Pleasures Untold

by Lisa Sanchez

  “I’m sorry,” Jess said, remorse painting her face. She shook her head. “You totally don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want. I didn’t mean — ”

  “No. No, it’s okay,” I said, shaking my head. “It’s just hard…you know? Even after all this time, it’s hard to think about. But it’s okay, really. I want to tell you — there just isn’t much to say.” I grabbed a nearby throw pillow and held on for dear life, then crossed my legs in front of me and got good and comfortable. Spilling the deets could take a while.

  “Lucian was angry with my great-grandmother. Why? I don’t know. She won’t tell me. I have a few theories, but whenever I bring the subject up, she refuses to talk about it. Says it’s too painful, and that our thoughts with regard to Lucian should be about how to avoid him, not his motivations for killing.” I’d always hated her evasiveness when it came to Lucian, but didn’t want to press given how upset she’d always become. Talk about an elephant in the room situation. My great-grandma had a damn herd stomping around her house, and she stubbornly refused to set them free. Why, I had no clue.

  Jessica eyed me dubiously. “So, what are your theories? Why do you think he’s after you?”

  I shrugged. “I don’t know. Greed? Vengeance? Power maybe? My great-grandmother’s magic is strong. Hell, maybe he had a thing for her, and she shot him down. I don’t know.”

  Taylor piped in. “You haven’t mentioned anything about your father. Where is he?”

  I shook my head and sighed. “Don’t know. Never met him.” I ignored their collective moans of sympathy and kept talking. “My mom went into hiding after she found out she was pregnant with me. I remember her crying herself to sleep every night. When I was about six or so, I eavesdropped on a conversation she had with my great-grandma. She cried, said she missed him and wasn’t sure she’d made the right decision.” I shrugged. “My guess is she wanted to keep him safe from Lucian and that’s why she never contacted him, despite how much she missed him.”

  Taylor’s face fell, and she shook her head. “God, that’s sad. I’m so sorry, Martha.”

  I cast her a half-hearted smile. “It is what it is…but thanks.” It was hard to miss someone you never knew. I chucked the pillow to the floor and drew my knees into my chest.

  “So what are you going to do about Xan?” Jessica asked, staring at the bite mark on my neck warily.

  I made a pssh sound. “I’m going to avoid him like the plague until I know who I’m dealing with. I don’t know crap about him, and that scares me to death.” The fact that he knew my true name sent my head spinning. No one on the planet, save my great-grandma, and now Jess and Taylor, knew my true identity.

  “Hold up,” Taylor interrupted. “I’m confused. Didn’t you tell us vampires can’t come into your home unless invited?”

  I hugged my knees tighter and rested my chin on them. “They can’t.”

  She cast a nervous glance toward Jess, then back to me. “But Xan brought you back here after he bit you. How the hell did he get in? How does he know where you live?”

  An icy chill swept through me. It was a sick feeling. Kinda like ice water rushing through my veins, and it creeped me the hell out. “That’s exactly what I intend to find out.” I let go of my knees, leaned forward, and grabbed my book from the floor, placing it in my lap. The time for reflection was over. I needed to get to work. “This book — the Book of Light, has been in my family for over two hundred years.”

  A low whistle erupted from Taylor as she eyed the leather bound volume with extreme curiosity.

  I traced the edge of the binding with my finger. “Within these pages are detailed descriptions and information about every vampire, demon, and underworld creature the women in my family have ever come across.”

  Taylor leaned forward, peering at the book, looking a bit skeptical. “Do you think there will be something about Xan in there?”

  “That’s my hope,” I said, as I opened the aged book and held my hand over its pages. Because if there wasn’t, I didn’t know what I would do.

  Concentrating, I cast a silent spell. The time worn pages of the book shuffled rapidly, searching for any entry that made any mention of vampires. The corresponding pages then illuminated, virtually lighting up half the book. My search was turning out to be more time consuming than I’d anticipated.

  ***

  “What’s an Ansom-blah-blah?” Taylor asked while licking red and green frosting off her fingers. We’d skipped breakfast to search through the book, and subsequently, were starving. It didn’t take long to tear like a pack of starving hyenas through the Christmas cookies Jess had baked a few days before. Temporarily satisfied and floating on a sugar high, we lay sprawled out in the center of my bedroom, surrounded by blankets, pillows and a now-empty cookie tin.

