Kiss of Temptation: The Kavanaugh Foundation, Book 3 (13 page)

“Then you are a bigger idiot than I thought.” The lord grabbed him by his shirt and hurled him across the courtyard into the wall of the church. The building shook from the impact, and when the servant fell to the ground, part of the stones crumbled away, leaving a man-sized dent in the masonry. And yet, the servant shook his head and crawled to his feet as if he’d only tripped over a tree root.

Luc backed away from the door in fear. Something was wrong about this. First a witch who could revive rosebushes, and then a man walking away from an injury that would have killed most people. And if the lord could toss a grown man around like a bale of hay, what else was he capable of doing?

“My lord, the priest is near,” the uninjured servant said. “I smell him.”

The lord spun around and stared right where Luc stood. His amber eyes glowed with sinister intent in the darkness, and fear edged into Luc’s soul. He was looking into the face of death.

He tried to run, but something grabbed his robes and flung him into the courtyard. Pain exploded through his chest when he collided with the stone cross, breaking it in half. Ashes choked his lungs, and his stomach churned from the blood that filled his mouth.

The lord pulled him from the ground and gave him a cold grin. A pair of fangs pressed into the lord’s lips. “So you’re the meddlesome priest who’s been telling my wife to look for hope.”

Luc made a sign of the cross, thinking it would offer him some protection from the demon before him.

But the lord only laughed. “Your pitiful rituals mean nothing to me.” He pointed to the ashes. “Where is she?”

His mind raced to remember what she’d told him to say. “She went into the sun.”

“You lie.”

In the brief moment that passed, Luc weighed telling the truth against continuing her deception. Either way, he knew he would die. But there was one way to ensure her safety. “She did. I watched her burn into ashes.”

The roar that came from the lord’s chest quickly doused any courage Luc may have gathered. It was completely inhuman. And once again, he found himself flying through the air. The unmistakable crunch of bone filled his ears on impact. From his waist up, daggers of pain tore at his flesh, but his misshapen legs lacked any feeling at all.

The lord yanked him off the ground. “You shouldn’t have delved into things beyond your understanding, priest.”

Every breath Luc drew made his chest rattle. Death was so close, he could almost feel its dark embrace wrapping around him. “I know my soul will find peace in heaven.”

The lord’s eyes widened, and his lips curled up into a malicious grin. “No, you will be trapped in hell. I’ll see to it personally.”

The initial pain of the bite seem mild compared to the damage Luc’s body had already suffered. A sharp sting and nothing more. But as the lord began to drink, shadowy images flooded his mind. Images of blood, of bodies scattering fields and filling streets. They tore at his soul like a clawed beast, determined to rip it to shreds. And in those agonizing moments, he knew his tormenter’s name. Marcellus.

The darkness faded and Marcellus’s face hovered above his. “Yes, Père Luc. Now you know what I am and what you will become.”

The face disappeared, and a bitter liquid filled his throat. He choked on it at first, but when he swallowed, the pain receded from his consciousness. A new sensation burned through his limbs, one of power, of invincibility. His broken bones began knitting back together. His mind screamed for him to stop, but with each gulp, the feeling grew stronger. He no longer knew suffering. Just a thirst that could never be quenched.

Marcellus’s laughter mocked him. “Greed does not become you, Père Luc.”

The stream of liquid abruptly stopped, and Luc found himself staring at the stone tiles of the courtyard. Spasms racked his body. His pulse pounded in his ears at a frantic pace. The world began swirling, changing. The scent of the roses grew so strong, it sickened him. He gagged and tried to purge himself of the poison he’d been given, but his stomach refused to cooperate. Tears prickled his eyes as he curled into a ball. There was nothing comforting about this route to death.

And then it all stopped. His heart stilled and his vision cleared. He waited for the bright light, for the sensation of his soul floating up into Heaven, but it never came. Instead, his tormenter towered over him.

“Who’s the demon now?” he asked and lowered his lips to Luc’s ear. “From now on, you will fear the sun and crave only blood. You are now one of the monsters who plague this land, and you will have to choose to live this way or suffer the same fate as Morwen.”

