Voodoo Priest (Blaire Thorne Book 2)

by N Gray

  “Blaire, this is Alex and Genevieve. They are from the Vampire Council and are here to sentence Roland,” Sebastian said when I reached them.

  Alex was dressed in dark jeans with black boots, a dark green shirt, and a black jacket. His blond hair was cut short with light brown streaks, and the color of his eyes were a mix of both green and yellow; because he wore a dark green shirt, his eyes seemed greener. His features were soft and delicate, but you knew he was a man by the way he carried himself, and because his clothing was tailored, you could see it fit his athletic build perfectly.

  Alex has been staring at me from the moment I had arrived, and as I had crossed the floor toward them, I had felt the weight of his glare. Alex was slightly taller than me, and I noticed a sly smile across his face.

  The woman Sebastian introduced as Genevieve came into my view. She was standing between the two men and, because she was short, I didn’t see her until I reached them. Genevieve was a redhead, but the color was not a flaming red like Charlotte: it was a shade closer to auburn. Her blue eyes held dark secrets, and there was a scar across her right cheek, which she must have sustained before she turned into a vampire. She was petite and dainty, with small sharp features. Her smile seemed genuine when I greeted them, but the look in her eyes was not. Tension crawled along my spine, telling me to be careful. She wore a purple blouse and a skirt that stopped above her knee, with low heels.

  I felt underdressed in my sneakers, jeans, and t-shirt.

  “You are probably wondering why we called you here,” Alex said.

  “Yes, I was. This looks like vampire business?”

  Shattered glass got everyone’s attention. We all turned toward the commotion near the doorway on the far side of the hall. Envision, the three superstar vampires Sebastian had introduced me to, were having an altercation with one of the guards. Elena and a few others ran to them.

  “Why do they always have to make a grand entrance?” Salvador asked loudly from his seat.

  “Because without us, your life would be fucking boring, old man,” Heath said. He walked into the hall with his hands on his hips. His leather pants looked like they were painted on, and he was naked from the waist up.

  “I made you who you are today. Best you remember that,” Salvador scolded the younger vampire.

  “Oooh, I’m so scared.” Heath flashed fangs as he smiled. “Besides, you love this body too much.” He touched his chest seductively and slowly. When he reached Salvador, he stopped in front of the other vampire and kept his legs spread apart. He was still touching his chest, running his fingers over his nipples, giving Salvador a private show.

  Salvador watched Heath’s performance, licked his thin pouty lips, and said, “Is that all you have, little vampire?”

  Heath moved closer to Salvador so quickly, I didn’t see it. One moment he was standing, the next he was sitting on top of the other man. He was grinding his hips in front of Salvador, and they started kissing.

  Sebastian glanced at Léon, who shook his head.

  It was Léon who eventually said, “Okay, Heath, Father. Would the two of you like to take that somewhere else?”

  Salvador laughed and tapped Heath’s ass, then pushed him off.

  “Are you jealous that I didn’t come to you first, Léon?” Heath said, approaching Léon with a sway of his hips.

  I was missing something here, but before I could think to ask, someone’s power flared through the room. It was hot against my skin, and it stopped the other vampires from their bickering.

  “Show some respect, Heath. I don’t care how famous you are. At the moment, you are acting like the little shit we all know you to be, and we still have business to attend to. Let’s get that out of the way, and then you can do as you please,” Alex said, his voice deep and authoritative.

  Heath gave a small bow and waved his hand in front of him, like he was holding a hat. Kris and Steven came in behind Heath, then the three of them sat on a sofa near Salvador. Heath blew Salvador a kiss.

  Three other vampires entered. From earlier interactions with Léon, I knew one was Zachary; he managed the apartment blocks for him. With him was Jean-René, Léon’s oldest and dearest friend. Jean-René had the coolest blue eyes I had ever seen; an icy contrast to his warm personality. He was one of the more pleasant vampires to be around. He had naturally curly brown hair that I assumed would touch his shoulders if you straightened out. He was also one of the few vampires who had stubble, which suggested he had died before he had started shaving regularly. It suited him, framing his square jaw. He wore black slacks, a tailored white dress shirt, and black boots. His eyes stayed on Léon when he walked in.

