Bloodcraft (21 page)

“No need to worry. It is finished between us,” Christian said in a dead voice. He cracked his knuckles in a nervous gesture, desperate for something to drink, anything to numb the rawness of the feelings surging through him. He stalked over to the wet bar at the end of the conference room and poured himself a liberal drink. He drained the glass and poured another.

“That is for the best.”

Christian frowned and faced the Elder. “Regardless, I won’t hurt her, if that is what you are suggesting. Even if we are on the brink of war, there is nothing that will induce me to harm her in any way.”

“What if it is to defend your people? Her powers are legendary. If she loses control, it’s not just the vampires who will be at risk of total destruction. Everyone else will be as well—the witches, humans, everyone. There will be nothing left.”

“If the Reii were so strong, why didn’t they stop the Duchess of Lancaster?” Christian asked.

“I do not know why the Reii chose to stand aside and watch their progeny get massacred, but that is what they did. From what I can gather in the memories that were passed on to me, they chose not to awaken and come to our defense.”

“Why?”

“Because we had grown lazy, fat, and indolent. Our ranks needed to be culled. The last time any of us even
saw
a true Reii was when you were made.” He shrugged. “We don’t know why she appeared for you, of all people, but Enhard knew that it had to be kept a secret. The truth of your lineage would have put you in terrible danger from the other vampire houses. After you accepted the change, no one saw Sezja again. For all we know, she could be dead.”

“She isn’t.” Christian’s words were quick. He didn’t know how he knew that fact, only that he did. Sezja—his maker—was alive somewhere. He also sensed that he could find her or summon her if he needed to. Such was the bond between a maker and his progeny. He wasn’t sure he was ready to face her, though, not when the knowledge of his vampire birthright was so fresh.

“Christian, one more thing. At peak strength, you can walk in the daylight for prolonged periods.” David smiled. “It is one of the better perks of our bloodline.”

Christian stared at the expanse of the glittering city below as David’s words sank in. He couldn’t fathom walking in sunlight without pain. For an unguarded moment, he thought of Victoria and walking hand in hand with her through the Tuilleries in daylight. He imagined the sun glistening on her hair and the warmth of it on her skin as they strolled through the gardens. The scenic vision metamorphosed into one of a war-torn Paris with Victoria standing on one end and he on the other, thousands of innocents caught in the cross fire. With a stifled sigh, he shoved the image away.

“What of my progeny?” he asked David, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Lena. Will she have accelerated powers?”

David nodded. “Yes. Less than yours, but hers won’t manifest for centuries yet.” He hesitated. “Once word gets out about your new strengths, it won’t be long before she finds out. Others, too, will seek to control her, namely your brother.”

At the mention of Lucian, Christian felt the same twinge in his blood—the one he’d felt earlier signaling that his brother was in danger. He was alive, but the threat was still present. It didn’t make sense. What was he up to?

“Speaking of Lucian, have you heard from him?”

David shook his head. “No.”

“When is the vote scheduled for the final appeal?”

“In three weeks.”

Christian nodded, clasping his hands behind his back and striding toward the table. He knew that Lucian would not be executed, especially if he gave his testimony to the Council that Lucian hadn’t directly killed Enhard, but the punishment would be severe. They had tolerated his machinations long enough, and too many vampires on the Council felt that Lucian needed to be put in his place. What had happened with Enhard had been the last straw. As much as Christian wanted to protect his brother, he knew that Lucian would have to pay some price for his actions.

Given his relationship with the accused, Christian had been recused from the vote, but at the very least, he suspected they would strip his brother of his leadership over the House of Devereux and of all his material assets. Exile was also an option. Other brutal punishments had spanned the gambit over the years—a thousand silvered lashes, trial by fire, teeth removal, which was by far the cruelest sentence short of death since vampire teeth did not regenerate.

