded like Dorothy from The Wizard of Oz.
“Au contraire, chéri. Every seer possesses a witch’s soul. Your century merely refuses to see what exists right under their noses. Humans fear what they don’t understand, and they abhor what they fear.”
Lily opened her mouth to respond, but Sean held up his hand. “Rémy, Lily is by far one of the most compassionate women I have ever encountered—her fiery temper notwithstanding. She is more warrior than witch, and uses her gifts for strategy and the preservation of life.”
“Ha! I’ve read her mind. She’s been filled with as much hate as anger. And she is a hunter.” Etienne interjected.
Sean nodded, sending Lily’s eyebrows into her hairline. “Sean…”
He glanced at her and then directly at Sébastien. “Etienne is correct,
but his assessment isn’t au fait. The operative words are in the past tense, and Lily is no longer a hunter, at least not at the present. She loves deeply, so therefore her loyalty runs deep. And we’ve all experienced how devastating loss can be, and how it fosters the need for revenge, but Sébastien, as this is all in the past, I move that we get on with the business at hand. If Etienne has truly read Lily’s mind, then he is well aware of what she has witnessed firsthand, both in live attack as well as in the residual emotional impressions left in the victims at the morgue, one of whom is a Were and the reason for this parlay.”
The other vampires nodded, leaving Sébastien to consider Sean’s words, his templed fingers pressed to his quiet lips.
“Etienne?” he questioned, but his eyes never left Lily.
The vampire sighed. “Yes, my liege. It’s true. The vampire we seek is the one responsible for the attacks. She and her progeny are still at large in the city. Our trackers have picked up her scent in central park, just as the witch’s thoughts revealed.”
“Is it as I feared?”
The room grew deathly quiet, even the fire seemed to stop crackling in the grate. Etienne bowed his head. “Yes. It is Améile.”
“I see.”
Etienne shifted his feet, drawing Sébastien’s eye. “Is there more? Tell me.”
Etienne glanced at Lily and then at Jack, his mouth twisted as if what he was about to say tasted foul. Lily felt Sean tense beside her, but knew he wouldn’t move unless they did, and she silently prayed he’d beat them to the punch.
“The witch witnessed Améile’s progeny create another vampire and then leave him to die. He was degenerating and verging on delusional, yet she refused to stake him. Instead, she asked his help, and he allowed her into his mind to garner all that he knew of Améile and the redheaded one. The young one then staked himself in his last moments of reason. He is at peace.”
Sébastien turned toward Lily, fascinated. “You are a double edged sword, my dear. Fire tempered with kindness.” His eyes swept her, then he glanced over to Sean and Jack. “Perhaps we can learn from each other,” he offered, before tilting his head back toward Lily. “Are you certain you wish to go the way of the moon? You would make an extraordinary addition to Les Sanctuaire.”
Lily didn’t know how to respond. Her first instinct was to cringe, but with the way the vampire’s eyes burned she didn’t dare show it. “Thank you for your kind offer, but I am content to stay as I am.”
Sébastien sighed. “Such a pity. We always welcome new blood, no pun intended,” he said, chuckling at his own joke. At a wave of his hand, Abigail pulled on a thick silken cord next to the fireplace.
“I trust you gave the correct instructions to the bartender?” he questioned her over his shoulder.
“Yes, my liege, before we descended.”
“Good. Let’s hope he sent to the correct shadow house. I am a bit peckish and in the mood for AB negative.”
Jack cautioned a look at Lily. The poor guy hadn’t said a word. It was as if he was shell-shocked, or perhaps he finally woke up and cemented that mood-o-meter of his to level calm.
“Please, Sean, do sit down. Take the chair across from my own and make yourself comfortable. I apologize for keeping you standing for so long. Abigail, send for extra chairs for the witch and Sean’s second.
“Please, sir, call me Lily. As I said before, I’m not a witch. I am an ordinary woman with one extraordinary talent.”
Four sets of red eyes turned to her, shocked, and Lily swallowed. “Was that strike three?” She whispered to Sean, and the same four sets turned back to Sébastien, his own eyes shining with amusement.
“No my dear. I find you a ray of sunshine in our dark world. As to being ordinary, I greatly doubt that. In fact, I’ll prove it. You see, we have many who are skilled amongst our undead brothers and sisters. Not only does Etienne read thoughts, but Maggie, my brother Rémy’s second, reads auras. She too was once a witch.” He held up his hand. “My apologies…psychic.” She was in truth a healer and a midwife, and one of the original accused during that unfortunate time in Salem.”
Two male servants entered carrying the requested chairs, placing them each on either side of Sean. Lily slid into one of the comfortable seats, curious about what the vampire had just claimed. “I’m sorry, did you say auras?” she asked.
