The Red Veil Diaries (Volumes 1-4)

by Marianne Morea

  The master vampire raised an eyebrow. “You sound as though you forgive their indiscretion.” He paused, studying Sean. “This from the same man who thought nothing of cutting a man’s heart from his chest and offering it to me in a box. Has mated life rendered you so lax, Sean?”

  Lily’s eyes flashed at the unexpected insult. “I understand you’re upset, Sébastien, but hurling passive aggressive jibes is uncalled for and completely unjustified. The four of them hooked up, that’s all. It was just sex. They didn’t commit murder, although it sounds as though you would have preferred that.”

  The master lifted one shoulder and let it drop, the exchange reeking of classic seventeenth century French manqué d’intérêt. Cold indifference.

  The casual dismissal didn’t faze Lily. “Vampire blood is narcotic, Sébastien. It is addictive to our kind, and you know it. Vampires revel in how their blood intoxicates, leaving victims in a state of euphoria. Dash and Gehrig’s lack of caution is what upsets us. Not that they bumped uglies with your girls.”

  The vampire made a face, but didn’t argue the fact. Instead he turned to address Abigail. “It’s beneath us to fraternize with animals. Bette is yet a youngblood. I left it to you to curb her appetites.”

  Sean glared at the master vampire, disbelief and anger dancing in his eyes. “Animals?”

  Sébastien waved a dismissive hand in the air. “A manner of speaking and certainly not one for you to take offense. It is how we distinguish our kind from the dual-natured. I meant no disrespect.”

  “Then mind your words. I find them offensive,” the alpha’s voice was low, but firm.

  The vampire inclined his head, but the muscle in his jaw clenched at the rebuke. His narrowed gaze swept the wolves before focusing again on Abigail and Bette, again.

  “You will sever your attachments, immediately. Seek to further them no more. Have your needs seen to elsewhere, and if your proclivities run toward the unsavory then pay a visit to our backrooms.”

  In tears, Bette glanced at Gehrig before finding Sébastien again. Her lips parted, but she dropped her gaze not saying a word.

  “Is there something you wish say, Bette?” their master asked, raising an eyebrow.

  She shook her head, looking to Abigail for help.

  “You’ll have to excuse her, Sébastien. In the short time the wolves have been with us, she formed a romantic attachment to the young one.”

  Abigail glanced at Gehrig, her eyes resting on Dash before turning back to Sébastien. “They are—that is to say, both wolves are—”

  Sébastien waved her off. “I was not born to darkness yesterday, Abigail. I am well aware of their intoxicating nature, but of all my fledglings, you alone should know to stay away from their poison. The lure of their blood and their pretty tongues are a curse. I forbid any further interaction.”

  Fists clenched, Sean moved to take a step forward, but Lily placed a hand on his arm.

  The master vampire’s eyes snapped to Lily. “No, my dear. Let your wolf approach. I have no fear of him or the feral anger stirring in his body, however compelling and heady the scent.”

  “I banned my hunters from consorting with your vampires as well, but clearly for different reasons,” Sean shot back.

  “Enough!” Sébastien slammed his fist down on the arm of his chair. “I refuse to let you paint this as anything other than what it is. Mixed relations are an embarrassment. I will not have it.”

  Sean eyed the master. “Nor I, but only because of the likelihood of addiction, and nothing else. We’ve chosen not to buy into the old prejudices. Like it or not, the world is changing.”

  “No more.” Sébastien lifted a hand, bringing the argument to a halt. “My verdict is final. As you said, we have important matters to discuss and we’ve wasted precious time. What do you plan to do about this newest scourge? This unexpected outbreak?”

  Sean blinked. Clearly Sébastien was not a fan of change, even in the abstract.

  “This is not a new virus. It’s most likely a new strain of the original. Viruses mutate. It’s a fact that keeps scientists working round the clock. The serum our doctors developed worked perfectly in the spring, and preliminary tests pointed toward complete eradication.”

  “Preliminary?” Sébastien raised an eyebrow. “Are you saying you used the vampire race for clinical trials?”

