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

by Silvana G Sánchez

  “There you are!” I said, reaching her at last.

  “I have waited for you for a very long time,” she replied. “I got bored.”

  “You were waiting for me? What are you talking about? I have waited for hours!” I wanted to say, but remained silent for the sake of avoiding another argument as the many that flooded our evenings ever since her descent into darkness.

  Wearing her red satin gown, her blushing cheeks and reddened lips gave the appearance of one who had never been so closely acquainted with vampirism. With a quiet smile, her eyes glistened in the streetlamp's dim illumination. Her sight was one to hold dear, and in spite of my anger, which was slowly diminishing, I adored the hint of mischief in her glance. I did not care to know why she sat between both men or discover their identities, silent as they were.

  “We can leave now,” she said. “They won't mind.”

  With her gloved finger pressed on his chin, she tipped the man's head to the side so that the light bathed his face. The minute my eyes landed on him, I stepped back, appalled and horrified.

  Gashed open, ripped muscle fibers hung from his bloodied neck and the remnants of pink and red tissues embraced the torn windpipe which now lay exposed. The dark stain that drenched his vest and shirt could be nothing other than the consequence of his misfortune. And his eyes, vacant from any signs of life, were fixed open in frozen terror.

  No different had been the other man's fate. His neck broken, the skin ripped apart. The gap beneath his torn flesh created a smile on his throat from side to side, through which dried blood stained his shirt's collar. Curdled blood pooled on his lap, and a repulsive scent of decay oozed from his corpse, filling my nostrils with its hideous stench.

  A sudden spell of dizziness came over me. My stomach turned. Nauseous, I pressed my lips tight, covered my nose with my forearm and averted my gaze from the sickening pair.

  Revolting!

  “What's wrong?” she said with an air of naiveté that I found almost risible, as fake as it was.

  “What's wrong, you say?” I covered my lips with the back of my hand, afraid my blood-filled stomach would empty right then. “This! This is wrong!”

  She frowned. Obviously, we disagreed on the method of our killings.

  “You cannot go about killing like this!” I muttered. “I mean, look at them! The city has enough criminals to pay for our sins, yes—but this...! Do you mean to attract attention on us? Is that what you want?!”

  Her eyes fixed on me without an ounce of expression. But then, a smile drew on her lips and she laughed. Alisa's crystalline laughter echoed in the empty street.

  “Don't tell me you're afraid of them!” she said. “So what if we are discovered? We'll outlive them all, anyway! They are the ones who should fear us, Ivan; not the other way around.”

  My accursed blood boiled at the sound of her scornful words.

  The ruthlessness of her kill crawled beneath my skin, and though I cared little to admit it, it almost frightened me to discover within her such a fierce cold-blooded killer.

  “You think we're untouchable, is that it? How wrong you are!” I said, full of contempt. “Get rid of them. Throw them into the Thames if you must, but do not leave them here!”

  She pursed her lips and rolled her eyes back.

  “Do it!” I hissed while pacing back and forth, unable to set eyes on the wretched corpses again.

  “I will!”

  “Good!” I said with clenched teeth. “I'll see you back home.”

  What a fool I had been. I had truly believed her innocent—vulnerable even—the minute I had given her the Dark Blood. But months had passed since her awakening, and never once had I detected in her a shred of remorse after she killed. Not once.

  Her viciousness never ceased to appall me. And it was not that I had lacked the caution of teaching her the skills my maker had failed to show me, for this, I did at the very beginning.

  Alisa's ruthlessness was out of my hands.

  Regardless of my advice, she took their lives with untamed hunger. She toyed with them, taunted them, and lured her victims into her arms with a seductive spell that always ended up in bloodshed. Sometimes, it seemed I did not know her at all.

  “Still angry at me, are you?” she said as she appeared on the parlor's threshold.

  “I am not angry,” I muttered, although I was.

  “I know you well,” she whispered in my ear. “I know how much you disapprove of my hunting schemes.”

