Desire by Blood (8 page)

Nico rose and started to pace. It was the only way he could
work through his thoughts at times. “She’s…not a nice woman.”

Malik chuckled. “That has never made you not like a woman
before.”

“That is true enough. But this woman…I felt a reaction to
well…protect Cordelia.”

“Of course.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“You might not have mated, but you have chosen to be her
mate. From what I can tell, her sister abandoned her to run off and get
married. And you know what the earl was like, and now his son. No woman in her
right mind would leave a young girl in that house. There was no come-out for
your bride-to-be, either, and her sister could have easily afforded it, but she
did not. It makes sense that you would not like her.”

“But I didn’t know all of this.”

Malik opened his mouth, then snapped it closed.

“What?”

“I think you might have an issue with that now."

"Do tell me your thoughts, Malik."

His friend rarely held anything back, but he could tell that
he was choosing his words wisely.

"We have never been truly mated, either of us. We
definitely have not bound ourselves to anyone. But I do know others who have,
and they tend to be connected even before the binding."

"What do you mean?"

"You felt threatened by Diana because of what she had
done to Cordelia, although you did not know the entire story."

"I still don't."

And that had to be what was bothering him. He could not
understand how a woman of Cordelia's means had set out to London with little to
no support from her family. Not many women could do it, and he would wager
those who could were not of her class.

"No, but you sensed it in Cordelia. She felt threatened
in some way by her sister, and thus, you did."

He did not like that one bit, especially when he was even
wondering now if it were true. Feelings like that could trap him into binding
with her, and after watching what happened to his brother, he would not do
that. Could not.

"Either way, her sister is a cold-hearted bitch."

Malik gave him a knowing look but said nothing. "Yes, I
am sure she is. Not much warmth in that house after their mother died. But
there is one thing you need to worry about."

"You mean other than a rogue Born running the streets
of London and making vamps?"

"Yes. Your fiancée is a Carrier and so is her sister.
Her widowed sister. Who just happened to appear the night you compromised
Cordelia."

"I did not compromise Cordelia."

Malik let one eyebrow rise.

"Well, not entirely."

"That might explain why you are being such an ass. But
if Diana is telepathic, or at least empathic to her sister, which we know
Carriers often are, you are going to have to win her over or she will cause you
problems for years to come."

"She has no power. She is but a widow."

"A woman, yes, and a man who is not leery of a woman's
power is a man about to have the rug pulled out from beneath him."

He opened his mouth to tell Malik to bugger off, but the
door burst open. He recognized the boy from Gray's house.

"You have information for me?"

"Yes," he said, holding out a note.

Quickly he read it, then nodded. He looked at Malik.

"Let's go. It seems our viscount has awakened."

Nico and Malik were shown into an upstairs parlor room where
Gray greeted them. Their usually well-dressed friend was now a mess. His hair
stuck up on top of his head. His shirt was torn, and the tails were hanging out
of his trousers. He had not slept, and Nico was positive he probably had not
fed. The ashen cast to his flesh was testament to the long night.

“You look like hell,” Nico said.

Gray made a face. “I feel like it. It was one long,
hellacious night and day. I don’t think I ever want to go through that again.”

Malik was frowning and had been since they received the
summons. “It usually takes longer than this.”

“Yes, I know. I consulted Bingam about it.”

The physician was a highly sought-after Born. “And?”

“He said it depended on the individual and the fact that he
had our blood, a mixture of it at least, seems to have helped. You know there
is some kind of dependency at times with the Born who offers his blood.”

“I thought it made him more dependent on the Born who turned
him,” Nico said.

“Bingam said that if he was fed that same person’s blood, he
assumed he would be beholden to him. But, being fed a mixture of Born blood
made it easier for him to break the bond. Of course we don’t know for sure.
These are all just theories.”

“It is because the Borns are afraid of researching,” Malik
said.

“What do you mean?” Nico asked.

“Borns fear anything that would allow the underclass of
Mades to gain ground. If it is known just how to battle it, they would lose
their caste system.”

“Bingam also said we might have caught him earlier than
others who have been turned. He had not had a kill, or at least I hope he has
not.” Gray sighed. “What a bloody mess.”

“He is in the room?” Malik asked, nodding his head toward
the doors.

“Yes. He finally came out of the trance he was under. He
remembers nothing."

"He does not know who turned him?"

"No. What is worse, he is wondering why he is here. He
knows something is not right."

"If he woke up naked in that cage, I am sure he has
more than just a few questions," Nico said.

"No, he did not wake up there. He collapsed and we
moved him up here."

Nico nodded.

"He truly cannot remember?" Malik asked. "I
find that odd."

"I did too, but Bingam told me there are things you can
do to alter that. If the Born who made him wants to keep his identity a secret,
he said there are new serums that work very well for that."

"Well, bloody hell. I was hoping for him to tell us who
bit him."

"Everyone is. There was another killing last night in
White Chapel," Gray said. "Borns are already starting to get
restless."

“Being restless does not help if they are not ready to take
action,” Malik said. “The Borns are going to ignore it until they have no
choice. And then, it will be too late.”

Nico tried to ignore what Malik said, but he knew it to be
true. So many of the Borns were lazy, content with the way things were. They
expected this to just disappear because they were the chosen ones.

"Do we have the killer?"

Gray shook his head. "He left a woman on the street,
completely drained of her blood. It is not like the others."

"How so?"

"From reports, she was not raped. She was just
drained."

"Not a Made then," Nico said, nodding. “Possibly
the Born who is making them.”

"That will not matter when the hysteria sets in. They
will be out for Made blood," Malik said.

