“What was it like, tasting my blood? Am I really different?”
“Amanda, I …” He ran a hand through his hair, at a loss for words. “I—”
“Maybe it was for the best that it happened last night. Maybe you won’t ever be tempted again, but it was the most erotic experience I have ever had.”
He pulled her closer. “I promise you it will never happen again.”
“How did they find out about us?”
“Ryan was donating his blood for money, and though I tried to prevent it, rumors quickly spread about the mortal with the unusual blood. Vampires are notorious gossips. Solange sent Lucien here to kill him, and he found out about you as well. He escaped me that night, but not before taking a supply of your brother’s blood with him back to Paris.”
“Who is Solange?”
Christian pulled back, taking her hand again. They walked in silence up the ornately carved stone steps of the terrace and headed south down Poets Walk. The snow-covered trees formed a white canopy over them. He had to tell her the truth.
“Solange is the child I had with Josette,” he explained, unable to meet her stare.
“The union between a vampire and a mortal. Up until a few days ago, I believed she was my daughter. I whisked her to safety when she was a little girl, and sent her to be raised by a French family leaving Paris for London. Although I always kept my distance, I still watched over her as she grew up. Then she married and had a child of her own.”
Christian was unsure of how much to tell her. He listened to her footsteps as they walked; they created a somber rhythm in the snow.
“Then in 1814, Yellow Fever raged through London. I heard a rumor that Solange was very sick. I refused to see her or do anything to save her life. Later..…she was turned and—”
“You left her to die?”
Christian stopped and met her gaze.
“Remember what I told you the other night, that you can have anything from me but immortality? You don’t want this,” he stammered as he fought to keep control of his emotions. “I would never give this to anyone, despite my love for them.”
Amanda heard the sorrow in his voice. She reached up and touched his cold cheek. “Forgive me. I wasn’t judging you. It would be an impossible decision for any parent.”
He stared down at her in silence fighting his urge to cry for so many things, the most recent being Ross’s death. He looked past her, ashamed of his actions; he needed her, yet feared his own longings.
“I thought I was doing the right thing, but I abandoned her and she hates me. I can never change that.”
“Well now that you know the truth perhaps you can tell her yourself and mend things between you both.”
He ran his hands through his hair. “It’s not that simple, Amanda. A vampire named Gaétan turned her to spite me. They returned to Paris as lovers, where they ruled until he came here last fall to finish what Antoine could not. He fueled her hatred of me and hate is a great motivator.”
“So is love, Christian. Perhaps it’s not too late for you both, despite this Gaétan fellow.”
“That fellow is here to slaughter you, Amanda.”
“He’s here now?” She glanced around her in the darkness. “He’s here to kill me?”
Christian tried to comfort her, but it was no use. She began shivering in fear. He led her back up East Park Drive toward his home.
“So why did he want to spite you?”
“I stole Josette, the woman in the painting, away from him. They had been lovers when I was the lover of one of the most powerful vampires in Paris—Gabrielle. She sired me and Michel, and she became very jealous of Josette. Gaétan was already angry with me for stealing Josette, and in their bitterness and anger they formed an alliance against us.”
He stopped again; Amanda’s mouth was hanging open. “It’s history, but unfortunately, it isn’t ancient, my love.” He gently closed her mouth, wishing he felt as cavalier as he tried to come across to her.
“So who fathered Solange if you didn’t?” Amanda finally asked as Christian hit the security keypad and opened his front door.
A cold energy brushed up against them, like opening the freezer door on a hot summer day. Michel came out of the library and shut the door behind him.
“We have to talk, mon ami.” Michel stood outside the library doors.
Christian ran his hand through his thick hair. “What is it, Michel?”
“You are not going to believe who’s here.”
Christian realized he had no idea what Michel meant by it.
“Is Solange in New York? Have you seen her?” He rushed to the window just as Michel uttered her name.
“Gabrielle is here.”
Christian stopped as if he had hit a brick wall, not sure whether he had heard his best friend correctly.
“Gabrielle?”
“She’s here, Christian. She’s in the library and she’s scared to death.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
“SHE’S WHAT?” CHRISTIAN was still not sure if he had heard Michel correctly. “She’s here? Is she alone?”
Michel grabbed him by the shoulders. “She came to the club tonight seeking asylum. All hell has broken loose in Paris.”
For Christian, Gabrielle’s presence solidified his worst fears. Letting out the breath he had not realized he was holding, he barged through the French doors with Amanda and Michel close behind. He tried to imagine her after all these centuries. Rationally, he knew she would look the same; vampires never aged, but how had she weathered the passing of time? He wondered if she still had that haughty façade coupled with exotic good looks. She had been his lover, his maker, and his enemy yet as he approached her, he could not discern which role he would see her in now.
She stood near the fireplace with the light behind her. It had been nearly three hundred years since he had seen the woman he had once loved, the woman who had turned him after taking his best friend away. Sadness, loss, and rage clouded his perception, and though her face had not changed, something about her seemed less confident and sure of herself. She was dressed entirely in black, with a mid-calf leather coat, silk pants, and high-heeled pumps. It was odd seeing her in contemporary clothing. Low-cut flowing gowns and black corsets suited her best.
