Written in Blood: A New Adult Vampire Romance Novella, Part Two. (The Unnatural Brethren Book 1)

by Silvana G Sánchez

  Vampire Tricks

  “L'argent, ou la vie!” Your money or your life, he said as he produced a small blade out of his pocket and pressed it against her neck's pale skin.

  The woman extended her trembling hand and dropped her purse on the alley's damp floor. He released her from his grasp and knelt to collect his prize while uttering a coarse laughter.

  She fled in panic and the sound of her heels as they struck against the cobblestones echoed in the narrow street and up to where I was.

  I enjoyed this scene from the commodity of my private lurking spot, high above, in the adjacent building's roof. Climbing had become quite a thing for me, because it came so easily and granted me the advantage over my prey; but it also granted me the perfect view to witness the many evil deeds committed by those fiends that prowled the City's dark alleyways—as did I.

  “I've seen enough,” I mused. Then I leaped from the two-story building and landed behind him without making a sound.

  As he got onto his feet, counting the money, I grabbed him by the shirt's collar and slammed him against the brick wall. I made sure to keep eye contact with my victim. He struggled at first when my hand grasped his throat, but as soon as he realized the fruitlessness of his endeavors to become free, he stopped fighting.

  “Qu'est-ce que tu veux?” He held my arm with shaking hands. The scent of urine penetrated my nostrils.

  “What do I want?” I said in French. “I want the same things as you do. Earlier you said, 'Your money or your life' to the whore you just assaulted... Well, I want both of them.”

  I smiled and revealed my sharp fangs to my prey before striking him down with the fierceness of my vampiric thirst. Once I pierced his flesh and got that first mouthful of warm pulsing blood, I felt truly alive. The bliss of this encounter remained unparalleled by any other—except that first Dark Drink. Dristan's blood had satisfied my every need and delivered me to Paradise and back.

  I released his lifeless body and as it hit the filthy ground, gold coins rolled from his hand.

  A church's bell struck in the distance, reminding me I should return to Deveraux Manor. I wiped my hands clean with my handkerchief and tossed the bloodied piece of cloth beside my prey… And in case you were wondering, yes. I did take the money, 'For want is nexte to waste, and shame does synne ensue.'

  She opened the door and stared at me with bewildered eyes. What startled the woman so? I looked down at my clothes, muddied and disheveled, but not a drop of blood in sight... Oh.

  “Good evening, Marthe.” I cleaned my mucky shoes on the gravel before stepping inside.

  “Bonsoir monsieur,” she said and handed me a folded piece of paper, her stupefied eyes running across my entire figure. “Mademoiselle left this message for you.”

  “Merci,” I took the message and climbed upstairs.

  “Monsieur!”

  I stopped midway. “Yes?”

  “Mademoiselle said everything you need is set up in your bedroom.”

  “Good,” I mused without the faintest idea of what she meant by those words.

  Before entering my room, I read the note.

  “Meet me at Maison Lefebvre.”

  I opened the door and caught a full view of the most luxurious wardrobe. On the chair before the dressing table lay a satin closed-knee suit in royal blue with lavish gold-embroidered floral motifs, a gold vest, embroidered as well, and on the table a pair of silk stockings and leather shoes.

  Apparently, Juliette expected I looked my best for whatever plans she had for us at Maison Lefebvre.

  Once I got rid of my tainted clothes and washed up, I glanced at my reflection in the looking glass. The image displayed before me satisfied me plenty. A subtle pinkish hue lay underneath the paleness of my skin; even my eyes seemed brighter, and I found my general appearance quite compelling—all this due to my recent kill.

  I wondered what the parlor maid would think of me now. The mere thought made me laugh as I closed the door behind me and headed downstairs.

  “Marthe, is the carriage ready?”

  “Oui, monsieur!” She ran to the door and opened it, and her curious eyes lingered upon every inch of my body.

  “Surprised to discover the charming Baron hiding underneath those muddy rags?” I wanted to say, but I did not. It filled my heart with enough joy to capture the shock in her dark eyes as I walked out the door and stepped into the carriage.

