Shannon Bailey - [Blackwell 01]

by Forever David's (lit)

  “At the time, of course, I couldn’t believe what he, they, were doing and I was as horrified and repulsed as you are right now,” he said in a way that drew my eyes to his.

  Flushing with shame, I was about to apologize, but he shook his head. “Don’t. I understand. It’s only natural to feel as you do. As I said, I felt the same way at first. But after I Turned, I realized Develyn couldn’t help himself. He was starving and the scent of the blood was just too powerful to resist. . .”

  Swallowing sickly, I dropped my eyes and studied my hands.

  “By the time they finished drinking their fill, I was weakened nearly to the point of unconscious, but I could hear Valaree as she began taunting Develyn. Gleefully pointing out how very lonely his new life would be, now that his wife was dead and there was no chance of Turning her. How he should find himself a new companion. Someone he could trust. And who better than his own brother . . .

  “Needless to say, it didn’t take much convincing to spur Develyn into action. And he, using her stryker, cut open his own wrist and forced his blood down my throat.”

  Feeling my stomach lurch, I squeezed my eyes shut and willed myself not to be sick, but when I heard the clinking of glass, I looked up to see David had poured a shot of whiskey.

  “Please, Miss Perkins, I insist,” he said, offering me the glass.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  The Aftermath

  By that time, a good stiff drink seemed like the perfect answer and I took it, slamming it back like I had seen it done in movies. But of course, I didn’t cough and sputter lightly like the people in those movies did. Mine was an embarrassing, whole body, heaving, gasping coughing fit that seemed to last minutes. And David, with another closed lipped smile, waited patiently for me to catch my breath and take a sip of water before he asked if I was all right.

  My throat and stomach burned and my eyes were watering, but I managed to blink back my tears and choke out, “Yeah, you can keep going.”

  “As you wish. Let’s see, overnight, I became an Unnatural Mortal. The change was frightening to undergo, to say the least. I felt my body temperature drop until I was as cold as a corpse and my heart beat slow until it was undetectable. I could feel myself dying and yet, all my senses were sharpening. My strength and speed, increasing . . . He grabbed his goblet from the table and took a sip and sat it back down with a sigh. “As you can imagine, I was furious with Develyn. So much so, I actually wanted to kill him. And because I could not trust myself to be around him, I left London the next day, excuse me, the next evening, while he remained with that . . . creature.

  “Now, the same day I left the city, Clarissa’s body was discovered by a neighbor and, of course, Develyn became the Yard’s primary suspect. A city- wide manhunt began for him and so he and Valaree fled Britain to Africa.

  “Meanwhile, my journey to William and Camille’s was difficult at best and I’ll admit I barely survived it. I couldn’t bring myself to drink from a human and I could barely feed from the cows I slaughtered along the way, so by the time I reached their estate, I was near starvation. And because of it, I knew I must have looked as ghastly as Develyn had that day I discovered him and Clarissa.

  “That night, I cowered in the shadows, watching Camille her and her family go about their happy lives. I waited until she was alone in her bedchamber before I climbed the tree to her window . . .

  “The look her face when she saw me . . . The fear. The disgust . . .” He shook his head as if to clear away the hurtful memory. “She was upset, understandably so, and despite all her questions, begging and pleading for an explanation, I couldn’t tell her the truth. I had to create a lie to explain my haggard appearance and the pending absence from her life.

  “You see, back then, Opium was the scourge of the day and so I told her I had become dependant on it. That it had overtaken my life and I was going to have to leave the country for treatment.

  “Of course, Camille didn’t want me to go. She begged me to remain with her and her family and promised to nurse me through it, but I refused her.

  Reluctantly, she relented, but not before she gave me a fair sum of money, some of William’s clothing and a basket of food my journey . . .”

  Again, his face had softened when he first spoke her name and then hardened, but this time I didn’t hold back and I asked, “Did you ever go back and see her?”

