Bloodcraft

by Amalie Howard

  “Are you okay?” Victoria asked, looking up from where she was reading with Leto curled on her lap.

  “I see you found him,” he noted with a glance toward the sleeping feline.

  Victoria nodded, her gaze sliding back to Christian. His face looked strained and worried. “What’s the matter?”

  He raked a tired hand through his hair, tension emanating from every part of him. His eyes met hers. “Four vampires have been murdered.”

  “Murdered?” Every cell in her body froze.

  Christian nodded, his lips thinning. “They’re convening the Council first thing tomorrow morning, an emergency meeting. One of the vampires killed was an overlord, the head of a House. Two others were old and powerful, and the last was a female.”

  Victoria was horrified. “I don’t understand. How? Why?”

  “I don’t know, but what makes it strange is that they were all killed at exactly the same time.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “It means that it was an attack. A carefully planned and well-orchestrated attack,” he replied. “There were no signs of a struggle, none at all. The strange thing is that there were servants in other parts of the house and none of them heard a sound. But the bodies were charred to blackened bones in the space of an hour.”

  “Do you think this has to do with what’s happening between the vampires and the Witch Clans?” she asked. “Or is it because I’m here?”

  Christian’s rejoinder was tired as he absently rubbed the tense muscles in his neck. “I don’t think so. It seems too abstract to be connected.”

  Something troubled Victoria. Something he’d said about the bodies being charred and blackened. “Christian, when vampires die … don’t you disappear? I mean, disintegrate to ashes?” she asked.

  “Not always. The older we are, yes, certainly. But in this case, they were discovered in the same condition as if they’d been attacked by flash fire,” he said, pausing, trying to find the right words to explain. “But it was so precise that there was no blood, no broken bones, nothing out of place, and no damage to the space around them. Their bodies were shriveled and bone-dry as if they had been demolished from inside.” He glanced up as she gasped aloud. “I probably shouldn’t be telling you this.”

  “If it turns out to be connected to me or the Witch Clans, then yes, you should,” she reminded him. “So what are the Council members saying?”

  Christian conceded her point with a grim nod and continued. “There are three theories at this point. One is an attack from another House, other vampires. But it’s not likely. There’d be other marks. The second is an attack from the warlocks trying to assert their position.” Christian kept his expression shuttered as if the last thing he had to say was by far the worst. He cleared his throat. “The third, which is looking to be more and more of a strong possibility, is that the clans have mobilized.”

  “What are you saying? That the witches murdered the vampires?” she asked, unable to keep the sarcasm from threading into her tone.

  Christian shrugged, his face giving away nothing. “Why is that so hard to believe? We’ve committed untold wrongs against them. Take Lucian, for example, in his conquest of Le Sang Noir. He has stopped at nothing to get what he wants. They demanded his head for his crimes and we refused to give in. Or, worse, let’s consider the fact that perhaps someone has found out about us—someone important who wants to make an example of us.”

  The blood drained from her body as she digested what he was saying. “But that’s insane. Why would anyone murder random vampires because of you and me? We aren’t hurting anyone, and hardly anybody knows that I’m here. It doesn’t make sense.”

  “Because of who you are, Victoria,” he said simply. “And because of who I am, too. We are visible now, and the truth is many people do know, witches and vampires alike—Aliya, the Belles Fontaines teachers, Lucian, Lena, the Council. What exists between us is not accepted, and there are many people who will take it to extremes to keep us apart.” He stared at her, his eyes intense. “I don’t have to remind you of what happened with Gabriel.” Having made his point, Victoria nodded. She remembered Gabriel’s response all too well. He’d been furious that she’d chosen to be with a vampire, saying that she had debased herself and disgraced her lineage. His rage had been obscene. She shivered at the memory.

  Christian sighed as he correctly interpreted her expression. “People aren’t as open as you’d expect in the supernatural world. Here, there are worse bigots than in the human world, and they are vicious and deadly.” Christian walked forward and cradled her face in his hands. “This is fine for as long as we are here and protected within these walls, but what if I am away and you are alone?”

  “I can take care of myself,” she said. “They can’t hurt me.”

  “Oh, chérie, but they can, through me.” He held her shoulders, staring into her eyes. He lowered his voice to a near whisper. “Would you die for me?” Victoria’s stomach sank as she realized where he was going. He brushed a thumb over her cheek. “You don’t even have to answer that. I can see it, right here, written all over your face. The thing is what if someone—anyone—uses me to get to you? Can you be strong for who you are? And forget me—us—if you have to?”

  “Why are you saying this?”

  “Because it’s the reality, Tori. War is brewing and there won’t be anything we can do to stop it once it starts.”

  “War?” she said dully.

  “A truce can only hold us in check for so long. Given any chance, either side will grasp the opportunity to dominate the other. These murders are the proof they need.”

  “Who? The Council?”

  “Yes.”

  Victoria knew that getting upset wouldn’t help the cause. Christian’s worry could only mean one thing—the Council already believed that the Witch Clans were at fault and were considering retaliation. And given what Lena and Lucian already knew about her, the Council would use Christian without qualm to secure her loyalty and the power of Le Sang Noir. Or vice versa.

