Bloodgifted

by Tima Maria Lacoba

  Sunshine greeted me as I left the house, but not the drowsiness of the day-sleep, nor the burning pain or blistered skin that every blood drinker fears. It was the gift of the Ingenii and one that set me apart from my kind. Any other vampire would have lost their hand after just a few minutes of exposure. Sunlight was death.

  I got into my car and drove to Rozelle, to the Munro Research Laboratories, and the small private hospital attached to the facility just off Victoria Road. Several gum trees lined the entrance partially obscuring the sign. I made a mental note to get their branches trimmed as I drove around the block and entered the “Staff Only” parking area.

  Phil, the lead technician arrived at the same time. A tall, gangly man in his mid-forties, he’d given up trying to maintain the few stray hairs that clung to his scalp and shaved it all off. His bald pate shone in the morning sun as he greeted me at the entrance.

  ‘Morning boss. Good evening, was it?’ A big grin lit up his face.

  I’d forgotten I was still in the tux I’d worn last night to the Ritual—minus the jacket and bow tie, which I’d left behind at Luc’s. ‘Excellent evening. Glad it’s over though.’

  ‘Yeah. I don’t like those dress-up things. Gimme jeans and T-shirt any day.’

  I couldn’t help but agree. They were my sentiments exactly. ‘Phil, I’ve got an extra job for you,’ I said as we entered the building.

  I rarely made such requests and he gave me a quizzical look. ‘Sure. What is it?’

  I lifted the plastic bag containing the cocktail glass, from which Maris had drunk, out of my jacket pocket and handed it to him. ‘I need the DNA on this glass analysed. Fax the results to me ASAP.’ I dug my wallet out, scribbled down Luc’s fax number on my notepad and tore off the sheet. ‘At this number.’

  He took it and nodded. ‘It’ll take at least seventy-two hours, assuming this is a good sample,’ he replied and held it up.

  ‘It is.’

  ‘Skin, saliva… the whole works?’

  ‘Whatever you can get. And while you’re at it, text me the results of the LD#5 sample will you?’

  ‘On it,’ he said and disappeared through the sliding steel doors into the main lab area.

  I returned to my car and drove back to Luc’s. Along the way I stopped at a newsagent and bought the morning papers. For the next few hours I scoured every page and hoped I wouldn’t find any news about murdered children. I expected Luc’s warning to be taken seriously.

  On top of that I wondered how to protect Laura from rogue vampires and, most importantly, how to seduce her before the day was out. If I didn’t there was a good chance Sommers would persuade her to marry him and the curse would continue—and with it my servitude.

  Chapter 14

  Breakfast

  LAURA

  The persistent buzzing of my mobile phone woke me. I reached out, grabbed it from the bedside table and switched it off. What time was it? I opened one eye and checked my watch—eleven a.m. I had no idea what time I got to bed last night—or was it early this morning?—and I didn’t feel like getting up yet. Images from the Ritual mingled with my dreams and Alec dominated each one.

  I conscientiously struggled to bring Matt’s face to mind and decided to ring him, only to find he’d left me a message.

  Hi Babe, tried to ring, your phone was off. Pick u up t/nite @8. Loved Sat nite & LOVE YOU. There was a smiley attached.

  I smiled at the memory of Saturday night, put the phone down, then sat there wondering what to do first—shower, go exploring or have breakfast? If the house was anything like my room it was going to be a major expedition. It was then I realised I was still wore my silver-blue evening gown.

  Whoever had placed me in this room hadn’t bothered to remove my dress. Maybe just as well, as an image—or was it a dream?—of Alec laying me down on the bed, popped into my head. I wasn’t sure whether I should be excited by that thought or discomforted. But whichever, that man had a disturbing effect on me.

  Well I wasn’t going to think of that now. On the bedside table lay a note:

  ‘Look in the closet.’

  Attached was a map of the house with directions to the kitchen. I recognised Alec’s handwriting.

  I shook my head and smiled. He was considerate as well as charming and I wanted to see him again.

