“Nicholas should be here soon.” His voice was unsteady, spooked. Christophe shook his head and offered her a hand up. “Maybe he’ll have some idea as to what’s going on.”
“Maybe.” Morgan leaned against the vanity for support. Not likely though. I would have heard about it if my husband had ever encountered something like this, she thought, while filling a glass with water. No, we’re in uncharted territory here and the sooner I get away from here the better. She swished the water around in her mouth and spat it into the sink.
“Morgan?” Nicholas called from the hallway outside their bedroom.
Damn it. Trying to leave just got more difficult. Morgan filled her mouth with water again. For the first time in their long marriage she wished that her husband wasn’t about to walk into a room.
“We’re in here,” Christophe called out.
Morgan leaned over the sink and spat out the second mouthful of water. When she looked up, her eyes met Nicholas’s in the mirror. He closed the space between them in two long strides and pulled her into his arms. “Don’t ever do that again,” he whispered.
“Not planning to.” She closed her eyes and let her cares slip away, enjoying the moment.
It’s just a moment. You know it can’t last. You know that you can’t survive without whatever that so–called doctor was injecting. You know you’re trapped. You know if you stay, you’re going to drag everyone you care about down with you. You know that it’s foolish to fight. The ghost of Alexander’s voice floated through her mind.
“What’s wrong?” Nicholas asked.
Morgan pulled away from and stepped past him, walking into the bedroom. She took a deep breath and shook her head before turning back to face him. “I can’t stay. I have to go. Alone.”
"What?" Nicholas frowned. He reached out to take her hand. Morgan stepped away and shook her head. "Morgan, please talk to me. We can figure this out."
"I can't." The words caught in her throat as it tightened. The world began swimming in and out of focus. "Please, Nicholas, this is something I have to do on my own." She glanced over to the door where Charles and Marcus hovered, and Christophe leaned against the wall near the bathroom. He saw more than he let on. He saw what was in the tub and is waiting to see if I come clean on my own. Little does he know what that means. That it sealed my fate, I’m bound to that bastard, doctor, as surely as if there was a chain linking me to him for eternity. I just need time to figure out how to leave without having any of them try to follow me. Goddess, they’re my family. How can I risk their lives? I can’t put them all in danger. No matter how much I want to play the damsel in distress, and let them take care of everything.
“At least explain what's going on. You can't just drop a bomb like that, and expect to saunter out of here like nothing's happened.” Nicholas moved between Morgan and the door. “I'm sorry, love, but there's no way you're getting out of here without explaining yourself, as for alone, not happening. You haven't even told us where you've been for the past eight weeks. For all we know you've been off having a lovely time.”
Morgan recoiled, head snapping back as if she'd been slapped, she stared at him for a moment. "It was anything but Nicholai!"
"How do I know that? You won't talk to me," he snapped. Swallowing hard, Nicholas pursed his lips and took a deep breath. "Look, it's obvious you're exhausted. You don't have to talk about it now. I called Lucian, he’s on his way. All of this can wait until he gets here."
"Lucian?" Morgan felt a stabbing pain in her heart at the mention of her Grandsire's name. "You. Called. Lucian." The world tilted, spun, and her knees gave out.
Nicholas had caught her before she hit the floor. His breath hissed between his teeth, and a low growl slipped through. "You're burning up. If you were human, I'd say you have a fever."
"I have to get out of here, now." She pushed herself up, but her legs refused to support her weight.
"You can't even stand. You're going to bed," he insisted, lifting her.
"Can't," she whispered, trying to push out of his arms. Razors ripped through her veins, leaving trails of fire in their wake, eating through them. Morgan screamed, as the flames raced to every cell. She felt like she was standing outside herself, watching, as Nicholas laid her on the bed. He held his hands up in surrender, and backed away, eyes wide. Her muscles contracted, and she rolled onto her side as the pain continued to grow. A tiny part of her mind knew that her time was up, she had gone too long without the formula. This was going to kill her. At least I got to see my family one last time, she thought before darkness took the pain away.
