His laugh was bitter. “Not always.”
She’d known that Henri had done things in his past that he considered horrendous. He rarely spoke of it, but the group of people who had once served him decided he’d massacred humans in the past. The good the man did in the present had overridden what bad they’d thought he’d done. Henri targeted animalistic vampires who never thought twice about the humans they killed. Back then, she’d gotten the impression that sometimes Henri’s beast snapped and took over. But that it didn’t happen too often. Would it happen now?
A coughing spell enveloped her as her mind panicked. She’d counted on Henri to be able to help. If he were in this much danger of losing control, he might not be able to assist Nathan. He might not be able to keep her son safe.
He patted her back, helping her to drink some water. The coolness washed away the metallic taste of blood. It came more often now. She didn’t know how vampires stood it.
Nathan burst in the door, swinging it wide open, letting it hit the wall. “Maman, are you all right?” He rushed into the room to her side.
“Leave us,” she croaked, coughs still barking from her throat as she sputtered water. Henri grabbed a rag and mopped her up. She saw his nod to her son, the look saying, “I’ll take care of her.”
Mumbling, Nathan slammed the door. Even with Henri’s assurances, he didn’t like it. She’d hurt Nathan, which was not her intention. Why must he be as damn proud as his father? Of course, that pride had been one of the things that had attracted her to Francois.
Henri’s gaze lingered on the doorway before turning back to her. A spark flashed in his eyes. Desire raced against the turbulent emotions racing around him.
Henri was attracted to her son.
It should bother her. But all she could think was that it made things so much easier. Henri would be more willing to do as she asked. He’d do it regardless because she asked it. But someone he could be intimate with would get more of the attention that was needed for Nathan to survive.
Was the interest shared by her son? She’d have to watch and see. But it would be the answer to her prayers. Her chest burned from the coughing fit even as her mind raced with the possibilities.
Once she’d regained control over her rebellious body, she breathed deeply. She had no choice but to enlist Henri’s help. He was all she had. Maybe they would somehow help each other. Nathan had inherited her talents and more. Perhaps the extra something would be of use to the warrior human in Henri.
“He’s a good boy. My Nathan.” She nodded her head to the door.
“Hmm. Why didn’t you ever tell me you had a son?” Henri settled back down beside her. “When I first saw Nathan, I had no idea that’s who he was. I figured you’d have told me you had a child.”
“We didn’t tell you because we were supposed to limit our contact with you.” She took his hand in hers. His had no wrinkles, no brown splotches, was tough, yet smooth. Strength emanated from it. “You told us not to contact you unless it was an emergency.”
He nodded his head back and forth. “So I did. With both of you having knowledge of me and the climate, it seemed best at the time. But you could have shared your good news with me.”
“Henri, I hadn’t thought of you in years. Until I met Jacques.” If only she could spit out the man as easily as she spit out his name. “And Bellario.”
“Who are they?”
“Bellario is like you. Jacques serves him.” She stared at the dark wooden footboard over the sea of quilts and white linens. Nathan worried so much about her getting cold. Lately, the coldness came from the situation more so than the weather.
“Bellario is a vampire? I had sensed one near here. He’s not of my line, though.”
“Yes, Bellario is a vampire.” Her eyes clouded over with tears. “He wants my son.” She grasped his hand tighter, nails raking across it. “Please. You must help Nathan.” She couldn’t allow Nathan to be taken by Bellario.
Henri’s eyebrows furrowed. “Bellario wants Nathan? Why him?”
“I don’t know. But Jacques makes Nathan’s life hell here on earth. He torments him, using everything that Nathan is against him.” She coughed lightly, trying to take a shallow breath so as not to start the coughing fit again. “The resentment of the upper class still festers in places, even here so far removed from the city. We’re seen as those with money because we bought this land. Jacques wants our village to see Nathan as a witch. As evil. You’ve seen how he is, he’s not evil, he’s...different.” And to most, anything different was bad. It was the way of the world.