  The room was enormous. I’d slept very comfortably in an amazing four-poster, canopied bed that could have accommodated at least three people. It was covered in drapery printed with rosebuds and flowery garlands. Dark stained floors and beams gave the bedroom an old-worldly, even Tudor look. A solid chest sat at the foot of the bed while cotton rugs, in the same rosebud print as the drapes, covered the floors.

  I decided to look for the closet mentioned in the note. Slipping out of the huge bed I wandered over to one of two other closed doors in the room—the one nearest my bed. It opened to reveal the biggest walk-in wardrobe I’d ever seen, with more clothes, shoes, handbags and assorted accessories than any woman could ever use.

  I felt like Alice in Wonderland!

  I selected a pair of loose-fitting, cream silk shorts and a simple cotton blouse. There was even a matching pair of cream ankle-laced wedge-heeled sandals. I slipped them on and they fitted perfectly.

  Leaving the closet with my new clothes, I lay them on the bed and went to the other closed door adjacent to the windows. Peering in, I found my bathroom.

  At least the same size as the room I’d slept in, the bathroom had an Edwardian look. A fine, pale salmon flowery print wallpaper covered the walls and matching pie-frill edged, cotton curtains hung over the large box-window at the far end. In the centre of the room, like a regal queen, sat a luxurious two-stepped marble bath with its own shelf displaying a set of Vogue magazines, a little china bowl of pot-pourri and a wicker basket brimming with various goodies—bath bombs, coloured glass jars filled with bubble-bath and deliciously scented miniature soaps, shampoo and conditioner. There were even gold-plated tap fittings.

  The other end of the room contained a ceramic-lidded toilet and a glass-enclosed shower, while the nearby vanity boasted a marble washbasin, two thick white towels and a bathrobe hung next to the door.

  I gasped at the opulence and a long, decadent soak just beckoned.

  After lying there for nearly half an hour, covered in bubbles, my stomach began to rumble reminding me it was time for breakfast.

  I climbed out of the tub and walked over to grab one of the towels, leaving a frothy trail on the bathroom floor behind me. After getting dressed, I checked my hair and decided to let it hang long, straight and wet down my back. It would dry soon enough as the day promised to be another hot one.

  With Alec’s map in hand, I stepped into the corridor.

  Portraits lined the length of the walls, so I stopped to look at them. All showed images of men, painted at different times and in various styles. As I checked the plaques beneath each, and the dates at which they were painted, I realised these were my ancestors—Ingenii all.

  It was a gallery of Dantonvilles.

  The closer I got to the stairs, the more recent the portraits until I stood before one I recognised—my grandfather, Owen Dantonville. Next to him hung a youthful picture of my aunt Judy. She’d been beautiful and in many ways still was. Her rich dark copper hair, like mine, contrasted vividly with her lavender eyes.

  The space next to her was empty. I guessed that’s where my portrait would go one day.

  I headed down the stairs, following the directions on the map, and found the kitchen. It alone could have swallowed up my entire unit—it was the size of an industrial lab. I wondered why a vampire would need such a huge modern eatery?

  There were several refrigerators and a massive stove that would have warmed the heart of any chef. Modern laminate workbenches and ceiling to floor shelf units were stocked with crockery and the latest cooking gadgets. The floor was covered in spotless cream tiles, and rustic baskets—containing various dried herbs and flowers—were scattered a
mong a variety of breakfast stools and high-backed steel chairs. I’d noticed that most of the furnishings in the house were either glass, metal or stone. There was very little timber to be seen, except for the ceiling beams in my room and the heavily lacquered doors throughout.

  Made sense, I thought. Last thing a vampire needs around the house is the very material that could kill him.

  Alec sat at the large polished-stone table holding the morning newspaper. His cup of black coffee smelled good. He looked up as I came in.

  ‘Morning.’ He smiled.

  ‘Morning to you too.’

  ‘Slept well?’

  ‘Very well thanks, although I don’t remember my head hitting the pillow let alone how I got there.’

  ‘You were almost asleep on your feet when I carried you up.’

  ‘You carried me?’ So it hadn’t been a dream.

  ‘You look really cute when you’re asleep,’ he said with a mischievous smile.

