Blood Ties Book One: The Turning

by Jennifer Armintrout

  “Well, it’s a really good copy.” I reached out to touch the surface of the painting, and he caught my wrist with an apologetic smile.

  “Please, don’t touch. A number of years ago, I had a pet of exceptional talent. He’s also responsible for the bacchanalian orgy depicted on the walls of my bedroom.” His thumb stroked the nearly translucent flesh beneath the cuff of my sleeve, sending a shiver up my arm. “Perhaps you’d like to see that next?”

  I jerked my arm away. “Let’s not press our luck, now.”

  He chuckled and slipped his arm through mine. “This way.”

  At the end of the hallway were large double doors. They opened to the ballroom I’d seen on my first visit, though we entered on a different side. The room had been converted into a makeshift garage, with rows of motorcycles parked on sheets of canvas laid out to protect the floor. Cyrus viewed the objects with some distaste. “I’ll never understand the compulsion some people have to drive themselves anywhere.”

  “Had chauffeurs all your life, huh?” I asked, running my hand across the chrome tank of a motorcycle.

  “Not quite. I was born six hundred years before the advent of the modern automobile.”

  “Six hundred—” I swallowed noisily. “So you were alive during the age of knights and armor and all that crap?”

  “Yes, Carrie, all that crap.” I thought I saw him roll his eyes, but he didn’t make any further comment. Instead, he led me quickly through the room.

  The dining room had been rearranged to accommodate a larger number of people and reminded me of a great hall from a medieval movie. I followed him to the kitchen where the huge, industrial stoves were cold. Pots and pans hung gleaming from the ceiling. The only person present in the room was the elderly black butler, who watched us intently as we entered.

  “How can you afford all this?” I asked as we passed through the room.

  “Good evening, Clarence,” Cyrus tossed off casually, as though he didn’t notice the man’s apparent animosity. Cyrus turned to me and replied, “I’ve killed some very wealthy people in my time, and invested the profit wisely. Your room will be in the family quarters, of course,” Cyrus explained as we climbed the back staircase, “but we’ll go through the servants’ area first so you’ll know where everything is.”

  The servants’ quarters were made up of two narrow hallways that were crammed with small rooms. A few of the Fangs roamed the hall. I heard the buzz of a tattoo needle from somewhere.

  “They’re leaving for Canada in a couple of weeks,” Cyrus whispered, a tight smile pasted on for the benefit of his guests. He spoke through clenched teeth. “I can’t say I’ll be sorry to see them go.”

  “Why do you let them stay here, then?” I asked as we strode past a few of them.

  He shrugged. “They’re anti-Movement. I’m anti-Movement. We have to stick together. When the Movement falls, and it will, I’d like to be poised for a leadership position. It helps to grease the wheels now.”

  The second hallway was guarded by sentries armed with wooden stakes. I thought we’d breeze past them as we had all the household staff so far, but Cyrus stopped. “Gentlemen, this is Dr. Ames. I’m granting her full privilege to the cattle, any time she wishes. Please pass the word along.”

  “Yes, sir,” the guards said in unison as they stepped aside to admit us.

  “Cattle?” I didn’t like the sound of that.

  “Pets, if you prefer. They’re humans that live here so I, and my guests, can feed.”

  Most of the rooms we walked by had their doors closed. The few rooms with opened doors were unoccupied, with two small beds in each with a nightstand between them. Dark squares stood out on the faded wallpaper, as though posters or other decorations had hung there and were only recently taken down.

  A door opened, and a skinny, pale girl with dark rings beneath her eyes exited. She smiled nervously at Cyrus, and kept glancing at me as she spoke. “Hello, Master.”

  “Good evening. Amy, is it?” He reached for her, taking her chin in his hand to tilt her head to the side. Faded fang marks stood out against the thin skin.

  “Cami.” Her voice was barely audible as his fingers curled around the back of her thin neck.

  “Oh, yes. Cami. I’m sorry. So many names to remember lately,” he said, more to me than to her. “Cami, dear, how long has it been since I’ve sent for you?”

  “A week.” She looked down at her hands. “Was I…was I bad at it?”

