BloodWish Page 4

  ‘Aye,’ many in the crowd called.

  ‘Some thought him out of touch by outlawing white oak when the Rebels freely used it against us. Yet all Elders and prefects sitting here this night are immune to its deadly effects thanks to him.’

  Alec was the one responsible for those last two positive changes, yet here he was giving Luc the credit. Was it loyalty, or was Alec subtly cementing support for the Principate? If it was the latter, it worked. Many were nodding and murmuring, ‘True, true.’

  ‘He did all this ... to protect you.’ He held out the bust of Luc and I almost expected the wax to come to life and speak. ‘He was worthy of all honour.’

  ‘He was worthy of all honour.’ The solemn rumble of hundreds of voices swelled then dissipated into silence.

  I shivered.

  Alec remained standing as Marcus and the men sank to their knees. The gathering followed their lead, kneeling and bowing their heads. Only the lonely whistling of the wind in the topmost pine branches disturbed the silence.

  Marcus rose, and as the gathering followed, Alec placed Luc’s wax effigy within the niche. There was a click as he locked the glass panel in place.

  The sound reverberated through me like a death knell. It was as the sealing of a coffin. The last farewell. Grief coiled around my heart and squeezed until the pain was almost physical.

  Goodbye, Papa.

  In spite of the cold, sweat coated my gloved hands and trickled down the back of my neck. Numb, I now stepped up to the dais and turned to face everyone.

  I clutched Judy’s wax bust to my chest and through blurry vision, surveyed the sad gathering. I blinked and cleared my throat.

  ‘Here we gather to honour Judith Anne Dantonville. She was no warrior princess who fought with a sword or spear, but if the greatness of a person can be measured by their nobility of heart, by their kindness, compassion, loyalty, selflessness and courage, then she shone among the greatest. Of the line of Antonia, daughter of Marcus Antonius Pulcher, Ingenii, noble lady, wife, mother. Her gentle voice shall never again be heard—’ I swallowed hard, my voice almost breaking ‘—and our loss cannot be consoled.’

  In the crowd someone sobbed aloud. My heart lurched painfully. I swallowed and closed my eyes—had to get through this. Alec wrapped his arm around my shoulders, and it gave me strength.

  I took a deep breath and continued. ‘You all knew her ... her generosity of spirit, her gentleness. When Lord Luc made you quake, she calmed his storm.’ Moonlight glistened on the bloodied cheeks of the Brethren and the clear tracks flowing down the cheeks of the villagers. Many knew her calming effect on Luc. ‘And hidden from all were her own sorrows—that of a mother forced to hide her only child—me—in fear of her safety: my safety. Without her sacrifice I would not be standing among you here today.’ Again, a painful lump rose in my throat. I did my best to squeeze out the words between sobs, and with my heart swelling, I cried, ‘She was the best of woman and worthy of all honour.’

  As one voice, the crowd repeated my final words until the ground beneath us shook.

  My thoughts flew to my aunt Eilene and uncle John, the two beloved people who raised me, whom I had always believed to be my parents. They’d lost their own baby daughter to Sudden Infant Death Syndrome at three months of age, so Luc and Judy had entrusted me into their care—hiding me in plain sight for my safety.

  To me they would always be Mum and Dad.

  Dad’s heart condition precluded their attendance here today.

  I missed them.

  But now, it was time to place the wax bust into its final resting place. With a kiss on her brow, I tucked my mother’s effigy into the marble niche and clicked the panel closed.

  Goodbye ... mother.

  This was it. Judy was truly gone. My mind replayed every blessed memory I had of her, every moment from my earliest recollection of her, and I surrendered to the tears, letting them flow freely down my face, my shoulders heaving with the intensity of my grief.

  Alec’s arms encased me, his head resting on mine.

  Through my clouded vision, two lifeless images peered at me from behind their glass confinement. The finality of it hit me hard, like a physical punch to the ribs, and I almost doubled over. I wanted to scream; to rage against those who’d caused their deaths and condemn them to an eternity of torment.

  But none of that would bring them back.

  I sobbed into Alec’s shoulder until his voice whispered in my ear, ‘Laura darling, John and Eilene sent a wreath. Can you hold on a bit longer?’

  I gazed into his red rimmed eyes and nodded. His strength was my support.

