Immortal Obsession (17 page)

Chapter Twenty-Four

S
OLANGE ROLLED OVER
in the darkness into the arms of her newest lover, Augustin. He was a powerful vampire for one so young. At only one hundred years old, he had acquired a reputation for being dangerous and extremely arrogant, qualities she needed in a lover and admired in a companion. He reminded her of Gaétan in many ways, yet he was more ruthless, bordering on vicious. Solange needed Augustin. He loved making her happy, not just in bed but anywhere else they managed to find themselves, too. He was a skilled hunter, and they would wander in the Bois together for hours, making a game out of stalking prostitutes before killing them savagely. She studied his protruding jaw, heavy-lidded dark eyes, and dirty blond hair. His face appeared softer than usual, an indication that he had good news.

He touched her cold face and ran his hand over her high cheekbones as she smiled coyly up at him.

“We take him tonight, just before dawn.” His deep voice filled the bedroom and Solange began to tremble with excitement.

“Are you sure Gabrielle has no idea about this, Augustin?” She brushed his hair away from his face.

They had been preparing for weeks now, waiting for the right moment to attack the illustrious vampires. Solange was not sure of the exact moment she had realized that Gaétan might never return to her. Augustin had tried to convince her that he was either dead or had fallen for the young mortal and chosen to remain in New York. At first Solange dismissed his accusations, calling him jealous and petty but lately she had begun to accept it. She and Augustin had an understanding; he would never replace Gaétan. When the older vampire returned, Augustin would leave her bed willingly; but they were spending every night together now, and she began to see herself as his only lover.

Their plan was two-fold, and they rehashed it constantly after being sated with blood and love-making; kill both Gabrielle and Étienne, and with the older ones dead they could rule Paris together. At first Solange had not thought it possible, but her spies had recently informed her that the two ancient lovers had parted. Gabrielle had retained her apartment, while Étienne had returned to the catacombs. All Augustin needed was the right opportunity to strike, and the rest would be easy.

“It is as I told you, Solange,” he whispered. “They are no longer together. The stupid mortals I hired will drag him away just as he falls asleep and chain him in the Bois. When the sun rises, he will die a slow death in the winter sun.”

Solange giggled and sat up, naked. “What about that bitch?”

“Have no fear. She will be taken as well, just as the sun rises. She won’t know what hit her until it is too late. They can watch each other die.”

Solange jumped up out of bed. “If this works, there is nothing stopping us.”

She kissed his chest slowly. “I need food, Augustin.”

“I have a surprise for you.”

Solange waited alone in the dark and then the smell hit her. A mortal was in the house. As the scent grew stronger, Augustin came closer with a tiny woman pressed up against him. Solange knew by her eyes that Augustin had hypnotized her, rendering her weak and disoriented. She was dressed entirely in leather; her dark eye makeup ran down her cheeks from her tears.

“Isn’t she just lovely, Augustin? Come sit by me my pretty one,”

Solange purred, patting the spot on the bed beside her. She could barely contain herself with the mortal’s heartbeat pounding in her head.

Augustin pushed the whimpering mortal down on the bed as Solange got up on her knees. The woman began to cry harder as Solange pulled her close. Her pulse quickened under her lips as Solange kissed and licked her neck. The woman screamed as Solange latched on to her, sucking hard and fast as the women tried to fight. Augustin grabbed her arms and bit into the other side of her neck. The prostitute ceased struggling, her pulse weakening under their strong grasp. Sated and on fire, Solange and Augustin drank until he tossed the dead woman off the bed and climbed on top of his vampire lover.

Christian picked up Ross’s scent just outside the precinct. He followed it around the west side of the reservoir, then north over the Great Hill to Block House No. 1, where it ended. Christian sniffed the air and leaped up onto the top of the structure. The smell of blood assailed his senses and he knew in his heart, even before he touched the sticky, wet snow on top of the dilapidated structure that it was Ross’s blood.

