Cursed

by Rebecca Trynes

  The silence stretched until Knox, the easygoing son of a bitch, started to tell her a story about when he met Al Capone. She listened with rapt attention and Greyvian spent the entire time watching her face; mesmerised by the multitude of expressions that flitted across her features, the easy smile that lifted the corners of her mouth.

  God, that mouth. The honeyed warmth inside. Her soft, soft lips. The ever so slight taste of her blood after she had cut her tongue on his teeth… An unwelcome erection stretched painfully against the tight enclosure of his leather pants and his incisors punched painfully into his lower lip. God, that taste… it had only been a hint, but it had almost been his undoing.

  Anger followed desire. Damn her for making him feel this way.

  Completely oblivious to the turmoil of his thoughts, Sienna yawned, looking utterly relaxed and sleepy. Looking at her watch, her eyes widened.

  “Oh, God, no wonder I’m so tired,” she mused, looking at each of them. “Do vampires sleep?”

  Knox laughed shortly; the sound grating on Greyvian’s already frayed nerves. “Yes, we sleep. And not in a coffin, during the day. I told you, we’re more like a human than not. But, perhaps we are a little cliché, as we do tend to prefer the night.”

  Sienna shook her head in sleepy amusement and gave the blonde instructions on where he could find extra blankets, telling him that the couch he was sitting on converted into a bed if he was interested. With a final wave, she wandered off into the hallway and out of sight, taking the full strength of her scent with her.

  Strangely, he felt bereft now that she was gone. It was as if she’d taken all the life out of the room with her. He drew in a deep breath, hoping to catch a stronger sense of her scent, but it was so weak now in comparison to when she’d been sitting next to him that it might as well have not existed.

  In comparison, Knox breathed out a sigh of relief and seemed to visibly relax, melting down further on the couch into a boneless slouch.

  “Is it just me, or does it seem easier to breathe now?” the blonde asked his son with a wry smile.

  Lucas nodded in agreement and rubbed his mouth as if his teeth were aching. “I’m almost tempted to step out and visit Isabelle for a spell just to put my teeth to use, if nothing else.”

  Knox grinned in concurrence. “Maybe you could invite her to the cafe downstairs and we could both have a bite to eat?”

  Irritated beyond measure, Greyvian got to his feet and headed for the hallway. He could practically feel the blonde’s suspicious gaze boring a hole through the back of his head, but the male didn’t say anything as to his direction—after all, the bathroom was this way and vampires had to pee just as much as a human did.

  In fact, it really was his intention to go straight to the lavatory, but as he passed a slightly open doorway Sienna’s scent hit him like the proverbial tonne of bricks, causing him to halt. Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes and revelled in the way his senses came alive in its presence. Every sound seemed clearer, every smell was crisper, the feel of his clothing against his skin almost painful. The throbbing erection in his pants was definitely painful, the flesh pulling sideways against the snug leather.

  He let it stay that way as he turned his head to peer into Sienna’s room. The thin sliver of light filtering through her doorway was more than enough for him to see her lying soundly in her bed, her eyes closed, breathing steady. She looked so peaceful, so innocent. To think, he had come so close to ending her life. Twice.

  He was so lost in the sight of her sleeping form that he didn’t hear Knox come into the hallway behind him until the blonde spoke.

  “Grey, man, you good?”

  Greyvian clenched his jaw to keep the curse that was on the tip of his tongue from escaping.

  “Are we gonna have a problem? Cause I’m growing quite fond of the female and would hate if something happened to her.”

  Keeping his mouth shut, he counted to ten and hoped the male would go away.

  “Seriously, Grey. You need to stop obsessing over her.”

  That did it. He turned abruptly and stared the blonde down. “What the hell would you know about it?” he hissed, keeping his voice quiet so as not to wake the female. “You’ve probably never been hungry a day in your life, let alone felt the kind of agony starvation can bring. You, with your feeding partners at your beck and call, waiting around until you get peckish and get around to having a nibble. Well, I don’t have that luxury.”

