Written in Blood: A New Adult Vampire Romance Novella, Part Two. (The Unnatural Brethren Book 1)

by Silvana G Sánchez

  The door locked behind us. Blessed darkness sifted in our midst. Her panting breath warmed my skin. In this nearness, I kissed her lips.

  Patience eluded me. Her heaving chest and quiet moans did nothing but arouse my fervent desire. Hungry for more than sultry kisses, my hands closed around her waist while hers glided down my neck and pulled away my coat. Throbbing, pulsing in every vein and artery, the pressing need to invade her consumed me.

  My coat hit the floor. I sunk my face on her bare shoulder, lost to the world as her lips grazed my neck up to my earlobe. Pressing my hand hard against the wall, the damask broke beneath my fingernails. I moaned. What point was there in resisting the inevitable?

  “Ivan Lockhart,” she purred in my ear, “you are a quick learner.”

  “You... have no idea, chérie.” My grip closed around her waist and I carried her to the bed.

  Delighted by my impulse, Juliette laughed. “Do not tease me, please! Marthe might hear us.”

  Time stopped as I lay on top of her, capturing the smooth traces of her beautiful countenance. As fair as porcelain, her cheeks blushed in sudden waves of burning desire. The gaze of her large green eyes contemplated me with pupils wide enough for me to lose my senses. Her rosebud lips reddened after my many kisses.

  “Marthe—the parlor maid?” I whispered, charmed by her quiet distress.

  “Yes, the parlor maid!” Endearing that the service should cause her concern.

  “But who cares what she hears…” I gently licked her earlobe, “...or thinks,” my lips landed on her brow, “...or sees?” Another kiss, on both eyelids.

  She cupped the side of my face with her hand. Her sensuous lips curled in a smile. “Silence is a virtue,” she whispered.

  “Is it?” a mischievous gaze. “Then I might make you scream after all.” My lips pressed against hers, stealing her kiss; but this time, I held back on the drive of my desire, beckoning for more as I removed her gown.

  A hunger of her own awakened as she ripped away my shirt. Her wandering hands explored my bare chest, yet she shuddered when I took off her stays.

  The quick pace of her beating heart echoed in my ears and for one aching moment, I yearned for the taste of her blood. The mere thought of pairing the satisfaction of my body's need with that of my vampiric demands drove me to the brim of madness.

  In one promising moment of delirium, I widened my mouth enough for my fangs to loom beneath my lips. And though bemused beyond reason by my compelling bloodlust, I steered away from it as fast as I could.

  Her anxious hands reached for my breeches and forced them away... Was this her first time with a man? I dismissed the thought from my mind. Nothing mattered to me more than her nearness. With each breath, I relished in this moment as I unleashed my pressing desires.

  6

  The Happiest Man on Earth

  Hours passed.

  My eyes opened to find her lying by my side, her delicate arm clasped around my chest. She slept a peaceful dream.

  Sleep is a most vulnerable state. I could have ended her life right then—but of course, I never would have dared. Juliette was too precious to me. Her company mattered more to me than seeking my accursed thirst's satisfaction. I could not understand it. Much to my surprise, last evening, I had fought off the pulsing need for her vital liquid. And even when immersed in the pleasure of lying with her had fulfilled my body's every whim, I felt incomplete. But somehow, I was willing to let that pass... at least for now.

  A faint sense of alarm brewed within my core, and with it came an uneasy feeling reminding me that I served a long-forgotten purpose. For a minute, as I lay there, I forgot what it was.

  Soft waves of red hair masked her heavenly countenance.

  However mystifying was the force that lured me towards her from the beginning, it had at long last achieved its end. My tainted heart reached out to hers. Enclosed within her dark embrace, I found a grand sense of freedom and much-needed release from my sins. In her presence, I carried no secrets. Juliette knew all that I was, and in spite of it, she wanted me.

  “No masks…” I whispered. And in that moment, the thought bloomed in my preternatural mind.

