Blood Destiny

by Tessa Dawn

  Blood Destiny

  by Tessa Dawn

  Charles River Press

  www.charlesriverpress.com

  Copyright 2010 by Tessa Dawn

  First published in 2010

  NOTICE: This eBook is licensed to the original purchaser only. Duplication or distribution to any person via email, floppy disk, network, print out, or any other means is a violation of International copyright law and subjects the violator to severe fines and/or imprisonment. This notice overrides the Adobe Reader permissions which are erroneous. This eBook cannot be legally lent or given to others.

  This eBook is displayed using 100% recycled electrons.

  Tessa Dawn

  A Blood Curse Novel

  Book One

  In the Blood Curse Series

  Dedication

  To you - for surviving

  what few others could.

  Acknowledgments

  My thanks to all those who made this work possible: Miriam Grunhaus, for such an awesome cover, Roger Hunt, for your patience and perfectionism; Jonathan Womack for believing in the story and opening the door, and most fondly, Reba Hilbert, for being such a delightful editor to work with.

  To my "sister" Monique, for stepping in when it was needed. My immense love to Kiana, Nashoba, & Angelina, thank you for your endless support. And to Steve, for being a lighthouse in the storm.

  Prologue

  800 BC ~ Romania

  "Your punishment has been decided."

  In the dark Romanian castle of their beloved homeland, the royal twins, Jaegar and Jadon, fell to their knees on the cold stone floor while the remaining males of their kind waited anxiously outside the castle walls to hear the edict. Their thick black hair fell forward, shielding their terrified eyes from their accuser, as torchlight cast eerie shadows upon the dank gray walls around them.

  Their accuser was The Blood of countless victims.

  Each one slaughtered without mercy.

  The grim face of death eager to exact revenge.

  "Great Celestial Beings, have mercy on our souls," Jadon pleaded as the ghostly apparition drew closer.

  "You make me sick, brother!" Jaegar spat the words, unable to conceal his rage or his arrogance.

  The shadow weaved to the left and then to the right like a phantom pacing.

  And then it bent into a horrible arc of darkness, dipping down until, at last, it hovered face to face with the trembling men.

  Oh gods...

  Flushed and swaying, Jadon Demir reached out with a firm hand to steady himself against the ground. He cast a sideways glance at his older twin, who was now as pale as moonlight.

  "From this day forward you shall be cursed! And your sons shall be cursed. And their sons after them...unto all eternity."

  The shadow drifted closer and a heavy mist settled on their skin. "And to make certain your suffering is inescapable, you shall be made immortal. Condemned to roam the earth in darkness as reviled creatures of the night. Forever forced to feed on the blood of the innocent to survive."

  Jadon inhaled sharply, his heart pounding in his chest.

  Despite his iron resolve, Jaegar collapsed on the floor.

  The ghostly aberration continued: "As punishment for your unspeakable crimes against women, you shall never know the love or companionship of a female, nor shall you be capable of producing female offspring. Your sons will be born in sets of twins. Two children of darkness. The spawn of human hosts who will die wretchedly upon giving birth—even as the firstborn of the first set will be demanded as a sacrifice of atonement." The phantom glowered with fury. "Failure to yield the sacrifice will be met with a hideous and terrible death!"

  The damp walls of the cavern creaked as if moaning beneath the pronouncement, and the torches flickered in and out as a deep red glow consumed the once yellow flames.

  Jadon Demir shook like a child unable to awaken from a nightmare. His chest heaved as he struggled for breath.

  "I beg of you, grant mercy!" The words came out in a rush.

  The phantom dipped and hissed, "Speak quickly."

  Jadon cringed and averted his eyes. "I beseech you before all of heaven, before the Ancient Ones who came before us,

  and in the presence of the Celestial Gods: remove this curse upon my house and the house of my descendants."

  The shadow stood still...listening.

  Then all at once, Jadon's voice became a haunting song of sorrow, a sound so melodious that the room lit up, and the moon and stars dipped down to hear the beleaguered prince's words. Beneath a wind of grace and power, his plea took wings and flew....

