Tears of Blood (The Blood Chronicles)

by Tamela Quijas

  Declan shrugged. “Perhaps, before you condemn me, I’ll sample your luscious little gypsy.”

  The comment instantly made Sebastien stiffen. “Franchesca is under my roof.”

  “She’s not always protected by your mediocre spells.”

  “Care to try?” Sebastien breathed balefully. “Touch Chesca and I’ll tear you apart.”

  Declan didn’t imagine the threat was meaningless. He was aware of the tales of the wizards hunting their kind and of the spells woven to obliterate their damned souls. All it would take was a simple touch of Sebastien DeClerq’s hand and a single phrase to send his accursed soul to Hell. Still, he wouldn’t allow the enigmatic mage to control him, or the satisfaction of knowing his presence alarmed him.

  “If not your precious Chesca,” He mocked aloud with deliberate vileness. “Perhaps that frail flower my disciple is falling so disgustingly for should be my latest pawn. The sightless can be such a challenge…so full of trust and innocence. Imagine, the purity of that being craving the blood of another…?”

  Sebastien’s hand shot out. A low growl emitted from his throat as he stilled the urge to clutch at the vampire’s neck, knowing the contact would disrupt the festivities.

  “Leave the child alone!”

  “Leave her?” Declan laughed outright. “Do you imagine I would have to touch her?”

  “Stay away from her.” Sebastien’s command burned with fury.

  “I don’t have to be at hand, wizard, to offer her damnation.” He flouted maliciously. “Do you believe my pupil is incapable of changing her, if the moment arises?”

  “He doesn’t have your corruptness.” The mage stated with more assurance than he felt.

  “He was a disappointment.” Declan revealed with a scowl and a slight shake of his head. “I had such high hopes for him, but he’s failed me time and time again. Instead of robbing the innocent of their blood, he’d rather teach bumbling English lords how to waltz! Nonetheless, though, his true colors may eventually emerge.”

  “He won’t change Meghan.” It took a great effort for Sebastien to keep the rage out of his words

  Declan shrugged noncommittally. “Perhaps, but you’ll never know until it’s too late.”

  “I seek only the ones consumed by darkness.”

  “Then take a true look at my apprentice.” Declan breathed in a hushed voice.

  “He’s part of The Brotherhood.” He stated firmly. “I don’t touch those in that particular band.”

  “You’re a bigger fool than I imagined!” Declan hissed angrily, his composure disappearing and the true ugliness beneath the suave exterior revealing itself in the dim shadows.

  “How am I a fool?” Sebastien asked with an insulting quirk of his brow.

  “A vampire is a vampire, no matter what side they choose in this world!”

  Sebastien shrugged indifferently, his expression indolent.

  “There are those of your kind that inflict vengeance, and there are those seeking redemption.”

  “Amado Gianni is a vampire I created!” Declan nearly shouted, the sharp canines of his teeth gnashing with the avowal. “There isn’t anything significant distinguishing one from the other!”

  “I beg to differ.” Sebastien countered smoothly.

  “I’m the one that taught him of the hunger, of the need for blood, and the benefits of immortality!”

  “You taught him nothing.” Sebastien countered with smug ease. “You made him one of your orphans; untutored, untrained, and left to subsist in a world he didn’t understand.”

  The wizard’s calmness fueled Declan’s irritation and he rose to his full height, his dark eyes flashing the promise of retaliation.

  “He’s what I made him, a beast of the night.” Declan contested. “He may insist on supping on that excuse of a libation from the local coroner but, inside, he craves fresh blood. He can’t hide from what he is, any more than I can depart The Sanctum.”

  Sebastien turned, hearing the delicate sound of Chesca’s infectious laughter as she looked at the latest customer demanding his fortune. The woman glowed tonight, he thought absently. Filled with distinct animation, her kohl-rimmed eyes resembled sparkling emeralds in the soft glow of the hotel scones.

