Cast in Blood (Morgan Blackstone Vampires Book 1) (30 page)

“Mon Dieu Morgan! Charles has Julian on the phone.” Christophe answered, “He’s demanding to talk to you.”
 

“Julian,” Morgan whispered, shocked, the rapier fell from her fingers and clattered on the cobblestones. The sound rang through the still courtyard like a cathedral bell. In the space between heartbeats, Morgan moved, racing faster than Nicholas had ever seen her move, pushing past Christophe into the house.

The rooms flew past, as Morgan raced through the house. She almost tipped over an antique table in the hall, as she used the wall to slingshot herself around the corner. Taking the stairs two at a time, she reached the second story. Then she paused, listening, and heard footsteps behind her: Christophe, Nicholas and Marcus. She could hear Charles in the study, trying to calm Julian. Morgan moved forward, slower this time, and within a few seconds, she stood across her desk from him.

“Grandsire,” Charles muttered into the phone, “Yes, yes she’s here,” his tone was calm and reassuring. It was one of the best things about Charles; he could be a very soothing influence when needed. He listened on the phone for a few more moments, motioning Morgan over to him and jotting two words onto the large unused, out–of–date desk calendar: Julian, madness. She pointed to the phone, and he nodded; chocolate eyes filled with sadness. Morgan swallowed hard against the feeling of dread welling up and nodded, holding out her hand for the phone. Without another word, Charles handed her the phone. She put it to her ear, as the others rushed in.

“Julian?” she asked.

“What took so long? What are you teaching those youngsters, if not proper obedience to their elders?” he snapped, and Morgan knew from the clipped rhythm of his speech that she would have to proceed with caution.

“It took a few moments for me to get to a phone, Julian. I was outside with Nicholas.”

“This close to sunrise? I taught you better than that! And with the Assassin, no less.” He scoffed like a controlling parent whose child is beginning to show the first signs of rebellion.

“I know perfectly well when the sun rises, Sire. And I trust Nicholas, add to that, he is a fine swordsman thus I deem him worthy of assisting me in keeping my skills honed,” Morgan answered, calm and collected, thanking the Goddess that her voice didn’t give away the lie.

“I don’t like the way he looks at you like you’re an interesting problem that has to be figured out,” he muttered, distant and unfocused.

“Who are you talking about, Julian?” Morgan asked, sensing a change. She had the feeling that something was very wrong, but she had no idea how to reach him.

“The Assassin?” he asked, the anger draining from his voice. He sounded like a fearful child seeking answers.

“No, I don’t think you mean Nicholas,” she muttered, trying to keep her tone level.

“The truck is coming. I can feel the tires on the road,” he whispered, voice shaking with something beyond normal fear.

“Julian?” Morgan coaxed, fighting to keep her voice calm, in spite of fear constricting her heart.

“Where did you go? I thought I saw you, but now you’re gone,” he whispered, reminding Morgan of a lost child asking for help finding his parents.

“I escaped,” Morgan answered, hoping that she sounded confident when she continued. “Go to ground Julian, they won’t find you.”

“I can’t. I have to feed. It’s the only thing that will stop the burning,” he hissed, desperate.

“Burning?”

“In my blood,” he answered.

 
Stunned, Morgan remained silent too long. She jumped a little, startled when there was a loud clatter, as the phone bounced against something solid. Cursing herself, Morgan strained to hear anything beyond the rush of wind over the line. She tapped the volume control on her phone until the speaker was at maximum, but the microphone limited what she could hear. A knot of fear settled in Morgan’s stomach, as she heard tires crunch on gravel. Large tires.
 

She glanced at Nicholas who was leaning on her desk, gripping the edge of it so tight his knuckles had turned white. She waved to catch his eyes, and tapped the note Charles had left. A deep frown creased Nicholas’s handsome features for a moment. Storm grey eyes met hers, and Morgan gave a tiny shake of her head. Nicholas nodded, reached into his jacket pocket and walked out of the room, dialing a number on his cell phone.

“You,” a voice on the phone startled Morgan, and sent a new wave of terror rolling through her. The Doctor remained silent for a few moments, chuckling, when she didn’t rise to his bait. “You will return. There’s no sense in fighting. I promise it won’t hurt as much once you surrender. The blood in your veins will burn, and only I can stop it.” His Southern drawl was smooth as satin and seductive as a viper’s. Morgan dug her nails into her palm but didn’t say a word. “Nothing? Oh well, no matter. I have Julian’s screams to keep me company. And I really should devote some
quality
time to my latest acquisition. Such a beautiful Creole doll that one is, with a sharp mind to match. It will be such a pleasure to break her to the master’s will,” he mused, and then the connection was cut.

“Marcus?” Morgan whispered, her voice sounding reedy and thin to her own ears.

“Yes?”

“What happened Morgan?” Nicholas asked, as he came back into the room.

“Is it done?” she asked him, turning to her husband.

“Lauren is seeing to it that Julian’s Will is executed. It’s the best we can do Morgan,” Nicholas sighed, crossing to stand beside her. As if he knew she was on shaky emotional ground, he slid his arm around her waist, lending her a measure of his strength.

“I know,” she whispered.

“Damn it girl!” Marcus roared, slamming his fist into the desk. Morgan jumped a little, shocked by the outburst. Marcus has been almost always cool and collected no matter the situation. He hadn’t become General in the Roman army without being able to keep it together under stress.