As he slowly approached, he tried to comprehend the reality of her standing in his home. He was sure that the why of it would be equally devastating, but for the moment her presence rendered him speechless. He noticed Amanda out of the corner of his eye watching the two of them as if a spotlight shone down on them alone. He managed to keep his confusion off his face. Michel seemed happy to see her, or at least less guarded. Then there was Gabrielle. Was she happy to see him or still angry with him for loving Josette?
Her seductive voice broke the silence as he approached her. “It’s been a long time, Christian.”
He gracefully knelt down in front of her and bowed his head. She turned his face toward her, kissed him then nicked his lip, drawing blood. Christian slowly stood up; at his full height towering over her.
“Let me look at you.” She smiled, her fangs bared. He stepped back, having fulfilled what protocol demanded of him. He thought her dark eyes were still seductive, but cold and bottomless, just like her nature. Her once long wavy hair now fell to her shoulders in a stylish cut, and tiny diamond earrings glistened in each ear. He thought he had remembered her beauty, but his mind’s eye had distilled just how exotic and stunning she was, and despite the tumultuous history between them, Christian found her to still be one of the most beautiful women he had ever known or bedded.
“You both must be wondering why I am here.” She turned her dark gaze toward Michel as if she had just noticed him. He had taken a seat on the couch, and was half hidden in the shadows.
“Since you came here sans invitation, this is either a declaration of war or you need our help. I am betting on the latter.” Christian snapped, taking charge of his emotions again.
She forced a smile an
d Christian thought she looked like a cobra, poised and calm, yet able to strike on a moment’s notice.
“These are dark times, gentlemen. I assume Gaétan has not fulfilled his mission since she still has her head, but the question is why.”
Christian gestured for Amanda to come forward. Like Dorothy meeting the wizard. Christian watched Gabrielle drink in the frightened mortal.
“You’re the one who all the fuss is about, aren’t you?” Her gaze went from Amanda’s head down to her shoes.
“And you must be Gabrielle, the lucky woman who made these gentlemen what they are today.”
No one moved. Gabrielle folded her arms across her chest and chuckled.
“This is true.” She smiled, and the air suddenly felt more breathable.
“Why are you here Gabrielle?” Michel asked still seated.
“I came here because there is no more alliance. Gaétan has not kept his end of the bargain—”
“Which was?” Christian interrupted her.
She pointed at Amanda. “To bring back her head and thwart the possible return of you both.”
“Don’t tell me you still believe his paranoid fantasies, Gabrielle? I realize he served a purpose when I left you, but you can’t honestly tell me—”
She spoke through clenched teeth. “He killed Lucien and took the blood he stole from the mortal boy. We knew that but we could not prove it. Solange is too stupid to think beyond the latest fashions and her next conquest, so she never questioned her lover, but somehow she always manages to get them to do her dirty work.”
Her description of Solange reminded Christian of his best friend, and the nagging thought crossed his mind again. Could he have fathered her? He watched Michel watching Gabrielle. There seemed to be little animosity between them, and he wondered if he still cared about her. Christian gestured toward the couch.
She seemed to flow, not walk, to the couch where she sat down. Michel sat to her right, and Amanda sat closest to the fireplace where Christian stood.
“Where is Étienne, Gabrielle? Why isn’t he with you?”
She looked at each of them before speaking, her attention always riveted on Christian.
“Yes, is the old boy afraid to leave our beloved city?” Michel joked, smiling at her.
“I’m afraid Étienne is dead.”
“What?” Both vampires shrieked.
“He’s dead,” she repeated, her voice suddenly flat. “He was murdered.”
Christian tried to steady himself against the mantle. “Étienne murdered?”
“Oh dear God, what happened?” Michel asked staring at Christian.
The sound of the crackling fire wood cut the silence.
“Who is he?” Amanda interrupted panicked by the pain she saw in all their faces.
“He was a mortal boy who we stumbled upon in the Bois one night. He was begging for money and food,” Michel began, and then stopped. Christian picked up the tale and explained to Amanda his role as their human servant until Gabrielle turned him. Gabrielle licked her lips nervously, and with great difficulty she explained how their love affair had ended and he had returned to the catacombs.
Gabrielle spoke about staying with some friends one night and coming home to find her luxurious apartment ransacked. Rumors began to surface that Étienne had been murdered, chained in the Bois, and she knew she had to leave Paris or die at the hands of Solange and her new lover, Augustin. She described Augustin’s ruthlessness and reputation for being power-hungry. She slowly got up and handed something to Christian before he could protest.
“He would want you to have it.”
Christian opened his hand to find a silver filigree signet ring, just like the one he, Michel, and Sabin wore every day. They had them made in Paris as a token of their allegiance to one another and a way of life that was quickly disintegrating in the chaos of the Revolution. He fought back tears.
“He gave it to me when things were good between us,” she confessed, and Christian thought he heard her voice crack. Christian felt his stomach twist into a knot as he imagined Étienne burning up in a slow, painful death.