  “À la Maison Lefebvre!”

  I had not seen Juliette since my arrival last evening and dearly wanted to meet her once more. Parisians knew how to host the perfect ball. Splendor and opulence went hand in hand in their social gatherings, and judging by Juliette's choice for my attire, I expected no less from tonight's event.

  Torches illuminated the pathway leading to the manor's entrance with an almost spectral luminosity as the flames danced with the wind. The carriage stopped before the main gates and a footman dressed in black and gold livery opened the door.

  “His Lordship, Baron Ivan Lockhart!”

  The announcement resounded in the room as I crossed the doors. And I could have sworn, in that moment, every single face in the crowd turned to scrutinize me. This must have been Juliette's work. She must have created certain anticipation upon my arrival.

  Candlelight flooded every quarters of the manor, so much so that it almost blinded me. The heat it released was quite insufferable, especially when added to the warmth emitted by the throngs of guests filling up the manor's hallways and rooms.

  Gold, satin, brocade, velvet everywhere I looked. Beauty was not to be underestimated during such an occasion and I relished in the sight of it surrounding me. Large intricate golden-framed mirrors ornamented the ballroom; high above pended a huge crystal chandelier.

  Golden candelabra stood on every piece of furniture; their heated wax dripped on the enameled surfaces and no one gave a care. Such luxury remained attainable only to nobility; the mere number of candles was enough to cost a fortune... but I was a nobleman now, was I not? These things should not impress me at all.

  My preternatural senses detected Juliette long before I knew, and I was already moving in her direction when my eyes discovered her beyond the ballroom, in the parlor ahead.

  The smoke of cigarettes swirled in the room and a mixture of perfumes filled the air. The scents of sandal, roses, and jasmines lingered amidst the highlights of Parisian elite.

  She sat at the table, her green eyes fixed on her hand of cards as if her life depended on it.

  “Bonsoir mesdames, monsieur,” I said as I stood beside her.

  Her gaze drifted away from the cards and landed on mine. And as she laid the cards face down on the table, I caught a hint of her mischievous smile.

  “Bonsoir, monsieur Le Baron,” she teased. ”Voici, Jacqueline... Ceci est l'homme mystérieux dont je vous ai parlé. Mon ami, le baron Ivan Lockhart.”

  I listened as Juliette introduced me to her friend, Jacqueline, as the mysterious man she had mentioned earlier.

  “May I introduce you, Mme Jacqueline Lefebvre, our gracious hostess for the evening,” she said.

  “Enchantée, Lord Lockhart.”

  “The pleasure is all mine, Mme Lefebvre,” I said in my mother tongue while holding her hand close to my lips. “I must thank you for the courtesy of such a privileged invitation to your lovely ball.”

  Mme Lefebvre blushed. She was young, no more than three-and-twenty, but a respectable married woman, nonetheless.

  “I dare say I pride myself on organizing the most splendorous balls Paris has ever seen—after the King's, of course. I do hope you have a pleasant time, Lord Lockhart.”

  “I am sure I will, Madame.”

  “Let me introduce to you Lord Louis Grenier and his wife, Lady Marguerite Grenier,” Mme Lefebvre said. “This is Baron Ivan Lockhart.”

  “Enchanté madame, monsieur.”

  “I must steal the Baron for a moment,” Juliette said as she rose from her seat and held my arm. “He is in great n
eed of a proper tour of the premises, Jacqueline. I shall give it to him, with your approval of course.”

  “As long as you bring him back to me, Juliette, I will allow it.” She gave a hint of a devilish smile/ she smiled quite devilishly.

  Juliette slipped her hand on my arm and we moved through the parlor, towards the terrace.

  “Baron, huh?” she whispered. “It seems you forgot to mention that part of the story last night... My Lord.”

  “Perquisites do come from dealing with the Devil, ma chère...”

  “Indeed.”

  The air outside was cool and refreshing, free from the heavy fragrances permeating the manor's rooms; the evening, still and quiet. Beyond the vast gardens, the cicada's faint song entwined with the fountain's constant splash of water.

  She grew silent and leaned before the stone balustrade.