  Madame Gilbert stepped out from the crowd and handed me two large wreaths threaded through with black ribbon—one had been sent from Mum and Dad. Together, Alec and I placed them at the base of the monument.

  The clear tones of a trumpet rang out. I held Alec’s hand, and we descended the platform and, following Marcus’s lead, marched three times around the monument in honour of the deceased.

  The chilling cold numbed my cheeks mirroring that which gripped my heart. By the time we finished the frosty air had crawled up the glass panels obscuring the wax effigies behind them.

  ‘Ninety days of mourning have begun,’ Marcus announced.

  Wails emanated from the crowd. Some beat their breasts; others even tore their hair. Another wave of grief crashed through me, and my breaths became shallow.

  I can’t sob again, I can’t! It’s tearing me apart.

  So many people loved and respected my father, but now, no matter how much we desperately wished otherwise, he was gone. Forever.

  Marcus’s voice rose amid the clamour. ‘There are to be no disputes among you for the courts of the prefects are closed. There are to be no festivities, nor feeding or sexual relations. Those in violation will be brought before me. I have spoken.’

  Through the haze of grief, his proclamation stunned me. Ninety days without feeding! Could the Brethren last that long? What about the juveniles who still struggled to control their thirst?

  Is that possible? I sent the thought to Alec.

  No problem for the older Brethren. More of a struggle for the younger ones. We can drink any other liquids but not blood. Noble blood has been extinguished, so as a sign of mourning, no blood is to be taken.

  I understood.

  Both humans and Brethren wound their way through the crowd to lay their own wreaths.

  Karl, the Prefect of Bohemia—and my friend—kissed my cheeks, after laying his wreath, and shook hands with Alec. ‘If you ever have need of me, I can be here in a flash.’

  ‘Thank you.’ I pressed his hand.

  He and Alec then moved some distance away to speak privately.

  My friendship with Karl had grown since our time in Prague, while I was under his protection. If not for Karl, Alec may not have survived the lamiae attack Count Timur had unleashed. We owed him, but he wouldn’t expect a return of that favour. As reward for his part in the downfall of the Rebel leader, the Principate had granted Karl all Count Timur’s property and lands. This acquisition made him one of the most powerful prefects in the Brethren hierarchy. He was fortunate that Alec—as head of the Principate—had taken responsibility for the rebel’s difficult juveniles. The Principate hadn’t yet decided what to do with all of them. From what I’d been told, it was standard practice to slaughter all a rebel’s juveniles to ensure no future problems—a measure introduced after the Second Great Rebellion. But Count Timur’s juveniles—mostly just kids—had not all been willing rebels. They had to obey their sire’s commands because of the blood bond. Alec had given them a choice to join the Principate and promised them new sires, masters who would treat them well until they came of age.

  Dominik was one of these juveniles. Only in his mid teens when Timur’s henchmen kidnapped him and forced him into blood slavery, he’d been the first to pledge his allegiance to Alec if he were to take him on as his juvenile. He hero-worshipped Alec, following him around
like a lost puppy. He stood in the front row next to Kari, wide-eyed, his gaze flicking between Alec, Marcus and the men.

  On seeing me, he gave a faint smile and raised his hand to wave. Kari slapped it down. ‘Inappropriate, kiddo!’ she whispered.

  The portly figure of a middle-aged man approached me. Next to him stood a tall blue-eyed man in the uniform of a French policeman. ‘Our deepest sympathy, Milady.’ Sad brown eyes regarded me through his spectacles.

  Alec rejoined me, a deep crease wrinkling his brow.

  What had Karl told him?

  ‘Laura, may I introduce Monsieur Gilles Bouchard, Mayor of D’Antonville; and our local gendarmerie, Monsieur L’Agent Yves Morrell.’ Alec shook hands with them.

  ‘Thank you for being here tonight. You must be freezing.’

  Bouchard shrugged. ‘For Lord Luc, I would have come even if a blizzard blew. He was good to us.’ He grasped both my hands and held them. ‘A great loss, a great loss indeed. You will not be leaving, will you? D’Antonville needs its lord and lady.’

  ‘I ... um...’ I was newly pregnant, but for my last trimester we’d have to leave for Scotland. The curse stipulated my baby be born at the site of Roman massacre. As yet, only our inner circle—plus Karl and O’Toole—knew I was expecting. Whether we’d return after that, I had no idea.

