Bloodgifted

by Tima Maria Lacoba

  ‘He’s more unstable than I thought,’ Luc said.

  ‘You think? Look at those photos.’ Alec jerked his head toward the stage area. ‘He’s been stalking her for years!’

  Luc growled and ripped the drawing into several pieces. ‘I’ll take him down to my study and get Cal to watch him. We’ll decide what to do later. And all this—’ he waved at Jean-Philippe’s work ‘—burn it! I want this room prepared for the Pledging ceremony on Sunday. Leave nothing!’

  His words shocked me. It seemed savage; to destroy a man’s lifetime work. Some of the drawings were beautiful. If Jean-Philippe hovered near the edge of instability, such an action would surely push him over the brink. But seeing Luc’s anger, I could understand why he gave such an order. Still….

  He bent and picked up Jean-Philippe’s limp form, slung him over his shoulder and then went out along the same dark passage from which he and Alec had emerged.

  ‘Are you okay? And I don’t mean physically,’ Alec said as he brushed a few strands of hair off my face. I probably looked a mess. ‘No one should ever have to experience something like that.’ His eyes lightened.

  ‘I’m okay, though a little shaky.’ I shuddered. ‘It’s the photos and drawings that freak me out the most. What will Luc do to him?’

  ‘I don’t know. He can’t stay here anymore, nor can he be allowed to wander free. We’ll have to work something out. Now, where else did he hurt you, darling?’

  ‘Um… shoulders.’

  Alec undid the buttons of my white blouse and slid it down off my shoulders. Immediately he went into physician mode, professionally examining my shoulders and upper arms for bruising.

  ‘Sorry I slapped you.’

  He gave me a dazzling smile. ‘It told me all I needed to know!’

  I winced slightly when he pressed a particularly tender spot—where Jean-Philippe’s fingers had dug deep, leaving red inflamed marks.

  Alec’s face became thunderous. ‘You were supposed to be safe here,’ he said as he covered me up again and re-buttoned my blouse. ‘I never expected this!’

  ‘Neither did I. Not from someone I…’ With his vampire hearing, Alec had probably overheard everything so there was no need to explain my past relationship with Jean-Philippe.

  ‘You don’t need to explain.’ His hand brushed my cheek.

  ‘How did you get in?’

  ‘The old servants’ passages. They lead through the house and end up in the kitchen. One of them comes out behind the raised platform. Just there,’ he pointed. ‘Probably used by an orchestra so they could move discreetly between the ballroom and the kitchens without disturbing the guests.’

  ‘You couldn’t get that mirrored door open?’

  ‘No, I think Jean tampered with the mechanism… somehow locked it from the inside so the hidden lever wouldn’t work. I was about to try that old passage when Luc came out of it.’ He turned to look at the wall behind us—where the entrance should be with the mirror on the other side. ‘So, what did Jean do to it?’ Alec said.

  He went over to the brass hook located about a metre and a half from the floor and raised it up. The wooden-panelled wall in front of us noiselessly divided, revealing the corridor and marble staircase. He pulled the hook downwards and it slid shut once again. I heard a slight click as his hand twisted the hook to the right and then to the left.

  ‘That’s how he’s done it. He’s even kept it oiled!’ Alec tucked me into his side. ‘Feeling better?’

  ‘Yeah.’ I shuddered as I ran my tongue over Philippe’s cruel bite on the inside of my mouth and looked at the reddish marks ringing my wrists. As soon as I lose one set of bruises I gain another. I sighed.

  Alec noticed. He gently cupped my face and his thumb stroked my cheek. ‘If he ever comes near you again, I promise, I won’t just knock him unconscious!’ There was dark certainty in his voice.

  ‘Can I ask you something?’

  He looked at me in surprise. ‘You know you can ask me anything.’

  ‘Why didn’t my blood didn’t kill him?’

  Alec didn’t answer for a while. His brows were drawn and there was an expression on his face I didn’t understand.

  ‘What is it?’

  ‘I’m not sure I fully understand myself.’

  ‘He said he had every right to claim me.’ I grimaced. ‘What did he mean by that?’

  Alec licked his lips and looked thoughtfully at me. It was obvious he didn’t want to answer the question. He knew something and didn’t want to tell me.

  ‘Alec?’

