“You’re too hard on yourself.”
“Maybe. For now, I’ve got to go. The Old Man is on the move again. Whoever let this man buy a bar should be doused in alcohol and set on fire,” Nicholas muttered.
“I’ll remind you of that the next time the two of you show up on my doorstep, at the crack of dawn, completely smashed.” Morgan fought to keep the laughter out of her voice, knowing that it might incite Nicholas’s temper.
“Call me if you need anything,” he said, as if it were a normal conversation and night.
“Of course. Be safe.” Morgan fought to match his causal tone, but failed.
“With Marcus?” Nicholas chuckled. “That’s questionable.”
“Way to make me not worry about your safety.” She rolled her eyes, though she knew he couldn’t see her.
“Don’t worry love, I can handle myself. See you soon,” he paused and sighed, “I hope.”
“If I don’t hear from you by eight this evening I’ll send out search parties.”
“Maybe wait till midnight.”
“Oh no. You are not allowed to drink with Marcus. The last time, you both showed up at my place covered in blood and sporting too many injuries for me to catalogue.”
“I’m hurt that you don’t trust me. But I’ll be careful,” Nicholas chuckled.
“I love you,” Morgan whispered. “See you later tonight?”
“You can count on that.” Nicholas’s voice had slipped to the low register that never failed to make Morgan’s heart skip a couple of beats.
“When you say things like that, my dear, it makes me want to…” she let the thought hang in the air.
“Wench.”
“Just as you like it.” Morgan chuckled, before cutting the connection. She sighed and sank into the chair behind her desk, leaning her head against the high back. After a few minutes of silence, a knock on the door interrupted her. No, Morgan, you’re not allowed more than a minute’s peace before you have to deal with something else. I hope it’s not another anvil falling from the sky, she thought, before calling out, “Come?” After a second, Annabelle opened the door and stepped in.
“Am I interrupting anything?” the smaller woman asked, hovering near the door, as if waiting for something.
“No,” Morgan answered, and waited while Annabelle drifted farther into the room, her dark eyes scanning the library shelves. “How’s the kid doing?”
“He’s out like a light.”
Morgan took a moment to study the Asian vampire. Nicholas seems to trust her, and from what I’ve seen she knows a lot about newborn vampires. Morgan pursed her lips, and frowned as she leaned forward on her desk. “I’ve heard you have some experience with newborns. I’d like to know what you think about his chances of survival.”
Annabelle paused and tilted her head to the right, a look of concentration on her doll–like features. “I think he’s got a good chance.” Her eyes seemed to look into the far distance. A moment later she shook herself and met Morgan’s eyes. “After you left, he drained the human dry. He fought the onset of torpor, and before it kicked his ass, he wanted more.”
Morgan nodded and chewed on her lower lip for a moment as she formulated her next question. “What about his reluctance to feed? That could prove to be a serious liability. If you think he’s going to be crippled by a sense of morality, I have no problem ending him before he’s completed his transformation.” When she was finished, Morgan rested her chin on her interlaced fingers, waiting.
“I’m flattered that you think so much of my abilities.” The sarcastic bite was like a needle into flesh.
Morgan chuckled and leaned back in her chair, folding her hands under her chin. “I can see that you’re a pragmatist. I trust you’re not going to bullshit me.” She waited long enough for Annabelle to nod, before she continued. “Marcus also tells me that you and Elizabeth were friends, so I assume you know something about Eric.”
“I do,” the other woman answered. There was a slight pause as she waited for Morgan to speak. When she remained silent, Annabelle continued, “Going on what I know of him, I’d say that it’s going to be difficult. There’s no doubt about it. He became a cop because he wanted to help people. It’s hardwired into his DNA.”
“So you don’t think he’s going to be able to take lives until he learns control?” Morgan asked, feeling the weight of all of her 1729 years had taken up residence on her shoulders. I hate this, it’s one of the reasons I haven’t made a Blood Child in such a long time. Maybe it’s selfish, but I just can’t handle it too often. Especially if it shakes out the way this one seems to be heading. There’s nothing worse than offering and giving someone this life, and then having to end it because they can’t cope.
