The Forsaken

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The Forsaken Page 8

by Laura Thalassa


  I could see him reveling in the sight of my skin and the solid thump of my heartbeat.

  “You are beautiful, soulmate, for all those things that no one ever notices.”

  My throat constricted.

  Andre brushed a chaste kiss across my cheekbone. Just as he drew away, his body stiffened.

  “Andre?”

  He sighed as air escaped his lungs, and then an unnatural stillness took over his body. My eyes searched for a window, seeking out the rising sun, but the only source of light in the tomb was the flickering flame.

  My body was tugging me towards sleep, but my mind still raced. So much had happened to us over the last several days. Most bad, but some good.

  A cool draft of air gusted through the crypt, blowing out the candle and throwing the room into darkness. I shivered. Andre’s cold arms still encircled me, but his presence here was gone.

  “Hello, consort.”

  Chapter 8

  The devil’s breath moved the hair near my ear. If I turned, I probably would’ve brushed his lips.

  Choking on my fear, I sat up. The darkness was absolute, and the only sentient thing in the crypt with me was the lord of the Underworld.

  “Little bird, I can hear your fragile heart pattering away. It will give out soon, do you know this?” His words skittered over my skin.

  “Go away,” I whispered, my eyes wildly searching the blackness for him.

  “Once you are queen, you will not fear me.”

  Terror lodged itself in my throat, and I swallowed, trying to tamp it down. “I thought you wanted me to fear you?”

  Phantom fingers trailed up my forearms, drawing the hairs to attention. The touch was oddly sensual. “I lied.”

  My skin crawled. “You’re lying now.”

  The air shifted and I heard his hollow laugh. It echoed throughout the chamber. “And precisely how would you know that?”

  My words hadn’t angered him like they once might’ve. Odd.

  “Come away with me,” he said.

  Next to me I heard Andre stir, like he was trying to rouse himself from the hold of the sun.

  “Leave me alone. Please.” Was he trying to smoke me out? If so, it was working. I was eyeing the mausoleum’s stone door, wondering how long I’d survive out in the sun now that I was more vampire than human. Even if the elements couldn’t kill me, someone would find me soon. Then I’d die.

  The devil was an evil genius.

  “I enjoy tormenting you far too much to ever leave you alone.”

  “I thought you said you didn’t want me to fear—”

  “It was a joke.”

  “Oh.” Were we really having a conversation? One based on something other than threats? My heart continued to race at the possibility. It seemed like a fragile sort of peace. One that could only last for a few more minutes—if that.

  “You’ve always known this was supposed to happen?” I asked. I didn’t need to clarify what I was asking.

  “Always.” The word stroked my skin.

  “Why would you want a consort?” I asked the darkness. My voice still trembled from his nearness. He might not be threatening me, and he might not be corporeal right now, but he was the devil.

  The air shivered. “Come with me and find out.”

  I stared into the abyss; I could feel his eyes watching me. “I will never willingly join you.”

  The silence that fell over me was ominous.

  “You mortals are so full of promises you can’t keep,” the devil hissed. “You’ll vow one thing today and rescind it tomorrow. Once you join me, that fickleness will fade.”

  The devil’s chill no longer seeped deep into my bones, and that worried me because it should’ve. His presence should be carving up my soul. But it wasn’t.

  “What makes you think I’ll be joining you at all?”

  If darkness could smile, then it just did.

  “There are many things that haven’t yet come to pass, but there is one vow I can make you: willing or not, you will join me in hell as my consort. Of all things, that is a certainty.”

  Andre’s touch woke me.

  His fingertips glided down the side of my face and trailed down the curve of my arm. Only in the blackness of the crypt with the devil’s presence a vivid memory, I recoiled from it.

  I could practically feel Andre’s frown through our connection. Even as my body weakened, the link between us had strengthened.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked.

  Only everything.

  “Bad dream,” I lied.

  “Vampires don’t dream.”

