Xavier: Vampires in Europe (Vampires in America Book 14)

by D. B. Reynolds

  “Fill de puta.” His own curse filled his thoughts and crashed against the brain of this fresh challenger. He didn’t recognize the new vamp’s mind and didn’t think they’d ever met. Word must have travelled of his battle with Dênis, bringing out fools like the one he’d killed so easily just before dawn. And now this one, though this new challenger was obviously a more serious contender. It would take power to disturb his thoughts during sleep. This vampire had possibly been sitting back and watching the carnage, waiting while the weaker challengers butchered each other and winnowed the field, thinking he would then step up, destroy whoever remained, and claim the territory.

  But now Xavier had arrived and blown a hole in his careful plan. Hah! The bastard didn’t know it yet, but Xavier was going to do more than just blow a hole in his fucking plan. Josep’s territory was his, had always been his. By rights, he should have challenged his Sire when it became plain that his own power was the greater. He’d delayed out of love and respect for Josep, but he owed nothing to anyone else.

  Rising from his bed, he bathed quickly and went upstairs to enjoy a cup of tea while waiting for the others to wake. He needed blood after the previous night. Dios mio, he’d fought and killed—well, more or less fought when it came to that last one—three challengers. He needed to feed, and feed well, since this next night promised to be a repeat of the last.

  It was almost an hour before the others managed to join him, but they were as eager to do some hunting as he was. They’d all dressed in their best, with a bit of borrowing from Xavier’s closet. The trousers were all too big, since Xavier was a much bigger man than most, but the shirts adjusted easily enough. A quick brush of the hair and they were all ready.

  “Best luck for blood in this city is a society party,” Xavier said. “All those pretty virgins trapped in their papas’ houses, and eager for a bit of an evil romp.”

  “Evil?” Chuy asked. “How’s that?”

  “You were raised in the Church. You know we’re included in the devil’s pantheon. Lower than Lucifer himself, naturally.”

  “Is lower better or worse? Seems to me the ranks in hell would have the worst, and thus the best evil at the bottom.”

  Xavier and the others laughed as they strolled down the street, eyes on a brightly lit house just ahead, wide open and full of people who were spilling out into the cooler air in the yard.

  “Allà hi aneu, gaudiu.” Xavier gestured at the crowd of well-dressed men and women, his own eye on a dark-haired beauty who was already casting her gaze his way. Ah, yes. That one was definitely ready for a taste of evil.

  Twenty minutes later, he had the dark-haired, and as it turned out, dark-eyed beauty pressed up against a wall, deep in the shadows. She cried out when his fangs slid into her satiny skin and pierced her vein. But her cries soon turned to moans of pleasure when the erotic effect of his bite took hold, and sexual ecstasy took over her body. Xavier had one hand on her rounded, bare ass, and the other on the back of her neck while he slipped his stiff shaft into the silky wetness of her cony. There was no virginal bleeding. He’d have smelled it if there was. So this wasn’t the sweet thing’s first taste of evil. His beauty was a little bit bad. It made her blood all the sweeter.

  She shuddered when her body squeezed his cock, the final temptation all that he needed to spill himself inside her. He wondered who’d deflowered her, and if he’d been a vampire. There was no need to worry about disease from a vamp, and no bebès either. Maybe she was smart enough to know that. It was an intriguing thought since he’d be in town for a while this time.

  Once he’d finished with all these useless challenges, he’d have Josep’s estate to deal with. It would take months to transfer the official property records, and then there were his other assets, too many of which he’d have to seek out in order to claim. At some point, he’d no doubt throw up his hands and leave it. Josep’s wealth was too far flung. He wouldn’t have time for all of it. But there must be a clerk or two among the vampires in this city. He’d lay it all at their feet, while he worked on making a permanent home for his people. He’d claimed an old fortress several miles outside the city and intended to repair it sufficiently, so that he and the bulk of Barcelona’s vampires could move into it. It wouldn’t be much at first, but they were vampires. They had time.