He sniffed the air again and wondered where his body was hidden. The powerful vampire jumped off the roof and kicked in the rotten padlocked door that led to a small room underneath. The room was empty. He checked his watch. It was almost nine. As he headed back toward the museum, skirting the reservoir, he smelled something. He left the trees for the running track and noticed something on the ground up ahead—a wallet. He picked it up, and Ross’s scent hit him again. Christian opened the wallet and counted one hundred dollars in loose bills. This had not been a robbery. Christian imagined Gaétan hoisting the detective’s body over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. The wallet must have fallen out of his pocket as he was carried away. But where had Gaétan disposed of him?

He smelled Amanda’s scent before he rounded the corner; he was glad she was waiting for him. He wondered if she had any regrets about sleeping with him. The loss of his mortal friend seemed too much to bear at the moment and the vampire shoved his grief aside as he came around the museum toward Fifth Avenue. He prayed that Ross had not suffered for Christian’s arrogance and stupidity.

How could I have expected him to face Gaétan alone? Am I losing my mind?

Chapter Twenty-Five

A
MANDA CHECKED HER
watch. It was just after nine o’clock. A warm front had brought an unusual amount of joggers and walkers to the park, more the usual for a Friday night this time of year. She had forsaken her hat and gloves and was enjoying the warm weather, although she knew it would be short lived; after all, it was only early February. She climbed the steps to the main doors of the museum to get a better view of Fifth Avenue. She was eager to see Christian, but also nervous. She wondered about the terra cotta statue and made a mental note to ask him about it.

She knew now that Christian’s presence in her life was more than coincidence. It was kismet, just as she had told Michel. As she reached into her purse for her cell phone, she noticed him at the bottom of the steps with his hands in his coat pockets. How long had he been standing there? She smiled, taking her time to walk back down the steps.

“Hello,” he said with a smile, his voice making her knees shake. You came … I wasn’t sure …”

Amanda felt herself blush as she remembered the previous night. “Did you get my note?”

He nodded and she instinctively placed her hand through his arm as they walked toward the park. They had not gone very far when she brought up the news story about the missing detective. His dark eyes caught hers assuring her that Ross had nothing to do with the crime. Just when she felt ready to ask him about the statue in his library, he changed direction.

“Where are you taking me?” She asked, stopping in her tracks.

“It’s one of my favorite places in the world.” He smiled, cupped her face in his hands and kissed her. She kissed him back more passionately.

“Will you come home with me again tonight?” He whispered, taking her hand again.

She smiled up at him. “It was never a question.”

They approached Bethesda Terrace in silence, stopping at the stone railing that overlooked the fountain. Christian held her in his arms in front of him.

He tried to block from his mind the fact that Gaétan was her special friend Thomas. The man on the phone; the same man who had thanked her for their night spent together. Amanda had been seduced by him, and the last thing Christian wanted was for her to confront the ancient vampire. He knew she would, and it would only get her killed, or much worse. It was time to tell her the truth. He began talking into her hair; it smelled of his own shampoo.

“Your brother was executed because he possessed something very threatening to the vampires that attacked you both in the park. Actually, they came here to kill you both that night, but fortunately I was able to stop them.”

He felt her tense up at the memory of it.

“What is it they want from me?”

Christian thought it best to just say it without beating around the bush. “You and Ryan are the descendants of a mortal woman and a vampire. They want your blood, Amanda. It is very powerful.”

She turned to face him. “Holy shit, you’re telling me I am the descendant of a vampire?”

Christian ran his hand through his hair. “The blood you possess gives us the power to walk in the daylight.”

She began to back away. He knew it was too much to comprehend, and he worried that he would lose her.

He approached her slowly. “Amanda, listen to me. For some of us this would be considered a great gift, to walk freely in the daylight.”

“But these vampires don’t believe that, do they? That’s why they killed Ryan.”

“To them you are a threat to the natural order of things; an abomination that must be destroyed. I have watched over all of you mortals and after I discovered your unique gifts, I have been trying to protect you without involving you. After you saw me in the park, I figured I could erase your mind and you would have no memory of any of it. Unfortunately, it was more difficult that I had originally anticipated. I could not erase your thoughts.”

“Do you see me that way, as an abomination, a freak?”

“I can’t believe you have to ask me that, Amanda. Of course not, but they are afraid that I will take your blood for myself which would make me strong enough to return to Paris and overthrow them. They don’t understand that I don’t want that kind of power.”

