Blood Curse (16 page)

Aria gasped, reflexively opening her eyes. Her gaze collided with a pair of platinum white orbs set in an old shriveled face. The woman was covered in a hooded cape, but a trail of long, ratty white hair peeked out from beneath the hood. She looked every inch like an evil old hag. Aria would have screamed and run, but the witch's eyes shocked her motionless.

"You're blind."

"Oh, but I still see clearly,” she answered with a crooked smile that looked ghastly against her pale wrinkled face. “Now you must see."

The witch, or The Dream Teller, backed away and crooked a gnarled old finger, indicating that Aria should follow her as she walked back into the trees. Aria started to refuse, but then she felt another presence. Rialto.

She followed the witch at a safe distance until they reached a clearing. They stopped at the edge of the trees and looked out upon a group of people dressed in nineteenth century attire. They were travelers, judging by the wagons sitting on the other side of the clearing. Men and women danced jovially around a bonfire as a small band performed music. They were dressed elegantly for travelers, obviously a rich family moving to new land. One woman stood to the side, leaning against a tree with a dreamy expression on her beautiful porcelain face.
She's remembering the feel of Rialto's lips from the night before.

Aria felt a pang of jealousy as the thought hit her. She didn't understand how she knew what was going through the ebony-haired beauty's mind, but she did. She heard the thought as if it were spoken aloud. She looked closer at the woman. She was dressed in a long dress made of the finest silk, a beautiful clear blue to match her eyes. Her long black curls were stacked and pinned into a regal style on her head, and her full ruby red lips were delicately arched into the faintest of smiles beneath her pert little nose. She was exquisite. Rialto loved her.

"Yes,” The Dream Teller said, although Aria hadn't spoken aloud. “Her name was Antonia. She was Rialto's first love."

Aria felt the need to scream as the hairs on the back of her neck stood straight up. The coldness grew more intense. “Someone's coming. Something horrible is going to happen to these people.” She looked at the witch and somehow could see the agreement in her sightless eyes. Then she looked at the wagons where she instinctively knew children slept. “We have to warn them."

"It has already happened,” the witch advised, a trace of sadness in her voice. “You are watching a scene from 1842, and there is nothing you can do to alter it. They can't even see you, much less hear you."

Aria's heart rose in her chest as she heard the sound of hooves pounding on the ground. She wanted to close her eyes, already sensing what was going to happen, but something compelled her to keep them open.

The dancers around the bonfire halted when the men on horseback came into view, swords and axes ready at their sides. The look of terror in the travelers’ eyes gripped Aria's heart as they too sensed what was to come next.

"I don't want to watch,” she whispered to the witch, turning her back on the scene. She folded her arms across her chest in a futile effort to ward off the cold and the helpless feeling of not being able to do anything to prevent the travelers’ doom. She listened against her will as the arguments ensued between the male travelers and the seven men on horseback, trying to block her ears with her hands. The arguing turned into screaming as the raiders robbed the travelers and killed the men who tried to protect their women.

She felt the tears well up in her eyes as the women's agonized screams indicated they were being violated. The tears flowed freely when she felt the moment Antonia was raped by three of the attackers. She felt each stab of pain, each tear of intimate flesh as the woman was repeatedly violated. Mostly, she felt the pain in Antonia's heart as the woman thought Rialto would no longer want her. She would never bear his children.
She didn't know what Rialto was.

"No, she had no idea he was a vampire,” the witch said, reading her mind again.

After what seemed like hours Aria turned and saw the bodies of the male travelers littering the ground. From behind the trees at the other side of the clearing, two women crawled toward the wagons where children's horrified faces peeked out. Aria wanted to scream in outrage, but she couldn't find her voice.

"Come,” the witch instructed, leading Aria through the clearing. She cringed as they walked around the bodies of the victims, some dead, some close to it, but she followed behind the witch as if in a trance.

They entered the trees at the other side of the clearing and followed the trail of blood. Antonia's blood. Aria cried out in horror when they came upon her body sprawled beneath a tree, covered in her own blood and half naked. Aria could feel the anger and pain radiating from within Antonia's limp body as the woman wished with her dying breaths that the men who attacked her would suffer. She wished their blood would spill for what they had done.

