Revelations in Blood

by Patricia D. Eddy

  His worry tightened a hard knot in her chest. “Recognized you? She’s so young.”

  “There are—were—only twelve members of the Conclave. Would you recognize the President of the United States? The Vice President?”

  “I guess…I would, yes. Even living with my father’s restrictions on the internet. I just didn’t think…this is all new to me. Being careful of…everything. Hiding. I didn’t—” She stopped herself before she could finish that sentence. I didn’t escape the catacombs to live in fear of everything. Yet, here she was. Worried about how much she could eat at a restaurant. Afraid she’d forget to wear her contact lenses. About to have two…bodyguards with her everywhere.

  Nic drained his wine glass, as did she, though she feared she’d need a whole bottle to quiet her mind. “More pizza?” he asked, a hopeful tinge to his voice.

  He’d worry if she didn’t eat, so she finished the remaining thin slice, though she barely tasted it. As they headed back to the car, she clung to his arm, trying desperately not to let him sense her fear.

  5

  The ride back to their home was only marginally easier than the drive to town, and the pizza sat like a stone in her stomach. If she survived the night without throwing up, it’d be a miracle.

  Nic clenched the steering wheel hard enough to whiten his knuckles, and Evangeline rested her hand on his thigh, trying to offer what little comfort she could. Tension rolled off of him in waves, buffeting her already raw nerves until she wanted to beg him to keep driving—despite her hatred of moving vehicles—and take them somewhere the Conclave couldn’t find them.

  Once he’d parked the Audi, he rested his forehead against the steering wheel. “I cannot run, tesoro. I gave Luigi my vow.”

  “I know.” She reached out to stroke his shoulder, but he pulled away and was out of the car and heading into the house before she could protest.

  At the wet bar in the corner of the formal living room, Nic poured himself a generous shot of scotch and tossed it back in a single vicious swallow. The next pour was larger, but after a sip, Nic blew out a tense breath and braced his palms against the bar. “Evangeline.”

  The raw need in the single word shattered her heart into a thousand pieces, and she wrapped her arms around him from behind, resting her cheek against his shoulder. “I don’t give a damn about your vow, Nic. We can still run,” she whispered. “Right now. I don’t need any of this. The house, the clothes, the cars…I just need you.”

  “I do not know why they are doing this. Merda. I am…”

  Scared.

  The single word sang out across their bond, and Evangeline tightened her arms around him, as if holding him close could stop him from leaving.

  “Will I be able to sense you? When you’re gone?” For so many years, she’d felt Nic’s presence. Her father’s experiments had bound them together long before she’d discovered him in his silver cage. After they’d bonded, the feeling had grown, and now…his love warmed her every minute of every day. A constant presence in her heart, reassuring, calming, all-consuming.

  “Over such distance?” He shook his head, his shoulders slumping. “The Conclave prison is deep underground. I do not think…”

  Nic turned and slid his fingers through Evangeline’s hair. “I am lost, cara. I did not think…vaffanculo.” His eyes almost glowed as he searched her gaze. For answers? Reassurance? She couldn’t give him the former.

  “Nic, stop. Whatever happens…we’ll survive. We escaped my father. We’ve been shot, stabbed, almost blown up…and we’re still here. Together. This won’t break us. Or you. You’re so strong. For eighteen years, you lived through hell. Two days, and you’ll be back with me.” Saying the words, seeing his desperation, she almost believed her impassioned speech.

  Before he could respond, the doorbell chimed, and Nic pressed a firm kiss to her lips. “That will be Carlo.”

  Evangeline didn’t want to leave his side—couldn’t if her life depended on it—and followed him. As soon as Nic unlocked the door, Carlo pushed through with two vampires at his heels.

  “We have little time, capo. The Conclave has sent their polizia to bring you in. They are not waiting for you to surrender yourself. They will be here in minutes.”

