Nathan snorted. “Why would you want me to travel with you? My extraordinary good looks winning you over?”
“Actually, your winning personality.”
They both laughed, relaxing the built up tension.
“Henri, I know you mean well, but this is my parents’ dream. I can’t abandon it. Not yet.”
Henri sighed. So the man was loyal. Not a bad quality, though it put him in harm’s way right now. There was little he could do to convince Nathan of that without full disclosure, so with another frustrated sigh, he said, “Very well.” He could suggest a groundskeeper, but that would involve money. And Nathan would most likely be too proud to accept any of Henri’s.
“You can go.” Nathan nodded to him. “I know my mother asked you to keep an eye on me. But I’m fine. You don’t have to worry.” Little did Nathan know, but he did. Damn, Nathan should know about the danger he was in. But Henri would honor his friend’s request not to tell him unless Nathan’s life was in danger, and he had to be made a vampire.
“I’m not going anywhere for now. Come on. Let’s see what’s in the larder for lunch.” Henri’s stomach rumbled. He was going to have to find a food source soon. The beast shouldn’t be as hungry as he was now, much less hungrier. He watched the pulse beats on Nathan’s neck before shaking it off. Nathan’s blood would be as sweet... No. No. He couldn’t think such things.
* * * * *
Bellario stifled a bored yawn as he stared out the frosted windows of the small stone chateau. Not that he could see much through the murky hand-blown glass. This place was not what he was used to. He longed for his huge estate outside Lisbon. Yes, that was the helm of civilization. Not this little piss-poor French hamlet.
Contemptuously, his eyes swept around the bedroom. It wasn’t fit for a man such as him. And it was the best they had.
What had drawn him to the wilds near Lourdes in France, where not even a healing spring discovered by young girl who’d had religious visions could convince him this area wasn’t backwards and lowbrow?
A man.
He was chasing after a man of all things.
But not any man.
Bellario had waited a century to find him.
Years ago, he’d met a priest, a rather unremarkable man, except for his latent abilities. He’d had the ability to sense emotion, to filter it, to draw the emotion into himself.
Bellario had quaked, finding out on a whim of fate what the man hid from everyone else. The poor priest thought himself a demon. All Bellario could think of was the power the man had, and how much that would be increased by making him a vampire. He’d be a vampire under Bellario’s control if Bellario made him. This man could draw off the power of victims, making them weak and tractable. There’d be less work that way. He could draw emotions from enemies, making them useless in a fight. The potential Bellario saw had been so endless.
Only the simple, idiotic priest had used a dagger to end his own life before Bellario could turn him.
The stupid man had decided hell and damnation for his suicide were better than eternal life as a vampire. Bellario couldn’t wrap his head around it. Not that he believed in hell, but the good priest sure had, therefore condemning himself when he’d committed such a grievous sin. He’d robbed Bellario of a prize.
Bastard.
But he’d known since one such man existed, there had to be more of his ilk. Bellario needed only to find another one and ensure he’d get this one.
He’d enlisted his minions, vampires he’d made and humans. He’d tracked down rumor after rumor. Nothing had ever panned out.
Until a human who’d once served the high and mighty Henri Baptiste had come to work for Bellario.
His lip curled at Henri, the poser Frenchman, who was really from one of those wild countries that Bellario hated visiting. He’d never had the pleasure of meeting him, but had heard enough about the man to never want to.
The human had told him of a woman who’d once served Henri. This woman had seemed to sense Henri’s moods, knowing how to tend to him. Then, she’d married another human and moved away, leaving Henri behind. Henri had let her go, not something Bellario ever did. Once a human served him, they only left him for the grave.
Intrigued by the suggestion of her powers, Bellario had tracked her down, overcoming great difficulty in doing so. It had taken him years to discover the woman and her husband had settled near Lourdes. But, find her he had. The sickness had taken her over before he’d gotten there. He’d railed against fate because her powers weren’t what he was looking for. Maybe at her peak, she could’ve developed them, with time and training as a vampire. But by the time he’d found her, she was well past her prime.