  I made a face at her and downed the last of my soda. “Asanbosam,” I said. “It’s an iron-toothed vampire, and it’s not what we’re looking for.”

  Taylor blanched and scrunched up her nose. “Eww!”

  “Iron toothed? As if the existence of vampires weren’t bizarre enough,” Jessica said, a hint of sarcasm in her voice. “Let me get this straight. Not only do I have to fear regular blood-sucking demons, but I need to be wary of iron-toothed suckers as well?”

  I mashed my lips together in a frown before nodding and adding, “Yep. There’s also vampiric spirits that manifest themselves as floating heads complete with trailing intestines, zombies, and — ”

  “Stop!” Jess waved her hand through the air and scrunched up her face. “I don’t want to hear any more, thank you. There are just too many. We’ll never find him in here.”

  My heart ached listening to her words. I wanted to keep a positive attitude, but I was beginning to get a bit discouraged myself. We’d gone through over three quarters of the illuminated pages and hadn’t found diddly as far as Xan was concerned. Shmexy Bartender Vamp remained a damn friggin’ mystery.

  I refocused on the task at hand, turned the page and froze. My lungs seized up, and my throat closed, making it impossible to do necessary things, like breathe. Staring back at me from the worn page of the book was a terrifying likeness of Lucian Gagné — my arch-nemesis.

  Long, white-blond hair framed a face that could only be described as severe. With a high forehead, prominent cheekbones and a regal chin, he looked like a character straight out of the Renaissance. Oh, wait…what was I thinking? Undead bloodsucker was old. The Black Plague was probably his doing. Evil bastard. Even on paper, his narrow, blue eyes seemed to pierce through me, rendering me immobile. My stomach churned again and the palms of my hands grew sweaty. I knew I’d come across his entry sooner or later, and even though I’d seen him once before as a child, his image sent a wave of terror through me, chilling me to the bone.

  Jessica scooted forward with a frown. “Martha. What is it? Why are you…oh,” she broke off, eyes wide. “So this is him?” She pointed toward the hideous likeness of my enemy. “This is Lucian?”

  Nodding, I pushed the book away from me. I glanced down at my aching chest, expecting to see a giant gaping hole where my heart once was. God. After all this time, the pain of my mother’s loss still tore through me like a freight train. It never lessened. Never eased up.

  My stomach churned, threatening to toss the handful of cookies I’d downed earlier.

  Jessica pulled the book from where it lay in front of me and began reading.

  I rolled over, needing a minute to pull myself together, and pressed the heels of my hands into my eyes. Lucian’s face, the vivid memory of him tearing into my mother’s throat, was burned into my psyche like a brand I couldn’t rid myself of. Desperate, I shook my head, trying to rid myself of the god-awful memories threatening to pull me under.

  Jessica groaned in disgust. “This guy is ultra creepy, for sure. Listen to this…The most evil of all the blood drinkers, Lucian Gagné is the un
mitigated spawn of Satan. A powerful warlock before he was turned, Lucian preys upon those with magical abilities, draining not only their precious life force, but their powers as well.”

  “Shit,” Taylor said.

  “Shit is right,” I heard Jessica say before continuing on. “Lucian is said to have a fondness for dark, voodoo magicks and necromancy.”

  “What’s necromancy?” Taylor asked.

  I didn’t bother to move, and just answered her from where I lay. “Re-animation of the dead. He makes zombies and uses them to do his dirty work.” Damn, dirty bastard!

  “Ewww!”

  “Huh,” Jessica said. “There’s a small notation on the bottom of the page. It’s written in a different hand, and it’s in bold lettering. It says: The father fears none but the son. Do you know what that means?”

  “Not a damn clue,” I said, rubbing my temples in a vain attempt to rid myself of the killer headache throbbing through my skull. My life felt like it was spiraling out of control. Xan, Lucian, the recent attacks. I couldn’t shake the feeling things were going to get monumentally worse before they got better.

