The Vampire's Seduction (40 page)

“I call on Ayizan, Maman Brigitte . . .” She rubbed the blood into my hair. My scalp twitched with power. It felt like my hair was dancing like marsh grass in a hurricane.

“I call on Ogoun Ge-Rouge,” she muttered, and painted the blood on the center of my chest. “Warrior
loa
of blood, fire, lightning, and the sword. Bringer of vengeance.”

A rush of wind followed by the loud bang of a slamming door made me jump. Suddenly, the skin she’d touched over my unbeating heart went cold. If the undead could experience death again it would feel like this. Personally, dying once had been enough for me—

“Laleeeeeeeee.” Her chant echoed off the stone walls. “The daughter of your soul asks that you protect the sons of your family. Guard and guide, fulfill your oath.” Melaphia threw her head back and wailed, “Maman Laleeeeeee.”

The sound was downright creepy; hearing it, even a vampire like me didn’t feel entirely safe. I squinted toward the altar and noticed that one of the statues had begun to drip bloody tears. Goose bumps rose on my chilled flesh and I couldn’t resist glancing at Olivia.

Bare to the waist, she’d crossed her hands over her heart—but not in fear. Her eyes were closed, but she was smiling a secret-female-conspiracy smile. One gander at her enraptured face made me feel like an outsider again. If I didn’t know better, I’d think she was praying. Even if I’d wanted to—pray, that is—I wouldn’t have remembered how after all these years of unholiness.

Melaphia stopped wailing and put her hand on my shoulder once more. “Come.” She helped me up before I even realized I needed help. Then she walked me to the corner, where a large mahogany tub had been placed. It was half full of liquid. “Bathe your head in the water,” she instructed.

Like the good boy I’d always been I kneeled in front of the basin, but then I had second thoughts. Just before I plunged my head under, I gave Melaphia a calculated grin. “I don’t suppose this is holy water, now is it?”

She pinched my ear, hard. “Since when you don’t trust me, boy?”

“Ow! Hey, the last time I trusted you I ended up locked in the vault. Olivia can go first.”

With a
tsk
of annoyance, Melaphia motioned Olivia forward and watched her lower her head into the basin.

Then it was my turn. I took a breath and dunked up to my neck. As I came up spitting water, Melaphia used her hands to scrub my hair, shoulders, and chest. The water did burn, but it was a needles-and-pins kind of burn, annoying but not dangerous. As if I could do anything about Melaphia trying to hurt me if she decided to. But the thought did give me an idea—

“One more time.”

Feeling really stupid didn’t keep me from following her directions a second time. What the hell did I know about voodoo?

A moment later I was standing and dripping in front of her. She pulled my face down, smiled, and kissed me on each cheek. “All right. Go get dressed. I’ve put out your clothes.” Then she turned her attention back to Olivia.

“Why do I have to wear this stupid jacket again? If I have to act like the lord of the manor at least let me dress like one.” This was just too much. There were more than a hundred reasons I could bring up as to why wearing blue velvet wasn’t a good fashion choice. And I wasn’t beyond using every excuse before admitting the true reasons: It was William’s jacket, the one he’d given me as protection, and the one I’d been wearing when I’d kissed Connie, what felt like centuries ago.

“It’s clean, Jack, and it’s a retro party. What’s your problem?”

“Retro or not, cheesy is cheesy.”

Melaphia gave me one of her you’re-acting-like-a-child looks. “It’s important. William wanted you to wear it.”

William.

“You’re going up against a master vampire to bring William back to us. This jacket is as strong as I can make it.”

Olivia’s entrance saved me from having to lie about who or what I was going up against. It wasn’t just her arrival, but the way she looked.

“This is so beautiful,” she said, twirling. The beaded fringe on her dress fluttered with a life of its own.

“It’s from the 1920s. It belonged to a friend of William’s.”

“Makes me feel like a girl again.” Olivia laughed. “What do you think, Jack?”

“I think I’d rather wear that dress than show up in this freakin’ coat.”

“Oh, don’t be a spoilsport. Melaphia has her reasons. You should follow her advice.”

I was about to tell her just how tired I was of advice when the front bell rang. I started for the living room, but Melaphia stopped me. “Wait.”

Deylaud touched the doorknob, then looked to Melaphia. “Vampire, not one I know.”

She moved to stand next to me, then nodded. “Open it.”

