Blood Possession (6 page)

Napolean swallowed hard, and his heart sank into a hollow place in his chest. He had to make his father understand. He had to convince him.
I couldn’t have saved you, Father. I was too far away. It happened so fast—

Sebastian raised his hand to halt Napolean’s speech.
Do you think you were the only one who felt fear in that moment? The only one who suffered on that fateful day?

Napolean felt the breath leave his chest.
No—of course not
. “No!” He didn’t realize he had spoken aloud.

Sebastian looked up and smiled, and then his expression dimmed.
Oh son, how I have regretted your weakness in that fateful moment, mourned for the courage you did not possess. Wondered how I failed you.

Napolean staggered back.

“Milord.” Someone spoke his title.

Did I not teach you the ways of our people—the ways of a warrior?
his father continued.
After so many years—preparing at my side for combat on the battlefields—even at ten years old, your first instinct should have been to confront the enemy.

“No!” Napolean argued. “You…you wanted me to run…when it all began…you told me—”

Oh, Napolean…
The image of his father wavered, flashing in and out.
I wanted to live, son!
And then, he simply faded out of view, his voice—and disappointment—echoing through the hall like a ghost’s lament.

“
Milord
.” The voice seemed to belong to Marquis Silivasi, but Napolean could not divorce himself from the confrontation with his father long enough to tune it in.

“Wait!” Napolean shouted. He stepped forward. “
Father?
”

“Milord!” This time, Marquis Silivasi reached out and grabbed Napolean by the arm; then he just as quickly let go.

Startled, Napolean turned to face Marquis: The warrior’s face was ashen and his brow was deeply furrowed. He blinked rapidly, staring at the ancient warrior.

“Napolean?”

Ramsey stepped to Marquis’s side and reached out a steadying hand. He placed it on Napolean’s shoulder.

Napolean stepped back. “Do not!” He waved them both away. “I’m fine,” he muttered, working quickly to regain his composure. “I’m fine.” His eyes swept across the room. The hall had become deathly silent, and the realization of what he had just done—speaking aloud to the ghost of his father—was almost as distressing as the look of alarm on the faces of his warriors.

All eyes were transfixed upon him.

Except for one vampire’s…

Nachari Silivasi stared pointedly toward the back of the room, measuring the empty space where the apparition of Napolean’s father had just stood, a subtle look of wariness in his eyes.

The wizard had seen something, too.

Just what, Napolean was almost afraid to ask.

Almost.

Gods
, he hoped Nachari had not heard his father’s words, but he had to know: There was no point in avoiding the possibility.
Did you hear something, Nachari?
He spoke on a private, telepathic bandwidth, his psychic voice both stern and unyielding—an unspoken command to reply with the truth, no matter what it might be.

No.
Nachari was quick to reply—almost too quick. And although
he appeared to answer honestly, there was a slight hesitation in his voice, and his deep, forest-green eyes darkened with intensity.

Napolean sighed. He might as well face the subject head-on. “Do you wish to say something, Nachari?” He spoke loud enough for all the males to hear. If something was going to surface, it might as well come out here and now. He would rather go on the offensive than wait around to hear whether or not the youngest Silivasi had witnessed
any form
of his shame.

Nachari paused for what seemed an eternity, and then he slowly shook his head. “No, milord.” But there was an odd curiosity in the wizard’s eyes: a deeper wisdom emerging.

A question not yet answered.

Nachari might not have seen Sebastian, but he had sensed
something
.

“What’s going on, milord?” Ramsey asked, his voice heavy with concern.

Napolean shook his head and held up his hand. “It is finished,” he said, and that was that.
No one
would question him further.

Ramsey and Marquis exchanged curious glances, but neither spoke a word.

“Now then,” Napolean said, clearing his throat in an abrupt change of subject. “I would like five teams of warriors to go out into the local towns tonight in hunting parties. If the Dark Ones are bent on their murdering rampage, we will be there to meet them.” He turned to regard Kagen. “Master Healer, there is word that another human was found, the body of a woman, raped, murdered, and drained behind the corner grocery in Silverton Park. The remains were taken to the basement of the lodge for analysis and incineration. I would like to meet you there tonight—I want to see what was done for myself.”

Kagen nodded.

Napolean turned to Nachari then. “Master Wizard, you will personally attend to the family of this victim. Until we have a better option, supplanting memories is still necessary. I have shared our predicament with the high council in Romania, the fellowship of wizards, and they share your concerns. If we cannot find an adequate solution to the problem of energy imbalance, they can at least send us more Master Wizards to help until the crisis is over.”

Nachari nodded and took his seat. “As you wish.”

“Very well,” Napolean continued, eyeing the other males in the room, “if it is possible to capture a Dark One alive, then do so. However, it is our goal from this day forward to see to their ultimate extermination. If we cannot destroy the colony beneath us without significant risk to the earth or its human inhabitants, our way of life, we can at least exterminate our enemy one by one.” He turned to face Marquis, who was still standing in front of him. “Marquis, you and Ramsey see to the ongoing training of the hunting teams. You will share command of the tactical units and adjust strategy as necessary.”

Marquis nodded and turned to Ramsey. “Can you remain for a while after the meeting? I would like to go over some unfinished details.”