  “Sébastien, you know both races were treated on a wing and a prayer,” Lily interrupted.

  “Yes. With you as our savior.” The master narrowed his eyes further. “How convenient.”

  Lily stalked two steps forward. “That’s unfair. The wolves offered their help because it was the right thing to do. I offered my help because Sean asked it of me. I was under no obligation then and I’m certainly under no obligation now. I thought our races had finally found a meeting of the minds, but right now you appear as one-sided as ever.”

  Crimson streaks seeped into the vampire’s brown eyes, his fingers curling around the carved end of his armchair in warning. “Keep your witch subdued, wolf.”

  Sean pressed his lips together, guarded. “Time is of the essence, Sébastien, and this is accomplishing nothing. We need to stop posturing for each other’s throats.”

  “Which throats remain intact are yet to be decided, wolf.” Abigail words ground out.

  Her glare flashed red and as though instinct kicked in, she moved to her usual spot flanking Sébastien’s right.

  Surprised, Dash’s eyes jerked from Sean to Abigail. Unapologetic, she lifted her chin and flicked her gaze to Dash, yet when their eyes locked her face softened.

  Sean ignored the outburst, concentrating his attention on the master. “You know better than to accuse us of using vampires as guinea pigs. The virus had spread to the human world. We had no choice but to use the serum as it stood. By late spring everyone tested clear. Vampire, Were, and donor. You saw the data and the results firsthand, Sébastien.

  “It was you who labeled the virus, HepZ, congratulating yourself on your own cleverness. Z—the omega—the last letter of the Greek alphabet and the last we would see of our plague.”

  Sean exhaled before continuing. “Clearly more research is needed. If the current strain proves to be a retro-virus, then I’m not sure what can be done to prevent the spread other than a change in lifestyle.

  “Vampires may have to alter the way they take their pleasure. This has already happened in the human world with the HIV pandemic.”

  Sébastien looked at Sean, aghast. “Unacceptable. Are you suggesting vampires screen their prey before they strike?”

  “Prey?” Lily asked, ignoring sharp looks from both Sean and Sébastien.

  “You are not one to question me, my dear.” Sébastien snapped. “This is the second time you’ve overstepped tonight, and however fond I am of you, you will remember your place in my presence. Rémy is not here and cannot mitigate for you.”

  Lily waved her hand at him. “Sébastien, this is not a time for pomp or protocol. Anger and frustration have thrown both sides into old habits. This weekend you spoke of our races moving to the next level. That our truce should expand from a mere exchange of service to something more substantial.

  “People are dying, and we can’t be sure if even my blood is potent enough to wipe out this new strain. You must listen to reason, Sébastien.”

  Sean nodded. “Lily and I plan to head to the infected shadow house. As promised, she will give each resident vampire a dose of her blood. With your permission, we need current samples from those vamps infected for our researchers. We have the facilities to run further tests. We also want to take the body of the deceased donor—” he glanced at Dash.

  “Leah. Her name was Leah,” the wolf replied.

  Sean nodded. “We want to take Leah’s body for autopsy. We would also like permission to transport the other donor. The one who is gravely ill. I believe we can save her life.”

  Sébastien glanced to one of his guards and the man shook his head. With an annoyed exhale
, the master vampire met Sean’s waiting gaze. “No.”

  “No? Why not?”

  “The infected donor you so gallantly hope to save has also expired. You may do with both bodies as you please, as we have no use for them, but I’m afraid this is where our association ends.” The vampire spread his hands. “However amusing our connection has been, you also are no longer of use to us.”

  “Use?” Lily questioned. “You certainly toss that word around with ease, Sébastien. What about our truce? Our plans for the future? Don’t you think you are being rash?”

  The vampire’s irises glowed red as he pushed his chair back. “You were warned, witch.” In a flash he vaulted forward, fist raised in a backhanded strike.

  Lily slid into defensive stance and lifted her arm to block the blow, but before she could defend herself, Sean lunged for the vampire. Rage poured through his body, his muscles coiling and writhing with the need to phase, but he held back.

  Sean seized the rush of fury in his veins, harnessing the power. His fingers ripped through the vampire’s custom-made suit, a vise grip taking hold of the master’s shoulder.