  After slipping into my breeches, I moved away from the bed without making a sound and went to the writing desk. The bedroom's heavy drapes came as a blessing since we had slept the entire morning and part of the afternoon.

  I picked up the parchment and prepared to write a letter home. In it, I wanted to say that I lived—or something like it. And that perhaps my staying in Paris for a while would suit everyone's interests, including hers.

  My heart stopped at the thought of Alisa.

  How was it that pain could derive out of something as precious as our affection? My love hurt her more than I cared to admit and it had already caused me damage enough.

  I had lost her long before I ever knew. The impossibility of our circumstances was dead-set against us from the start, but that was not all. If she discovered the monster I had become, I would be shunned from her heart. Either way, all shred of hope was lost to me forever.

  But by writing this letter, I could at least bear in mind that for once, I had done what was right. And it did help to know of Juliette's comforting warmth as solace from my sins.

  There was no quill in sight. I pulled the drawer and opened it halfway. It was stuck. Something hindered its sliding mechanism. Through the small opening, I caught a glimpse of the quill. Forcing my hand through, I reached inside and found the obstruction.

  After a few attempts, I seized the piece of paper and placed it on the desk with haste, reaching inside the drawer once again until I took hold of the damned quill. But then, the paper caught my eye. It was a letter.

  What my eyes beheld in that instant paralyzed me and vaporized any other thought in my mind.

  April 20th, 1672. Three weeks before my arrival in Paris.

  “Dearest friend,

  It pleases me to tell you our voyage from Calais to Dover went without further complications and we have now reached the city of London.

  How odd it seems to me to return home after all these years living on divine Parisian soil... But I find that, being in such prodigious company, I cannot quite complain.

  Much in your likeness, Alisa embodies what every young female ought to be. She excels in her womanly virtues in music, dance, and drawing. And at the same time, I have discovered in her the brewing of a wonderful mind, hungry for knowledge, with much yet to live and discover in the world.

  You will be happy to know we have set a date for our wedding. And even though nothing would rejoice me more than having you with me on such a precious day, I fear the date might be pushed forward due to her mother's poor health. I believe she will leave this world soon, and Alisa will need every ounce of happiness to withstand such a terrible loss.

  I am certain you understand and will hold no grudge against us for this.

  We leave for Bristol today and shall stay at Alisa's home in Winterbourne for a little while until we marry.

  And in regards to your letters, the answer I fear is not a pleasing one. We have no news of what became of Lockhart and have not seen him since the day of the Venetian Grand Ball.

  As always, he is in my prayers, and I hope we hear of him again soon.

  Write to me, dearest Juliette.

  From your friend, the happiest man on Earth,

  William Pritchard.”

  Wrinkled by the fury of my crushing fist, the letter fell from my hand onto the desk once more.

  Alisa's marriage, Mother's poor health... the words encircled my brain to the point of dizziness. This letter was three weeks old; could I aspire to any hope of finding her alive?

  I placed both hands on the desk and steadied myself as my head sunk between my shoulders, struggling to breathe.

  “What is it?” Juliette said, awakened by my fury.

  Without turning back, I spoke. “This letter has been in your possession for at least a week.”

  �
��Ivan, I can explain—” She slipped into her silk robe.

  “You knew. All this time... you knew of their engagement, you knew of my mother's illness and yet, you chose to conceal these matters from me.”

  She moved closer. “I was going to tell you—”

  “When?” I said. “When they were married and my mother's corpse rotted in her grave?”

  “Yes.”

  Her answer astonished me. And still, I could not tell whether she spoke the truth or if this was yet another lie bursting from her wounded pride, merely intended to hurt mine.

  “I strongly advise you consider your words, Juliette,” I whispered in a threatening voice, “for they may be your last.”

  Like a serpent, she slid her poisonous hand behind my neck and her large green eyes locked their hypnotizing gaze in mine. “Darkness streams from you unlike any other creature I have ever known,” she mused. “There are forces in you, terrible and devastating forces, capable of unleashing hell itself onto those who would dare oppose your whims.

