“Damien Delanciennes, what have you done?” Damien seems to shrink down at the booming voice. I turn to the speaker, an attractive, slightly older version of Damien. This man must be his father, as he has no older brothers. He’s intimidating, and is dressed in extremely elegant black and red clothing that has a certain older feeling, as though from another era.
His blonde hair brushes his collar, curling slightly at the ends. He’s clean shaven, revealing his square jaw and strong chin. Despite wearing several layers, he’s obviously rather muscular, and at least as tall as Damien, perhaps an inch or so taller. It’s from him that Damien has inherited his blue eyes and olive skin.
I stare at him, knowing, in the pit of my stomach, that I’ve seen him before. But where? And how could I possibly forget meeting someone this good looking?
“Answer me, Damien,” he says, looking stern. “What did you do? I have told you I will not aid you with this again.” I look from Damien, to his father, to Shawn, completely confused, and more than a little irritated.
Damien answers, head bowed. “I have not forgotten your words, Father. But that is not why we are here. My refusal to listen to reason has landed me in an awkward position, and we are here to rectify the situation. It is time for Elysabeth to know the truth, to understand what she is to me.”
“Really, Cucciolo?” His mother pulls him close and hugs him. “I am so happy for you.” His father merely raises an eyebrow. She’s happy for him? Well, that makes one of us.
“It seems we have much to discuss,” says Mr. Delanciennes. “I think we had all best retire to the library.”
My ire and confusion forgotten, at least for the moment, I eagerly catch up to him, my enthusiasm evident in my wide smile. “You have your own library, Sir?”
He looks down at me with a smile. It’s warm, and makes him entirely less frightening. “Indeed we do, Miss Elysabeth.”
I stop dead in my tracks. I know I’ve heard that form of address before, and in that voice.
“Elysabeth?”
I ignore Damien. “Sir, forgive me, but I swear we’ve met before.”
Mr. Delanciennes has a brief look of surprise before glaring at his son. There’s obviously something major going on. “Miss Elysabeth, as I said before, we have much to discuss.”
“Okay. But please, call me Lys.”
“Very well, Lys. Please, all of you, follow me.”
CHAPTER 16
I follow directly behind Mr. Delanciennes, down a corridor lined with paintings of all types until we reach the library. I stall at the door, looking around me in awe at the vast amount of knowledge stored in the room. Now I know how Belle felt when she was shown the Beast’s library.
There are bookshelves lining the walls, of course. But there are also rows of bookshelves with an aisle in the center, like you would find in a real library. They are all a rich cherry wood, and the floor is a well-polished oak. Some of the freestanding bookshelves support arches that curve over the center aisle and hold yet more books. I eye a few tomes that have interesting titles.
Shawn laughs and gives me a shove. “Perhaps the library wasn’t the best idea, Sir. You may never get her out of here.”
Mr. Delanciennes laughs, a big, deep, booming laugh that seems to reach right to my soul and warm it. It reminds me of how Damien’s laugh can make my entire day better. Well, it used to. I continue perusing the library until I feel a hand at my elbow.
“Elysabeth,” Damien says quietly. “I think you had best come sit. My father is not exactly a patient man.”
I turn, startled, to look at everyone seated and eyeing me expectantly. I blush at having kept them all waiting.
“Um, right. Sorry. In case you haven’t gathered, I really like to read. So, what’s this all about? What am I missing out on? And Shawn, if you know what’s going on, not to sound mean, but why are you still here? You obviously don’t need to hear this revelation.”
Shawn grins. “True, but you may want me to take you home, and in case you get angry, I’ll consider myself damage control.”
“You expect me to get angry?” That doesn’t bode well for this conversation.
“I know how much you love being kept in the dark.” He rolls his eyes at me.
“Hmm . . . good point. Thanks, Shawnie.” I smile at him then turn my attention back to Damien and his parents. Mr. Delanciennes casts a glare at his son then clears his throat and begins to speak.
“Lys, what, exactly, has my son told you about us?”
