Shauna froze. “How could you possibly know what I was thinking?”
“Because, I’m telling you the truth.”
Her face completely drained of its color.
“I can prove it.” Ascher closed his eyes and levitated into the air, hovering for a couple of seconds. “Is this real enough for you?”
The breath caught in her throat.
He lowered himself down to the floor. “If I were human could I do that? Could I read your mind?”
* * * *
Shauna thought of the movies she’d seen and the books she’d studied about mythical beings. She wanted an explanation for the strange eyes and countless other abnormalities that existed around him. This couldn’t be it. Her body slumped to the floor, his falling beside her. “Vampires are supposed to have fangs. You don’t.”
“I do have fangs. They’re very sharp. They only come out when my mood shifts suddenly.”
“Mood shifts?”
“When I’m angry, thirsty—aroused.”
“Vampires don’t eat. They drink blood, and I’ve seen you eat.”
“But you haven’t seen me bring it back up. If I allowed food to digest in my body, it could make me very sick. We have no need for food. We only need—we only need blood to survive.”
Realization sparked in her brain. “That’s why you rarely eat.”
He nodded. “Ursula and I were to seal. It was an arranged union. A very old vampire predicted it. He was wrong. When I met you, I knew he was wrong.”
She placed a hand on his face. “Ursula is one, isn’t she?”
He nodded again.
“All your brothers—Kara.”
“Each and every one.”
“Your father looks like he’s in his forties.”
“That’s an illusion—only in the opposite of a youthful appearance. He uses hair dye and makeup to look older. Father was twenty-four when he was reborn into immortal life. My grandfather, Andreas Rousseau, was a great French physician born in 1593 in Clichy, France. He married and had five children. The oldest was Jonas. In 1636, Andreas was reborn into immortality. His first son, Jonas, was reborn in 1646. Nobody knows who turned Andreas, but we do know that he turned his son.”
Her face changed. “How old…”
“He was three hundred and ninety on the twelfth of February.”
She sucked in more air.
“Because Rousseau males are turned by their own father, we’re said to have the purest blood of any immortal. It’s like the royals marrying within the bloodline to keep it pure. The Rousseaus are pedigrees, so to speak.”
“Like pure bred puppies.”
“Father always told me that the most glorious part of death is the rebirth. His own father turns every first son of the Rousseau clan before his twenty-fifth birthday. This is necessary to continue the immortal bloodline. Each first son also has mortal children, before his turning, to further the mortal bloodline.”
“Why the twenty-fifth birthday?”
“The blood is said to change after that time, become less tolerable to the shift. Andreas was forty-three when he was turned. That was much too late, and he went mad before he was murdered.”
“Murdered?” She cupped her mouth with shock.
“Murdered,” he repeated. “Andreas became bored with France and decided to come to America. He brought his son, Jonas, and his grandson, Gabriel, with him to the new world. He’d heard that there was a colony of settlers needing physicians. The colony was in Salem, Massachusetts. The colonists were convinced that demons were amongst them and that an illness was sweeping their new paradise.” Ascher paused as if pained by the old story he knew so well.
“Ash,” Shauna whispered while smoothing her hands across his sad face. “If it’s too difficult for you to talk about—”
“No, sweetheart.” He let out a sigh of utter relief. “You have no idea how good it feels to finally tell you this.” He pulled her into his lap, stroking the length of her hair with his fingers. “Andreas kept journals of what he saw. The situation was dire, the horror unimaginable. They stoned and hanged nineteen men and women at Gallows Hill. More were jailed under the suspicion of being witches.”
Shauna challenged him. “I studied the witch trials. There was never a mention of anyone by that name or anyone having ever been burned.”
“There wouldn’t be. They covered up what happened to my grandfather. It was undocumented and never spoke of again. I doubt the family would know if my father and brother hadn’t witnessed it for themselves. A young indentured servant, Arijah Covington, accused him of being something sinister. She’d noticed his pale skin and icy touch. One night, her master saw Andreas levitating himself in the woods. They seized and subsequently burned him at the stake.”