  I had only seen Zachary once before. Not only was he tall, but he was wide in the shoulders. His clothing was tight against his body, and you could see his muscles moving underneath. He did some heavy weight-lifting, which was odd for a vampire. Sebastian had mentioned that he worked out with some of the guards, and he fought well. You would think all those muscles would make him stiff, but apparently, he was surprising limber. I didn’t think the guards would let him win, yet he always did—someone always had to tap out. Which meant he was much stronger than most of the guards, who were mainly were-rats, were-hyenas or were-wolves. They weren’t just muscle: they were ex-cops, ex-military, or ex-special forces.

  I knew Zachary was one of the few vampires who carried a gun. He scared me, and there weren’t that many vampires who did that. He tied his long brown hair in a ponytail which opened up his face and showed his big brown eyes, and square jaw. As he walked across the floor, the dim lights and shadows played along his face. His face went from its usual pale marble to a dark spine-tingling glare. The last time I had seen him, he had had a woman on each arm, but today he was dragging Roland behind him.

  Roland was the vampire who had tried to usurp Léon and take his place as Master Vampire of Sterling Meadow. He had ordered Miles and Danny to hire an assassin to kill Léon. That assassin was me. But Miles had had a crisis of conscience and changed his mind. He and his brother Danny had attacked me in that shady alley, to prevent Léon’s assassination. Since then, Roland had been in vampire lockup—a coffin wrapped in crosses—rendered powerless, the treacherous vampire was no longer in a position to reattempt his coup.

  Until today. The Vampire Council was here to see to that justice and Roland’s final judgement.

  Roland was bound from hand-to-foot. His eyes were sunken, and his skin was leathery and grey. He reminded me of a mummy. I guess being in a coffin locked with a cross and deprived of blood could do that to a vampire.

  The rope Zachary was using to pull him along was tied around Roland’s waist.

  “Just the vampires we’ve been waiting for,” Alex said.

  Zachary let go of Roland’s rope and came to stand beside Léon and Sebastian. He didn’t even bat an eye in my direction. Sebastian had said I shouldn’t take whatever he did personally. Apparently, it was Zachary’s belief that women were around for only two things: fornication and blood donations.

  I wouldn’t mind staying as far away from him as possible.

  Genevieve glanced at Alex, who gave a small nod, and she glided toward Roland. She stood above him, with one foot on either side of his waist, went onto her knees, and sat down, straddling him.

  Roland started whimpering at the sight of her. “No, please, anything but her.” He cried out, his eyes pleading with Alex.

  “Because of your hate for Genevieve, this is only part of your punishment, Roland.” Alex commanded.

  “Roland, do you remember the first time we met?” she asked.

  Roland shook his head from side to side. I think if he could melt into the ground, he would’ve.

  Roland had been a grey color when Zachary had dragged him in. But when he saw Genevieve, his body stiffened more than any vampire should and paled. He looked gravely ill.

  Genevieve moved up until she was sitting on his chest, loosened the rope enough so that his hands weren’t tied to h
is feet, and lifted his bound hands above his head. She started kissing him like she was patiently waiting for him to kiss her back and open his mouth to hers. Then her kissing was forceful, and he whimpered.

  Those of us who were standing stood closer to them—to watch, to witness. I couldn’t understand why Roland cried out like that, it made no sense. Genevieve was beautiful, and she was kissing him.

  Roland tried to move his arms in front of his body again to block her, but she pinned him to the floor with one hand. She made moaning sounds as she kissed him; she was enjoying the taste of him. He tried to move away from her, away from her grasp, but she held him firmly in place.