  “And I’m not yet—”

  Andre cut off my response with a sigh. “I can smell your dishonesty, soulmate.”

  Well crap, there went that excuse.

  A hand fell on my shoulder and squeezed. “I will not mine you for the truth. Tell it to me on your own time.”

  He stepped away from me then and moved to the doorway. Only once some space separated us was I able to breathe freely again. I didn’t want to mention the devil’s visits because voicing them worried Andre and made this all the more real.

  Andre propped the crypt’s door open, and pale moonlight filtered in. My night vision amplified, and suddenly I could see again.

  While I began to fold up the sheets of our bed, Andre dug through the bag. He pulled out several clothing items from it and handed two of them to me. It was a leather bustier and a matching jacket.

  Very vampire chic.

  I scrunched my nose. “Do I have to wear this?”

  “No,” Andre said, shrugging off his shredded jacket. I watched the bunched muscle beneath it move.

  I glanced back down at the clothing in my hands, flustered from something as simple as watching his body. It wasn’t as though I hadn’t seen him in less. Maybe it was because I felt so achingly close to throwing all care to the wind and finishing here what we’d started a couple nights ago.

  “You are embarrassed,” Andre said.

  I glanced up, realizing with horror that even in the dark he could literally sniff out my emotions.

  “Not embarrassed,” I said. “Just … overwhelmed by you,” I admitted.

  “As I am by you,” he said, lifting his ruined shirt over his head. Even with the dim lighting I could make out all the areas where the material had been shredded. Areas where he’d been stabbed by the centaurs’ spears. “You don’t need to fight it. I am your soulmate. I like it that I can affect you this way.”

  My gaze dropped to his naked torso, my chest rising and falling. Unlike his shirt, his broad expanse of chest was unblemished, save for some smears of dried blood where he’d briefly bled before his skin healed over.

  His words sounded like a dare to me, and dammit, I gotten this far in life being a baddie! I wasn’t going to stop being one now.

  I grabbed the edge of my torn shirt and worked it over my head, uncovering my bra and my pale skin. I stayed like that for only a moment, and then I reached behind me and unsnapped my bra, exposing myself to him.

  Andre stilled and his muscles tensed. He hadn’t yet put a shirt on, and in that moment it was unclear whether more clothes would be added or subtracted to the equation.

  I breathed in the intoxicating smell that rolled off Andre. It was impossible not to in the small confines.

  I held up the corset he’d given me. “Will you help me put it on?” I asked.

  He prowled over to me by way of answer. Taking the bustier from my hands, he wrapped it around my torso and began hooking it together down the front. His fingers brushed the skin between my breasts, but like the gentleman he was trying to be, he didn’t pay them any extra attention. I wish he had.

  Once he finished, his hands lingered at my hips. “It might not be the most comfortable outfit, but the leather will offer you the most protection.”

  Uh huh. Like that was the real reason why a freaking corset was today’s casual wear. I probably would’ve kicked up a fuss, except that it was impossible t
o focus with him this close.

  I placed a hand on his chest, and my thumb moved over the dried blood, rubbing it away. I concentrated on the tan skin in front of me, pulled taut over muscle.

  Beneath my touch, he shuddered. I glanced up at him, only to see his eyes closed and a small smile dancing along his lips.

  Gently he removed my hand, giving it a squeeze as he opened his eyes. “I’m trying to show some self-restraint,” he said, “but with you it’s a lot harder than it should be.”

  “I thought you said that you didn’t need to fight it.”

  A low, pained groan came out of him. “I said that you didn’t need to fight it. I, however, …” He ran a hand through his hair. “I’m trying to take things at a pace you’re comfortable with, and it’s taking every last ounce of control I have.”

  He turned from me then and crouched next to our bag. Rummaging through it, he pulled out a blood bag and a protein bar. “Eat up,” he said, handing them to me. “You’ll need your energy today.”

