Revelations in Blood

by Patricia D. Eddy

  “Whoa, luv. I knew you should have eaten more earlier. Sit down. I’m going to make you another cup of tea. A couple of amaretti too, yeah?”

  “You’re not my…” Evangeline was about to say babysitter, but Sylvie was already out the door and moving around in the kitchen. She didn’t want a babysitter, but she still couldn’t remember what had happened after Vittoria…drugged her. All night long she’d lain in Nic’s bed, staring at the ceiling, trying to piece together tiny snatches of memories that didn’t make any sense.

  The phone rang, and Sylvie stalked in from the kitchen with the receiver tucked against her chest. “Vittoria. Want me to deal with this?”

  With a quick shake of her head, Evangeline accepted the phone. “What did you do to me?”

  Vittoria sputtered for a moment, then a heavy sigh carried over the line. “I did what I had to do.”

  Sylvie arched her brows, and Evangeline put the phone on speaker. “Not good enough, Vittoria. Nic admitted he was keeping things from me before they took him. And then you…drug me before racing out of here the very first night after promising Nic you’d stay with me. I need to know what’s going on right now.”

  “Nicola is unharmed. Carlo saw him. But the Conclave is not currently inclined to free him. The female vampire’s voice held a strain Evangeline hadn’t heard since Vittoria had been impaled with a silver rod in her father’s lab.

  “Why not?” Needing something to do, Evangeline started to pace, hoping the vague dizziness and the headache that was currently splitting her skull from her jaw to the back of her head would pass. “I want to see him.”

  Vittoria’s voice sharpened. “You cannot go anywhere near the Conclave’s facility. Your blood…it is too tempting. If the elders know what you are—”

  “What I am?” Curling her fingers around the Italian coin she wore—Nic’s gift to her so many years ago—Evangeline prayed for a single minute to feel the connection between them. “I’m human. And Nic’s life mate. Before long, he’s going to have to feed. I’m not leaving him to rot in prison for some made up crime he didn’t commit.” She rubbed her eyes, and one of the purple contacts popped free. “Dammit. I can’t keep pretending to be vampire.”

  “Evangeline?” Sylvie took her arm, her purple eyes alight, and a muscle in her jaw ticking. “That is exactly what you will do. If the world finds out you’re human, you and Nicola will be targets. For the rest of your lives. Give me the phone.”

  Feeling a little like a chastised child, Evangeline handed Sylvie the receiver while she searched for her contact lens.

  “You want to tell me what the fuck is going on?” Sylvie demanded. “I don’t know you. So unlike E, I’m not going to be nice. I know what Rohypnol smells like. Spill it. Carlo isn’t returning our calls and Evangeline still hasn’t recovered from whatever you did to her.”

  “Carlo is at the Conclave, petitioning for Nicola’s release,” Vittoria said.

  “And…?”

  “A few minutes ago, the Polizia Secreto broke into my lab. They took…everything. All of my files.” Vittoria swore under her breath, and a crash carried over the line. “And the samples I took.”

  “What samples?” Evangeline asked as she shoved the uncomfortable contact lens back into her eye. “And what did you have that they wanted?” Fear tightened a knot in her belly, and as she glanced up at Sylvie, a flash of memory brought tears to her eyes. “You didn’t. Tell me you didn’t.”

  “I had to, Evangeline. In order to protect you—and Nicola—we had to know. I took your blood. Ran tests. You are something different. Something more than human. And if Nicola’s blood shows similar mutations, the Conclave may never release him.”

  10

  More than once, Nic had to stop and request water. He spoke until his voice roughened and his eyelids felt like sandpaper. Every minute of the agony Longo visited upon him. Every word he heard the bastard say. Every cut, burn, and break. Despite his perfect memory, the drugs stole days, weeks, maybe even whole months from him.

  “So, Longo would take your blood, mix it with a variety of other chemicals, and then inject the human with it?” Carolina asked.

  “Si. The treatments caused Evangeline tremendous pain, and often, she was sedated. Two days later, the stronzo would collect two pints of her blood. I believe he separated the plasma from the blood cells and used the plasma to make the serum. But, my assumption is based only on what I could see from my…cage. The doctor performed many of his tasks in a separate room.”