  “I have almost four hours before the agreed upon time,” Nic growled, tightening his arm around Evangeline’s shoulders. “How can they—”

  “Later, Nicola. I only beat them here because I drive a better car. This is Bayard,” he said, gesturing to the tall, bulky male standing behind him. With short brown hair, deeply cut cheekbones, and a sharp chin, the vampire could have been a model, but his purple eyes reflected nothing but ice. “And this is Sylvie.”

  The tiny, female sported purple spiked hair cut in an angled bob, a nose stud, and an eyebrow ring. The top of her head barely came to Evangeline’s eye line.

  “Oy.” Her thick, British accent and tight smile surprised Evangeline, but the female extended her hand. “Signora Angliatti, I’m your shadow. You don’t go anywhere without me. Bayard’s assigned to your life mate.”

  “Um…call me Evangeline.” Sylvie’s grip was strong, and Evangeline decided she liked Sylvie a hell of a lot more than Bayard, who watched her with an odd look in his eyes.

  Carlo cleared his throat. “I hoped we would have an hour for you to get to know Bayard and Sylvie, but they are supremely qualified. Sylvie served with both MI-5 and MI-6. She is four hundred and sixty-two and is well-versed in all forms of combat. Bayard is only three hundred and six, but the French Foreign Legion is very thorough. And deadly.”

  Nic nodded. “Carlo told you that Evangeline has only been vampire for a few months? That she knows nothing of this world?”

  Though she bristled a little at his words, he wasn’t wrong. Evangeline dropped her gaze, hating that she felt so out of place—even in her own home.

  “Carlo told us that’s her cover story,” Sylvie said.

  “What?” Nic turned to Carlo and grabbed the man by the arms. “You told them she’s human?”

  “Bloody hell,” Sylvie said as Bayard stepped between the two men. “Signore, we’re going to be with the two of you whenever you’re in public. We’re staying on your property. How long did you think you could keep her humanity a secret anyway? They’re good contact lenses, but I’m a brilliant spook. And I don’t give a fuck if she’s human or vampire. You’re paying us. So we’ll protect her.”

  Nic’s chest heaved as he took a single, deep breath, then released Carlo. “You are right. Carlo, please accept my apology. I am in your debt.”

  “There is no need, capo. If we’d had more time, I would have asked your permission. But…” He glanced back out the door. “They are close.”

  Straightening his shoulders, Nic swallowed hard. “Promise me you will do whatever is necessary to ensure her safety while I am gone. You will find answers.”

  “I swear, mio amico. You have my word.” After a slight bow, Carlo turned, his hands clenched into fists at his sides.

  No one had shut the door, and Evangeline’s fear threatened to choke her as two large SUVs rumbled to a halt in the driveway. Nic grabbed her in a desperate embrace and buried his face in her hair.

  “I love you, cara. You are my heart. My life. Please do not watch this. Go upstairs. Now.”

  “No. I won’t leave you.” She tried to force some strength into her words. “This is my world now, remember? All of it. I’d go with you if they’d let me—if you’d let me.”

  With a shuddering breath, Nic crushed his lips to hers. The promise in his kiss, the raw need, and the anguish flowed over their bond, and she slid her fingers into his hair, taking in his scent, the way his muscles moved and coiled against her, and the possessive growl rumbling low in his throat.

  “I love you,” she whispered as they broke off the kiss to stand side by side in front of the open doorway. She laced their fingers, and his grip tightened to the point of pain.

  Four massive vampires dressed all in black
lumbered up the short set of steps to the house. The lead male, who looked to be in his forties with pale brown hair slicked back from his forehead, cleared his throat. “Nicola Angliatti. You are hereby ordered to surrender yourself for interrogation.”

  “I agreed to meet Luigi at the Conclave’s facility tonight at ten. Four hours from now,” Nic said, a commanding edge to his voice.

  Two of the vampires moved so quickly, Evangeline didn’t know what was happening until Nic’s hand was wrenched from hers, and she stumbled, crashing to her knees with a yelp. A third moved to block her, and she cringed and tried to curl away until Sylvie stepped in front of her, fists raised. “If you know what’s good for you, mate, back away.”