Christian wondered whether his change in status would affect the outcome of the vote—it was no secret that he would defend his brother to his last breath, if it came to that. He also knew that that was the reason Lena had come to see him. She wanted him to convince the Council to spare Lucian. He had considered it, but he understood more that his brother needed to face the music or he would never stop. And truth be told, if Lucian wanted his help, he’d have to damn well ask for it.

He glanced at the clock on the wall. The High Council was due to meet in a quarter of an hour, a meeting that both he and David were expected to attend. It was to discuss the recent slew of murders and whether they were going to declare a full out war against the Witch Clans. Tensions within the general council were already mounting, and the emergency meeting of the High Council had been called to determine the appropriate course of action.

“Thank you, David, for your counsel. I’ll meet you shortly in the grand hall. I need to make a phone call. I trust I can count on your discretion.”

“Of course.” The Elder hesitated in the doorway. “Your Grace?”

“Yes?”

“For what it’s worth, I did like Victoria,” David said. “Very much. And I know how much you cared for her. Sometimes, these things are simply not meant to be, no matter how hard we wish for them.” He stopped, as if considering his words. “If there was anyone who could have brought our people together, it would have been the two of you. I know that Enhard believed that with all his heart.”

Christian couldn’t hide the pain that slashed through him and he took a strangled breath to compose himself. He nodded mutely to David before the vampire took his leave and slumped into one of the chairs, staring into space. He wondered if Victoria would still hear his thoughts across the miles and he had to fight to keep the wall he’d erected in place. He wanted nothing more than to hold her, to bury his face into her sweet-smelling hair, and to forget about the outside world. His fingers clenched into fists as the need surged within him like a writhing beast. It was worse than the hunger. The walls of the conference room started closing in on him and Christian leapt to his feet. He didn’t look up until he was in the heavily shaded outdoor courtyard on the roof.

Once outside, Christian felt better. He flicked out his cell phone and dialed his brother. It went straight to voicemail. He didn’t bother to leave a message. He called Lena next, but she had no idea where he was either. There was another way for him to contact his brother, but Christian was loath to use it. The sense of danger was still there, though, lurking beneath the surface of his skin. He sighed and pushed his awareness outward.

Lucian.

He waited, knowing his brother could choose not to respond. It would be just like him to ignore the mental communication. To his surprise, an answer came back rapidly.

To what do I owe the honor, brother?

Christian bristled at the sarcasm, but kept his voice monotone.
I sensed you were in trouble.

You sensed wrong,
Lucian replied.
As you can tell, I am quite well.

Where are you?

Paris.

Lucian was being deliberately vague and, for a moment, Christian wanted to know where he was. Lucian had many friends in dark places and Christian knew that he wouldn’t accept the Council’s decision without a fight. Lucian would go down kicking and screaming, taking as many as he could with him. Christian wouldn’t put it past him to seek clemency from other species who hated the vampires.

Lucian—

What is it?
Lucian drawled.
Worried for my wellbeing? It’s a little too late for brotherly concerns, isn’t it? Don’t worry about poor little Lucian. Turns out he can look after himself after all.

Now isn’t the time for your riddles and your games, Lucian,
Christian snapped.
We are on the brink of war with the witches.

A laugh.
Oh, I know. I just hope for your sake when that happens that you are on the right side. Soon your luck will run out, and I will be there to pick up the pieces of what should rightfully be mine.

Where are you?
Christian asked.

Making new friends. Now bugger off, mon cher frère, before my friends get offended.

The link was abruptly severed and Christian frowned. The threatening feeling was there, roiling beneath the surface. He shrugged it off. If his brother didn’t want his help, then there was nothing he could do. He only hoped that Lucian didn’t do anything foolish, especially anything that would strain the already tenuous relations between the vampires and the witches. But Lucian could only be counted on for doing what was in his own best interests.

