Saved By Blood (The By Blood Vampire Series Book 3)

by Samantha Snow

  “What’s the matter, Megan? Don’t you like them? They’re such wonderful drinks, really. You must take a sip.”

  “Must I?”

  “What’s the matter with it then? Really, do you think that I’ve poisoned it or something ridiculous like that? Please, you must know that I don’t want to hurt you. I would never hurt you! You’re my blood.”

  “I don’t even know you. I don’t even know your name. What I do know is that your people kidnapped me and brought me to Paris against my will. That part I’m pretty clear on.”

  “Well, it’s true, we’ve got a lot to talk about. But I wasn’t trying to have you kidnapped, nothing as crude as all of that.”

  “Oh really? Because I don’t remember anybody asking me to come along for whatever ride it was that brought me here.”

  “Would you have come?”

  Both women were quiet and without even realizing it, Megan took a sip of her drink. The woman across from her clapped her little hands in delight and Megan groaned inwardly, aware of the fact that she had just offered the woman a kind of a victory.

  “No, I guess I wouldn’t.”

  “Exactly. Sometimes when you really need to get something done you have to take extreme measures.”

  “Are you going to tell me your name at least?”

  “Celia,” she said warmly. “I’m sorry, I suppose my excitement is getting the better of me. My name is Celia and from what I’ve been told, you’re a very special girl.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “The light. The light you emitted when you were in the cellar. Only a very powerful witch would be able to do that without having any training.”

  “I’m sorry,” Megan replied, almost choking on her drink, “but did you just say witch? Are you trying to tell me that I’m a witch?”

  “Well, of course. How else would you explain what you did? It’s not exactly normal you know. And I’m not just telling you that you’re a witch. I’m telling you that you’re a very powerful witch. More powerful than I could have hoped.”

  “And why were you hoping anything for me? How did you even find out about me?”

  “I’ve known about you since you were born. Your mother, well, there’s no need to get into all of the unpleasantness of the situation, but let’s just say that your mother wasn’t able to live up to her full potential. She couldn’t handle the responsibility of it, couldn’t do the things that needed to be done.

  “When she let you go, we lost track of you. If I had known, Megan, if I had known before you went into the system I would have come and scooped you right up but by the time I got wind of it you were all but gone.

  “I suppose disappearing is a habit you learned well because you’ve managed to keep yourself well hidden.”

  Was that what she had been doing? Hiding? She supposed it was. She hadn’t really thought of it that way until now but she supposed that was exactly what she had been doing. She had been hiding from some unknown enemy and for her, that enemy might as well have been the whole world.

  It was something she definitely wanted to think on further, but for the moment she could only consider one thing. One very strange thing that Celia had said and that stuck out like a sore thumb.

  “Wait a minute. Did you say that you’ve known about me since I was born?”

  “Yes, dear, that’s precisely what I said.”

  “But that’s not possible.”

  “Oh really?” she said with an amused look on her face and one artfully raised eyebrow. “And why not?”

  “Because. You look like you’re pretty much the exact same age as me. You can’t remember things that happened when you were an infant.”

  “Oh, I wasn’t an infant. Not even close. Looks can be deceiving, my dear. I’m far, far older than you might think.”

  Megan’s mind immediately shot back to the room of portraits in Philip’s New Orleans mansion. She could see the painting of him and the woman who looked like her as clearly as if she were actually looking at it still. Even with the face scratched out, she knew what it meant. It was impossible, but that didn’t mean that it wasn’t true.

  “I’ve seen you before.”

  She blurted the words out quickly and without finesse. It was abrupt and she saw that Celia fumbled her glass a little, the first sign of her being thrown off her game in even the minutest of ways.

  It was unlike her and she might even feel bad about it later, but Megan was glad to see her discomfort. She was tired of being the only one in the place who didn’t know what was going on. Let somebody else take that role on, even if it was only for a minute.

  “I’m sorry, dear,” Celia said in a light and airy voice, clearly having recovered from her surprise with expert speed, “but I don’t think you have. Unless you mean when you look in the mirror, that is. Because we really could be twins, don’t you think?”

  “Yes, we could, but that’s not what I’m talking about.”

  “Well, then, I’m afraid you’ll have to explain yourself. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “I saw you in a picture. Or a painting. A portrait I guess you would call it. The face was scratched out but it was definitely you. I would bet everything I have on it. I would bet my life.”

  “Well, nobody’s asking you to do that, I’m sure. But where is it that you think you saw me? Where is this mysterious painting you speak of?”

  “It was in a man’s house. A man named Philip Smith.”

