A crushing feeling hovered over her as they walked through the corridor toward a steel reinforced door at the end. Random doors lined their path on both sides, but heaviness thick with warning actually forced her not to see, not to look. Wards may have blocked the rooms from view, but she didn’t need her eyes to see what went on behind closed doors. The images bombarded her almost of their own volition.
Her throat tightened and she stumbled, grabbing onto Sean’s arm. His hand gripped her elbow, and he helped her up. She felt the warmth drain from her face, and one look from him told her, he felt it too. These rooms were where vampires did the unspeakable.
“I trust you can keep up, yes?” Abigail taunted with a sniff. She turned, and a scornful breath escaped her lips at Lily’s strained expression. “Oh, please, where exactly did you think you were headed? These rooms are what they are, and even among my kind they are not for the faint of heart. This one here is a favorite. La Chambre de L’allaitement.”
Jack gave Sean a confused look. With Abigail’s sophistication and flourish, her posh accent made the words sound mysterious and chic, but after four years of high school French, Lily knew exactly what it meant. The images that hit her when they entered the corridor left no doubt in her mind it was a fetish room for vampires who liked to feed on lactating women. She looked at Sean, who knowingly met her gaze with the same revulsion.
What in God’s name had they gotten themselves into?
Abigail’s grin grew to ugly proportions, her fangs elongating like an exclamation point on their debauched lifestyle. “When you live for centuries, it gets harder and harder to find diversions. It happens.” She shrugged, unremorseful. “Some of us grow bored with modern notions of political correctness and become nostalgic. This room is called La Oubliette.” She looked right at Lily. “Just think of the King Charles VIII and his war on the Borgias and the treatment their enemies endured. You’ll get the idea.”
Lily swallowed hard. “I don’t need imagination to give me a visual. I get it unsolicited, complete in 4-D high definition. So, if you don’t mind, can we just get to where we’re going? I’m sure the council is waiting on us.”
She let go of Sean’s arm and straightened, squaring her shoulders, not really caring if that counted as strike two. He didn’t say a word, though. Not verbally or telepathically, just sent her a mental kiss.
“Thanks for that,” she feathered back.
“Anytime.”
“Do you actually know who we’re meeting with, or are we completely winging it?”
“The master goes by the name Sébastien. I met him years ago, and from what I remember he’s nearly a thousand years old. His right hand man is called Rémy. They were both made by the same sire in France during the middle ages. Hence all the Gallic references.”
“Great. Two vamp brothers who came from chaos and war. This just keeps getting better and better…”
***
“I bid you ease, Sean Leighton, Alpha of the Brethren,” Sébastien said, rising to greet Sean from his seat near the fireplace. “Though, I sincerely regret the reason for this reunion. If only it was under happier circumstances.” He glided forward across the same ebony hardwood displayed in the upstairs lobby, his hand extended in welcome.
Lily slid her eyes sideways to Jack, who had visibly blanched at the sight of the master vampire. The man was imposing. Not that he was physically large. In fact, his physique appeared more in line with the men of his time, diminutive as compared with men of the twenty-first century, and downright small compared with both Sean and Jack. His commanding presence and the unmistakable aura of vampiric power and formidable magic made him lethal.
Sébastien moved fluidly and seemed to float above the ground. His dark curling hair set off his pale skin, but it wasn’t the stark white Lily expected. It seemed to have a translucent appearance, like a thin sheet of velum or onion skin. Through the veil of her lashes, she compared him with the other vampires, surprised to find as many varying shades of pale translucence as there were human skin tones.
As the man came upon Sean, Lily shivered, her skin crawling with gooseflesh from the cold knowledge that this was the first of many tests this evening would bear. The manner in which the master vampire acknowledged the Alpha of the Brethren would set the tenor for the rest of the undead seated around the room.
Sean stood tall and grasped the man’s proffered hand in an ancient symbol of brotherhood, each clasping the other’s forearm, though Lily knew it was for protocol’s sake alone and not because of any abiding alliance. The inherent promise smacked of equality and fidelity, yet it was a pie crust promise, easily made and easily broken.
