Fire Nectar 2 (4 page)

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Authors: Faleena Hopkins

BOOK: Fire Nectar 2
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Joshua’s eyes were wide as his wits gathered together to reassemble as his own. The proximity and intensity of his maker’s face shattered the last of his insanity. He nodded and blinked. Eyes finally cleared to crystal, he nodded once more.

Ludovico hesitated before releasing him, making sure the choice was a safe one. The two sat side by side on the floor, listening. Light, feminine footsteps were now just twenty paces from the door.

Joshua whispered hoarsely, leaning back on both hands, “I’m terribly sorry. I don’t know what came over me. I’m myself again, I assure you. The thirst. It feels as though there are voices in my head telling me to do things I am loathe to admit even to myself!”

“I understand exactly. I am like you and you like I, as it will always be. Hear me, for I’ve not time to tell you twice. We do not kill the innocent. You will drink from her, but will not take her life! We kill the evil amongst us, and only them! That is the law and we abide it lest life be robbed of people who make it worth living. This girl… she is providing a service and you will do her the honor of keeping her whole, out of gratitude.” He smiled then, because Joshua looked so severe as to be ridiculous. “Should you lose control, I shall regain it for you, mark my words. She has arrived. Let us greet your dinner.”

5
Present Day
San Francisco

T
he ticket agent
smiled as he returned and held his look a little longer than was necessary. She couldn’t help it. He had a good face

clean, boyish, and warm. She liked the look of it, and felt instantly that he must be a good man. How she knew, was beyond her. Instinct?
Always trust your instincts,
she told herself.

“Your eyes light up when you smile,” Joshua told her as he placed his satchel on the counter between them. She blushed like a schoolgirl, despite her years. He guessed her to be just over forty and wearing it well. Her makeup and hair were tasteful. She wore only two rings on her fingers - one a wedding band - and in her ears sat two studs the shape of tiny seashells. “Do you enjoy the beach?”

“I do! How did you know that?” she asked in astonishment.

He removed his wallet from the pocket of his jeans. “Your earrings. Where did you get them?”

“I got them in Monterey.” She hesitated before adding the next bit. “With my husband.”

“Ah, so you’re taken. I thought as much. I saw the ring on your finger. Nearly broke my heart.” His eyes glinted flirtatiously and she melted.

“You’re just flattering me,” she chided him, from behind a wistful, knowing smile.

“I am flattering you, yes. But I am not ‘just’ flattering you. I’m saying the truth. You can hear it in my voice, yes? Trust your instincts. It will serve you, far more than any other sense you own, I can promise you.”

She nodded and smiled shyly at him. “I was just thinking the same thing!”

“Were you? Well, you’re a beautiful woman with a beautiful smile and a voice that makes me forget that ring, don’t doubt me. So let’s stop talking and get to business before I steal you from him. We don’t want that, do we?” He beckoned her to lean in as he reached forward to move a stray hair from her forehead. Her knees weakened to the extreme.

“No…we don’t want that,” she said half-heartedly, typing into the computer to distract her quickening heart.

His elbow lay casually on the counter between them. “No name tag?” He was enjoying himself; it was only half a game. He enjoyed making women happy. It came naturally to him and it felt good to see them smile. There was also a certain power to it. One of the benefits of self-mastery is the confidence and knowledge of self that comes with it. Ludovico and William had taught him well.

The ticket agent answered from beneath her eyelashes. “I forgot my name tag at home. My name is Marion.”

He looked at her in surprise, eyes narrowing. “Pardon?” She could not have said that name. He must have heard her wrong. She must have said Mary or Melody or Ryan. “What did you say?”

“Marion. I know… it’s not a common name. It’s French, after my father’s mother,” she continued on, having gone too far down the path of fantasy to see the change in him. His expression traveled from horror to shock, and then to forced composure as he fiercely shoved away the feeling of foreboding. It’s merely a coincidence, he told himself. But damn if it wasn’t poor timing. “She was French. Which makes me part French as well. But I’ve never been. Not yet, anyway. You sound like you have an accent. Is it French? I was thinking it was, but it’s so faint, I couldn’t be sure.”

Joshua put the antique satchel back on his shoulder and shoved his hands back into his jeans, all flirtatiousness gone immediately. “My accent is French, yes. May I have one ticket to Los Angeles for tomorrow night? The first one you have after 8pm. Thank you… Marion.” The distaste with which he said the word could not be hidden; it had acid attached to it.

Her smile twisted to forced and confused as she nodded and busied herself, hesitantly typing into her computer, wondering what she’d done wrong. She didn’t want him to go, and wondered at the coldness in his voice, hopefully wishing it was from a desire to distance himself from a married woman, to avoid the dangerous path her charms might lead him down. Although she’d never admit it, she secretly hoped he might suggest a rendezvous in the bathroom the was just steps away from them. It was a ‘family restroom’ so it had one large stall and a lock on the door. She loved her husband and never thought such things! Blushing the color of a plum, she focused on reading his passport.