Suddenly Gabrielle was at the fireplace, standing close to Christian. “I need to speak to you alone.”
Christian’s eyes grew dark as the air shifted in the small room.
“This is not the Gaspard’s drawing room, and I am no longer beholden to you. Anything you have to say, you say in front of both of them.”
She touched his face, running her fingers over his fine features as if she were blind, yet trying to memorize them. Christian knew the games she had always played with him. She slipped her hand beneath his coat, and he felt her cold hand against his chest. Then she slid her hand lower, lingering near his groin.
“Come back home with me, Christian. We can crush her together. It can be like it once was between us—”
“Gabrielle, please!” He interrupted, stepping away from her. “New York has been our home since 1901. We stay here, remember. It was his life for our freedom, or have you forgotten our bargain?”
“Christ, won’t you forgive and forget?” Standing up on her tiptoes, she kissed him passionately. He fought not to respond to her. “We can be like we once were back in Paris.” She clung to him. “Don’t you remember what it was like for the three of us then?”
It took every ounce of his self-control not to answer her.
“Gabrielle.” He spit out her name as if it were poison on his lips. “There would not be enough time for me to adequately explain the reasons. Is that why you came here, to try to seduce me with delusions of power and bloodshed? Haven’t you had enough of both?”
“I offered you the throne, and you turned me down.” She ran a hand through his thick hair. “You were always too introspective and pragmatic, even as a young man.” She rubbed up against him. Then she took his hand and ran it over her round backside. Christian let her play her games. The quicker she tested him, the faster she would tire of him and leave them alone. It was always the same dance between them. She tried to seduce him, and he fought her with his silence.
“Why did you turn against us?” She asked, caressing his stomach and then sliding her hand lower, toward his groin. Christian stepped back.
“I never turned against you, Gabrielle. I just did not agree with your politics. Have you forgotten how many young ones you seduced and then destroyed?”
Her expression did not change, yet Christian knew she was furious with him. After all these centuries, she had never lost her passion for him. Hiding his emotions had kept him safe from her. Emotion was like blood for Gabrielle. The more you spilled, the more she wanted, until your deepest feelings, fears, and needs filled her up, fueling her.
“Michel, talk some sense into him.”
Michel stepped in to defend his best friend. “Those days are long over Gabrielle. If you want to stay alive, which I believe you do, then these games must end. We are trying to save Amanda’s life.”
Christian felt his anger growing as Gabrielle came towards Amanda. He watched her try not to show her fear as she stood up to face the all-powerful vampire.
Christian put himself between the two women. “Don’t even think about it, Gabrielle.”
“Smitten with another mortal, are you? You never learn Christian. Gaétan was right. You want her blood for yourself, don’t you? Étienne and I defended you—”
The slap echoed around the room. Gabrielle barely flinched as Christian pulled the machete from his back.
“Christian, no!” Amanda screamed. “Enough of this fighting. This won’t solve anything.”
The vampire looked into the eyes of the young woman he loved more that life itself, and saw the fear and compassion she felt for a woman that would kill her without another thought. Her humanity moved him as he slowly put the machete back in its sheath.
Christian watched Gabrielle try to regain her composure.
“You can thank her now for saving your pathetic life. Don’t you ever accuse me of being
a bloodthirsty whore like you, Gabrielle.”
Gabrielle tried to smile at Amanda though Christian knew she was rattled, yet it was impossible. Gabrielle hated mortals. It was as if she had no memory of being one.
He motioned for her to sit down. “Nothing has changed, Gabrielle, yet you said the alliance is dead. We know Gaétan is here, but he has not had a chance to strike.”
Christian reached into his coat pocket and tossed something to Michel, who opened it up. Amanda could not see what it was right away.
“I found it in the park tonight near the reservoir. It belongs to Ross,” he explained, speaking to Michel. “I also found his blood on the roof of Block House No. 1.”
“Blood?” Amanda chimed in as all three vampires turned toward her. “His disappearance has been all over the news, and he’s a suspect in the robbery at the museum. Now you’re telling me he’s been hurt?”
“He stole the sculpture, Amanda, in order to flush him out,” Michel pointed at Christian.
She met Christian’s gaze. “Amanda, Ross is dead—”
“Who are you talking about that you need to flush out?”
It was Christian who spoke up. “We all know him as Gaétan, but you know him as Thomas, the night guard at the museum.”
“I don’t understand….what? He’s my friend. How the hell do you know who he is, Christian?”
“Come and sit down before you pass out.” Gabrielle gestured to her.
Christian tried to couch an explanation in kindness. “Amanda, he’s been here since the fall. Working in the museum and becoming your friend is a part of the ruse. He came here to kill you, but the fact that you are still alive means he has decided to keep you for himself.”
“He’s been here in New York since August when he told us he would bring your head back as proof he had killed you.” Gabrielle said matter-of-factly. “Since you are still alive it leads me to believe he has other plans for you.”
“But … but he’s been with me during the day … he sometimes works day shifts. Has he been drinking my brother’s blood?”
Immortal Obsession Page 18