  She kissed his cheek, then his mouth again, and then her skin started to pull away from her muscles, dripping over him. His cries grew louder. The more he struggled beneath her, the more her skin and muscles started to sag away from her bones and rot. Pieces of green and brown flesh fell onto Roland, and he cried out again. Her arms were nothing but bones, and her face had sunken to little more than rotting meat. She looked like a zombie, freshly raised from the grave.

  I gasped.

  Sebastian said in my head.

 

 

 

 

  Relieved that this wouldn’t last long, but it was still disgusting. I stepped backward. My movement caught Genevieve’s attention. She stopped kissing Roland, stared at me, and laughed. That gave Roland a breather and he cried for help again. Genevieve’s muscles started forming on her bony arms and her face puffed out until she was beautiful once more. When she was whole again, she sat up and tapped his chest.

  “Now, now, Roland, that wasn’t so bad, was it?” Her smile reached her eyes. “You should be used to this. You and I share some of these qualities.”

  You could see that she had enjoyed herself. I mean, really enjoyed doing that to him. Her right arm reached behind her and grabbed his crotch. She arched backward. “You cried for help, but your body enjoyed it.”

  “I’m nothing like you, Genevieve,” Roland cried. “Please get off me.” He moved his hips around but couldn’t throw her off balance. “Please get her off me,” he yelled.

  Her hand was still behind her and she squeezed, which stopped him from moving, and he was still. Very still. Genevieve pushed herself lower over his body, lifted herself up, positioned him, and then sat down. Roland closed his eyes and his mouth parted as she started to ride him, gently, then harder and harder. She was having sex with him, in front of everyone.

  With each thrust of her hips, Roland emitted a guttural, grunting sound. Genevieve moved her hips faster and harder with him inside her, then, with each thrust, she started changing again. Her skin and muscles started to rot, and holes started forming until you could see bone. Some areas on her arms and neck turned green—and the smell. My God, the smell!

  Roland moved his arms to try to dislodge her, but Genevieve held his arms in place, and her fingers started to rot around him. He cried, ‘No,’ but no one helped him. This was his punishment, at its cruelest. She lifted his arms above his head again, and with one final thrust, they both screamed at the same time. She licked his cheek and left rotting meat in her slimy wake, and she kissed him again like she wanted to eat him from the inside.

  I held my hand in front of my mouth and swallowed hard. I would not throw up. I turned around so I didn’t have to see any more. There were noises coming from them, and I heard that they were done, but I didn’t turn around. I’d seen enough.

  Someone touched my shoulder, and I flinched. It was Zachary.

  “Don’t turn away, Blaire. All this is for you. It is justice for you and Léon.”

  “Torture doesn’t do it for me, Zachary.”

  “Let her be, Zachary,” Alex said. He turned to me. “What would you rather we do?”

  “You can do whatever is necessary; I just don’t want to witness anymore of it. And, if you need to kill him, get it over and done with already.”

  “Fine. No more torture. Get off him, Genevieve. Any last words, Roland?” Alex said.

  “Please don’t, Alex; I beg of you!” Roland cried. I turned around to look at him. He was tucked back in his pants and on his knees, begging. “Please, please. I have been in my coffin long enough. I will do whatever you wish to make this right.”

  “You have been warned before, Roland. The Council has decided.” Alex lifted his arms up, palms facing the ceiling.

  Roland was airborne, screaming. Alex clapped his hands, and a fire started in the fireplace behind us. He clapped twice, and Roland’s body smashed into the wall on the far right. Bones broke, the snapping and cracking echoing in the hall. Then his body split in half. His screams pierced my ears. He was still alive. For vampires to perish, you needed to remove their hearts and head and burn them.

  I covered my ears as best I could to drown out his cries.

  Every joint of his body pulled apart, then each limb split, and blood sprayed down over us like rain. Blood hit me in the face, in my eyes, in my mouth, and I gagged. Alex dropped his hands and the pieces of Roland’s body was flung into the fire, which sparked into tall blue flames. I was screaming.

