by L. C. Son
My eyes glass, but I refuse to allow their release, blinking rapidly, I peer at the ceiling and force my tears back behind my eyes. “They told me they could help me avenge Calida’s betrayer. He yet lives,” I quietly reply.
“And did you?” DeLuca’s tone is somber and curious. Placing his hand on my knee he stares at me, breathing hard as he awaits my response.
“No.” I answer flatly.
DeLuca heaves a sigh of relief and his shoulders relax at my admission.
“But I tried. I wanted to. He was within my reach.” DeLuca’s eyes sink and his posture stiffens as I reveal my intent.
“What happened, Red?” DeLuca curiously questions.
“Dalcour is what. He bonded me—compelled me from going after any Peyroux. When I tried to end him, I couldn’t. I tried! I truly tried! But all my attempts were for nothing. So you see, whether it be the Changelings or Dalcour, there is always someone or something trying to control me!”
“But it doesn’t have to be that way, Red! With your blade you are now free to roam without fear of overindulgence. If that be the case, Dalcour has no reason to control you—even if you can’t do anything about this betrayer now, perhaps we can work up a plan to ensure his demise at another time.”
“You’d help me do that?”
“Of course, my beautiful Red!” DeLuca’s smile is sincere as he regards me.
“Thank you, DeLuca,” I begin softly. “I know I’ve never been able to share more affection with you than friendship, but I suppose it's because I respect and care for you more than I have anyone.”
“What about Sebastian?” DeLuca asks quietly.
“Yes, I loved Sebastian. Truly. But the Changelings even ruined that!” I reply as more glassy pools form behind my eyes.
“How so?”
“Well, I’ll spare you all the sordid details, but I’ll just say somehow they had me kill him while we were—um—together. I’m still not sure just how it all happened. It’s still kind of a blur.”
“Wait a minute! A blur? Please, Chartreuse tell me, did he say anything to you in the moment? Anything that seemed off—or out of character for him?” Frown lines cross DeLuca’s brow and he leans into me with a deep and serious stare.
“Well, DeLuca he said a lot of things in the moment that don’t bear repeating. Least of all to you—”
“I don’t care about those things, Red! Anything of worth? Anything that threw you off?”
“Oh, I guess if you count the time, he told me it would be our last together or how he’d never be with me again. All I remember is how his words made me feel. I’ve never felt so hurt. So betrayed.”
“Are you sure he said those words, beloved? Or did you simply hear those words?” DeLuca’s pointed stare digs deep and my mind rummages with memories of my last time with Sebastian.
“It’s odd. I do recall his mouth moving in a cadence different from his words. It was strange. My ears felt clogged, but I swore it was his voice.”
“His voice perhaps, but I’m not sure it was him, poppet. I think it was the Changelings!”
“Impossible! I was there, DeLuca! There was no mistaking his words.”
“But they were not his words, Chartreuse. That I can assure you!”
“How can you assure me, DeLuca? I was there, you were not!” I shout, rising up from beside him, but he pulls my arm, forcing me back down in the seat beside him.
“Because, my friend, I have never lied to you. Nor shall I ever do so. You know I told you I was an orphan. I was raised by gypsies. But they were no ordinary gypsies, they were a small trad of Changelings who’ve taken human form. They escaped their more wicked kin—much like the ones who are working their trickery against you. Since the beginning the dark ones have been at work to set an evil course against not only the race of men but other supernaturals. They want access to this world and will do whatever they can to make it so. Some say they’ve trapped the souls of pureblood Altrinions in Sheol, using their power as a source to gain more access to this world.”
As DeLuca speaks, thoughts of Dalcour’s recollection of the cursed deeds of the Changeling ring aloud in my memory.
“But why Sebastian?” I whisper.
“I don’t know, poppet. I don’t know. Perhaps because he was pureblood. Or perhaps just to get you to act in some manner—who knows?”
Shrugging my shoulders, I sigh and hug my knees to my chin. “I guess I’ll never know, DeLuca. All I know is that I am the root and cause for Sebastian’s death. He was the only son of an only son. His bloodline is now over and its all my fault!” I cry.