Shauna snuggled her face into the crook of his shoulder.
“The things he was capable of frightened them, so they burned his body to assure his death. He cursed the town of Salem with his last breath, while blessing each and every of his bloodline. Jonas and Gabriel gathered his remains into an urn. His ashes burned blood red with his fury, and stones were fashioned from his crimson remains. They now rest in amulets like this one.” He pulled his shirt back, showing her his necklace again.
Shauna sensed that the necklace was more than just a family heirloom. The more he talked, the more things came together. She ran her hand across the amulet again, and this time he didn’t seem frustrated.
“I don’t need this to go out into the sun, but my brothers do. For most immortals, it’s impossible to walk amongst humans in the daylight hours. The amulets protect them from the sun. Otherwise, they’d be forced to sequester themselves indoors all day, or risk burning to death.”
“Burning to death,” she repeated the phrase but with a grave undertone present in her voice. Her eyes glistened with moisture, an audible lump forming in her throat. “What are the other ways an immortal can die?”
“Dismemberment, starvation, pure silver and fire,” he answered in a frank and matter-of-fact tone.
Shauna paused to let it sink in, caught her breath and let it rush out with her words. “So, they’re brothers but not in the literal sense?”
“Most of us share a direct blood line. There are a few exceptions, but we all share a secret truth that binds us.”
“Quinn, how old is he?”
“He was born in 1820. He was reborn in 1843. He was the first son of Richard.”
“Tristan and Gabe?”
“Gabe is father’s first born son. He was born in 1640 and his rebirth came in 1664. Tristan’s story is more involved.”
Shauna’s head whirled, but she was glad to have answers to her suspicions. “Go on,” she encouraged.
“Quinn found Tristan in a hospital ward, dying. Back then, hospitals were less of the medical saviors that they are today. They were overcrowded gateways to death and charities ran them mostly. People endured surgeries without anesthesia and if you were lucky enough to survive the surgery, infection would surely take you out. Tristan was dying of consumption. I think modern day people call it tuberculosis. Rather than let him die a horrid death, Quinn changed him in 1876.”
“Gabe is your half-brother. What about your mother?”
“I’ve never talked to anyone outside of my family about her.”
“It’s okay if you can’t talk about it.”
“No, I want you to know everything, so that there are no more secrets between us. My mother was a most beautiful and proper English woman named Beatrice. She and my father met when he was working on a special project. They fell in love, despite their differences.” He paused, giving her a look of reverie.
“What is it?”
“Nothing really. I was just thinking about a conversation I had with my father recently. He doesn’t speak of his emotions very much, especially the ones concerning my mother, but he was very forthcoming that night. He loved her so very much.” Ascher gazed into Shauna’s wondering eyes. “Much as I love you.” He p
aused, giving her that gorgeous smile that always melted her heart. “It’s kinda nice to know that I was conceived and born out of such love.”
He seemed so vulnerable, in that moment, as his face leaned into the cup of her hand. Curling her fingertips along his pale cheek, she stared at him processing all that he’d told her. “You’re loved, Ascher, and not just by me.”
Closing his eyes, he pulled her back to him, resting his face against hers. “Things were a lot different in 1921. People weren’t as open-minded as they are now. She died after my birth. The strain of delivering a half human, half vampire child was too much for her body. Father took a big risk revealing to her what he was. Most vampires think that humans are better off not knowing that they share the world with us. I want you to know me, the real me. I just got you back, and I don’t want lies between us.”
When he paused, Shauna looked directly into his eyes.
“The first time I saw you, I knew you were special. I’ve wanted to tell you about me so many times. I had to wait until I could be sure about you. You don’t know how relieved I am to finally have this off my chest.”