The fire crackled in the oak and stone hearth, sending shadows dancing along the walls. The warm light added richness to the heavy furniture and the brocade tapestries that hung in long decorative panels on either side of the fireplace. More of a library than tribunal, the room’s ambiance lent itself to knowledge and contemplation rather than argued pleas and convictions.
Four chairs graced the thick hearth. They were unmistakably seats of power. As Sébastien greeted their guests, the three remaining adjudicators stayed seated, each with a vampire guard standing directly behind them, their eyes alert and unblinking. Abigail took her place behind Sébastien’s empty chair, her long white fingers curved possessively over its tufted top.
None of the vampires were dressed casually, making Lily wonder if this parley was considered a formal occasion. She glanced down at her own attire, questioning her choice to wear her leathers. Glancing across to Jack, the younger wolf shrugged as if he read her thoughts. He was right, there was nothing she could do about it now. The important thing was Sean had dressed appropriately, thank God—as Sébastien was dressed similarly in a dark pinstripe suit, his blood ruby shirt paired with a tie of the same.
Sean met the master vampire’s smile. “Thank you for your gracious invitation, especially considering the short notice. I am gratified you deigned this matter essential enough to oversee personally.” Sean answered, his manner and his speech taking on as formal a tone as the vampire’s.
Lily studied Sean’s body language, sending a mental note to Jack to do the same. If this meeting required old fashioned formalities to be successful, then they’d both better be onboard with it as well.
The skin on the back of her neck prickled. Not in the same way it did in the bar, but more like when someone was watching you. Abigail eyed her, but the vibe wasn’t coming from her. Lily swiveled her head around toward the doorway on the opposite wall from where they stood.
The guard standing at attention next to the exit was staring at her, his eyes narrowed and suspicious.
Abigail followed Lily’s gaze and chuckled quietly, earning a sharp look from Sébastien. “And what is so amusing, Abigail?”
She snapped to attention, immediately dropping her eyes. “Nothing, my liege. It’s just Etienne seems to have honed in on their psychic.”
Lips tight, Sébastien gave her a withering glance. “You’ll have to accept my apologies, Sean. My aide-de-camp is yet a fledgling, less than 250 years old. She was one of the original settlers here in the New World. I saved her from starvation by assuaging my own thirst on her lovely neck,” he chuckled. “1767, I believe, isn’t that so, chéri?”
Lily’s gaze jerked toward Abigail, and the look on the woman’s face confirmed what she suspected. They not only identified the vamps by voice, but also by date sired. 2141767. Aww…Abigail was a valentine vamp!
The woman’s eyes narrowed, and another wave of hostility surged in Lily’s direction along with a protracted hiss.
“That’s enough, Abigail. Your behavior is not only beneath your station, it’s tiresome. The alpha’s seer is no threat to any of us. In fact, she is quite the interesting specimen.” Sébastien shifted his regard toward Lily and inhaled, holding his breath for a moment as if sampling a fine wine. “Yes, indeed. I so love a trace of Were blood. It makes for such an irresistible blend. But I digre
ss.”
He returned to his seat, his second-in-command chastised, but still scowling. Arranging himself, he crossed one leg over the other. “Don’t look so thrown my dear. You are all quite safe…for the moment. As to how I gathered my information, did you honestly think a complete dossier on each of you wouldn’t be there at my fingertips? There has never been anything left to chance when it comes to those granted right of entry to Les Sanctuaire. From the minute this meeting was arranged, I have known all there is to know about you, especially. The wolves are of no consequence,” he added with a flourish. “Such instinct-driven beasts.”
Sébastien rested his elbows on the damask arms of his chair. He templed his fingers, studying Lily. “You look as though I’ve said something offensive.” A pregnant pause hung in the air between them. “I assure you, it was not my intention. We are all slaves to our natures however it has been my long experience with the children of the moon…as we call the Weres…that they lack the finesse granted to the vampire race.” He turned his eyes toward Sean. “Present company excepted, of course,” he added with a smile, inclining his head before returning his attention to Lily. “Nevertheless, on whole the Weres are still very much…human.” The last word left his mouth like it tasted of vinegar.