He ran a hand through his hair. “But that doesn’t make sense. There are lots of humans around here. And why don’t they take him?”
“I only know what I see. What I sense. Bellario wants my son, wants his blood and body for himself.” Since she’d met him a few months ago when she could still travel, she’d known the longing in him and hadn’t known what to do about it. There was no struggle to control his beast in Bellario. He let it rage. He would hurt Nathan, would make him a vampire and let Nathan’s animal spin out of control. Thank God, she’d still had her brain, her memories, and had been able to get a note to Henri. “And Jacques will sacrifice anything to get Bellario what he wants.” She sensed that he wanted to torture and hurt her son, especially, because of Bellario’s interest.
“What do you want me to do, Madeleine? You know I’ll do anything you ask.” His thumb roamed over her hand. “Does Nathan know of my kind?”
She licked her cracking lips, trying to bring up some moisture. Henri instantly handed her the cup and let her wet her parched mouth. He would help her. She swallowed the water down her aching throat. It was such a relief to know that for sure. A few tears pricked her eyelids. “No, he has no knowledge of vampires beyond what he thinks is simple folklore.” She and Francois had chosen not tell him the truth of vampires’ existence. They’d had no idea one would settle near their village. “I want you to save Nathan from them. Don’t let them have him. And...” She broke off, hesitating. “...if they get him, you make him a vampire. Be his maker. His teacher.”
Chapter Two
Henri idly churned the goat’s milk, sitting outside on the steps to the house. The sky was darkening. Nathan was tending to Madeleine. She’d been exhausted after their talk, but relief had seeped copiously from her whole being. Her worry for Nathan had been keeping her here. How long would she last now that she trusted Henri to help him?
In truth, Henri should have been overjoyed at the turn of events. Madeleine had put the object of his arousal into his care. Why didn’t that thrill him?
Because Nathan’s situation was so similar to the one he’d recently lost.
His churning speeded up violently. He had no idea where Lang had gone with his student. All avenues of finding them had proved fruitless. Lang’s last act before they’d run had been to terrorize a young woman with whips and knives. Henri had found her body, a little too late to save her, as he’d been too late to save his student from joining Lang. He’d never lost a pupil to another vampire before. He should have killed Lang upon first meeting him instead of trying to assess his animalistic nature.
What if the same thing that had happened came to pass with Nathan? Or worse, suppose Henri lost control?
The beast was close to the surface these days.
No.
He’d keep Nathan close by and keep him safe.
Henri’s cock surged up at the thought of guarding Nathan’s body while against it. The boy stirred him, no doubt about it. Not that he was a boy. No, Nathan was all man. However, he didn’t think that’s what Madeleine had meant when she’d told Henri to look after him.
Of course, Madeleine had always been practical.
Henri heard the footsteps and scented Nathan, still smelling of mint and sweat. He must bathe more often than the standard to keep his scent so fresh.
“What did Maman talk to you about?”
Nathan sat next to him on the steps, not minci
ng words. His legs closed together, and his arms folded against his chest. He’d put on a shirt with his breeches, looking more the man of the age than the Bohemian he’d seemed earlier. And yet somehow he still managed to flaunt a sexuality that most couldn’t even bring to bear wearing less and trying.
Henri shifted, trying to accommodate the growing bulge in his pants. “That is between Madeleine and I.”
Even in the dying light, Henri saw his eyes narrow. “She’s my mother.”
Henri nodded. “And always will be. But even a mother has her secrets. If she wants to tell you, she will.”
“Bastard.” Nathan looked away from him, his foot tapping on the step.
Henri made a noise of affirmation. He’d always been one since the day of his birth. “What are you doing out here?”
“Talking to you.”
“It’s dark.” Henri stated the obvious. Most humans didn’t care for nighttime. Their lack of night vision and the blackness made them uncomfortable. He usually was left alone if he went outside. Of course, in Paris, there were some places with gas lighting. Out here, it was all candles.