  His thoughts hardened as he turned toward the other, the vampire continuing to smirk maliciously, evil filling his dark vision. Sebastien straightened his back and shoulders beneath the cut of his tuxedo, his expression hardening as his eyes narrowed.

  He muttered beneath his breath.

  The words were old, laced with a chant like pattern that instantly made Declan straighten, minute traces of fear filling his hardened gaze. Each syllable falling from the wizard’s mouth was uttered in an ancient language he hadn’t spoken since his youth.

  Bitterness welled up inside him, followed by outrage.

  The man before him, beloved among the population of Bentham, was whispering a curse. The words, melodic and enigmatic, delved into the recesses of Declan’s mind. He felt tormented, his chilled body suddenly burning, his eyes blazing with each passing second. Frozen in place, he was forced to listen to the entirety of the curse.

  “You’ve forgotten the remnants of your human soul, Declan Balthazar.” Sebastien murmured when he was finished. “You’ve forgotten how your heart sang in your youth, and how love could change how you looked at the world.”

  “You…”

  “I’m not the one that will destroy you. I’ll not be the one to condemn you to a fiery hell.” Sebastien interrupted smoothly, a sly quirk of his lips accentuating his words. “I curse what’s left of your mortal being beneath the corrupt exterior you present to the living, Balthazar.”

  “What do you intend to do with me?” Declan hissed.

  “I place upon you memories of what you’ve pushed aside with your bloodlust. You’ll hunger, but for emotions that don’t contain blood or anger.”

  “Emotions are nothing in my world!” The vampire protested defiantly.

  Sebastien’s smirk broadened. “Believe that as you wish, demon. I know better, for I’ve seen into your tarnished being and know what you crave the most.”

  “Damn you, wizard!”

  “I was cursed long before you.” Sebastien soothed. “For my curiosity, I was destined to hunt your breed for all eternity. I, though, shall grant you a peace from my power…”

  “What peace could I ever find?” Declan roared.

  A slow smirk twisted Sebastien’s lips as he stared into the vampire’s eyes.

  “I’ll only curse you.” His breath was warm as he leaned close, his words cryptic. “I curse you to know what you’ve lost. I curse you to feel a pain as you’ve never felt before. I curse you to weep tears of blood for what you cannot have.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  The cab driver left her at the curb, and watched her mount the steps to the house. He shook his head, a low sound of appraisal leaving him as her golden dress glowed in the rising sunlight, the material shimmering with every step. He waited, keeping an eye on her, as she placed the stark whiteness of her cane against the iron balustrade. He knew he didn’t have to hang around, that he should be out looking for an added fare, but his heart softened when he had picked her up outside the dance studio.

  She was too beautiful to be alone, especially dressed as she was, he thought. There would be some moron out there wanting to hurt a woman as pretty as her, and it wouldn’t harm him to do his one good deed of the day.

  What’s more, everyone with a brain believed Bentham had become a little strange over the last decade.

  He waited for her to reach for her keys. As she pulled them from her clutch, he grunted, pleased. He shouted an enthusiastic ‘take it easy, ma’am’ from his open window before merging to the street, a smile curving his rounded cheeks.

  He never saw the vagrant sitting under the tree, just on the inner confines of the park, a blanket drawn to his chin.

  ***

  “Meghan!”

  She started,
surprised by the familiar voice, her small assortment of keys clattering to the ground. Muttering, she crouched, intently brushing the worn stone in search of the cold metal.

  Meghan frowned as her fingertips passed over a strange dampness staining the stoop and she jerked her hand back. Cursing under her breath at the urgent repetition of her name, she rose and turned slightly, her fingers pressed to her side.

  “Look what you made me do!” She accused hotly, feeling uneasy, embarrassed, and more than a little confused.

  “Meghan,” Amado’s tone was exasperated. “You can’t vanish like that.”

  “Just because we slept together, don’t get it in your head you can tell me what I can and can’t do.” She stated firmly, scowling in his direction.

