Need (16 page)

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Authors: Todd Gregory

BOOK: Need
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“I'm not completely helpless,” I protested. “I mean, I may not be able to do the mind-reading thing or—”
“Of course you aren't. I didn't mean to imply that you were.” The old man flashed a warm smile at me. “You're much less helpless than you would have been had you remained merely human, after all. You're stronger, you can see in the dark, you don't need as much sleep”—he shrugged—“and the more time passes, the more blood you ingest, the stronger you will become, the stronger your heart will become. Humans truly aren't a threat to you—but humans aren't the only creatures out there.” He closed his eyes. “Witches, werewolves, fairies, shifters, and pixies—all of those things are real, not simply creatures from horror novels or bogeymen to frighten small children into behaving. And some of them are dangerous to vampires. You've already encountered a witch with delusions of grandeur.” He shook his head again. “And don't think for a moment that there aren't others out there like Sebastian Narcisse. For centuries, we have all peacefully coexisted and abided by the rules set by the Council. But things are changing for some reason, Cord, and I don't understand why that is. Sebastian isn't the only witch with the desire to become a god—and a vampire as young as you, with a heart as weak as yours currently is, you're easy prey for a powerful witch. That's why Rachel and I are so concerned about this . . .
relationship
you've begun with his twin. His twin, Cord.” He ran a hand through his mane of white hair. “
Identical
twin. Identical twins are identical in every way—so why would Sebastian be gifted with great power while his twin was not?”
“Quentin said he wanted nothing to do with the family powers,” I replied slowly, beginning to see his point and beginning to feel more than a little afraid. “That he didn't believe in them and turned his back on them, on his family. I believe him, Nigel. He meant what he said.”
“I don't doubt his sincerity, Cord. But not believing in his powers doesn't mean he doesn't have them, you know. Perhaps now he doesn't want them, but if he ever experiences that power . . . power corrupts.” He smiled at me sadly. “Even your power as a vampire can corrupt your soul. I've seen it happen to vampires, ones who thought we should take over the world and enslave humans, reduce them to nothing more than milk cows to feed our need for their blood. There was a war . . .” His voice trailed off for a moment, and he shook his head. “Anyway, that means Quentin can still be dangerous to you. You didn't feed from him, did you? He doesn't know what you are?”
“No.” Everything he said made terrible sense, one that made me afraid. They were right—I needed to stay away from Quentin.
The thought made my heart hurt.
Jared muttered something and shifted on the bed.
“What did he say?” Nigel moved so quickly I didn't even see it—one moment he was sitting in the chair, the next he was leaning over Jared on the other side of the bed.
“I didn't hear him,” I replied.
Jared shifted again. He started moving back and forth, writhing like he was having a terrible nightmare, and his lips moved in a slight groan that shaped itself into words. I still couldn't make out what he was saying.
“You could if you focused,”
Nigel's voice echoed inside my head.
“I understand what he is saying. Focus, young Cord, and you will too.”
“Don't do that,” I replied as Jared rolled over onto his stomach. His legs flailed a bit and the covers slid down his back, exposing the beginning of the curve of his ass. I pulled the blanket back up.
Nigel straightened up, and narrowed his eyes. He relaxed a bit, but he said imperiously, “You can guard your mind from us, you know. You simply have to learn how.”
“Great, something else I need to learn,” I replied sarcastically. I gestured at Jared's sleeping form. “So, what exactly did he say?”
Nigel walked over to the door and gestured for me to follow him into the living room. I slid the pocket doors closed behind us and leaned back up against them, folding my arms while I waited for him to answer me.
“He said
Sebastian still lives.
” Nigel slid down onto the sofa and closed his eyes. “I don't know how that could be possible, though. Sebastian is dead. I saw it happen—”
“You were there?” I gaped at him.
He didn't look at me or answer my question. “And his body was destroyed in the fire. They found two bodies—and one was definitely Sebastian's.” He glanced over at me. “When one is going through the conversion process, like young Jared is, their powers are being turned on like a series of switches.” He nodded. “Yes, that's the best way to describe it. As the human mind, through the vampiric blood, becomes more powerful, awakens to its full and true potential, it begins accessing the power that will eventually become second nature to use.” He tapped the right side of his skull with his left index finger. “But when he returns to consciousness, his human brain will again limit his abilities—until he is trained in how to use them.”
“Rachel said that it comes with time, and age,” I replied. “So, you're saying that I can do everything you and she can—I just don't know how?” I liked the sound of it.
“Your mind, yes.” He was nodding. “Your body—to achieve the ability to fly, to move in the blink of an eye, to become invisible to humans—that will take years to achieve, and right now your heart, your blood, isn't powerful enough. But it will come in time, and your mind already has the ability to speak telepathically, to communicate with the dead, for example, or see things. Humans could do it, if they knew how. Humans don't use even ten percent of the power of their minds.” He gestured at Jared. “He said
Sebastian still lives,
which is very peculiar. His mind cannot tell lies—his mind right now is operating much like a supercomputer, processing everything at rapid speeds. So, he must somehow be sensing something that I cannot.” He sighed. “You're absolutely certain that this Quentin is not actually Sebastian?”
I started to deny it, but stopped myself.
I didn't
know.
There were differences, but—
Sebastian was a witch, and a powerful one.
“Witches can't cheat death, can they?” I asked slowly. “They are mortal, aren't they?”