  I stared down at the two items. It was a sad day when the blood held more appeal for me than the human food. I gave the protein bar back to him.

  Andre pushed it back towards me. “Drink the blood first, then see if your appetite returns.”

  I did so, but it pained me to admit as I finished drinking the liquid that not even the blood held much allure for me today.

  Before I could think too much on it, I tore open the protein bar and had a few bites. When my stomach didn’t immediately try to upchuck it, I ate more. Eventually I managed to polish the thing off, though I felt a little queasy.

  “What about you?” I asked, shoving the wrappers into the bag. Apparently the anti-Christ didn’t litter, which made everyone who else did a bunch of royal D-bags. “Aren’t you going to … have breakfast?”

  “I’m saving the blood bags for you.”

  I stared at him, aghast. “But you also need to feed.”

  “I did last night, if you remember,” he said. “I’m in no danger of starving.” But you are. Those words went unspoken, but I still heard them. Both of us had noticed my diminished appetite.

  It had only taken days for me to lose most of my human hungers. I worried that my vampire ones would go just as quickly. The body could only continue so long without food and water. If I stopped drinking blood, I’d have only days to live.

  If that.

  Chapter 9

  “Now tell me again how exactly this place factors into our great escape?” I gazed at club Bleu from the shadows as I covertly picked out the world’s worst wedgie. Leather.

  “You’ll see,” Andre said, being cryptic for the five millionth time in the last two days. My hands were itching to shake him until he spilled his secrets—seers be damned.

  He took my hand. “C’mon.”

  I tried not to stare at my surroundings as we crossed the street, but it was impossible not to when human sized windows showcased scantily clad men and women. I’d read about Amsterdam’s Red Light District, but reading was different from seeing.

  Way different.

  Andre strode towards Bleu, his hand tugging mine when I lagged behind. I felt all sorts of exposed walking out in the open like this. Even this late into the evening, the streets were crowded, which meant that someone would inevitably recognize me. Especially if we partied it up inside one of Andre’s swanky supernatural clubs, which I was assuming this was.

  After slipping out of the crypt, we’d driven for a couple hours until we’d entered Amsterdam. And now we were here, at a nightclub, and I was sure I had the remnants of vomit, blood, and corpse dust clinging to me.

  As the line of people waiting outside the club caught sight of Andre, they began to scream excitedly. I’d been through so much with him that it took me a moment to remember that in addition to being old as dirt and the king of vampires, he was also an international celebrity. Maybe it was the swagger or the face that promised danger, but he always, always had this effect on crowds that recognized him.

  However, as soon as Andre’s fan club caught sight of me, the atmosphere shifted. The crowd went from screaming to silent. I could smell their fear, their excitement, their lust.

  I was the anti-Christ, and I was walking in their midst.

  Andre ignored it all, maneuvering us through the throng of people towards the club’s entrance. If he was worried that one of them would attack me, he didn’t show it. Just as I’d gone from scared teenager to otherworldly abomination, Andre had gone from affectionate soulmate to a seven-hundred-year-old king.

  One of the bouncers glanced from Andre to me. I could smell his growing fear and his righteous anger. Beneath that was a thread of desire that the siren always seemed to coax out.

  The bouncer ripped his gaze from me. He hesitated, then, seeming to gather courage, spoke. “I’m sorry, Andre,” he said in English, his Dutch accent pronounced, “but we cannot let her inside.”

  I was sure being told no by an employee was a first.

  Andre’s eyes flashed and he squared his jaw, about ready to bark out an order or, worse, maim the dude like he had Tybalt. Before he got the chance, I placed my hand on the bouncer’s forearm.

  My skin began to glow. “Evening.” I smiled.

  The bouncer’s eyes widened as my glamour ensnared him. A moment ago he might’ve yanked his hand away, but now his glassy eyes watched mine, enthralled.

  “You’ll let us in, and then you’ll forget about this.” As I spoke, I felt someone behind me reach out and touch me, drawn in by the effects of second-hand glamour.