He thought back to his newfound gifts and how he had been able to sense David’s arrival earlier. He took a deep breath. Time to put his new abilities to the test. Christian closed his eyes and focused on his brother’s essence, tracing it backward through the hundreds of other energies pressing upon them. In his mind’s eye, he came to a shadowy alley where he could see a half-consumed body hanging against a blood-spattered wall—Kristos, his brother’s first in command. Dark shadows congregated around it as if consuming the vampire’s remains. They froze, sensing his presence, and Christian recoiled. His brother had been here, but then he had simply vanished. There was no other trace, which could only mean one thing—he’d been teleported somewhere.

The question was by whom?

Christian snapped back into himself. Lucian had always had a fondness for witches and using their magic to further his own agenda. Had he found another? He focused on the alley again, pulling it clearly into his head. This time, he noticed all the details he had missed—like the scuffle marks on the wet ground and the faint smell of sulfur in the air.

Suddenly, the shadows converged upon Kristos’s body scuttled out of the way and he turned to study them. Something had scared them. He peered closer. The wraiths were staring at
him
.

Because he was standing right there in that alley.

He could feel the cobbled stones pressing into his shoes, see the layers of grit on the surrounding brick walls, smell the rot coming off of Kristos’s half-eaten body. He tapped the toe of his shoe against the ground, hearing the clipped sound echo off the stone, and watched as the wraiths retreated even further.

He’d been so sharply focused on the memory of the surroundings that he hadn’t even realized he had moved. But he had—he had crossed whole districts in the blink of an eye. Christian shook his head, trying to orient himself. He was indeed standing in the very same alley he’d been so intent upon in his head as if he had willed himself there. What he had done was impossible—vampires couldn’t teleport.

But they could fly.

And he was the direct descendant of a Reii.

Was it possible? Had he flown without realizing it? He shook his head. He’d worry about that later. Right now, he needed to figure out what had happened here with his brother and how he had disappeared. The odor of sulfur was faint, but he traced it back to a spot near the darkened end of the alleyway. Something—no, someone—had summoned a demon, or had been in the process of summoning a demon. He frowned at the marking on the cobblestones. The beast hadn’t fully materialized. Still, the only creatures that summoned demons were warlocks.

What was Lucian doing in the company of
warlocks
?

A clicking noise behind him had him spinning to confront a threat, but there was nothing there. The clicking sound echoed again, and Christian squinted into the darkness, watching as something took shape. He readied himself, but recognition took the place of worry as a familiar feline shape sauntered into view.

“Leto, what are you doing here?” he said, although not expecting an answer. The familiar only communicated through his master, and she was not here. He would have sensed her in a heartbeat. The cat sat, staring at him with intense green eyes, as if it could see right through him. Christian shrugged. “I don’t suppose you’ve seen Lucian?” He jerked a head at Kristos. “Or whatever killed him?”

The familiar eyed him, unblinking, for several long moments before sauntering off without a backward glance. Christian shook his head. There was never any love lost between them, but without Victoria there to translate the cat’s thoughts, they could be strangers. It was odd, he thought, that the familiar had been so indifferent, almost as if he hadn’t recognized him. Then again, Leto had changed since they had come to Paris, becoming more and more disconnected over the weeks, so much so that Victoria had thought to mention Leto’s ambivalence to him.

He glanced at his watch, noticing that he was going to be late for the Council meeting. Time to see if he could get himself back to La Défense in one piece or come up with some fantastic excuse as to how he ended up on the other side of the city. He wasn’t quite sure how he had done it the first time, but he guessed it had to do with visualizing a target destination.

Inhaling slowly, he drew the rooftop garden into sharp focus in his head and, after a few seconds, felt his body rise off the ground. And then he was moving so fast, it seemed as if the world was rushing past in an indistinct shimmery blur. The cool air pushed against his face and the city of Paris twinkled like a sea of lights below him. He barely had a chance to savor it when the obsidian shape of the Tour Areva loomed into view, and he was right back where he started. It had taken him all of three seconds to fly eight miles. Christian grinned.

Now
this
, he could appreciate.

FOURTEEN