“I’m assuming you mean about all of you, his family.” He nods. “Not much, really. Just that you, Sir, serve as an ambassador among rich and powerful families on several continents, and that he has three younger brothers and two younger sisters. I think that’s about it. He’s always reticent when families are mentioned, and I didn’t want to pry.”
Mr. Delanciennes shakes his head. “Then I am afraid we have much to tell you. For whatever reason, my son has chosen to leave out some very important facts. These are even more important considering you are his Chosen.”
“Pardon?” My mind flits back to the dream I’d had a couple of weeks ago. I remember what it means to be a Chosen. But that’s silly. Vampires don’t exist. This is reality, and that had merely been a dream.
Mr. Delanciennes shakes his head. “All in good time. Other facts must be revealed first. Let us start with the most basic. Damien, this should come from you.”
“Very well, Father.” Damien stands and walks over to my chair. He crouches in front of me and takes my hands. It takes all of my self-control to not pull them away. “Elysabeth,” he takes a deep breath. “I told you I have needed to explain something to you.” I nod, impatient to know what’s going on. “I waited because I was afraid. I cannot lose you. You are the only woman for me. But my delay has hurt you, and I must tell you something of the utmost importance. Please, Chérie, keep an open mind. Think of the wonderful times we have spent together.”
“Damien, just tell me whatever needs to be said,” I say impatiently.
“Forgive me. I want you to be able to accept myself and my family as we are. And we, that is to say, my family and I, are . . . we are . . . vampires.” He watches me, warily, as though expecting me to explode.
I stare at him as my heart races with excitement. Damien’s a vampire! My birthday wish came true! No, Lys, think about it. Vampires don’t exist. I pull my hands from his grasp, cheeks burning with embarrassment. I can’t lose my grip on reality. Vampires don’t exist. Vampires DON’T exist. Remember that, Lys.
Are you quite certain about that?
Great, now even my intuition has turned traitor. What is Damien playing at?
“Vampires, really? Oh, and I’m your Chosen. This is rich.” I shove at him, anger building again, causing him to fall backwards and away from me. “You know, this is a poor excuse for a joke.” I stand and stare down at him, injecting as much disgust in my voice as possible. Anything to keep him from knowing how much he’s hurting me. “This is how you’re going to explain your behavior earlier? I suppose next you’re going to tell me you were drinking that slut’s blood.”
He looks confused. “Well, yes, but—”
“Save it.” I whirl around to face my now ex-best friend. “And Shawn, you too? You know how I feel about this. How could you?” I storm out of the library, walking quickly toward what I hope is the front door. Damien calls for me, and I can hear hurried footsteps, but I then hear Shawn stop him.
I blink quickly. I won’t give any of them the satisfaction of seeing my tears. Everything had been going so well before today. Maybe I’ll wake up and find that this has been a bad dream. Relieved to have found it, I push open the front door and collapse on the steps leading up to the porch.
Despite my anger and embarrassment, I have questions that I can’t answer. How had Damien and his father known about my dream? I don’t remember telling anyone, not even Shawn. This is really bizarre.
And why would Shawn do this? He must hav
e been the one to tell them, but he and Damien are hardly close. Shawn has only recently warmed to Damien’s presence. Why would they ever work together to do something this cruel? And to include Damien’s parents?
The door opens behind me and I know, instinctively, who it is. “What now, Damien? Come to poke some more fun at me?” I drop my head into my arms so I don’t have to look at him.
“No, Elysabeth,” His voice is quiet, soft. “I would never make fun of you in any way that causes you distress. You are mistaken. I was entirely serious.”
“Uh, huh, and I’m a queen,” I mumble into my arms. “Vampires don’t exist, Damien.” Despite how much I desperately want them to.
“Elysabeth, Shawn explained why you are angry. I assure you, I do not jest, nor have you gone crazy. We do exist, as you have hoped.” He pauses, then continues, sounding annoyed. “And I must say, it bothers me that you would nullify my entire species’ existence.”
Blood rushes to my cheeks again. Could this day get any worse? “Shawn told you? I can’t believe he would do that! He promised to take my secret to the grave!”
