by J. P. Bowie
Joseph needed some TLC and fast.
The leading wraith turned to us, his shape shifting into that of a more solid appearance.
It was then I realised that the wraith-like forms were not their regular bodies.
Marcus, reading my thoughts gripped my shoulder. “You are correct, Micah. Wizard magic helps them change their forms at will—one more reason they cannot be trusted.”
The leader removed the hood of his cape and stared at us from dark eyes that were startling and at odds with his almost white-blond, shoulder-length hair. Jeez, I thought, even the bad vampires are hot looking. For a moment, his eyes locked on mine, and my skin prickled with apprehension. It was as if I could feel him probing my mind.
Then he said, “Marcus, take your companions and go. This is not for you to see. We will keep the dark cloud over the sun until you reach the time portal.”
Great. Let’s go.
“Darius…” Marcus stepped towards him. “What assurance do we have that the evil one will die here today?”
Oh, please don’t get them all riled up and mad at us again.
“Angelo will be punished,” the one called Darius replied. “But you will also, if you do not leave immediately.”
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Let’s go!
“Very well,” Marcus said to my great relief. “I trust in your word.”
“Marcus.” I tugged at his arm as we hurried from the Hall. “That guy in charge of the Dark Forces, he was looking at me strangely.”
Marcus grimaced. “Darius…most likely he was surprised to find you, a mortal, in our midst.”
We had made it as far as the outer castle yard when Joseph stumbled and pitched
forward, lying very still on the ground.
“Joseph!” I knelt by his side, trying to turn him over. I couldn’t budge him, but Marcus lifted him into his arms as though he weighed nothing at all.
“We must get him to the healer right away,” he said, his voice tense with concern.
“Roger, carry Micah back to the portal.”
“Right. Hop on, Micah.”
We rose into the air, Jean-Claude, Andre and the others right alongside us. We hadn’t gone very far when, from behind us, came the sound of an enormous explosion. Roger, along with all the others turned and hovered. I gaped awestruck at the giant ball of fire that had once been the wizards’ stronghold. The force of the blast almost knocked Roger and I out of the sky, and I yelped as I slipped off his back. I grabbed his belt and hung there, swinging like a trapeze artist until Jean-Claude zoomed up under me and hoisted me back up so I could grab onto Roger’s shoulders.
“Don’t do that again,” Roger quipped, slapping my butt.
“Very funny,” I said, weakly. “What d’you suppose happened back there?”
“The Dark Forces put paid to Angelo I should think—hopefully, this time for good.” He pointed ahead of us. “Look, there’s the portal straight ahead. Marcus has already taken Joseph through.”
“Will he be all right?” I asked.
“Oh, yeah. Joseph’s as strong as a horse.”
“Marcus said something about a healer.”
“Yeah, he told me about her. Some old woman who’s been around forever, and who
takes care of the badly wounded—I mean, uh…not that Joseph’s badly wounded or
anything.”
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Right, Roger. I know he’s badly hurt, I thought but kept quiet. All I could do was pray.
We landed near the portal, and I ran straight through without waiting for anyone else. I looked around the passageway that thankfully was cloaked in darkness, lit only by a few candles. The vampires who had stayed behind were gathered around Joseph, while Marcus conferred with the woman Roger had told me about. Man, she was really old!
Surely, she couldn’t be a vampire.
Marcus saw me and beckoned me over. “This is Sharla,” he said. “She will tend to Joseph’s wound.”
Sharla gave me a squinty look from watery blue eyes. “He will need blood,” she said in a crackly voice. “But you are not an immortal.”
“No, but I’ll gladly give him my blood,” I blurted. “You must save him.”
“Calm yourself, Micah.” Marcus squeezed my shoulder. “Joseph wants you near him.”
“Human blood,” the old woman said, wheezing as she plodded to where Joseph lay.
“Even better. A good mixture of vampire and human should do the trick.”