  “But however lethal your touch might be, I find myself drawn to you more than I care to say.” Her soft fingers glided through my hair. “How is it that within such soundless shades of obscurity I see beauty?”

  Her velvety voice enveloped my senses. For a moment, I wanted to dismiss everything, take her in my arms and claim her soothing kisses... But the damage had been done, and it reached unforgivable lengths. And although I hated to confront the evil of her schemes, the words had to be said. “Why would you keep this from me?” I muttered, on the verge of losing all patience.

  “Why is it, do you think, that your heart spoke to mine?” she whispered. “Perhaps our souls share the same shadows...”

  “Enough games, Juliette!” In one quick move, I seized her neck with my bare hand and pressed her back against the wall. My fingers sank enough to cause her warning, yet to my surprise, she held my stare with much defiance.

  Every gesture admitted to her guilt. But worse of all was that far from showing any signs of remorse, she embraced the damage of her crime with satisfaction.

  “I will not ask this again. Why did you do it?!” Pain, fury, the need for revenge… mixed emotions flooded my chest. But it was her betrayal what hurt me the most.

  Juliette's challenging expression then faded along with the blood from her face. And for once, I caught a glimpse of the woman I knew, young and vulnerable, now desperate as she witnessed her illusions vanishing as soon as sunset.

  “I did it... because I love you.”

  I looked away from her and smirked. Love? How dare she appoint it with such wickedness? “You fiend,” I mused, an inch away from her lips.

  “That is what we are, my love.”

  Appalled by her choice of words, I withdrew my hand and stepped back.

  “Was it all a lie?” I said. “Was it Magic that lured me to your arms, a spell of some sort?”

  Juliette folded her delicate arms over her waist and fixed her shimmering eyes upon mine. “No,” she whispered on the verge of tears. “It was not.”

  “I must leave at once,” I said.

  “Take the carriage to Calais—”

  “No! I want nothing more from you.”

  Juliette pursed her lips as she held back her tears. The sight of her suffering stirred whatever remnants my heart held of compassion. And even though learning the truth of her deception had wounded me deeply, the urge to hold her in my arms came over me. However, I refrained.

  “Forgive me,” I said. “I cannot stay here a minute longer.” Because if I do, I risk losing my heart to you once more.

  7

  The Curse

  “Vite! I'm in a hurry!” I said. “I don't care if you drive all day!”

  “Oui, monsieur!”

  With haste, the six-in-hand drove off Deveraux Manor's gateway.

  I had but scarce time to reach Calais before sunrise, but I did not care. I closed the window drapes and committed to the task of reminiscing upon every minute of Juliette's deception for the journey's remainder, with nothing but hatred as my company.

  Unfathomable—that she should have lied to me all this time! And to think, I had contemplated the possibility of staying here in Paris with her. I had even planned to put an end to the persecutory game of tracking Alisa and Pritchard's trail.

  I had thought that perhaps I had found my place in the world as a vampire. I had thought that since Juliette and I shared this unnatural limbo fixed in the world between myth and reality, she could be trusted… How wrong I was.

  And even when I wanted with all my heart to cast her away from my life, I knew it could not be done. In our few weeks together, she had sunk her claws deep within my soul.

  In spite of it all, I could not deny she had been the one to open my preternatural eyes, showing me what true gifts lay within my vampiric power. And somehow, I got the sense that there was much more left to learn from her.

  Juliette’s heartbreak had been far from insincere. Her feelings for me were true, I had no doubt. But the reasons for her conduct eluded my understanding. Had she chosen to conceal the truth from me out of pure selfishness, or perhaps thinking she could spare me from the pain of learning it? Whatever the reason, she had questioned the strength of my heart, treating me as if I were a child, and that I could not forgive.