  “What’s your name, bellesa?”

  “Immaculada,” she said, wrinkling her pretty nose.

  Xavier smiled while he removed his cock from her heat and straightened his clothing. “And what do they call you?”

  “Imma. No one calls me the other except my parents.”

  “Of course. Well, Imma, I’m going to be in town a while.” He whispered his address in her ear. “Ring the bell any time. There’s always someone to answer, and they’ll leave you for me.”

  “Confident, aren’t you?”

  “I’m better than you’ve ever met, bella Imma. Better than you will ever meet again.” He licked the line of blood trailing down her elegant neck. “I’ll see you soon.” And, feeling bold and well fed, he used a bit of his power to build shadows around himself, so that it would seem to her he’d disappeared into the night. And thus were tall tales of vampires created, he thought with grin.

  Though he and the others walked down many streets and up a few alleys, no one rose to challenge him. And that was a puzzle. Someone, some vampire, was currently holding the territory. Not well, and definitely not with enough power to defeat Xavier, but enough that it grated at his senses like a stone in his boot. His own presence had to be doing the same to whoever this weak vampire lord was, but the vamp was hiding. Recuperating maybe, from what had been weeks of vampire battles. Then again, this one wouldn’t have lasted for weeks, so he’d most likely arrived in the city not long before Xavier himself.

  Whatever was keeping the pathetic Lord of Spain, who clearly didn’t deserve the title, in hiding, there was nothing Xavier could do about it. So he signaled to the others and strode directly home instead. His human servant, Albert, was waiting with tea and wine. Albert had been with him for ten years now, growing from a restless teenager to a responsible man while serving as Xavier’s eyes and ears during the day. He seemed content with his position. He had access to a generous household fund, and if he ever decided to take a wife, Xavier hoped they’d remain with him. Even after the children came.

  He wanted his Fortalesa, which is what he’d decided to call the old citadel, to be a village with humans and vampires living together, creating families by birth or adoption. Whatever it took for all of them to feel as if they were safe and belonged. That was what he wanted for his headquarters, his lair, when he became the new Lord of Spain.

  All he needed now was for the present cowardly lord to show himself and die.

  XAVIER WAS FILLED with determination when he rose the following night. Still flush with Imma’s generously offered blood, his power was like a feral creature demanding unchained violence. When the others finally rose, they found him pacing the front parlor, unable to remain still.

  “He’s lost whatever power he was using to hide himself. I know where he is.”

  Chuy stood in the kitchen with the other two vampires. Rémy and Hadrien were twin brothers whom he’d come across in France, when he’d ventured over that border. It had been done mostly out of curiosity, but finding the two had been a stroke of luck. Especially when they’d proved willing to join him in his search for a permanent home. They looked like they were in their early twenties, and in reality, they were not much beyond that. But they were tall and strong, and together had enough power to fight off any vampires who might think to take advantage of his distraction when he was in the midst of a challenge.

  All three put down their evening tea and gave him their full attention. “Is tonight the night, then?” Chuy asked.

  “It is. Are you ready?” His question was directed at the group, and
they all answered with a bob of the head and single word.

  “Sire.”

  “Victory awaits us.”

  THE OTHER VAMPIRE was waiting for him. He was older than was typical for a vampire, well into his thirties when he’d been turned, Xavier would guess. But he’d been a vampire long enough for its healing effects to have worked on him. And that wasn’t the only aspect of the vamp that drew Xavier’s attention. He’d seemed weak the previous night, as if struggling to remain hidden. But Xavier saw now that it had been a ruse, a mask of sorts to fool the challenger he’d known had been searching for him.

  Xavier smiled inwardly. That was all right. The power burning inside him had been hungry for violence and it would certainly get it from this one. “Xavier Prospero Flores,” he said by way of introduction, when he stood no more than twelve feet from the other vampire.

  “Leonardo Gilberto,” the vamp replied, letting his true power gleam through his eyes just enough to be seen.

