Tortured Soul

by Julia Laque

  “Are you all right?”

  “I’m fine,” she said too quickly.

  She forced her damn heart to calm down by cautiously taking slow pulls of air and looking about the room with feigned nonchalance. When she returned her gaze, he was still staring with his brow furrowed over dark inquiring eyes. “Were you ill recently?”

  Evangeline’s head jerked a little with surprise, her expression matching his. “No, I don’t get sick. Not really.”

  The only time she was sick or rather incapacitated was after healing. Other than that, she’d never had a cold or the flu. She didn’t count all her curious fainting spells as being sick, just extremely weak.

  Turning to explore the room, Evangeline tried to keep him from staring at her, but she still felt his crude eyes all over her body.

  The music had changed from Figaro’s overture to Nina Samone. Man, great art, classy music and fine wine; the guy had great taste. If he weren’t forcing her to marry him, she would have been on the couch, feet tucked under her and on her second glass of wine, joking with the king about the recent theft at the Museum of Modern Art in Paris. They could have been good friends.

  Just friends.

  Alas, age-old vampires with egos the size of the continent they reigned over, don’t play by her rules. Humans, especially women, were treated like booty, ass and loot.

  A knock sounded at the door and they both turned. Evangeline’s quick intake of breath was not lost on Cyrus. He glanced quickly at her and she didn’t know what was more frightening: the scary-looking giant at the door or the fact Cyrus’ voice had just told her to Mind her manners...inside...of...her...head.

  ****

  Cyrus found it nearly impossible not to stare at Evangeline. Every single inch of her was striking to the eye. His own body hadn’t reacted like this in a long time. Cyrus placed his fork down on the small dining table they shared in his study and reached for the glass of Zinfandel he’d opened for them, giving him a chance to stare at her again.

  She was his.

  This beautiful creature was going to be his wife. And if things went as planned, those long, firm legs of hers would be wrapped around him in a week.

  They sat in his study where Cyrus preferred to take his meals. There were bookshelves embedded into the two parallel walls and a large glass case of Egyptian artifacts encased the wall by the door. The wall behind his desk was all glass with double doors leading out onto the terrace.

  The rest of the coven took their meals in the formal dining room where all nine of them could eat comfortably at his thirty foot mahogany table. Some of them had already had their first meal of the evening and were conducting business in their office or out for the evening.

  As they’d walked through the house toward his study, he watched Evangeline take in her surroundings, eyeing an office where Armando and Gabe, his coven’s financial advisors, worked at their computers and a reading room where Florena, his personal assistant and advisor, sipped coffee and read the day’s Sun Times.

  He didn’t know what Evangeline expected, but he was glad she wasn’t afraid. Her beautiful face looked around with curiosity and made him want to kick Florena out of the reading room so he could take Evangeline on the chaise by the window.

  Evangeline’s sexy alto interrupted his thoughts. “Can everyone here communicate telepathically?”

  He placed his drink down and regarded her. She was holding his stare. The girl had great eyes. He would be happy to have her stare at him for as long as she liked. “Yes, they can. I insisted everyone here should learn this method of communicating, with the exception of Jane. It’s a very convenient ability to possess.” He hesitated. “I apologize for spooking you earlier. We’re accustomed to the method and sometimes we forget it’s rude to use it on others who are unsuspecting. I’ve tried to limit the amount of telepathic communication in my coven. You see, some of my staff use it to gossip about someone in the room and it’s waning on my nerves.”

  Evangeline’s face became worried for a moment. “You can only hear what the other person is, ‘telling you’ though, correct?”

  She was worried he might be able to read her mind, which bothered him. He wanted to know what was going on in that glorious head of hers. “We cannot read minds, Evangeline.” It was the first time he’d ever said her name and he felt a rush of ownership at the sound.

  She looked relieved, which doused his feeling of possession and irritated him again.

  “Are you through eating?” he asked. She’d barely touched her filet mignon and had only taken a few bites of asparagus.

  “Yes. Thank you, it was very good,” she said stiffly. He wanted her to loosen up, become relaxed with him, but he supposed it was going to take time.