And then, her son had come around the corner.
Nathan was what he was looking for. He had no idea what he could do.
Not that Bellario knew exactly, either. But Nathan possessed the same powers as his priest had. And Bellario would have him, make him a vampire and have his powers at his disposal for eternity. He would not lose this gem to suicide. It was why he’d chosen to take Nathan after his mother died and use the people of the village to create the need of the situation. He’d planned it out elaborately, putting each cog into motion.
“Bellario!”
Jacques’s voice made Bellario turn away from the window next to which he stood. He sighed. What was the panic now? The whiny human had started to grate on Bellario’s nerves. He thought things about eliminating Nathan, which Bellario watched carefully. Fear of Bellario would prevent Jacques from acting on those thoughts. Jacques was an easy mark to manipulate, and not that bright. Bellario had known he could use the man’s hatred to bring him Nathan. “What is it, Jacques?” The man was getting tiresome. He’d be glad when he was done with him. Then, he could kill him.
“We might have a problem.” Jacques hurried up near to the window. His eyes squinted at the light being let in the bubbled glass. “Does being in the sun hurt you?”
Bellario waved a hand. “Doesn’t hurt.” All it did was aggravate him. Sort of like Jacques. “What problem?”
“A man is staying with Nathan.”
“So?”
“He sent you a message.”
Bellario stilled, his body going slack. “Me?”
“Yes.” Jacques tittered back and forth, pacing nervously.
“Dammit, tell me what he said. Exactly.”
“He said, ‘You won’t get the boy.’” Jacques shook his head. “He told me to go tell my Master.”
“How does he know about me?” He grabbed Jacques’s shoulder, his hand catching the moving target and shaking it. “What have you told people?”
“I’ve told no one. I swear it. Not about you.”
“Who is he?” He let loose of the smaller man’s shoulder. Jacques didn’t have the sense to have told anyone about his dealings with Bellario. Something else must be at work here.
“Nathan said this man was a friend of his mother’s. I didn’t know the old bat had any friends.”
Bellario’s back stiffened. It couldn’t be. “A friend of his mother’s?” He whipped around, his head turning quickly toward Jacques. “What does he look like? Did he say his name?”
“He’s nothing. Some stocky, dark-skinned man. He’s not even as tall as Nathan and didn’t look too bright either.” Jacques fingered a window seal. “He didn’t say a name. Nor did the bas...Nathan.”
Jacques had a lot of nerve about accusing someone else of not being smart. “Why hadn’t you heard of this before? The old woman was buried two days ago. Didn’t you go to the funeral? Check out who paid their respects? Work the crowd against Nathan as you’ve been instructed to do?” Nathan needed to believe his life was in danger. That way, when Bellario offered him a future, he’d take it. Jacques’s silence was his answer. “Dammit, you’re supposed to be keeping an eye on my boy.” Not letting some other man get close to him. Especially the one who Bellario suspected the man might be.
Bellario turned away from Jacques, reeli
ng over this new turn of events. “No. It cannot be.” Surely the old woman wouldn’t have contacted Henri. They’d been out of touch so long. And what had the old woman known? Obviously, she’d recognized what Bellario was. Maybe she hadn’t been as sick as he’d thought.
“I’m telling you, he’s nothing to worry about. Unless he takes Nathan somewhere. That’s what I’m worried about, why I’m here.” Jacques thrust an arm out. “We need to move. Move fast and hard before they flee.”
Bellario cracked a hand down on the stone windowsill. The sound echoed through the small house. Jacques jumped, then swallowed noisily. Bellario spoke, each word enunciated to make Jacques understood their full impart, “If that man is who I think, we do have to worry about him.”
“Who do you think he is?” Jacques’s lips twisted in a sneer. Apparently, he didn’t think much of Henri as a threat.
Jacques was an idiot. Better men than Jacques had fallen to Henri’s feet in a dust pile. Bellario might not think Henri could best him, but he’d damn well be concerned about the man being in the same province with him. “A man named Henri Baptiste.”
“So?” Jacques shrugged his shoulders. “Who the hell is that?”