  “That’s not what I meant.” He was immediately contrite and she sensed an underlying edge in his retort. She listened to him inhale as he tried to gather his thoughts before speaking again. “We did more than sleep together, and you owe me an explanation for disappearing without saying good-bye.”

  Meghan bristled and ground her teeth as she scowled. She hated having the obvious pointed out to her, which made her more furious---not at him, but herself. They had done more than simply sleep together, sharing a night of unrivaled passion. Still, there were little glitches, moments that gave her pause. There were emotions, sensations, fractured seconds that teased the back of her mind….

  “You were asleep when I left.” She commented irritably. “I don’t know how you made it here, but you can explain later.”

  “Why did you leave, Meghan?” He asked in a voice that warmed her to the core, every syllable an erotic caress.

  She colored hotly, each word hinting at their shared passion, and of the husky words that flowed from his lips during the night. She wanted to pull at her hair, as her body throbbed anew with a freshly reawakening ardor. Instead, her hands balled into fists and a dull ache started in the pit of her womb, soundlessly pleading for his touch.

  “I…” she gulped, words sticking in her throat. Trusting her senses, Meghan suspected Amado was keeping something from her. There were too many unexplained issues concerning him, teasing little quirks she couldn’t quite interpret in her present state of mind. She needed time away from him, and from his overwhelming presence, so she could rationalize her disturbing thoughts.

  “I couldn’t stay.”

  “Are you regretting what happened between us?” He demanded with a hint of purely male ego evident in his words.

  She shook her head.

  “Then, why?” He posed softly.

  Her face flamed. She suspected she looked a wreck, her make-up smeared, and the kohl having formed dark rings beneath her eyes. After a night in Amado’s embrace, she assumed her lips lacked any semblance of color, and her once immaculately coiffed hair was a tousled mess.

  The poor cabdriver! She thought, burning with shame. If she looked as bad as she imagined, it was obvious she’d spent a very passionate night with an extremely virile man.

  “You have to understand.” Nervously, she ran her hands down the side of her body, teasing little flashes of the night bursting into her thoughts.

  “What do I need to understand, preziosa?” He asked with more patience than he felt.

  “It’s not like me to do what I did.” She stammered. “Normally, I don’t go off on a wild hair and forget who I am, how I was brought up, and fall into bed with just any man.”

  The air became tense with emotion.

  “Mi scusi, Meghan, but I’m not a man you barely know.”

  Each word he spoke was slow and unhurriedly pronounced. Unrest radiated from him and she shivered slightly, struggling to find the right words. She hadn’t experienced any sort of sexual interlude since her divorce from Kevin. Now, with the rising sun beating on her face, she wondered if the previous night’s exhilaration got the better of her. It wasn’t like her to fall slip into bed with any man, especially after the damage Kevin inflected on her heart and self-esteem. The latter, she was fixing, but the initial item was new and frightening.

  Amado was different, though. While most men turned from her, disgusted with her attitude, repulsed by the cold shoulder she so often presented, he remained. As Chesca would remind her, he broke the shell, climbed the battlements, and took her prisoner before she’d time to plan a line of defense.

  All the same, it wasn’t like her to jump into any man’s bed, no matter how sexy his voice. However, the sultry night in his arms was something she wasn’t ever likely to forget, thoughts of his singeing kiss and ardent lovemaking causing her body to tremble anew with need.

  “Common sense doesn’t have anything to do with what we shared.” He responded tightly. Amado remained positioned on the sidewalk just beyond the flight of steps leading to her door. “Meghan, you didn’t have to run off the moment the sun rose.”

  Amado’s statement was low, calm, and held more patience than she believed possible. Petulantly, she kicked at the stoop with the toe of her shoe.

  “I had to leave. It’s against everything I’m made up of to do what I did!” Her cheeks pinkened and she turned from him.

  “Yet, we shared a night filled with everything I dreamed of, Meghan.” His tone was caressingly soft.