  In all recklessness, I had risked my very existence, running away as I had done. But after learning of my mother's poor health, there was little room for reason in my brain. My blood boiled with resentment against Juliette, but my mother's image remained fixed in my mind's eye throughout the entire journey. I ached to be with her.

  A few minutes later, exhaustion took hold of me and I drifted into a profound sleep.

  “We're here, M’Lord.”

  How many hours had passed and how many horses had been changed en route, I did not know. I only knew the moon peeked off the cloudy twilight sky as I drew the curtain back to ascertain being safe from the perilous sunlight.

  Determined to acquire passage quickly, I stepped off and moved to the quay. I would make use of every vampiric resource in my aid.

  Merchant ships prepared to sail, but one vessel stood amongst them all. The moment I caught sight of it, I almost laughed.

  The ship's figurehead, a voluptuous woman dressed in black garments; its black veil, translucent enough to distinguish the pair of striking blue eyes.

  “The blasted Black Maiden,” I said under my breath. “Unbelievable.”

  Oh, the options for travel were plenty. I could have purchased passage on a more suitable ship, with larger cabins that would satisfy my need for rest. But I was determined. I would get my ride in the Maiden if it were the last thing I did.

  He stood by one of the torches on the quay, wearing his black hooded cape, gathering rope.

  “How fares the wind, Captain Gallagher?” I said as I approached him.

  The man took a step back, failing to recognize me. Shaved beard, immaculately combed hair tied in a low ponytail, dressed in the finest Parisian laced silk suit, fitted to my personal wishes... the complete opposite of the man he had met a year ago in Bristol—well, there was that and the fact that I was a vampire now.

  “The wind fares fine,” he said, still trying to figure out who I was.

  “And the sea?” I said. “Does it fare well for travel too?”

  “It fares mighty well.”

  I moved a few feet closer for him to get a better view of my face under the torchlight.

  “It's ye!” He grabbed his chest as he chuckled. “Yer polished and all, but it's ye... yer Lockhart's lad!”

  “I am.” I nodded in gracious acceptance. “And where is the Maiden bound to now?”

  “Brazil,” he said with a smug tone. “We set sails at daybreak.”

  “The colonies.” I raised my brow. “Portuguese, if I'm not mistaken.”

  “Aye, loads of sugar fur yer teas,” he mocked.

  It became clear to me then. The choice was in my hands. W
ithin my power lay the opportunity to fulfill every last one of my childhood dreams and this time, no one—not even Captain Gallagher with all of his smugness—could stop me.

  The answer was simple.

  “I cannae help ye cross tae the New Werld, laddie.”

  I drew near and fixed my eyes on his.

  “Oh, I'm not heading that way,” I whispered.

  My nearness set his nerves on edge.

  “I'm bound to London,” I said, “and you're taking me there.”

  His eyes widened and something snapped within his brain in that instant. The rope slipped from his hands and banged on the deck.

  “We sail tonight,” I added.

  “Och aye, sairrr.”

  Evening set in.

  The gusts of wind struck against the sails and the ocean's soft melody enveloped my senses. I stood on the quarterdeck, reserved for the highest-ranked officers, an easy task achieved by my vampiric persuasion.

  Delighted, I fulfilled my whimsical desire of sailing aboard the Black Maiden. The weather conditions were on our side, and it would only take three hours to reach Dover.

  No dizziness, no sudden malaise. The sea suited me just fine tonight.

  “Gallagher,” I said.

  “Aye, laddie.”

  “Something has troubled my mind since the last time we met,” I mused. I could take profit from my unnatural abilities and read his mind, but it seemed more entertaining to engage him in conversation... to pass the time.

  “What is it?”

  “Last time I boarded the Black Maiden, you told me that being Stephen Lockhart's son, no one in their right mind would take me aboard.”

  “Aye. Ah did.”

  “You told me I was bad luck...” I said. “What did you mean by that?”

  Gallagher fixed his eyes on me for a second and then turned away. He stroked his beard and bit his lower lip.

  “You will tell me—or else.”