  Dark-green satin wrapped her body. The gown's square lace-rimmed neck framed her enticing cleavage. Juliette's long strawberry-red hair was arranged into soft curls. Her rosy cheeks, pink full lips, and bright green eyes held me spellbound. Such a compelling vision—if she did not speak soon, I feared I would—

  “I am happy to see you, Ivan.” She paused. “You came just in time; I was about to lose the game. Thank heavens you walked through those doors when you did!”

  Her laughter's crystalline quality enchanted me.

  “I am glad to be of service, Juliette.”

  “Tell me, Ivan. What is your opinion of my friend, Mme Lefebvre? Is she not the boldest of creatures?”

  “I cannot see what you mean, dearest.”

  “Oh my,” she covered her mouth and nose with her laced fan. “Did you not listen to her scandalous advances towards you?”

  I gave a short quiet laugh. “I believe I would remember such advances, had they been laid before me... but I fear Mme Lefebvre's conversation was confined to how much pride she takes in her glamorous execution of balls.”

  Juliette moved beside me. She glanced at the garden, symmetrical and styled in green perfection. Her scent flooded my lungs. It was that of rosewater and bergamot, and warm pulsing blood.

  I turned away, yet held her image in the corner of my eye.

  “Oh, but she said so much more than that!” She now stood before me. “Wait. You did not listen to her thoughts, did you, Ivan?”

  “How could I? Such desirable means of mischief remain within your power, chérie.”

  Juliette smiled. I wondered if my sudden effusive nature had appealed to her heart.

  “But you are mistaken, Ivan. Your new condition grants you the key to unlocking such secrets of the mind, amongst many other... shall we say, tricks?”

  How delightful it was to capture her delicate countenance as we spoke.

  “Vampire tricks? I must confess I am intrigued.” I folded my arms over my chest and narrowed my eyes as I leaned forward. “Tell me more, Miss Deveraux. How can I gain access to the most coveted vault of secrets?”

  “I will show you,” she said, and her eyes scrutinized the entire terrace. “Let us practice upon that sweet couple standing by the doorway. Do you see her?”

  “Yes.”

  “What do you see?”

  “She speaks to her lover,” I mused.

  “More than that, what else do you see?”

  Making use of my vampiric visual keenness, I fixed my eyes on the woman and studied up to the last detail of her face as she spoke.

  “Her lips, they move in constant waves of verbosity,” I said with a smug attitude. The woman's rouge-tinged lips curled and twisted as she spoke, but then something else happened. “Wait. I hear it. I can listen to every single word she is saying with pristine clarity... Dear God, will she ever stop?”

  “Good,” Juliette whispered. “Now I want you to shun that voice from your hearing and concentrate on her eyes... Focus as sharply as you can.”

  “Very well,” I mused, uncertain as to where this exercise would lead.

  It worked. By centering my attention on the woman's eyes, her speech dissolved into complete silence—thankfully enough, for her chatter was about to drive me insane. And then it became clear to me, what Juliette meant. It was not what the woman said with her lips, it went deeper than that. And as I studied her eyes' expression, an invisible door opened in my mind and enabled me to listen to what she was actually thinking.

  “Ce pauvre imbécile ! Je veux juste l'épouser pour venger ce qu'il a fait à mon père!”

  No matter how charming her tone and conversation, this woman planned to marry that man out of spite, after what he had done to her father.

  Appearances were indeed deceiving.

  This revelation of my vampiric powers amazed me. I had to try it once more and chose my next victim as Mme Lefebvre appeared behind the couple in question, at the terrace's threshold.

  What is it that you want from me, madame?

  My unnatural gaze fixed upon her as she engaged in conversation with an older man. The invisible door opened once more and there I was, inside her mind.

  “When will this old toad give up? I have no taste for his kind, it bores me to death! I fear my needs have evolved to nobility, and barons will do just fine...”

  I feared my taste had evolved as well. After all, noble blood might be more fulfilling than the blood of mercenaries, whores, and thieves.

  Mme Lefebvre took notice of my prying eyes. She ended her conversation and moved towards me.