“I can’t say for certain.” Annabelle’s voice was hollow, a black hole where emotion was dragged in, but couldn’t escape. “I know that if he can get through this, he’s going to be one hell of a vampire.”
“What makes you say that?” Morgan asked, feeling a genuine sense of curiosity rising inside of her.
Annabelle sat on the arm of one of the two chairs and rubbed her chin in thought. “He’s smart, no doubt about that.” The younger vampire counted the point holding up one finger before continuing. “Tenacious, he’s closed cases that his superiors had thought to be impossible. He has a good sense of humor, which is always helpful.” Annabelle continued, adding fingers to her count as she spoke. “From what Elizabeth told me, he’s adaptable. In short, he would be an asset to any family that would have him.” There was a predatory glint in her eyes, as she finished the last sentence.
So that’s why you and Caitlynn were so eager to help. You want him as one of your own. So, the question I need to answer is, now that I’ve got your number, how can I use that to my advantage? Morgan leaned forward on her desk, propping her chin on her hands, letting a knowing smile cross her face. “Are you saying that your Lady would be willing to take him in?” She modulated her tone, so that it sounded as though she was asking the question out of genuine curiosity, and not to confirm her suspicions.
“That is my Lady’s position. If Marcus can’t handle it, of course,” Annabelle replied, without any sort of remorse or apology evident in her tone.
“I think these decisions would be best left up to Eric himself, once he wakes,” Morgan answered, shaking her head. Yeah, I was right. I could press the fact that as Marcus’s Blood Child Eric is a member of the Dynasty, and will be fostered by one of our families should it be required, but what would that accomplish? It would just annoy Caitlynn, and that’s the last thing we need to do right now.
“Of course. However, if the matter does come up, I would like ask that you keep me in mind. As my Lady’s chief of security, I am always on the lookout for talent.”
Morgan rubbed her temples, feeling as though her brain was trying to escape through her eyes, and nodded. You’re trying to back me into a corner and I’m not going to let that happen. In the end, the decision is Eric’s. “Thank you, I’ll keep that in mind.”
“Thank you,” Annabelle replied, with a slight bow. “As for whether or not I think he will make it through the rest of his rebirth. I believe he will.”
“Thank you,” Morgan paused, feeling as though there was more that needed to be said, “for all your assistance tonight.”
“Let me know if there is anything else that I can do for you.” Annabelle threaded her fingers together in front of her.
“Of course. Shall I show you out?” Morgan stood and started to walk around the corner of her desk.
“No, thank you. I can show myself out.” Annabelle turned toward the office door.
“Have a good day,” Morgan answered.
“Thank you.” The Asian vampire strolled out of the room. Morgan followed her as far as the second floor landing. She leaned against the railing, drumming her fingers on the banister. When she heard the door close, Morgan smiled, and took a long deep breath, she was alone, for the first time in almost three
months. She was alone.
15 – NEW ORLEANS – OCTOBER 4, 2009
MORGAN STOOD ON the sand, watching waves crash against the shore, blue–green walls of water cresting into white foam. She closed her eyes, and breathed the salt air, enjoying the sun on her face. She was so focused on the beauty of the coast before her that she was taken by surprise when a shadow fell across the sand to her left. Morgan turned to find Julian standing beside her.
That’s strange, Julian’s an old fashioned vampire, and doesn’t risk walking in daylight, she thought, and turned to face her Sire. His lips were moving forming words. Morgan frowned and shook her head; the crashing of the waves was so loud that she had no hope of hearing what he was saying. She stepped forward, and the sand shifted, pulling her with relentless fervor toward the churning sea. Screaming, she reached out to Julian, but he was still talking, oblivious to her plight. As a crimson stained wave crashed over her, Morgan snapped back to consciousness.
She opened her eyes, letting them adjust to the low light Nicholas had left on before they turned in for the day. She focused on taking long, slow breaths, as she fought to calm her nerves.
