Bled & Breakfast (13 page)

I was certain he was going to storm out of the tavern, but instead Thierry sat back down and faced David. “Then explain.”

“I know you want the amulet.”

“The amulet has been destroyed. You’re not the first to tell me this, but I haven’t wanted to believe it’s true. Perhaps it is.”

“But that’s why I have this for you.” He held out the gold watch again.

A little of the impatience faded from Thierry’s eyes, replaced by a fraction of curiosity. “What is it?”

“A timewalker.”

Thierry’s eyebrows shot up. “I thought they were only legend.”

“Not true. While exceedingly rare, they do exist.”

“How do I know this is real?”

David’s lips stretched into a smile. “Because I know if I try to fool you, my life may be significantly shortened. Remember, your reputation does precede you, Thierry. This is legitimate. I guarantee it. You can use this to go back to when this precious amulet still existed and snatch it away from any other interested party. Not simple, but certainly effective, yes?”

Thierry was silent, studying the timepiece with more interest now. “How does it work?”

“Be careful, since it is very delicate. You wind it up like this, setting the numbers to the date you wish to travel. This way to go forward. This way to go back.” He demonstrated with the winding stem. The wheels and cogs in the watch moved and shimmered in a way that made it clear that this was no normal watch. “It can also be triggered remotely by magic.”

“What difficulties are associated with using such a device?”

David nodded, as if expecting the question. “For a human, it would kill them. The use of a timewalker is out of the question for their delicate bodies. For a vampire . . .” He gave Thierry a guarded look. “Well, I won’t lie to you. There is still great risk involved. I would advise you to write yourself a detailed letter and put it somewhere upon your person. Your mind will be affected; there’s no way around it. Timewalking can cause problems if one does not take precautions.”

Thierry’s gaze snapped to the man’s face. “How will my mind be affected?”

“Memory gaps, mostly. For the hours leading up to the usage as well as several hours after you arrive at your destination.”

I’d watched their conversation with my mouth hanging open, not believing my own ears.

A timewalker. Thierry was about to purchase a
timewalker
from this strange man, in order to retrieve the amulet that might have been destroyed five years prior.

And
I’d
traveled into the past to learn this.

Did that qualify for irony?

“Carefully consider your options before using this,” David said, before hesitating. “Your collection doesn’t need this amulet in it. No one’s does.”

Thierry’s jaw tightened. “Let me be the judge of that.”

“Your obsession with dangerous pieces of power will be your undoing, de Bennicoeur. Be very careful.”

“I appreciate your concern.” Thierry reached into the inner pocket of his black coat, then tossed David a small silk drawstring bag. “Even though this isn’t what we agreed upon, neither is this what you promised me. This is the payment I will offer you for the timewalker. And your silence.”

David undid the ties and glanced inside the bag, nodding. “It’s acceptable.”

“Is our business complete here?”

“It is.” David handed the timepiece to Thierry, who then tucked it inside his jacket. “It’s an interesting time to be here, Thierry. You should stay for a while and observe. Such fear these humans have, so wrapped up in their religion, with their God, that they think any shadow, any problem, any illness, can be blamed on the devil. Wouldn’t it all be so much easier if that were the truth?”

“I’ve heard what’s been happening here with the trials. It’s distasteful.”

“A little blood and death shouldn’t bother you. In fact, I’m surprised you’re not as fascinated by it all as I am. You’ve witnessed many atrocities before. Sometimes you’ve even stepped in to lend a hand—although the side you fight for seems to change with the seasons. Are you a friend or a foe this month to those who are weak and needy?” He said it with a sneer, half insult, half observation.

Thierry didn’t seem to care. He sent a gaze toward the front door when a few men entered and gathered around a table near the fire. “If I help anyone, it would be my own kind. Witches wouldn’t be my concern even if I was feeling particularly generous.”

David nodded. “Understandable. Didn’t that one witch hold you for some time, bleeding you for her own power? Nearly killed you, I’d heard.”

“She sought to increase her magic through the blood of a master vampire. Some witches do.”