“You’re wrong.” He managed to get to his hands and knees, wondering why he still moved when his heart no longer beat. “I will never be like you.”

“But you already are.” He turned to leave with his two servants trailing behind him. “When you accept what you’ve become, you can join my army.”

The words echoed in Luc’s mind as he sat there alone in the night. He pressed his hand against his chest, searching for the familiar thump, but felt nothing. Panic choked his throat. If he was dead, why was he still here? For what seemed like hours, he pondered this question, refusing to believe he’d been changed into one of them.

“Père Luc,” a child’s voice shouted from the other side of the church’s walls. “Come quick. My papa is ill.”

Luc ran through the church and opened the door to find Simon, one the village children, standing there. His mouth started to water as he stared down at him, and a dull ache filled his teeth.

Simon backed away. “Père Luc, what’s wrong with you?”

Luc stared at the boy’s neck. The increasing flutter of Simon’s heart filled his ears, and the earthy smell of fear tickled his nostrils. He took a step toward the boy and Simon screamed.

“Père Luc, don’t!”

But the thirst became uncontrollable. He snatched the boy into his arms and sank his new fangs into the soft flesh of his neck. Sweet blood flowed into his mouth while Simon’s cries grew louder. The burning in the back of his throat eased with each sip.

Simon tugged on the cross around Luc’s neck, breaking his bite. “No, please don’t,” he whispered.

Luc stared in horror at the blood that stained the boy’s neck. “
Mon Dieu
, what have I done?”

He pressed his fingers against the small wounds to staunch the flow of blood. Simon started up at him with heavy eyes, but said nothing.

“Please forgive me,” Luc begged. He wished that the boy would fall asleep and awake later, thinking this was all a bad dream.

“Take me home, Père Luc.” Simon closed his eyes and went limp in his arms.

For several minutes, Luc listened to the boy’s breath and the rapid flutter of his heart. Once he reassured himself Simon would live, he cleaned the blood from the boy’s skin and carried him back to his house. The distance seemed to vanish as he practically flew through the deserted streets.

When he reached the house, the smell of the others hit him, and the thirst returned with a vengeance. He dug his fingers into his palms, refusing to harm another person. He laid Simon on the ground in front of the door and rushed back to the church. The sound of Marcellus’s laughter tormented him as he locked every door, every window. He crawled into a little ball in the center of the church and covered his head. He refused to give in to temptation. He would not become a monster like that demon, even if it meant shutting himself off from the rest of the world until he died of thirst.

Now, over six hundred years later, the memories of that night still shamed him, but Luc found what he was searching for. Vampiric blood had healing properties, and it would hopefully be enough to keep Daniela alive until she got a transfusion.

He bit his finger and smeared the blood across her lips. Her tongue flicked out and cleaned it away. A soft moan rose from her throat, the first sign of life he’d seen from her since last night. He pressed his finger against her mouth again. She drew him in, gently sucking on his finger in a way that made his cock stiffen.

He gritted his teeth. It would be so easy to let her continue to drink until he turned her. Then he wouldn’t have to worry about Colette’s threats or finding a way for Daniela to escape. She’s be safe, healed. His.

He yanked his finger from her mouth. No, he wouldn’t force her to change. He wouldn’t become like Marcellus, no matter how much he wanted her. As long as her heart still beat, he’d let her choose what fate she wanted.

Luc pulled her closer to him, ignoring the sting the movement produced in his charred back. The gentle, warm rush of her breath eased both his pain and his conscience. She would wake soon, and he’d find a way to get her off this train.

Chapter Nine

The earth rumbled under Daniela’s feet and a dark pillar of smoke erupted from the mountain. Her pulse quickened, impeding her ability to draw in air.

Luc grabbed her hand. “Run to the water.”

She looked at him in confusion. Yes, the man in front of her resembled Luc, but why was he wearing an outfit that belonged in Ancient Rome?

“Move,” he barked, dragging her along with him.

The smell of smoke singed her nostrils. When she looked behind her, she saw a wall of gray ash tumbling down the mountainside toward them.

She stumbled over a rock and collided with Luc. He caught her and tossed her over his shoulder, continuing to race down the hill. The rest of the town clogged the narrow road, slowing their progress.