Sébastien nodded. “Oui, c’est la vérité. Maggie, if you would be so kind as to indulge me.” He gestured toward Lily’s chair.
Maggie stepped around Rémy’s chair, and stood in front of Lily. She held out her hands and closed her eyes. The air around Lily started to vibrate, causing the little stray hairs from her braid to stand on end. A blue light formed between the female vampire’s hands spreading until it encompassed Lily entirely. Squinting, Lily tried to catch Sean’s eyes, but the light was so bright she couldn’t really see. Then as quickly as it began, it was over.
“Well?” Sébastien asked, almost breathless with anticipation.
Lily smoothed her hair down, trying to squelch the feeling of being the center attraction at a freak show. “Talk about experiencing what it’s like to be inside a light bulb!”
The master vampire clapped his hands once in amusement. “And what say you, Maggie?” The woman stood back, turning to face both Rémy and the master. “She is a spirit walker.”
Both vampires blinked, then turned toward each other in unison, all semblance of mirth gone before they turned to stare at Lily.
Neither said a word, but there was a definite exchange, and just as Lily’s senses picked up on Abigail’s tacit resentment, there was a sudden air of fear swirling in the room at whatever Maggie had announced.
Lily looked from Sean to Sébastien. “Excuse me, but what did she mean?”
No one said a word, but Sean palpably relaxed, his body no longer giving off the numbing sensation she sensed whenever he went into tension overdrive.
“Will someone please explain to me what just happened?” she tried again.
Sean glanced at Jack, and then took Lily’s hand in his, turning it over to kiss her palm. “It means the channel Jack accused you of ‘tuning into’ while the two of you were arguing is the real deal. And not only can you pick up on frequency signals, you own the damn radio station.”
“English please, Sean. What the hell does that mean?”
“A spirit walker is someone who is gifted with the ability to call upon entities from other planes. Celestial ones.” He fixed her with a poignant stare.
Lily opened her mouth to protest, but then thought better of it. Either the vamps would kill her now, or they’d think twice and let them walk, not wanting to tempt fate. “I see. I guess I’ve always suspected as much.”
Sébastien cleared his throat. “So you’ve experienced communication with other entities?”
Lily shrugged. “I suppose. I can talk to the dead, and they seem to seek me out. And I’m no stranger to the white light.”
Maggie gasped, immediately dropping her eyes as it earned her a sharp look from Rémy.
Lily knew the claim was a stretch, but she kept the image of Terry and the white light vortex she experienced clear in her mind, just in case Etienne decided to get nosy—and surprise, surprise, she caught the faint nod he sent his master, and the ensuing frown Sébastien wore before he censored himself, and was once again the epitome of charm and hospitality.
He smiled, brandishing his hand in a flippant gesture, dismissing the obvious hole in his intelligence gathering. Although, from the set of his shoulders and straight back, it was clear someone’s head was going to roll. “As I said before, it is truly a shameful state of affairs that brought us together. We have been tracking Améile for weeks now, but, for some reason, she is able to evade us.”
He sighed. “Sadly, I’m still not sure how to proceed once we do find her. She is, after all, my own progeny.”
“With all due respect, Sébastien, she must be destroyed. There is no other way.” Sean interjected.
Lily coughed, not out of fear but to draw the vampire’s eye. “Sir, if you please. I understand that human life is of no consequence to you, and the fate that befell the unfortunate Were we found in the morgue registers only slightly higher in your estimation. But that is not the reason for Sean’s outburst. Nor is it the argument that brings us to you tonight. Améile is rotting from the inside out.”
“I’m aware of this.”
Lily wet her lips, trying to stay calm, but Sean interrupted. “Then surely you must be concerned about how this affects not only you and yours, but everyone. The consequences are far more reaching than you imagine. At the morgue, we could smell the stench. Améile has not only infected her own progeny, but everyone she had fed from, so it’s only a matter of time before this situation becomes rampant.
“We fought something similar at the Were Compound in Maine, and yes we’ve discovered a cure, but it’s DNA based, and since vampire’s no longer have living DNA other than that which is residual in the blood they ingest, it’s unlikely our cure will suffice—that is if it’s even the same virus—but based on the evidence we’ve collected, there is a real possibility it could be linked, and that means the virus is mutating.”
The council’s valet and the bartender entered at that moment, carrying a tray with fluted champagne glasses and a crystal decanter filled with a crimson liquid.
Sébastien exhaled sharply. “This is all too distressing to digest on an empty stomach,” he said, gesturing for the bartender to pour the drinks.
“As requested, it’s still warm,” the bartender crooned, handing one of flutes past Lily to the master’s waiting hand.