Lily forced a smile. “I understand.”
“Do you?” This time it was Rémy who spoke.
All eyes moved to the seat half turned toward the fire. The vampire’s face was obscured by the angle and the sloping wings of his Queen Anne chair. He stood, pivoting on his heel as if in slow motion. The urge to cringe reigned hard and fast, but Lily bit the inside of her cheek. The entire side of the vampire’s face was deformed, melted into a cascade of flesh. The glow of the fire did nothing to soften the shock, instead making him appear even more garish.
Lily looked at the floor, focusing on the wide, thick hearth rug across from her feet.
“Look at me, mademoiselle,” he demanded softly.
Lily raised her eyes slowly. He was dressed in black, tight-fitting slacks and a poet’s style shirt with a black on black brocade waistcoat. He had narrow hips and broad shoulders, but it was his shoulder length dark blonde hair that she couldn’t drag her eyes from. It caught the firelight and seemed to glow with shades of gold and copper. He must have been beautiful to behold. At the thought of what he must have endured, her heart clenched, forgetting, for a moment, the man in front of her was a bloodless, heartless killer.
The untouched side of Rémy’s face showed surprise. “My brother is correct. You are a sweet smelling anomaly. It has been many years since I’ve felt the weight of a compassionate gaze,” he said, with an upward wave of his hand. Tell me, what kind of witch are you?”
Lily shook her head, taken aback by the question. “I…I’m not a witch at all,” she blurted out, heat rushing to her cheeks as she realized she sounded like Dorothy from The Wizard of Oz.
“Au contraire, chéri. Every seer possesses a witch’s soul. Your century merely refuses to see what exists right under their noses. Humans fear what they don’t understand, and they abhor what they fear.”
Lily opened her mouth to respond, but Sean held up his hand. “Rémy, Lily is by far one of the most compassionate women I have ever encountered—her fiery temper notwithstanding. She is more warrior than witch, and she uses her gifts for strategy and the preservation of life.”
“Ha! I’ve read her mind. She’s been filled with as much hate as anger. And she is a hunter.” Etienne interjected.
Sean nodded, sending Lily’s eyebrows into her hairline. “Sean…”
He glanced at her and then directly at Sébastien. “Etienne is correct, but his assessment isn’t au fait. The operative words are in the past tense, and Lily is no longer a hunter, at least not at the present. She loves deeply, so therefore her loyalty runs deep. And we’ve all experienced how devastating loss can be, and how it fosters the need for revenge, but Sébastien, as this is all in the past, I move that we get on with the business at hand. If Etienne has truly read Lily’s mind, then he is well aware of what she has witnessed firsthand, both in live attack as well as in the residual emotional impressions left in the victims at the morgue, one of whom is a Were and the reason for this parlay.”
The other vampires nodded, leaving Sébastien to consider Sean’s words, his templed fingers pressed to his quiet lips.
“Etienne?” he questioned, but his eyes never left Lily.
The vampire sighed. “Yes, my liege. It’s true. The vampire we seek is the one responsible for the attacks. She and her progeny are still at large in the city. Our trackers have picked up her scent in central park, just as the witch’s thoughts revealed.”
“Is it as I feared?”
The room grew deathly quiet, even the fire seemed to stop crackling in the grate. Etienne bowed his head. “Yes. It is Améile.”
“I see.”
Etienne shifted his feet, drawing Sébastien’s eye. “Is there more? Tell me.”
Etienne glanced at Lily and then at Jack, his mouth twisted as if what he was about to say tasted foul. Lily felt Sean tense beside her, but knew he wouldn’t move unless they did, and she silently prayed he’d beat them to the punch.
“The witch witnessed Améile’s progeny create another vampire and then leave him to die. He was degenerating and verging on delusional, yet she refused to stake him. Instead, she asked his help, and he allowed her into his mind to garner all that he knew of Améile and the redheaded one. The young one then staked himself in his last moments of reason. He is at peace.”