  I wanted to shrink into the wall, to become completely invisible and spare her the embarrassment of this conversation, but she didn’t seem to care that I was there at all.

  “No, no. I’ve just been terribly busy with…other things.” As he spoke, Cyrus discreetly laced his fingers with mine, pulling me into his memory.

  My vision clouded, and I stared down into Cami’s terrified face from Cyrus’s eyes. She struggled not to cry as he moved inside her. My stomach turned at the feeling of her young limbs and barely matured body beneath his. I pulled my hand away.

  Suddenly out of Cyrus’s thoughts, I returned to the present and saw Cami’s face show the tentative beginning of a hopeful smile. “Today?”

  “That is, unless you’d feel slighted?” Cyrus asked me with a rueful grin. His voice invaded my head. If you refuse me, I’ll take her to my bed in the morning and she won’t live to the next sunset.

  The girl looked at me with something akin to jealousy and despair. I had no doubt Cyrus would make good on his threat. I leaned close to his side. I managed, “It’s my first night here. Wouldn’t you rather spend it with me?” Concentrating as hard as I could, I silently added, You dick.

  A low laugh rumbled from his throat, and he spread his hands in a gesture of helplessness. “I’m sorry, Cami, the doctor has spoken. Perhaps you’ll find company with one of my guests?”

  She paled further, her eyes filling with tears. “Will they hurt me?”

  “Of course not. I wouldn’t allow it.” He patted her on the head. “Run along now, I have to show Dr. Ames the rest of the mansion.”

  We exited the hallway and entered a small sitting room. I glanced at the railing to one side and realized we were directly above the foyer. I heard the good-natured shouting of the Fangs below.

  “You pervert,” I said as soon as the door closed behind us. “She’s only a little girl.”

  “She’s fifteen. Just a year younger than my first wife.”

  “This isn’t the Dark Ages anymore,” I seethed. “There are rules.”

  “I find there is something beautiful in the forbidden.”

  “Beautiful?” I thought of the memory Cyrus had shown me, the way her knuckles had turned white as she’d gripped the bedsheets. “What about her parents? Her family? They’re out there somewhere, looking for her, and you’re planning to kill her?”

  “She’s a runaway, Carrie. Nearly all of my pets are. Now, if they don’t suit you, I wouldn’t miss a few of my guards as long as you’re discreet about it.”

  “I’m not going to kill for blood. I want a willing donor.”

  “The cattle are willing,” he said, pointing in the direction we’d just come from.

  “Willing to die?”

  He nodded. “Willing to endure a little bit of discomfort for what I give them. I kill them eventually, but for a few days, maybe even weeks, they feel like they belong. Like someone wants them. Surely you know how precious that can be.”

  I did. As a child, I’d worked hard to be the best, the smartest, the most accomplished in the hopes my parents would take notice. I’d savored every word of their praise like ambrosia. I knew what poor Cami had been looking for. She’d prostituted herself for love, or at least, a shadow of it. She would never know the difference.

  I was infinitely thankful that no one like Cyrus had come along when I was fifteen. I would have been easy prey. I still was. I felt a gentle probing at the edges of my thoughts and pushed away the taloned hand that rested on my arm. “Stop it.”


  We began to walk again, toward a heavily guarded wing I assumed contained his room, and mine. I stopped and waited until he realized I didn’t follow.

  “I’m not going to sleep with you. I only agreed to spend the day with you so you wouldn’t kill her.”

  “I know. And I won’t. Today. Let me show you to your room.”

  The hallway was considerably wider than those in the servants’ wing, though only two rooms appeared to open onto it. At the end, another set of bodyguards were stationed at double doors, but we stood at the only other entrance.

  “Here we are,” Cyrus said, leaning closer to me than was necessary to turn the knob. Ducking past him with a minimum of contact, I entered the room.

  The suite was larger than the whole of Nathan’s apartment. The first room was a parlor full of Edwardian furniture. A fire burned cheerfully in the oversize fireplace.

  “If you don’t like the decor, it can be changed.” Cyrus walked slowly around the room. “Dahlia’s tastes mirror my own somewhat, though I’ve never been able to stomach so much light blue.”