“He’s an ancient vampire. He’ll be a bother.” Bellario cradled his hand, which was still clenched in a fist; though healing nicely, the scrapes that had permeated the skin. “A big bother.” Henri wouldn’t be thrilled with Bellario’s plans for Nathan. Henri’d decided that humans were worthy of saving a thousand years ago. Something about them being no challenge as prey. He’d started hunting and killing the more animalistic of their kind. Bellario bet eliminating the pudgy Egyptian would be worth quite a lot in reputation among their brethren.
When they left, he’d have the new talent of Nathan under his control and Henri Baptiste would be but a memory in the vampire world.
Chapter Five
“I don’t like to speak ill of people. But he’s...odd.” The Widow Badeau’s mouth pursed up into a sour pucker much like her pinched, wrinkled face. She looked like an old grape, wrinkled and faded. “Madeleine was a fine woman even with the airs she put on. But that son o’ hers is strange.” Her black skirt rustled as she moved along the dirt pathway. The dust rose up in a small cloud.
Several people standing about nodded their heads in agreement. Nathan had quite a reputation in the village. Too bad for him, yet good for what Jacques had to do. No one made eye contact, and one disagreed. It was still the early stages of the plan, but it was going along better than he’d expected.
Jacques nodded his head somberly as he stood outside the small Catholic church amid a group of villagers. He fingered his ascot, trying not to pull the knot out, but he loosened it some. Sentiment was already whipping up faster than he could get it out. “That he is. We’ve all seen...him...with no shirt.” He wrinkled his nose as if in disgust. Several woman tittered as though dismay filled them. One pulled out a small lace fan and started fanning.
“It’s scandalous the way he roams about the countryside.” Madame Beauchamp smoothed down her billowing skirt, which covered her behemoth ankles and trunk-like legs. Her ample bosom heaved. She’d probably never seen her husband without his shirt, or breeches for that matter.
“I hate to even speak it aloud.” Jacques held a hand over his heart. “It can’t be true. Whatever will we do, if it is?” What a bunch of fools.
“What?” Monsieur Beauchamp, looking like a tall lance, took two steps to join his wife’s side. That was a rare sight. Usually, he spent as much time away from her as possible. Or, when he was near her, he was well into his cups. “What can’t be true?”
“Maybe --” Jacques hushed his voice to a low whisper so everyone crowded in closer around him. “--he’s not only odd.” Someone smelled nasty. The fumes burned Jacques’s nose with their sour stench.
The whole small group looked at him with saucer-sized eyes.
Someone managed to stammer, “Whatever do you mean?”
Was he going to have to spell everything out for the stupid fucks? Maybe getting the townspeople in a huddle to talk hadn’t been a good idea, either. He tried to breathe through his mouth. “Maybe he’s...evil. His mother did pass away from that mysterious illness. Maybe...”
“What?” Widow Badeau sidled closer. A goat’s bell rung from a nearby farm amid the bleating of many.
Yes, he must have to lay everything out. What had happened to guessing games? “He could be a demon. In league with the devil himself.” Jacques dipped down to turn his head and look each one in the face before staring at the path. Wildflowers now dotted it in a haphazard fashion. Cramming one up his nose would help with the scent of the unwashed lot of them. Bellario had started insisting that he took more care with his washing. If this was what he’d smelled like before, no wonder. “His mother’s illness came so soon after his father’s. Both parents dead, what? Within a year?”
Hushed whispers sounded all around as a butterfly flew in between them. Yes, this was going to be easy, especially with what he had in mind to do tonight.
“We could have evil right here near our village.” Jacques shook his head. “We’ve been lucky so far, but now he’s out of family to kill.”
The group exploded into conversations and comments.
“It’s true! Both parents dead like that.”
“Him going around all naked. It’s not natural, I tell you.”
“He’s got shifty eyes, he does.”
“He acts different than anyone else.”
Madame Beauchamp eyed Jacques. “Whatever could we do against this menace?”
