Blood of Night

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Blood of Night Page 15

by Leeah Taylor


  Donor: Night, Adrian Oliver (WW)

  Date: January 17, 1720

  Father: Frost, Julian Michael (V)

  Mother: Frost, Dianna Lyn (WW)

  He dragged a hand down his face before leaning over the pages. Shit. What possible reason would Julian have to name one of his sons after the donor? It made no sense to him, and he didn’t like the idea beginning to root in the back of his mind. He went back to the bookcases, pulled out another book, opened it, and found his name. It read the same.

  Name: Frost, Damien Michael

  Donor: Night, Adrian Oliver (WW)

  Date: April 9, 1727

  Father: Frost, Julian Michael (V)

  Mother: Frost, Dianna Lyn (WW)

  He glanced up at the bookcases.

  Shit.

  He pulled a ledger from 1730 off the shelf and set it down on the table, paging through until he found the entry.

  Name: Night Frost, Oliver Julian

  Date: February 3, 1730

  Father: Night, Adrian Oliver (WW)

  Mother: Frost, Dianna Lyn (WW)

  Spouse: Frost, Julian Michael (V)

  “Oh, God.”

  Ollie’s going to be ridiculous about this.

  He swiped his phone from the table and called Lucien. Ollie’s name was a jab at Adrian. Rubbing salt in the wound. No wonder Adrian was indifferent with us.

  †††

  “What took so long?” he asked because it took his brothers off a half an hour to get down there.

  “Had to get Riley and Jules settled at the house,” Lucien said.

  Damien clenched his jaw. He didn’t want to stay at the bar. He wanted to stay at the house and keep her safe. Fucked that up. He shook his head and shoved the 1730 ledger across the table at them. Ollie leaned over the book and scanned the page. The muscles tensed in his arms as his hands balled into fists.

  “Our mother had an affair with Adrian.” His jaw ticked as he slid the book over to Lucien. “So, she died because of me.”

  Shit. I knew it.

  Lucien scowled. “Stop it.”

  “Julian killed her.” Ollie shrugged. “For falling in love with Adrian. An arrangement was no longer just an arrangement. It became more, and I a result of it. She died because of me.”

  Damien rolled his eyes. Such an Ollie thing to do. It wasn’t okay.

  “She died because Julian was a fucking bastard,” Damien said. “Don’t you ever fucking say Mom died because of you. Just get that shit out of your head right now.”

  Ollie crossed his arms over his chest. “Sure, soon as you get it out of your head that love fucking killed her, and we can all move on happily ever after watching you run into the sunset with Jules.”

  Damien balled his hands to keep from hitting him. For being a smug little shit about it.

  Lucien groaned. “So,” he drew out the word. “Then Julian punished Adrian by raising you as his own and turning you.” He dragged a hand down his face. “God, Ollie is the son Adrian wanted.”

  Damien nodded. “And Ramsey is the son he got.”

  “Yeah, and we have a whole new problem on our hands if he figures out the fix to that spell,” Ollie said.

  “Ann Marie’s goal was to make Juliette’s bite lethal to vampires, but she failed,” Lucien said.

  “Hell, we could be looking at a massacre,” Ollie said.

  A memory, vivid and clear, wiggled its way into Damien’s mind. A secret they kept but couldn’t keep anymore. If Ramsey knew, and Damien was sure he would, he’d use it against them to get to Juliette.

  “We have to tell Jules about what happened in the catacombs before Ramsey does,” Damien said.

  Lucien disagreed. “Who’s to say he even knows what happened?”

  “You want to go on a maybe that Adrian didn’t tell him about that night?” he countered.

  “He’ll use it to drive the wedge deeper. Which I think you two have done a good enough job on alone,” Ollie said.

  Damien could see it as if he were reliving it all over again. The first time he saw her and knew, without a second thought, he would do everything in his power to protect her, and yet he’d failed time and again at protecting her from himself.

  †††

  “We don’t belong here, Lucien. Let the witches deal with Ann Marie.”

  Damien hated it there. Val Valena was for the witches and the dead.

  “Ann Marie is out of control. Too many whispers about this spell she’s gone well mad over,” Lucien insisted, moving just ahead of Damien towards the Mausoleum. “Last thing we need is her becoming a threat.”