Joseph looked up at me and smiled faintly. God, but he did not look good. A tremor of fear rippled through me as I knelt by his side and took his hand in mine. Someone had covered him with a cloak. His hand was icy cold.
“Joseph…” My voice sounded weak and trembled. I leaned over him and kissed his
lips. “I love you,” I whispered.
“Out of the way, out of the way,” Sharla scolded, tugging at my shoulder. “Kisses can come later.” She produced a small bottle of clear liquid, which she sprinkled on the open wound on Joseph’s shoulder. Then she leaned in close and blew on it. I wondered how hygienic all of this was, but everyone seemed so rapt and enthralled by what she was doing that I said nothing. Suddenly, she grabbed my hand, and before I knew what was happening, she had sliced open my wrist.
“Shit,” I yelled as she pulled at me, holding my wrist over Joseph’s wound and letting the blood drip into it. She muttered some strange words, holding me in a vice-like grip while she smoothed my blood over Joseph’s shoulder. I didn’t mind what she was doing as long as it helped Joseph recover, but she could’ve asked before she’d slashed at me with a knife.
“Now, Marcus,” she croaked, handing the knife to him. He nodded, opening his shirt and gashing himself above his left nipple. I watched with fascination as he lifted Joseph to DUET IN BLOOD
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his chest, letting him suck the blood that oozed from the cut. There was something erotic and beautiful about what was being played out in front of me—these two stunning men, the one nurturing the other, bringing him life with a selfless act of love and friendship. Sharla continued with her incantation while Joseph drank, and I sighed with relief as I saw the pallor in his cheeks being replaced by a healthier glow.
“Enough, Marcus. Now the mortal.”
Sharla grabbed me again and pushed my wrist towards Joseph’s mouth. He looked at me, hesitating, a question in his eyes. I nodded, and he bowed his head to take what I offered him. I stroked his hair while he sucked from me, and all around I heard the sighs of satisfaction from his friends as they recognised the worst was over, and Joseph would recover. He raised his head and looked into my eyes with such love and adoration, that, for a moment, my heart stood still with wonder.
“Thank you, my sweet Micah,” he whispered, kissing my wrist to heal the cut. Someone was massaging my shoulders. I looked up. It was Jean-Claude. His eyes were misted with tears, but he was smiling at me.
“Watching you both, just now,” he said softly. “I was reminded of when Ron saved me in like manner. Such are the purposes of love.”
“You vampires are much too romantic for your own good,” Sharla commented with a
dry chuckle. “Purposes of love, indeed. Half the troubles you bring upon yourselves are created in the name of love, I’ll be bound.”
“Now, now, Sharla,” Marcus demurred. “I remember a wondrously beautiful young
woman who once risked all for love.”
“Right, and see what it got me.” She pushed me out of the way again, and with
surprising strength, helped Joseph to his feet. “Tut…” She regarded his nakedness with disapproval. “Wrap that cloak about you, young man. It’s not polite to walk about naked in front of a lady, you know.” She smacked Joseph on his bottom as she spoke then let out a loud laugh. “There was a time though when the sight of that would have st
irred something inside me. Ah, well.”
“Thank you, Sharla,” Joseph said, embracing the old woman. “You have always been a wonderful friend to us. And thank you for calling me a young man.”
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“Why? What are you? Four, five hundred? A fledgling compared to some—like Marcus there.”
Roger chortled beside me. “Tell me…I almost passed out when he told me how old he was.”
I gazed about me, still amazed at the fact that these people had already lived several lifetimes—and yet all of them, apart from Sharla, looked to be under thirty. She looked at me and smiled, and suddenly I thought I saw the woman she must have been many years ago—
a beautiful woman.
“So, young mortal,” she said, her voice now soft and almost young. “You have shown great bravery today. Joseph has chosen well. I can see in your eyes that you and he have exchanged the blood vows. It will be well.” She stiffened suddenly, looking towards the open door. “Marcus, take your brood away from this place. I like not its future.”