  Nic squeezed his eyes shut as the room spun around him. If he didn’t need this terrible ordeal to be over, he would have asked for a break, but he doubted anyone would be inclined to grant his request.

  Luigi’s gaze darted to his tablet, and an odd expression flitted over his lined features. “We will take a fifteen-minute recess. I have some business to attend to. Mario, see that Nicola is given blood.”

  “No,” Nic protested. “I promised my life mate that hers would be the only blood I would take now. I am fine.”

  “Hardly,” Antonio said as he shook his head. “The restraints are all that are keeping you upright in that chair. Do not be foolish, Nicola. We do not want you to starve.”

  “Then let me go.” Holding his head high, he glared at the others as they all followed Luigi from the room.

  “Signore,” Enrico said as he took a knee alongside the interrogation chair, “you do not look well.”

  “I am well aware of that,” Nic said, unable to hide the edge to his voice. “Do you think the silver is comfortable?”

  With a quick jerk of his head, Enrico sent the other three guards from the room. “I can help.” He dug into his pocket and withdrew a small vial of blood. “From Signore Vescovi. He says this is what you require.”

  Nic narrowed his eyes. If Carlo had taken Evangeline’s blood, he would never trust the male again. “Open the vial.”

  One sniff confirmed Carlo’s betrayal. “Give it to me.” Nic didn’t have long until he’d be forced to take bagged blood. This way…perhaps his Evangeline would forgive him. Merda. If Carlo had hurt her…

  As the blood flowed over his tongue, Nic’s strength returned in a rush. His eyes no longer felt hollow, and though he needed more to fully recover—would need more in another few hours if they kept him bound—he could breathe easily again. “Grazie.”

  “Prego. Now, I must bring the other guards back. I recommend you try to look…weaker.”

  Nic slumped back in the chair, flexing his stiff fingers. He’d be lucky to be able to stand by the time they were done with him. As the guards filed back into the room, snatches of whispers reached Nic’s enhanced hearing.

  “…how the mutations in his DNA will affect him?” Mario asked.

  Antonio’s hissed reply squeezed Nic’s heart in a vise. “We do not even know if…” A long pause had Nic straining to hear. “…he needs the enhanced human’s blood.”

  “There is one way…”

  He couldn’t tell who replied, but Dio. If they were going to try to force him to take blood, he’d fight with everything he had left.

  “We will resume,” Luigi said as he strode into the room. Nic blinked hard. In the short break, the eldest member of the Conclave must have fed, for he looked…younger. His pale, amethyst eyes had brightened. His hair appeared thicker, and his lips plumper, without the myriad of wrinkles and even the occasional tremor that had plagued him throughout the interrogation.

  Antonio held the door open until a servant dressed in a black suit walked briskly into the room carrying a glass of blood. “Nicola, you will drink.”

  “No.” As he caught the blood’s scent, his stomach roiled. Stale. Weak. “Luigi, capo, you gave me your oath that Evangeline would be protected if I surrendered myself. Forcing me to take another’s blood…for all we know, it could weaken the bond she and I share. How is that protecting her?” Desperation surged through him, and as his fingers dug into the arms of the chair, faint cracks appeared in the wood. />
  At his plea, Antonio and Luigi started to argue, which thankfully distracted the guards from Nic’s anger—and newfound strength thanks to the vial of Evangeline’s blood.

  “We have to know what he is,” Antonio spat as he shoved to his feet. “If he cannot exist on normal human blood, he is a danger to us all.”

  “How? If his life mate is the one who sustains him, how does that endanger us?” Luigi arched a thin, white brow. “If anything, that protects us and the humans. If he cannot drink human blood, then send the two of them off together and we will be done with them.”

  “And what about studying him? If he is truly something more, then we have an obligation to find out how to evolve all vampire kind.” With a huff, Antonio shoved back from the table. “We should jail him until we understand what he is.”

  Luigi stood, taller, thinner, and most definitely stronger, and blocked Antonio’s path. “We will do no such thing.”