  ‘We’ll be here at least till the summer,’ Alec said.

  Bouchard released my hands and adjusted his bearskin hat. ‘C’est bien. That is good.’

  Morrel tucked his flat cap beneath his arm and raised my hand to his lips. ‘Condolences, milady. We share your sorrow at such a sad time. Your good lady mother was much loved, her many kindnesses will never be forgotten. I am at your service should you ever need it.’

  I fought back the tears. ‘Merci, monsieur.’

  He placed the cap back on his head and grasped Bouchard’s arm. ‘Come Gilles. Let’s toast our late lord and lady with your new bottle of Armagnac.’ They trudged down the steps and disappeared into the crowd.

  After the last wreath had been laid and condolences uttered, the crowd slowly dispersed. The temperature had fallen even further and the mist from my breath resembled tiny droplets of ice that drifted momentarily on the air before floating to the ground. I stamped my feet to keep the circulation going.

  Alec wrapped his arms around me, but in spite of his warmth, the cold bit deep. ‘My darling. You’re freezing.’

  With a long, last look at the monument, I turned away. Words floated around me, carried by the icy breeze. ‘Don’t mourn, ma petite. Live and be at peace, as I am.’

  Only Luc ever called me “ma petite.” Was it my imagination? Wishful thinking? Still, a weight lifted and an unworldly calmness settled over me. In the distance, the twinkling of the chateau’s lights beckoned me into its comforting warmth.

  I snuggled into Alec’s side as we strode back: wherever my parents were, they were together. They had supported and nurtured Alec and myself to this point. The rest was now up to us. I determined not to let them down.

  ‘I will, Papa,’ I whispered to the night.

  Chapter 6 – Not Done Yet

  MATT

  Laura’s portrait in the gallery haunted me. There, I’d said her name without my guts churning ... entirely. Fuck! Why couldn’t I get her out of my head? She dumped me for that bloodsucker, Munro, and that bastard had fucked with my mind.

  My jaw clenched painfully at the memory.

  Yeah, we’d broken up, but I wasn’t done with her yet. She was a thirst I couldn’t quench, a hunger I could never satisfy, a case that hadn’t been closed. It gnawed at me, slowly consuming me, piece by piece. Every waking hour brought some fresh memory. Her face haunted my dreams. She got so deep under my skin that she was almost a part of me. If that wasn’t bad enough, my work was suffering. Never had my private life interfered with my work before.

  I hated the pitiful expressions of my work colleagues—yeah, I saw them—when they thought I wasn’t looking. Or the whispered comments, or worse still, the derision of some who told me to “get over it.”

  I had enough.

  I needed Laura back in my life, and the only way to do that was to remove Munro. Yeah, so okay, he’d saved my life. Lebrettan would’ve killed me for sure. Did that mean I owed Munro? Hell no! The fact was, he still wasn’t human, and what’s to say, he too wouldn’t go rogue in the future? I wasn’t taking that chance. He was a potential threat. They all were. Humanity wasn’t safe with those creatures around.

  And it was my responsibility to set it right.

  I still had the newspaper with the missing persons notice I’d shown Laura. Yeah, I knew the truth, how that crazy, obsessed bloodsucker tried to rape and kill her because he couldn’t have her. She hadn’t lied about that. She couldn’t. She’d break out in hiccups. Hell, I almost smiled at the memory, and for one insane moment, I knew exactly how that dead bloodsucking bastard felt.

  With that, and the gallery files under my arm, I took a chance and strode into my Superintendent’s office—Dave Delaney. My heart thumped hard enough to have a bloody heart attack at what I was about to spill to him.

  ‘Be with you in a sec.’ Dave shuffled a bunch of papers on his desk and stuffed a few of them into the top drawer.

  ‘Take your time.’ What the hell was I doing? Sense told me to keep him out of this. The guy had a wife and family and more opportunities for promotion. What I was about to tell him would either place him in danger or wreck our friendship. I could almost see him printing off an extended sick-leave form and handing it to me. But then again, he knew me; we’d worked together for years, and it was his encouragement and support that got me the promotion to DI. Could our friendship alone convince him that monsters really did exist?