“No the only fault rests at the feet of the Changelings. But I can tell you this, whatever you believe Sebastian said to hurt you is not true.”
“You don’t know that DeLuca. Neither do I.”
“Actually, I do.” For the first time since he sat next to me, a broad smile covers DeLuca’s face that beams from ear to ear. Handing me a wad of rolled and crumpled paper, DeLuca smile meets his eyes. “Take it.”
“What is this?” I ask, unrolling the crumpled paper.
“When I went back to New Orleans to get your things, I decided to pay a visit to Sebastian’s home. It’s been quite vacant, so I thought I’d pry a bit. In all fairness, I wanted to get a sense about the pauper who’d stolen your heart in my absence,” DeLuca says revealing an air of jealously. “Looking around, I found the surprisingly, yet mildly decayed body of an old chum in the cellar vault. I suppose the lack of oxygen in the cellar preserved him a bit longer than most. But what I found most interesting what the paper he gripped tight in his hand. Reading it, however, was more surprising. Take a look.”
DeLuca nods at me to open the crumpled paper and I see two train and shipyard passes for both me and Sebastian.
“Tickets!” I gasp, surprised to see my name on the receipts. Even more shocking is that my name is listed as Chartreuse St. John not Grenoble. “He meant for me to leave with him?” I mumble to myself.
“Yes, beloved. Your Sebastian cared for—no loved you very much. He was willing to leave it all behind for you,” DeLuca says gently. “Here, look at this,” he continues, shifting the papers and pointing to a small note card.
Dear Lord Marchand,
If you are reading this letter, you are aware I have taken something from you. Chartreuse. Leaving in haste, we thought it best to tell you the news of our parting via letter. Should Chartreuse choose to write you, that will be her own affair. I only write this to you as a courtesy and not one of permission. I know what my father’s plans are for me. I am also now aware of your plans for my soon-to-be wife. In the short time we have spent together, I’ve come to love her like no other, nor shall there ever be another. She loves me not for status or out of some fatalistic ritual but for who I am. Vampire or not she will be my wife. If it must be that no children are reared by name it is of no matter to me. I care not for my bloodline to continue if I’ll not have her at my side. While I hope you can understand, I shall not wait for permission.
Please give Jerrica my best. I’m sure she’ll find a love of her own. Perhaps right under her nose. Until the next time we meet, I bid you farewell. I promise I will take care of Chartreuse, with everything I’ve got.
Kind regards,
Sebastian St. John
Every bit of air is sucked from my lungs as Sebastian’s letter falls from my hands into my lap. For months, I’ve agonized over the hand I had in killing Sebastian. Even more the thought that he did not love me as I did him pained my heart inconsolably as I alone shouldered the weight of my grief.
Now, I know my heartache was misplaced. While the Changelings did use me to kill the only man I have ever loved, they took more from me than I thought possible. Love. Not only did they want to pit me against Dalcour with the reveal of Elias Peyroux, but they managed to sully the care I alone shared with Sebastian.
Why they chose me to do their bidding I do not understand. But I will
find a way to avenge the only love I have ever known if it’s the last thing I do.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
“I’m ready to see my sister,” I announce at the table as Tabitha pours second rounds of blood into our glasses as we sit around Decaux’s pub table.
Everyone looks down the table at me as if they’d just seen a ghost, but I know better. They’re still not fully convinced the jasper stone is keeping my frenzy at bay. Decaux raised concerns not long after Scotty’s transformation was complete. He thinks because I held endearment for Scotty, I was able to rein in my impulse.
Perhaps he’s right. Perhaps he’s wrong.
At this point I don’t care. It’s been almost a year since I’ve seen Chalmette and the letters between us will no longer suffice. Especially since the last letter I received revealed she was expecting and nearing her third trimester, I can no longer wait to see her.
“Are you sure you’re ready for that, Red?” DeLuca asks with his eyebrow raised. Tabitha keeps her hand at her waist, leaning on DeLuca’s chair as she sips the remaining blood from the pitcher as she stares at me.