  As Girard, the cook, came in to take away their plates, he caught Evangeline eyeing him. Girard looked like anything, but a cook. He was a very good-looking French vampire with hazel eyes, brown hair and tattoos covering half his body. Cyrus didn’t like the way Evangeline noticed his good looks and wanted to strike Girard for smiling at her.

  Girard left and closed the door behind him. The silence in the room made Cyrus uncomfortable. Evangeline stared at her hands in her lap. He didn’t know what to do to put her at ease. It had been over two hundred years since he last courted a woman. He didn’t have a clue what he was supposed to do.

  Evangeline spoke something under her breath.

  “I’m sorry?”

  Her head came up and those eyes bored into him once again. Fuck. Her face reminded him of why he chose her.

  “I said, why me?” Her voice was cold and she was practically glaring at him.

  Ok, small talk over. Good. It was time to get down to business. He waited, trying to think of something clever and romantic to tell her, but nothing came. “Truthfully, and I’m quite sure you won’t like this, but, I just simply had to have you.” Her eyes widened at him. “I really don’t have a reason other than my own selfish needs.”

  She was angry. “I’m not some fancy car or a piece of meat. You’re forcing me to do something I don’t want to do.” She leaned forward and placed her arms on the table, making her collarbone jut out enticingly.

  He sat back in his chair, his arms resting on either side, with his head tilted as he regarded her. “In time, you will get used to the idea of being my wife.” She looked at him aghast. “I can give you a good life here, Evangeline.”

  Astonished, she hesitated for a moment then whispered, “You’re insane.”

  “Watch it, my dear,” he snapped.

  Her lips pursed and they glared at each other for a while until she asked, her voice stern, “Did you compel my father to steal the money?”

  Clever girl.

  Very few people knew vampires had the ability to coerce humans to do their bidding. He considered what to tell her. “If I said no, you wouldn’t believe me and hate me for lying. If I said yes, you’d still hate me.” He waved a dismissive hand in the air. “There’s no point in discussing this. It does neither of us any good.” In truth, Cyrus only compelled Wolcott to consider stealing the funds, knowing of his dire straits, and low and behold, it worked. Cyrus needed something to hold over the Wolcott's’ heads. He knew he wouldn’t have been able to get Evangeline to marry him so quickly, save from compelling her, and that was something he refused to do.

  Cyrus needed a wife and queen to strengthen his status as king. The moment he saw her at a fundraiser with her father, he knew she was the one.

  “It would do me some good.” Her voice was growing louder. “My father is not a thief—”

  “Enough!” he snapped again. The evening was taking a wrong turn and they had business to conduct. Straining for calm, he said, “I don’t want to resort to more threats, but do I have to remind you what will happen if you do not cooperate with me, Evangeline?”

  Her eyes were tearing up. Christ, don’t cry. She sucked it up though and lifted her chin. If need be, he would go so far as to out her father as a thief and compu
lsive gambler. There was no way he was letting her walk away from this and the stricken look on her face told him she knew it too. “No, Your Grace.”

  “Call me Cyrus, please.”

  Rolling her eyes, she turned away from him, looking out the back windows. He let her sulk for a moment before he brought up the inevitable.

  “I understand you know the procedure for a vampire betrothal contract.” He sat up, clasping his hands on the table as if he were in a meeting with his subordinates. The fact her expression went from angry to anxious told him she knew of the contract. “I will get you an engagement ring soon enough as I was once human and those traditions still stick, but I’m afraid we will have to proceed with our tradition so no other vampire can claim you.” His stomach knotted as he asked quietly, “Have you ever been with a vampire, Evangeline?”

  She shook her head.

  “Good.” He relished that no one else had tasted her as he slowly stood.

  Eyes wide, she jerked back against her chair.

  “Relax.” It was a short distance to her, but he didn’t want to move too fast.

  Visibly shaking, she grabbed for the arms of her chair. “I can’t do this.” Before she could get up, he reached her and laid his hand on her bare shoulder, gently pushing her back down. He reached for the chair perpendicular to hers and sat down to face her with only the corner of the table between them.