New Orleans, right. Morgan thought, using the mundane details to clear her mind of the dream. Nicholas came home just after midnight. Marcus is locked in his safe room, and Eric is in ours. What the hell was that dream about? I hope I didn’t wake Nicholas, she thought, shifting position so that she could see him. His eyes were closed, and he looked as though he was at peace. Good. I’ll need to tell him about these dreams, but not now, there are already too many issues on both our plates. A little lost sleep just isn’t a high priority right now. She shifted her position, so her head was pillowed on Nicholas’s chest. Listening to his steady heartbeat, Morgan drifted back into a dreamless slumber.
Sleep slipped from Morgan’s mind with all the speed of a thick viscous fluid in cold weather. She shifted her position. Stretching, she reached out to Nicholas’s side of their king size bed, and found only some rumpled sheets. Sometime during the day she’d pulled most of the blankets to her side. She laughed, soft and low in her throat, as she tossed the mass of warmth from her. Morgan shifted, feeling the soft silk material of the long shirt, one of Nicholas’s, slide over her skin before she closed her eyes. She focused on the sounds throughout the house, listening to the heartbeats within the walls.
She sensed that Marcus was in the courtyard with Charles, and based on their cadences Morgan guessed the pair was sparring. Christophe and Joshua were in her office, which led her to believe that they were discussing her situation. Oh joy. I can just bet that’s going to fall on my plate sometime soon. The last heartbeat was the one she knew best, the one she’d spent many days listening to as she slumbered. Nicholas was on the move, drawing nearer. Morgan moved her wedding ring from her right hand to her left. There are times I hate having to wear that on the wrong hand. This time I’m glad. It didn’t give Lucian pause, and no one was inclined to steal what looks like a simple engraved silver band. She heard, but didn’t react to the sound of the door opening.
“Good afternoon to you, love,” Nicholas chuckled, from the bedroom door. He strolled over to the French doors and paused. “How do you feel today?”
“Better.” She stretched, rising to her feet.
“What about the fever?”
“I’m still warmer than before, but I think it might be my new normal,” she replied, with a shrug. When she saw his eyes narrow and his features darken with concern, she slipped out of bed and crossed to him. She put her arms around his waist and looked up at him. “Really love, it’s not that bad. More like my temperature is human normal. Not bad, all things considered.” She chuckled, trying to lighten the mood a little. Morgan breathed a sigh of relief when she saw Nicholas relax a little. Some of the tension in his bearing and expression eased an impish smile, curling his lips.
“So why is it, that you stole every blanket on the bed?” he teased.
“Are you upset with me?” Morgan asked, as she trailed the tip of her finger down his chest. Nicholas chuckled and caught her hand in his.
“Hon, with as long as we’ve been married …,” he slid an arm around her waist and tipped her chin up so he could meet her eyes with his free hand. “I know I don’t get blankets when we sleep. We could be in the middle of a Siberian blizzard, and you’d still leave me with just a sheet.”
“I suppose it’s a good thing you’re cold blooded,” she quipped, mischief flashing in her emerald eyes. “And for your information, Mister Falstaff, I’m going to take that to mean ‘no I’m not mad at you.’”
“Good that was my intent,” he whispered, and slipped his hand behind her neck, before drawing her in for a passionate kiss. She melted into his embrace, and would have been content to spend the day in his arms. After what felt like an eternity, but was really less than a minute, they broke the kiss. “Well, since we don’t have much, beyond checking in with Joshua, to do tonight, the plan is keeping you safe, and maybe a bit of damage control with Marcus.”
“Keep me safe? It’s not like there’s anything around here that’s dangerous.”
She knows I love it when she’s sarcastic. Ah well, two can play at that, Nicholas thought, before he answered. “Christophe could kill you with couture.”
“That’s not even taking Charles into account. I’m sure he’s got tons of work that just needs my attention this instant.”
“Oh dear. We wouldn’t want that now, would we?”
“I’ve had a difficult past few days.” Morgan pouted, looking up at him from behind long black lashes.
“Oh, now you’re just not playing fair,” Nicholas chuckled, and paused for a moment, thinking. “I think I have a solution. Why don’t I pamper my wife a bit?” he offered, “I can make that brew for you and bring it up, so you can stay here for a while.”
“Mmm that sounds wonderful.”