“You’ll never forgive yourself if you do to her what you did to me,” Tabitha quietly replies. While I know she doesn’t wholly blame me for her transition into vampire, she’ll never forget the day I bit her. Running into her in the City as she came to pick up new fabrics from the nearby port, I never thought the day would end with her transitioning before my eyes as my venom scorched her veins. Little did I know she was looking for an out while drowning in debt from her business. She’s always said I helped her more than I know.
“And what about Scotty?” DeLuca questions once more as he leans back from the table. “Do you think it’s a good idea to take him around so many so soon? He’s still wet behind the ears.”
“Chartreuse has been training me,” Scotty mumbles as he stands up from the table to grab another pitcher.
“I’ve heard the training Chartreuse is giving you,” Decaux says, casting his typical wickedly charming grin. “I don’t think that training will help you master your bloodlust, my friend.”
Scotty looks over his shoulder and gives me a smirking grin as he hunches his shoulders.
Decaux isn’t entirely wrong. Scotty and I have returned to our typical musings except now he has no need of protecting me from tippers. While I care for him deeply, even he knows it's not what I shared with Sebastian. But I don’t think he cares. Nor do I.
Scotty has changed since his turning. Gone are the awkward features that made him look more ogrish. Whatever flaws he had are gone, his teeth are pearly white, and his dark eyes are deep and dangerous; everything I love about a man. Already muscular, his large frame is more taut, and his body is now reminiscent of the fallen Greek deities of legend.
So yes, I take my pleasure in him regularly and him in me. I’ve even traded prowling partners, taking him over Decaux because at least I know he wants more than a depraved and sadistic screw. He wants me whether we’re drunk on blood or not.
Having no other restraints than our own hunger, Scotty and I can go on with one another for hours at a time. Decaux has often suggested the jasper stone increases passion. I don’t know whether it’s true, but I’d never want it to change.
“Scotty will be just fine,” I counter, winking at Scotty who now stands across the room.
“Have it your way!” Decaux exclaims, jumping up from the table. “But you’ll have to do it without me. I have other matters to tend to and can’t leave Natchez right now.” Walking to the back room, Decaux leans against a tall wooden pillar and smiles. “I’m sure you’ll be fine, Chartreuse but remember while your thoughts may glee about seeing your young sister, there are other worries to have beyond your own bloodlust. Be certain you are ready for whatever you may find when you return.”
“Great! We can finally leave this little creepy town in Mississippi!” Tabitha exclaims, clapping and bouncing up and down. DeLuca laughs, obviously entranced by her luscious curves, he pulls her into his lap and crushes their mouths together.
I’m not the only one with a high sex drive, I chuckle, thinking to myself.
“Will you be okay all alone?” I ask Decaux as he glares at each of us from the doorpost.
A wide smile parts the corners of his mouth and he laughs while walking down the long dark hallway to his suite. “Oh my dear, I thought you knew. I am never alone,” he laughs once more and exits into the darkness.
“Well then everyone,” I shout, attempting to break up the exchange between Tabitha and DeLuca as I rise from my chair. “Prepare your things! We leave tomorrow at nightfall.”
DeLuca and Tabitha only grunt in reply and Scotty and I take our cue and make our way to my suite.
“Are you sure?” Scotty asks, taking one last sip of his glass. “I’m not talking about seeing your sister. But your mother and Monroe. Will you revisit the saloon?”
The thought of Mother and Monroe never entered my mind when I first thought to see Chalmette, but I know both Scotty and Decaux are right. In the last few months, I’ve conquered quite a bit in my short time as a vampire. Everything—except this.
Despite not having a drop of supernaturality, I know the real monsters of my past too well. Whether I’m truly ready to face them remains to be seen, but I can stay away from my sister no longer.
Taking the glass from Scotty’s hand, I rise to the balls of my feet and lick the outline of blood from his lips. While I know he means well, I’d rather not discuss Mother nor Monroe now.
Scotty’s eyes darken with passion and I feel him instantly stiffen as I press myself against him. As is his custom, he rips my gown from my body, exposing my breasts first. Delighting himself at the helm of my cleavage, Scotty lifts me in his arms, and leans me against the wall while ripping the remnants of my gown from me.