"She was so full of hate and vengeance after the assault,” the witch stated softly as she raised her hand to the sky. It suddenly grew even darker. “Rialto has finished feeding. Now he will come."

The witch had barely finished speaking when Aria felt his presence nearing. He was excited. He'd met with Antonia nightly for weeks, as her family traveled to their new home. He had fallen in love with her quickly, intrigued by her purity and beauty. She was so innocent, such an opposite to the darkness which surrounded him. He knew he would eventually have to tell her what he was, and that frightened him, but he hoped their love could survive her initial shock.

Aria felt her heartbeat quicken as he neared the clearing. She couldn't see him but she felt his terror as he saw the bodies and realized what happened.

"Where's Antonia?” she heard him ask, fear and rage lacing his voice.

Aria blinked when she saw him come into view. He was dressed in the style of the century, but otherwise he looked exactly the same. As he came upon Antonia's dying body, he looked so real Aria reached out to touch him, only to discover that her hand wouldn't go the distance. There seemed to be an invisible shield between them.

"He is not real, just a memory. You can't comfort him here."

Aria didn't respond to the witch's comment. She felt an excruciating pain in her chest. Instinctively, she covered her heart with her hand, knowing Rialto's emotions were surging through her. His heart was breaking.

"Antonia?” His voice trembled with fear, sorrow, and anger. The emotions battled with each other for dominance as he kneeled next to Antonia's weak body. He wanted to scream, to cry, to kill, but mostly he wanted to save Antonia's life. “Antonia, please answer me."

"Rialto?” Antonia's voice was weak, fading like the rest of her. She moved her battered head, and Aria saw the recognition in her eyes as she gazed up into Rialto's face. She saw that recognition turn to shame as Antonia struggled to cover her exposed breasts.

"It's all right, Antonia. I will not let you die. Have no fear. We will be one."

"How?"

"I will fill you with my blood, and after you sleep you will awake in a healthy, mended body."

Antonia's eyes narrowed. “You lie to me so that I do not cross over with regrets and wander the earth instead of going to meet the Maker."

"No, it is true,” Rialto said. “You will not die. I will not let you."

Aria watched as Rialto's fangs descended. She could feel the anxiety coursing through his blood as he prayed that he did this right. He'd never changed anyone over, but he remembered how Seta had done it to him. Aria could also feel Antonia's emotions. She was horrified.

"Vampire!” Her eyes widened in terror as she looked into Rialto's face. His fangs were fully descended and his eyes glowed with his dark power.
"Diavolo!"

"No!” Rialto cried as he felt the contempt and loathing in Antonia's tone, and Aria instinctively knew Antonia had called him
devil
. She felt the pain in Rialto's heart, and once again wanted to comfort him, but she was helpless to do so. “It is a gift, Antonia. My mother saved me from death in the same way."

"No, Rialto. Let me go to God!"

But he didn't. He had walked the earth as a vampire for a decade either by himself or with Seta. He was lonely and craved a mate. “You will see when you awaken,” he said firmly, and dipped his head to Antonia's neck, ignoring her pleas to stop.

Aria watched as he drank from Antonia until she just barely hovered over death, then used one of his incisors to pierce through his own wrist. He waited for the blood to form a small bubble over his skin and then brought his wrist to Antonia's lips. She jerked her head away in disgust. “Please . . .” she barely managed to whisper. Whether Rialto didn't realize she was trying to say “Please don't,” or if he knew it and just ignored her Aria didn't know, but he held Antonia's head firmly and forced her to drink his blood. After the first three forced swallows, Antonia's survival instinct kicked in and, despite her mind's protests, her body forced her to continue swallowing the lifesaving blood being offered to her.

Rialto eventually jerked his hand away, holding Antonia off as he licked his wounded wrist. As the skin healed, Antonia gave up further attempts to suckle more blood and slumped to the ground.

"It is still several hours before dawn, but we shall rest early tonight,” Rialto said softly, as he lifted Antonia from the ground and carried her away.