A red kite’s lonely cry sounded across the sky. It drifted on the winds up above them, a silhouette among the few clouds. The bird of prey was a hunter, like Jacques. The corner of his mouth turned up into a smile. “We eliminate it.”
* * * * *
Henri watched as Nathan pounded metal a few feet away. Each stroke of his hammer onto the anvil was sure and methodical as he pulled the metal into a recognizable shape. It was amazing to watch, and not merely for Nathan’s skill. His actions showed off his body. Henri should be helping with other chores, but had found himself spellbound whenever Nathan did his blacksmithing.
Henri’s gaze traveled down Nathan’s shirt-covered back. He’d had to convince Nathan to stay dressed, much to his hidden disappointment. They’d be pushing their luck if Nathan stripped, even as much as Henri wanted to see his exposed skin.
Even covered, the muscles rippled and pulled deliciously. His bared biceps conveyed how strong he was as he lifted and lowered the hammer. Nathan’s waist tapered into thin hips and one toned, rounded ass. His legs were wide apart, showing off their contours. His hair flowed down to his shoulder blades in a mass of waves contained in a ponytail.
Henri shifted in his seat on the wooden fence. His cock hung heavy between his legs. He ached to take the man in front of him. Hell, he wanted him in front. They could do it over the fence. Not a proper first time, though. Did Nathan have a virgin ass? Not that it mattered to Henri, though it would make things interesting. He’d have to take it slow. It had been a while since Henri had had a virgin of either sex.
Dammit, if only Nathan would go to Paris. There, Henri wouldn’t have to worry about Jacques and Bellario even if they pursued them; in Henri’s abode, they’d be safe. And he could seduce Nathan at his leisure. It had now become not a matter of whether he would, but when he would.
An ember popped in the fire, burning in the pit set up by Nathan’s anvil.
He rubbed his tongue along the dry roof of his mouth. Patience. He’d bide his time and wait for Nathan to realize there was nothing for him here. Nathan didn’t want the life his parents had had. And there was nothing wrong with that. Eventually, Nathan would see it. He needed time to heal from his grief. But knowing that didn’t make Henri’s wanting any easier to deal with.
The light had shone freely in Nathan’s eyes when Henri had asked about traveling. And there was so much that Henri could show hi
m of the world.
Of course, that was provided that Nathan wanted...
Hell, what was he doing?
The beast had been getting the better of him for months. Now, a blond god had entered his life, and he was ready to go gallivanting off? No, he needed to get a handle on the horrible things that rested inside of him before he’d be able to be anything to Nathan, even if that’s what Nathan wanted. Somehow he was going to have to tame his beast before it erupted.
Maybe Nathan could help?
He sighed. No mortal could have the powers that Nathan seemed to. The loss of emotion as it had poured forth had been evident. It had drifted into Nathan. He didn’t understand it, but what he’d thought happened, couldn’t have. It wasn’t possible for a human to have those powers. He’d seen some strange things over his long life and never had he encountered anyone, man or vampire, who could do what Nathan seemed to.
There had to be another explanation.
Nathan blew out a heavy breath. Sweat rolled down his face as he turned toward Henri, soaking his clothes. The air was hot and even more so by the fire.
“Need some water?” Henri asked. Can I strip you down and take you? With a cough, he covered the noise of pleasure that had tried to creep free of his throat.
“Sure.”
Henri hopped off the fence rail and sauntered to get Nathan a drink, much as he had the first day they’d met. A small animal that he didn’t get a good look at scampered away into the grasses. Probably a marmot or something similar.
Nathan sipped the water from the dipper before pouring the remainder on his head. He shook, spraying water everywhere before he scooped out another dipperful of water and took another small drink.
Henri chuckled, wiping off a drop from his cheek. “Feel better?”
“No.” With a sudden movement, he tossed the water in the dipper at Henri, soaking his hair and shirt. “Now I do.”
Henri glared through the drips running over his eyelids. “What’d you do that for?” He swabbed at his face.
Nathan grinned, his face easing into that boyish look that had been missing the past few days. “You looked hot. I wanted to help.”
Bloodlines: Currents Page 5