“But she didn’t achieve it. You killed her, didn’t you? But you killed her husband first, while she watched, as punishment.”

My gaze shot to Thierry’s face to find it had turned to stone. Totally unreadable, even to me.

Thierry’s lips thinned. “Another rumor?”

“Perhaps. Is it true?”

“She made her choice. It was the wrong one.”

“Yes, don’t worry. I know not to upset you. I prefer to blend in and appear as harmless as possible.”

“And yet, you’re far from it. You’re one of the most powerful wizards in any of the American colonies.”

“And then some.” There was a sinister note to David’s smile.

“Then I don’t understand. Why would you allow your kind to be tortured and murdered by those who fear their abilities? Not to mention those humans only accused of witchcraft who hold no magic at all.”

David spread his hands. “It’s none of my business.”

Thierry studied him. “I would almost say that you’re enjoying this. As if it’s entertaining to you.”

“Entertaining seeing witches and innocent humans murdered?” David looked appalled for a moment before humor lit his eyes again. “Perhaps a little. But you do know that witches’ blood is almost as potent as vampire blood when it comes to black magic. Without a steady supply, I might not be able to find trinkets to please my wealthier clients such as yourself.”

Thierry’s expression soured further. “You’re helping them, aren’t you? The witch hunters.”

David laughed at this and then drained the rest of his drink. “These witches, these humans, they’re weak, Thierry. The weak must be destroyed so the strong can flourish.”

“And you’ve made some sort of deal in which you have access to these accused witches, either before or after their deaths, so you can take their blood.”

Something unpleasant flickered through David’s eyes. “Don’t you dare judge me, de Bennicoeur. Not you of all people. You’ve profited from the pain and misery of others for centuries. I don’t care if you deny it; your insatiable thirst has become legendary.”

Finally, a dark smile touched Thierry’s lips, one that chilled me. “I assure you, I have total control over my thirst. But blood is essential to the existence of any vampire.”

“Of course you’re right.” David’s words were now guarded, as if he’d suddenly realized he’d been doing business with a supernatural creature with sharp fangs and malevolent intentions. “I know you don’t wish to delay your journey back to England. Our business is done here. Farewell, Thierry.”

He put on his hat and strode out of the tavern without another word.

Thierry sat there for another moment in silence, his eyes straight forward, his shoulders rigid, his brows drawn together in a deep frown.

Then he pushed up from the table and began to follow David.

He moved so fast that I had to jog to keep up to him. “Don’t do anything crazy, scary Thierry from the past. It’s not worth it.”

His gaze was razor sharp as he scanned the street searching for the man who’d just left his company. David strolled down the road in no hurry, nodding and smiling at those he passed.

Thierry stayed twenty feet back but continued to trail after him.

“He’s a jerk,” I said. “A complete and utter bastard. But don’t do anything you’re going to regret. You said yourself that guy’s a wizard. You don’t want to mess with that.”

Thierry swiftly stalked after David until the man turned a corner near a river that looked like a shimmering ribbon of darkness under the evening sky.

“David,” he said.

David’s shoulders froze and he turned. His eyes had shifted to that familiar witchy red and I felt the crackle of energy charge the air.

Uh-oh.

“You mean to bite me, de Bennicoeur? To drain my blood?”

“No, of course not. I’d never bite you,” Thierry said, offering a smile. “I regret how we left things in the tavern and I wanted to tell you that before we part ways.”

David’s tension eased a fraction. “Well, that is good to hear. I know many might hold my recent decisions against me, but I’ve always known we were two of a kind—survivors in this harsh, unforgiving world.”

“Two of a kind indeed.” Thierry drew closer. “I have been pondering the deal you’ve made with the local hunters to acquire the blood of dead witches . . .”

“Oh? What about it?”

Thierry reached forward, his movement nearly too fast to see. He grabbed David’s head between his hands and twisted sharply. I heard a crack and David crumpled to the ground.

Thierry looked down at the wizard’s dead body. “I don’t approve.”

I
clamped my hand over my mouth to hold back my scream.