The instant Morgan fell unconscious; Nicholas was back at her side. He touched her cheek before shifting her onto her back. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he took her too–warm hand in his. He closed his eyes, opening himself up to the abilities that every Lead Enforcer possessed. Nicholas sought the spark that every vampire carried within them until they were beyond healing. He heard three distinct masculine voices behind him, but they were distant, unimportant. A tiny, almost forgotten part of him prayed to the long abandoned Gods of his human life for mercy and another chance. No. Not like this. Come on, where are you? You can't leave. Thoughts flew through his mind. He redoubled his efforts, fighting to ignore the distractions until he found it, the spark that kept every vampire walking when they should have died centuries before.
"Assassin!" Marcus's voice was a sharp slap across the face.
"What?" Nicholas turned, feeling every muscle in his body tense, ready for a fight.
"Good fucking question!" Marcus fired back. "What the Hell is going on?"
"You tell me! Who did you give her?" Nicholas stood and crossed to Marcus.
"Like I got the guy’s name?" Marcus didn't back down; he stepped in close, so they were only a few inches apart. "The human's blood was fine, I checked. I don't know what's happening any more than you do," Marcus said, fighting to keep his tone neutral. He’s on edge, who wouldn’t be? Now is not the time to be a smart ass.
"Damn it, where is Lucian?" Nicholas snarled, as he started pacing the room like a caged animal.
"I'll give him a call, see when he expects to arrive," Charles said, before he slipped out of the room.
"Christophe." Nicholas turned to face him. "How was Morgan when you brought her up here? Did anything happen?"
The younger vampire took a deep breath. Having Nicholas look at him like he was accused of breaking one or more of the Edicts was unsettling, to say the least. "She took a bath and… " Christophe paused, shaking his head. "She was weak, complaining of vertigo, and nausea. Just before you got here, she threw up."
"What?" Nicholas and Marcus asked at the same time.
Under the gaze of two elder vampires, Christophe had to fight against the urge to turn and run. I need to stand my ground. If I don’t, they’re going to chase me and I will die. “She threw up. Blood mixed with some sort of black stuff."
Nicholas frowned, shaking his head as he started pacing. "Why didn't you say something about this before?"
"Because I was waiting for Morgan to say something, it was her place, not mine." Christophe shrugged. "I did not expect this."
"I don't think any of us expected this." Nicholas sighed, running a hand through his hair.
"Do any of us have any fucking clue what's going on?" Marcus growled, not bothering to hide his agitation.
"No." Nicholas admitted; he looked at Morgan and his expression darkened.
"I just spoke with Lucian," Charles said, reappearing at the open door.
"What did you tell him?" Nicholas asked, through clenched teeth.
"Just that there's been a development that Morgan isn't doing well. He’s about ten minutes away."
"Good," Nicholas answered, and started pacing.
"Nicholas, you have to calm down. If Lucian sees you this agitated he's going to ask questions you won’t want to answer." Christophe interjected.
Nicholas stared at the younger vampire for a moment, as if he didn
't understand what Christophe was saying. Right, my brilliant idea to hide our marriage. For her safety. Fat lot of good that did. Maybe this wouldn't have happened if we'd been open about our relationship.
"Don't do that." Marcus's voice broke into his thoughts.
"What?"
"You're getting into your head." The Roman general's voice was soothing; he was trying to diffuse the situation, not make things worse. "The best thing you can do right now is try to relax. Having Lucian asking questions isn't going to help."
"You're right. Charles, will you please go wait for Lucian to arrive?"
"Not a problem." He left the room.
"Will you stay with Morgan until Lucian arrives?" Nicholas asked Christophe, though his voice was tight as if he were fighting an internal battle.
"Of course," Christophe replied, though he sounded uncertain.
"Marcus, you and I need to talk." As he turned to face his old friend, Marcus saw that something had changed. Nicholas was putting up his professional façade, hiding his emotions behind walls.
"What do you need boss?"
"I need you, Old Man." The Lead Enforcer’s voice was almost a whisper.
"Name it."
"Let's talk about it before you agree," Nicholas said, draping an arm around Marcus's shoulders and steering him out of the room.