  As I lay on the floor, a nagging sensation flickered in the back of my mind, just out of reach. Something important. God. What is it? I know something. I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and that’s when it hit me. Whammo! Necromancy. Lucian uses necromancy…

  “Wait!” I sat bolt upright, my brain trying desperately to put two and two together. “Zombies.”

  Jessica leaned forward, urging me on with her eyes. “Uh-huh. What about zombies?”

  The answer hit me like a line drive straight between the eyes. Lucian used necromancy to create zombies. Xan and I were attacked by zombies last night. Holy hell. Lucian was the big bad. How had I not put two and two together before? Oh yeah…tired and wigged out over the Xan situation, I had the mental agility of a soap dish this morning. The room took on a vicious spin.

  “Martha, you’re turning blue! Breathe!” Taylor shouted.

  I gasped, forcing myself to breathe. I had no control over myself. Fear and anger rushed through my body, the sudden surge of adrenaline causing my limbs to shake and my teeth to clatter. Lucian was near. The creature I feared the most. The monster I’d vowed to destroy. He was finally within my reach.

  “It was him,” I said, my voice shaky. “Lucian was the one who sent the zombies after Xan and me. He’s here.”

  Chapter 8

  “Food! So…hungry…must…eat…now.” Taylor threw her arm across her forehead and collapsed backward onto the floor where she sat. Drama queen!

  “Ha ha, very funny,” I said, rolling my eyes. “I get it. You’re hungry. That’s fine. We’ve been looking through the book for a while now. Let’s take a break.” It wasn’t like we were making any progress in our search for information about Xan. We’d gone through every entry that had anything to do with vampires and hadn’t come up with squat.

  Xan, beautiful creature that he was, remained an enigma.

  A collective sigh of relief filled the room, and Taylor shot up off the floor with a triumphant smile. “I need to take a quick shower, and then we can jet. I’m thinking Uncle Yu’s. That sound okay to you guys?”

  My stomach barked and grumbled in response to her suggestion. Kung Pao chicken sounded mighty fine, and my mouth watered in anticipation.

  “I’m always up for Chinese. And yes, please, shower,” Jessica said as she hauled herself up. “You’ve got a serious case of anime-hair going on.”

  With a mock gasp of shock, Taylor flipped her the bird and fled the scene.

  “Anime-hair?” I asked, confused. While I considered myself proficient in the fine art of slang usage, I’d yet to hear that little gem.

  Jess snorted as she stepped through the doorway on her way to her own room. “Did you, or did you not, get a good look at her hair? It stuck out in all directions, defying not only gravity but every shape known to man.”

  “Bitch!” I heard Taylor yell from down the hallway.

  I fought back a giggle. Jess was always good for a bit of comedy relief, and I needed it right about then. “See you in a few,” I said.

  “You know…” Taylor popped back in the doorway seconds later. “Maybe we’re looking in the wrong place. What if Xan isn’t a vampire?” She hesitated for a minute before she turned and closed the door behind her, leaving me alone to my thoughts.

  Heaving myself off the floor, I crawled onto my bed and sat cross-legged in the center of a heaping mound of sheet and blankets. Without Jess and Taylor to distract me, thoughts of all the crap that had happened came rushing back in. My head swam with too much information, and I wasn’t sure how to slow it down so I could concentrate. So much had happened in the span of a few short hours, and I struggled to maintain control. I needed to get some answers. How the hell did Xan know my true identity? And why, after the many chances he’d had prior, did he decide to take a bite out of me last night?

  Even more pressing was the revelation that Lucian was most likely behind the attacks that had been taking place recently. I’d been waiting for the opportunity to face off with him for years, and now that the chance to throw down with him was here, I felt an overwhelming sense of inadequacy. Sure, I had a lot of power, but nothing along the lines of what he possessed, and nothing dark or sinister, either. It wasn’t like I could raise an army of undead monsters to take him out. I’d never so much as dabbled in the dark arts, and didn’t want to start. Defeating Lucian was going to take a lot of planning, and I wasn’t sure where to begin.

  Slow and steady wins the race…

  First on my agenda was staking out the warehouse I’d seen Deanna duck into before the zombies attacked us. If I knew what I was dealing with, it would be easier for me to hatch a plan.