  The shadows cast by the headstones came to life. Moving with the wind. Controlled by the moon.

  “Ann Marie Marquis? A threat? Hardly. At best, she’s a neutral.”

  The woman had become a bit looney in the last few years but nothing that posed a threat. If she was working on a spell, it was probably to find a way to get her husband to come back.

  “A neutral with a hybrid daughter or have you forgotten that?”

  Damien knew about the hybrid girl. Half witch, half werewolf. As far as he had been told, she wasn’t a threat. Ann Marie barely let her out of her sight to be any trouble. He’d never even seen the girl.

  “She’s what, now? Sixteen or seventeen. I doubt she’s any more a threat than her mother,” Damien said.

  He followed his brother into the mausoleum. It was even less welcoming with the cold creeping up from the catacombs beneath.

  Lucien stepped down on the first step. “Nineteen and nobody is a threat until they are. I just want to find out what she’s up to.”

  Light flickered off the stone walls from the candlelight. Damien wanted to be anywhere but there.

  Heated voices echoed down the corridor. “We had an agreement, Ann Marie. I want my spell. You promised me.”

  Lucien glanced back. “Is that Adrian?”

  Damien nodded.

  “Juliette, I’ll fix it,” Ann Marie said. “Adrian, I told you it might not be perfect.”

  “Six fucking years, Annie. Six! I’d expect it be flawless. What if this had been—”

  “Adrian, I can fix it.”

  “Get your daughter under control, or I’ll kill her myself,” Adrian roared.

  Snarling ripped through the catacombs followed by a scream echoing off the stone walls. Damien and Lucien sprinted down the corridor and into the great room. Sweltering heat prickled over his skin. He blew out a breath, the magic hanging in the air falling over him like a hot blanket, suffocating him.

  What the hell had she done?

  Damien stilled, a sudden awareness of eyes on him slithering up his spine. A predator studying its prey and he hadn’t been the prey in decades.

  He locked onto Lucien where he had stopped just in front of him, eyes wide, taking in whatever predator had the power in the room.

  “Easy, Damien,” Lucien warned.

  He turned slowly and stopped on a cacophony of brilliant gleaming purples. Beautiful big eyes were trained on him with intimate intensity. The hand around her mother’s throat, holding her against the wall, twitched with the flicker of her eyes.

  This is so bad.

  “Ann Marie?” Lucien inched closer, the girl’s eyes twitching in his direction, and he froze with his hands up in front of him. “Easy, Darling.”

  “She created a monster,” Adrian spit out.

  Damien glared at the cowering alpha behind him, pressed against the wall near the door.

  “You aren’t helping,” he gritted out. “Ann Marie, what happened?”

  He spoke to her mother but never took his focus from the girl. Sweat trickled over her brow. A wince feigned in her expression before she shook it off.

  “I-I-I made a mistake. The spell. Oh, baby.” Ann Marie gazed up at her daughter in wonderment and apology. She had to know she only had minutes left. “Oh, butterfly, I’m so sorry.”

 
Juliette twitched, shifting her attention back to her mother. He marveled at the blazing orbs trained on Ann Marie. Damien was mesmerized by it. By her. She had an intensity that oozed fear. Her rapid pulse roared between his ears. He moved closer with an idea what her mother had done. All the trademarks were there. The question was, why?

  “Damien, don’t,” Lucien growled.

  He waved his brother off. “Juliette?”

  She cocked her head to the side, and he finally got a good look at her. Fangs bared, dripping with a need to satiate the burning thirst wrecking her inside, but it was those eyes. He got a better look at them, and flecks of turquoise shone through the purples. Like a rare and unique galaxy. He wanted to explore and get lost in it.

  He gulped and swallowed up the space between them until there was only a couple of feet separating him from the feral hybrid. She never stopped watching him, twitching and trembling.

  “Come now, Luv, it’s only the thirst.” He reached for her, holding her stare. “We can take care of that easy enough.”

  He’d survived Lucien’s turn, and he was just a kid. His own turn and it was ugly. And Oliver’s, which was ugliest of all of them. But he’d survived them. She wouldn’t be different. He could help her. Protect her.