  He looked away into the darkness. “No. I could not bear to see that look in her eyes again. We did, however, keep in touch through regular correspondence over the next fifty-four years. Right up to the week she passed . . .”

  “But you never went back to see her, at least one last time?” I asked incredulously.

  “No,” he said with a solemn shake of his head. “By the time I accepted, and was comfortable with what I had become, too many years had passed. And while she had grown naturally old, I had barely aged. I believe the shock of seeing me, still looking like a young man, would have been enough to kill her.”

  “Wait. Barely aged? You mean, you can, you age? You actually grow older? ”

  “Yes, but at a much slower rate. By my best estimation, we Unnatural Mortals age only one year for every ten of a Natural.”

  “Really? So, how old are you now?”

  “Well, let’s see. I was just a young man of twenty when I was Turned in the spring of 1892. I’ve existed as an Unnatural for 115 years now, but have only aged approximately eleven and a half years. Which means, I’ve been on this earth for a total of 135 years, but I appear to be only thirty-one, thirty-two years old.”

  “135 years!” I gasped and when I realized I was staring at him open-mouthed, I snapped it closed. “That’s amazing! The things you must’ve seen and done,” I said, completely awestruck.

  David’s lips pressed together firmly. “Yes. I have seen the best and worst man is capable of and have, myself, committed very little of the first and much of the latter.”

  Feeling we were edging dangerously close to an unpleasant subject, I steered us back by asking, “So what happened after you left Camille’s that night?”

  He shifted his posture and glanced away. “Well, I avoided all human contact. And for several months I roamed the countryside, living off the blood of animals I hunted and sleeping in the deepest, darkest parts of the forest. Once I came to grips with the conditions of my infliction, I left Britain behind and came to America. For the first year, Develyn’s and my paths did not cross. I lived in New York and Massachusetts turning that sum of money Camille had given me, into a small fortune through rather risky investments.

  “In 1893 I came to Chicago. And what a year it was for this city. The World’s Fair was being hosted here, and actually, the grounds stood right in this very neighborhood,” he said, sounding genuinely excited for the first time. “The performers, the likes of Scott Joplin, were amazing and the exhibits were really something to behold. Of them all, my favorite was The Great Ferris Wheel. It was the most astounding man-made structure I have ever seen before or since . . .

  “Forgive me, where was I? Oh yes, I was awaiting to board the Wheel when I spotted Develyn exiting the car. He was escorting an attractive young Willing of his and needless to say, ours was an uncomfortable and brief reunion and we went our separate ways.

  “We coexisted here for over a decade before I moved back to New York. Develyn showed up there shortly after and again, we lived in the same city, but did not socialize.

  “In the thirty years we lived there, I spent my time acquiring my law degree and practicing for a short period while Develyn took to performing small roles on Broadway for almost twenty years.”

  “Thirty years without seeing or talking to each other? Wow! So much for Develyn turning you for the sake of your companionship,” I commented carefully.

  His brow furrowed as if my words stung. “Yes, well, my hatred for him still raged,” he muttered and then quickly moved on.

  “In 1939, when the world went to war a second time, I went back to Britain
and served my homeland the only possible way I could. I was a spy for the Allies, and Develyn went to Germany and as I’m sure it is to no surprise to you, became a spy for the Axis. In 1945, I returned to the States and headed for California and Develyn followed right behind. At the end of that year, he invited me to a New Year’s Eve Party. Now, I cannot explain why I accepted his invitation, perhaps I was weary from the war, being at odds with him, or just simply weary. After all, I was nearing the end of what would’ve been my natural life . . . Regardless of the reason, I did accept his invite and the die had been cast, as they say.

  “It was the first of many parties like a Gathering. An event for those of the Order to trade and/or recruit new Willings and Develyn to Turn more victims.

  “That night Develyn chose Gloria Hays. He had used her to get to me, force my hand, if you will, but I did not intervene and he Turned her . . . She was a widow and mother of a young boy . . . ” He paused and went back to studying the flames of the fire.