“Joshua Cohen. Oh, you’re Jewish! Well, that makes sense now. No wonder why I’m so… why you’re so… um, appealing. My husband is Jewish, too. I have a weakness for men like you, I guess. But he’s Russian. I didn’t know there were Jewish people in France!” As soon as the words slipped carelessly out of her lips, she wished desperately she could take them back.

“Yes, we live everywhere.”

She hastily handed the passport and ticket to his waiting hand. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” She blinked and held his eyes, trying to understand. “Something about you makes me a little googly.”

“I understand…Marion. Something about you makes me feel the same. Goodnight.” He didn’t add the caveat that it was her name and not her smile, nor her deliciously racing heart, that caused this feeling in him.

Marion. Why did her name have to be Marion? God…what kind of prankster are you?

As he walked away he pulled out his phone and dialed. Daniella’s name jumped onto the screen with the absence of a photo. It occurred to him then that he owned no pictures of her. He vowed to remedy that, hoping he’d have the chance. He frowned as her machine answered.
What is happening down there
, he wondered, not liking in the least that he had a clear suspicion.

“Dani here. You know what to do, and if you don’t, I can’t help you.” The beep sounded for him to leave a voicemail.

“Dani, it’s Josh. William and I couldn’t get a flight out tonight. Because of the noise curfew, there are no flights until morning. I’m in San Francisco, but I don’t have emergency lodgings set up for dawn on the freeways. I’ll be on the first plane out tomorrow. I look forward to seeing your face again, mon ami.”

As he stepped on the rubber mat, the electric doors opened, allowing the cool air to rush over him. He headed to the taxi stand, still holding the phone to his ear in silence, her voicemail waiting patiently for his goodbye. He wondered if he should say more. In a quieter, more intimate tone, he chose to add, “Dani, I understand what you’re going through right now. I understand it more than Elizabeth does and I want you to know, you’re not alone. Do you hear me? You’re not alone. I’ll see you tomorrow. Adieu.”

He hung up just as a taxi driver opened a door to his car. Damn the sun, he thought. He didn’t want to wait.

6
19 May 1812
La Chabanais - Paris

T
he soft knock
on the door was charming. It was as quiet as a child’s, only higher up on the wood. The vampires stood up from the floor, dusted themselves off and straightened their waistcoats. Planning to be near the girl lest there be need of a rescue, Ludovico motioned for Joshua to stay put until. Joshua watched Ludovico walk toward the door and steeled himself for anything, his self-containment once more a struggle. Excitement and fear battled within his every cell. The fear was of the most terrifying of foes…the unknown. His behavior a moment ago had surprised him. He’d never before been a violent man in any way and here he was with murder on the mind. He gulped–an unreleased human habit–as Ludovico cast a sharp warning glance toward him and gravely turned the doorknob with a human’s slower pace.

The door opened wide. Before them stood the loveliest woman Joshua had ever seen. She was as Ludovico had requested, shyly demure, with hair like silky chocolate that was tied in ribbon and ringlets of the current fashion, and skin pink with youthful bloom. She was not dressed as the other women he had seen this night. Instead, her dress was modest and it matched the deep, beautiful green of her eyes exactly. Rounded with innocence and larger than her face should allow, those eyes bewitched his heart as they peeked into the room with delicate, ethereal curiosity. She looked up at Ludovico. They widened still more! But when they fell on Joshua’s speechless countenance, a shy smile tickled her lips and she, on the whole, appeared to shine brightly–a light that felt like it was just for him. He had never been so singularly stunned in all his life.

She stepped gingerly into the room, past Ludovico whom she now seemed to have forgotten altogether, toward the equally awestruck composer who gaped at her with eyebrows raised high. Upon breathing her in, her scent of freshly washed roses, milk and innocence filled his body with an aching that longed to pull her into his arms where he could inhale her soul.

She parted her soft pink lips to speak, to beg pardon and introduce herself with merely a whisper, “Je m’apelle Marion. Bonjour.”

It was the end of him. Joshua fell at once, head over heels in blinded love.

All his fears dissipated immediately. How could he hurt this girl? He could not. He would not! This vow he gave himself instantly and meant to keep it, no matter what the price. And on the heels of this silent promise, he stepped forth and bowed deeply, rising to take her hand in his. He gracefully lifted it to his lips and kissed it with a firm sense of ownership.

“Bonjour mademoiselle Marion. Je m’apelle Joshua. Et mon amî Ludovico.”

Her smile widened in reward and she blinked once, gazing at him as a soft pink flush rose to stain her porcelain cheeks.