Thierry turned his face away from the body with a hiss. His eyes had turned black with hunger. David had hit his head on a sharp rock when he fell to the ground. Blood now trickled down his temple.

“Don’t even think about it, Thierry.” My shock at witnessing th
e murder had swiftly turned to fear.

Dead blood, even
freshly
dead blood, was like poison to a vampire. It was like some sort of magical trap for a vampire, since the blood of a dead person was still red, still fresh, still tempting.

But potentially deadly.

He turned away, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. He began to move away from David’s body with long, determined strides.

I kept pace. “Good. I approve. Well, not of the cold-blooded murder, but still. Good for you for walking away from temptation.”

His lips drew back from his straight white teeth until I saw the sharp tips of his fangs. He scanned the road near the tavern, near the meeting hall. Finally his predatory, black-eyed gaze fell upon a woman in an indigo blue dress. She was walking unchaperoned after leaving the company of her friends.

Thierry began to trail after her.

I picked up speed. “Oh, no, you don’t. Don’t even think about it!”

Of course, he couldn’t hear me.

He was in the middle of a sudden and overwhelming wave of bloodlust—the same kind of bloodlust Owen now had to deal with and that present-day ghost Thierry was free from. This wasn’t present-day Thierry. This was scary-vampire Thierry and he needed to feed. And this unlucky young woman, whoever she was, was going to be playing the part of victim number two in this evening’s program.

I grabbed for Thierry’s arm, but my hands slipped right through him and turned to smoke for a horrifying moment. I swore under my breath. I didn’t care if I was no better than a ghost at the moment; I couldn’t let this happen.

It was one thing to hear about the horrible things Thierry had been responsible for, the murders aboard the ship that brought him here. But for me to witness him kill a helpless girl with my own eyes . . .

I honestly didn’t think I’d be able to look at him the same way again.

He hadn’t wanted me to see any of this. I now realized he did that to protect me—to protect how I cared about him. And yes, admittedly, perhaps I had put him on a bit of a golden pedestal in my mind—which he was currently attempting to knock himself off of.

But I was here; there was no turning back. And there
had
to be a way for me to stop this from happening.

I scanned the street looking for inspiration until my gaze fell on another woman. Dark hair, dark eyes. She read a Bible while seated on a lantern-lit bench in front of the church.

Without thinking, I moved directly toward her.

I might not be dead, but I
was
currently doing an excellent impression of a wandering spirit. That gave me only one option I could think of to use.

“Here goes nothing,” I said under my breath. As the woman got up, tucked her Bible under her arm, and moved forward, I remained standing right in her path, bracing myself with my hands on my thighs like a sumo wrestler. Instead of her walking through me, I walked into her. Headfirst.

She shivered as we met, as if she’d just strolled into a freezer.

And then, suddenly, I was looking out of her eyes.

“Awesome,” I said now in the voice of someone else. I could already feel a pressure building. Sort of like in an airplane when it’s descending. If my ears popped, so would everything else. I’d pop right out of this body like a half-cooked Eggo.

I worked the borrowed legs, the skirt flapping and threatening to tangle me up. I never wore long skirts except for the odd time I was in somebody’s wedding and didn’t have a choice of bridesmaid outfit.

I’d never dressed like a Puritan before. Actually, scratch that. In college I’d dressed up like a Pilgrim for Halloween. A sexy one with a high slit in my black skirt, a red garter, a plunging neckline, sky-high buckled patent leather heels—and a plush turkey for good measure.

This
was a bit different.

I was literally running by the time I spotted Thierry again. He followed the girl down a dark road lit by the full moon. She appeared utterly unaware of who was ominously trailing after her.

As she left the road, he followed. And I followed, my steps quickening to a full-out sprint when I heard a shriek.

He now had her by an oak tree, pressed up against its thick trunk with his hand to her throat.

I didn’t hesitate to yell: “Hey!”

I threw the Bible directly at his head, and it successfully knocked his hat right off. A tad sacrilegious to use it as a weapon, I’ll admit, but surprisingly effective.