  Vampires are real, mate. If it sounded stupid saying that in my head, I could imagine what it’d be like coming out of my mouth. The air-con was going full blast, but that still didn’t stop beads of sweat trickling down my lower back. Bloody February humidity.

  Had to blame it on something.

  Could I tackle this vampire vermin on my own? I could try getting the necessary warrants, but Dave had better rapport with the judges than me, and he could obtain the warrants sooner, call a few favours in.

  Either way, I had to set things right.

  Dave slammed the desk drawer shut, looked up and gave me a grin. ‘Right, what can I do for you, Matt?’

  My throat stuck. I cleared it. He had no idea what I was about to hit him with. My hand shook as I laid my phone on his desk. ‘Something on there you need to hear after I’ve finished.’

  ‘Okay.’ He leaned back in his chair, hands clasped on his stomach. ‘I’m listening.’

  ‘Before I start ...’ Voices came from outside his office. I didn’t need anyone else hearing this. After closing the door, I grabbed a chair and perched on the edge of it. ‘I’m telling you; I’m not having a nervous breakdown, and it’s got nothing to do with my head injury. Doctors okayed me on that, so don’t even think of suggesting I go to fucking Bali for a break, all right?’

  His brows shot upwards. ‘Glad we got that cleared.’

  ‘Yeah, well, I had to say it coz you’re going to have a hard time believing me. I didn’t believe it at first either, till I ... saw it.’ I rubbed the damned sweat off my face.

  ‘I’ve never seen you like this. What did you see?’

  I told him everything I knew, including Munro’s part and every particular of the meeting with him in the café, the day Laura introduced us. The day he’d taken her away from me. I clenched my teeth so hard that my jaw ached.

  To give him credit, Dave didn’t interrupt. Didn’t throw me out of his office, either.

  ‘What Munro didn’t know was that I’d recorded it all.’ I tilted my chin toward my phone on his desk. ‘I’d pressed the Record button on my phone in my shirt pocket just as I’d reached the cafe. Nothing illegal about that,’ I added when Dave frowned. Luckily, Munro hadn’t seen the recording when he�
�d erased all references to Laura, including the few snaps of us together. All that I’d left of her. Bastard had even taken that away from me. ‘After you hear the recording, you’ll know why I wanted whatever I could get on him.’

  I pressed Play and watched Dave’s frown dissolve into a wide-eyed stare. His gaze flicked from the mobile to me and back again. I clenched the arms of the chair. His mouth slowly hardened accompanying the tightening under his eyes. He snapped the pencil he’d been doodling with and paused the recording.

  ‘Lucien Lebrettan! Who would’ve thought. The guy was often seen out during the day.’

  ‘The women’s blood, remember? Enables them to come out in daylight. Anyway, he’s dead now.’ News of his death had even made it on the evening news here. To me, it was just one less vampire in the world. Pity it hadn’t been Munro.

  Dave shook his head and pressed Play again before he paused it a second time. ‘“Pernicious anemia”? Is that what he said?’

  I gave a curt nod.

  He replayed it. ‘That’s a threat. Send me that recording. I want it in my files,’ Dave said after he’d listened to it for the second time.

  ‘I couldn’t make this shit up.’

  ‘No, you couldn’t. You don’t have that kind of imagination.’

  ‘Thanks, mate.’ I’d take an backhanded compliment.

  ‘I’ve got to rethink everything I thought I knew about the world.’ Couldn’t blame him for having a hard time believing it.

  ‘I know. It hit me in the gut too.’

  ‘This stays between us.’

  ‘Hell, what do you think?’

  Dave sneered. ‘Munro played me good, didn’t he.’

  ‘At least he hadn’t fucked with your mind as he did with mine.’ My breath sawed in and out as I recalled how Munro had taken away six months of my life, to the time before I’d met Laura and before I’d learnt of their existence. ‘My amnesia had nothing to do with my head injury. Munro wanted to be sure I couldn’t remember anything about him and his bloodsucking lot.’

  Dave slapped his thigh, stood and paced a few steps from where I sat. ‘This changes everything.’ He spun around to face me. ‘I don’t care if they’re supernatural, ultranatural or bloody zombies. Nobody lives outside the law. With Lebrettan gone, Munro’s in charge, right?’ I nodded. ‘What if he loses control again, and there’s another killing spree?’