  As they slammed Nic into the wall, he roared an oath and struggled to overpower them. “Evangeline!” Twisting and pulling against the guards’ tight hold, he growled, “Vaffanculo! Do not touch her. Luigi swore she would be safe.”

  He managed to free one of his arms, but a third vampire wearing thick gloves snapped silver manacles around his wrists, and he paled and slumped in their hold.

  “Nic!” Evangeline leapt up, darted around Sylvie, and raced over to him, shouldering one of the guards out of the way. Her stomach recoiled at the contact with a male who wasn’t her life mate, but she ignored the sensation as she cupped his cheeks. “I love you,” she whispered and pressed a kiss to his lips.

  “Stay inside,” he begged her as the guards dragged him away. “Please. Do not watch this.”

  She didn’t want to take her eyes off him, but the strength of his plea rocked her, and she turned away, pressing her hand to her mouth so he wouldn’t hear her cry. As the SUV door opened, she heard his voice in her head. “I love you, Evangeline. Whatever happens, you will be protected.”

  She didn’t care about that. Her life mate, the man she loved, the vampire she’d freed from silver chains only two weeks ago, dragged towards the unknown with silver leaching the strength from his limbs once more broke her heart, and she forced herself to bite back her sob. As two of the guards shoved him into the back seat, he swore under his breath, and she ran to the door for one last look at the other half of her soul.

  The guards flanked him, and his amethyst gaze locked onto hers. “Please, Nic,” she whispered, knowing he could still hear her. “Come back to me.”

  The car door shut, blocking her view, and as the SUV sped down the curving drive, she sank down onto the marble steps, the loss of him slicing her into a thousand pieces. Silent tears rolled down her cheeks, and she let herself break, praying she’d eventually be able to put herself back together.

  6

  Nic’s heart pounded as the SUV accelerated down the mountain roads. The darkened windows cut him off from the outside world, and the silver cuffs chafed his wrists. Fear snaked its way around his heart, and he struggled to breathe as his strength ebbed.

  What if he never saw the sky again? Or Evangeline?

  The guards on either side of him had tasers strapped to their belts, and he closed his eyes. Longo had tasered him often—sometimes for fun—and he tried to keep his thoughts focused on Evangeline rather than lose himself in his memories.

  Desperate to ease the strain on his shoulders, he shifted in his seat, and the guards tensed beside him, one of them reaching for his taser. They thought him a criminal. A danger to them.

  “I surrendered willingly,” he said, trying to force patience into his tone. “I will not harm you for following orders. The cuffs are not necessary.”

  The vampire in the front passenger seat cleared his throat, and Nic met his gaze in the rearview mirror. “I am sorry, Signore. We were instructed to keep you restrained.”

  Nic nodded, unable to form a coherent—or calm—response. Evangeline’s love, a constant presence in his heart since before they’d bonded, was fading, and the void left behind sent him into a panic.

  “Evangeline, the distance is too great. I…” He twisted his fingers, barely managing to graze the twin marks at his wrists. His skin tingled and warmed as their bond flared, but that only gave him a small measure of peace. The last glimpse he’d had of her, tears glistened in her eyes, and she’d looked so…alone. So much like the first night she’d found him locked in her father’s lab. Even though she’d not been caged, she’d been every bit as much a prisoner as he’d been.

  Closing his eyes once more, he focused on the mental picture of her on their wedding day. Had that been only yesterday? Her golden brown locks tumbling to her shoulders. Warm amber eyes full of love for him. The emotion in her voice as she’d said her vows.

  He’d live to see her again. There would be pain. Hours of questions while locked in silver. But he’d survive. Despite Carlo’s vague worry about the Lazarus file, Nic had done nothing wrong. The Conclave would release him.

  Evangeline curled around Nic’s pillow, inhaling his scent. She felt so…empty. Like someone had ripped out her heart and burned it. Touching the bonding mark at her neck, she whispered, “Nic. Do you still feel me?”

  Despite her irrational hope that he’d answer her, she knew he couldn’t. If she couldn’t feel him, he probably couldn’t feel her either. Oh God. The bond can’t…break, can it?

