Cast in Blood (Morgan Blackstone Vampires Book 1) (8 page)

“Thank you, Christophe,” Morgan said. She closed her eyes, and let her mind drift, thinking of Nicholas. She smiled, as the thought of seeing him again filled her with a sense of comfort.
Once he gets here, we’ll figure things out, together.
 

Christophe stepped back out of the room, and closed the door before she took a deep breath. Clutching the edge of the bathtub, using the wall to steady herself, she stepped out. Mustering what energy she had, Morgan dried off and wrapped a towel around her hair like a turban. She avoided looking in the mirror, while scanning the room for something to wear.
Christophe
, she thought, as her eyes fell on a pile of her clothes sitting on top of the laundry hamper.
It must be all those human girlfriends. The rest of us have a tendency to forget little things like that.
She picked up the baggy sweater and slipped it over her head. It had started out as one of Nicholas’s but she’d stolen it from his closet and had never given it back. Her limbs trembled as she rode out another wave of nausea. Morgan finished dressing, freed her hair from the turban and began brushing it.
 

When the cramping began in her stomach, she took deep breaths.
Maybe I can just ride this out like I did the others.
Morgan closed her eyes, and wrapped her arms around herself as if it would make the pain ripping through her manageable.
Wrong on that one
, she thought, stumbling toward the tub. She cried out, more from surprise than pain, when her shin met marble.
 

She dropped to her knees and clung to the edge. Feeling as though she had stepped outside her body, she heard a voice far off and unintelligible, and someone pulled her hair behind her shoulders. Her throat seized, abdomen clenched and forced what felt like liquid fire up her gullet. Morgan doubled over, wanting to scream, but her throat slammed shut. As the bile ripped through her esophagus, Christophe clutched her hand, and she clung to him, helping to steady her through the convulsions. After a few moments Morgan’s body rejected the last of the blood she’d drunk a little over two hours before. Spent, she sat back, leaning against Christophe’s legs for support.
 

“What’s wrong
cherie
? I have never seen something like that before,” he asked, watching a swirling mix of blood and black bile flow down the drain.

“I don’t know,” Morgan said, as she closed her eyes.
I hate lying to you
mon ami,
but I can’t help it. I have to get out of here. If I don’t, you’re all in danger and I can’t have that on my conscience.

 
“Nicholas should be here soon.” His voice was unsteady, spooked. Christophe shook his head and offered her a hand up. “Maybe he’ll have some idea as to what’s going on.”

“Maybe.” Morgan leaned against the vanity for support.
Not likely though. I would have heard about it if my husband had ever encountered something like this,
she thought, while filling a glass with water
. No, we’re in uncharted territory here and the sooner I get away from here the better.
She swished the water around in her mouth and spat it into the sink.
 

“Morgan?” Nicholas called from the hallway outside their bedroom.
 

Damn it. Trying to leave just got more difficult.
Morgan filled her mouth with water again. For the first time in their long marriage she wished that her husband wasn’t about to walk into a room.

“We’re in here,” Christophe called out.

Morgan leaned over the sink and spat out the second mouthful of water. When she looked up, her eyes met Nicholas’s in the mirror. He closed the space between them in two long strides and pulled her into his arms. “Don’t ever do that again,” he whispered.

“Not planning to.” She closed her eyes and let her cares slip away, enjoying the moment.
 

It’s just a moment. You know it can’t last. You know that you can’t survive without whatever that so–called doctor was injecting. You know you’re trapped. You know if you stay, you’re going to drag everyone you care about down with you. You know that it’s foolish to fight.
The ghost of Alexander’s voice floated through her mind.
 

“What’s wrong?” Nicholas asked.
 

Morgan pulled away from and stepped past him, walking into the bedroom. She took a deep breath and shook her head before turning back to face him. “I can’t stay. I have to go. Alone.”
 

"What?" Nicholas frowned. He reached out to take her hand. Morgan stepped away and shook her head. "Morgan, please talk to me. We can figure this out."

"I can't." The words caught in her throat as it tightened. The world began swimming in and out of focus. "Please, Nicholas, this is something I have to do on my own." She glanced over to the door where Charles and Marcus hovered, and Christophe leaned against the wall near the bathroom.
He saw more than he let on.
He saw what was in the tub and is waiting to see if I come clean on my own
.
Little does he know what that means. That it sealed my fate, I’m bound to that bastard, doctor, as surely as if there was a chain linking me to him for eternity. I just need time to figure out how to leave without having any of them try to follow me. Goddess, they’re my family. How can I risk their lives? I can’t put them all in danger. No matter how much I want to play the damsel in distress, and let them take care of everything.
 

“At least explain what's going on. You can't just drop a bomb like that, and expect to saunter out of here like nothing's happened.” Nicholas moved between Morgan and the door. “I'm sorry, love, but there's no way you're getting out of here without explaining yourself, as for alone, not happening. You haven't even told us where you've been for the past eight weeks. For all we know you've been off having a lovely time.”

Morgan recoiled, head snapping back as if she'd been slapped, she stared at him for a moment. "It was anything but Nicholai!"

"How do I know that? You won't talk to me," he snapped. Swallowing hard, Nicholas pursed his lips and took a deep breath. "Look, it's obvious you're exhausted. You don't have to talk about it now.
 
I called Lucian, he’s on his way. All of this can wait until he gets here."

"Lucian?" Morgan felt a stabbing pain in her heart at the mention of her Grandsire's name. "You. Called. Lucian." The world tilted, spun, and her knees gave out.
 

Nicholas had caught her before she hit the floor. His breath hissed between his teeth, and a low growl slipped through. "You're burning up. If you were human, I'd say you have a fever."