  The bouncer blinked a few times, then jolted, like he’d been caught with his pants down. “Fuck, sorry for the hold up, Andre,” the bouncer said. He reached for the rope and unhooked it for us.

  Andre raised an eyebrow at me as he pressed a hand to the small of my back, ready to lead me inside.

  “Wait.” I turned to the waiting crowd. Flashes of light came from camera phones. “You will delete all evidence of our presence, and you will remember only that a celebrity passed through.”

  Cameras were lowered and murmurs traveled through the line of eager partygoers.

  I swiveled back to Andre. He pulled me close so that his nose and mouth were buried in my raven-dark hair. “You definitely came back a little more wicked.” It was the same thing he’d said when we were on his jet, right before shit had hit the fan. He’d been referring to my time at Bran Castle.

  I absently rubbed my throat, remembering how it had been slit. I’d been dead for a short period of time, and then I had some real one-on-one time with the devil. I suppressed the thought that, if caught, I might soon face more one-on-one time with him.

  I forced a smile, determined to not let my fears drag me down. “Don’t be jealous that you don’t have mad skills like I do,” I said.

  Andre glanced down at me, raising an eyebrow as he propelled us into the club. “Soulmate, you have not even begun to see my mad skills.” The pitch of his voice made it clear exactly what skills he was referring to.

  My skin flickered a little brighter. Well played, Andre. Well played.

  We pushed through the crowd, and people stopped and stared. “Uh, Andre, how are we supposed to get out of here unseen again?” I asked, eyeing them.

  His mouth pressed into a tight line. “We’re not.”

  Startled by his words, I stopped walking, only to have him nudge me forward.

  “Relax, soulmate, this is my club, my domain. I would not bring you here only to see you hurt.” As we passed the bar, he leaned down so that his lips brushed against my ears. “I promise.”

  I cleared my throat. Even in a crowded room, Andre’s nearness had me flustered. “So, why, exactly are we here again?”

  “Supply gathering.”

  He was still being cryptic, but at least he’d given me more information than he had so far.

  Andre led us to the club’s backrooms and knocked on one of the doors. I could hear a feminine voice murmuring on the other side. W
hen it became clear the woman wasn’t going to answer the door, Andre yanked on the handle. Metal snapped and the door swung open.

  Inside a woman with glittering skin leaned back in a chair, a cellphone pressed to her ear and her feet propped up on the desk.

  “Hey—” The woman’s voice cut off when she caught sight of us. She dropped the phone and shot to her feet. “Andre, holy shit, I had no idea you were …” Her voice died away when she saw me. “Gabrielle Fiori?” Her brows pulled together. “What’s going on?” She glanced back at Andre.

  “I need a favor, Ophelia.”

  She whistled, her gaze finding mine again. “You know how we work. Highest bidder ultimately wins.”

  It was about then that I realized she was a fairy. Like Oliver, only way less cool because … Oliver. ’Nuff said.

  She eyed me. “And I seriously doubt you could provide me something big enough to hide her from those that wish to know.”

  “All my current club holdings in the Netherlands, Belgium, Germany, and Denmark are yours from this day forward,” Andre said. “That’s my final offer.”

  Her eyes widened, then a smile lit her face. “I think I can work something out.”

  “No, Ophelia. I need a hard answer on this. Either you take it, or you don’t.”

  She must’ve realized that an offer like this didn’t come around too often because she nodded. “I’ll take it. What do you want from me?”

  “I need that seer’s shroud of yours.”

  I gave Andre a strange look. Seer’s shroud?

  Ophelia was already shaking her head. “I bartered mine away a long time ago.”

  I saw the hope die from Andre’s eyes. I had the horrible suspicion that we were now screwed.

  “Wait, Andre—” Ophelia reached out and grabbed his forearm. “I know of a sorceress in Austria who can produce what you seek.”

  “We do not have the means to travel to Austria.”

 

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