  "While I have walked among the warriors who have sacrificed our women, I have never taken life with my own hands. Although I have failed miserably to save the innocent, I have tried to convict the guilty. And while it is true, I have enjoyed the privileges of the mighty, my heart has wept for the weak. Your wrath is deserved. Your punishment is just.

  But I beg of you: search my heart...and have mercy upon me and my house."

  Clearly disgusted, his older twin sat up and slowly turned his head to the side, his stark onyx eyes narrowing with contempt. He cursed Jadon beneath his breath and held his gaze in an angry glare.

  "Remember your place, brother. That which curses us now is the blood of the slain, the wretched females we offered to the gods for our birthright: to be worshiped beside the Celestial Beings. Plead not with these inferiors for mercy. We are the strong. The powerful. What we did was justified. And I will not beg mercy of a female."

  The room erupted into angry flames.

  Sparks flew through the air like fire and brimstone.

  A revolting abomination of heat licked at the brothers' skin, yet it did not consume their flesh.

  And then the voice of the slain cried out from within the flames: "Ours was once a proud and noble race, before you led the corruption of our men beyond the abyss of evil." A blast of rage scorched the dark twin's eyes, turning his pupils from black to red as he was brought to his belly before his accuser. "In your thirst for power, Prince Jaegar, you have sacrificed the last of our females: our powerful sisters, mothers, and daughters. The keepers of the secrets of our race. You have not achieved greatness. You have brought an entire civilization to its knees! To the verge of extinction!"

  The blaze then formed a halo around the body of the male who had pled so eloquently for mercy.

  "And Prince Jadon, we have searched your heart and find your words to be true. You and your descendants—alone—

  shall be granted four mercies accordingly: Though still creatures of the night, you shall be allowed to walk in the sun. Though still required to live on blood, you shall not be forced to take the lives of the innocent. Though still incapable of producing female offspring, you will be given one opportunity to obtain a mate, and the sign of her arrival shall be heralded in the heavens.

  "Though still required to atone for the sins of your people, your twin sons will be born as one child of darkness and one child of light, and you shall be allowed to sacrifice the former while keeping the purer soul to carry on our noble race."

  And so...

  Banished from their homeland in the mountains of Eastern Europe, the descendants of Jaegar and the descendants of Jadon became the Vampyr of legend: roaming the earth, ruling the elements, living on the blood of others, forever bound by an ancient curse.

  They were brothers of the same species, separated only by degrees of light and shadow.

  Chapter One

  Present Day

  The dark woods were eerily quiet. Not a single sound invaded the night. Not even the soft hooting of an owl overhead or the faint rustle of leaves in the trees as an icy wind swept through the darkness. The ancient, circular clearing was on hallowed ground.
A spherical graveyard surrounded by tall, looming pines and enormous, jutting rocks—the final resting place for the fallen descendants of Jadon.

  Nathaniel Silivasi knelt before a perfect, lifeless body as it lay unnaturally still upon an ancient stone slab. His fraternal twin, Kagen, crouched down beside him.

  His heart was heavy with sorrow—his grief overwhelming.

  The gravity of the loss was almost too much to bear.

  It was still hard to believe that their youngest brother had fallen. Shelby: the last born of the five, a soul so full of mischief and humor. Shelby: vibrant, powerful, and gifted beyond measure.

  Only five-hundred years old, he had died as a mere fledgling. Just another proud warrior lost to the original sin.

  Nathaniel cursed the heavens against the fate of their kind.

  Like all descendants of Jadon, he was a being of both darkness and light, a powerful prince of the night, protecting the earth and its inhabitants from the darker demons of their species—the descendants of Jaegar.

  He bowed his head in silent resignation, trying to accept what could never be changed: Shelby had failed to complete his destiny, to obtain the one human woman tied to his infinite soul—the only being in a lifetime of immortality who could free him from the ultimate claim of the Blood Curse.