  “Touch her and you die.”

  Eyes flashing, Sébastien hissed, but relented. He shrugged Sean off and smoothed the front of his ruined suit jacket.

  Dash and Gehrig turned with Lily toward the guards, staring them down ready to phase, but Sébastien snapped his fingers and his guard pulled back. The master walked to his chair and without a word backhanded Abigail, sending her flying into the wall.

  Concrete dust and bits of rock crumbled around her as she slumped to the ground. One of the guards bent to help, but straightened with a single look from Sébastien, leaving her where she fell.

  Dash pushed forward to help her, but Gehrig held him back. “Leave her be. It’s not our place.”

  Sébastien sat, his eyes sweeping Sean and the rest. “That is correct, wolf. At least one of you realizes that fact. It is NOT your place.”

  He shifted his sight to Sean, ignoring the alpha’s still tensed muscles and hair trigger fury. “Whatever fellowship we enjoyed is over. Take yourselves from my sight. I have no desire to begin a war, but should our paths cross again do not expect the same civilities.”

  He let his gaze move to Lily, defying Sean’s warning growl. “Rémy will be informed of our breach, though it is his choice to continue under your spell or side with his own.”

  “Both of you please, stop. This meeting has spiraled out of control. What about the virus?” she asked.

  Sébastien spread his hands, resting his palms casually on either arm of the council chair. “We are no longer your concern. I gave my orders before one word was uttered in this unfortunate debate.”

  “What orders?”

  “Death. You heard my guard—” He gestured to the vampire standing beside Abigail as she struggled to her knees, her hair and shoulders covered in gray concrete dust and blood. “The second donor regrettably did not survive.”

  Lily exchanged a glance with Sean. “But you said she succumbed to the virus.”

  Sébastien’s grin was evil. “Exactly. The moment she took her last breath the entire shadow house was put to death. In the future, death will come to any and all infected, along with everyone they encounter. Vampire, human—” Sébastien’s eyes locked on Sean. “Or Were.”

  “Then you do have a taste for war after all.” The Alpha of the Brethren pulled himself to his full height, all six foot four inches of solid muscle supernatural glory.

  The master shook his head. “Au contraire, mon ami. I have a taste for blood. Now get out before I choose to sample yours.”

  “Time and place, Sebastien. Name it and I’ll be there, claws and fangs waiting.”

  10

  “What is this?” Sébastien asked, looking at the stack of folders in Calypso’s hand.

  “Bette asked me to bring these to you. They are the reports from the Jane Street shadow house.” Her gaze dropped.

  He eyed the human. “Look at me, child.”

  Calypso lifted her eyes.

  “Why did Bette give this to you instead of bringing them herself? Where is she?”

  The girl chewed on her lip. “Finishing up with tonight’s scheduling and staff assignments.”

  He took the reports from her and put them on the desk blotter, but didn’t open them. “Why is Bette handling the staff? Where is Abigail?”

  Calypso’s eyes went wide with dread. “I…I…” she stammered. “I…don’t know.”

  “Leave the child alone, brother. Can’t you smell her fear?”

  Both sets of eyes slid to the visitor at the chamber door leading from the council room.

  “Rémy. I wasn’t expecting you,” Sébastien frowned.

  The blond vampire walked in, his signature cloak draped over his arm. “The weather in Russia is foul this time of year and Jenya had a desire to see the foliage along the east coast.”

  He set his coat on the sofa and moved to a chair in front of Sébastien’s desk. “Calm yourself, Calypso. No one is going to shoot the messenger. Tell Bette to come upstairs after she gets the staff settled.”

  The girl didn’t need to be told twice. Between Sébastien’s growing annoyance and the way the firelight highlighted the ruined half of Rémy’s burned face, she disappeared as quickly as possible.

  “Foliage?” the master raised an eyebrow.

  A wry smirk played on Rémy’s lips. “Why not?”

  Sébastien’s gaze narrowed. “The wolves called you.”

  “Just one.”

  “Sean?”

  Rémy shook his head. “Lily.”

