Secrets in Blood

by Patricia D. Eddy

  Her tongue flicked over her lips, and she shuddered. Nic pressed his wrist to her mouth.

  “Drink, dammit!” he shouted.

  Evangeline’s lips parted as the hot, coppery blood slid down her throat. Her instincts kicked in, and she took a long, desperate pull on his vein as her tears carved trails through the soot on her face.

  “Good, bellezza. Più, more,” Nic crooned.

  She whimpered in pain as she swallowed but she did not stop. Finally, Nic pulled his wrist from her lips, swiping his tongue over the wound. Now, he had to peel away the burned fabric, and he feared the pain would overwhelm her.

  When he tugged the charred cotton from her lower limbs, Evangeline screamed. The sound came out as a hoarse wail, as if the pain had stolen her awareness. He whispered words of comfort as he pulled off her shirt. He set her boots aside. Naked, her body looked so much worse. The fire had ravaged nearly every part of her left side, leaving behind red blisters, oozing blood, and black soot. The bullet had ripped through her abdomen, exiting through a space between her ribs, but thankfully no bones were broken.

  Her screams tapered off into tired whimpers as the river washed away bits of fabric and pieces of burned skin. He whispered a soft prayer in Italian for his life mate. She would not die. Not today. But in sharing his blood with her, the bond between them had strengthened, and he feared for the day when a drop of his blood would not stop her body from decaying completely.

  18

  The cool water on her naked back soothed her wounds and coaxed her eyes open. A haze of trees haloed the vision hovering over her: a blur of black hair, golden skin, and a flash of amethyst.

  “Nic,” she croaked.

  “I am right here, cara.” His calm voice held her. Gentle caresses turned harsh as Nic sloughed the burned and blackened skin from her body.

  “No, don’t. Stop,” she pleaded.

  “I have to do this, tesoro, to speed your healing. Just breathe. Over soon.”

  She couldn’t catch her breath, panting, praying for the torment to end, whether by death or healing, she didn’t care.

  Numb from the freezing water, she barely noticed when he pulled her from the river and into his lap. Cradling her close, he urged her head against his chest. Pain replaced the comforting embrace of the river and surged through her with a new vigor.

  Soft words in Italian she didn’t recognize centered her. A prayer?

  “Hurts,” Evangeline managed through clenched teeth.

  Nic stroked her cheek. “I know, cara. But stay with me. The pain will pass soon.”

  “Tell me…about your life…before. Distract me.”

  Night crept over them. Nic lifted her unburned hand to his jaw, rubbing her palm softly along his stubble, kissing every finger. “Si, a story. I will tell you a little about when I was made. But you cannot sleep, sweet one. You must stay with me.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “I lived in a small town in Italy—Grumo Nevano. We had perhaps a thousand people in the town. I was very fortunate. My father was wealthy, and I trained as a surgeon. Though my skills were passible, we had nothing in the way of modern antiseptics, no antibiotics. So many who came to me could not be saved. Still, I saved some, I suppose.”

  Evangeline shuddered as a spasm of pain wracked her body. Nic kissed the soft skin of her wrist, nuzzling her fingers, stroking her hair until the pain lessened enough for her to breathe again.

  “I was the only surgeon in our small town, the only one for several towns, in fact. Many would travel days or even a week for my services. I saw perhaps four patients every week. Not many, compared to surgeons now, but for the time…I considered myself quite busy. Broken bones, more serious diseases that we could not diagnose: cancers, diseases of the blood, and even such things as cavities and poor vision. In those days, surgeons even cut hair.”

  “A vampire…surgeon?” Evangeline managed a weak laugh. “So convenient.”

  Nic smiled sadly. “Si, but you are skipping ahead. There is much more to tell before I lost my humanity. You see, I had a wife and child.”

  Evangeline’s heart skipped a beat, but whether from pain or jealousy she couldn’t tell. “Married? How long?”

  “I married young. We all did at that time. I loved her. Courted her in fact. We had six years together.”