  ‘Um… thank you for the map,’ I said, trying not to react to his comment.

  ‘You’re welcome. I thought you might need it to find your way around.’

  ‘It’d be fun to explore.’

  ‘I approve of your outfit,’ he said as he looked me up and down.

  I glanced down at my shorts and realised how short they were. Self-consciously I tugged down at the hem.

  ‘What’s to eat?’ I asked in an effort to change the subject, but regretted it almost immediately as his smile broadened and he gazed at me as if I were on the menu. I made a mental note to remember not to mention the word, food and myself in the same sentence!

  He waved his arm at the expanse of the kitchen. ‘You name it, Luc’s got it!’

  Alec rose from the table, rummaged through the cupboard directly behind him and pulled out several different cereal boxes, two French sticks, butter, strawberry jam and laid them on the table. Opening another cupboard he took out a bowl, sandwich plate and coffee mug. Finally, he strode over to one of the refrigerators, extracted a carton of milk and a glass container of fresh fruit and added them to the rest after which he sat back down and picked up his mug of coffee.

  I shook my head in amazement. ‘You know your way around. Who eats all this?’

  ‘The household staff and Luc often has Brethren guests who bring their donsangs with them.’

  That made sense. ‘Household staff? I haven’t seen anyone.’

  ‘They catered and cleaned up early this morning. Luc gave them the rest of the day off.’

  I nodded in understanding.

  ‘It’s on the stove,’ he said. He must have noticed the way I inhaled the delicious scent of his coffee

  ‘Do they know what he is?’ I asked as I poured myself a mug full.

  ‘Oh yes,’ he said nonchalantly. ‘He pays very well and some of them like to donate blood to visiting guests.’

  ‘Hummmph, learn something every day!’ I closed my eyes and sipped the delicious brew. He chuckled and I opened them to see him grinning at me.

  ‘Did I say something funny?’

  ‘Laura, you amaze me. Less than a few days ago you knew nothing of our existence and now, you’re almost blasé about it.’

  ‘I don’t know about blasé, but as of last night I’m accepting. Are you hungry?’ I asked, although I didn’t really know why. Maybe just curiosity as I remember him telling me he could go for a couple of days without feeding.

  ‘I ate last night. But if you’re offering?’ The way he looked at me, with that half-smile, made my toes curl and images of his mouth on my throat sent a delicious ripple through me. I quickly squashed it as his smile grew and he held out his hand.

  I walked toward him wondering how this was going to work and as I placed my hand in his, he pulled me onto his lap. I gasped as it was not what I expected. Alec seemed to take no notice as he wrapped one hand firmly around my waist and with the other took hold of my right wrist and gently drew it to his mouth. I felt a quick sting as his fangs pierced my skin and into my vein.

  At least this time I knew what to expect. He seemed human as I gazed at his bent head, yet here he was drinking my blood. It was surreal.

  Not knowing exactly what to do with my other hand—hold onto the back of the chair? Drape it around his wide shoulders? Was that too intimate?—I let it hover indecisively above his head till I gave in to the urge and stroked his thick black hair. It was like touching a raven’s wing—soft and silky.

  When he stopped feeding, he licked the wound and kissed the inside of my wrist. ‘Thank you,’ he said almost drunkenly and looked into my eyes.

  That other urge, the one I was warned about and experienced the previous night, surfaced and I had no will to fight. He leaned toward me, his lips so close. I lifted my chin… To my great relief, Luc and my aunt Judy entered the kitchen.

  Their appearance snapped me back to my senses. Ours was only supposed to be a platonic relationship, for both our mutual benefits. How could I face Matt if I allowed myself to develop feelings for Alec?

  I leapt off his lap like someone had shot me in the backside and ran out of there.

  Chapter 15

  History Lesson

  LAURA

  Now what? I was still hungry and there was no way I could possibly go back to that kitchen while Alec was there. He had an unnerving effect on me. Would it be this bad every time he fed from me? I had a sinking feeling it would, especially as my thoughts kept returning to him in spite of any effort I made to steer them in another direction. They came unbidden even when he wasn’t drinking my blood.