  “I only care for our safety,” I said. “What need is there for you to kill so savagely?”

  She knelt before me and her cold hands framed my face.

  “What would you have me do, Ivan? Would you have me deliver 'merciful death' as you do to your whores and beggars?”

  I remained silent.

  “I've often wondered,” she added, “whether you choose them out of mere sympathy or out of a twisted sense of morality.” Alisa gave me a knowing smile and sitting beside me, she clasped her hands around my neck.

  “All my life, I have abided by the rules of men,” she said in the softest voice. “I have played the part of the obedient daughter for a very long time, and I believe I did it rather well... At least, until the night you appeared in my bedroom.”

  I gave the hint of a smile.

  “For years, I have led my life according to the world's asphyxiating expectations... And for once in my life, I am free. Can you see why breaking the rules is so important to me now?”

  With nothing to say against her, I nodded.

  “I'm sure it's just a phase and it will pass, my love. You mustn't worry about me. I promise I'll be careful.” She kissed my cheek. “Here. This might cheer you up.”

  She slipped an envelope into my hand. I opened it and read.

  The favor of your presence is expected at

  Lord and Lady Ingram’s Manor for their annual charity ball.

  Special guest: Letizia Leone

  Soprano from La Scuola Veneziana.

  “Letizia Leone?” I raised my brow. “I thought she had retired from singing years ago.”

  “She had. This is a one-time event,” she said. “And I intend for us to be there.”

  “Oh, I don't know—”

  “This is not open for discussion, my love. It might well be the last time we ever hear her sing. One last Lament... we absolutely must go!” Her spirits soared high once again.

  “If you insist... I will not oppose your wishes.”

  Lord and Lady Ingram's dinner led us to the outskirts of London. They owned a large estate, with all the privileges of a country home, while retaining the perquisites of the city's lifestyle.

  After exchanging a few words with our hosts for the evening, Alisa dipped into the horde of lavishly attired lords and ladies. But I had no appetite for mingling in society, my aim was set elsewhere.

  Surrounded by a dozen admirers, young and old, she responded to their many questions, holding her poise with much grace. The gown she wore, in shades of dark red finished with gold embroidery, granted her an air of mystique which I found most appealing. Her long blond hair, styled in the popular Hurluberlu which I had once repudiated, delighted me more than I ever thought it would, as did she.

  How old was she now?

  Twelve years had passed since I had seen Letizia last, in Venice. She had started her career quite young, true. She must have been around her mid-twenties back then, perhaps. Had she become a wife, a mother?

  I wanted to get her away from the frolicking men engulfing her without compromising my pride.

  Making use of my vampiric gift, I summoned her. It was quite simple, in fact. I only needed to set eyes on her, bearing in mind my intent until she perceived my gaze. The moment her eyes landed on me, she smiled.

  I'm in.

  “I cannot believe my eyes!” she said, rising from the chair and making way through the surrounding committee of vultures. “Mr. Lockhart, you look just as I remember you! How is that possible?”
/>   I gave her half a smile and shrugged.

  She drew her hand towards me. I held it with care and pressed my lips against her satin glove. In that moment, I caught a glimpse of her racing mind.

  Letizia had married. She had no children, and her cheating husband hated all things related to her singing. He was not present tonight and rarely participated in any of her few invitations to sing... His detachment caused her great discontent.

  But then, I also caught a glimpse of her joy. Seeing me after all these years had taken her heart back to the better days of her musical career; back to the time when the world lay at her grasp, with her at its center. My sole presence elated her spirit in a way that left me breathless. I never knew I had caused such an impact in her life.

  The minute we were alone, Letizia's attitude became as relaxed and warm as I remembered.

  “You never did call...” she murmured with a hint of intimacy.

  “You left Venice the very next day,” I replied. “You never gave me a chance.”

  “Well, you have it now,” she said in a sultry voice. “What will you do with it?”