He turned with a snarl to send a chillingly dark look at me.

I chose to ignore the immediate fear that raced through me, since it really wasn’t helpful right now.

“Don’t do it!” I forced as much conviction into my voice as I could manage. “Don’t you dare even think about it!”

“Leave me in peace, woman,” he snarled.

“Help me,” the girl gasped. “He’s a demon. He’s a monster from Hell who will destroy all of us.”

My borrowed heart hammered against my borrowed rib cage. “Well . . . no, he’s not. But he
is
acting like an ass right now.”

He glanced over his shoulder at me and raised an eyebrow. “An ass.”

“A huge one,” I confirmed.

“His eyes . . . ,” the girl managed. “They’re black as pitch. He’s been sent by Satan to devour our souls.”

I blinked. “Actually, he just wants your blood. But the soul thing does sound a bit more impressive, doesn’t it?”

Thierry’s darkly curious gaze didn’t leave mine—it pinned me. Even three hundred years in the past I could still be effortlessly held in place by those eyes of his. “Who are you, woman?”

Dangerous question. “Consider me your guardian angel.”

“My guardian angel?” His lips curved into an unpleasant smile. “It seems to me that you’re attempting to be
hers
.”

A moment later, he released the girl.

“Run,” he suggested.

She didn’t hesitate. She sped off into the night without a backward glance.

Thierry was in front of me a split second later. He took hold of the front of my borrowed dress and pulled me back toward the oak tree as if I weighed nothing more than a Puritan Chihuahua.

That fear I’d been trying to ignore came back in spades.

“So kind of you to take the place of your friend,” he growled.

“Not my friend. Never even met her before.”

“Then perhaps the word I should use is ‘foolish.’”

That would certainly be one word to describe my recent decisions.

Still, I stared up into his face, half-freaked-out, half-fascinated. I reached up to touch the line of his jaw.

He watched me warily, frowning now, but he didn’t swat my hand away. “I think you must be a bit mad to be so bold.”

“I am mad. Furious, actually.”

“You don’t fear me.”

“I fear you. Oh, absolutely, Thierry. I fear the hell out of you right now.”

His dark brows knitted closer together. “How do you know my name? Tell me who you are.” His eyes hadn’t shifted to any color but black. I’d put this woman’s body in danger by approaching him in order to save another girl. I hated to think I might endanger this one in exchange. I’d never forgive myself for that.

Now I was faced with the problem presented in time travel movies. How was I supposed to tell him anything that might help? Didn’t that mess with the whole past/future time paradox, or whatever it was called?

However, since Thierry was the one who said I couldn’t lie to him, and time was of the essence here, I quickly opted for the truth.

“I’m from the future,” I said evenly. “I needed to stop you from hurting that girl. You can’t hurt anyone else, Thierry.”

He cocked his head, perplexed. “The future.”

“Yes. I know you in the future. More than three hundred years from now. You’re not a killer. You’re wonderful, actually. At least,
I
think so.”

A long, silent moment went by before he began to laugh. The sound coursed pleasantly through me—another reminder that this guy might be half his age and seriously troubled, but he was still
my
Thierry. And I could still make him laugh.

Even though at the moment I wasn’t exactly
trying
to.

“Amusing,” he said. “
Wonderful
, am I? And I live for three more centuries; is this so?”

“You do.”

His smile fell. “You expect me to believe such nonsense? There’s only one thing right now that I do believe.”

“What?”

“Your blood is something I need.” He came closer, sweeping the pieces of dark hair that had escaped this woman’s kerchief away from her throat. I felt his breath, hot on my skin as he pressed me against the tree.

“You’ve amused me,” he whispered in my ear. “I won’t take your life, only a taste of it.”

“You’re sure you’ll be able to stop in time?” I drew in a ragged breath as his lips brushed against my throat—the sexy preshow before the scary movie began. “I know you hate that you can’t control this . . .”

He pulled back from me, his expression quizzical. “It’s like you
do
know me.”

“I do.”

Uncertainty slid across his face. “It’s impossible.”