"Did she survive the night?” Aria asked, watching Rialto leave.

"Unfortunately, yes,” the witch answered. “She never should have been changed over. She had been violated, and with her heart and soul full of hatred and contempt, she was in the wrong state of mind. Then Rialto, so desperate in his need for companionship, ignored her pleas to let her die. He meant no harm, but in his own way he too had violated her, and she had trusted him."

"Until she knew what he really was,” Aria interjected.

"That's right. She loved Rialto the man, but not the vampire. Her mind could not accept that the two were the same."

"What happened when she awakened?"

"She went mad."

"Why did you show me this?"

"So you can understand."

"Understand what?"

"His greatest fear. You must protect him."

Aria blinked. “Rialto said you'd sent him to protect me."

"Watch out for the vampire,” the old witch said.

And then she vanished.

Aria opened her eyes, vaguely aware of the hard wood beneath her and the warmness which enclosed her.

"Aria?"

She blinked until the room came into focus. She was back in the church, and Christian stood hovering over her, a deep frown marring his golden complexion.

"Are you all right?"

"Yes,” she murmured as she slowly straightened herself up, shaking off the last bit of chill that followed her out of her dream. Christian settled into the pew beside her, watching her closely. “What is it?"

"You were talking in your sleep,” he answered.

"And?"

"You were speaking in Italian."

"What? That's not possible. I can't speak Italian.” Aria thought about her dream. She had understood everything that was said, but when she thought hard . . . “They
were
speaking another language."

"Rialto and Antonia?"

Aria jerked her head to the side so she could look Christian fully in the face. “How did you know that?"

"You said their names. If I'm not mistaken you just dreamed about something that happened a long time ago."

"You know what Rialto is, don't you?"

"Yes."

"And you don't condemn him?"

Christian smiled, but the gesture didn't reach his eyes. “How can I condemn him for being what I am?"

Aria gasped as realization dawned. “But you're . . . you're . . .” She sputtered, trying unsuccessfully to complete a coherent sentence but her shock was too great. “How can you be a pastor and a . . . a . . ."

"A vampire?"

She nodded, letting her gaze take him in, wondering why she hadn't seen it before—the power which surged under his calm and peaceful demeanor.

"I served the Lord before I was changed over, and I have continued to serve Him since. I won't let evil that was forced upon me blacken my heart or my soul."

"You must be one conflicted guy,” Aria said without thinking, and Christian laughed softly.

"It isn't always easy being me, but we all have our struggles to get through. I am no different from anyone else in that respect. But, I am concerned about you.” His expression and tone grew serious again. “That didn't sound like a very nice dream."

"It was disturbing, to say the least.” Aria shuddered, remembering the senseless slaughter she'd witnessed. She suppressed the urge to cry as she recalled the pain she had sensed in both Rialto and Antonia. “Did you know Antonia?"

"I know of her,” Christian answered gravely. “Did the old witch with the platinum eyes come to you in your dream?"

"You've seen her?"

"Yes.” Christian briefly closed his eyes, his jaw clenched. “At first glance you may think she is handicapped but those sightless eyes of hers see more than you could imagine. Did she warn you of anything?"

Aria thought back to her dream, to the moment the old witch approached her and it felt as if death itself were stepping towards her.

"No!” She grabbed Christian's hand and shook her head, denying her memory. “It can't be true."

"What can't be true?” Christian asked, giving her hand a reassuring squeeze. “What did The Dream Teller say?"

"Rialto! She said he's dying!"

Rialto leaned against a tree while Seta gave him the details of her latest vision. He was weaker than he'd felt in decades, since before changing over, and he could feel his heart racing, as though he were a mere mortal just finishing a marathon. The day sleep would restore most of his energy, he knew, but he had a sinking feeling that as soon as he ventured out into the night again it would diminish rapidly. How was he supposed to save Aria like this?

Seta's latest vision was of several rows of books with blood spilling from the pages . . . and Eron. “What do you think?” She asked as she turned to look at him, her brow creased in a frown.