As he explained their thinking to her, he felt like a hypocrite, and he hated hypocrisy more than almost anything else. Perhaps she had no idea what he had done to her in the heat of passion.

“What was it like, tasting my blood? Am I really different?”

“Amanda, I …” He ran a hand through his hair, at a loss for words. “I—”

“Maybe it was for the best that it happened last night. Maybe you won’t ever be tempted again, but it was the most erotic experience I have ever had.”

He pulled her closer. “I promise you it will never happen again.”

“How did they find out about us?”

“Ryan was donating his blood for money, and though I tried to prevent it, rumors quickly spread about the mortal with the unusual blood. Vampires are notorious gossips. Solange sent Lucien here to kill him, and he found out about you as well. He escaped me that night, but not before taking a supply of your brother’s blood with him back to Paris.”

“Who is Solange?”

Christian pulled back, taking her hand again. They walked in silence up the ornately carved stone steps of the terrace and headed south down Poets Walk. The snow-covered trees formed a white canopy over them. He had to tell her the truth.

“Solange is the child I had with Josette,” he explained, unable to meet her stare.

“The union between a vampire and a mortal. Up until a few days ago, I believed she was my daughter. I whisked her to safety when she was a little girl, and sent her to be raised by a French family leaving Paris for London. Although I always kept my distance, I still watched over her as she grew up. Then she married and had a child of her own.”

Christian was unsure of how much to tell her. He listened to her footsteps as they walked; they created a somber rhythm in the snow.

“Then in 1814, Yellow Fever raged through London. I heard a rumor that Solange was very sick. I refused to see her or do anything to save her life. Later..…she was turned and—”

“You left her to die?”

Christian stopped and met her gaze.

“Remember what I told you the other night, that you can have anything from me but immortality? You don’t want this,” he stammered as he fought to keep control of his emotions. “I would never give this to anyone, despite my love for them.”

Amanda heard the sorrow in his voice. She reached up and touched his cold cheek. “Forgive me. I wasn’t judging you. It would be an impossible decision for any parent.”

He stared down at her in silence fighting his urge to cry for so many things, the most recent being Ross’s death. He looked past her, ashamed of his actions; he needed her, yet feared his own longings.

“I thought I was doing the right thing, but I abandoned her and she hates me. I can never change that.”

“Well now that you know the truth perhaps you can tell her yourself and mend things between you both.”

He ran his hands through his hair. “It’s not that simple, Amanda. A vampire named Gaétan turned her to spite me. They returned to Paris as lovers, where they ruled until he came here last fall to finish what Antoine could not. He fueled her hatred of me and hate is a great motivator.”

“So is love, Christian. Perhaps it’s not too late for you both, despite this Gaétan fellow.”

“That fellow is here to slaughter you, Amanda.”

“He’s here now?” She glanced around her in the darkness. “He’s here to kill me?”

Christian tried to comfort her, but it was no use. She began shivering in fear. He led her back up East Park Drive toward his home.

“So why did he want to spite you?”

“I stole Josette, the woman in the painting, away from him. They had been lovers when I was the lover of one of the most powerful vampires in Paris—Gabrielle. She sired me and Michel, and she became very jealous of Josette. Gaétan was already angry with me for stealing Josette, and in their bitterness and anger they formed an alliance against us.”

He stopped again; Amanda’s mouth was hanging open. “It’s history, but unfortunately, it isn’t ancient, my love.” He gently closed her mouth, wishing he felt as cavalier as he tried to come across to her.

“So who fathered Solange if you didn’t?” Amanda finally asked as Christian hit the security keypad and opened his front door.

A cold energy brushed up against them, like opening the freezer door on a hot summer day. Michel came out of the library and shut the door behind him.

“We have to talk, mon ami.” Michel stood outside the library doors.

Christian ran his hand through his thick hair. “What is it, Michel?”

“You are not going to believe who’s here.”

Christian realized he had no idea what Michel meant by it.

“Is Solange in New York? Have you seen her?” He rushed to the window just as Michel uttered her name.

“Gabrielle is here.”

Christian stopped as if he had hit a brick wall, not sure whether he had heard his best friend correctly.

“Gabrielle?”

“She’s here, Christian. She’s in the library and she’s scared to death.”