  “Ivan, what did you do?” Juliette hissed as she pressed my arm.

  “I did nothing!”

  “You summoned her!”

  “I merely focused as you said, and heard her thoughts... scandalous, indeed!” I could even listen to them now as she approached our lurking spot at the terrace.

  “Splendid Baron, I could have you for dinner. Perhaps I will...”

  Or perhaps I would.

  “Such a lovely evening, is it not, dearest?” she said.

  “Why, yes Jacqueline. It is.”

  “I am so happy you joined us, Juliette—and your friend too. I hope you are pleased with the events so far, My Lord.”

  “Indeed, I am.”

  The minuet's first notes echoed in the ballroom and drifted to the terrace.

  “Ah! Another dance!” Mme Lefebvre said. “You must indulge me, My Lord. Minuets are my favorites.”

  “And I am certain he would, had he not promised me this dance earlier,” Juliette intervened.

  “Mme Lefebvre, what an honor,” an old man said as he drew near our small party.

  “M. Baudry, bonsoir,” Mme Lefebvre said. The man held her arm and took her away. But as she moved, Mme Lefebvre took one look back and fixed her sharp steel-blue eyes on me.

  “I must have at least one dance with you before the evening is over, my beautiful Lord.”

  It amazed me how quickly my preternatural mind had caught her silent audacious words.

  Juliette and I approached the ballroom locked in each other's arms amidst childish laughter.

  “That was a terrible faux pas, My Lord!”

  “You must forgive me, then.”

  “I do not know whether I ever shall,” she teased.

  “You said I summoned her?”

  “That sir, you did.”

  The art of summoning and mind reading had transformed all aspects of how I envisioned my endless days to come as a vampire. This wonderful tool, if managed properly, would certainly add much value to the way I devised the hunt, and I could see many other uses for it in the near future.

  There was, for instance, the tempting thought of hunting amidst la crème de la crème of Parisian society. It lingered in my mind. And this Mme Lefebvre had offered herself to me more than once already.

  I stood before Juliette on the dance floor, expecting the following minuet to begin. Her eyes locked on mine and we smiled. I could not explain it, but whenever in her presence, mortal or not, I felt an intimate connection between us. It was as powerful as Nature's reckless force, an invisib
le thread pulling us closer each time.

  The cittern's first notes opened the minuet, followed by the beat of drums and the swirling violin's accompanying melody.

  The dance began.

  “I must learn her story,” I said as our hands clasped.

  A hint of shock loomed in her eyes. “Whose story might that be?”

  “Your friend Jacqueline's, of course.” Our hands became free and we parted for a turn in the hall. I waited until we met again and when the moment came, I seized her hand with gallant care.

  “I would strongly advise against it,” she said. A most intriguing statement.

  “May I ask, why?”

  “Because you might find yourself trapped in her malicious schemes.”

  We turned and faced each other.

  “And you would prevent me from falling into such schemes?” I did little to refrain from smirking.

  “She is a married woman, Ivan.” Was that a glimpse of jealousy I noticed in her? Juliette stepped back, and once again, we faced forward.

  “Marriage may mean little impediment to some...” In truth, I cared less about the dance by the minute.

  “Of course, and this is Paris... It is common knowledge she keeps several lovers and frequents them on trips to the country.”

  “Then why not add one more to the list?” I teased.

  “Because,” she all but muttered, “you are no one's plaything.”

  “But what if I wanted to be someone's plaything?” narrowing my eyes. “Would that be so wrong?”

  Careless of the dance, Juliette stopped to face me. She blushed—either from the exercise or her wounded pride.

  The music ended and a brief ovation began.

  “I will leave you in Mme Lefebvre's company, then.” She stifled a feigned yawn of boredom. “I assure you, I desire nothing more than to go home and sleep.”

  A knowing smile curled the corner of my lips. “Dearest Juliette, but you lie.”

  “Do I?” Again, she blushed. “What can you possibly mean?”

  “I mean that you have taught me tonight's lesson too well. I have seen what is on your mind, chérie, and that is not it.”

  “Oh?” she raised her brow. “Then pray, tell me. What is?”