  “What do you say, Luv?” He offered his hand to her. She stared at it, unmoving. He was close enough to grab her, but somehow, he knew that’d end badly. For him. “We’ll go sate that thirst together, hmm?”

  He inched closer, fingers grazing her wrist. Juliette caught his hand, narrowed her stare, and bit his wrist before he realized what she was doing. He cursed. The familiar sting seeped into the muscle. She let go, purple whips of power wrapped around her fingers, and with a subtle shove of her hand a force knocked him off his feet. He jumped up just as her fangs ripped into the flesh of her mother's throat. Blood sprayed and tainted the air.

  “Fuck.”

  Damien swooped across the room behind her, reached up, and snapped her neck. She collapsed against him, and he pulled her close. Ann Marie’s body crumpled to the dirt floor. Guess Corinne Greaves is up for Regent now.

  “Are you mad?” Lucien growled.

  “Just a little vampire bite, Lucien. I’m okay by the way. Thanks.”

  “She could have killed you.”

  Damien looked down at the girl cradled against his chest. “No, I don’t think so.”

  “Oh, did you miss the part where she ripped her mother's throat out?”

  He pushed strands of brown hair out of her face to take her in. There was a small wince in her features.

  “Nope, I was right here.”

  So beautiful. So perfect. So broken. The witches would turn their back on her. They already whispered about her and the abomination she was. Now? She was a vampire too, and they’d probably try to kill her. A wash of territorial protectiveness came over him. I won’t let them.

  “I’ll take it from here,” Adrian ordered like he had any right.

  Red crept into Damien’s vision. He laid Juliette on the ground and was across the room in a blink with the man slammed into the wall. The air whooshed from the man with a grunt.

  “And how exactly are you taking her?”

  “It’s none of your concern. Annie—”

  Damien chuckled. “Annie? That’s cute. Just how close were you with the Regent?”

  Adrian visibly swallowed. Obviously closer than he was willing to admit to. Figured. The man was a whore.

  “How could you let her do that to her daughter? A girl?”

  “She’s a grown woman.”

  “Barely,” Damien growled. “Her own daughter, Adrian. What was she doing for you that was worth risking her life?”

  Adrian swallowed. “Look, son—"

  “I am not your son. What was she doing for you?”

  The man eyed the grimoire laying across the altar, and Damien shoved off him.

  “Lucien, take the book.”

  “You can’t do that,” Adrian barked. “Her grimoire must be buried with her.”

  Lucien closed the book. “No, I don’t think so.”

  Damien ignored them and went back to Juliette. He picked her up, cradling her in his arms. Nothing and nobody would ever come for her. He’d put his life down for her before he ever let anything happen to her. She deserved and would have the love, loyalty, and devotion of family.

  “Leave, Adrian, or you’ll die down here tonight as well,” he said.

  Damien expected more fight from the supposed prolific Alpha, but Adrian left grumbling under his breath any disapproval he had.

  “We’ll take her and the book to the Elder witch—”

  Over my dead body.”

  “No.”

  “What do you mean, no?” Lucien asked. “The book and the girl go back to the witches.”

  He stopped at the entrance. “The book goes in the vault, and she comes home.”

  “Home?”

  “Yes, Lucien, she comes home with us. She’s going to need a family, and we’re going to give it to her.”

  †††

  “The truth will gut her,” Lucien said, pulling him back into reality.

  He nodded. “I’ll tell her.” Damien started putting the ledgers back on the shelves. “She already hates me. Might as well give her one more reason. Then Ollie can put her back together.”

  Juliette | 22

  “Okay, so, do I even want to know what you and Mr. Good Looking in a Suit did after I left?” Riley puckered her lips and applied a racy shade of red to them.

  “We just talked. A heart to heart where I fret over stuff and he sets me straight with logic.”

  Her guilt over Rebecca was very much alive, and no amount of Lucien logic talk was going to make it go away.

  Riley giggled. “He seems like the kind that’s all about logic.”

  “You have no idea.”

  “So, are we really going out for one of your together with other people not each other kinda nights?”