“Elysabeth, there is nothing wrong with your interest. Especially as you have found an entire family of vampires.” He takes a deep breath. “I will admit, today has been an unmitigated disaster. But I can make it better.” His voice gets quieter as he pleads with me. “Let me show you the truth. Let me prove my words to you. Let me fix this, Chérie, please.”
Curious, I lift my head to look at him. He stands behind me, obviously nervous to come closer. The pain and despair in his voice is evident, and tears at the pieces of my broken heart.
“Fine, amaze me.”
Damien sits on the steps next to me, facing me, with one leg bent in front of him to keep him steady. “Shawn told me it is ironic that you had not told me, of all people. He has a point. If I had known of your wishes and desires, I could have told you much earlier and saved us all of this heartache.” He starts speaking faster, and I almost smile at him babbling in nervousness. “Although, I suppose I should have known, considering some of your comments these past months. I suppose I was too fearful of your reaction to put the pieces together.” He shakes his head. “But I digress. I truly am a vampire, and I can think of only one way to prove it.” He takes a deep breath, then opens his mouth slightly.
I can see his top lip being pressed out, getting fuller, and his eyes get darker. I recognize the appearance from what I saw at the club. After a moment, he opens his mouth wider, into a smile of sorts, baring fangs.
I gasp, holding up my hands to hide my growing delight. He’s a real vampire?!? Oh, holy mother, I’ve been imagining things for too long. I’ve finally completely blurred the lines between reality and fantasy. Damien, of course, misunderstands my reaction. He quickly closes his mouth with a pained expression.
“I apologize; I did not mean to frighten you.”
I shake my head slowly. “You didn’t, I . . . I just can’t believe it.” My mind is telling me that logically, this makes no sense. After all, vampires don’t exist. How many times have I repeated that mantra over the years?
But there’s also a portion that tells me to throw logic out the window and consider the evidence right in front of me. To embrace the miracle, I’ve been handed and not ask questions. But is this real? I pinch myself hard and flinch at the pain. Definitely not a dream, then. But how can I be sure I’ve not just gone off the deep end? I know there’s one sure fire way to prove it to myself. “Damien, bite me.”
“What?” His jaw drops.
“Bite me,” I repeat, determined. “Your fangs could be fake.” He gives me a withering stare. I shrug, aiming for nonchalance. He can’t know how important it is for me to know the truth. “I don’t know. But a bite would be definite proof. Here.” I hold out my wrist.
His eyes are locked on my wrist, probably eyeing a vein, and he licks his lips. “I . . . I do not think I should.”
“Come on, really. It’s okay.” I shove my wrist out further. His eyes flick to mine, nervously, probably trying to gauge my sincerity. I’m reminded of a kid who’s been told to take as much candy as he wants, and isn’t sure it’s okay. Just when he reaches for my arm, his father appears at his side and stops him. Where did he come from?
Damien draws back quickly.
“Damien,” he says, expression stern. “You cannot take from her until she knows the repercussions.”
I drop my arm, feeling suddenly exposed, like we’d been caught making out, or having sex. “There are repercussions?”
“Oh, yes, ma petite. Come along. We have so much more to discuss.” I follow him back to the library.
“Was I right?” Shawn looks at Mr. Delanciennes expectantly.
“You were indeed, Mr . . . ”
“Dooley, but Shawn is fine.”
Mr. Delanciennes nods. “Very well, Shawn. Thank you for suggesting I go out to check on them.”
Shawn glares at Damien. “Dude, you can’t get dental with her yet, even if she wants it. It sounds like there’s a lot she should understand first.”
Damien looks ashamed, and I feel the tiniest flair of pity for him. Before Mr. Delanciennes launches into his story, I turn to Shawn and apologize for my outburst. He shrugs it off. As ever, we’re okay. Mr. Delanciennes looks at Damien, who nods for him to go ahead.
“Very well, as my son has not seen fit to tell you anything,” he gives Damien another stern look. “I suppose I had best start at the beginning. Approximately six thousand years ago, when humans were first forming civilizations, they worshipped two goddesses above all others, Nyx and Diasta, the Goddesses of Night and Day, respectively.” Nyx and Diasta? My dream was real? I cut him off.