  Silence fell over the room. The other members of the Conclave watched the power struggle between the two elders, and Nic held his breath. For more than two hundred years, he’d been a witness to this constant battle for dominance. Antonio had never been satisfied with Luigi’s rule, but more than two hundred years younger, he was not strong enough to best the ancient leader.

  Antonio seethed, his breath hissing between his teeth as his fangs lengthened. The uniformed servant took a step back, then another, but his foot caught on an uneven stone, and he stumbled, sending the glass of human blood crashing to the floor.

  Splatters hit the door, the table, and Nic’s shoes. He jerked in his restraints, groaning as the silver dug into his raw skin. Luigi advanced on his second in command, and when he grabbed Antonio by the upper arms, Angelia gasped. Cesare tried to get a hand between the two men, and Jax grabbed Antonio around the waist, dragging him back with Mario’s assistance.

  “Enough!” Luigi roared. “I am still the leader of this organization, am I not?”

  One by one, each of the vampires nodded. Including Antonio.

  “Our bylaws do not require a unanimous vote in matters of imprisonment. I have the final say. However, in the interest of fairness, all in favor of releasing Nicola?

  Four voices said, “Si,” in unison. Tomas, Carolina, Mario, and Jax. Only Antonio, Angelia, and Cesare stood in silence.

  “It is decided, then.” Luigi nodded at Nic as Enrico unlocked the restraints. Drops of blood seeped into his shirt sleeves where the cuffs had broken the skin. “You are relieved of your duties, permanently. Resume your life, Nicola. As a civilian.”

  Another betrayal. How many more could he survive? Nic’s throat tightened, and he pushed to his feet, swaying from the long hours restrained. Enrico took his arm. “Signore, members of the public are not allowed to walk the halls unaccompanied. I will escort you to retrieve your things and call you a car.”

  Nic met Enrico’s gaze. He mouthed a quick “thank you” and let the vampire guard support some of his weight as they left the chamber. He had to get back to Evangeline. Figure out how the hell he would keep her safe. And what, exactly, Longo had done to them.

  11

  Bayard stood in the Conclave lobby, his hands clasped behind his back. “Monsieur, I will drive you home.” The bodyguard glared at Carlo, who slumped in one of the room’s lavish chairs.

  With a growl, Nic shook off Enrico’s hand and stalked over to his former friend. “You took her blood. After you swore to protect her. Stay away from me, Carlo. Or I will not be responsible for my actions.”

  “Nicola, please—”

  “No. We are through.” Turning on his heel, Nic managed to stride out of the Conclave under his own power but stumbled over a loose cobblestone two steps from the car. Bayard caught him and ushered him into the backseat of a black sedan.

  “What are you doing here?” Nic asked as Bayard merged into traffic.

  “I had to track down Carlo. He was not answering his phone. Do you need blood, monsieur? I can stop—”

  “No. I need rest. And Evangeline.” The small vial Enrico had given him would keep him alive, though it would do nothing for the weakness and pain. He sank against the seat and stared out the window at the passing countryside.

  Every time he replayed the interrogation in his mind, his anger boiled over. How could Evangeline let Carlo take her blood? She knew how important the secrets in her blood were. And merda, if she’d let the male touch her…

  Nic rubbed his wrists and winced. The abrasions were not healing. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw the silver bars of the prison cell, the rough ceiling, the dim hallway. The stench of unwashed vampires, of fear and pain and hopelessness clung to him from the few others imprisoned with him. Five, according to Enrico. Only one from before his capture.

  Nothing he’d seen or experienced in the past two days made sense. Luigi’s sudden vote to release him. Antonio’s hatred. Four vampires imprisoned in eighteen years. In his centuries on the Conclave, he’d voted to lock up only ten others.

  “Monsieur Angliatti,” Bayard said, and Nic jerked awake. Blinking hard, he gazed out at the long, winding road that led to his home. “Will you be leaving the house tonight?”

  “No. I need rest. And Nic, please. Or Nicola.” Even his voice felt weak and strained. He lifted his gaze to meet Bayard’s eyes in the rearview mirror. “The day I was arrested, did Carlo come back to my home?”

  “Oui. We did not see him, but the security cameras recorded his visit. He arrived close to 10:00 p.m., Nicola, and stayed for an hour. He and Mademoiselle Regusi left together at midnight.”