  Despite the flutter blossoming in her heart, she couldn’t surrender to his charm any more than she already had. He was too smooth, too elegant, and she suspected she wasn’t his only conquest. An insecure part wondered how many women had fallen victim to his sophistication and his loving touch.

  “I’m not going to become just another feather in your cap, Amado!” She declared hotly, before grinding her teeth together.

  “Cosa significa?” He sounded utterly confused. “I don’t understand this feather in my cap.”

  “I’m not a woman you can laugh about with your friends, telling them how you managed to get me to let down my guard and fall into bed with you!”

  “Ah!” Amado’s attitude hardened perceptibly as he finally understood her meaning. “You believe I’m a bastardo, si?”

  “I didn’t say that!”

  “You implied, Meghan.” Purposely schooled, his words didn't reveal the extent of his anger.

  “Hell!” She shouted before squeezing her eyelids shut and inhaling a deep breath. “I don’t know what I mean. I just couldn’t stay any longer…”

  “You left because you have a guilty conscience? Because you succumbed to a side of yourself that allows you to experience passion, the heat of a man, and amore?” He struggled to remain calm.

  Amore was one word she did understand. “You can’t possibly love me!”

  “Why?” He persisted, stilling the urge to roll his eyes. “Do you not think you’re worthy of love?”

  “I…”

  “Meghan, let go of your anger and mistrust.” his voice softened with the softly posed demand. “Ti voglio bene.”

  She threw her hands up, frustration etched on every line of her face.

  “I don’t understand what you said, nor do I care. I had to leave, despite whatever amorous little declarations you made!”

  “Bella, allow me to speak, to tell you what I feel…”

  Meghan could almost imagine him touching his fingertips to his heart, and his dark eyes filling with an appeal that would make most women melt. Her body warmed as she listened to him speak, the very essence of her soul longing to collapse into his arms and allow him full access to her love. Stubborn to a fault, Meghan didn’t, and folded her arms across her chest.

  “I’m not talking about last night again,” she muttered tightly. “As far as I’m concerned, this conversation is over, and didn’t happen.”

  “Oh, it happened, Meghan.” He retorted smoothly. “I’m not the sort of ….man to forget the feel of your body, or the soft whispers of passion that escaped your lovely throat. You ask the impossible, for I can’t erase a night that will linger with me for all eternity.”

  His words caused a fresh flush of heat to rush over her and she
became more flustered by the moment. He wasn’t the only one who wouldn’t forget the night they shared, but she’d be damned if he’d continue using it to make her a melting mass of flesh.

  “Stop!” She ordered firmly. Even though her face glowed with a brilliance that echoed the red tints of the rising sun, she wasn’t going to give into his charm. “I had to leave, and that’s it. I’m not open to any more discussion concerning last night.”

  Amado remained stoically silent. Faintly, she heard him sigh, and echoed his response with one of her own.

  “Why don’t you tell me how you managed to reach my home before me?”

  “Bella, I have ways.” He admitted tightly, wondering at the thoughts flashing across her expressive face. Meghan, unaware of his curse, didn’t realize He knew the moment she left his side, the sultry promise of her flesh taunting him as she made her way through his apartment.

  Despite the sleep of the dead, the warmth of her body leaving his bed had left him bereft and the caressing kiss she placed on his lips made him weak. Seconds after the taxi sped away, he followed her, puzzled by her behavior. Denied feeding, the effort to scale the rooftops of Bentham as silently and swiftly as he wished was nearly impossible while keeping her cab clearly in view.

  “I used a taxi…” flustered, Meghan nervously smoothed her hands over her dress, wiping the sticky substance from the tips. Abruptly, she heard him growl, the sound disturbing, and threatening.

  “Meghan, stop talking.” Amado ordered thickly.

  “Listen here,” she ground out.

  “Stop talking, Meghan!” He all but shouted at her.

  She huffed angrily and a frown developed between her brows. Shaking her head, she glared in his direction. “That’s the problem with men! You think you can just boss women around like you own them…”