Sébastien turned toward Lily, fascinated. “You are a double edged sword, my dear. Fire tempered with kindness.” His eyes swept her, and then he glanced over to Sean and Jack. “Perhaps we can learn from each other,” he offered, before tilting his head back toward Lily. “Are you certain you wish to go the way of the moon? You would make an extraordinary addition to Les Sanctuaire.”
“Haven’t you enough additions, Sébastien?”
All eyes turned toward the elegant dark-haired vampire sitting in one of the four chairs. Unlike Rémy, he chose to sit back and let Sébastien take the reins of the parlay. Until now. The unnamed adjudicator’s tone carried obvious authority, yet time seemed to stop at the question posed, despite his polite and mellifluous Spanish accent. He was the only elder seated without a guard posted at his back, and Lily noted the uncharacteristic lapse in protocol register with Sean.
“Carlos, not now.” Sébastien’s wave was offhand, but it was clear the older vampire was not pleased.
Carlos stood, muscular and fluid as he rose from the heavy chair. “This is precisely my argument. The same argument that drove Dominic to divorce himself from us, from this council. I shouldn’t be in his chair. I should be standing behind him as the others stand behind you. We are not the only beings walking this earth, Sébastien. Our powers are great, but so are our limitations. What could you possibly want from this young woman that you don’t already possess? Leave her be.”
Sébastien exhaled, but his eyes narrowed as he looked at the younger vampire. “Still championing humanity and seeking absolution for the profane existence thrust upon you, eh? A story as old as the sum total of all our centuries and just as boring. Each of us whose veins crave living blood to breathe life into the blackness that courses through them has pondered the same thing. However, unlike you we do not let it preoccupy us to the point of stagnation. You have been as absent from these chambers as Dominic, even when you are here. I relieve you of your duties hence forth.”
The room gasped even as Carlos inclined his head toward Sébastien and Remy. He turned to leave, yet paused for a moment considering Lily. “Sébastien is wrong, querida. To be a vampire one needs a core fired to a cruel intransigence.” The young vampire inhaled, letting his regard travel the length of Lily’s small frame. “You are special, of that there is no doubt. However you possess too soft a heart despite your hard exterior. The offer has been made, choose carefully. There is no turning back
.”
Lily didn’t know how to respond. Her first instinct was to cringe, but with the way the vampire’s eyes burned she didn’t dare show it. “Thank you for your kind offer, but I am content to stay as I am.”
Carlos smiled, and the sadness that clouded his eyes the entire time lifted slightly. He left through the steel reinforced door, a single nod his last salutation before the doors closed behind him.
Sébastien sighed. “Such a pity. We always welcome new blood, no pun intended,” he said, chuckling at his own joke. At a wave of his hand, Abigail pulled on a thick silken cord next to the fireplace.
“I trust you gave the correct instructions to the bartender?” he questioned her over his shoulder.
“Yes, my liege, before we descended.”
“Good. Let’s hope he sent to the correct shadow house. I am a bit peckish and in the mood for AB negative.”
Jack cautioned a look at Lily. The poor guy hadn’t said a word. It was as if he was shell-shocked, or perhaps he finally woke up and cemented that mood-o-meter of his to level calm.
“Please, Sean, do sit down. Take the chair across from my own and make yourself comfortable. I apologize for keeping you standing for so long. Abigail, send for extra chairs for the witch and Sean’s second.
“Please, sir, call me Lily. As I said before, I’m not a witch. I am an ordinary woman with one extraordinary talent.”
Four sets of red eyes turned to her, shocked, and Lily swallowed. “Was that strike three?” She whispered to Sean, and the same four sets turned back to Sébastien, his own eyes shining with amusement.
“No my dear. I find you a ray of sunshine in our dark world. As to being ordinary, I greatly doubt that. In fact, I’ll prove it. You see, we have many who are skilled amongst our undead brothers and sisters. Not only does Etienne read thoughts, but Maggie, my brother Rémy’s second, reads auras. She too was once a witch.” He held up his hand. “My apologies…psychic.” She was in truth a healer and a midwife, and one of the original accused during that unfortunate time in Salem.”
The Cursed by Blood Saga Page 40