  She understood his fear, but there’d be no question—she’d choose him in a heartbeat over all others, even her own kind. There was no way to explain the depth of what she felt for him, the connection between them. He’d stood by her when she’d been alone, stood up to her when no one else could. He had believed in her when she hadn’t been able to believe in herself. No, Christian had nothing to worry about.

  “Tell me what the Council said,” she said as he poured a glass of cognac. His fingers clenched around the stem of the glass as he considered her request. He wanted to protect her, she knew. But hiding the truth from her was a worse alternative. “Please, Christian. I can handle it, I promise.”

  He scrubbed his free hand through his hair and drained the contents of his glass. “David believes it was an attack coordinated in secret by the Witch Clans. The evidence is too clear. There is no way another vampire could have killed four vampires without leaving some indication of a struggle.” He paused, taking a deep breath. “Same for a human attack. There would be other identifying marks. That leaves only one viable alternative—a magical attack. Only a spell could have caused such a precise result.”

  “What about the warlocks?” Victoria asked, her throat dry. “You said that they’ve been lurking around. Could they have done it?”

  Christian nodded. “I asked the same question. David agreed that it was a possibility, though a slim one. They simply wouldn’t risk a war with the Witch Clans. Tori—” He paused, staring at her as if he had more to say.

  “What is it?”

  “I don’t know how I feel about you spending so much time at the school when we don’t know who’s behind the attacks. I know you can protect yourself, but if anything happens while you’re there, I won’t be able to enter the campus without an escort. And if something were to happen, they’d view me as the enemy. I couldn’t protect you.”

  Despite the panic slinking ar
ound in the pit of her stomach, Victoria took a deep, calming breath. His fear for her safety was evident and if things didn’t get resolved, she knew it would only get worse. She thought through the facts he had presented. “You don’t need to be worried about protecting me. You know more than anyone that I am more than capable of taking care of myself. But I’m certain there’s a logical explanation, so let’s not be rash or hasty to accuse the Witch Clans or to stop me from enrolling at Belles Fontaines.” She was proud that her voice didn’t waver once, but Christian didn’t look convinced at her reasoning.

  “At least here you are safe.”

  “Here I am trapped,” she blurted out and then felt instant regret at the stricken look on his face. “I didn’t mean it the way it came out. I need to learn about my abilities and I can only do that at their school.”

  “It’s too dangerous,” he said stubbornly.

  Victoria rose and stood in front of him. She placed her hands on his shoulders. “That’s not your decision to make. I am not some lost little girl you have to protect. I came to Paris to be with you and to find people like me.”

  “There’s no one like you,” he said softly, his eyes storm-wrought silver. “And your life will be at risk.”

  “But it is my life. I won’t stay cooped up in this place for fear of what could happen. Soporo,” she added under her breath, but knew that the spell would probably not work—Christian, for some reason, was immune to any of her healing magic, much less a simple calming spell. But he seemed to relax after her words, more so from the ministrations of her fingers as she kneaded the tension from his neck and shoulders. Christian sighed, bringing his forehead down to rest lightly against hers as his hands dropped to encircle her waist. They stood there for an eternity in the silence before the ringing of the telephone jarred them apart.

  He stirred, and Victoria tightened her arms about him. “No, don’t get it,” she said. “Just keep holding me and maybe everything ugly will disappear.”

  “It’s Aliya,” he said.

  She frowned. “How do you know?”

  “Caller ID.”

  She dropped her arms and raced toward the phone. She answered and listened intently. The strength drained from her limbs as she grasped the phone with bloodless fingers. Christian was at her side the moment she disconnected the call. She knew he would have overheard the conversation. “Did you hear?”

  He nodded. “Some. I was trying not to, but she said something about an accident?”

  “One of the high priestesses and her familiar have been attacked. The familiar is dead, but the witch is unconscious.”

  “Attacked by whom?” Christian asked.

  “They don’t know. She was insensible when they found her. Aliya said they’re hoping they can find something that can help identify the attacker.” Victoria stared at him, her eyes wide. He touched her wrist and she swallowed convulsively. “Christian, her body was drained of blood.”

  His features were inscrutable as he returned her stare. “Were there any marks?” he said after a few minutes.

  “None, but you said that your saliva has healing properties,” she replied without thinking. “Wait, I didn’t mean—”

  But Christian cut her off with a weary hand. “I see they’ve already jumped to the same conclusion as you have,” he said in a flat tone.

  “Isn’t that the same as you did earlier?” she retorted, responding to the blame in his voice.

  Christian’s lips thinned into a flat line. “Victoria, they have no way of knowing that a vampire was responsible for anything, and unless their seers were indeed able to delve into the witch’s unconscious mind, there is no conclusive evidence that a vampire was guilty of the crime.”

  His hand dropped away from her body and he turned to pick up the discarded glass of cognac he’d been drinking earlier. He refilled it and watched her over its rim, his irritation obvious. She didn’t have to read his mind to know what he was thinking—that she was naïve for believing Aliya without proof.