  Knox stared at him in shock, apparently speechless for once in his life. Furious that he had said anything at all, Greyvian slashed his hand and spun around, retreating to the bathroom; in effect, fleeing from the blonde.

  * * *

  Knox stared in the direction Greyvian had gone, totally stunned. So the male wasn’t quite the automaton he’d always thought him to be. Sure, he’d gotten a glimpse or two since Sienna had started making waves, but this was the cherry on top.

  It was hard to reconcile the Greyvian he’d known for the past century with this new volatile male with black eyes. It seemed to him almost as if he’d stepped into Alice’s Wonderland, where up was down and down was up. Where humans were Aware and smelled better than anything he’d ever caught scent of in his life, and vampires who were previously emotionless were now seething with rage.

  Had Greyvian always hidden his emotions behind an iron-hard facade of diffidence, or was emotion a new thing for the guy? He cast his mind back to the first time he’d met the male to see if he could find any clues in the memory.

  The cave was cold and dark, not the kind of place he would expect a fellow vampire to be living, but the male he had come to see was not your average vampire. Greyvian, the human killer; the only vampire in existence who required the blood of humans in order to thrive. He’d been hearing about and reading the stories ever since his transition, but he’d always taken them for fiction. That was, until he’d gone and impregnated a female and been given the gift of a son. A son who was going to have to go through the transition that had almost killed him.

  There was no way in hell he was going to allow his son to suffer in the same way—and with only a twenty-five percent chance of survival—if there was anything he could do about it. Ever since Lucas’s birth, he had been searching for a method to improve their chances of survival, but it wasn’t until the latest stories on Greyvian that he had actually given the male serious thought. Did he really exist? If so, why did he require human blood? More importantly, could that be of help during transition?

  If they were human before the change, then wouldn’t a human-blood-drinking vampire be a certain method of survival? It was definitely worth the effort of finding the elusive male.

  Making his way through the long, narrow corridor of the cave, he held his glowing torch behind himself so as not to impede his vision with the bright glow. He wanted to be ready when he finally came upon the male, as he knew not what the reaction to intrusion would be. Especially an intrusion by one such as he.

  “Are you lost?” echoed an ethereal voice from the darkness beyond.

  With a start, Knox managed not to drop his torch. He’d had no idea that Greyvian was near. Normally there was some indication of a living being nearby, some small noise, some sense of a presence, but not this time. Not with this male. Clearing his throat, he hoped for the best. “Forgive me for the intrusion, but if you are the male that I seek, I would ask a boon of thee.”

  Nothing. The other vampire was silent. The only sound Knox could hear was his own harsh breathing and the crackling of his torch as he waited.

  “What boon?” came the final reply, the voice inflectionless, ghostly in its lack of emotion or interest.

  Knox cleared his throat once again, nervous before the unseen presence. In his fifty or so years alive he couldn’t remember ever feeling quite this uneasy. “I would ask that you provide assistance when my son transitions.”

  The silence was longer this time. So long that he wondered if maybe the male had left the cave by
some back passage he didn’t know about. Without a sound to announce his movements, a tall male with long dark hair suddenly appeared in the glow of the torch.

  His face was beautiful, angelic even, but that was where the resemblance to an angel ended. The male’s light eyes were utterly devoid of anything resembling emotion—a cold abyss that left Knox with a bone-deep chill.

  Greyvian took a deep breath, nostrils flaring. “Half-breed.”

  Knox searched the male’s face for any sign of aggression, but Greyvian’s expression had not changed in the slightest since appearing. Either the male was stating the obvious that his son was a half-breed, or somehow, through scent alone, Greyvian knew Knox’s lineage. Whatever the reason, he felt that honesty was his best course of action.

  “We are,” he replied simply and waited.

  “What assistance do you think I could provide?”

  “I have a theory that perchance your blood may be the key to increased survival.”