Nico wanted to argue, but he knew his friend was right. The
fear of another Vlad always simmered in the back of everyone’s minds. It had
almost torn their world apart and exposed them to more than the occasional tale
of bloodsuckers. It had threatened to bring their entire world crumbling. And
from that, the Vampire Alliance had formed. They had no major problems until
now.

Knowing it would not do him any good to dwell on the past,
Nico put it out of his mind. "Let's go see the patient."

Gray nodded. "He has not really spoken. He did wake
once, took some water in, but that was all."

He opened the room, which was decidedly darker. It was a
large cavernous room, and from the look of it, it was not one for the family
but for guests. "Who is there?" a weak voice asked from the bed.

"He cannot see?" Nico asked.

"It is hard to see when you first turn."

Nico had not asked Malik of his turning, but he did know
that there was much of it that he hid from everyone. Too much. He hated that he
might have to push Malik to tell him more. Truly, Nico did not want to know,
but with things progressing this rapidly, he might have to ask. And worse—he
would have to listen.

"You are adjusting to the new genes in your system.
Your body can take up to a few weeks to grow accustomed to it."

He nodded in understanding.

"He is safe now?"

"I would not take him out in society for a few weeks.
That is if he survives being told that everything he once knew is
altered."

Gray led them to Hurst’s bedside. The man once known as
Viscount Hurst looked as if he had been sick for months. He had lost weight,
his facial bones more pronounced now. It was hard to believe that the man who
had attacked him the night before was the wasted Made now resting in the bed.

"Do you remember anything yet?" Gray asked.

"No. Just as I told you earlier. I cannot remember a
thing." He swallowed as if trying to pull himself together. Nico imagined
that he was. It was hard enough waking up in the unknown, but he was sure being
in Gray's possession truly confused him.

"Does someone want to tell me what I am doing here?"
he asked.

"You remember nothing of what happened in the library
or before that?" Gray asked.

"I remember going to a bawdy house a few nights
ago...or was it weeks? Then nothing. It is foggy. Did that just happen last
night?"

Nico shared a glance with Malik.

"Do you know the date that you went to the
whorehouse?"

Slowly, he lifted his hand to rub his eyes. His actions
spoke of a man who had been to battle and lost. If Gray looked ashen, their
newly Made looked like death warmed over. Nico assumed that every bit of his
strength was being used just to lift his hand.

"I believe it was the fifth...why?"

It was ten days later. "That was over a week ago,"
Nico said.

Hurst’s eyes widened. Their color had lightened, and the
pale green almost matched Malik’s.

"That can't be. Do you mean to say that I have been
sleeping for days?"

"No, you were awake,” Gray said.

He frowned. “I do not remember.”

“No, I don’t believe you will,” Nico said.

“It will be best that you do not,” Malik said as he walked
forward. “Remembering what you have been through will do no good for you, so it
is best not to worry.”

Nico knew then that Malik remembered ever second of his
change, and knowing the person he was, he would relive it every night.

“Remember what?” Hurst tried to sit up but ended up
collapsing against the pillows. His eyes narrowed as he raked his gaze over
them. “Just tell me what the bloody hell is going on?”

Nico looked at Malik. “I think you would be the best to
explain everything.”

Malik studied Nico for a moment, then nodded. “Hurst, what
you know of your life is over.”

*
 
*
 
*
 
*

By the time Nico returned to his own house, he was
exhausted. Most of the night before he had been working with Gray, then the
early day visit with Cordelia, and then back to Gray’s. He needed a healthy
night’s rest, or maybe two.

Worse, watching Hurst discover that his life was completely
changed, that everything he had known was now gone, had been draining. Sure, he
could live as someone in the
ton
, but
he would spend his life watching his friends and family die. Nico himself had
been through that, and it had been horrifying. It was something he did not wish
on anyone, Born, Made, or human.

“You should probably stay in tonight, old man,” said Malik.
“Not sure if you are up to a soiree.”

He shot his friend a nasty look as his butler opened the
door. “Bugger off.”

“That is no way for a gentleman to talk, Nicodemus.”

He glanced down the hallway and found his parents standing
in the foyer. Bloody, bloody hell.

“When did you arrive?” he asked as he strode forward to hug
his mother. The smell of lavender immediately surrounded him. He could never
smell the blossom and not think of his mother.

“Just in time,” she said, then gave him a kiss and drew
back. “Are you going to tell me what all the gossip is about?”

“Always cutting to the chase, mother?” Nico asked.

She gave him a knowing look. In all his five hundred years
he could never fool his mother. The woman was one of the strongest Carriers he
knew. She didn’t suffer fools, and she always knew what he was up to. It was a
bit disconcerting that his mother was so tapped into his life.

“Adelaide, do you think we could possibly let the boys join
us in the parlor? Nicodemus looks like death incarnate at the moment,” his
father said.

She sighed and nodded. Then she looked over his shoulder.
“Do not think you will be getting away tonight, Malik. Come, join us.”

He glanced at his friend and smiled. The irritated look on
Malik’s face told Nico that he still was not comfortable with his mother’s
insistence that he was part of the family. She did not wait, though. As usual,
she turned and started to walk into the parlor. His father gave him an amused
look and followed.

“Come on, Malik, there is no way out of it now.”

He said nothing but he did follow Nico. His mother took a
seat on the couch and was joined by his father. He studied them for a moment.
His father did not look a day over fifty and his mother the same. No one would
expect that they were both over six hundred years old. For their kind, being
surrounded by family usually gave them a sense of peace. It had been even more
so after his brother had died. For some reason, he felt as if he itched from
the inside out.

“I want to know what is going on.”

“Yes, mother I do believe you did mention that earlier. I
sent you a message, but that was only a few hours ago. What I am trying to
understand is why you are here?”