  “You blamed the witches earlier.”

  “Not exactly,” he said. “You’re twisting my words. We came to an assumption by a process of logical elimination.”

  “And so did they,” she said, resenting the feeling of being backed into a corner by his attitude and his thunderous expression. “Her body was drained of blood. Doesn’t that mean anything to you?”

  “Not necessarily by a vampire. Could have been anything.”

  “Well, we’ll soon find out, won’t we?” she snapped through her teeth at the indifference in his tone.

  They stood staring at each other in combustible silence, until Christian’s mouth twitched and he burst into low laughter. “Come on, you know you find this as ridiculous as I do,” he said. “Here we are dividing the field of battle, sighting off against each other. Witch camp versus vampire camp.”

  “What, you find it amusing that someone was attacked?” she said. “Have you no respect?” Christian crossed the room in two long strides to stand directly in front of her. She held her ground, mutinous, and braced herself for a scathing response, but his voice was gentle.

  “Tori, what’s the real reason you’re firing up at me? I know it’s not because you think a high priestess was attacked by a vampire,” Christian said. “Are you angry because I questioned Aliya’s opinion? Making this some kind of us versus them situation? What’s wrong? Tell me what happened.” She clenched her jaw and studied the floor, fighting the tears already welling behind her eyes. He always could see right through her. “Tell me everything Aliya said,” he repeated, forceful, tipping her chin up. “All of it this time.”

  She looked away, but answered in a monotone whisper. “Aliya said they haven’t made a final decision about me based on the attack. They’re convinced it was a vampire because of the way her body was empty of blood and life and”—she broke off, meeting his eyes—“and they think that because I live with you, a vampire, it will be a threat to their security.” She glanced at his impassive face, trying to read anything from his blank expression. It was like staring at a brick wall. She licked dry lips and pushed ahead since there was more. “I can train with them if I agree to live with Aliya.”

  “And if you stay here with me?”

  She swallowed hard. “Their answer is no.”

  “So it’s worse than I suspected. It’s already begun.”

  “Christian—”

  “So what have you decided to do?” he asked, his voice devoid of inflection. Her heart crumbled at the defeated look in his eyes.

  She cleared her throat, fighting the growing lump there. “I was thinking that the school is so close to Paris anyway, and because Fontainebleau is so far that it would make sense to move closer, at least for a few weeks until things calm down,” she said miserably.

  Victoria didn’t want to hurt Christian, but this was what she had come to Paris for—to find out who she was and learn about others like herself. But his wounded expression made her want to throw herself into his arms and swear that she’d never leave, that that would never be a choice she would make. But she couldn’t. She stepped towards him and touched the face that seemed to be chiseled in granite. His eyes betrayed nothing, but a muscle leapt in his jaw at her touch.

  “They’re not giving me a choice,” she said.

  “You always have a choice.”

  “Can’t you see that I’m not leaving you—this is not an us and them thing. It’s what makes the most sense for right now,” she said, pressing a kiss to his lips. “You have to trust me.”

  “I understand,” he said, but his words were empty, mechanical. Victoria kissed him harder, pressing herself against his uncompromising length and silently pleading with him to understand her reasoning.

  “Kiss me back, Christian,” she whispered against his mouth. He was fighting her, but she needed to show him that she wasn’t leaving him for them. Stung by his passivity, Victoria tried to make him feel something, anything.
She kissed him with all the passion she could muster, with a combination of inexperience and sensuality that normally made him crazy. This time, it didn’t.

  Please, Christian.

  It was her achingly raw plea that fractured the barrier between them. His lips softened and he groaned against her mouth. Crushing her body to his, Christian seized her lips in a hard, possessive kiss that went on and on until she was clinging to him, breathless and shattered. How could she possibly be away from him for so long? They broke apart and she met his eyes. They searched deep, as if trying to see into the most secret parts of her. She flushed from the intensity of it.

  “Do you need to go out?” she whispered, hesitant.

  “No.”

  Surprised, she watched him. Normally after such a passionate exchange, he’d already be shifting, but strangely enough, apart from his rapid breathing, he seemed perfectly composed. It was strange.

  “How come?” she said.

  “I don’t know,” he said in an equally surprised voice. “I felt myself compartmentalizing what you said earlier about leaving, and when you kissed me, all I could think about was resisting you—something I’ve never done.” His words held a note of bewilderment. “The hunger was there. I could feel it twisting in my gut, but somehow it stayed under control.”

  “What does that mean?” She frowned. “I thought you couldn’t control the change?”

  “I don’t know,” he repeated. “A vampire can’t control the hunger once it takes over. It owns us until we satisfy it, and it’s near impossible to suppress once we’re past a certain point. This felt different, as if I wasn’t even hungry in the first place.”

  “Well, I’m glad,” she said softly. “I hate to see you in any kind of pain because of me. And I’m sorry about this, Christian. I really am. But you know how much this means to me, and the only way I can start training is if I live temporarily with Aliya.”