I started talking. Quickly. “You were sired by Veronique during the plague. You married her shortly after, but you were never happy with her. You might have been somehow dependent on her in the beginning, maybe you even thought you loved her—I mean, she does look like a Victoria’s Secret model”—not that I needed that particular reminder right now—“but there’s nothing between you deeper than a shared history. She’s vain, selfish, thoughtless. She cheats on you all the time. She doesn’t care what you do or who you do it with.”

He stared at me as if my words shocked him before he tempered his reaction with skepticism. “Many know of Veronique’s reputation.”

“Even some random human girl in Salem?”

His gaze moved over my face, my throat, before returning to my eyes. “Perhaps you’re a powerful witch—one who can see into my mind to pick out words to use against me.”

“Look at me, Thierry. I know you don’t know me right now. I know I’m in the wrong body. I know this is the wrong year, wrong century. But you have to see that there’s something in my eyes. Something you recognize. Something that time can’t steal from us.”

The blackness in his eyes began to fade back to his regular stormy gray.

He shook his head. “I don’t know you.”

“Yes, you do,” I insisted. “You know me. And you know I love you more than anyone else in the whole wide world.”

“Love?” He whispered the word, his brow furrowing.

I knew I had to keep talking. The original owner of this body was fighting hard to launch me out of it. The pressure built like a teakettle about to start whistling. If this was what real possession was like, then it was proof that something truly unnatural had happened with Owen. “That man you met with—the one you killed. I don’t know how, but he’s somehow involved with your disappearance. It happens tonight. You vanish for fifty years.”

Yeah, I was breaking the time travel rules big time now, but I couldn’t stop myself from warning him. I’d deal with the ramifications later.

“Despite the madness of your words, I can’t deny that there’s something about you . . .” He studied my face, as if trying to memorize it. “Perhaps
I’m
the one going mad tonight.”

I was getting through to him. I knew I could do this! “You told me that I wouldn’t like what I saw if I witnessed your past. But see? I can handle it. What I see is a man who’s lost his way, who chases after treasures to fill his empty days. One who’s lived long enough that there’s nobody he trusts anymore. But you can trust me. And I trust that you can control this thirst, even when it feels like it’s going to overwhelm you.”

“Your words are so sweet, every bit as sweet as you are.” He studied my face, brushing his fingertips across my cheek. “But you’re wrong.”

I froze. “What?”

“There will never be any control for me.”

His eyes shifted back to black, and then he pressed my head to the side. I felt the bite of his sharp fangs as they sank into my borrowed flesh—total déjà-vu to what had happened with Owen. And it stung just as much as it would in my own body. I grabbed his arms, but there was no chance for me to fight him. He was way too strong.

I barely had a chance to panic when he let go of me with a gasp and staggered back a few feet.

My hand flew to my neck to press against the wound. “Okay, so maybe I was wrong. You don’t have any control. Like, zero.
So
not impressed right now!”

Seriously, I should have saved my breath. He’d just shown me definitively that I was like a wounded goat trying to bargain with a hungry lion. I’d go with the good old-fashioned knee to groin if he came near me again—as any wounded goat should. Even lions—or master vampires—were affected by that handy self-defense move.

I watched him cautiously when he didn’t come any closer. “Not that I’m complaining, but why did you stop?”

There was a strange glow coming from his chest. He reached into his inner jacket pocket and pulled out the timewalker, but it was barely recognizable anymore. It now resembled a piece of bright light.

He swore under his breath. “David said it could be triggered remotely with magic. He must have done this before I—”

“Before you snapped his neck like a Thanksgiving turkey,” I finished for him.

His gaze shot to mine. “What does this mean?”

My heart was pounding right out of my chest. This is what happened! It had to be. “It means that you’re going on a little trip. And you’re not going to remember anything about it.”

“A trip where?”

“Fifty years into the future.”

He looked at me, stunned.

I gave him a frustrated glare in return. “I mean, you just bought a timewalker from an evil wizard. What do you think it’s going to do? Give you a bikini wax?”