  ‘Honey, it’s your father who needs to tell you, not me.’

  The last time Alec called me “honey” I was in hospital and he was worried. An evil blonde vampire who fancied him had nearly sucked the life out of me. This time the roles were reversed and I was the one being pursued by another blonde vampire. But unlike Maris, my blood seemed to agree with Jean-Philippe. As far as my knowledge of the curse went, only someone descended from the Pictish witch would be unaffected—someone like Alec. Could that possibly mean…? My mouth went dry at the implication and suddenly Jean-Philippe’s words made sense. He’d shown no hesitation in biting me; confident he wouldn’t suffer the same fate as the other two.

  ‘Jean-Philippe has the witch’s blood, doesn’t he?’

  ‘Possibly.’

  ‘How long have you known?’

  ‘Since the hospital… I didn’t like the way he touched you… how he looked at you.’ He paused and a small smile lit his face. ‘I was already in love with you then, just didn’t know it.’

  ‘I tried so hard not to fall for you.’

  ‘Glad you failed, otherwise I’d be forced to dispatch any male who’d dare come near you!’ Then he sobered. ‘I spoke to Luc. Asked him what he knew and it appears Jean-Philippe’s father was the Duke of Atholl, a noble of Pictish blood. But whether he’s descended from the witch… I don’t know.’

  ‘That’s why he came onto me in Sorrento. It was only because he wanted to be Princeps!’

  Anger surged through me and my hands balled into fists. I wanted to hit something—preferably Jean-Philippe—and not just for payback. It was the thought of him romancing me all those years ago so he could be top dog in the vampire world. It was simply my wounded pride, I had to admit, but knowing now he never loved me and that it was just his way of achieving his own ends, was an affront to my dignity.

  Alec placed his hands on my shoulders. ‘Laura, I believe he genuinely fell for you. How could he not, darling?’ He added when I glared at him. ‘I’m not defending him, especially after what he did to you, but I don’t think he even thought about it. You became his obsession.’

  ‘The night of my birthday, why did Luc send you to meet me instead of Jean-Philippe?’

  Alec’s eyes roamed my face. ‘Right,’ he said resolutely, took me by the hand and we started down the staircase.

  ‘Where are we going?’

  ‘You want answers, Laura, and your father’s the only one who can provide them.’

  As we headed for Luc’s study, I glanced down at my blood stained dress. Jean-Philippe would be in the room. Would he go for me again? My hands began to shake.

  ‘I can’t insist you go in there—not after what just happened. We can talk to Luc on the mobile. It’s up to you, darling.’

  We stopped on the landing outside his study. I really didn’t want to see Jean-Philippe again, but there was no avoiding it. There were questions that needed answering and clearly Alec didn’t want to be the one supplying them. I could ask Luc to come out to us, but then why should I? I did nothing wrong. Let Jean-Philippe see what he did to me and let him suffer a guilty conscience—if he had one. I certainly wasn’t going to hide.

  Alec waited patiently while I went through an inner debate. ‘I’m not going to let him make me afraid.’

  He nodded. ‘The moment you feel uncomfortable, we’re out of there.’

  ‘All right.’

  Alec squeezed my hand and kn
ocked.

  ‘Come in,’ Luc called out.

  Chapter 45

  No More Secrets

  LAURA

  The last time I was in this room I learnt Luc and Judith were my true parents. Framed pictures of me—at various stages of life—lined the walls and cluttered Luc’s desk. I glimpsed Philippe—Jean-Philippe, now that I knew his full name—seated on the Chesterfield. He was conscious and his head shot up the instant we walked in. I couldn’t bear to look at him and deliberately kept my head averted, but I could feel the heat of his eyes on me.

  Luc rose from his desk, came over to us, glanced at Alec and with an indication of his head and said, ‘fax.’

  Alec released my hand and strode over to the desk.

  ‘How are you, ma petite?’ Luc asked as his eyes alighted on my swollen lower lip.

  ‘Okay, I suppose,’ I answered and tried smiling back, only it hurt my lip to do so and I winced.

  ‘I’m so sorry, my Laura. It’s my fault. If I had only acted sooner.’

  There were footsteps behind me and I heard Judy’s voice. ‘Luc?’ She walked in. ‘Seems everyone’s here…’ She stopped as she took in my face and blood stained top. ‘Laura dear, what happened?’