  I was covered in the vampire’s blood.

  Sebastian came to comfort me, but I didn’t want anyone touching me. I ran for an exit but slipped in a puddle of blood near the door. Sebastian was there to pull me to my feet, and I cried into his chest. Through sobs, I whispered, “Are they always this brutal?”

  “It was necessary, Blaire,” he whispered near my ear. “I’m sorry you had to witness it, but Roland needed to suffer, and we needed to teach the others a lesson. Just in case someone wanted to do the same.”

  I was crying, almost hyperventilating. There was blood all the way down my side, and my clothing clung to my body. The blood on my skin was hardening. “I need to get this off me. I need to shower.”

  “It’s okay, Blaire,” Sebastian said as he wiped blood from my eyes with a white handkerchief. “Let me take care of you.”

  I washed my body and hair twice to make sure I was free from Roland’s blood. Sebastian left me in his room while he used Léon’s bathroom to clean up. Sawyer was drenched in blood, but he remained outside the bedroom door, guarding me. There was a soft knock on the bathroom door.

  “Who is it?” I said, switching off the water so I could hear the answer. I grabbed a towel and wrapped it around my body.

  When no one answered, I opened the door, but the room was empty. I frowned, closed the door, and got dressed into sleepwear. I was in desperate need of sleep, and I’d had enough of vampires and the voodoo man to last a lifetime. My shoulder holster was on the table. I grabbed the gun and held it in my hand. I picked up my blood-soaked clothing, threw it in the laundry basket, and opened the door to the bedroom. It was still empty. Sebastian had said he would shower and would have to return to his brother in the hall. I, on the other hand, was going to sleep.

  There was a knock on the door to the bedroom, and before I answered, someone opened it slowly. Sawyer stuck his head in and said, “Salvador is outside. He would like to speak with you.”

  “Salvador? Why does he want to speak with me?”

  Sawyer shrugged those large shoulders.

  “Fine, let him in.”

  The tall man came in so smoothly that it looked like he floated above the tiles, rather than walking. The motion was both graceful and eerie. Despite being Léon and Sebastian’s father, Salvador still looked twenty-eight, as he had for over a thousand years. He was old and, from what Sebastian had told me, powerful. So powerful that he had fathered two sons after becoming a vampire. Fathering one child showed strength enough, but two—t
hat was unheard of. Salvador was as tall as Sebastian, but with hair that was cut short and more the color of salt than pepper. His skin was the smoothest I’d seen on any vampire, like he had been carved from marble and brought back to life with a kiss. The resemblance between him and his two sons was unmistakable; they all shared a similar bone structure, but where Sebastian had green eyes with golden slivers, Léon’s were an ocean blue, and Salvador’s were a shade lighter.

  He stood before me. I’d never felt as uncomfortable with any of the vampires as I did then. He stared at me, deeply into my eyes, like he could see inside my soul. I wanted to put my gown on, but I remembered I hadn’t packed it. I saw my jacket on the floor and pulled it on.

  “It’s not cold, Blaire. Why the jacket?” he chuckled.

  “I don’t know. I felt the need to”—I didn’t want to look into his eyes, so I looked at his nose—“put something on.”

  The corners of his mouth curved upward, but the rest of his face didn’t match the smile.

  “I’m sure you were wondering why I am here, Blaire.” He stepped closer and leered down at me. “I wanted to hear it directly from you.” He paused. It wasn’t so much a pause for breath as a pause to see my reaction, as vampires only really took in air as they spoke.

  “What?”

  He removed stray hair out of my face, but there was something in the way he hesitated that told me he was being careful not to touch me. “Your light is so bright. I want to touch you, but I’m afraid I might burn.”

  Dammit.

  Since I was by myself, I had relaxed, and I may have dropped my metaphysical shields ever so slightly. I thought of metal, tall and wide.

  “You’ve been practicing.”

  I nodded. I thought only witches and clairvoyants could see the white of my aura.