She stared into his eyes and saw the sincerity of his words. “I don’t know, Ascher. This is all too much to fathom—I’m so confused. My brain has never worked right. Maybe, I’ve finally lost it!”
“No, you’re not crazy, but I am. I can’t stop thinking about you. I tried to ignore my feelings for you, knowing the grief being in love with me would cause you. I tried to forget the emotions when we were apart, knowing that you’d move on without me. I can’t do any of that anymore.”
“Ash, don’t—”
Ascher looked saddened and his expression was full of misery. “Wanting you has cost me the love of my brother. It may cost me my life, but I don’t care. I’ll gladly forfeit my life for yours. If it meant that you’d be safe, I’d throw myself upon a thousand silver spikes and die a thousand deaths. I love you, Shauna. I can’t help it, and I can’t stop myself. I’m in love with you and there’s nothing I can do about it.”
Shauna felt a pain filled tightening in her chest as his mouth moved and words came out—unbelievable words. This awful truth made things clearer. She gazed into his eyes and couldn’t deny what she was seeing—love, fear, devotion and sacrifice all rolled into one. She smoothed a shaky hand across his face as he leaned in for a kiss. She tangled her body with his, indulging in the sweetness of his lips.
A thousand tingles gripped her body as the heartache melted into a new reality. He still wanted her. He was in love with her. There were no more secrets, no more lies, just him, his warm embrace and most importantly—the truth.
She kissed him even more deeply. If she suffocated in his arms with her lips pressed to his, it would be a good way to go. He was hers and it was too much to comprehend. Shauna released a long gasp and fell limp in his arms.
* * * *
“Shauna, Shauna!”
Ascher never thought of her as one who might faint. He placed his hand over her heart, and stared at her unmoving body and peaceful face. A glimpse into her mind revealed various images of his face in her subconscious.
Her eyes fluttered as she squirmed about in his arms. They sprang open, peering into his with perplexity. “What happened?”
“It’s okay, sweetheart. You’re still at the mansion with me. You passed out after I told you a lot. I guess it was too much. Do you remember anything that I said?”
Her face was blank until a spark of intuition blazed in her eyes. “You’re not human.”
Ascher sighed, because part of him wanted her to remember, so that there would be no secrets between them. Another part, wanted to remain an ordinary man in her eyes. “Yes, that’s right. How do you feel about that?”
“It doesn’t matter to me.”
“I don’t believe it. I don’t know what I expected, but this isn’t it.”
“It doesn’t change how I feel about you. I do have more questions.”
“And I’ll answer every one.”
She raised herself up. “I must seem like a weak little human to you.”
“Shauna, you’ve never been anything but strong, since the day I met you.” He stared into her bewildered eyes. “I need to show you something.”
Thirteen ~ Project Progeny
They walked down along two flights of back stairs, ending in the basement. He seemed more at ease, less stressed out, but she still sensed the tiniest bit of apprehension. She imagined it would be hard to hold in all of the information he’d kept a secret.
Ascher paused outside of an infirmary.
It was a real replica of a hospital room—complete with three beds, nightstands and divider screens. A wall of medical journals and thick anthologies were displayed along an adjacent back wall, a dark wood bookshelf their captor. The items in a dust-proof case were antique medical instruments, and some of them resembled instruments of torture. She’d seen some of the same items at a natural history museum exhibit about turn of the century medicine.
“Vampires have need for an infirmary?”
“War is an unfortunate part of being immortal. Sometimes, a vampire needs treatment.” A dark emotion passed across his face. “Sometimes, they don’t make it.” His face morphed into a grin, surprising her at how quickly his demeanor could change. “You’re blocking me. Why?” He ran a soothing hand down her face. “The detective is already on the case and being briefed by my father. The guys and I plan to leave in two days.”
“No, it’s not that,” she whispered. “Have you ever needed treatment?”