“Werm,” I said to our new guest, hardly able to believe my eyes. His hair had gone from inky black to nearly white. His skin had that pale, otherworldly glow that most of us vamps had, and he filled out his black leather a little better than the last time I’d seen his spindly self. “What are you doing here?”

“Well, hello to you, too, bro.”

He looked as fit as a fiddle and downright pleased with himself. I took a step back and invited him to come inside. “You got what you wanted. You’re a vampire. Bully for you.”

“That’s right, Jack. William did for me what you wouldn’t. I’m now a badass blood drinker. Just like you.”

Reyha giggled and covered her mouth—guess she could see actual horror on my face at being related to this weasel. “I can barely tell the two of you apart,” Olivia deadpanned.

“Very funny,” I said. “You’re like me in your dreams, you little pissant. I can still break you in half as easily as I could before. Now, I’m really not in the mood for games, so what do you want?” I used to feel sorry for the guy, but that was over. When I’d chosen to walk in darkness, I hadn’t had any idea what I was getting myself into. Werm, on the other hand, had sought out the life of a demon, knowing exactly what he would become. To hell with him.

“So this is it. William’s house,” he said, ignoring my question. He stretched his arms out expansively and looked all around. “The family home.”

“Family?” Melaphia crossed her arms and eyed Werm. “Jack, who is this skinny child? Did William really make him?”

“I’m afraid so,” I said. “Everybody, this is—what the hell is your real name again?”

Werm looked hurt. “My name is Lamar Nathan Von Werm.” He drew himself up to his full five-five. “But you can call me the Werminator.”

Unbelievable. I rolled my eyes at the ceiling. Some nights it just didn’t pay to get out of your coffin. “Call him Werm. I have no idea why William made him, but I think Reedrek had something to do with it.”

“Maybe William didn’t want you to grow up an only child, Jack,” Werm said, laughing.

I didn’t like being reminded of what I was trying not to think about. I was no longer William’s lone offspring. Until today, I’d been the only vampire William ever made in his hundreds of years of existence, or so he’d said. I’d always been William’s right hand, his enforcer, his only . . . son. Now, for whatever reason, he’d seen fit to create himself another offspring. Just in time for my own little graduation. Well, let Werm be his stooge from now on. That suited me just fine.

I reached out, grabbed Werm by his skinny neck, and raised him in the air nearly a foot off the ground. I flashed my fangs and snarled loudly, a sound so savage, so animalistic that I shocked even myself. Behind me I heard the women gasp and the dogs, even in their human forms, whine. “State your business,” I said. My vampiric eyes burned into the fledgling’s own and I could see the fear in his. About freakin’ time I got some respect. “I ain’t playin’.”

“Clothes,” he choked out. “Reedrek sent me for William’s party clothes. And I’m supposed to say that they are coming,
as you wished.
”

“Yes!” Melaphia hissed. “I knew they would be there.” I didn’t take my eyes off Werm, but I could hear her feet beating a staccato path up the stairs toward the master suite.

“Jack,” Olivia said gently. “I think you can put him down now.”

“That’s my call,” I growled. I glared at him, realizing that I really did want to kill him—to drain him of the blood that my sire had given him and take it righteously for myself. My blood thirst made my fangs throb. I’d never tasted blood of my blood, and suddenly I desperately wanted to. Reedrek had said I was a monster, a born killer. Maybe I’d denied my true nature long enough. Bon appétit, Jackie. With a roar I brought Werm’s throat to my mouth and sank my fangs into the cold flesh of his neck.

I vaguely heard screams as his blood began to flow into my mouth. I drew on whatever life force animated Werm’s brand-new vampire body and bent it to my will, making it flow from him to me. I tasted my bloodline—Reedrek, William, Lalee, myself. It was intoxicating.

Werm flailed in my grip and Olivia screamed and tried to pull me off him. The dogs were howling eerily, their canine natures responding to the feeding, the bloodletting. Olivia wedged her arms between our chests to break my hold on the fledgling.

My fangs came away from his neck messily, leaking blood on my white shirt and leaving a raw gash on Werm’s skin. I dropped Werm to the floor. Olivia caught him before he crumpled to the marble and helped him stand upright.

“Welcome to the—what did you call it when we first met? Brotherhood of the blood, was it? Well, you’re at the bottom of the bloodsucker food chain,
little brother.
”

Werm backed away, whimpering, until he was leaning against the door. Olivia put her hand on my shoulder. “Why don’t you go change your shirt?” I faced her and she massaged my shoulder a little. Her visage was serene, and I knew she was trying to calm me. I let her.