  I had a ridiculous urge to thank him, but I pushed it aside. “This was Dahlia’s room?”

  He lifted what looked like a Fabergé music box from a plant stand by the window, frowning. “Yes. For a while, anyway.”

  I dropped my bag and removed my coat, draping it over the back of the settee. “Why’d you kick her out?”

  “Truthfully? I didn’t like having her so close. The jealous witch monitored all my activities. It was a bit like being married again.” He wound the mechanism of the box and an unrecognizable tune began to play. “Let me show you something.”

  He walked to the small corner hutch and slightly pulled on one of the shelves. The whole thing swung forward with ease. “This leads to my chambers.”

  I stared at the door as if it were ignited dynamite. “Any way we can wall that up?”

  “I prefer to have unhindered access to you.” He closed the secret passage. “But I’m sure you understand why I’d want to keep Dahlia elsewhere. Under heavy guard.”

  If I were him, I’d want to keep her in a different country. “She thinks you’re going to turn her.”

  “Her power is beyond any I’ve ever seen.” He paused thoughtfully. “But I fear how she’d wield that power with a vampire’s strength behind it.”

  I sniffed derisively. “Because you’re so moral.”

  “Because I’m a realist.”

  “Couldn’t you just control her with the blood tie?” I folded my arms across my chest. “I mean, since you’re so good at it.”

  “You’re perfect.” A wry smile formed on his lips. “Alas, she has more power than I. And I won’t chance her ruling me.”

  “Well, I’m glad to know you’re not a completely remorseless psychopath.”

  Cyrus sighed with theatrical weariness. “What you perceive as evil is only an acceptance of our true nature. I only do what I am built to do. That doesn’t mean I’d want some complete nutcase steering the world toward doom.”

  “Could she do that?”

  “Probably. That’s the thought that keeps me awake during the day.” With a look of feral hunger, he crossed to me. “But now it seems I have a better reason for my sleepless days.”

  He raised his hand and I trembled, alternately wishing he would touch me and cursing myself for wanting him to do so. When he dropped his hand, I turned away from him in embarrassment.

  “I have some gifts for you. In your bedroom.”

  The last place I wanted to be with him was anywhere with a convenient horizontal surface, but I went, anyway. As I passed the open door, I noticed the key had been removed from the lock, the keyhole soldered closed. I had no way to keep Cyrus out should he decide to come courting in the middle of the day. Would you want to keep him out? As disgusting as I found his predilection for pubescent girls, my revulsion didn’t dampen the power of the blood tie. I assured myself it was only the new vampire side of my nature, and that I’d simply learn to ignore it. I had no intention of acting out his perverse fantasies.

  The bed was huge, larger than any I’d ever slept in, and was covered in a thick blue duvet with lace-trimmed edges. A mountain of pillows was at the head, and a half canopy with curtains brushed the high ceiling.

  “This is like a fairy tale,” I said, trailing my fingers over the soft bedspread. It was hard to imagine Dahlia, in her fishnets and heavy eyeliner, curling up to sleep here.

  Cyrus closed the door and leaned against it casually. “I’m glad you like it. Of course, I hope you don’t spend much time here. Look in the armoire.”

  The large mahogany wardrobe was already stocked with clothes. Rich fabrics in colors I’d never imagined myself wearing crowded the space, and when I opened the drawers I found a selection of jewelry that would put Tiffany’s to shame. I nearly choked on my surprise. I was so hypnotized by the sparkling jewels that I didn’t notice he’d stepped behind me until his arms clung around my waist. I jumped, startled, when he reached for a large, pear-shaped emerald pendant.

  “I’ve never had so many…liquid assets,” I rasped as he lifted the necklace to my throat.

  Laughing, he brushed my hair aside. “Everything in this house is yours.” He fastened the clasp, then smoothed the chain against my shirtfront.

  I stepped away, immediately reaching to remove the bauble. “As long as I’m obedient, right?”

  “To a point.” He regarded me with a calculating stare. “I don’t believe I need to press my will with you.”

  A chill crawled up my spine. “And why is that? Because you gave me expensive things?”