"I have to get out of here, now." She pushed herself up, but her legs refused to support her weight.
 

"You can't even stand. You're going to bed," he insisted, lifting her.

"Can't," she whispered, trying to push out of his arms. Razors ripped through her veins, leaving trails of fire in their wake, eating through them. Morgan screamed, as the flames raced to every cell. She felt like she was standing outside herself, watching, as Nicholas laid her on the bed. He held his hands up in surrender, and backed away, eyes wide. Her muscles contracted, and she rolled onto her side as the pain continued to grow. A tiny part of her mind knew that her time was up, she had gone too long without the formula. This was going to kill her.
At least I got to see my family one last time,
she thought before darkness took the pain away.
 

The instant Morgan fell unconscious; Nicholas was back at her side. He touched her cheek before shifting her onto her back. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he took her too–warm hand in his. He closed his eyes, opening himself up to the abilities that every Lead Enforcer possessed. Nicholas sought the spark that every vampire carried within them until they were beyond healing. He heard three distinct masculine voices behind him, but they were distant, unimportant. A tiny, almost forgotten part of him prayed to the long abandoned Gods of his human life for mercy and another chance.
No. Not like this. Come on, where are you? You can't leave.
Thoughts flew through his mind. He redoubled his efforts, fighting to ignore the distractions until he found it, the spark that kept every vampire walking when they should have died centuries before.

"Assassin!" Marcus's voice was a sharp slap across the face.

"What?" Nicholas turned, feeling every muscle in his body tense, ready for a fight.

"Good fucking question!" Marcus fired back. "What the Hell is going on?"

"You tell me! Who did you give her?" Nicholas stood and crossed to Marcus.
 

"Like I got the guy’s name?" Marcus didn't back down; he stepped in close, so they were only a few inches apart. "The human's blood was fine, I checked. I don't know what's happening any more than you do," Marcus said, fighting to keep his tone neutral.
He’s on edge, who wouldn’t be? Now is not the time to be a smart ass.
 

"Damn it, where is Lucian?" Nicholas snarled, as he started pacing the room like a caged animal.

"I'll give him a call, see when he expects to arrive," Charles said, before he slipped out of the room.

"Christophe." Nicholas turned to face him. "How was Morgan when you brought her up here? Did anything happen?"

The younger vampire took a deep breath. Having Nicholas look at him like he was accused of breaking one or more of the Edicts was unsettling, to say the least. "She took a bath and… " Christophe paused, shaking his head. "She was weak, complaining of vertigo, and nausea. Just before you got here, she threw up."

"What?" Nicholas and Marcus asked at the same time.
 

Under the gaze of two elder vampires, Christophe had to fight against the urge to turn and run.
I need to stand my ground. If I don’t, they’re going to chase me and I will die.
“She threw up. Blood mixed with some sort of black stuff."

Nicholas frowned, shaking his head as he started pacing. "Why didn't you say something about this before?"
 

"Because I was waiting for Morgan to say something, it was her place, not mine." Christophe shrugged. "I did not expect this."

"I don't think any of us expected this." Nicholas sighed, running a hand through his hair.

"Do any of us have any fucking clue what's going on?" Marcus growled, not bothering to hide his agitation.
 

"No." Nicholas admitted; he looked at Morgan and his expression darkened.
 

"I just spoke with Lucian," Charles said, reappearing at the open door.
 

"What did you tell him?" Nicholas asked, through clenched teeth.
 

"Just that there's been a development that Morgan isn't doing well. He’s about ten minutes away."
 

"Good," Nicholas answered, and started pacing.
 

"Nicholas, you have to calm down. If Lucian sees you this agitated he's going to ask questions you won’t want to answer." Christophe interjected.
 

Nicholas stared at the younger vampire for a moment, as if he didn't understand what Christophe was saying.
Right, my brilliant idea to hide our marriage. For her safety. Fat lot of good that did. Maybe this wouldn't have happened if we'd been open about our relationship.
 

"Don't do that." Marcus's voice broke into his thoughts.

"What?"

"You're getting into your head." The Roman general's voice was soothing; he was trying to diffuse the situation, not make things worse. "The best thing you can do right now is try to relax. Having Lucian asking questions isn't going to help."

"You're right. Charles, will you please go wait for Lucian to arrive?"

"Not a problem." He left the room.

"Will you stay with Morgan until Lucian arrives?" Nicholas asked Christophe, though his voice was tight as if he were fighting an internal battle.
 

"Of course," Christophe replied, though he sounded uncertain.

"Marcus, you and I need to talk." As he turned to face his old friend, Marcus saw that something had changed. Nicholas was putting up his professional façade, hiding his emotions behind walls.
 

"What do you need boss?"

"I need you, Old Man." The Lead Enforcer’s voice was almost a whisper.
 

"Name it."

"Let's talk about it before you agree," Nicholas said, draping an arm around Marcus's shoulders and steering him out of the room.
 

Time seemed to creep by at a pace that made a snail seem downright fast. Charles paced between the sitting room and foyer, checking the clock more often than he should. The phone in his pocket vibrated, he pulled it out. It was a text from the manager at The Dracul that took no more than thirty seconds to answer. After what felt like an eternity, the low chimes of the doorbell rang through the house. Charles smoothed his jacket and took a deep breath. Above him, he heard footsteps as Nicholas and Marcus came out of the office. He pulled the door open and smiled, Lucian stood on the front step, his blue eyes scanning the front yard as though searching for something. It took a few moments before the elder vampire noticed Charles.

“
Monsieur
DeVaale is it not?” Lucian asked, his voice rich and cultured.