Time seemed to creep by at a pace that made a snail seem downright fast. Charles paced between the sitting room and foyer, checking the clock more often than he should. The phone in his pocket vibrated, he pulled it out. It was a text from the manager at The Dracul that took no more than thirty seconds to answer. After what felt like an eternity, the low chimes of the doorbell rang through the house. Charles smoothed his jacket and took a deep breath. Above him, he heard footsteps as Nicholas and Marcus came out of the office. He pulled the door open and smiled, Lucian stood on the front step, his blue eyes scanning the front yard as though searching for something. It took a few moments before the elder vampire noticed Charles.
“Monsieur DeVaale is it not?” Lucian asked, his voice rich and cultured.
“Oui.” Charles replied in his native French.
“Nicholas requested my presence, something having to do with Morgan?” Lucian seemed curious as he stepped past Charles into the house.
“He did. She is second in line to sit on the Council from our bloodline Great Grandsire.”
“Ahh, you invoke blood ties.” There was a hint of laughter in his voice as he pulled the line of his suit jacket straight. He took a few steps into the house, past Charles.
“Forgive me if I breech protocol. The situation is rather distressing. Please follow me,” Charles replied, and led the way to the third floor. He paused at the top of the grand staircase, listening. Charles felt frustration and anger pulsing through the area, as though the emotions had their own heartbeats. Shifting part of his focus, Charles searched for the source. Lucian? Why am I not surprised? He’s always been content at the Council’s compound. Lucian looked the same as he remembered, the suit that was a few years out of fashion, hair somewhat mussed as though he’d been running his hand through it, he looked more the absent–minded scholar than powerful vampire. Why should he feel comfortable here, in the world among humans?
But how does that explain the anger? A voice that sounded very much like Christophe’s countered in his mind, playing Devil’s advocate. The door to the master bedroom was open, and Charles stepped through, just in front of Lucian. Nicholas, Christophe and Marcus all stood near the bed where Morgan lay. In the time that they'd been waiting, his Blood Brother had laid her out under the blankets. Her arms were over the covers at her sides, and she looked as though she was asleep, but her color was pale and stood out in stark contrast to the dark bedclothes.
“Nicholai, what has happened?” Lucian took off his jacket and shoved it in Marcus’s direction as he crossed to the bed.
“I don’t know. We were talking. Discussing what she remembered and she collapsed,” Nicholas answered, stepping aside so that Lucian could sit beside her. His blue–grey eyes narrowed, as the second oldest living vampire sat on the mattress by Morgan’s side and took her hand in his.
“You didn’t say anything about a fever, Nicholai.” Lucian muttered; his brows pulled together in concentration, fingers rubbing the back of Morgan’s hand in small circles.
“It’s a new development.”
“Leave us!” Lucian ordered, turning away from everyone in the room.
“Lucian,” Nicholas began, fighting to keep his temper in check but the elder cut him off.
“Close the door on your way out.”
“Don’t push it Assassin,” Marcus warned, in an almost inaudible whisper, as he gripped Nicholas’s arm. A chill ran through him when Nicholas turned cold grey eyes on him. Holy shit, this is not good, Marcus thought, as he released Nicholas’s arm. "Come on, we have a big bad vampire to find," Marcus taunted, hoping it would be enough to get Nicholas to leave. The Lead Enforcer stared at him for a moment, as though Marcus had sprouted sparkly pink fairy wings.
“Your mystery Renegade.” He paused and took a deep breath, “Right.” Nicholas gathered his emotions, putting the mask he hid behind, back in place before addressing Morgan’s Grandsire. “Lucian, please let us know if we can be of any assistance.”
“Yes,” Lucian muttered, distracted as he lifted Morgan’s hand, and seemed to feel her wrist for a pulse. “Of course.”
Nicholas took a step toward the elder vampire, lips pulling back from his teeth in a silent snarl. Lucian didn’t seem to notice the Lead Enforcer’s reaction.
“Not the time,” Marcus hissed under his breath, as he latched on to Nicholas’s arm, and steered him out of the room. Charles and Christophe followed a few steps behind.