  Riley looked almost horrified. Like hoping it was all some sort of big joke they were playing on her.

  “That’s the idea, but we’ll see.” Juliette swiped the lip gloss from the bathroom counter. “I have my own theories.”

  “Oh?”

  “Tonight will be all you and Ollie.” She shook the lip gloss at Riley. “And trust me when I say that man will only have eyes and hands on you tonight.”

  “He’s capable of that?”

  Juliette nodded. “Yep. He may seem like the type to be a player, but believe me, when Ollie sets his eyes on someone, it's about them. He’s not a cheater. He’s not a roamer. And Riley,” she warned, leveling a stare at her best friend, “he has eyes on you and only you.”

  Hope flickered in Riley’s eyes, and she bit down on her bottom lip. I’m so screwed when these two get together. There will be no living with them.

  He came across one way, but Ollie was loyal to the core when it mattered. When his heart said so. Ollie’s heart was calling the shots and maybe his dick.

  And Juliette couldn’t be happier.

  Ollie appeared behind them in the reflection of the mirror. “My two gorgeous ladies ready?”

  Riley crossed her arms. “Your gorgeous lady?”

  “Adorable little kitty cat? That better?” Ollie’s smile stretched from ear to ear.

  Juliette chanced a look at Riley in the mirror, surprised she even entertained Ollie’s harmless taunting. She certainly didn’t let Juliette get away with it. Riley’s eyes dilated and morphed into piercing cat eyes.

  “Easy, Ollie, she might pounce,” Juliette giggled.

  He half-shrugged. “I usually prefer foreplay first, but hey, I’m down for anything. Haven’t tried kitten play yet.”

  Riley’s cheek went pink, eyes shifting back. “Oh my god, Jules, make him stop!”

  “I warned you.” Juliette smirked. “He’s charming, funny, and the sweetest guy you’ll ever meet. Ca
n’t really resist him. Or stop him.”

  Ollie smiled sweetly and winked at Juliette. “Well, come on, ladies, the night is ours.”

  Juleps was, as always, teeming with life. Packed to capacity. Juliette couldn’t remember a time that the bar didn’t bring in a crowd. The music resonated through the crowds, enticing and entrancing the masses on the dance floor. Ollie and Riley with it just as Juliette knew would happen.

  He looked happy. Totally consumed by Riley and the way her body moved with his. Dodging advances from his frequent flyers, he had eyes only on her. Ignoring them altogether to ensure Riley got every ounce of his attention.

  Juliette stuck close to the bar, but the urge to get behind it and start taking drink orders grew the longer she sat there. She eyed the hot pink-haired petite girl behind the bar, whipping drinks out as fast as the orders came in. Ivy was damn good at what she did. Ollie made sure of it. He had a knack for creating little prodigies behind his bar.

  “Buy you a drink,” someone offered, the voice dripping in lustful suggestion. As if offering to buy her a drink was a way to get into her pants.

  Juliette rolled her eyes, barely giving the guy her full attention, and held up her mint Julep. “All good.”

  He moved into her vision. The sickly cheap chemical smell assaulted her nostrils and made her eyes burn. God, did he bathe in it? He was a mid-twenties nobody way out of his league. His hand touched her arm, and she sighed.

  She looked him up and down until settling her stare where his hand touched her arm. He wore jeans and a white t-shirt that hung loosely on him. Why do I always get the losers?

  “Come on, let me buy you a drink,” he insisted.

  She moved her arm out of his reach. “No, thank you.”

  He shifted closer, boxing her in with his arm laying across the back of her stool and the other in front of her on the bar top. “I said, I’m going to buy you a drink.”

  Juliette clicked her tongue. “And I said I’d rip your arms from your body if you don’t back off, but I was polite about it.” She smiled then took a sip from her glass. “Yeah?”

  His eyes lit up as if accepting some challenge. “I like feisty.”

  The man’s face flew forward into the bar top, his nose cracking against the hard surface, and blood poured out. A chorus of oohs and ahhs rippled through the crowd around the bar. She didn’t have to look to know whose hand was buried in the back of the man's blonde head, pressing it against the bar. She settled back in the stool with a satisfied smirk and lifted her drink up.

 

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