Blood Awakening

by Tessa Dawn

  The kid’s eyes positively beamed beneath his broad smile, and he became even more energetic as he went forward with his theory. “Okay, so Draco made the Blood Moon for Marquis—to show him his destiny—and his evil twin in the Abyss sat up and started paying attention. Well, should the light and the dark be poured out together: blood tortured in innocence; sealed through burnt offering just means that if some assho—” He caught himself in time. “Some jerk, like Salvatore, wanted to mess things up, then he could do it as long as he used the right ingredients, sort-of-like making a witches brew with the things connected to Marquis’s life: blood tortured in innocence and blood sealed through burnt offering.”

  Nachari winced and took a deep breath.

  Braden looked away. “Do you want me to stop?”

  Nachari shook his head. “No, Braden: I know where you’re going with this, and it’s okay. I need to hear your theory.”

  Braden frowned and nodded. “The blood tortured in innocence was your twin’s—Shelby’s. Marquis’s little brother was innocent, yet his blood was spilled through torture anyway.”

  Nachari closed his eyes and concentrated on a neutral image—the sunset—trying to shift his focus away from the picture the young vampire had just painted. The truth hurt way too much, yet this was too important to avoid. “Go on,” he muttered, his eyes blinking back open.

  Braden swallowed. “Sorry.”

  Nachari put his hand on his shoulder. “Go on.”

  “The blood sealed through burnt offering was the dude you and Marquis killed—Valentine.” He shrugged. “Sorry, I picked it out of your mind when you were reading the stanza because you were thinking about it. Wow, you guys messed him up bad and then left him to burn in the sun...cool. Yeah, that’s definitely a burnt offering.”

  Nachari shook his head, contemplating Salvatore’s intelligence. The sorcerer could not have possibly known what they did to Valentine at the time he crafted the spell. But apparently, he didn’t have to: If he had divined even the hint of fire or smoke—Valentine’s last moments being taken by the sun—it would have been enough to add to the curse. The thought gave him chills. Salvatore was, indeed, a powerful adversary. “Then the name of the holy shall be reversed means what to you?” Nachari asked, urging Braden on.

  “The reverse of the holy god, Draco, is Ocard—his unholy, dark twin in the Abyss.”

  Nachari held out his hand and placed it over Braden’s heart. He spoke three quick incantations, and a flow of golden light leapt from his fingertips into the boy’s chest, radiating outward in a seal of protection. “Braden, you are correct. The reverse name of a god or goddess is the name of their dark twin, but such names should never be spoken aloud. Speaking them invokes them.”

  Braden’s skin turned ghostly white, and his heart began to race.

  Nachari smiled reassuringly. “Do not worry; I have placed you in a seal of protection that will remain until the energy of the name you spoke is no longer drawn to you. If I would’ve known you had the ability to discern all of this, I would’ve warned you ahead of time, but you’re fine now. Trust me. Go on.”

  Braden swallowed a huge lump in his throat and eyed the white aura around him. “You sure?”

  “I’m positive.”

  Braden nodded slowly. “Okay. So anyway, when the name of a god is reversed, then light shall become dark and dark shall become light.” He looked around the room warily.

  Nachari gripped his shoulder. “Braden, you’re fine. Hey, think of it this way—you also invoked the name of Draco, right? The good god. The powerful one.”

  Braden nodded and looked up toward the sky. “Draco, Draco, Draco,” he repeated quickly.

  Nachari laughed. “There you go.”

  Braden smiled, feeling instantly better. “Okay, so if light is dark and dark is light, that just means that everything is reversed. Everything is backward.”

  “And the seal of the light shall affix to a tortured soul?” Nachari asked.

  “Well, the way my dad explained it, the male’s constellation appears on the arm of his destiny at the same time the Blood Moon is in the sky so that the male is absolutely sure he’s got the right woman. ’Cause that would really suck...getting that wrong.”

  “You’re not kidding,” Nachari agreed.

  “And the woman is always within his sight at the time it appears—no matter what.”

  Nachari nodded. “That’s correct.”

  “So if Marquis’s constellation is Draco, then the seal of the light would be the seal of Draco—the markings of Draco on his woman’s arm.”