“I like the night. Why are you churning out here?”
“Same as you. I like the night.” The night was when his powers reigned supreme, when the annoying sun ceased to torment him. It made him itch, made his skin prickle when he was out in it. He’d have to deal with the daytime sun this trip. Jacques was human. Therefore, anything bad he brought about would happen during the daytime.
Turning back to face him, Nathan leaned back on the step and put his hand on his knee. “How long are you staying?”
“I don’t know.” There wasn’t a plan. He would need to take blood soon. He’d fed before leaving Paris, but hunger would soon rear its head, which was not a good thing in the state he’d been in lately. His eyes focused on Nathan’s neck, watching the pulse flutter there. Nathan would make a supreme feast. He shook the thoughts off, turning his head so that he wasn’t looking at Nathan’s skin. Nathan inspired too many lusts in him to fight along with keeping the clamp on his beast.
“Are you staying until Maman dies? That could be a while.”
“I don’t know.” Madeleine wasn’t long for the earth. She hadn’t asked him to turn her, nor would she, not with her husband having gone over already, though Henri might offer. He hadn’t made up his mind yet. Francois had never wanted it for himself. He’d told Henri once, if he was dying, to let him pass away. Madeleine had already asked for her son, but only if his life was expiring.
“Is there anything you do know?” Nathan let out an exasperated sigh. “And will tell me?”
“The butter’s done.”
“I’ll try and contain my excitement.”
Henri chuckled, hoisting the churn and taking it inside the house where a single candle burned. Nathan provided a bowl in which to put the butter. Henri held the churn while Nathan pulled it out with a wooden spoon.
Nathan got a bit on his hand, and he brought it up to his mouth. His tongue slid out to sweep the creamy substance into his mouth. Henri stared, mesmerized by the little movement. Nathan puckered, his tongue rushing out again.
Sparkling eyes met Henri’s. He’d known Henri was watching. The tip of his tongue exited his mouth to slowly caress his top lip all the way across it, circling down and doing the same thing to his bottom lip. All the while, he kept his eyes locked with Henri’s. Henri couldn’t look away.
Dammit.
Nathan shouldn’t play a game such as this.
Lust rose up in Henri, drawing his breath from his lungs. His cock tightened back to fullness. The monster surged forward, urging Henri to take what he wanted, take what he needed, both body and blood. Henri struggled against its base desires.
Nathan’s head came up, his jaw growing slack. His eyes widened, first, with passion hues, and then with confusion.
He had felt Henri’s beast rise. That was something not possible for a human. Even Madeleine, when she’d been at the peak of her powers, hadn’t been able to sense his halves and where they met or parted ways.
Henri swallowed as they maintained eye contact, both of them speechless. His blood raced around his veins even as the beast inside roared to have its due, to have itself appeased. He took a step toward Nathan, his hands reaching out.
Madeleine whimpered in the other room.
It broke whatever was linking them. “I’d better check on Maman.”
Henri clamped down on the beast that roared its displeasure. He’d almost lost control of it. If he’d taken Nathan that way... “Yes. Yes. I’m going...out.”
Henri let the door slam behind him as he stalked out into the night. An occasional goat bleated in the darkness. What had happened?
* * * * *
Nathan rubbed a wet cloth over his mother’s forehead. He rinsed it out again in the bowl next to her bed, then reapplied it. She drifted off into a restless sleep with one last murmur.
She was getting worse.
In the last few hours that Henri had been here, Nathan had seen decline. Much as he wanted to deny it, she was losing her fight with the sickness, whatever it was.
His body sagged. He could do nothing to help her. She’d given up ages ago, except for something that had seemed to hold her here. Now he knew what the last thread holding her here had been: seeing Henri Baptiste one last time.
His mother had refused to tell him anything about where she’d met Henri and what she’d talked to him about. The latter he could guess, the whole mess with Jacques. Maman thought he was in a lot of danger from the idiot bastard. The former, he didn’t have any idea where his mother could have met such a man.