  “Tell me…about her.” Evangeline blinked hard, trying to focus, but only a vague glint of amethyst registered in her blurry vision. Starlight spotted the sky behind his head.

  His accent strengthened as he spoke of the past. “She was a plain woman to hear her tell it, but to me, she was a beauty. Carmella. Long, curly black hair, dark brown eyes, and such curves. She was shy and timid, though. Mia moglie took ill at a young age. When I had the benefit of more modern medical knowledge, I came to believe that she suffered from low blood pressure and anemia. But at the time, I only knew that she fainted often and would retreat to her bed for days. Still, we loved each other, and after several miscarriages, she gave me a son.”

  Nic held her closer as he continued. “Alessandro was a strong, willful child. He took after his father, you see. Everyone said he looked just like me. Carmella seemed to rally after his birth. Being a mother agreed with her. So four years later, when she told me Alessandro would have a sibling, I rejoiced. So did Alessandro. He would babble—in the way only a four-year-old can—that he would be the best grande fratello—big brother. He would scarcely leave Carmella’s side.”

  Evangeline shivered in the cold night air. Darkness had fallen, and gooseflesh covered her new skin.

  “Are you cold, cara?”

  “Little bit.”

  “You must always tell me these things.” Nic opened the pack and withdrew a blanket. He wrapped Evangeline in the wool, warming her, but she missed his hands on her skin. He tied the laces of her boots together and slung them over his shoulder. “I am going to carry you now. We will head southwest, away from your father and his men, si?”

  “Si.”

  He smiled as she used his native tongue and settled her against his chest.

  “Keep talking.”

  He kissed the top of her head and set off carefully along the river bed. She worried, knowing the water had to be spilling into his boots, and told him so. “When I am strong, I can regulate my body temperature. Cold does not bother me,” he said. The water sloshed and punctuated his story. “I lost her in summer. A winding and lonely road separated our home from town. Carmella struggled late in her pregnancy and begged me to stop working, but I could not. I was the only surgeon. I felt a duty to the townspeople. We fought. I am ashamed to say that I left her angry that last day.”

  Regret tinged his words. Evangeline’s eyes burned, tears soaking into the soft flannel of his shirt. His sadness seeped into her heart, and she’d give anything to soothe him, but after centuries, would he let her?

  “I found myself at a friend’s home, drinking wine late into the evening. Had I not…” Nic shook his head. “I returned home well past sunset. When I opened the front door, I saw the blood first. So much. Spread out on the tile like this river here. Alessandro’s tiny footprints dotted the room. I called for Carmella, but only silence answered me. To this day I do not know with certainty what happened, but I suspect a disorder of the placenta. I found her just inside the parlor, her hands clutched around her swollen belly, the child in her womb long dead.”

  Evangeline moaned as a fresh spasm rolled through her. Her fingers dug into Nic’s chest. “God…no.”

  “Si. I screamed for my son but heard nothing. Our home was not large, but I had to search all of the rooms. If I had not panicked, perhaps I would have been faster. Alessandro’s tiny fingers left smudges on the front door. He had gone to find his father. Such a brave little boy. But the night back then. No lights. Few stars. Our home sat at the top of a hill with two roads that led into town. My piccolo bambino must have taken the road I did not use, for I never saw him.

  “Vampires were new to Italy in those days. Hi
dden in darkness. We knew nothing of them—only that in our little town and a few towns around us, the old and infirm had been disappearing. Perhaps eight in a few months. The local polizia could not find the culprit. All of the disappearances happened at night. My povero Alessandro never had a chance.”

  “How did you find him?”

  “I followed Alessandro’s footprints out the door. They disappeared after a hundred meters or so. But I took the road I had eschewed on the walk home. I called his name the whole way. Soon, I found myself in the town square. We had a large statue of the Virgin Mary across from the church. At the base of the Madonna, I found them. The woman who sired me had my son’s body in her arms.”

  “Was he…dead?”

  “Si. His blood coated her lips. I did not understand at the time, though, what I saw. Her purple eyes glowed in the moonlight. I’d never seen such eyes. I called my son’s name, and she lifted her head, his blood running down her chin. I scooped Alessandro into my arms and begged him to wake up, but I knew he was gone. I am ashamed to say that I had only one thought in my head. I wanted this woman’s death.”