Ramsey agreed and reluctantly went back to his seat, his cold, calculating eyes taking full measure of Napolean one last time with a note of apprehension before he turned away.

Napolean straightened his shoulders and raised his chin. “If that is all, this meeting is adjourned.”

As if perfectly choreographed, each warrior stepped back on his left foot with military precision and placed his right hand over his heart. All eyes remained respectfully averted while Napolean left the room.

Relieved to be out of the stifling hall and done with the meeting, Napolean immediately headed for the door that led back to his manse.

What in the hell had just happened?

As he reached for the ornate iron handle, he slowly exhaled, remembering the look in Nachari Silivasi’s eyes: The male had answered him honestly, and he had shown the proper respect, but he knew how the wizard’s analytical mind worked. Nachari may not have seen or heard Sebastian clearly, but he had picked up on the errant energy, and he wouldn’t stop turning it over in his mind until he put two and two together.

Celestial gods
,
this could only mean one thing
, Napolean thought.

The image he had seen was real.

As impossible as it seemed, somehow, the father he had failed to save on that wretched day when the sons of Jadon and Jaegar had been cursed was back.

And he was deeply ashamed of Napolean’s cowardice.

Napolean hung his head in disgrace.
Dear gods
, was he really responsible for his beloved father’s death?

four

Brooke tossed her luggage in the back of the cab and joined Tiffany in the backseat, ready to head to the airport. The day had gone better than expected, and for all intents and purposes, the annual conference had been a hit.

She settled into the stiff vinyl seat and tried to get comfortable for the long ride to DIA. Their plane didn’t leave until 11:00 the next morning, so they would have to spend one more night in a hotel by the airport. But she didn’t mind so much. The view was spectacular this time of year, so many auburn, rust, and yellow leaves dotting the landscape as groves of aspen and evergreen trees lined the narrow mountain roads on the way down from the pass. The ride would be a gift of sorts, a gentle reminder of the power…and unabashed beauty…of nature, of her humble place in the whole scheme of things.

Brooke liked being reminded of the big picture.

It was easier to reconcile her past—and all the pain she had had to find a way to live with—when she chose to rise above the fray, so to speak, when she reminded herself that there was a wonder and a design to this life, a purpose that reached beyond one’s circumstance of birth.

As she looked out the cab window at the towering mountains around her, she marveled at the magnificent peaks dotted with snow and their expansive bases thick with pine. There was simply no way to doubt the power of the universe around her. She could feel it as much as see it, and the knowledge—the possibility—of such greatness gave her hope for her own life.

Sighing, she patted Tiffany on the thigh and gave her best friend a reassuring smile. “Good week in the end, huh?”

Tiffany patted her back, a gesture of camaraderie. “I think so.” And then she turned to look out her own window.

Knowing each other as long as they had, Brooke knew that Tiffany had learned to flow with her quiet, contemplative moods, to simply understand her sudden bouts of silence or introspection, and to share the space without the need to fill it with noise. All qualities Brooke appreciated immensely.

As the cab slowly made its way along the extended, curved driveway, Brooke sighed with contentment.

Napolean stood at the edge of the Dark Moon Lodge loop, waiting for several rental cars and a slow yellow cab to pass. The crystal lake shimmered in the moonlight behind him as he thought about the body of the human female he was about to view…and all that it meant for his kind: the ongoing scourge of their Dark Brothers. He was so lost in thought that he barely noticed the sky blackening above him, until the moon visibly dipped in the sky.

Instinctively, he looked up.

Indeed, the moon was dancing as it were…changing…from a brilliant halo of white to the softest dusty rose. His stomach did a strange flip, and his pulse increased as the unconscious awareness registered in his body before his mind.

The dusty rose was deepening now.

It was growing darker.
Much darker
. Into a deep, burgundy red.

Was this simply an astrological event, or was he actually viewing the start of a Blood Moon, the ancient Omen that signaled to his people—the males in the house of Jadon—the arrival of their
destinies…
the one human woman in a lifetime chosen by the gods to be a vampire’s mate?

Napolean shut out the world around him. He closed his eyes and sent all of his senses seeking outward, heightened and alert. He was the sovereign lord over the house of Jadon, the only remaining male from the time of the original Blood Curse. And as the king, he knew the lives…the very heartbeats…of every male under his command. He had taken the blood of every Fledgling, Master, Warrior, Healer, Justice, and Wizard in Dark Moon Vale, and he knew each one intimately as a result: He could feel their very DNA.

Napolean felt for the identity of the male. He tried to read the energetic imprint of the moon, yet nothing clear came to him.
Odd
, he thought, opening his eyes. He looked toward the sky. If it was indeed the Omen, then the stars would soon reveal the chosen one in the formation of a distinct constellation.

He watched in anticipation as the dark canvas began to take shape, and one by one, the brilliant stars began to weave an intricate pattern in response to the beckoning of the Celestial Gods. Twenty-eight hundred years, and the phenomenon never ceased to amaze him. Enthrall him.

And then all at once, he drew in a harsh breath, unbelieving. The hair on the back of his neck stood up, and his heart began to pound in his chest, even as his mouth went dry. It couldn’t be.