The Elemental Mysteries: Complete Series (152 page)

“But then how—”

Carwyn broke in. “Leave that to me.” He gave her a quick wink. “Just a few days and I’ll have something worked out.”

Beatrice looked over to Tenzin, who was exchanging some kind of wordless communication with the priest. All of a sudden, her friend nodded. “Ah, yes. Send him to me when he gets here, and I’ll fill him in on what I know about the castle.”

“Good.”

Beatrice felt her anger spike. “Will someone clue me in, please? It
is
my husband we’re talking about.”

Carwyn reached over and patted her hand. “Not just now. I’ll fill you in, but I have a feeling our friend here is tiring.”

Beatrice looked at the sky, which was still pitch black. Then she looked at Lucien, who had been listening silently to their conversation while leaning his head back and letting his fingers brush through the tangled ferns that lined the edge of the fountain.

“Oh,” he murmured, “don’t mind me. I’m quite comfortable and quite happy to stay out of all of it.”

“Lucien,” Tenzin said, “you’re neck-deep in all this, and you know it.”

He opened his eyes, looking around the courtyard for a moment before he locked his eyes on Beatrice. Eyes that could never belong to a mortal man. They were stone-grey and ringed by a deep brown. Like bits of rock emerging from the earth. Despite the lack of lines on his face, she knew Lucien Thrax had seen many centuries.

As if guessing her thoughts, he said, “I’m almost as old as this one.” He winked at Tenzin.

“Where—”

“I come from the mountains, like my mother. But farther north. Not all that far from here, as the crow flies.”

Beatrice took a deep breath. “Not that you’re unwelcome, but
why
are you here? I know you’re not one of Geber’s four if you’re an earth vampire. You’re old enough, but Geber’s earth immortal was a woman.”

“What a wonderful mind you have, Beatrice.” He smiled and drifted in the cool night air. “And you ask an excellent question. Ever since Tenzin found me near my home, I’ve been hoping I might be able to help you. You see, in addition to being a good friend, Ioan and I were colleagues, as you would say now.”

“Colleagues?”

“Yes, though we trained centuries apart, the healing of vampires and humans was our shared interest, and we often corresponded. I’ve brought some letters and papers that might be of use to you.”

“Letters? From Ioan?”

“Yes, there were a number of books and papers he sent some time ago that he asked me to look over. They concerned his research into vampiric blood and his theories on what might alter it. His ideas were interesting, even going back to our origins, as mysterious as those are.”

Beatrice sat forward, enthralled by Lucien’s quiet voice. “What do you mean?”

“Why do we live as we do? Why do we have an affinity for the elements? Why must we drink from the blood of living humans or beasts to remain as we are? Why do we heal from injury?”

“And why,” Carwyn asked in a quiet voice, “is our blood unable to heal humans as it heals others of our kind?”

Lucien nodded. “Ioan and I both researched this question over the years. We both had our own theories. He was convinced that there must be some way that we could harness the power of our blood to make humanity stronger. A trade, if you will. That we might drink from them, but that we could offer something good in return.”

“Just like Geber.”

Lucien offered her a sad smile. “You speak of the elixir.”

Beatrice blinked. “Yes! How do you—”

“Oh, my dear Beatrice.” Lucien nodded and slumped in his chair, staring into the burbling fountain. “I’m very well acquainted with Geber’s elixir. You see...” He looked back to meet her eyes. “I’ve taken it.”

By the time Beatrice noticed Ziri had joined them, she was immersed in Lucien’s story. The old wind vampire drifted around the edge of the courtyard, watching Lucien as he spoke.

“I looked over her charts, spoke to her doctors, but there was nothing more that I could do. Pancreatic cancer is one of the most vicious, you see. And very fast moving. By the time Rada was able to reach me, she was almost gone. Her family was devastated. And I knew that she would never accept immortality. We had discussed it many years before, but she...”

Beatrice spoke softly. “She was a friend?”