  Sébastien shoved his fountain pen back into its holder. “She’s not even a true wolf.”

  His brother laughed. “No? I thought running with them on the beach two weeks ago proved that otherwise.”

  Sébastien shot him a nasty look. “That means nothing.”

  “Oh, it means a great deal, brother. Even more than you think or have you forgotten she has the ability to walk between worlds, to harness the dead and sees the past as well as the future.”

  “What has that got to do with anything?” The master’s frown pulled down even more.

  “It doesn’t,” Remy replied. “But you seem to forget burning bridges, especially such powerful and fateful ones, are not how you and I survived these past centuries.”

  Sébastien shrugged. The same indifferent shrug he gave Lily two weeks earlier.

  “And imagine my surprise when I learned you severed all connection with the wolves. That you had done so alone, without as much as a nod from the rest of the council.” Remy’s feigned shock was more accusation than anything else.

  “Last I checked, I was the supreme, and I do not require a by your leave from anyone.” Sébastien sniffed.

  Rémy tilted his head in doubt. “I wouldn’t be so sure about that, brother. You may be our supreme, but not when you play fast and loose with the wellbeing of your own kind. You ordered an entire shadow house put to death rather than allow the wolves to come in.”

  “They crossed the line,” he shot back

  Remy’s brow shot up. “You mean they didn’t bow and scrape.”

  Sébastien’s eyes narrowed. “Have a care, brother.”

  “I do care. Something it seems you are incapable of.”

  Sébastien shook his head. “First the Alpha of the Brethren, now you.”

  “What?”

  The master laughed, but the sound was scornful. “You’ve both surrendered your manhood to what lies between a pair of shapely legs.”

  Remy sat back in his chair and pursed his lips. “If I didn’t know you better, I would take offense to that.”

  Both sets of eyes looked at the beautiful dark haired vampire standing in the doorway.

  Despite Sébastien’s glare, Rémy’s lips pulled into a genuine smile. “Moya lyubov.” My love.

  Jenya moved to Rémy’s side, the Russian endearment bringing a glow to her dark eyes. She dipped to
kiss his mouth, trailing her fingers along his cheek before turning to greet his brother.

  “Rather imperious these days, aren’t we, Sébastien. Your Napoleon Complex is showing.” She grinned. “Sounds like you need to get laid.”

  Remy took Jenya’s hand and laughed, but Sébastien sniffed. “Neither of you have a right to judge. You’re off enjoying the delights of marriage and I’m here dealing with this.” He lifted the files from his desk, letting them drop from his fingers for effect.

  “Dramatics, brother?” Rémy chuckled, sliding his arm around Jenya’s waist and easing her onto the arm of his chair “Last I looked, there are no chains keeping you at your post. You revel in control. A trait you and your progeny, Abigail, have in common. Where is she anyway?”

  Almost on cue, Bette knocked on the open door. “You sent for me?”

  Sébastien waved her in. “You remember my brother in blood and his mate.” He gestured to Rémy and Jenya.

  Bette nodded. “It’s an honor to meet you. Would you like some refreshment?”

  “That can wait. Where is Abigail?” Sébastien interrupted.

  Bette looked at the master vampire and squashed the urge to fidget or drop her gaze. “Abigail is ill. She hasn’t left her room for three days.”

  Sébastien stood, pushing his chair back. “Why wasn’t I informed? Has anyone thought to take her sustenance?” He reached for the phone. “Where is the closest shadow house with donors to spare? Calypso is too weak yet, but I will sacrifice her if need be.”

  Bette shook her head. “She won’t feed.”

  His eyes found Bette’s and slowly he put the phone back in its cradle. “What do you mean won’t feed.”

  “She refuses.”

  “That’s ludicrous! I won’t have it.” His hand slapped the desk. “Is this some kind of hunger strike because I sent her wolf lover away?”

  “What?” Rémy +asked. “My, my…look what we miss when we stay away so long. And what does the Alpha of the Brethren have to say about this, brother?”

  “Shut up, Rémy. Why don’t you ask Sean yourself?” Sébastien grumbled.