  “Yes, you can. You’re stronger than you think.” He was leaning forward, getting very close to her skin.

  Evangeline shook her head slowly, eyeing him with disgust. “You bastard.”

  “Actually, I am,” he replied and reached for her hand. She tried to snatch it back, but his patience was waning and tightened his grip. He was getting this over with.

  She gasped.

  “I’m sorry,” he said and loosened his grip, but only just. He was exasperated with the whole evening. What did he expect? Did he really think she was going to come over here ready and willing with a smile plastered on her face? No.

  She was trembling and he cursed.

  “Listen to me, Evangeline. As my fiancé you might become a target for my enemies. If I have your blood in me, I could find you and protect you.”

  She was looking more worried by the minute.

  “It’s all right. Nothing is going to harm you. You and your family have the protection of my coven now. Do you understand?”

  “Yes.” Glancing down at their joined hands, her eyes were shining when she brought them up to stare at him and his stomach knotted again. “Do you understand I don’t want any of this and will hate you for the rest of my life?”

  “No, you will not and do you know why?” Cyrus practically hissed and didn’t wait for an answer. “Because, once we are together, I will show you the kind of passion which will render you limp and sated for weeks. I will do things to you that will make you weep and beg me for more.” Mouth parted in stunned disbelief, Evangeline was speechless. “And if you’re relaxed and willing when my fangs break your skin, you will feel a jolt sidle up your arm and down to your very core and when I drink, your body will be hard pressed not to climax.” The rush of blood filling her face combined with her scent made him go hard in his pants, his fangs ring out and his eyes flash silver.

  Ok, a little too much for her. She was really shaking now.

  Shutting his eyes, he calmed his irises to return to their natural state. He left his fangs out though, to get her used to them. When his eyes were back to normal, he opened them slowly.

  His lips tightened. “A compromise…” he began. “I will only break the skin to get you accustomed to the feel of it. I won’t drink from you tonight.” Her look of relief pissed him off. “But, the next time we meet, Evangeline, there will be no discussion on the matter. Am I clear?”

  “Yes,” she answered, breathlessly.

  Without further ado, he flipped her palm up, made and held eye contact with her, and broke the skin at her wrist. The sound she made as he’d punctured her almost made him come in his pants.

  It was over too quickly. He came up, letting go of her wrist, and tried to judge her reaction.

  She was staring at the marks on her skin with no reaction whatsoever.

  God, he’d wanted to feed from her so bad. His tongue flicked out to see if any remnants of blood were there. What the…

  There was the tiniest speck of blood on his fang and it made his tongue tingle. He was 260 years old and he had never tasted anything like it.

  He looked at her in shock. “What are you?”

  Chapter Five

  Evangeline turned off the faucet, stepped out of the shower and reached for the terry cloth towel. She dried herself off, still a little dazed at the night’s events.

  When she was dry, she put on deodorant and then grabbed her jasmine-scented lotion and rubbed it all over her body. She rinsed her hands and ran her moisturizer over her face.

  Unclipping her hair, she brushed a few times and then headed out of the bathroom to her walk-in closet and the drawers inside. She threw on a pair of black yoga pants and a white camisole, and then tried to get cozy on her chaise.

  For years she'd wanted a dog or cat, anything to cuddle up to, but her mother had refused because of her allergies. Evangeline wasn't the teddy bear type and had given away all her stuffed animals and dolls years ago to charity. Wishing she’d kept something to hang on to, Evangeline now felt cold, empty and worse, completely and utterly alone.

  Why didn't she stand up for herself better? She should have argued more, yelled more, hell...she should have struck him in his self-righteous face, but what good would any of it have done?

  You couldn't predict a vampire's moods or reactions and she'd tested him tonight just by cursing at him. Had she been a man or, worse for vampires, a werewolf, she would have been dead.

  Her door opened and Katherine's dark gold head popped in. "Are you up for some company?" She smiled nervously at her.