“They are more than human, yes, but they are still bound by the same physical law of mortality as humans,” Nigel replied. “Only vampires have life eternal. Witches and werewolves, other nonhumans, they might have slightly longer life spans, but not so much as to make humans notice.”
“Wouldn't I have—”
“Noticed?” A slight smile played across his lips. “It's not like the two experiences were similar, were they? I believe your experience with this Quentin was what would be considered more
normal,
while the experience with Sebastian was perhaps a little more perverse, in the way humans understand and perceive sexuality?”
I remembered the powerful urges I'd felt, the desire to hurt and dominate him in ways I'd never felt or wanted to before. I swallowed. “It was more traditional, I suppose, but . . .” I didn't know if I could tell him.
Of course, I didn't have to say anything. He could see into my head whenever he wanted. His eyes narrowed. “Actually, what you were experiencing, what you wanted to do to him was similar to what Sebastian had done to you before Jean-Paul and the others rescued you?”
“Yeah. It was strange.”
“Twins.” He stroked his chin. “Yin and yang. Witch twins are often two different halves of the whole. Opposites. What Sebastian did to you would of course be what Quentin would want done to him.”
“You're saying it was really
Quentin
who made me want to do those things?”
“It's very possible—which would, of course, mean that Quentin isn't Sebastian.” He shook his head, the long white locks bouncing. “Unless somehow their two souls joined when Sebastian's body died . . .”
“Well, he said his grandmother claimed Sebastian is still tied to this world.” I nodded again. “Maybe going up to Bayou Shadows to see his grandmother, and talk to her, would be helpful—she might be able to release Sebastian and put an end to all of this.”
No matter what Rachel thinks.
A cramp seized my stomach.
“And you said he cursed me,” I went on, ignoring the cramp, hoping it would go away. I knew what it meant—the desire for blood was coming on. “Wouldn't releasing his soul break the curse?” I closed my eyes and willed the cramp to go away.
But I could feel the dryness coming on in my mouth, the slight ache in my right temple. My eyes began to burn a little bit. The cramp faded, but I felt hollow and empty inside.
It's a truly horrible feeling.
“Yes, it would release you and break the curse, whatever it is.” He got up and walked over to the bookcase. He ran his fingers along the spines of the books, and some dust flew up. “Sebastian Narcisse was a terrible person, consumed by his lust for power.” He turned back to me. “The Council of Witches had already warned the Nightwatchers about him—but I still don't understand why there is so little information about the bloodline in our records. As powerful as he was—”
“Why don't you come to Bayou Shadows with us?” I replied. “You can ask his grandmother for yourself. Maybe she knows. Maybe they've just managed to fly under the radar for a long time. Isn't that possible?”
“Anything's possible.” He sounded tired again. “But witches cannot be trusted,” he mused. “It's entirely possible. . .” His eyes widened. “No, it can't be.”
“What?”
“The curse. Of course.” He threw open the pocket doors and sped into the room, sitting on the bed beside Jared. Jared's restlessness had passed, and he lay still. Were it not for the slight rise and fall of his chest, I'd think he was dead. Nigel stared at me. “He cursed you in the most horrible of ways.” He shook his head. “What a bastard! We do need to free his soul so it can burn.” His voice was venomous.
“What do you mean?” I could feel fear rising inside of me. I didn't like the way this was going.
“Gunther.”
He stood up and started pacing. “I wonder if he was cursed as well? It never occurred to me . . . How could I have been so blind? So stupid? And there was a witch family in that village. I'll have to check the records.”
“What are you talking about?”
He turned back to me. “The curse that Sebastian put on you? If you ever feed from someone you care about, someone you truly love, the wounds won't heal. They will die—unless you turn them.”
“But . . .” A chill went through me, followed by yet another cramp, this one so powerful I gasped out loud.
“Vampires have been cursed before by witches, and usually the curse dies with the witch, but your curse survived Sebastian's death—in fact, he somehow managed to cast the curse as he died, and it still hangs over you.” He leaned forward. “Now tell me again. Are you
certain
Quentin is not Sebastian?”
“I can't be certain of anything.” I stood up and stretched. Another cramp shot through my system, and this time it was so strong I doubled over. I gasped as yet another one ripped through my stomach.
It had never been this strong before. Even when I'd so foolishly tried to see how long I could go without feeding, the cramps had not been so strong. I'd simply felt hunger and need, felt hollow and empty inside, nothing as strong as this.
“You need to feed.” Nigel was at my side in a moment, his hand under my chin and forcing my head up. He stared into my eyes. “Your body—it metabolized the stripper's blood too quickly. You need to go feed.”
“I—”
“Feed before it's too late. Go!” He waved his hand in dismissal.
I walked out the front door, closing it behind me as yet another cramp ripped through me. I gasped and had to put my hands against the door to keep from falling down. I staggered down the steps and became aware of the scent of blood, the beating of a heart, very close . . . oh so close.
I staggered down the steps and somehow managed to make it to the corner before another cramp doubled me over yet again and an involuntary cry came out of my mouth. I wanted to get to a gay bar, have nothing to do with the crowds on Bourbon Street. I could smell blood in the air; someone's heart was beating stronger, and I followed it like a beacon. I turned on Dauphine. It was always a quiet street, even though the insanity of Bourbon was a mere street away. I wasn't aware of anything other than the smell of blood and the sound of that strong heartbeat, beckoning me forward. I staggered down the sidewalk, looking like yet another idiot who'd had too much to drink. I felt so hollow, so empty.
Must find the blood . . . must find that heartbeat.
And there it was.
There was a young man leaning against a building about a half-block up Dauphine Street. He was talking on a cell phone. I could see his jugular vein pounding in his neck.

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