  Of course, there was still the issue of Xan. Who was he really? Where did he come from? Why couldn’t I find anything on him in the book? Maybe Taylor had been right. Maybe he was something else altogether. But what?

  “So, Xan…” I whispered to myself, hugging my knees into my chest. “If you’re not a vampire, then what exactly are you?”

  “I suppose it’s time I answered some questions for you.”

  Holy…I launched myself backward with a breathy, garbled scream. With my arms outstretched and my back flush against the wall, I looked up to see Xan, standing in the center of the room. Oh, my Lord. Even dressed in a pair of worn jeans and a T-shirt he looked good enough to eat. The early morning sun shone through the window illuminating his deeply tanned skin. The warm glow gave him an almost angelic quality. I seethed. More than likely he was the angel of death, sent to torture me with his seraphic good looks before smiting me down. How long had he been standing there? How did he get in? It was daytime! How was he not bursting into flames?

  His expression was serious. “Carino, I — ” He took a step forward, but I cut him off.

  “Stop right there, buddy,” I shouted, and threw my hands up, placing a magical barrier between us. I knew he’d be able to cross it, just as he did in the alley behind Fire and Ice, but it would stall him, and all I needed were a few seconds.

  Wasting no time, I put my magic to work. The lid shot off the trunk that sat at the foot of my bed, sending a set of ancient Scottish dirks circa 1700 shooting up into the air. The medieval daggers flew through the room at light-speed and surrounded him. One false move on his part and I’d make sure he ended up a pile of sushi.

  Xan didn’t seem impressed or phased in the least. “You might want to put away the Ginsu knives before someone gets hurt.” He stood with his arms crossed in front of him, his lips pressed into a grim line. His normally warm caramel eyes darkened to a rich chocolate color, and held an overall mask of seriousness.

  Brother was a few screams short of an orgasm if he thought I’d put my weapons away just because he’d asked nicely. I scowled at him. “How the hell did
you get in here? What are you?” My body shook with a mixture of fear, rage and, much to my utter disgust, desire. Geez, I was one fucked up bitch. Even after he’d betrayed my trust, my body felt the same undeniable pull toward him. I reached up, tracing my fingers lightly over the puncture marks in my neck. Fire coursed through my veins as I remembered the lingering high I floated on after he’d fed from me.

  Stupid, hormonal body.

  “There’s much we need to talk about, Ainsley. Put your weapons away.” He gave me a pointed look, and I got his message loud and clear: Grow up, put your toys away, and listen.

  “No.” I knew I was outmatched when it came to him and was loath to give up anything that might help me protect myself. The knives stayed where they were — floating midair, pointed straight at him.

  He cast me another wordless message: Two can play this game, chica. He inhaled through his nose and blew it out forcefully. “Very well, then. Don’t say I didn’t warn you. ” He waved his hand in a circular motion, the ancient daggers disappearing with a flash of light.

  Damn him and the magical wave he rode in on.

  Panic welled in my gut as he stepped through the invisible barrier I had put up. I fought against my body’s natural response to him. Part of me secretly wanted him to ravish me, while the rest of me was scared to death of what he might do. I wasn’t going to let him know how frightened I was, despite my traitorous heartbeat thundering away in my chest. With my chin held up in defiance, in a shaky voice, I spoke. “Those daggers have been in my family for hundreds of years. Bring them back.”

  His eyes narrowed. “Forget the knives, Ainsley. Lucian is near. We need to get you out of here.”

  I wasn’t sure what I expected from him, but it surely wasn’t that. “What?” Not only did he know who I was, he knew about Lucian as well. Who the hell was this guy?

  The sexy vamp must have been smoking crack if he thought he could pop into my room after sinking his fangs into me, and then expect me to take off with him. “Why would I go anywhere with you?” I glared at him, unable to tear my eyes off his god-like face, and mentally cursed myself for being attracted to him. For all I knew he was about to go vascular with me again, and my body didn’t care. Heat, coupled with a desperate ache, deep in my center, muddled all rational thought. I wanted his hands on me — his fangs deep in my vein, his hard —