  Evangeline was thankful for her sister's presence. She would even put up with Katherine's nonsense right now, anything to fill the growing void in her chest.

  "Come on in." Evangeline stretched, loosening the muscles in her back and arms.

  Katherine shut the door and jumped on the foot of the chaise, making Evangeline bend her legs at the knee to make room.

  "So...how'd it go?"

  Evangeline shook her head slightly at her sister's expression. "I guess you could say it went okay. I wasn't killed or drained of all my blood."

  Katherine shrugged and assessed her. "Yeah, you look all right."

  Evangeline looked down at her wrist. "Do I?"

  Katherine gasped and grabbed her hand. "What a prick!" she yelled.

  "Yeah, it was." She was surprised she could joke about it.

  "Did it hurt?" Katherine was running her finger over the two tiny crimson holes.

  Narrowing her eyes at the memory, she answered truthfully. "Not really. Cyrus told me to relax and be willing and it wouldn't hurt so much. When I was finally willing, I couldn't relax. It stung for about half a second and then I felt this jolt. It was all too fast though, because he didn't drink, just wanted to break the skin."

  "So does this mean the contract is fulfilled?" Katherine gave her back her hand.

  "I'm not exactly sure. It can't be binding because he didn't drink, but he certainly left a mark."

  "It's all right. You're a fast healer."

  Vampires usually lick the wound to help it heal faster, but good ol' Cyrus neglected to complete that part. A mark like this was going to stay with her, but not as long as he'd like. Her ability to heal others meant she could heal quite fast. She didn't know if vampire venom could heal her faster than she could, but the guy could have tried. Their venom runs in the secretions of the mouth. It was also an intricate tool during transition.

  Katherine tilted her head and studied her. "You seem...calmer...more resigned. Are you beginning to accept all of this?"

  "What choice do I have, Kat? He can
ruin our family and Lord knows what would happen if Dad was taken before the vampire tribunal." Eventually, her father would be transferred and his official hearing would take place in a human court, but to be fair to vampire laws, he'd have to answer to their magistrate, whose methods of punishment were terrifying.

  Katherine got up and cracked the bay window. The night was cool so the air conditioner was off, but on the second floor, their rooms could get stuffy. "Let's look at the pros here," her sister started.

  "Kat—"

  "No, listen. If you're going to have to live with that asshole then I want to be sure you’re okay over there or else I'm going to go crazy worrying about you. So just do this for me, please."

  "Ok, Kat," Evangeline said calmly. She didn't like to see her sister get all worked up. She especially didn't want Katherine worrying herself sick over her. Evangeline decided right there and then to stop being such a whiney baby about all of this and try to look on the bright side, if there was one.

  Katherine looked satisfied. "Okay...I think the first pro is the fact you won't be far from home. The King's Coven is only ten minutes away. "

  "I agree. If I'm not chained to a wall, I'll come home to visit as much as possible," Evangeline said and winked at her.

  "Ha ha," Katherine said lamely. "Now, tell me about the estate. Was it nice?"

  "Actually, it was beautiful. He has great taste."

  "Good. Pro number two." Katherine paced in front of the bay window, holding up two fingers. "Now, how was the rest of the coven?"

  Evangeline crossed her legs and arms. "I didn't meet the whole coven. I met two women; one was rude…the other, very nice, but she was human. I wasn’t formally introduced to anyone else, but I ran into the king’s infamous henchman.” Evangeline raised her brows at Katherine. “His name is Victor and he’s huge and frightening. And then I saw the cook. He seemed nice and pretty gorgeous. The food was excellent." Too bad she couldn't hold anything down.

  Katherine paused. "Gorgeous cook, huh?"

  "Yep."

  "Mmm...” Her sister muttered. “Nah. Too many cooks in the kitchen, literally." She waved her hand dismissively. Katherine loved to cook and the thought of rivaling her skills with someone else didn't make a good match. "I consider nice human and good-looking cook a pro, so we have three." She continued pacing. "You won't have to quit teaching ballet, which you love, so four. Anything else?"