“Then you and I can spend half the night talking with the professor, and catching up on whatever everyone else thinks needs your immediate attention,” Nicholas’s voice was low and full of sinful promises.
“Oh that sounds like loads of fun,” Morgan scoffed, with a melodramatic roll of her eyes.
“I haven’t gotten to the best part.” His voice was a low whisper, and his lips danced along Morgan’s neck, just below her ear.
“What’s that?” Morgan asked, even though she knew the answer.
“The second half of the night is ours. We lock ourselves away and...” he let the thought hang, unfinished. She’s got a good imagination; she’ll know what I mean, he thought.
“Hmm, you’re offering a night where I get to spend time alone with my husband. No interruptions?” Morgan asked, feeling the warm flower of hope blossom in her chest. She tried not to let it get out of control; there had been too many times when Nicholas had been called away.
“No interruptions,” he promised. “I’ll leave my cell in your office, so I won’t hear if it rings.”
“Now that’s serious,” she chuckled, and slipped her arms around his neck, threading her fingers through his auburn hair.
“I thought I’d lost you twice lately,” he whispered, so low she had trouble hearing him. His voice was uneven, as if his throat were tight. Morgan slid her hand around to his cheek and met his haunted eyes. “That almost killed me, in more ways than just physical death. I couldn’t see my life beyond the need to take vengeance on whoever took you from me. I was in my own special level of Hell, and I need to know it’s over. I need to know that you’re still here.”
“I’m not going anywhere, love.” She rolled up onto the balls of her feet, balancing for a few moments to brush her lips over his.
“Not by choice. But we didn’t know what was happening for so long because you do have a habit of dropping out every now and again,” he explained, though he knew it might lead to an argument. He felt Morgan tense in his embrace, and knew that she was going to give him a piece of her mind. He shook his head and cut her off. “I
know it’s important for you, and I can understand, however, something about that’s got to change. I realize you don’t want to talk about it right now. Eventually, we’ll need to work something out, so I know you’re out of touch by choice.”
“Good point. I should have thought of it myself” Morgan conceded.
“And now I’m back to being the overprotective–jerk–guy” he grumbled.
“I understand why,” Morgan said, and feathered a gentle kiss on his lips. “Why don’t we follow your plan for the evening?”
“That sounds perfect, love. I’ll be back in about ten minutes,” Nicholas promised, then he kissed the back of her hand before he left the room.
Morgan took a deep breath, and let it out on a slow count of ten, to clear her head, before she turned and grabbed the drapes. The heavy velvet was soft under her fingers as she pulled them aside.
She looked out over the city. A couple strolled, holding hands, down the sidewalk past Lafayette cemetery. Oaks sheltered the tombs, and a small black cat slinked through the grass stalking some prey. The sun was just creeping below the horizon, and the sky was splashed with the first blushes of what promised to be a spectacular sunset. She closed her eyes, enjoying the feel of the sun on her face, for a few moments.
The tingling sensation began in her fingers, just a slight tickle at the tips. Morgan brought her hand up and turned it over, studying the flesh as though it held all the answers. Unsure of what was going on, she tried to clear her mind, but something tugged at her subconscious.
How strange, Morgan thought, while the sensation skittered and hopped its way up her hands, toward her wrists. What am I missing? What can’t I remember that feels so important? Her thoughts were interrupted when angry red splotches blossomed on the backs of her hands while she watched. Holy shit! Sunlight stupid! Morgan scolded herself and yanked the drapes closed.
The pain stopped the moment the light had been shut out, but she could still feel the heat trapped within. Feeling as though she’d stepped outside her own body, Morgan walked back over to the bed and pushed the blankets to the floor. Sharp pains shot through her hands and up her arms, but she ignored it and sat on the center of the mattress. She felt a strange sense of fascination as she examined the burns. As though from far away, Morgan heard the door open and close. Nicholas’s scent filled the room, woodsy and calming. It also held a sharp note of fear and curiosity. I should tell him what happened, but it’s not like I can say, ‘love I was an idiot and didn’t realize that I was being burned by the sun until it was too late.’
Cast in Blood (Morgan Blackstone Vampires Book 1) Page 19