  “Vaffanculo. Is…is Evangeline all right?” Despite how foolish her decision had been, Nic would not steady until he saw her. Their bond flared, stronger with every breath, but he was too tired—and frustrated—to speak to her mind.

  “She is safe. Sylvie has not left her side since yesterday morning.” Bayard smoothly accelerated out of a turn, and as Nic stared out the window, he barely noticed the beauty of Sorrento at sunset spread out before him.

  Visions of Vittoria taking Evangeline’s blood, of Evangeline chewing on her delicate lip, of the two vampires he’d trusted most in this world salivating over the scent of her drove him half mad, and he flexed his fingers to stop himself from punching the seat in front of him.

  Before Bayard even set the brake, Nic threw open the door. But a wave of dizziness overtook him as he tried to stand, and only his bodyguard’s quick reflexes stopped his ass from hitting the pavement.

  “Nicola, take a deep breath. If she sees you like this…”

  “Let her,” he muttered. She had to know what her risk could have cost him. He hated himself for his frustration. The ache in his heart hadn’t let up until they’d reached Sorrento. Now, with only a door—and perhaps a room or two of the house between them—he felt her love, her worry, her fear.

  Throwing off Bayard’s supportive arm, he forced himself to walk slowly, but under his own power up the short set of steps. No sooner had his fingers brushed the knob than Evangeline threw the door open. She’d lost weight, and dark circles braced her eyes.

  “Nic. Oh God.” She threw her arms around him, and he stumbled back—right into Bayard. “Why didn’t you call? When I started to sense you again…I worried,” she whispered. “Are you okay?”

  No.

  With some effort, he shifted her against his side and urged her back through the door. “Come sit down, Evangeline. There is something I need to discuss with you.”

  She stiffened at his rough tone, and as they reached the formal parlor, her eyes narrowed as she peered up at him. “Shit. You need blood first.”

  Gritting his teeth hard enough he worried his fangs would go right through his lower lip, he shook his head, then regretted the motion as the room threatened to spin around him. “This is more important. As is your health. Have you eaten since I left?”

  “You were gone for two days. Of course I ate.” Frustration warred with the concern in her eyes, hidden behind those
damned purple contact lenses. “Some. You didn’t.” She brushed her hair off her neck, and Nic’s gaze lingered on the gentle pulse of her heartbeat just under the skin.

  His fangs ached, and hunger gnawed at his gut, but he had to find out how much blood she’d let them take and what Carlo had said to convince her.

  “Not…yet,” he managed. “We have a more pressing problem.” His anger helped him focus, and he tried to will his fangs to retract, but as he licked his dry lips, the sharp points scraped his tongue.

  Clearing his throat, he took Evangeline’s hands and pinned her with his stare. “The Conclave knows you are not fully human. Worse, they know we have both—” his voice broke, “—evolved. They took my blood, studied it. It was a violation I can never forgive, but then to learn that you allowed Carlo to take your blood as well—”

  Evangeline jerked her hands back. “Allowed him?”

  “Si. Evangeline, that was reckless. You must be more careful. I trusted Carlo with your safety, and I was wrong, but I thought you understood that the secrets in your blood were too valuable to ever risk exposure. By anyone.”

  Evangeline’s cheeks reddened, and tears gathered in her eyes. Her emotions bombarded him, and as weak as he was, he could not guard against the onslaught of anger, fear, and betrayal pouring from her heart.

  Standing, she swiped a trembling hand through her hair. “I didn’t allow Carlo or Vittoria to do anything. And no. You shouldn’t trust him. At all. But I’m your life mate. I love you and I trust you. Clearly, you don’t feel the same.”

  With a choked sob, she turned and rushed up the stairs. As the bedroom door slammed, Nic slumped against the settee.

  “Really, mate?” Sylvie asked a few seconds later. Leaning against the archway that led into the kitchen, she quirked a blond brow. “You look like shite. There’s leftover linguini and clams in the ice box. Bayard and I have a case of donor blood in the guest house. But if you expect to feed from Evangeline, you’re going to have to do some serious groveling.”