  From the corner of my eye I caught movement as Jean-Philippe bowed his head down over his knees, hands clasped in front of him. He didn’t make a sound—no groans, no pleas, no apology… nothing.

  I hope he feels rotten, I thought and experienced a tinge of satisfaction when I glimpsed a trickle of blood from his mouth to his chin. Luc must have hit him, for that broken lip hadn’t come from Alec. If that wasn’t humiliation enough, I was sure there was more to come—some form of harsh punishment for what he did. If Luc and Alec hadn’t found the entrance into that ballroom… I shuddered. How far would he have gone?

  ‘Um…’ I remembered Judy’s question when Alec returned to my side. He held a white sheet of paper in his hand and he gave Luc a nod.

  Luc briefly raised his eyes to the heavens as he turned to Judy. ‘I need a private word, ma cherie.’ He ushered her to a corner.

  I turned to Alec. ‘What is it?’

  ‘Luc’s telling her now.’ He placed his hand on the small of my back and pulled me close against his bare chest. ‘Darling, this is going to be hard on you and no matter how much I would want this to be otherwise—’ he indicated the paper in his hand ‘—you need to know the truth.’

  ‘About what?’

  Alec hesitated. ‘Jean’s father.’

  Now I was really confused. I glanced over to where my parents stood. Whatever Luc was telling her caused her eyes to widen at one point and she placed her hand on his cheek. He turned his head, placed his own hand over hers and kissed her palm.

  As he continued speaking, I watched, fascinated, as her expression darkened. She left his side, marched over to Jean-Philippe and struck him hard across the face, the crack reverberating through the room.

  Jean-Philippe looked up at her—stunned for a moment—then rose to his full height and his eyes changed.

  ‘Jean!’ Luc cried out in warning and he flew to Judy’s side.

  Alec swept me behind him and as one hand held me in place, I felt his entire body tense. I peeked out from behind his arm.

  Judy glared at Jean-Philippe, fists clenched by her side. She was in a fury. ‘You bastard! How could you do such a thing? Only a beast treats a woman like that! She’s so much smaller and weaker than you! Bastard! I want to see you punished for this!’

  Luc managed to drag her away, but she shook off his hands and came over to me; her face, white with fury, softened on seeing me. I probably wore a stunned expression of my own. She tucked my hair behind my ears and closely examined my mouth, then hugged me to her. Alec dropped his arm but not his guard. His face was fixed on Jean-Philippe and a low, deep growl escaped his lips.

  No one else said a word, until Jean-Philippe spoke. ‘Bear witness Lord Lucien Lebrettan. As an Elder of our kind, I challenge Alexander Munro for the right to claim Ingenii Laura.’

  Judy and I turned our heads at the same time, and looked at him open mouthed. ‘No! No way! You will not be Princeps over me. I refuse!’

  Alec stood in front of us, arms folded over his chest. ‘You had your chance at the Ritual.’ He and Jean-Philippe glared at one another. Any moment and the fangs would appear.

  ‘It’s against our law for a man to claim his half-sister as Guardian,’ Luc stated.

  He’s my half-brother?

  He moved toward Jean-Philippe till they stood only a step apart. ‘You are my son, Jean,’ he said. ‘I would have told you sooner, but I wasn’t sure. Forgive me.’

  The shock on Jean-Philippe’s face was as great as my own must have been, and he shook his head in disbelief. ‘Father? You’re my father? No, no… that’s not possible! My mother… on her deathbed… she said… my father was the Duke of Atholl.’

  I had the same trouble believing it, but I knew Luc wasn’t lying. There was no disguising the anguish on his face. My stomach clenched as images of Jean-Philippe, both past and present—touching, holding, and kissing me—raced unbidden through my mind. I felt like retching.

  Jean-Philippe’s face changed from shock to anger. ‘How long have you known?’ he snarled.

  ‘The last few minutes.’ Luc pointed to the paper in Alec’s hand. ‘DNA result. Just faxed through. I took a lock of your hair and sent it to Alec, together with a cheek swab from me. The test came back positive. There’s no doubt, Jean—I’m your father.’

  Jean-Philippe gazed at Luc, for what seemed like an age, while I stared at him. He was my brother, yet there was no physical resemblance between us. I was the image of my father, so he must take after his mother—whoever she was.