“I was fortunate to be born during a peaceful period. The last century has been uneventful. I don’t know how long this trend will last, though.” His face was suddenly worried. “I didn’t bring you down here to show you the infirmary. If you’re going to understand me, you have to see what I am and how I started. So, I brought you here because you need to see this…”
The room darkened.
Pitch black rendered her eyesight useless while heightening her other senses. She’d always heard that the blind possessed unparalleled senses of touch, taste, smell and hearing. She was getting a lesson on what it was to be blind, and her perceptions intensified. The cool dry taste of the sterile air burned at her tongue, while his sweeter scent equalized the sharpness of the antiseptic air. The darkness made her realize how much the room mimicked the germ-free cleanliness of a hospital environment.
The touch of his hand was different in the dark, warmer and the thudding pulse more evident in his wrist. Sparks of electricity prickled her skin, covering her in goose bumps. Shauna’s heart synchronized with his, picking up its rhythm, pulsing out a nervous drumbeat inside her chest. His heart thundered, but his breathing remained calm and barely noticeable.
The sound of a generator started, providing a constant source of background noise. A silvery light flooded the room as the back-up power supply engaged. She startled, as the eerie light bleached his complexion, giving his face a washed out aura.
“Sorry if that scared you,” he whispered, his pale eyes flickering against the harsh light. “The back-up always comes on when someone steps over here. It’s part of the initiation sequence.” Ascher waved his hand over a copper bust and a keypad appeared from a slot in the wall. Rapping several strokes on the keyboard, he paused.
All of this suddenly felt like an action movie to Shauna, complete with gadgets and secret codes. A beam of green light flashed at his eyes while an overhead voice announced, “Good evening, Ascher.”
The wall of books shifted to the right, exposing a dark corridor. He pulled her along, clutching her hand so tightly it numbed in response.
“Ash—my hand.”
His grip loosened. “Sorry. Now, I don’t want you to be afraid. There is absolutely nothing to be frightened of, but if you're serious about wanting me, you need to know everything about me.”
Something about the way he said 'everything' made her stomach swarm with nerves. What he had to show her couldn’t
be that bad—could it?
Another eye scan and they entered a lab, complete with beakers, microscopes, colorful solutions and Jonas Rousseau. He glanced up, gave her a welcoming smile and went back to his work.
“Father is a geneticist, and Gabriel is a chemist. The two of them have been working on a serum comprised of my blood. When properly configured, this serum could be the cure for many of the diseases that humans face. Imagine a world free of cancer, diabetes, autism, all of the things that plague the modern day world.”
“And that can be accomplished with your blood?”
“It’s possible if they can turn off certain receptors—the ones that are dangerous to humans.”
“Dangerous?”
“Genetics aren’t really my thing. Maybe my father should explain it to you.”
Ascher pushed her hesitant body towards an empty stool beside his father.
Jonas looked up from the microscope in front of him, flashing another warm smile. “Hello, my dear. I’m assuming Ascher has told you about us.”
Shauna nodded, too overwhelmed to speak a word.
“I know it’s a lot to take in, but you’re still here. That’s the most important thing. I want you to see something.”
Jonas shifted the microscope over to her, placing a slide on the stage. She squinted, glancing down into the eyepiece. It was blurry and she couldn’t see much. An icy presence brushed her hand making her jump then shiver.
“Sorry about that.” Jonas let out nervous laughter. “We aren’t as warm as Ascher.” A quick turn of the focus and everything became crystal clear. “You’re looking at a slide of human blood.”
She glared at the clusters of red globules. “I’ve never been one for science. I hated the dissecting in biology.”
Jonas laughed. “It’s not for everyone, I assure you. Isn’t it lovely?”
“What?”
“The cells,” he practically sang. It was obvious that he loved what he did. “They move, twirl and dance about, performing the remarkable opera of life. They manage to live and die instantaneously while living and dying, existing together unimpeded by one another. Much like Ascher.”
The Progeny (The Progeny Series) Page 14