  Greyvian’s light, colourless eyes appraised him for a long moment, distantly thoughtful but betraying no emotion one way or another. “Is that so?” the male finally replied, giving nothing away through his tone of voice.

  “Please! I barely survived my transition. I do not want that for my son.”

  The full-blood looked deep into his eyes, and still, no emotion crossed his face. Knox could see that he was mulling it over, but it seemed to be a completely detached flow of thought, a cold intelligence that seemed to be weighing the pros and cons of the situation without a trace of empathy.

  “How close to transition is he?”

  Feeling a flutter of hope, Knox tried to keep his voice steady as he replied, “No more than a week.”

  “You have left your supplication to the last moment.” There was no surprise or disapproval in the male’s voice; it was simply a question without inflection. A mere statement of fact even?

  “You are a hard male to find, Greyvian. It has taken me five years.”

  “Hmmm,” the full-blood mused, seeming to think it over.

  Knox waited, his heart in his throat.

  “Very well. I shall provide assistance.”

  Knox was stunned. “For certain? But I have offered nothing in return.”

  “What is your name, half-breed?”

  Oh, no! He hoped he had not offended the full-blood and caused him to change his mind; although, he could not tell from Greyvian’s tone of voice if he had caused offence.

  “It’s Knox, Sir, ah, Greyvian, Sir.” How did the male prefer to be addressed?

  “Well, Knox, fear not. I desire nothing in return, for I desire nothing at all.”

  Nothing? Surely not? But on the other hand, the male did live in a cave.

  “Then why would you help a half-breed?” The question was out of his mouth before he could think better of it.

  There was a moment of silence where he feared that the full-blood had changed his mind, but then the male said in his completely inflectionless voice, “I have my reasons.”

  To this day, Knox had no idea what those reasons were. Greyvian had helped dozens of half-breeds transition and had never asked any of them for a single favour in return. The male was giving certain life to others, and yet, he asked for nothing. It had remained a source of curiosity for Knox, but, as yet, he was no closer to an answer than he had been a century ago. For the longest time, he had simply put it down to the full-blood’s lack of emotion. Greyvian helped half-breeds because they asked and the male could see no reason, or felt no cause, to deny them the help.

  But now he wasn’t so sure. Perhaps there was a deeper drive to the male than he ever would have thought possible. If Greyvian did feel emotion, then perhaps he felt remorse for the countless human lives that he had taken over the past centuries and continued to take to this very day. Perhaps that was what drove him to help.

  At that moment, Greyvian came out of the bathroom, his eyes still black as death and about as warm. Okay, perhaps he was fishing? Looking for humanity where there was none?

  “You still here?” Greyvian muttered, his previous anger hidden behind the icy surface of his black stare.

  Knox shrugged, unable to think of a convenient excuse as to his lingering presence. Sure, he could say he was looking after Sienna’s wellbeing, but that wasn’t one hundred percent true. Still, Greyvian didn’t have to know that.

  “I’m going out,” the full-blood said, not even glancing into Sienna’s room as he brushed past. “I won’t be far.”

  Knox frowned and followed Greyvian with his eyes. The male was so hot and cold lately. Was it just Sienna that was affecting him or was it something else? Perhaps it was the knowledge that he had a son? That he would be passing his curse on to another vampire?

  Mulling the thought over, he strolled back into the lounge room and sank down onto the couch beside Lucas.

  “Do you think there’s any truth to the rumours that Greyvian is insane?” Knox asked his son after a moment.

  Lucas raised an eyebrow in a way that asked are you insane?

  “Seriously,” he said, thinking about it. “The male has been killing humans for three centuries straight and has never given any indication that he cares or intends to stop. And he spent the first sixteen years of his life in a state of constant starvation. That’s got to mess with your head, right?”

  Lucas, ever the logical thinker, pointed out an important fact that he was overlooking. “Allegedly. Those stories have never been confirmed.”

