Charleston Past Midnight (11 page)

“Mmm … Calla.”

“And I’ll be honest. The only time you ever hurt me was that first night in the woods, when your fangs entered me. But even then it was only for a brief moment before the pleasure replaced it.”

“Ah, forgive me for that, Calla. That first scent of your unique blood drove me mad. I was too eager to take from you that I was careless and didn’t prepare you like I did in the bathroom tonight. You see, if I glamour you—place you in a daze before my bite—then you will feel nothing but extreme pleasure. Forgive me for any unnecessary pain I caused you that first evening. You have my word as a gentleman that it will never happen again.”

I nuzzle his cheek and whisper, “Now
that
would be very disappointing, vampire.”

His palms clamp down onto my shoulders, and I’m pulled back a few inches. His eyes bore into mine, full of question as he asks, “Disappointing, how?”

“Because I find your bite—your everything—to be unimaginably sexy, Severin. Wait, your eyes …. Why didn’t your irises turn black this time?”

“You noticed.”

“Of course I did. It’s downright disconcerting when it happens, but it also really turns me on.”

I try to look away but he catches my chin in one quick flash of movement and gently turns my face back to his as he rumbles, “I
really
like hearing about you being aroused for me,
ma belle fleur
. And to answer your question, they turn when I’m about to either feed or fight, and although sex and drinking blood are both intense actions they are quite different in the reactions they cause. My eyes stayed blue because I had recently fed. Speaking of which, we need to feed
you
now. Here, let’s get these cuffs off you and get you dressed. I’ll make you something to eat. You must be famished.”

“Oh, I
am 
… and around you that seems to be a constant feeling.”

His eyes watch me closely for a long moment before his arms wrap me tight and his forehead presses against mine.

His accented voice cuts softly through the space as he says, “Calla, my angel.”

I languish in the safety of his comforting hold. For in this flawless moment in time all the exterior worries of outside threats and stress seem both trivial and meaningless. Here, together, we are powerful and untouchable.

For now, that’s enough. It has to be.

Chapter Eleven

April 4
^th
1756, Pre-Dawn

The Woods near Beauvais Plantation

“K
aterina, we must move him,
right now
. The sun will be coming up any moment and the humans are moving this way. If that’s not enough, I just detected Valdon’s presence. It’s not safe. I’ll carry him if I must, but we are leaving.”

“Give him just another minute, Ambrose. He has lost a lot of blood from the gash to his leg. Let him drink. I don’t want to lose him. You know that he’s special.”

I listen to the large man and the intriguing woman above me disagree, but their voices seem distant, nearly dreamlike, as I languish in the delicious fluid that is taking all my earlier pain away.

The man hisses in agitation, “His eyes are changing. He’s beginning to turn. We go
now.
No more lingering.”

The woman sighs and brushes my cheek before pulling her ivory wrist from my eager lips.

“You’ll have more in a while, warrior. Just hold on and be strong.”

I’m still alive?

I struggle to push up onto my elbows, feeling strange and foreign in my own skin. My heart is pounding so loudly in my ears but it sounds different, booming. In fact, everything around me is too much … too loud.

I clasp my head to stop the spinning motion that rivals the time I drank a half a cask of spiced rum from Barbados with two of my mates.

“Ambrose, he’s too disoriented. You’ll have to trace him. We don’t have a choice. We’re cutting it close. The sun is about to filter down through the trees. Let me help you get him over your shoulder.”

My world tilts on end as I’m slung over the shoulder of a man my size. I struggle to focus on him but see only what’s right next to me; blond hair pulled into a leather tie at his thick neck.

I’m struggling to stay conscious when I hear him say, “I hope that he proves to be worth the risk, Katerina.”

“I’ve watched him for years now, Ambrose. He is well worth it. I could never let such a magnificent individual perish.”

“So be it. Are we tracing to Seville?”

“Yes, there he’ll be safe and have a chance to recover. Keep a tight hold on him. Go now, and I’ll follow directly behind you.”