  Nic turned away from the river and started down the hill.

  “Where are we?”

  “I am taking us a bit south. Your father will likely assume we are headed to Seattle so we must be careful now.” He took his time, pausing here and there to brush his boot over the forest litter to mask his footsteps. “Warmer now?” He touched his lips to Evangeline’s forehead as she nodded.

  “Who was she? Your sire.”

  “To this day, I do not know her name. Nearly white hair, perfect skin, and young. Perhaps twenty to my twenty-five. I did not know at that time that she was closer to one hundred and twenty. I had my hands around her throat, but she merely laughed and batted me aside like a child.” Nic shook his head. “She had me pinned against the statue in seconds. I had never seen anyone move that quickly. Her fangs sank into my neck, and she held me still. She was sated, so she did not drain me, but she wanted me to know that she could cause me great pain. She held me close and whispered in my ear, ‘Your blood is not as sweet as the child’s, but you will do for when I am hungry again.’”

  “Monster,” Evangeline said.

  “Si. I could smell my son’s blood on her. I struggled, but I could not free myself from her cruel embrace. I went mad, cursing her with every foul word I had ever heard, but she laughed. She told me that I would be her willing slave until she was hungry again. I protested, of course, for who would not? But she used the incantesimo on me and compelled me into an alley a short distance away. I remember the stench of the rubbish, the heat of the summer evening, and the fear. She held my body in her spell as I begged her to kill me. I had lost my son, my wife, the child she carried. I had nothing left to live for.”

  Nic eased Evangeline up slightly, and she sighed as she settled against his chest. He threw first one leg, then the other over a fallen tree trunk. Clouds obscured the stars. An old hiking trail worn into the hillside served as their path through the copse.

  “Thirsty,” Evangeline murmured.

  “One moment.” He laid her down and had the canteen pressed to her lips in seconds. She took small sips, licking her swollen lips carefully.

  “What happened…next?”

  “She brought me to her home. I did not know where at the time. Her incantesimo stole much of my awareness. But she bid me to serve her in a lavish bedroom—I remember the bed, the curtains. She stripped me naked and admired my body. I can still feel her hands on me, turning me, stroking, prodding. As she fucked me, she told me of her plan. She wanted a companion. She had been alone for too long, and she liked the look of me. So she would sire me. I did not even know what she meant at the time. I knew she was an abomination, a monster. But no one had ever heard the term vampire. She promised that when I died, I would rise again as her first child. Her willing companion forever.”

  “Not willing.”

  “No.” Nic lifted her again and kept walking. “How is your pain now?”

  “Better.”

  “Buono. I have only brief flashes from my last days as a human, the rest lost to the stupor of the incantesimo. But I have vague memories of a house on a cliff by the sea, far from the town. She wanted me stronger before she made me. She forced me to haul stone from dawn until dusk, feeding me from her own vein to restore my strength. She used me, forced me to fuck her regularly. Her perfect body would have tempted me, but her red lips uttered the most vile words I had ever heard from a woman.

  “She recounted my son’s last moments many times. He called for me. ‘Papa, papa,’ she would say, mimicking his voice. She held out her hand to him, and my bambino was so frightened that he went to her. He cried in her arms. ‘Find my papa,’ my son sobbed, and she patted his head. She told me how good he smelled with my wife’s blood soaked into his clothing. When she pierced his neck, he did not even struggle.”

  “How cruel.” Tears pricked at Evangeline’s eyes, but her vision had cleared enough to see Nic’s stricken face. She wanted to reach up, to offer comfort, but the blanket trapped her.

  “She liked telling me that story as she made me service her. I would curse her viciously with my cock deep inside her. I had no control over my body, but she would often leave me free to speak my mind. She laughed at my helplessness, saying, ‘When I have taken your humanity, you will learn to love me.’ I vowed that would never happen.”