Lucien smiled wistfully. “A research assistant. For many years. And a... a dear friend, as well. She left me to go to medical school, marry, have children. It was good. It was what she wanted. But we kept in contact over the years, though her family never understood, as she did, what I truly was.”

“And she died?”

For a moment, a gleam of joy lit Lucien’s face. “No, she didn’t.”

Beatrice frowned, “But—”

“I was sitting in a cafe in Plovdiv, sipping a glass of wine and mourning her. You see, I thought that I had seen her for the last time that evening. I felt sure she would not last the next day. Her body was ravaged. Then, Lorenzo walked through the door.”

“Lorenzo?” Beatrice whispered, her fangs dropping in instinctive alarm. She could feel a brush of air soothing her shoulder, but didn’t know if it came from Ziri or Tenzin.

Lucien shook his head. “I remember thinking later that it was as if an angel appeared. Oh, I knew his reputation, of course, but you never know exactly how much of anything is true in this world. We started to chat. He was sympathetic when he heard of Rada’s illness. Who among us has not lost a multitude of human friends?”

Beatrice was willing to bet that there were no humans Lorenzo mourned, but she didn’t interrupt.

Lucien continued, “He seemed to sense that Rada was special to me. And then, he made his offer.”

A creeping suspicion took root in Beatrice’s mind. “When was this?”

“Eight months ago. October of last year.”

She whispered. “Almost a year after he took it.”

Lucien smiled bitterly. “As Tenzin informed me a few weeks ago.”

“He had the elixir.”

He nodded. “A form of it, anyway. He said that he was developing it for the pharmaceutical industry. That it was experimental, but would have miraculous effects.” Lucien shrugged. “What could it hurt? I thought. She is dying already. Practically a ghost in my arms. I took the elixir for Rada without hesitation. I gave it to her within hours of talking to Lorenzo.”

“And?”

“It was just before dawn on a Monday morning. I went to my home to rest and meditate, trying not to retain too much hope. I didn’t
really
think it would work, despite the gold I’d paid for it.” Lucien paused and brought a hand up to rest on his chin before he spoke again. “But that night, when the sun set, I still ran to the hospital. To her room, and there she was.”

Beatrice could see his red-rimmed eyes, and her heart ached.

“She had cheated death! She was still thin, but the color had returned to her face. The doctors called it a miracle. The cancer was completely gone. Her blood tests showed normal results.” He sighed and looked up at Beatrice. “I was convinced. How could I not be? It
was
a miracle. Lorenzo had developed the elixir of life.”

“Tell them,” Tenzin said gently. “Tell them the rest, Lucien.”

“I stayed at my home nearby for a few months. Rada seemed to be thriving, and I met with Lorenzo again to learn more about this medicine he had developed. He told me about Geber and the four vampires, though he did not tell me who they were. My instincts are always to be skeptical, but how could I be? I had seen the results with my own eyes. And it fit with much of what Ioan and I had theorized over the years. That blood had always been the key. The combination of elemental blood which linked to the four elements present in human blood—”

Beatrice broke in. “What do you mean? What do you mean the four elements in
human
blood?”

“Ioan and I had always speculated that there was something about human blood that fed the elemental energy in all vampires, which was why we must have it. Human blood, in a way,
contains
all four elements. The cells are made up of matter, as earth is. There is water, of course.”

“And then the oxygen it carries is the air,” she nodded. “I get those. But what about—”

“Fire?” Lucien grinned, and she saw the spark of the scientist in his eyes. “More elusive. But blood carries heat, does it not? It carries the energy of the entire human body, an energy grid of far more ancient design than the ones humans have developed.”

“So, what Lorenzo told you fit with what you and Ioan already speculated, so you bought into the elixir?”

He shrugged again. “As I said, how could I not? I had seen Rada’s results. And it wasn’t until later that he told me of its other benefits.” Lucien took a deep breath and let it out, slumping into his seat. “I cannot tell you what it felt like to hear, after
thousands
of years, that I might be free from the demands of bloodlust, Beatrice De Novo.”