  If they were far enough apart… “I would go to France or Spain. The bond would fade. It would be painful, but then you would be free.” His promise to her long before they’d sealed their vows with blood.

  The knock at the door startled her, and she sat up, wiped her cheeks, and tried to stop her hands from shaking. “Y-yes?”

  “Evangeline? May I come in?” Vittoria asked as she cracked the door.

  With a sniffle, she shook her head. “I don’t really feel like company.”

  “I know, my dear. But Nicola would be upset with me if I did not at least try to get you to eat something.” The blond vampire, Nic’s former physician, and the only other woman Evangeline knew in Italy, carried a tray with a steaming plate of chicken picatta and a glass of white wine. “And I would like to talk to you.”

  “I can’t feel Nic anymore.” At that moment, Evangeline didn’t care that she barely knew Vittoria or that she was a mess, her eyes bloodshot, her face splotchy. She needed…a friend.

  As Vittoria set the tray on the bedside table, Evangeline’s tears spilled over again. “The bond won’t break, will it? He’s so far away.”

  Vittoria’s brows furrowed. “The bond is unaffected by distance. Why would you ask me this?”

  “Because I don’t know anything about this life!” Evangeline worried the bedspread between her fingers, trying to find some semblance of control over her emotions. “Before we bonded, Nic said we could stop the process if we put enough distance between us.”

  Vittoria patted her thigh. “That will not work now, my dear. Bonding changes you. Physically. Emotionally. When Nicola is released, you will see. Your relationship will survive this.”

  “How can the Conclave imprison him after all he’s been through?”

  “It is our way,” Vittoria said with a subtle lift of her shoulder. “Nicola knows this. But that will not make his interrogation any less…traumatic.” She took Evangeline’s hand. “There is only one thing you can do for him right now, Evangeline. Take care of yourself. Be strong. He will need you when he returns. In many ways.”

  Evangeline picked up tray and dragged the fork through the buttery noodles. “Is there any way I can talk to him?”

  Vittoria rose and fiddled with the long sleeve of her creamy silk blouse. “Not until they release him.”

  “Step inside,” the guard ordered.

  “You are going to uncuff me, si?” Nic arched a brow as he glared at the male. “The last I knew of the Conclave’s rules, prisoners were not chained inside their cells without due cause.”

  “I have my orders. The cuffs come off once the door is secure. Step inside, back to the door.”

  Suppressing his grumble, Nic angled his body through the narrow cell door. The silver in the bars sent sparks of pain down his arms.
Only lead-lined gloves could protect a vampire from the touch of silver. The clang of the door made him flinch, and he couldn’t hide his reaction.

  “Hands through the bars,” the guard said.

  More pain as he pressed his wrists against the cold metal. A hint of sweat dampened his brow. Rough, gloved hands twisted the cuffs, and then the painful shackles fell away. With a sigh, Nic turned around and rubbed his wrists. Red welts had formed, blood staining his left shirt cuff. “When will the interrogation begin?”

  “Tomorrow morning.”

  “Wait! Why the delay?”

  The guard, already halfway down the long, dimly lit hallway, paused, and a hint of pity colored his words as he replied, “I do not know.”

  The click of the guard’s footsteps faded away, and the silence pressed in on Nic. Alone. Deep underground. He bent with his hands braced on his thighs and forced a few deep breaths. He was safe. Or, at least as safe as one could be locked in a cell, surrounded by steel and silver bars, the walls easily three feet of stone.

  Taking a moment to survey his surroundings, he shook his head. Not much had changed. A small cot lined one of the rough-hewn walls. In the corner, a toilet and sink. A single towel folded precisely.

  Cold air flowed through ductwork high on the ceiling, and Nic shivered. At least this cot had a pillow and a wool blanket.

  Nic removed his shoes and, stretching out under the blanket, crossed his long legs at the ankles and laced his fingers behind his head. He had to rest if he wanted to make it through the interrogation without needing blood. Except…how could he sleep when every time he closed his eyes, he saw Longo’s face. Heard the bastard taunting him. Watched the stronzo hurting Evangeline.