“This is Reedrek’s influence over you, Jack. His thrall doesn’t wear off easily. Take it from someone who knows. You lost control for a moment, but it’ll be all right.”

“It’s okay. I’m just mad because he wanted this. And then the little twerp had the nerve to—”

Just then Melaphia came downstairs carrying some kind of costume on a hanger. She studied Werm, who was holding his gaping wound together. It was already healing, but from the look on his face, he didn’t know that. I hadn’t sucked enough of his blood to slow down a vampire’s natural regenerative power. He’d be fine in a few hours, assuming he first didn’t die of fright from the knowledge of what he’d gotten himself into.

“I guess I don’t have to ask what all the screaming was about,” Melaphia said. I figured she would scold me, but instead she put a cautioning finger on Werm’s ruined throat. “You’re a demon now, boy. That means you’re in a whole new world of darkness. Be smart and maybe you’ll survive. Taunting a hundred-forty-year-old vampire, even one as tolerant as Jack, can get you dead real quick. If you don’t show more brains than that, you won’t live to see the winter solstice.”

“Y—yes, ma’am,” Werm rasped.

I started up the stairs, turning my back on them all, still thirsting for human blood even though I’d gorged myself earlier and had some Werm juice as a chaser. Usually I denied myself the pleasure of human blood unless I needed its rejuvenating effects to heal an injury. Biting Werm had felt good. Damn good. Was that because of Reedrek’s influence? Or was it because I’d stopped fighting my instincts?

William’s bedroom was immaculate, since he hardly ever used it except when he was entertaining women. In his cedar-lined walk-in closet I stood surrounded on all sides by expensive, custom-tailored clothing. I shucked the voodoo blue jacket and the stained dress shirt. Luckily William and I were nearly the same size. The variety of shirts was dizzying, most of them either of silk or the finest cotton. He was a little leaner than me, so I skipped past the fitted dress shirts and took down the next one I found. When I slipped it on, I discovered that it had French cuffs and tiny pleats down the front.

I lined up the cuffs and flipped open a velvet jewelry box sitting on the cabinet that was built into one wall. I saw his favorite pair of cuff links—silver, hand-forged by Paul Revere himself, and bearing the initials WCT. I worked them through the holes in the cuffs, put the jacket back on, and checked myself out. I didn’t usually miss being able to see my own reflection, but now I did. As it was, I looked down at myself in the fancy threads and smoothed the nap of the velvet, enjoying the color of the material, the blue of the deepest mountain pond.

Not bad. I tugged at the shirtsleeves so that a half inch of snow white cuff as well as the cuff links showed beyond the deep blue of the jacket sleeves. Not bad at all. Connie’s face floated through my thoughts and suddenly she seemed one step closer to being mine. I deserved to have her any way I wanted her.

I flung open the top drawer of the cabinet and sorted through the items, pocketing a monogrammed linen handkerchief and casting aside bow ties and other doodads. I saw a white silk pocket square and tucked it into the breast pocket of the jacket so that only about an inch showed, just like William wore them. I studied myself again. Maybe this jacket wasn’t so bad after all. It would bring out the blue in my eyes to impress the ladies. Yeah, this jacket was growing on me. Why hadn’t I liked it from the beginning?

I reached for William’s comb and brush, sitting beside the jewelry box, and gave my hair the once-over. Then I arranged the shirt collar against the jacket collar just so. Just like William would’ve done. You don’t practically live with a Dapper Dan for a hundred years and not learn a little something about grooming.

I stared down at my outfit again for a long moment. Here I was, looking like the lord of the manor, wearing his clothing and jewelry. Was it true what they said about clothes making the man? If so, then I
was
the man. What was the difference between William and me when you came right down to it? He had more knowledge and money. That was it. According to my grandsire, I had the chance to seize the knowledge this very night. And something told me that if I did, money would become much less important. I could finally be my own man, live on any terms I chose.

It would be easy.

I braced myself with one hand on the cabinet, the gravity of the choice I faced hitting me like a sledgehammer in the brainpan. What was I thinking? The fact that I was even tempted made me queasy. It had to be Reedrek’s thrall. To renounce William and go with Reedrek would mean giving up my family—not just William, but Melaphia, Renee, Reyha, and Deylaud. It would mean betraying the precious memories of Mel’s mother and grandmother, and the entire line of mystical women who were responsible for making me the man I’d become.