  Xavier smiled at the show of power and said, “Portuguès. Is there not enough blood in your country to feed its vampires? Or perhaps what remains is too weak?”

  The other bared his fangs in a grin. “We’ll see whose blood is the weaker tonight.”

  “No more hiding, Leonardo?”

  “I wasn’t hiding,” he growled. “I had other business.”

  “A shame to spend your last night on earth conducting business.”

  “It would be. I trust you were better engaged.”

  Xavier returned the grin. “Is our little chat sufficient to establish mutual honor?”

  Leonardo removed the short cape he’d been wearing and tossed it aside. “Sufficient to me.”

  “Do you have a blade?” Xavier inquired. The physical blades weren’t necessary, but some vampires preferred them, and he did want to be a gentleman.

  The other vamp held out both hands to show they were empty, and since there was no blade at his hip, Xavier removed his own sword and passed it to Chuy. He looked around. “This seems private enough. Anyone who decides to watch does so at their own peril.”

  “Suits me.” Without further warning, Leonardo raised a rainbow- colored shaft of power and threw it at Xavier like a javelin.

  It glittered in the air as it flew . . . and disintegrated into a shower of colors when it crashed against Xavier’s rapidly formed shields. It was for attacks just like this one that he’d spent so much time designing and working with his personal shield. It drew away from his power when he fought, and many vampires didn’t have the energy to spare. But he did, and it was well worth it.

  He grinned at his opponent’s look of dismayed surprise, and with practiced ease raised his own blade of power, adding a ray of icy blue to the color show. Stepping forward with vampire speed, he slashed at Leonardo, who managed a last minute riposte with a second, shorter blade that remained stable barely long enough to defend against the strike before shattering into useless sparks.

  Xavier plunged closer, taking advantage of Leonardo’s shock, hoping to end this one fast, despite the thirst for a bloody victory he’d enjoyed earlier. He’d had his fill of blood and gore when he’d arrived. But it seemed Leonardo wasn’t finished yet.

  In a burst of multicolored energy, he crossed two big blades in front of his chest, repelling Xavier’s strike and shoving him several steps back. Xavier recovered immediately, forming a second blade of his own, shorter but just as deadly. It was the fighting style he’d preferred as a human and perfected as a vampire.

  They moved on each other, energy-driven blades flashing like lightning in the black night, filling the air with sizzling magic and the smell of burning energy. Xavier managed to slip his short blade beneath Leonardo’s defense and slide it into his gut. The other vamp grunted, but kept fighting. It hadn’t been a fatal blow, Xavier knew, but it had been deep enough to cause blood to flow freely down Leonardo’s tunic and to his leg. He’d either have to spend power to heal it, or bleed power away uselessly.

  Leonardo crossed both blades and shoved Xavier backwards, taking two quick steps back himself to increase the distance between them. He’d chosen to heal the gut wound. But Xavier was under no obligation to give him the time and space to do so. He attacked, taking power from his shield to push closer, wanting to get inside Leonardo’s defense and inflict more damage.

  But the other vampire saw him coming, and unexpectedly threw both blades into the air, where they dissipated into nothing, while at the same time a huge cudgel of power grew from the grip of his hands. Swinging the new, brutal weapon, he took Xavier on the shoulder, sending him stumbling backward. Xavier’s blades flew from his loosened grip, when he matched Leonardo’s move and manifested a brutish weapon of his own. Holding it in both hands, he deflected what would have been a fatal strike, then jumped to his feet and hardened his shield as he prepared for the furious and bloody battle his vampire soul longed for.

  Blow after blow fell. Cudgels slammed into each other with bone- breaking force as often as they were deflected. Xavier’s left shoulder was screaming with pain, but he kept fighting. Barely avoiding a strike that would have broken his leg and probably ended the bout, he swung behind Leonardo and struck him in the shoulder and upper back, then continued his dance to the other side of his opponent, and manifested a knife. Stabbing it quickly into the vamp’s other shoulder, he left the blade buried in flesh, to drain power from the bloody wound.