  Concealed behind the garden's tree-lined promenade, I kissed her lips, her cheeks; my tongue traveled down her neck with every means of sinking my fangs deep into her carotid artery and taking that precious drink. And in that moment, I did not care to discover the details of her life, or how it had swirled down to what it was at present. All that mattered was satisfying my endless desire as I inhaled the perfume of her skin, drunk in the lust of my unrelenting thirst.

  Unknowingly, she had appealed to my vanity by judging me the core of her happiness, the rekindling of her youth and passion for life. And this only made me strive to uphold such a privileged image. I would give her anything she wanted because it pleased my selfish needs... But I had other needs that required attending first.

  “It might be rough,” I whispered in a velvety voice.

  “I would not have it any other way,” she purred in Italian.

  No matter how much I wanted every drop of her blood dripping down my throat, I would not kill her. A brief drink, perhaps. She would allow it with hardly any struggle.

  I would have warned her of what was coming, but that would have been asking and my demands had no room for such a thing. I took what I wanted when I wanted.

  My hands covered her lips to prevent her from screaming. And while her tongue swirled around my fingers, I brushed her neck with my fangs, widened my mouth enough to measure the size of my bite and then sank my sharp canines into her flesh.

  Enraptured, she moaned.

  Locked in this preternatural embrace, I drove her back, against one of the many oak trees surrounding us. And as the evening cast upon us its comforting dark veil, my lips sealed the wound.

  Warm pulsing blood filled my mouth in one strong blow. The moment it hit my palate I cried, my senses lost in the brim of ecstasy.

  One drink, I reminded myself. No more.

  I bit my tongue until the crimson liquid burst out, and stopped her bleeding with a touch of my unnatural blood. Another lick and the wound began to heal.

  “Darling Letizia…” I mused. My voice was guttural. I ached for another drink.

  She seized my hand and slid it beneath her gown. And I had every desire to comply with her wishes, when out of nowhere, Alisa rushed through the garden with demonic speed, weeping all the way.

  I had never seen her so upset. And so, though it grieved me to do it, I parted from Letizia.

  “I'm so sorry for this, dearest,” I said, meaning every word. My preternatural eyes locked on hers. “Go back to your party and remember nothing.” A little vampiric suggestion. “Nothing, except this...” I pressed my lips against hers and gave her a kiss to hold onto for a very long time.

  Letizia’s eyes widened and filled with a blank stare. All memory of our prior vampiric intimacy, gone.

  “Sing with your heart tonight… as you always do,” I suggested bearing half a smile, both thirst and vanity satisfied. “It’s been a pleasure, Miss Leone.”

  Slowly, I backed away into the cover of darkness amidst the trees, and once I disappeared from Letizia’s visual field, I ran after Alisa.

  It didn’t take long to reach her. I found Alisa standing outside by the garden gates, frail and all but crumbling as she leaned against the stone wall, covering her eyes with her gloved hands.

  “Alisa,” I whispered, drawing closer. “What is it?” I peered through her fingers, trying to catch a glimpse of her eyes.

  Finally, she uncovered her face. Blood-tinged tears poured from her red-shot eyes and stained her cheeks. I expected to see pain in her countenance, but all I found was anger and the thirst for revenge.

  “Has someone hurt you?” I asked, however unlikely.

  Alisa stared at me, surprised. “Did you not hear them?” she asked, furrowing her brow. “Those horrid thoughts… Did you not hear the unspeakable poison distilling from their minds?”

  I stepped closer and wrapped one arm over her shoulders. “I thought we were immune to such things as poison,” I teased, pulling her towards me.

  My efforts aimed to distract her from whatever unpleasantness she had experienced in that gathering, but Alisa would not be dissuaded from her fury.

  “Their thoughts spoke of the perverseness of our nature, yours and mine! They dare judge us and how we live!” she said, looking back at the manor.