“The Dark Forces?” Marcus asked.
She nodded. “They are coming, and I must go.” She turned on her heel and walked
with surprising agility towards the door. “Farewell, Vampires. See you do not dally here.”
Marcus looked around at his band of fellow vampires. “Thank you all for the aid you have given us. Remember, if anyone here ever needs help, you have only to reach out. Now, I think we’d better take Sharla’s advice and leave here. The Dark Forces will want to destroy this last stronghold of the Wizard Brotherhood. The sun will set in just a few minutes, and we can leave. Time enough to say our farewells.”
“Where are they all going?” I asked Joseph as we watched the vampires fly off into the night sky.
“To their homes,” he replied, holding me close. “London, Athens, Madrid…some to
remote parts of the earth. Wherever they call home.”
“We must go, Joseph,” Marcus said. “I can feel the approach of evil. Shall we
rendezvous at your house in Paris? I will carry Micah. I don’t think you are quite strong enough yet.”
Joseph nodded. “Thank you, Marcus.”
Roger said, “Jean-Claude and I will fly alongside you, just to make sure you’re okay, Joseph.”
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“Very good. Now, let us go.” Marcus hoisted me onto his back, and I hung on tight as he zoomed up, up and away. I was getting quite used to this, I thought, as we shot through the darkness. I wasn’t even afraid to keep my eyes open this time. Flying with Roger had been a bit of an iffy experience, but it was obvious Marcus was an old hand at this, flying as he did with a smoothness American Airlines would envy. Just how old? I wondered. Sharla had called Joseph ‘a fledgling’ compared to Marcus. But what did it matter? The man looked incredible, and from the feel of the hard muscular body I was clinging to, he was in super shape.
The lights of a large city appeared before us. “Paris!” Marcus shouted so I could hear him over the rushing of the air around us. “We’ll be at Joseph’s in a few minutes.”
Boy, this was the only way to fly.
We landed on a large balcony, and I could hardly contain my excitement as I looked down onto the bustling street below. Paris! This was beginning to feel like a dream again—
only, a different dream, one without demons and nasty wizards—just vampires. Oh boy. In my wildest envisioned, I could never have imagined any of this. How crazy was this? How unbelievably, crazy wonderful was this?
The French doors swung open as if of their own accord—but I figured Marcus had
something to do with that—another thing I was getting used to. We walked inside. Joseph’s home, I thought, looking around at the tastefully decorated room furnished with elegant antiques. The walls hung with paintings I could get lost in.
“Boy, this is nice,” I murmured, almost immediately feeling at home.
A loud thump on the balcony was followed by a colourful expletive and some laughter.
“Roger.” Marcus strode to the French doors. “I’ve told you before. Slow down, before you attempt to land.”
“I know, I know,” Roger said, from his sitting position. “I’ll get it one of these days.”
Joseph and Jean-Claude helped him into the living room. Joseph still had the borrowed cloak wrapped around him. He looked wind-blown and absolutely fantastic. I threw myself into his arms, knocking the cloak off him in the process. He kissed me with a hard passion, and we stood there oblivious to everything and everyone until Roger coughed quietly into his hand and said, “You guys really need to get a room.”
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“You are right, Roger,” Joseph said, chuckling, and wrapping the cloak round his waist for modesty’ sake. “And I know just where it is.”
“Well,” Marcus said. “I think it’s time we left you two alone. We can stay over at my house here in Paris, Jean-Claude, if you wish—or did you want to go back to LA right away?”
“I should let Ron know we are all right,” Jean-Claude replied. “I’ve been trying to keep in touch with our thoughts, but I know he’d like to hear from me, the old fashioned way—by phone.”
“Maybe he could fly out here for a few days,” I suggested. “I mean…on a plane,” I added, clearly for my own benefit.
“I’ll ask him. May I use your phone, Joseph?”
“Of course. It would be nice if Ron could join us. I have promised Micah the grand night-time tour of Paris, and Ron would be company for him during the day.”