“Wait, I know this. Nyx and Diasta created vampires as revenge upon the humans for stopping their worship.” The three vampires look at each other, amazed. “I had a dream about it. I was Nyx.” I take in their expressions. “Oh, I hope that doesn’t offend you. I was so sure it was just a dream.”
“You dreamt of our history?” I nod at Mrs. Delanciennes’ shocked question. “And you were our Goddess Nyx?” I nod again, nervously. My eyes dart between the three vampires in the room who look absolutely gob smacked. I don’t want to say anything else for fear of causing an uproar. “Please, Lys,” says Mrs. Delanciennes, recovering. “Tell us everything you remember.” I tell them every detail of that dream, including how the vampires were actually created and why certain vampires have Chosen. Mr. Delanciennes gets up from his seat as I speak and starts pacing. He waits for me to finish relaying my dream.
“You have truly been blessed tremendously by the goddesses.” His voice is full of wonder. “Unless . . . ” He stops in front of me and kneels. “ . . . have you ever traced your history?”
I’m taken aback by him kneeling at my feet. I’ve never had anyone kneel in front of me before today. “Do . . . do you mean my family tree?”
“Yes.” Mr. Delanciennes sounds so eager.
“Only slightly.” I glance around at the others, feeling distinctly uncomfortable. “I know I’m a major mix of races, but I haven’t really looked into it.”
“We must consider this more later. For now, we must continue, there is still much to discuss. However,” he stares at me with an expression I don’t understand. When he stands and turns to his wife, I look to both Shawn and Damien, rather bewildered. “Selini, I am certain you share my suspicions.”
“I do, Donovan.” Are they suspicious of me?
He walks over to her and takes her hands, speaking earnestly. “Then, would you mind greatly? It is such an awe-inspiring thought, and it would erase her doubts.”
Mrs. Delanciennes’ forehead puckers. She seems lost in thought for a few moments. “I understand, Tesoro. I give you leave, but just this once, and only from the arm.” I don’t know what just happened, but it seems like she’s made a monumental decision.
“Of course, Selini. Thank you.” He turns back to me. “Miss Vance, would you be willing to grant
me the honor of a taste of your blood?”
Damien jumps to his feet, face red. “Father! This is highly improper!”
“Damien, Son,” Mr. Delanciennes offers reasonably, trying to placate Damien. “Do consider who she may be.” Who might I be?
Damien moves to stand between his father and me. “Her ancestry does not matter.” He pokes his father in the chest with a finger. “You are asking to drink my Chosen’s blood! That is not acceptable.”
I look between them, nervously. “Mr. Delanciennes, I . . . I thought you said there were repercussions.”
He looks past Damien to meet my eyes. “Repercussions for you and my son. I am soul-bonded before our Goddesses. There would be no effect to either of us.”
“Oh, um, in that case, Damien, I don’t mind.”
He looks over his shoulder at me. “Of course, you do not, Elysabeth,” he gestures to his father. “You do not understand what he is asking.”
“He’s asking for a drink of blood.”
“But it is so much more than that!” The possessiveness in his voice startles me.
“Damien, I think you need to let this happen,” Shawn states plainly.
Damien looks at Shawn as though he’s the devil incarnate. “I will not!”
“Look, Lys needs to know this is real, so she doesn’t worry she’s gone off the deep end.”
My face heats almost instantly. “Shawn! I can’t believe you just said that.”
“Lys,” he smirks at me, “you know it’s true.” I know he’s right, but I won’t give him the satisfaction of admitting it. “Anyway,” he turns back to Damien. “It sounds like this will allow her to know, without a doubt, that you really are vampires, without any real consequences.”
Damien looks distraught. “But—”
“He has a point, Son.”
“Father, you know what you are asking of me!” He turns to his mother with a look of incredulity. “And Mother! How can you allow this?”
She offers him a thin smile. “You understand why he asks this, Cucciolo. It is hardly the same as drinking from your mate.”
The Most Special Chosen (Exalted Bloodlines Book 1) Page 22