  Without warning, he doubled-over as if in pain and an anguished cry rent the air. It was the sound of a soul in torment. Strangely, I had to resist the urge to go to him; offer comfort as one being to another, so agonising was the deep sob torn from him.

  Luc looked on helplessly as the rest of us stood there in stunned silence.

  Jean-Philippe raised his head and his blood-rimmed gaze swept the room. A deep hatred burned in the pale lavender depths of his eyes. ‘Then why did she tell me it was the Scotsman, the Duke of Atholl, instead of you? Why?’

  ‘Sit down, Jean,’ Luc said. The tone of his voice brooked no argument.

  Jean-Philippe complied, his angry gaze fixed on Luc’s face.

  Luc strode over and poured out five glasses of the brandy from the bottle that sat on his desk. He gulped one himself before he poured another and handed a full glass to each of us. ‘Drink it,’ he commanded Jean-Philippe.

  Judy and I downed ours as well. Alec held his and watched his former friend.

  ‘To answer your question, your mother wasn’t sure herself.’ Luc paused. ‘She was a lovely, but sad and lonely woman. Her husband treated her with contempt, womanising and gambling away his fortune. I was visiting with her father, the Duke d’Orleans. He knew what I was—as did she. We liked each other. I needed to feed and she needed… comfort. It was a mutual agreement. I left the next day when the Duke of Atholl’s carriage arrived. Several of the French nobility were with him, seeking refuge from the Revolution at her father’s estate.’

  ‘It seems my mother had a lot of comforting that week,’ Jean-Philippe said, his voice acid.

  Luc ignored the disparaging remark, poured himself another shot of brandy and continued. ‘We didn’t see each other again after that night. Later I learned she had a child—exactly nine months after we were together. I knew the Scottish duke had also become her lover during that time. Whether she was with anyone else I couldn’t say. I didn’t get close enough to catch a scent. So you see, I was never sure you were mine.’

  ‘Why didn’t you check? You could have come back to see her to make sure!’

  ‘I did, Jean. I did! Risked my life to slip into your room when you were a child, even though I was being hunted—as our kind were during tha
t time. I had to keep my distance to protect you and Adelaide.’

  ‘Is that why she told me the Duke was my father?’

  ‘Try to understand your mother’s position. She was separated from her husband, took a lover—or two—and had an illegitimate child. As if that wasn’t bad enough for her reputation, do you think she would reveal that one of those lovers was a vampire, a creature of the night, a blood-sucking fiend the local villagers would have come after with pitchforks and wooden stakes?’

  He had a point. Jean-Philippe bowed his head and twirled the empty brandy glass in his hands.

  ‘In spite of that,’ Luc continued, ‘I came back when you were fourteen to see whether you’d change at puberty, as I had. I watched and waited for many years, but you didn’t change, Jean! YOU. DIDN’T. CHANGE!’

  I felt like an intruder in a private conversation, yet fascinated all the same. Judy, Alec and I may as well have been invisible.

  ‘Next time I saw you…’ Luc shrugged helplessly. ‘You’d become one of us.’

  ‘Lucinda changed me. Found me wounded and dying on the battlefield.’ His words tumbled out in a hoarse whisper.

  Luc’s eyes closed and he gave a barely detectable nod. ‘I know her.’

  ‘My mother lied to me,’ he murmured.

  ‘To protect you!’

  Jean-Philippe’s head snapped up, he glared at Luc and then slowly turned his head in my direction. ‘My half-sister! And I wanted to…’

  So he was going to do it. He’d been desperate enough to try to take me by force and there was no way I could have stopped him. The thought sickened me. If Alec and Luc hadn’t arrived when they did… I gasped and buried my head in my hands.

  Judy hugged me close and said, ‘It didn’t happen dear. It didn’t happen.’

  ‘It nearly did! I’ll never get it out of my head,’ I said.

  ‘Judy’s right, darling. Remember, we came on time and it didn’t happen. Keep telling yourself that.’

  Judy let go as I twisted out of her embrace and into Alec’s.

  Jean-Philippe hadn’t moved and I was aware of his gaze. Was he trying to see me with new eyes—as his sister? Could we put this horrible incident behind us?