Since Scotty and I have revived our time together, I am thankful to have a seamstress like Tabitha with us. I’ve gone through more garments in the last month than I can recall. If it wasn’t a bloodstain, it was Scotty ripping my clothes from me.
“Is this what you want, love?” Scotty asks, lifting my left leg up on his hip as he teases my entrance with his fingers.
“It’s what I need,” I moan, leaning into his shoulder as his thick finger circles the depth of me. In all my years, Scotty has been the only one to spark my release just from the pad of his forefinger. Perhaps it’s because his finger alone rivals the size of what most men tote between their thighs. Whatever the reason, I am thankful.
“Nice and ready for your Scotty as always,” he groans, tapping my spot as I cry out in his arms. “Go ahead and let it out, love. Give your Scotty that sweetness.” His forefinger and thumb war over my preciousness, sending me into a shrieking cry as I meet my climax. Pulling his hand from me, he licks his fingers, moaning as he does. “You’re always so sweet for me.”
“Ah, Scotty,” I whine. “You deserve so much more.” And he does. But right now I’m thankful for him taking my mind off what may await me.
“I deserve to be at your side. I was willing to face death itself just for the chance to be with you—and in you.” Scotty pants, grabbing my precious place hard, tickling my entrance with his large fingers. I let out a gasp as he touches me, wishing he’d settle himself inside me. “You give me all I deserve and more,” Scotty sweetly says, running his other hand through my hair. “Right now you know what your Scotty needs. Are you going to give it to me?” He asks as he lays me on the bed. Scotty’s eyes darken with lust as his eyes stay fixed between my legs. Not waiting for my response, he lifts my legs his bulking shoulders and hovers over me as he and the strength of his manhood await my response.
Husky breaths are all I have to give as my femininity throbs with desire. “Yes, Scotty, it’s already yours.”
My lover doesn’t waste much time plunging himself deep into the core of me, as my legs dawdle over his broad shoulders. Being such a big man, almost seven feet and wi
de as two doors, Scotty is surprisingly gentle with me. Even though he knows he can’t break me, he refuses to lay on top me, and remains standing as he ruts himself into me.
Before we were vampires, he always insisted on taking me on all fours or that I straddle him, fearful he’d crush me. Receiving Scotty from behind is almost brutal; even more so now that he’s a vampire. The way he punishes both my backside and preciousness is not for the faint of heart. With his hands at my hips, every time he slams himself into me, I fear will be my last. Growling as he rotates his hips until he reaches his peak, every unrelenting thrust penalizes my preciousness until my back is arched in willful submission, I thought I’d never know apart from Sebastian.
Maybe it’s because we’ve been together before, or because he knows me for years, Scotty seems to anticipate my needs and wants more than anyone. Not much has changed. Once he’s had his full of me on his feet, he lifts me once more to his waist as he lays on his back, allowing me full control.
I’m not sure if it’s because he likes the bounce of my breast or the depth of my grind as I buck him hard like a Clydesdale until we meet our shared release, but one thing is sure Scotty enjoys every ounce. Knowing he simply wants me without a barter or request is more than freeing. Although I wish I could give him what he deserves, I am yet thankful he’s willing to take what I have to give.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Natchitoches. Never did I think I’d need to return here.
But my precious sister Chalmette is my only reason. Before leaving Natchez, I ensured we all drank our full of both Decaux’s supply and a band of settlers we met on their way from out west. Through it all, I am surprised at my restraint. With my enchanted dagger at my hip, I was able to feed and release without much aggravation. Not only did I surprise myself, but both DeLuca and Tabitha seemed pleased I was able to curb my appetite.
Scotty was a little hard to tame. I suppose DeLuca was right to be concerned. Ravenous with thirst, he almost took down two grown men at once. Thankfully, it didn’t take much for us to help Scotty settle. Even though DeLuca didn’t sire him, he certainly curtails his bloodlust at DeLuca’s command. Something tells me there may yet be a hint of DeLuca’s Altrinion compulsion ringing through. Either way, I am happy Scotty is learning to control his thirst.