  With piercing eyes the color of emeralds and long black hair that flowed as the wind, Dalia Montano's path had been chosen long before her birth. Chosen for Shelby and the future of their race.

  It had been Dalia's fate to bear Shelby's twin sons: a child of light, who would forever lift the dark curse of death and spare his soul from eternal damnation, and a child of darkness, who would be offered in atonement for the sins of their forefathers.

  Nathaniel trembled as the memory replayed in his mind.

  Shelby had immediately recognized all the signs—just as he should have—the blood red moon, the sudden appearance of his birth constellation in a pitch-black sky, even the matching birth mark on Dalia's inner wrist. But he had failed to consummate the ritual in time.

  Wanting to make things easier on the beautiful human female who had turned his heart as easily as she had twisted his fate, Shelby had waited too long. And in doing so, he had created a lethal opportunity for one of the shadow descendants of Jaegar to get to Dalia first.

  Valentine Nistor.

  The true undead.

  A living, breathing expression of evil itself.

  As one of the oldest and more powerful of the Dark Vampires, Valentine had managed to take Shelby's life without ever lifting a finger—without ever drawing a single drop of blood.

  Resentment stirred in Nathaniel's heart.

  The Dark One was as cowardly as he was evil. He could have fought like a warrior, but he had chosen to go after his enemy by manipulating the Blood Curse, instead. A descendant of Jadon was a very hard creature to defeat in battle.

  Nathaniel sighed and resolutely shut his eyes.

  He was fighting to keep his tears at bay, struggling wildly against the rage that was mounting in his soul. A single tear escaped, and he quickly wiped it away.

  What difference did it make? What had or hadn't happened to Dalia? The bottom line was the same: She had not given birth to Shelby's sons, and when the Blood Curse had come for the unnamed one, without the sacrifice of the darker twin to stay his sentence, Shelby had died an agonizing death of retribution. Punished for a crime he had never committed.

  Nathaniel set his jaw in a hard line. He refused to engage in what ifs and if onlys—speculating about the ancient curse or wondering what Shelby's life would have been if the damnable thing no longer existed. The Blood Curse did exist.

  And it would always exist for his kind. As sure as the sun would always rise in the east and set in the west. Like all vampires, Nathaniel had simply learned to accept it. It was an intrinsic part of their way of life.

  Kagen reached out and placed a steadying hand on Nathaniel's shoulder, his dark brown eyes focused on the ground. "You know I share your pain, brother." His voice was a mere whisper. "Like you, I have lived long enough to know the deeper tragedy of this loss. So many proud warriors gone...and for what?" He shook his head with disgust Nathaniel swayed, feeling suddenly light-headed. "I never thought it would hit this close to home. How could this have happened, Kagen? To Shelby of all males?"

  "One word," Kagen said, "Valentine." He bit down on his lower lip, and his hand began to tremble. "But we cannot shed such tears, my brother. Remember, we must still guard our emotions."

  Nathaniel knew his twin was right.

  The force of such overwhelming grief spilling onto the earth from an ancient vampire could easily call forth an earthquake or command a flash flood. As it already stood, too many humans were going to die as a result of Shelby's passing—as a byproduct of the earth's grief.

  Nathaniel nodded—his heart turning as cold and impassible as the stone slab his youngest brother now rested upon. He fisted his hands at his sides. Though he wanted to scream at the heavens, rage at the earth, weep until there were no tears left to cry, he knew he could not. His duty would not allow it.

  His honor would not abide it.

  Betraying no emotion whatsoever, he silently cursed his ancestors in the ancient tongue, daring them to retaliate—

  urging them to try and stake their claim on him before he could seek his vengeance for Shelby's death.

  And he intended to seek his vengeance.

  Kagen read Nathaniel's mind effortlessly. "You may not have a chance to impose your retribution, warrior. Not if Marquis gets to the Dark One first."

  Nathaniel glanced at his twin, noticing the subtle red embers glowing deep in the centers of his eyes. Kagen's own anger was scarcely contained.

  "That might be true, brother, but if Marquis feels so strongly, then why isn't he here?"