7 – NEW ORLEANS – SEPTEMBER 26, 2009
CHARLES WALKED THROUGH the house, up to the second floor, his feet following the path he’d gotten to know well over the past ten nights of reading to Morgan. I have no idea whether or not it’s helping her, but I can’t handle sitting around doing nothing. Marcus and Nicholas are searching for the Renegade. Christophe has taken over just about everything involved with running The Dracul from here. Most nights he doesn’t have anything for me to do. He wasn’t focused on the walk; his attention was on the papers in his hands. It was one of the many contracts that, under normal circumstances, Morgan took care of. This guy’s an awesome vintner, and Morgan likes to support other vampire entrepreneurs, but he is a royal pain in my ass already. I’ve got to remember to ask Morgan how she manages him, when she wakes. Pausing in front of Morgan’s sick room, Charles shook his head, hoping to clear it, before he tucked the portfolio with the contract under his arm, and pushed the door open.
Lucian was sitting beside her, the lights in the room were on low and Lucian was leaning over Morgan. Charles thought he saw the flash of something silver in his Great Grandsire’s hand, but the elder moved so fast, Charles couldn’t be certain. Lucian turned to face the younger vampire his eyes wild.
“Has no one taught you manners?” Lucian roared. A dark shadow passed over his face, and his eyes glowed an unearthly blue.
Charles jumped a little, his eyes darted around the room seeking an enemy on instinct. The contract slipped from his hand, and the pages fluttered to the floor. “Forgive me great Grandsire. I was distracted.” Charles shook his head as he felt warmth crawl up his neck. Great, I’m blushing like I did when I was human.
“And that gives you leave to be rude?” Lucian’s scowl froze Charles in place.
“N–n–no, of course not.” Charles stammered, tripping over his own tongue. Oh, great time to lose control over my mouth. What’s going on here? Why is he so pissed that I started to walk into the room?
“Be certain that it does not happen again. I will not be so forgiving a second time,” Lucian ordered before he stormed out. Charles stood for several moments, in shock, before he shook it off and stepped through the door, closing it behind him. Needing a
moment to get his thoughts back in order, Charles picked up the fallen pages of the contract.
“That. Was. Very. Strange,” he muttered under his breath, pronouncing every word with exaggerated care. He crossed to the chair he’d sat in for the past ten nights, and tossed the folder onto the seat. Charles frowned and put his hands on his hips, taking a careful survey of the room. What was that flash of silver? Was I just seeing things? Nothing looks out of place. But I haven’t lived almost five centuries without learning that looks, more often than not, are deceiving. He closed his eyes, and inhaled a long, slow, breath. His heightened sensory receptors took over, and sifted through the information. The mixture of scents floating through his lungs was what he’d expected, except for a sharp metallic note, faint but there, and recent. Okay, so that silver thing wasn’t a figment of my imagination.
“What the?” Charles whispered, to the silent room before he pulled out his cell phone, and sent a text to Christophe to summon him. “Please, let him not be with a woman,” he sighed, and crossed the few feet back to the bed. This is insanity. What am I expecting to find? Charles thought, his brow knitting together as he concentrated. That she’s being drugged? If so, by whom? Why? With what?
“Not many drugs are powerful enough to incapacitate us. Some of the more potent opiates can have an effect on our kind, but it’s nowhere near what it does to a human. The drugs move through our systems too fast.” He recited the lecture that Morgan had given him one night, about a century before. Christophe had been foolish enough to drink from an opium addict. While his best friend had been sleeping it off, Charles had asked Morgan about drugs and how they affected vampires.
“Now, if a vampire drinks from a human who has taken the drugs, that’s a different story,” Morgan’s wry chuckle echoed through Charles’s memory. “The drugs seem to be more potent and their effects last longer,” she’d explained, while wiping Christophe’s brow with a wet cloth.
“So it would stand to reason, that if Morgan had been injected with something, it would have worn off by now, unless the injections are continuing,” Charles mused and knelt beside the bed. “Even if the drugs were in human blood they would have worn off by now.” As an unpleasant thought crossed his mind, Charles ran a hand over his face. “Oh shit, this isn’t good.”
Cast in Blood (Morgan Blackstone Vampires Book 1) Page 6