  Nic stopped at a large rock outcropping with a curved, sheer face of granite that offered protection from the elements. “One night after she finished using me, she brought me out under the stars. The memory is so clear, for you must release the incantesimo before you turn a human.”

  As Nic sank down to his knees, his hair brushed her cheek. If only she could touch him. The moan escaped before she could stop herself, and he skimmed her jaw with a gentle finger. “Hush now, sweet one. I am right here. I will not leave you.

  “She held me still. I fought her, tried to claw at her skin, but she overpowered me. Her fangs sunk into my neck and I thought my pain would be over. I would be with my wife and children again in the afterlife. The stars faded as my vision left me, but a vague spark of awareness remained. The first drops of her blood on my lips burned, but I could not scream, I had no strength. I did not want to drink, I knew if I did, I would be cursed forever. But you cannot fight a dying impulse. So I drank from her, directly from her vein. And then the darkness came.”

  “How long did it take?” Here in the quiet of the forest, she kept her voice low.

  Nic kissed her cheek, down her jaw, and rested his lips at the pulse of her neck. His fangs scraped gently along her collarbone as he continued to caress and soothe, probably to ease himself as much as her.

  “Please…tell me the rest,” Evangeline murmured. “How long did your transformation take?”

  He looked torn, as if the memories were too painful, but he could refuse her nothing. Finally, he squeezed his eyes shut and continued. “A few hours, I believe. I woke on the stone under the stars with the barest hint of sunrise on the horizon. She stood over me with an elderly man in her grasp. I scented the man’s fear, but the bloodlust and hunger of a newly turned vampire cannot be ignored. We wake with a strength we have never experienced before and so hungry that many simply go mad and must be killed immediately. But I held onto my sanity. I begged her to kill me. Instead, she pierced the man’s artery. I could not control myself any longer. As he screamed, I drained him dry. She watched with a smile on her face.

  “That was the first and last time I ever drained a human. But when I realized what I had done…when I realized what she made me into, I killed her.” Nic’s voice dropped to barely a whisper.

  Evangeline tried to speak, but another wave of pain hit her. With all her heart, she wanted to turn back towards him, but her body refused her demand. This man—this vampire—had saved her life three times. She couldn’t see him as a killer. She needed to know the rest, and she sensed that he needed to
tell her. He reached out his hand for her, and then let his arm fall inches from her shoulder. She forced strength into her voice. “How?”

  “Do not ask me this, tesoro. Per favore.”

  “Tell me. I need to know.”

  “I cannot refuse you. But know that I would have spared you the burden of this knowledge.” Nic took a deep breath. “She bedded me that night. Held me down, had one of her human servants chain me with silver like a dog. I could not get away. I could barely even move. She wanted me to feel helpless, wanted me to know how very weak I was compared to her. Her touch sickened me. She had killed my child. After I drained the old man, she told me what I had become. What I needed. Blood, regularly, a little or a lot. Silver would bind and weaken me, and flames would kill me as easily as her wrath. I would be strong, but never as strong as she was. Age is what makes our kind nearly invincible. I…a baby, hours old, could never best her. She could compel me with only her words. Not the incantesimo, but something stronger.”

  “Stronger?” Evangeline slipped towards sleep, but she had to know the rest. Nic dug in the pack and withdrew the small lantern. A flick of the switch and a soft glow bathed the night. Shadows braced his eyes. Her heart ached for him. His hands shook slightly as he loosened the blanket.

  With gentle strokes, he caressed her healing skin: her breast, down her abdomen, her hip, her thigh. Patches of pink dotted her left side. The soft, fine hairs on her left arm had been burned away. After one last, needful touch to her hip, he wrapped her up again against the chill of the night.

  “We are compelled to stay with our sires and obey them unless they release us. I tried to run after I drained the old man. But she ordered me to stop, and my body obeyed. As the sun rose, she explained: she owned me, my soul, my body, even my mind. However, she underestimated my passion, my desperate need to be free. By the grace of God or some weakness of hers, I could fight her. I could not spend eternity with the thing that had murdered my son and stolen my humanity. I had to kill her.