  Leonardo’s gaze had dimmed from his earlier proud display, and for the first time, Xavier could glimpse the possibility of failure in the other vampire’s eyes. He was much like Xavier in that he hadn’t expected a real fight from anyone. He’d been so confident in his own strength that failure hadn’t even been considered. Unfortunately, Xavier wasn’t in this fight to draw, or even to accept surrender. Victory was the only acceptable outcome, and there was no such thing as compassion in a battle to the death. He struck with the cudgel first, a powerful blow that scraped along the similar weapon Leonardo raised in defense. Without pause, Xavier continued with a backward strike, just as he would have if holding a fencing blade, rather than this crude weapon better suited for the brutes who’d first created it, rather than two gentlemen of the aristocracy.

  The idea made Xavier laugh. There was nothing gentlemanly about this battle, no matter how they’d begun. It was brute strength vs the same, with the pitiless addition of vampire magic and ambition. Leonardo released one blade, but advanced with a new great sword gripped in both hands, swinging it before him with skill and determination.

  Xavier’s shoulder protested with tearing pain when his blade and the other met in a horrific shriek of metal and magic that lit the enclosed yard they stood in. He and Leonardo stood almost toe to toe, their eyes meeting over their crossed blades, each knowing that the first to fail would be the first to fall. They were too close to each other, their power too focused on their blades and defense to create a new weapon or shield in time.

  Leonardo’s eyes were shining orbs of rusty orange, and Xavier could see the dull silver glow of his own gaze glinting off the vampire’s sweat-covered skin. Their teeth were bared, fangs displayed, and deep growls rumbled from their chests. Xavier almost regretted having to kill this one. He would have been an excellent warrior to have at his side, a good friend in the centuries ahead. But they’d taken the challenge too far. If he let Leonardo walk away, he’d only end up fighting him again, and he might lose that battle. They were that closely matched.

  Using the extra edge of power that made him what he was, he manifested a double-edged knife in his free hand, took an abrupt step back to free enough space, crossed his knife arm over his sword arm, then reclaimed the step he’d taken, and drove the blade into Leonardo’s heart, shoving it deeper with a twist of power that shot sparks outward in a circle of magical energy that blew the vampire’s heart into a burning ball of shredded flesh.

 
Leonardo managed a grunt of surprise as he stumbled back and gasped, “Ut victoriam Xavier.” And in the moment before he dissipated into a dusting that was incredibly fine and complete, Xavier knew he’d been a very old vampire.

  Xavier released every bit magic that had been hovering around him, and bent over with his good arm braced on one knee. His companions would alert him to any danger, and protect him as necessary. But right now, he just needed to breathe, to let his power settle in his gut and bones, in his—

  The blow came so hard that it dropped him to the ground on all fours, a whirlwind of power and memory that slammed through skin and bone to occupy every inch of his body, from his feet to his chest and into his fucking brain until he thought his head would explode from the pressure. At the last moment, it spun out of his head and back to his chest where it took up residence in his heart like a red hot coal.

  Letting out a snarl that was half groan, he fell flat to the ground, rolling to his back when memories finally began flooding his brain, telling him what this was, what was happening to him. The thundering power of a vampire lord was now his, the cacophony of what seemed like every vampire living in Spain crying for comfort, demanding protection, demanding to know who he was.

  As for the memories, they were a gift from his Sire, centuries of living that were now his to draw upon for knowledge, for guidance.

  He took time to gaze only at the final moments of his Sire’s life. He wanted to know sure that the one who’d killed Josep was dead. If not, Xavier wouldn’t rest until he’d hunted the fool down and taken his life. But rather than seeing the face of Josep’s killer at the moment of his death, he heard instead his Sire’s words of warning.

  “Sakal,” Josep whispered weakly, as if the death blow had already been struck. “Beware, Xavier. It was Sakal who paid the assassin who killed me. And he will come for you.”