  “What do we care, my love?” I dismissed. “As you once said, we’ll outlive them all… Why bother ourselves with their petty remarks?”

  “You don’t understand, Ivan,” she muttered. “They humiliated me… I hate it! I will not be ridiculed so!”

  “I understand,” I said with a soothing tone, gliding my fingers through her hair. “But please, calm yourself.”

  Alisa’s tears stopped pouring. Her gaze turned as empty as if her eyes were carved of stone.

  “Do you know what frightened me the most while I listened to their secretive laughter?” she mumbled.

  I remained silent.

  “What frightened me the most was that I wanted to kill them,” she added. “All of them. I wanted to rip their throats open, one by one, until the ballroom flooded with their filthy blood… And not a single drop of it I would drink!”

  Her confession sent shivers down my spine, for I believed her capable of that and more.

  “Well, we can’t have that, can we?” I gave her a gentle smile. “I’ll tell you what. This calls for a change of scenery.”

  Alisa slumped her shoulders. “And where would we go?” she said, giving up.

  I took her in my arms. “To a place where no one gives a damn about who we are or what we do...” I said.

  “And where is that?” Alisa frowned.

  “Why, Paris, of course.”

  16

  Marmoreal Perfection

  PARIS, 1684.

  Paris. If ever there was a place more welcoming, a city more inviting and willing to overlook the shadows of our sins, it was La Ville Lumière.

  As soon as we arrived, I became aware of the vast possibilities the city offered. Here, everyone could reinvent themselves, and even pretend to be whoever they liked, as long as they had the means to procure such an illusion... and thanks to my maker's inheritance, we had sufficiently of that.

  A few weeks after settling in town, I discovered myself in a much different Paris. A sense of relentless change lingered in the air; constructions took over every inch of the city's core. New luxurious neighborhoods had risen from the muddy grounds, terrains once repudiated and left to the lowest of classes.

  I myself fell for such a creative wave and invested in a few developments as soon as I received the offer. And as it turned out, I had chosen wisely. Wealth beyond my expectations came from my meddling in such affairs and I welcomed it, for it made me part of this prosperous society.

  As a result of the city's imminent growth, money found itself ending in the most unexpected hands. And so, the once lower-c
lassed merchants now had become influential men who resided in Paris' most coveted new quartiers. Within their reach now were expensive carriages and manors the likes of Parisian aristocracy's, raising a sudden sense of equality never heard of until now.

  More alive than ever, I embraced the city and recalled that swift sense of freedom it had granted me the first time I set foot on its grounds.

  I expected this change of scenery would rekindle Alisa's love for me, that it would take away the growing distance between us. And at first, it did. We wanted this more than anything; with high hopes, we had counted the days until we would settle in our new home.

  For too long, I had dreamed of acquiring one of those lavish manors on l’Île de Saint-Louis, but not a minute had passed after I mentioned this to her, when the first of our quarrels in a long time had taken place.

  “No,” she had said, quite crossed. “I wouldn't dream of it!”

  Without stating her reasons, the idea was discarded at once. I would have insisted upon it, but I wanted peace between us... I needed it desperately. And so, I granted Alisa's wish and bought a manor in Saint-Germain-des-Prés, which was a highly fashionable neighborhood.

  I contented myself by procuring an estate of my liking in the country. But as of this evening, I wished to God I had never bought the damned place!

  After a few years of living civilly in each other's company, I began to notice Alisa's absences during the weekends. For too long, I played the fool and looked away from her behavior—which in truth, got more distant by the minute.

  I cried for many nights, fearing there would be no cure for her detachment, disappointed by her neglect, certain I had lost her. That is not to say I wallowed in complete misery, no. I did find more than one way to secure distraction—this, I had mastered from a very young age, and my talent for it did not fail me now that I was a vampire. However, I must say, despite the many pleasures I reveled in, her indifference hurt me more than ever. It stabbed my heart with a solid stake, and the pain was always there to remind me of her disdain.