Ludovico grinned and sat down with a powerful thud on the couch, happily throwing his ankle over his knee again, his most comfortable of postures. He could plainly see that the air was safe for letting down one’s guard, for now. It was with excessive amusement that Ludovico watched the two lovers for he knew the girl to be more experienced than she let on. Joshua had a clear heart and it glowed bright and true. Not a liar himself, it was not his nature to lead with suspicion, as many did. He would never have suspected that her act was just good business. She was not at all a virgin, nor anything close to such. On nights previous, when Ludovico had come to le Chabanais on his own, he had witnessed for himself her act performed as thus, and with a different man each night. None, however, were so heartily duped as his gullible, inexperienced friend, and this made him smile from ear to ear to watch the play. He’d tell him later... perhaps in a hundred years. They had all the time in the world to laugh together at this moment. Now, was his alone to enjoy.

Why spoil the fun?

Joshua guided the young Marion to a chair and offered her a glass of Burgundy.

“Bonté me! Would it be very wicked of me?” she asked with the sweet excitement of the young.

“Only a little wicked, perhaps,” Ludovico chimed in with a knowing smile.

Joshua shot him a look and turned back to Marion. “He is only funning. It would not be at all wicked, my dearest.”

“Everything in moderation, my dear,” Ludovico said with a highly amused smile as he watched Joshua pour a small glass and hand it to her outstretched hands. She wrapped both around it, as a child might. Raising it to her lips, she tucked her nose into the glass, breathed in the spicy aroma and then, to both men’s surprise, drank it down in one gulp.

Looking up with those beautiful green eyes, she gave Joshua her most winning smile and held out the glass, with eyebrows raised eagerly for more. “Well, now,” he laughed, “looks like it agrees with you!”

She brought one hand to her bosom in uncertainty, her smile dropped at once. “Oh, was that very bad of me?” Ludovico was entertained beyond anything and cocked his head to the side in disbelief. The effect women could have on the male species never ceased to amaze him. He was not immune, under normal circumstances. Had he not seen the vixen’s performances previously, he too, would have been bamboozled. He had to own she was incredibly charming, entirely believable, and diamond-bright.

Joshua instructed with the patience of a saint. “Not bad, per se. You drank fast, yes, but I blame myself for poor teaching.”

“Might I try again? I will be more careful, Monsieur Joshua.”

“Of course. When you say my name that way, I will bend my back past snapping to give you the world.” He leaned in closely to her, locking eyes with hers. “Your voice is to me like the sun is to fruit on a vine.”

Ludovico coughed in an attempt to disguise his laughter. Joshua shot him a look that helped contain his mirth. Marion pushed up her glass for another lesson, tout suite.

Joshua smiled, stepped away and poured again. “Savor it, my fairest. The cherry oak flavor conveys more thoroughly to the tongue, when sipped.”

“Savor it,” she repeated as though to memorize, an action that filled him full with masculine pride and importance. She took a small sip and looked up to him from underneath her lashes for approval. Spellbound, he grinned and took a seat beside her.

“You don’t want the Burgundy, sirs?” she asked, looking from one to the other, aware that both her companions held not one glass.

Ludovico broke in, taking this as reminder to hurry things along. “Which brings us to our next point of business.”

Joshua’s ears could hear of nothing but love. “What brings you to this line of work, Marion?” he asked tenderly, free of judgment.

The question surprised her. She had not been asked it before, not once. Entirely flustered, she cast her gaze downward to her glass and found solace in it. When she looked up, his heart broke in two. She could not hide her shame, although she tried. Lifting her trembling chin upward in dignity, she told them with unexpected candor, “My family was very poor, Monsieur. My mother died in childbirth and my papa raised me and my brothers on his own, with naught but a farmer’s salary to feed six mouths. My brothers, as soon as they were of age, left to serve Napoleon in the Grand Armée. I could not, as I am just a girl and females are the weaker sex, we know.”

They could see her struggle as she doubted whether to go on. No one wished to know the truth of a whore’s tale, she knew… but the silence of her attentive audience of two made her think they were truly interested. This touched her. After a deep breath and one more sip of courage, she quietly confided, “When my kind papa passed to heaven, I was left with no solution, save this. Had I not come to le Chabanais, what was to become of me? With no dowry, what had I had to offer a husband, outside of love and a true heart? With no momma or relative to speak of, who was I to rely on to present me to society? And where was I to live?” A tear fell down her cheek, wiped quickly away with her hand as she forced forth a smile, hoping not to be thrown from the room. Both were silent and she waited with bated breath, earnestly hoping she’d not said too much. But neither of the two males present wished her to go.