  In the silence that followed, his words echoed through my mind and I’ll admit his tone of remorse over Gloria Hays and her fate, struck a chord of jealousy in me.

  “And so it began,” he said, looking back at me. “The annual contests between Develyn and me. The Gatherings where I’m given the chance to persuade as many unsuspecting young women to leave before Develyn has a chance to target and Turn them. And this particular game had been ongoing for twenty-four years by the time Robert and Laura Ann came to the house.

  “When I saw her, I knew she would be the type Develyn would choose, and of course, he did and he Turned her right before Robert’s eyes . . . I’ll never forget the look on his face . . . Despite his altered state of mind, Robert was lucid enough to understand that something horrible had happened to his wife and he tried to attack Develyn . . .

  “The day following the party, Robert and Laura Ann came to me for help. She was in a very bad way, craving her first feeding you see . . . I explained everything to them and ultimately, Laura Ann did not want to exist as a Vampire and she, they, decided to end it.”

  Cold realization washed over me and my eyes widened with horror. “Dear God! What are you saying,” I demanded, shooting to my feet. “Robert,” I began, thumbing over my shoulder, “killed her?!” I screeched.

  David jumped to his feet and with his hands splayed imploringly, he said, “Surely you must realize he had to, Miss Perkins.”

  With a frantic shake of my head, I groaned sickly. “No! No, I don’t! And I can’t! How could he have done such a thing to his own wife!?”

  “How could he not?!” he gently fired back, staring down at me. “She would have become one of us. A blood thirsty monster hiding just under the surface of humanity.”

  His words stopped me cold. I didn’t see David as a monster, blood thirsty or otherwise. Everything that I knew of him up to that point indicated he was a good and kind man forced into a horrible existence. A man valiantly struggling to remain true to himself. The self he was before he was Turned. To me, David Blackwell was a sort of dark knight in shining armor who gallantly rescued damsels in distress like me.

  Despite all the vampire movies I’ve seen and the books I’ve read, it hadn’t yet occurred to me that he could read my thoughts and I was startled by his sudden display of vampire ability.

  In a flash, he was standing in front of the fire-place with his back to me, but when he spoke, his voice was loud and clear, almost harsh. “What you saw last night when I Marked you, Miss Perkins, is what lurks just below the surface of my humanity. It is ultimately what I am. And you were afraid of it. Of me.”

  The truth of his words felt like a slap across the face and I felt the sting of tears behind my eyes. “Yes, but I didn’t know what I seeing!” I cried defensively. “Or what you were doing was protecting me. How could I’ve known such a thing?” I muttered, as I weakly lowered myself back onto the sofa.

  I saw his silhouette nod morosely. “That is my point precisely. You were merely reacting naturally to seeing something frightening. Which is exactly what we are, Miss Perkins,” he said, his voice becoming gentle once again. “We are frightening monsters. We crave blood. We need it. We require it to survive. Without it, we turn into hideous creatures. But more importantly, without it, we’ll go mad.”

  Again, I was at a loss and I just shook my head.

  Although David had turned and faced me, he was still just a faceless shadow as he spoke. “I explained this very thing to Robert and Laura Ann that day and they simply could not accept it. Not many can.

  “You see, all of those Develyn has Turned, since me, have been women. And for whatever reason, perhaps it is a woman’s innate gentle nature, most cannot accept the gruesome brutality that their new existence requires. And for over the past sixty years, many have come to me for my counsel. Some accept their fate and decide to live as an Unnatural Mortal, but a good many do not. And those who cannot bring their loved ones to me so that I may advise them and assist them in ending the Unnatural Mortal’s life.”

  “Oh God,” I muttered sickly as I shook my head. “What an agonizing decision to make. What torment those poor people must’ve gone through. Poor Robert and Laura Ann! I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t make a decision like that. To end the life of someone I loved.” A shiver raced down my spine with that horrible thought.

