Tears of Blood (The Blood Chronicles) (20 page)

Declan felt unsettled, the sensation one he’d forgotten long ago. Consciously, he smoothed his appearance, not wanting the man to know he’d struck any semblance of dread in his accursed soul.

“I’m your curse, Declan Balthazar.” The individual expressed beneath his breath.

“You believe you’re my curse?” The vampire laughed lightly, the sound strained. “I exist on a curse. I feed on the blood of innocents, if you were not aware of the fact. Do you believe I fear you?”

“You should, vampire.” Sebastien stated huskily.

“Why don’t you run?” Declan asked suspiciously. “Why don’t you fear what I am? Seriously, do you think you can fight me and win?”

Sebastien’s grin broadened and he leaned in close. “Do you dare think I would lose?”

“I know what you are, despite the casual enchantments you cast over those mortals around you.” Declan murmured. “I know you’ve your own demon lurking inside, and you’re as cursed as me.”

Sebastien straightened and his sinister smile disappeared.

“Dare me, demon? Do you dare me, before all, to rip your body limb from limb?” He growled the threat, each word precisely pronounced and volatile. “Do you dare me to absorb your corrupted essence?”

Declan threw his head back, and an unreserved laugh escaped him.

“You don’t have it in you to do such a thing, especially not before these disgusting bits of flesh.”

“Provoke me as much as you wish, demon.” Sebastien stated through tightly clenched teeth. “I thrive on a dare, as those of your kind know.”

“You find these mortals…entertaining. You’ll do all within your power to protect them. I, on the other hand, look at them as nothing more than a new meal.”

“A soul isn’t an item to be mocked, Balthazar.”

There wasn’t condemnation in the announcement. Instead, there was a wealth of compassion, not lost on the vampire. The pity irked him, and he felt himself bristle with irritation.

“Why hang onto a useless soul when one lurks in the shadows of the world of immortals?” He mocked with ironic ease. “I savor what I am. I’ve embraced my condemnation with the ease of a child. Look at all that’s been provided for me.”

His arms spread wide, deliberately encompassing the crowd.

“Tonight, this gathering provides me with nothing more than a smörgåsbord of delight. I wonder….should I have Chinese, Mexican, or even sample a bit of Indian fare?”

“Our meeting was merely a matter of time.” Sebastien retorted firmly. “You realized one of my brethren would seek you, eventually.”

“I’ve always known your breed would come, in search of my tortured soul somewhere in the night.” Declan shrugged indifferently. “Then again, tell me, is capturing my evil something you truly wish to do?”

“I’ve walked in the darkness of the nights for countless seasons, vampire.” Sebastien responded in an ominous tone. “I’ve eliminated your kind before they can do much more damage than they have already done to the innocent.”

“No.” He sneered. “I’ll torment you as you torment me. We both walk a forbidden road, my powerful mage, but it's not a route I intend to share. Just as the darkness overtakes me, just as the hunger gnaws at my gut, I’ll taunt you as easily.”

Declan didn’t imagine the threat was meaningless. He was aware of the tales of the wizards hunting their kind and of the spells woven to obliterate their damned souls. All it would take was a simple touch of Sebastien DeClerq’s hand and a single phrase to send his accursed soul to Hell. Still, he wouldn’t allow the enigmatic mage to control him, or the satisfaction of knowing his presence alarmed him.

“If not your precious Chesca,” He mocked aloud with deliberate vileness. “Perhaps that frail flower my disciple is falling so disgustingly for should be my latest pawn. The sightless can be such a challenge…so full of trust and innocence. Imagine, the purity of that being craving the blood of another…?”

Sebastien’s hand shot out. A low growl emitted from his throat as he stilled the urge to clutch at the vampire’s neck, knowing the contact would disrupt the festivities.

“I don’t have to be at hand, wizard, to offer her damnation.” He flouted maliciously. “Do you believe my pupil is incapable of changing her, if the moment arises?”

“He doesn’t have your corruptness.” The mage stated with more assurance than he felt.

“He was a disappointment.” Declan revealed with a scowl and a slight shake of his head. “I had such high hopes for him, but he’s failed me time and time again. Instead of robbing the innocent of their blood, he’d rather teach bumbling English lords how to waltz! Nonetheless, though, his true colors may eventually emerge.”

“You’re a bigger fool than I imagined!” Declan hissed angrily, his composure disappearing and the true ugliness beneath the suave exterior revealing itself in the dim shadows.

“Amado Gianni is a vampire
I
created!” Declan nearly shouted, the sharp canines of his teeth gnashing with the avowal. “There isn’t anything significant distinguishing one from the other!”

“I beg to differ.” Sebastien countered smoothly.

“I’m the one that taught him of the hunger, of the need for blood, and the benefits of immortality!”

“You taught him nothing.” Sebastien countered with smug ease. “You made him one of your orphans; untutored, untrained, and left to subsist in a world he didn’t understand.”

The wizard’s calmness fueled Declan’s irritation and he rose to his full height, his dark eyes flashing the promise of retaliation.