  “You’re saying you don’t think he kills humans?”

  Lucas shrugged. “I’m just saying that we don’t know everything there is to know—or really anything, come to think of it. It’s not like either of us has ever seen the male feed.”

  “True enough. But if he does kill them? Do you think he feels any remorse? Do you think he feels anything at all?”

  His son thought it over in his quiet way, the keen intelligence in his eyes obvious to anyone who thought to look. “Before today I would have said no, but now....?”

  Now, indeed. Now things were different. Now Greyvian was a bit of a live-wire. Unpredictable, emotional for the first time in forever. Now he was really interesting.

  6

  Breathe, Greyvian. Just breathe.

  Leaning his head back against the hard brick of the building, he closed his eyes and tried to will himself back to normal. It wasn’t working. He could feel the emotions inside of him bubbling and boiling, the inner turmoil quickly becoming more than he could bear. He felt hot, his palms sweaty, his skin itchy. Like a drug addict jonesing for his next fix. He couldn’t bear to be away from Sienna. The absence of her scent made him uneasy beyond measure.

  Breathe, Greyvian. Breathe.

  He drew in a lungful of crisp night air, but it did nothing to calm him. His teeth ached from the constant up and down they’d been doing since he’d met the female and it seemed as if his veins were on fire with longing. Right now there was nothing he wanted more than to go back upstairs, sink his fangs into the smooth skin of Sienna’s neck, and drain her of every last delicious drop of blood.

  His breath went in and out too quickly, his chest constricting with the need for oxygen. Christ, now he was hyperventilating. What the hell was wrong with him?

  He needed to feed. That would make it all better, surely.

  Opening his eyes, he tried to lose focus and let his second sight pick his victim, but it wasn’t working. He couldn’t relax, couldn’t concentrate. His entire world was going up in flames and he was helpless to stop it.

  As his heart beat a mile a minute and his chest heaved with each constricted breath, the dark city streets started to swing wildly from side to side as if he were on a boat in the middle of a stormy ocean. Stomach rolling with nausea, hands clenched into fists, he struggled to remain where he was standing, struggled to keep himself from flying up to the apartment and ending his misery once and for all.

  Just when he thought he was about to lose it completely, the an
swer to his conundrum appeared as if he had called them out of the ether. Immediately, his breathing slowed and his senses focused outward as he felt a familiar pressure in his skull, a tightening in his frontal lobe that signalled the arrival of another vampire; two of them, in fact. Looking to his right, he spotted them. One was tall, maybe six foot three, the other shorter. Both were blondes. Both were on alert, looking for him in return.

  When they finally spotted him, they slowed, cautious, as they tried to determine if he were friend or foe. Stepping away from the building, Greyvian stopped in the middle of the footpath, facing them.

  The shorter of the two turned his face slightly to the other and spoke so quietly that Greyvian almost couldn’t hear him.

  Almost.

  “If I’m not mistaken, I think that’s Greyvian Kobussen.”

  The taller one raised a sceptical eyebrow. “Isn’t he just a legend?”

  The shorter shook his head. “No. John-lee had a run-in with him a few years ago, he’s real enough, believe me. I had to help him heal. Besides, look at him. He’s the spitting image of his father.”

  The tall one looked at Greyvian speculatively. “He’s a bit more attractive, actually.”

  The short one snorted a laugh. “Don’t let Kobus here you say that.”

  Greyvian felt an odd ache at the mention of his father’s name.

  “Do you think he really drinks human blood?” the tall one asked, still talking quietly, thinking Greyvian couldn’t hear.

  Feeling reckless, Greyvian grinned at them in reply. “I do, and it’s delicious,” he said, keeping his gaze on the shorter of the two. If anyone was going to back away from this, it would be him, and he needed the male to commit to violence. He needed to be freed from this agony, Jacob be damned.

  “Fuck, you could hear us?” the taller one asked, shocked stupid—although that didn’t seem such a stretch for the guy.