  “I agree.”

  Braden beamed with self-satisfaction. “I don’t know the whole story about what happened the other night, but I do know what torture is: hurting someone real bad to make them do or say what you want. Kristina’s boyfriend beat her up a lot, didn’t he?”

  Nachari nodded, solemn. “Yes, he did.”

  “Well then, she was definitely a tortured soul, and she was obviously in Marquis’s sight at the time of the Blood Moon. So the seal of Draco was affixed to Kristina instead of Marquis’s real destiny.”

  “And the soul bound by darkness shall be sealed with torture?”

  “Well, I think the soul bound by darkness would have to be Marquis’s real destiny because she was supposed to be bound to him, bound by the light of Draco. Instead, she’s walking around in darkness, and from what my dad said, being separated from one’s life mate—their true destiny—is torture. They could even die. So if Salvatore switched it all up, his true destiny would have to be hurting really bad.”

  Nachari sank back into the sofa and crossed his arms over his chest. “Yes, Braden, I believe she is.”

  The kid cracked his knuckles then. “So, how did Salvatore do it?”

  Nachari shrugged his shoulders. Although he knew exactly what Salvatore had done, there was no need to share such gruesome details with the youngster. Salvatore had taken advantage of the spell the moment he saw Marquis’s Blood Moon. He had probably read the stanza aloud three times while offering a sacrifice to Ocard—more than likely the blood of some innocent female whose throat he had slit. Wow. Well, no wonder things had been so crazy lately.

  Glancing at his young protégé, he couldn’t help but feel an enormous sense of pride. How in the world had the kid deciphered so much, so easily? He laughed aloud then, considering the fellowship of wizards back in Romania. They had given him the kid as a test of patience, knowing that he would come across as a bumbling young boy, awkward and insecure.

  But the real test had been something altogether different.

  Braden Bratianu was a seer.

  And a powerful one at that.

  A natural who didn’t have a clue about the scope of his abilities. He was a diamond in the rough, and the old guys had placed him with Nachari to determine whether or not the wizard could see past the clumsiness. Could Nachari see beyond all the theatrics, spiked hair, and pouting, and still recognize the genius inside?

  Amazing: A lot of things were beginning to make sense all of a sudden, and Nachari shuddered to think what could have happened if Braden had not been feeding at his wrist at the precise moment Nachari had been reading the dark book. But then again, wizards didn’t believe in coincidence. The gods revealed what they wanted to reveal for a reason. In this case, not just for Braden, but also for Marquis.

  Nachari jumped up from the couch and headed toward the stairs, his heart lighter than it had been in days.

  “Where are you going?” Braden asked.

  “To the roof, my friend. To check my telescopes.”

  Braden raised his eyebrows in question, his body quivering with excitement.

  “Now that we know,” Nachari explained, “it should be right there in the sky—as plain as day.”

  “What should?”

  “Draco reversed. The other night, I noticed that the tip of the constellation was in the wrong position, pointing to the place where we would find Ciopori, but I never bothere
d to measure all of our Lord’s stars. At the time, Draco just looked like Draco—still intact. But what do you bet, our dragon lord was reversed?”

  Braden’s eyes grew to the size of quarters. “Can I come?” He quickly looked away, trying to appear cool, afraid to sound too eager.

  Nachari regarded the young seer appreciatively, his wisdom well beyond his years.

  “Absolutely, Braden. Absolutely.”

  twenty-one

  Marquis was sitting on the bank of the river, just beyond his back porch, when he heard Kristina approach from behind, her soft footsteps padding quietly along the deck. As he turned to watch her approach, he assessed her color and the fluid way she moved. It had been mere hours since he had fed her at Napolean’s manse, yet she was already healed.

  “How are you feeling?”

  Kristina shrugged. “All right, I guess.”

  Marquis recognized the long, heavy robe she was wearing, dark blue, swallowing her frame whole—it was his. He made a mental note that he would have to do something about it immediately, either take her shopping or stop by her apartment to retrieve the remainder of her things. So much had happened in such a short time, he hadn’t had an opportunity to properly attend to his destiny. Like it or not, that had to change.

  “So, whatcha doing?” she asked, looking around and scrunching up her face as if she couldn’t figure out why in the world anyone would sit on the bank of a river.