  Megan watched Celia carefully as she spoke and saw the look of mingled horror and fury that passed across her face. She saw her almost drop her beautifully etched champagne flute on the stone floor before managing to right it again. She saw these things but what she really saw was that this was the last possible thing that Celia had expected to hear her say. Clearly, she was far from happy about it.

  “Philip Smith. That’s not possible. He’s, well, he died a long time ago. Quite a long time ago indeed.”

  “You’re right, I guess he did. Apparently, it didn’t take.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “You’re asking me to believe in witches, and that you’ve been alive without aging for God only knows how long. I’m telling you that that isn’t the only thing less than normal going on here. You’ve heard of vampires. That’s what he is.”

  “That can’t be. I-”

  “You what?”

  “Nothing. If you say that’s what he is, then that’s what he is. It doesn’t matter. He has nothing to do with us. Nothing to do with us at all.”

  Us. So they had become an “us” in the span of only the briefest kind of conversation. There were definitely warning bells going off in Megan’s head, she couldn’t deny that. This woman wanted something from her and she wanted it badly. The news of Philip had hit her much harder than she wanted to admit, too, but she didn’t want Megan to see that.

  All of these felt like potential problems to her, but still, she couldn’t get past the idea that Celia might be able to tell her something about who she was. She knew nothing, had never known anything, and now she had been delivered into the lap of somebody who might be able to blow her whole world open.

  It was alluring, dangerously so, and she could feel herself getting sucked in without knowing whether or not it was something she was OK with.

  “Little magpie, now is the time for strength. Be careful, very careful. She is not what she seems. She will offer everything and deliver nothing. Beware, sweet girl. Beware. The dead man is coming. Wait for the dead man to show you the way.”

  The voice came ripping through her brain with the force of a freight train. It hurt worse than the worst migraine and Megan gasped, afraid to breathe because even that small amount of movement would make it feel worse.

  Celia looked at her closely and frowned. She had that pouty look again, impatient with all of the interruptions and with the fact that things weren’t going exactly according to her plan. Her frown deepened and the voice in Megan’s head was sh
ut off abruptly, at which point Celia’s forehead smoothed and she looked at peace once again.

  She leaned towards Megan and took one of her hands again and Megan felt that it was difficult for her to concentrate when the two of them were touching. She didn’t even know if the voice of warning was real but she knew for sure that this woman was, and that she was offering her something that had always been beyond her imagining.

  “Megan, I know that this is a lot to take in, but you need to know how special you are. Our line prophesied the coming of a coven member who would tip the balance scales and that member is you.

  “What you did in my cellar? That was nothing compared to what you’ll be capable of with the proper tutelage. I can give you that. I have everything we need to help you become the thing you were meant to be here in my chateau and it can all be yours. I’m willing to hand it to you, the keys to the castle, so to speak.”

  “Why?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean why? Why would you do something like that? You don’t even know me. Why would you want to give me anything at all?”

  “Oh, Megan, how sad. How sad that you would even need to ask a question like that! Because we’re family, that’s why. I realize you might be skeptical of that coming from the awful range of experiences you’ve had, but it’s the truth.

  “And this chateau, it’s so large. You could move in here and take four bedrooms all for yourself without taking even a third of the rooms the place has to offer. For all of those reasons, Megan, but mostly because it’s what’s meant to be. It’s what’s supposed to happen. It’s our destiny, you and me.”

  Megan’s eyes inexplicably began to fill with tears. She wasn’t the sort of girl to cry and it was beyond embarrassing to do so in front of a woman as elegant and otherworldly as Celia was, but she just couldn’t hold it in.

  Nobody had ever wanted to claim her before, not in her whole life. She had spent year after year being apart from the world around her, feeling like there was something different about her; something wrong.

  Now here was someone offering to give her something to belong to. This might be her only chance for a thing like that. Could she really afford to throw it all away?

  “Do you really believe that? Do you?”

  She couldn’t tell at this point whether the voice was really the voice of somebody else or something she was making up inside of her head. She wasn’t sure that it mattered because the voice’s point was received loud and clear either way.

  For her whole life, she had known that it was the world against her and her against the world but when Philip had come to her rescue, that had ceased to be true. He was many things that weren’t admirable or desirable. He was arrogant and cold (both literally and figuratively) and she had a sneaking suspicion that he would also be brooding and just a little bit high maintenance, but those things didn’t keep her from feeling something for him.

  It was something simple, maybe the simplest thing in the world, but it had taken her being whisked halfway across the world to recognize it. She liked him. It might not have been convenient, it might not have been the one she should choose for herself, but she liked him all the same and somehow she knew that he cared for her, too.