At last they made it to the boat houses that lined the shore. The screams of those behind them echoed in her ears and chilled her heart. Screams of pain, of torment, of death. Rocks rattled on the roof, punching holes through it and bruising her skin. The world was ending, and she was witnessing the full extent of the gods’ wrath. They were going to die.

She started crying. She’d fought so hard, had been so brave for so long. She wasn’t ready to meet her end.

“Shh, my love.” Luc pulled her into his arms and rocked her. “I’m so sorry. I never meant for you to get hurt.”

His arms tightened around her as her skin burned from the blast of heat that engulfed them. The hot ash choked her throat, smothering her cries. Blackness descended around her, and the last thing she remembered was the dying beat of his heart.

The smell of burnt flesh still lingered in her nose when Daniela opened her eyes, and she flung her arms in alarm.

A groan stilled her. “It’s okay, Daniela. You’re safe.”

Luc. Relief washed over her and she wrapped her arms around his neck to hug him. Instead of returning her affection, he stiffened under her and drew in a hiss.

“What’s wrong, Luc?”

“Nothing that won’t heal on its own.” He pulled her arms away, and she noticed the soot covering them.

“You’re hurt.”

“Sunlight will do that to someone like me,” he said with a lopsided grin. “But I had to hold you, to make sure you were safe.”

The images of her dream flashed before her. He’d willingly suffered to protect her, and something in her heart softened. “I’m glad you’re here with me.”

“Me too.” He brushed her hair out of her face, and the corners of his mouth tilted down. “Although I wish we weren’t in this predicament at all. You’ve lost too much blood.”

The initial adrenaline rush from her dream fled, leaving her limbs slow and heavy. How much had she lost between Luc and Colette? “Just don’t take any more,” she teased.

He winced, and she instantly regretted her halfhearted joke. “As long as I live, I will try my hardest to not drink from you again, Daniela. The consequences would be…” His voice trailed off, and neither one of them dared to mention what the consequences would be.

“Where are we?” she asked, hoping to turn the conversation away from her blood.

“Somewhere in Germany, I believe.” He looked down at her. “I’ve noticed the train slows down when we pass through towns. The next one we come to, I want you to get off.”

“No.” Daniela dug her fingers into his shirt, clinging to him as if her life depended on it. “We need to stay together.”

He pried her hands off of him and covered them with his own. “Wrong. You’re not thinking clearly.”

“Yes, I am. Don’t you see? Neither one of us can take on Colette on our own. But together—”

“As long as we’re together, she’ll use you to manipulate me.” He pressed his lips against her forehead. “Believe me when I say letting go of you will be the hardest thing I’ve ever done, but it’s the only way. Once you’re gone, she has nothing to threaten me with, no way to extract the location of the second piece of the staff.”

“Then she’ll kill you.”

He nodded, his expression solemn. “Perhaps, but that’s a risk I’m willing to take as long as you’re safe.”

Her mind seemed too fuzzy to make sense of all this, and fatigue was already threatening to claim her. She nestled closer to his chest. “Come with me.”

“I can’t go out into the sun.”

“Then let’s wait until night.”

“And have them chase us down like a group of hounds going after an injured pair of foxes?” He combed his fingers through her hair. “I’ve thought this through, and this is the best solution. You escape and get some medical attention. Once you’re well enough, find the second part of the staff before Colette. I’ll join you as soon as I can.”

As much as she hated to admit it, he made more sense than the stupid, childish voice in her head that demanded she stay with him. She lifted her face to him. “You promise?”

“With all my heart. I’m not letting you go that easily.”

“Good, because you owe me one hell of an explanation.” She tilted his face down until their lips met, and the rest of the world faded from her consciousness. All she knew was him—the intensity of his kiss, the scent of his skin, the taste of his tongue as it delved into her mouth. A moan rose from her throat and she tightened her hold on him. It was moments like this when she never wanted to let him go.

At last, he pulled away, leaving them both breathless. “You’re not making this any easier.”

“That’s the whole idea.” If she had to leave him, she wanted to make sure he didn’t forget about her when she was gone.