  Marquis sighed. “You should be sleeping.”

  Kristina frowned. “So should you.”

  “Is the guest room not comfortable?”

  She shrugged once again, her bouncy red hair falling slightly forward from the motion. “It’s cool, I guess. You know, kind of uptight for my taste, but then considering the source...” She stopped her own ranting. “Sorry.”

  Marquis just shook his head. “I didn’t know rooms could be uptight.” He quickly waved his hand to dismiss the comment before a sparring-match ensued. He was exhausted and not at all in the mood for twelve-rounds with Kristina. Ciopori’s earlier rescue had disrupted his normal daytime sleep-schedule, and it was much too late to go to bed now. He knew if he slept through the night, it would just make things worse—kind of a hazard of being a nocturnal creature.

  “So...” Kristina shrugged and clutched her arms to her stomach. She took a deep breath, held it, and then exhaled slowly. “So...you wanna do it, or what?”

  Marquis shut his eyes.

  “Well?” she asked.

  “Do what, Kristina?”

  She rolled her eyes. “You know what. Do it.”

  Marquis fought not to blanch. Do it? Gods, what had been his crime? And was there no other worthy penance? He raised his head to meet her eyes just to see if she was serious.

  Apparently, she was.

  He was just about to give her a tongue-lashing when he thought better of it, curiosity getting the best of him. “Why the sudden change of heart?”

  Kristina plopped down beside him, nearly tripping on the long hem of the robe. Her dainty arms disappeared in the sleeves as if she had none. She blew a piece of curly hair away from her eyes and sighed. “The way I figure it, we should just go ahead and do it like normal people, and the sooner we get it over with the better.”

  Marquis resisted the urge to get up and walk away. “And why would that be?”

  “Lots of reasons.” She forced a missing arm down through a massive sleeve and began to chew nervously on her fingernail. “First of all, you promised me my own pink Corvette, clothes, jewelry, an iPod. And I’m pretty sure you’re not gonna let me out of this house until everything’s squared away and you’re safe—you know, from the whole curse thing. So, a month being cooped up? Yeah, that doesn’t really do it for me. Plus, it’s not like I have to feel anything, I mean, in terms of the pregnancy and birth, right? You can put me to sleep or in some kind of trance, can’t you?”

  Marquis considered it a rhetorical question. He’d like to put her to sleep for the next century.

  “And you promised a full-time nanny, so I don’t really have to bother with the kid, either, right?”

  Marquis grunted, nodding his head.

  “Well, then why make ourselves crazy and sick thinking about it for the next however many days, when we can just get it behind us and go on with our lives? Honestly, boss, I’d rather get it over with…if you don’t mind. And you know, if you wanna use that mind control stuff to make it easier, that’s cool. It’s only one time; we’re both adults. And you’re obviously not letting me go—” She bit her tongue to stop her rambling.

  Marquis ran his hands through his thick dark hair and wished he could be anywhere but where he was. “Well, that was certainly the most passionate seduction I’ve ever encountered.”

  “Ha. Ha.” She rolled her eyes.

  “Kristina...” He spoke slowly. “I am sure you are right: If we forego invitro, then eventually, it will probably come down to just that. But as for tonight, I’m just not ready to go forward like this. Forgive me if I need a little more time to adjust to the inevitability of our situation.”

  Kristina looked surprised and mildly offended. “You don’t want me, do you?” She turned away.

  Marquis’s head snapped to the side. What in all of creation did that have to do with anything? He was at a complete loss for words.

  “Yeah,” she whispered, “that’s what I thought. It’s cool. I understand.”

  Marquis cleared his throat. “Kristina, you have made it crystal clear that you would rather slide down a razor-blade into a tub of alcohol than be with me—that you despise me and this whole situation. And I can’t blame you. No, I don’t spend my nights pining away for you, if that’s what you’re asking.” He tossed a rock into the river and watched it skip in perfect increments all the way to the other side. “What is it that you want from me this night, Kristina?”