  We both were silent for a moment, each one lost in our own thoughts. And although I’m not sure why I wanted to know, I asked, “How many have there been?”

  “Two dozen or so,” he muttered softly.

  “Dear Lord! That many? Were all of their lives, you know, ended by a true loved one,” I asked, almost choking on the words.

  “Yes,” he began, crossing back to his sofa and sitting again. “Everyone that I’ve assisted anyway.”

  “Then why, in my dreams or visions or whatever they are, did I see some people burst into flames?”

  “Those,” he began with a grave nod of his head, “were the unfortunate ones. Those Unnatural Mortals who had not only embraced their new life, but had gone mad with power and bloodlust and had to be destroyed.”

  “Destroyed? Destroyed by whom,” I asked, although I feared I already knew the answer.

  I could tell he was reluctant to answer and he looked toward the fireplace. “You have to understand, those Unnatural Mortals, in their blood drunken frenzies, killed nearly every person close to them. They killed their husbands, fiancés, lovers, sons, daughters, brothers and sisters. All those that could have been the one to set them free, they had killed. But mostly those Unnatural Mortals had to be destroyed lest their killing sprees drew the attention of the authorities to the rest of us.”

  With an uneven sigh, I said, “I understand, but who did it? Who was it that destroyed them?”

  His brow furrowed before he dropped his eyes. “Come now, Miss Perkins, you don’t honestly believe Develyn would concern himself with such trivial matters,” he said meeting my horrified stare.

  My heart ached for David. How unfair it was for him. To be his brother’s keeper. A keeper of such horrible things.

  “How many of them have you had to destroy?”

  “Just over a dozen,” he replied flatly.

  I’ll admit I was shaken by his answer, but I still believed he wasn’t the monster he thought himself to be. “Have you ever Turned anyone?”

  His brow furrowed even more as he stared at me in shock. “No. Of course not!”

  “That’s what I thought. You see, Develyn is a true monster, not you.”

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  The Order of the Unwilling

  David looked like he wanted to argue with me, but he rose to his feet, took his goblet and excused himself again.

  When he left the room, I flung myself back against the sofa while all that he had told me, ran through my mind.

  It was all so incredible! Extraordinary! A tale of great sadness and unbelievable horror that I couldn’t possibly repeat it to anyone. No one would believe me if I did te
ll it and those who heard it, would definitely think I was crazy. It was a story that would remain a secret with me forever.

  When he returned, he resumed his seat, placed his goblet on the sofa arm and said, “Well, now that I have answered your first question, is there anything else you wish to know?”

  The truth was there was a lot more I wanted to know, especially about him. Even though I wasn’t sure what difference it would make to know them or where it would lead, the bottom line was I just wasn’t ready to leave. And with a nod, I asked, “Is Valaree still alive?”

  “Yes. She lives near the ruins of the castle she and Count Konrad had once shared.”

  “Really! You know where she is?”

  “Yes. She has never bothered going into hiding.”

  “So, no one’s ever tried to, eh, you know?”

  His eyebrows rose and he dipped his chin. “Only once. In 1898, the very same Doctor Geddes who diagnosed her with King George’s Disease, had tried to kill her for Turning his son, but thankfully, he didn’t succeed.”

  I was totally surprised by what he said. “What? You mean, you didn’t want her to be, eh, taken out?”

  “No, of course not.” he was quick to say. “You see, if Dr. Geddes had succeeded, it would have meant immediate condemnation for the rest of us. As I have said, there is only one way to end this cursed existence, and that is by the hand of a loved one.”

  His words sent a shiver racing down my spine and as I hugged my arms about myself, I asked, “So, how many are there of your kind?”

  “Compared to others, we are a small Order. Numbering only two thousand throughout the world.”

  My mind spun. Not only at the thought of two thousand vampires being considered a small Order, but there were others out there. “How many other orders are there?”