He walked to his room, stripping the ruffled shirt from his body. The cool air brushed it softly, bringing up goosebumps as the hairs raised. The scents of the night filled his little space of the house. Wildflowers grew not too far away. Their sweet scent sometimes reached him, but not tonight. He could smell the earthiness of the goats and other animals. The fat of the candle burning made his nostrils flare. He should blow it out and not be so wasteful. One puff of air, and out it went.
He sank onto his bed, tossed and turned a few minutes before heading out into the night. He could see enough by the moon to go to the barn, where he lay in the hay, in the quiet, away from his dying mother.
What had happened earlier with Henri?
Nathan could feel people’s emotions, could tell what they were feeling. But the crackling desire inside Henri had reached inside him and grabbed him as nothing ever had before.
His erection had increased threefold. That was saying something, as hard as he’d been since Henri had arrived.
His whole body had taken on an energy. Had he been able to get to Henri as quickly as his body willed it, within seconds he would have had his clothes off and him down on the floor. And he didn’t even know for sure Henri’s preferences yet.
They’d exchanged some smoldering looks, a brief kiss, but that meant nothing. He of all people knew that.
He slipped down his pants, exposing his lower half to the night’s cooler air.
If only Henri were here. Longing seeped through him. He closed his eyes, guilt rushing along with it. His mother was dying and even then, he couldn’t be the man society wanted him to be. But his mother only cared because of the dangers. She’d told him up until the last six months to be himself.
His hand went the base of his cock, stroking up along the underside. Finger tightening, he cupped himself, moving his hand up around it as if it were a channel.
Too dry.
He needed more friction.
A water bucket rested nearby from where he’d washed himself off earlier, not wanting to do it in the house. He grabbed some soap, lathering himself up, the other hand supplying drops of water from the basin.
His hand went back to cupping, to running up and down his girth, speeding up the pace. His hips bucked with the sensations.
This was better.
Best would be Henri’s hand.
Or his mouth. Or Nathan’s cock penetrating him.
He could imagine looking up into Henri’s face as he pleasured him with his mouth. Henri’s dark eyes would appear even darker. He’d be like a God’s feast, splayed out for Nathan’s pleasure. Nathan would kiss up his muscular olive thighs to take that hard member in his mouth until Henri rocked further back into Nathan, who would move Henri in and out until he came.
Nathan’s come spurted out in a stream, almost catching him by surprise. Thoughts of Henri had driven him over the edge.
He panted. He’d caught his howl in time by biting his lip. What would it be like to come with Henri?
Washing himself off, he headed back to the house.
Was he making a mistake with being attracted to Henri Baptiste? Would it be the same one he’d made with the bastard, Jacques St. Croix?
* * * * *
Jacques groaned as he sped up the pace. Bellario’s shaft glistened in the light of the moon streaming in the windows. He swirled his tongue around the hefty organ, suckling it all the way back into his mouth.
Bellario’s fingers tugged on Jacques’s own shaft, tightening around it as Bellario’s climax hit. Bellario’s load shot into his mouth as Jacques himself erupted, dousing the bed and Bellario’s talented hands with his come.
Still in the thrall of his orgasm, it barely registered when Bellario shifted his weight, lifted his head, and brought it down near Jacques’s pelvis. But when Bellario’s fangs sank into his thigh, he noticed.
“Damnnnn.” Jacques twitched from the pain. Bellario didn’t want to feed while sex was going on, but it was a hell of a lot more pleasurable to combine the two than it was for him to feed afterwards as he preferred. At least he’d picked the thigh this time. Jacques was tired of wearing bandages on his neck to disguise the feedings.
As he drank, Bellario grasped Jacques’s limp flesh with a meaty fist. Even spent as Jacques was, the touch made his eyes roll back, and the hurt drifted back to second place in his mind.
Bloodlines: Currents Page 2