  “Because I don’t want to create distance between us. You’re an intelligent woman. You’ll realize soon enough that fighting your true nature is futile. When you do, I will be there.” He turned to the door. “I’m sure you’re tired, so I’ll leave you to settle in.”

  So he wouldn’t require my company after sunup. “What about Cami?”

  Confusion sparked across his face. He’d already forgotten her name. Only after I angrily began to tap my foot did he understand who I was referring to. “Oh, yes, the girl. No, I think I’ll get my rest, as well. However, if you wished to join me after all—”

  “I don’t foresee that happening.” I dropped the necklace into the drawer and slammed it shut.

  “No, of course you don’t. But you know where to find me.”

  I stood in the doorway and watched him exit through the hidden passage. When it closed, a deliberate and ruthless wave of lust washed over the blood tie. I gritted my teeth and closed my eyes.

  God, help me, I pleaded to a deity I’d never bothered to speak to before. If you don’t, my sins are on your head.

  Eleven

  A Sleepless Day, An Uncomfortable Night

  Although there were still hours before sunrise, fatigue forced me into the huge bed. I left the lamp on at the bedside table, as I found it slightly unsettling to be alone in the enormous room.

  You don’t have to be alone. The thought couldn’t have been mine. I sat up, peering into the dark corners of the room to see if Cyrus had returned. But I was the only one present, and as much as I hated to admit it, curling up next to Cyrus was an appealing prospect compared to spending the night by myself in this museum of a bedroom.

  It had to be the blood tie. Cyrus was a monster who preyed upon the weak and helpless. The attraction between us wouldn’t have been so strong if he were anyone but my sire.

  But even I couldn’t believe that. I’d felt the excitement of sinking my fangs into a warm, human neck. I’d known the hot, heady feeling of blood rushing into my mouth from a tapped vein. That kind of gluttonous pleasure could be addictive. I’d done it once, I wanted to do it again, and Cyrus offered the very thing I craved.

  I was attracted to Cyrus because my darker nature wanted me to give in and become like him. A predator, with no remorse or humanity to interfere with my base desires.

  A horrendous scream tore through t
he still night. I ran to my window in time to see a half-naked girl racing across the lawn toward the dark shape of the hedge maze. Four of the Fangs followed her.

  Her pale body cut a glowing streak through the darkness and I recognized her at once. Cami.

  “Don’t look back,” I whispered, willing with all my might that she make it to the maze. She could hide there, maybe even until the safety of daylight.

  But I knew my worry was in vain. I’d seen her kind many times in the E.R., souls so abused they were afraid to find help for their situation. Having escaped death, Cami would just slink back to the house, and death would find her again.

  The vampires gained more ground. She looked over her shoulder, screaming again at the sight of her pursuers. The glass of my window muffled the sound and I was glad for it. I wouldn’t have wanted to hear the full might of her mortal terror.

  Looking back proved to be a fatal mistake. Her feet tangled beneath her and she sank to the ground. All four vampires fell on her. She didn’t scream this time.

  It took them only a moment to finish her. As they dispersed, I caught a glimpse of the body, or what was left of it. They’d ripped her apart and fed until not even her organs remained inside her mangled corpse. She looked like a rag doll whose stuffing had been ripped out.

  I turned away from the window, my body shaking. My heart raced and my lungs burned with the exertion of my heavy breathing. But my reaction came not from horror. Not from disgust at what I’d seen. I’d liked it.

  I’d wanted to be with those vampires. I’d wanted to feel her flesh tear beneath my claws, to rip skin and sinews with my teeth.

  Now I, Dr. Carrie Ames, who took the Hippocratic oath before a crowded auditorium, vowing to never cause harm, never aid death, wanted to kill.

  Sick to my stomach, I forced myself not to look at the grisly scene as I reached to pull the curtains closed.

  I went back to bed, but sleep eluded me. Primal and raw, my hunger tormented me. The knowledge I could simply walk down the hall and pick out a tender, willing human to feed from made it ten times worse. Shuddering and sweating, I resolved to stay where I was. I could ask for blood—in a cup—after sunset.