  If she did this thing, if she chose to be taken underneath the wing of Celia and become the witch she envisioned, would she still be able to have him? Something told her that she wouldn’t and she wasn’t sure that was a decision she was willing to make. She felt virtually paralyzed by a decision she had no idea how to make and all the while she could feel Celia’s impatience rumbling beneath her impeccable skin.

  “I must say,” she said in a carefully measured voice, “I’m surprised by your hesitance. What could possibly be stalling you, standing in your way? I would say that it was a lack of belief in yourself but somehow I don’t think that’s it.”

  “I-I don’t know, Celia. I don’t know what to say.”

  And that much, at least, was the truth. She didn’t know what to say. She felt like there wasn’t anything to say. She was caught between the proverbial rock and a hard place.

  “Don’t you? This is about him, isn’t it? This is about Philip. You’ve let him get to you somehow. Tell me, little dear, what exactly were you doing in his home to begin with?”

  “Nothing” she said quickly, feeling her face grow hot with a full blush that certainly contradicted the words coming out of her mouth, “nothing, really.”

  “Ah,” a sage voice that belied the rage beneath, “you two were lovers. For how long? What did he say about me to you?”

  “Nothing, I swear.”

  “I find that difficult to believe. That man. That man has a small mind and a heart for vengeance. He could never understand what it is that I am and why I had to do the things I did. If you choose to listen to his view on things, then I’ll have no choice but to cut you loose.”

  “Wait, what? OK, I can see that you think I know something but I honest to God don’t. It was a one-night thing and yes, I’ve been thinking about him, but he’s a vampire for God’s sake! I didn’t even know they existed a couple of days ago and now I learn that all kinds of things that shouldn’t be real are; that I’m supposed to be one of them. So why don’t you just give me a break, OK? Seriously.”

  Megan stood now, panting in the middle of the beautiful library and still struggling to realize that the Parisian skyline that was the backdrop of all of this was real. Celia cocked her head to one side, looking at her with such an intensity that it was like she was trying to look through her.

  She was looking for the truth, a living lie detector test, and although Megan felt more than a little uncomfortable with it, she knew that she had nothing to hide. She had nothing to hide because she didn’t know anything. She had the least amount of information out of everyone involved in this crackpot situation.

  “You really don’t, do you? You don’t have any idea what happened all of that time ago.”

  “No, Celia. I don’t. I only know that it’s something you still seem pretty upset about.”

  “I’m not upset,” she shot back crisply, “I don’t get upset about emotional things. I only prickled at the idea of him getting between me and my destiny.”

  “And what about me? Does what I want in all of this matter?”

  “Of course it does, dear, but as you just pointed out, you know very little about this situation. It’s my job to teach you, and you can consider this your first lesson. Come. Come here.”

  She motioned with one hand for Megan to join her by the window. It was a gesture of finality, a gesture of complete assurance that would not take no for an answer. She did as she was asked, with many questions and more than a little hesitation swirling inside of her head. She joined her beside the wall of windows and flinched a little when she grabbed her hand, but only a little. It was the only weakness she could afford to show.

  “Look out upon this city. Is it not great? Is it not lovely?”

  “It is,” she said breathlessly, “I’ve never seen anything quite like it.”

  “And it can be yours. All of it.”

  “But how? How is that true just because I’m a witch?”

  “Sweet girl, you mustn’t take me too literally,” Celia laughed sweetly, a sound that was beautiful and somehow still gave Megan a series of little chills., “I don’t mean that they’re going to hand over the key to the city or anything like that. But the real city, the heart of the city, that will belong to you. And before you ask how, it will be because of the things you can do. Things like this.”

  Megan watched, unable to look away, as Celia’s green eyes flashed wildly. Her eyes, Megan said to herself, Celia’s eyes but also hers. Those eyes flashed and the hand that wasn’t holding Megan’s raised into the air above her head.

  Her fingers began to tremble and for a minute Megan was sure that Celia was going to faint dead away but then her fingers snapped shut into a fist that still shook violently. When those fingers closed, the windows be
gan to shake.

  Thunder, great claps of lightning to serve as its date to the witches ball, bellowed through the sky and shook the earth below. It looked to Megan like the world was being ripped apart, split open and all because little Celia Wright had told it to.

  She stood mesmerized and probably would have gone on that way for who knew how long if it hadn’t been for the bolt of lightning that piled into the steeple of a nearby church. The sound of screaming bricks as they loosened themselves from their resting place was what finally woke her up.