  "Nathaniel—"

  "Do not excuse him, Kagen!"

  Kagen shook his head. "I wasn't going to, brother."

  Nathaniel sighed. "I know exactly what you were going to say, but that doesn't mean I understand...." His voice trailed off. "Nachari's absence? Sure. He couldn't possibly make it home in time, and Shelby's journey couldn't wait. But Marquis? He sits at home embracing the torment in his soul even as the shadows grow deeper within him. It isn't healthy.

  He needs to say good-bye."

  Kagen frowned, his dark eyes filled with shared understanding. "You know he could not attend, Nathaniel.

  What did you expect him to do?" His voice held no hint of judgment. "The sky itself would have rained down blood and fire had Marquis been forced to place this blessed one in the ground. Marquis is too old. Too powerful. Too angry. I know he's always been the strong one, but I fear this may be too much...even for him."

  Nathaniel rubbed his temples in slow, methodical circles, trying to ease some of his tension. Marquis was, indeed, having great difficulty with Shelby's death. "Has he spoken to you?"

  "Briefly."

  "And?"

  "And he blames himself, Nathaniel. What do you think?"

  Nathaniel shook his head. He knew that it was more than the injustice of the Blood Curse that tormented their ancient sibling, now fifteen-hundred years old: Marquis was consumed with guilt over the way Shelby had died.

  Kagen crossed his arms in front of him. "Marquis believes that the curse should have claimed him first. The Blood should have demanded a son from him long before it demanded one from Shelby. But it's the fact that Valentine got to Dalia—" He cut off his words the moment his voice began to quiver.

  Nathaniel hissed beneath his breath. "None of us saw it coming."

  "True." Kagen shifted uncomfortably. "But Marquis is the eldest, which makes him the sworn protector of our family. In his mind, he was responsible for the safety of his less powerful brother. As a male of honor, he should have seen to the safety of the human woman."

  "It wasn't his mistake," Nathaniel insisted, knowing he felt guilty himself. "We all let Shelby down."


  Kagen rubbed his eyes; he looked weary. "I know that.

  And Nachari knows that. But Marquis—"

  "Will never forgive himself," Nathaniel supplied. He wiped his brow and shrugged his shoulders as if he could somehow lessen the weight of his grief with a gesture.

  Kagen looked off into the distance. "Marquis will have to make his own peace with what happened in time."

  Nathaniel hung his head. "Will you, Kagen? Will I?"

  A long moment of silence passed between them before Kagen spoke again. "At any rate, Marquis is far too stubborn to take counsel from either of us. Perhaps Napolean can speak with him when things settle down...make him see that we are all equally to blame."

  Maybe, Nathaniel thought. "He has to know that his leadership is still needed."

  Kagen nodded. "More now than ever..." He cleared his throat. "Nachari should arrive tomorrow evening. Being Shelby's twin, he was even closer to him than the rest of us.

  He is definitely going to need Marquis's support."

  Nathaniel agreed, although he couldn't imagine anything that would ease Nachari's pain. "Perhaps they can console each other...now that they each walk the world as only one."

  The slip was inexcusable.

  Nathaniel immediately averted his eyes and bowed his head in a slight nod of regret: a warrior's apology.

  It was rare for a vampire to refer to the missing twin of the blood sacrifice. It was simply understood that in every family, there would always be an odd number of sons—an eldest brother who walked alone, the first born of light whose twin of darkness had been sacrificed at birth. It was seen as rude to mention the one who had never been named. Impolite to even acknowledge his existence.

  Kagen overlooked Nathaniel's error. "This won't be easy for either of them. I do not look forward to all the dark days ahead of us."

  "Nor do I."

  Nathaniel stood up then and drew in a long, deep breath.

  "It is time," he whispered.

  Kagen rose to his feet and slowly nodded.

  With a wave of his hand, Nathaniel gradually began to lower the heavy stone slab deep into the earth, the body of his beloved brother resting silently upon it—uncovered, so that the earth would embrace him.