“I don’t understand. Did you feel guilty? Truly? After
thousands
of years being who you are?”

Lucien smirked. “You live in a very luxurious time, my dear. A time where there is donated blood for the newborn. A time when you can carry a reserve, if you will. You never had to conquer bloodlust while feeding from an innocent. An innocent who looked you in the eye. Talk to me after a few thousand years and let me know if feeding from humanity still holds no shame for you.”

She bowed her head, humbled by Lucien’s words. Beatrice knew she was young, though she often forgot it when she was in her friends’ company. “So, you drank from Rada?” she said. “After you’d heard?”

He took a deep breath and nodded. “I discussed it with her. She was a scientist herself, after all. She offered.” Lucien’s eyes drifted away. “I kissed her, as I had so many years ago, and then I bit. It was only a few drops. She was still recovering, and... we were not as we once were.”

The vampire fell silent. His eyes seemed to glaze over, and he stared at the flowing water in complete stillness until Tenzin leaned over and touched his shoulder. “Lucien?”

He blinked and came back. His eyes narrowed on Tenzin. “How long?”

“Just a few moments this time.”

He nodded. “I finally left the city and went to my home in the mountains earlier this year. Just after Christmas. It was then that I began noticing odd things happening.”

Carwyn leaned forward. “What things?” Beatrice noticed that Ziri had come closer, as well.

“I needed to sleep. Much more than just a few hours in the afternoon as had been my custom. I thought, perhaps, it was the consequence of the lack of bloodlust. Truly, I felt none. I
still
feel none, though I try to drink. I never feel the burn in my throat, nor the ache in my belly from the lack of it. I have no hunger.”

“None?” Beatrice asked.

“None. So I decided, for lack of bloodlust, more rest is surely not so great a sacrifice. If I need no food but a bit of bread, now and again, I am willing to pay that price.”

Beatrice had a suspicion that more rest was not the only problem. “What else? It was more than just the bloodlust, wasn’t it?”

Lucien nodded. “I began losing time. I would wake in a room that I had no memory of entering. I woke once, thinking it was the next evening, to find that I had no memory of three days past.”

Carwyn gaped. “Three days?”

He nodded. “Three days had passed. I don’t know if I sleepwalked. If I simply slept? I have no memory of it at all.”

Beatrice asked, “And you live alone?”

“I had. I can no longer. I have a fear that I would simply wander out of the house and lose time, meeting the dawn without any knowledge of it. I have lived the past five months in fear, my friends.” Lucien ran a hand through his shaggy hair, pushing it off his forehead in a frustrated gesture. “I have no idea what has happened to me. I must assume that it is the result of drinking Rada’s blood, but I have no idea why. I force myself to drink now, but it is difficult. I have no taste for it, and I’m not sure my body is drawing any strength from the blood I ingest, no matter how fresh it is.”

“And it’s getting worse?” Beatrice whispered.

Lucien paused, looking around the courtyard. “Yes. And I have no idea how much worse my condition will grow. I tried to find Lorenzo when I started noticing symptoms, but I heard he was in Rome. He did not answer my letters. In truth, I did not expect him to.”

“What about Saba?” Carwyn asked. “Have you written to her?”

“I have sent a messenger to my mother, but, as you know, she is difficult to find. I do have hope that some of my sire’s own blood might heal me. But even if the messenger finds her in the mountains, it would be some time. I have no idea how fast this illness might take me. And the distance from Ethiopia to Rome—”

“Ethiopia?” Beatrice sat up straight. “Did you say—”

“It might not matter.” Ziri’s quiet voice came from the edge of the courtyard. He drifted over and stood next to Lucien, running a hand along the man’s cheek in a tender gesture. “Even if you found my old friend, dear Lucien, I don’t know if your mother’s blood would heal you.”

“Uncle...” Lucien took a deep breath. “You have knowledge of this, I think. But not knowledge that will comfort me.”