* * *

I open my eyes to see an intricately patterned crimson-red carpet that I’m …
staring down at?

That familiar chiming voice calls out, “Let’s see if he can stand. Place him onto his feet but keep a hold of him.”

My feet touch the ground, and though my body is pulsing strangely, I forget everything else as I stare into the face of the most stunning women I’ve ever seen in my life.

She touches the back of my hand and asks, “Severin, can you hear me?”

I nod once, not even certain if I can find my voice, much less my balance. I pitch forward and grasp at one of the posts of a massive canopy bed.

“Ambrose, let’s get him seated in the chair close to the fire.”

My arm is slung over the shoulders of the tall man and I’m half walked, half dragged to the black leather chair. I gratefully collapse into it and notice the dark stain of a blood-soaked, once white shirt that is tied around my upper thigh.
The blond man is shirtless … did he save me?
If so, he did it without operating on me. How so?

I begin to panic, wondering why I can’t feel any pain in the area.
Maybe I’m not alive. Am I dreaming?

Thoughts begin to flood my brain as I stare up at the two complete strangers before me.

The red-haired woman sits in a chair opposite me and asks, “How are you feeling?”

I strain to answer her. “Strange.” My throat is raw and my voice raspy.

“You’re faring better than most, considering your circumstances.”

I ask slowly, cautiously, “Which are?”

The large man moves closer to her, as if sensing my confusion and agitation.
Does he think I mean her harm?
Not likely. I can barely move.

“Severin, there is something you need to know, but before I tell you, please understand that you are amongst friends who will never harm you. One day you may even come to know us as family.”

Is this woman delusional
? She is dressed strangely, as if from a foreign time and from long ago. She wears no corset and her lush chest is on display, barely concealed beneath the snow-white velvet of her seductive gown. A headband of twisted gold leaves adorns her waist length hair. I must be unconscious and dreaming because if this mysterious woman wasn’t strange enough, I find myself sitting in a vast room that appears to be of Moorish design.
But that’s impossible. There’s nothing like this outside of Northern Africa and Spain.

Quickly I demand, “
Where
am I?”

Instantly she replies, “Spain.”

“Spain?” The word falls from my lips before I even know I uttered it.

“Yes, Severin. You are in our home in Seville, Spain. Here … I brought your beloved rapier so that you would have something from your past life.”

I press my hand to my forehead in disbelief as I repeat, “Past life?”

She opens my trembling hand, presses the hilt of my sword into my palm, and curls my fingers closed around it. Leaning in to look at me with those gleaming eyes, she says gently, “The life you knew before is over, Severin. Your wound from the swordfight was fatal. I turned you just before your heart stopped.”

I can’t breathe, can’t think …. It feels like I’ve been thrown into an arctic sea. I must know ….

In just above a strangled whisper I ask, “Turned me … into
what?
”

Her soft hand still covers mine. Anxiously, I wait for her response and watch as she looks up at the large male standing over her shoulder. He stares down at her and nods once. Her eyes meet mine once again, and for the first time in my life I’m frightened, because within them I see a myriad of conflicting emotions. Suddenly I want nothing more than to shut down my senses.
If I can’t hear her then I don’t have to know what’s coming.

The words that would forever be etched into my soul fall from her shimmering pink lips, “A vampire, Severin. You’re like us now—a vampire.”

I stare into her face, utterly dumfounded.

After several seconds my head shakes slowly back and forth and I manage to mutter, “No. Not possible.”

The man speaks up, his clear voice distinctly British, “That’s what I bloody thought as well, mate. It’s all right; the shock will wear off before long. I’m called Ambrose, by the way.”

I struggle to stand, dazed and in shock. I manage to make it to my feet, and still clutching my rapier I say, “I have to get out of here. My family ….”

With a look of sadness in her eyes, the woman says, “I’m sorry, Severin. One day you may be able to see them, but not now. You must rest. You’ve been through so much today.”