“He’s what I made him, a beast of the night.” Declan contested. “He may insist on supping on that excuse of a libation from the local coroner but, inside, he craves fresh blood. He can’t hide from what he is, any more than I can depart The Sanctum.”

Sebastien turned, hearing the delicate sound of Chesca’s infectious laughter as she looked at the latest customer demanding his fortune. The woman glowed tonight, he thought absently. Filled with distinct animation, her kohl-rimmed eyes resembled sparkling emeralds in the soft glow of the hotel scones.

His thoughts hardened as he turned toward the other, the vampire continuing to smirk maliciously, evil filling his dark vision. Sebastien straightened his back and shoulders beneath the cut of his tuxedo, his expression hardening as his eyes narrowed.

He muttered beneath his breath.

The words were old, laced with a chant like pattern that instantly made Declan straighten, minute traces of fear filling his hardened gaze. Each syllable falling from the wizard’s mouth was uttered in an ancient language he hadn’t spoken since his youth.

Bitterness welled up inside him, followed by outrage.

The man before him, beloved among the population of Bentham, was whispering a curse. The words, melodic and enigmatic, delved into the recesses of Declan’s mind. He felt tormented, his chilled body suddenly burning, his eyes blazing with each passing second. Frozen in place, he was forced to listen to the entirety of the curse.

“You’ve forgotten the remnants of your human soul, Declan Balthazar.” Sebastien murmured when he was finished. “You’ve forgotten how your heart sang in your youth, and how love could change how you looked at the world.”

“You…”

“I’m not the one that will destroy you. I’ll not be the one to condemn you to a fiery hell.” Sebastien interrupted smoothly, a sly quirk of his lips accentuating his words. “I curse what’s left of your mortal being beneath the corrupt exterior you present to the living, Balthazar.”

“What do you intend to do with me?” Declan hissed.

“I place upon you memories of what you’ve pushed aside with your bloodlust. You’ll hunger, but for emotions that don’t contain blood or anger.”

“Emotions are nothing in my world!” The vampire protested defiantly.

Sebastien’s smirk broadened. “Believe that as you wish, demon. I know better, for I’ve seen into your tarnished being and know what you crave the most.”

“Damn you, wizard!”

“I was cursed long before you.” Sebastien soothed. “For my curiosity, I was destined to hunt your breed for all eternity. I, though, shall grant you a peace from my power…”

“What peace could I ever find?” Declan roared.

A slow smirk twisted Sebastien’s lips as he stared into the vampire’s eyes.

“I’ll only curse you.” His breath was warm as he leaned close, his words cryptic. “I curse you to know what you’ve lost. I curse you to feel a pain as you’ve never felt before. I curse you to weep tears of blood for what you cannot have.”

Chapter
Fourteen

The cab driver left her at the curb, and watched her mount the steps to the house. He shook his head, a low sound of appraisal leaving him as her golden dress glowed in the rising sunlight, the material shimmering with every step. He waited, keeping an eye on her, as she placed the stark whiteness of her cane against the iron balustrade. He knew he didn’t have to hang around, that he should be out looking for an added fare, but his heart softened when he had picked her up outside the dance studio.

She was too beautiful to be alone, especially dressed as she was, he thought. There would be some moron out there wanting to hurt a woman as pretty as her, and it wouldn’t harm him to do his one good deed of the day.

What’s more, everyone with a brain believed Bentham had become a little strange over the last decade.

He waited for her to reach for her keys. As she pulled them from her clutch, he grunted, pleased. He shouted an enthusiastic
‘take it easy, ma’am’
from his open window before merging to the street, a smile curving his rounded cheeks.

He never saw the vagrant sitting under the tree, just on the inner confines of the park, a blanket drawn to his chin.

***

“Meghan!”

She started, surprised by the familiar voice, her small assortment of keys clattering to the ground. Muttering, she crouched, intently brushing the worn stone in search of the cold metal.

Meghan frowned as her fingertips passed over a strange dampness staining the stoop and she jerked her hand back. Cursing under her breath at the urgent repetition of her name, she rose and turned slightly, her fingers pressed to her side.

“Look what you made me do!” She accused hotly, feeling uneasy, embarrassed, and more than a little confused.

“Meghan,” Amado’s tone was exasperated. “You can’t vanish like that.”

“Just because we slept together, don’t get it in your head you can tell me what I can and can’t do.” She stated firmly, scowling in his direction.

“That’s not what I meant.” He was immediately contrite and she sensed an underlying edge in his retort. She listened to him inhale as he tried to gather his thoughts before speaking again. “We did more than
sleep
together, and you owe me an explanation for disappearing without saying good-bye.”

Meghan bristled and ground her teeth as she scowled. She hated having the obvious pointed out to her, which made her more furious---not at him, but herself. They had done more than simply sleep together, sharing a night of unrivaled passion. Still, there were little glitches, moments that gave her pause. There were emotions, sensations, fractured seconds that teased the back of her mind….