“He’ll never believe all that’s gone down since I last saw him,” I said.
Jean-Claude smiled. “Oh, I think he will believe it. Since meeting all of us, his life has become less than ordinary.” He picked up the phone. “Now,” he said as he dialled Ron’s number, “I think you and Joseph should spend some time alone. We will see you tomorrow evening.”
I kissed his cheek. “Tell Ron hello, won’t you? And, thanks for everything you’ve done for Joseph and me.”
He kissed me back, on both cheeks. “Au revoir, Micah.” He turned his attention to the mouthpiece. “Hello Ron. Yes we are fine…”
We hugged and said goodnight to Roger and Marcus, then Joseph led me to his
bedroom. “I think a nice hot bath is in order,” he said, tossing the cloak onto an antique armchair.
“Sounds like heaven,” I said, holding him close. “God, Joseph, I can’t believe what we’ve all just been through. And now, here we are in your home in Paris. When am I ever going to wake up?”
He kissed my lips gently. “You are very much awake, my love. And again, I am so sorry for putting you through all of this. Believe me, having you come face-to-face with wizards, DUET IN BLOOD
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Angelo, and the Dark Forces was never in my plans for our future together. I am just grateful that we came out of it relatively unscathed.”
“How’s your shoulder?” I asked, kissing the place where the javelin had pierced him.
“Perfect, thanks to you.”
“And Marcus,” I prompted.
“Yes, and Marcus—and let’s not forget Sharla.”
“Yeah…she is something else,” I said. “She’s not a vampire, is she?”
“Not a vampire. Sharla is a witch. A good witch,” he added, seeing my eyes widen.
“And a wonderful friend to us. She was condemned by the Wizard Brotherhood for her affiliation with us.”
“Condemned?”
Joseph nodded. “Sharla was once a very beautiful young woman, gifted in the arts of earth magic—the kind of magic that heals wounds, both physical and of the mind. She was taken captive by the Wizard Brotherhood and subjected to the same humiliation as was I. She had a lover, a warlock named Benjamin, who tried everything in his power to
rescue her. But earth magic is no match for the dark arts the wizards employed, and when Benjamin challenged the Brotherhood, they killed him and dragged his body before her for her to see.”
“Bastards,” I muttered, hating those ugly guys even more.
“But Sharla was more powerful than they thought, and left alone with Benjamin’s body, she conjured him back to life.”
“Wow,” I breathed, hanging on every word of Joseph’s story.
“Together, they managed to escape the wizard’s stronghold and kept them at bay for many years. During that time, they joined forces with Marcus and his vampire army and were of great benefit because of their healing gifts. Of course, the Brotherhood could not forgive this—”
“This doesn’t have a happy ending, does it?” I asked, taking his hand.
“I’m afraid not.” Joseph held me close as he continued. “They were recaptured and tortured in the most vile way. Benjamin was drawn and quartered and the pieces of his body buried in places where Sharla could not find them. But not content with just that, they took away her beauty and condemned her to live forever as an old woman. When Marcus rescued DUET IN BLOOD
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her, he offered to imbue her with his blood, but she declined, saying that without Benjamin, she had no need for beauty.”
“That is so sad,” I muttered. “And yet, she remains faithful to you and Marcus.”
“Yes…as I said, she has been a wonderful friend to us.” He smiled into my eyes, and kissed me. “Sharla would scold us if she could hear us now. One thing she cannot abide, is pity.”
“I hope, one day I’ll see her again,” I said. “So I can thank her properly for healing you.”
He released me from his embrace then steered me into the bathroom, where a huge
claw-foot tub stood in the middle of the tiled floor.
“Wow, we could have a party in there,” I kidded, watching him turn on the faucets.
“A party with only two guests,” he said, smiling at me. “Here, let me take that travesty of clothing off you.” He slipped the tunic, or what was left of it, over my head. “Feel free to wear whatever you want from my closet until we can get you some new clothes.”