“No, you don’t understand—”

She cuts me off as she rises to her feet in one impossibly fluid blur of movement that makes me gasp. “Ah, but I do, Severin. I understand all too well. But without us, you would be dead inside of a few days. Once you have learned the rules of survival in our very different society, then I will give you the choice to set out on your own, but for now, as your maker, you are under my protection and it is my responsibility to see that no harm comes to you.”

I can’t believe that I heard her correctly. “My maker? Who
are
you?”

“My name is Katerina, Severin. I am originally from the old kingdom of Prussia and I was made into what I am now in the year 1570. The sooner you come to terms with what you are and work on building your strength, the more likely your chances of survival. I’ll be honest with you, Severin. Only the strongest fighters have a chance. Are you what I believe you to be, warrior?
Are
you a fighter?”

My eyes narrow and I watch her closely. “I always have been. It’s my nature.”

She lifts her chin. “And that’s
exactly
why I decided to turn you. Come, it won’t be dark here for several more hours yet, and you have much to learn, warrior.”

Chapter Twelve

Present Day

Decisive Action

S
he seems calm and satiated. I watched her nearly devour the turkey and sliced apple panini that I made for her. She takes a long drink of Perrier and glances around the brick, barrel-vaulted kitchen. Her crossed legs are swinging to and fro as she sits atop the striated marble center island. I offered her a seat earlier, but in typical Calla fashion she wanted to inspect what I was preparing firsthand. I admit; I more than enjoy her closeness and casual demeanor.

“So, this fancy kitchen and the stocked fridge, I have to ask …. Do you eat regular food?”

I chuckle at her inquisitiveness. “Yes,
especially
after an intense workout … sex or otherwise.”

“But … you didn’t eat just now.”

I finish wiping down the panini press, rinse my hands in the steel sink, and clasp the back of one of her shapely calves. “That’s because my needs were
more
than met in the bathroom earlier.”

I listen as her breathing grows more rapid, and she says with some effort, “I see.”

Tracing my fingers against the smooth perfection of her skin, I continue, “Human blood is the central component of our diet, Calla. We could survive on animal blood; however it could never provide the strength and vitality that we gain from drinking from people. Going without blood altogether would be the equivalent of a human foregoing water for two weeks … fatal.”

“How often do you drink it?”

“If you are referring to blood, it depends on my activity level—not unlike your hunger. Typically I drink twice a week and eat regular food once a day, which I very much enjoy.

“Do you require human food to survive?”

“No. We would survive on human blood alone. It offers enough vital properties to adequately nourish our bodies. However, consuming food provides additional energy for us. I would compare it to giving an athlete a large bottle of Gatorade during a long game. I’m happy that we can eat and drink on a regular basis. It reminds me of when I was human.”

Her serious eyes gaze up at me and she asks in a whisper, “And just when was that, Severin?”

My eyes roam her flawless face before I say with a long sigh, “I suppose you should know, and now is as good a time as any to tell you, Calla. I have existed as a vampire for two hundred and fifty-eight years and have walked the earth for a total of two hundred and eighty-three years.”

She gasps and tries to conceal her flinch, but it’s inevitable.

Her features reflect both shock and confusion that swiftly morph into disbelief as I continue on, “I was born in the year 1731. At the age of twenty-five, in the year 1756 I was fatally wounded in a sword fight with an adversary over a dispute regarding my sister, Sabine.” I roll my shoulders to throw off the tension. Taking a deep breath, I explain, “A man named Sterling Anson attempted to … have inappropriate relations with her whilst at a party in out plantation home. I challenged him to a swordfight over Sabine’s honor, in which he was slain and I was fatally wounded.”

I give her a moment to allow the foreign information to soak in. After several seconds she nods and says quietly, “Go on.”

“As I lay dying on the lawn, a female vampire—my creator, Katerina—dragged me off into the surrounding forest and turned me. Two years earlier she’d done the same with Ambrose, and once I became what I am now they became my second family. We are a considerably rare and secretive species, Calla. The limited factions that are in existence throughout the world generally keep to themselves unless there is a strong motive for conflict.”