It was Ludovico who spoke first. He had never wondered at the reason one might find themselves here; he had simply enjoyed their presence. “My dear, you had an unfair hand dealt you and I am sorry to hear it.” She wiped away a fresh tear brought forth from his kindness. The look she lifted to him was so vulnerable that it filled his heart. There were too few routes for women to take, he knew. But time was running short. Dawn threatened just beyond time’s corner. He looked at the clock and stood up, cutting through the somber air with his bulk. “I’m sorry, but time is running short. Marion, your story is quite moving and we thank you for sharing it. It shows a great deal of trust. Do you trust us?” She nodded, looking down at her empty glass. Nervously anticipating Ludovico’s intentions, Joshua stood and filled her glass once more, handing it to her with haste. She took it gratefully, eyes on the elder vampire as she listened, gulping it down. “You might want to finish that before I continue. It might make what I have to say more… palatable.”

Joshua rapidly walked to the wall and used it to prop himself up. Anxiety partnered with thirst rose within him, an equal match for one another. He knew he must eat this night. Innocent Marion’s impact on his soul had held his bloodlust at bay, but it was on him again and he was growing weak beneath it. He looked gaunt, pale. He needed it. It had been hours since Ludovico had shared his own blood with him, and his thirst could not be satiated with vampire blood alone.

Marion looked backward to Joshua with a questioning glance. Upon seeing the fear in his eyes, she hastily followed instruction to drink the Burgundy down in its entirety. She was ready. “Oui monsieur. I trust you.” She held tight to the empty glass as he spoke.

“Joshua needs you, Marion. And not in the way that men have needed you. He is not a man. No, indeed, my good friend Joshua, is a god.”

Both Joshua’s and Marion’s eyes turned to saucers at the word. A god?

In truth Ludovico did not believe they were gods. He did not believe that gods existed save perhaps, one, and of that he was not sure. But he didn’t have time to try a longer route to acceptance from the girl. He needed her to comply, and quickly. And he knew that women had a spiritual connection to the earth and often believed in all things magical. It was his best chance.

Had he known the effect the word would have, he would have found a way out of saying it, gone back in time perhaps, to swallow back the ludicrous statement before it had left his lips. Had he known the effect it would have, he would have swept Joshua away at once, thirst or no thirst. Had he known, he could have given his comrade more of his own blood to abate the hunger until they found a safer candidate. But he had not known. Because he was, in fact…not a god.

“A god? Je ne comprends pas.” Looking from one to the other in vain, she saw her questions returned with serious stares. Was he really a god, she wondered, elated by the promising prospect.

“Yes, a god. He does not need food nor water, nor even wine to stay alive. He needs you. He needs your essence, your blood, to help him live, forever.”

“Forever?” She asked, eyes locked on Joshua in concentration.

“Yes, forever. Gods don’t die, my dear.”

“You cannot die?” She’d seen these two were different, had observed their intensely compelling eyes that seemed to harbor secrets, saw the way they could hold themselves so still as if there was no life in them, saw no blemishes upon their pale perfect skin, unlike the dirtier more unkempt men who came to this place. Questions streamed, begging to be answered, but she knew better than to question a man too much. The best course of action would be submitting to them, she determined. Then she would discover if what he said was true.

She must know more. Her heart told her so. “I will be surrender to any of your needs.”

“Excellent. Joshua, the time is now.” Ludovico motioned to his fledgling whose uncertainty was apparent. “Joshua, now!”

Marion stared at Joshua, uncertain of what was to come. She watched the battle rage within him, saw his hands clutch the curtains near. Obviously the gentler of the two males, that he was so torn made her stomach turn in knots, her skin break out in goose bumps, and the hair on the back of her neck stand on end. His eyes were frightening to her suddenly. He looked like a wild beast. Terror gripped her. Was she to die? Was she to live? Tortured by suspense, she yelled out before she’d even realized she’d said the words, “Do it, Joshua! Do it!”

Her command was all he needed. He flashed to her with vampyric speed. She gasped in surprise to see him vanish, then materialize inches from her face as her body was powerfully and swiftly lifted up in his arms. She knew in that moment that it was true. She was in the hands of a god.

He buried his teeth into her neck and she shuddered knowing she had found home.

Joshua loved her as he drank from her. Her story, shared with such candor and trust, beat in time with her blood. He massaged her thighs, her ass, and then sought the secret place between her legs, determined to make all of her pain forgotten. She moaned and reached her arms around his head, pulling him closer to her, embracing him and giving herself to him without question.

Ludovico watched the scene with pride as he counted the seconds out of habit. Her heart would be slowing soon. He must time this well. How best to extract the new vampire from his first neck, he wondered. Should he attempt to merely vocalize instruction or would a more forceful route better serve the purpose? As he went back and forth on the choice, to his great surprise, Joshua pulled out of his own accord, smoothing her hair as she gazed into his face from behind sleepy half-mast eyes. Joshua carried her gently to the couch and laid her down. Joshua turned and asked of his sire, “Shall I cut myself then?” His skin was flushed and healthy once more as he stood above the quiet, awestruck, staring maiden. Ludovico was astounded!

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