  I had a major problem.

  Desperate to shake off my confused feelings, I decided to wander through the downstairs hall and came upon another set of stone steps leading up to a half-landing from which streamed a beam of coloured watery light. It indicated a large window. Curious, I followed them up and found myself staring open-mouthed at the image of an ancient Roman soldier.

  I sat down on the topmost step and leaned my back against the wall for a better look.

  Within the confines of an exquisite lead-lined window, the soldier—whom I recognised from last night’s ceremony as Marcus Antonius—stood to attention. One hand rested on a large rectangular shield at his feet, the other held a spear. The shield carried the image of a sword flanked by two coiled serpents, whose glowing red eyes were shaped like teardrops.

  My breath caught in my chest. It was the same image as on my ring.

  Hovering on either side of Marcus were eight smaller figures in Roman military uniform. I looked closer and recognised the faces of Alec’s friends—Terens, Sam, Cal, Jake and four others I didn’t know, or hadn’t met yet.

  Hearing a slight noise behind me, I turned to see Luc coming up the stairs.

  ‘You forgot these,’ he said, and handed me half a breadstick and a fresh mug of coffee.

  I blinked and refocussed as I gratefully took the food from his hands, the window temporarily forgotten. Luc didn’t say anything. He sat down on the step next to me, leaned his back against the stone balustrade and watched me eat the breadstick. I thought I heard him murmur, ma petite, ma fille, once or twice.

  ‘Yes, that’s him. Marcus Antonius Pulcher,’ he said as I glanced again at the window. He pointed toward it. ‘Your ancestor, my Laura.’

  I stared at the image in renewed interest, barely registering the way he called me, “my” Laura.

  ‘What you see on the shield—the two serpents—represent his children, twins, a boy Lucius Antonius and a girl, Antonia.’

  I was taken aback. Kids could be difficult sometimes, but it was a bit harsh to show them as snakes. Either he was a mind reader or my face betrayed my thoughts, for he gave a faint smile. ‘The serpent was not regarded as evil among the ancients. It was seen as a symbol of immortality, for it shed its wrinkled old skin and grew a healthy new one.’

  ‘Oh.’ What woman on the planet wouldn’t want to do that, I thought.

  ‘You are directly descended from Antonia.’ He looke
d at me. ‘I was hoping I’d get the chance to tell you the story while you were here.’

  ‘Please do.’

  Luc smiled and turning back to the window, began a story that started so long ago. This was my family history. ‘It happened in Britain nearly two thousand years ago. Marcus was a Roman military commander then, and he and his men were responsible for maintaining the peace in his part of the province—protect the Roman settlers; do daily checks on the villas and act as a deterrent to northern raiders, the Picts, or Prythin as they called themselves. They were a menace, raiding Roman settlements south of Hadrian’s Wall, burning homes, destroying crops, massacring the weak and infirm and taking the rest to sell as slaves in Ireland.’

  He mentioned a people I’d never heard off. ‘I know of the Celts, but the Picts, who were they?’

  ‘The original inhabitants of the land, southern Scotland.’

  ‘Okay. Sorry I didn’t mean to interrupt.’

  ‘Not at all. It shows you’re interested.’ Luc smiled and then resumed the story. ‘On one routine patrol, Marcus and his men were themselves attacked and one of his soldiers seriously wounded, Nepos. He was sent back to the fort with Melander as escort, while Marcus and the others went in pursuit. They caught up with the raiders at a nearby village.’

  As Luc’s voice painted the scene, I felt myself drawn back all those centuries; like a silent witness to the tragedy about to unfold.

  ‘As Marcus and his men poured in they found the raiders had taken Roman captives. He intended to rescue them and kill the raiders. Unfortunately, things got out of hand as that village was home to a powerful sorceress. She wanted the Roman captives for her sacrificial rites and when that was jeopardised by Marcus and his men, she slit the prisoners’ throats.’

  I felt sick as the scene played out in my mind.

  ‘Take a drink,’ Luc suggested.

  My coffee had gone cold and I realised I’d stopped eating.