  Kristina stared down at the ground. A single tear crystallized in her eye, and she quickly brushed it away. “Look,” she said softly, “I know this whole thing has been totally whack. And the thing with Dirk”—she held back her sniffles—“shit, Marquis, that was so messed up, how you killed him right in the front yard as if he was nothing—as if I’d never even loved him or known him.”

  Marquis stared at her intently. “He was dragging my mate across the front lawn by her hair…and threatening to kill us both. If I had been a mere human, I would have killed the man for the insult. But being a vampire and a warrior? Be realistic, Kristina—”

  “I know. I know.” She held up her hand. “Let’s not go there again. I know!”

  They sat in silence for what seemed like forever before she tried her own hand at skipping a rock, only to watch it sink like a cement block the moment it hit the water. “So much for increased power and skill.” She scowled.

  Marquis frowned. He picked up a smooth rock and placed it in her palm. Holding his much larger hand over hers, he drew back and demonstrated the smooth, forward motion of a throw several times in a row, working her arm in a soft, easy glide. On the last repetition, he let go, and the rock flew out of her hand, skimming across the top of the water.

  Kristina threw back her head and laughed. She picked up a pair of rocks and tried again. The first one started to bounce but quickly sank. She looked back at him with interest.

  Marquis demonstrated the smooth, easy toss again with his own arm, only this time, she watched carefully, imitating the movement on her own. And then she threw the second rock, skipping it all the way across the river.

  “Did you see that!” She began searching the ground for more stones.

  The corner of Marquis’s mouth turned up, but it wasn’t really a smile—perhaps a step in the right direction. Kristina was like a child. And being mated to her was going to be like raising one: a one-sided deal. If he was being honest, she reminded him a lot of Braden Bratianu, Nachari’s young charge, just a little bit older and a lot more cynical. Hardened.

  “Listen,” she said as she continu
ed to toss stones across the river, some skipping, some sinking, and some ricocheting off larger rocks, “I know that Dirk was bad, and I should’ve left him a long time ago. And I know that none of you guys were gonna let that go on forever, but I just wasn’t ready...and especially not for all this.” She swept her arm around the two of them, gesturing next toward the property and the house. “And I know that he would’ve killed me, that you saved my life the other night, even if you were an evil, evil monster to convert me the way you did!” She glared at him for a minute before softening her gaze. “And well, yeah, today—what you did earlier, helping me feed and letting me save face and all—yeah, that was kind of cool of you. So I guess I kind of owe you, ya know? I mean, if saving your life is that easy to do, then sure; why not?” She swallowed hard, her expression betraying her underlying anxiety.

  “Thank you,” Marquis said evenly, trying to be noble. “But those are all the wrong reasons, Kristina—”

  “Marquis! Stop! Just stop.”

  He swallowed his words and waited.

  “Don’t you see how hard I’m trying? Don’t you get it?” She shook her head and dropped the handful of stones. “I’m all messed up in the head to begin with...behind Dirk...and that ain’t gonna change any-time soon. You and me, we have about as much in common as a polar bear and a giraffe—”

  “A polar bear and a giraffe?” The words slipped out. It was just…gods, where in the world did she get this stuff?

  “Okay, a lion and a chimpanzee. Is that better?”

  “Uh, yeah—much better. Thanks for the clarification.” Good gods.

  She huffed, indignant, but ignored the sarcasm. “And you might not like the situation anymore than I do, but at least you’re not scared all the time. And at least you’re not helpless.”

  “You’re not—”

  “Yes I am, Marquis!” She stomped her foot against the ground and threw up her arms in exasperation. “Damn. Don’t treat me like I’m stupid! Why do you always do that? Why do you have to take away every little bit of control I might have? What do you want from me? For me to get down on my knees and admit that you’re bigger, you’re stronger, you’re faster—and smarter—you can kill me anytime you want? Well, fine, I said it!” She was shaking from head to toe and struggling to make it stop. “At least let me say when. At least let me say how. Why can’t you just let me do what I’m ready to do while I still have the courage?” Her trembling stopped, and she steadied her voice. “Maybe that’s my way of handling things: Did you ever think of that? Maybe that’s just how I deal.” She parked her hands on her hips. “Maybe I want this behind us because it’s like a dark freakin’ cloud hanging over my head, and every day we wait, I just get more scared. And you just get more powerful.”