“That was Julian, he’s been taken by the madness,” she dropped her head into her right hand. They all knew that there was no coming back from the madness. Once a vampire gave into it, they became unpredictable, a liability, they had to be put down. “I don’t think there’s anything to be done for him.” She felt Nicholas move to stand behind her, his hands kneading her shoulders more for comfort than to release tension.
 

“What in the name of Dante’s seven Hells does that have to do with Elizabeth?”

“The doctor got on the phone after Julian dropped it.” Her voice was empty, clinical as if she were suppressing her emotions. “He said that his latest acquisition was a Creole doll with a sharp mind that he was going to enjoy breaking. We know he works on vampires, so that’s a safe assumption, then the question is how many of vampires fit that description?”

“Could be a Rogue or Nomad,” Nicholas offered.

“No. It’s her,” Marcus answered his voice bleak. “I may be retired but New Orleans is still my city and I know of no other Creole vampires who still live here.”

“It doesn’t have to mean that it’s a New Orleans–based vampire.” Christophe interjected.

“This doctor is obsessed with his quest. I don’t see him taking my escape well.” Morgan shuddered at the memory of his voice slithering through her mind. Feeling the tremor, Nicholas slid his hands down her arms and rubbed them. “He would have found a replacement as soon as they realized I was well guarded.”

“That fits the timeline for Elizabeth’s disappearance. But how do we prove it, and what do we do about it?” Nicholas asked, practical as always.

“This means we can’t sit here and wait. We have to be proactive.” Christophe ran his hand through his blonde hair.

“He’s right,” Nicholas sighed.

“Charles, Christophe, and I should all head to Los Angeles as soon as possible,” Marcus muttered, as though he was thinking more but didn’t want to say it.
 

“Do it,” Nicholas said, with a nod. “Morgan, you, and I are going deeper into hiding for a few days. It will give Marcus and the others a chance to get things settled at the club and house in L.A. It will also give you a little more time to gain what control you can over this thing.”

“Nicholas,” Morgan started to argue, but the look he leveled at her was enough to stop her. “If you think that’s best.”

“I do.”

“So be it. Where are we going?”

“I’ll handle everything,” Nicholas whispered, taking her hand in his. She glanced out of the corner of her eye and saw a hint of a wry smile curling his lips. She leaned over and kissed his cheek, wondering what he had in mind.

“Well, I’ll leave you three to discuss whatever changes you have in store for my club and home. However, I will not tolerate bars on the windows of either.” She kissed Nicholas’s cheek and started to leave.
 
“Don’t forget. We’ll need to make some arrangements for Eric. He’s going to need a strong hand for the first few months, maybe even years,” she said and walked out of the room.

M
ORGAN
WOKE
WHEN
the car Nicholas had been driving for the past day, and a half came to a stop, and the engine shut off. She hoped they were wherever he was headed; after all, they could only go west so far before they drove into the ocean.
While we could survive without air, I’m certain that the rented sedan wouldn’t fare as well.
That they’d reached their destination was a safe assumption because, so far, Nicholas had only stopped for gas and one errand he didn’t explain. She opened her eyes and stretched, feeling her muscles protest the long period without use. Outside the car’s windows, a small stone cottage was set among giant redwood trees, at the back of a clearing. A quick glance at the car’s clock told her that it was a little past seven in the evening.
 

“We’re here?” she asked, turning to Nicholas.
 

“Yes,” he whispered, exhaustion written in dark circles under his blue grey eyes and on his pale complexion.

“Let’s get you inside, and to bed. You look like you haven’t slept, or fed, in at least a month.”

“I called Ireland while you slept. Lilly should be here in about seven hours,” Nicholas answered, referring to his current blood donor. Morgan nodded, telling herself that she liked the young woman, and was glad that Nicholas had called her, but it was a lie.
 

“Good. You can see her tomorrow night. Right now you need to sleep,” she replied, knowing that he would have arranged for another place to meet Lilly
. I can’t stomach watching my husband feed from another woman, don’t care if she’s his donor or not,
Morgan thought, as she opened the car door. She stepped out and took a deep breath, filling her lungs with fresh air, tasting a hint of salt sea air, mingling with moist deadfall and living wood. Morgan stretched and yawned, feeling her muscles release and joints pop. Nicholas stayed in the car, leaning his head against the back of the seat, eyes closed. Morgan shook her head, walked to the driver’s side and opened the door.

“Come on, love. Sleeping in the car is not recommended,” she chided, while taking hold of his arm.
 

“It’s a comfortable seat,” he complained, in a low somewhat amused grumble.

“That’s what you say now, but just wait, soon there will be aches and pains, then I’ll have to hear all about it. Come on. I’m sure there’s a nice big comfy bed in the cottage,” Morgan coaxed, as she slid her arm around his torso, ready to lift him out of the car if need be. Nicholas chuckled and stepped out of the car, leaning on Morgan for support. “Are you sure you didn’t hit Marcus’s bar before we left?”

“No. Why do you ask?”

“Because last time I had to help you inside like this, the two of you had been on a seventy–two hour bender,” she laughed, as they made their way along the stone path to the cottage.
 

“We’d almost been killed by a group of Renegades. We deserved to celebrate.”

“Oh, so that’s what you didn’t tell me,” she growled, while fighting to keep him upright, and open the front door at the same time.
 

“I never told you?” Nicholas asked, with a certain lilt to his voice that told her he was unguarded. She knew she could ask him anything, and he would tell her the truth. Much as she wanted to press him for answers to the questions doing laps in her skull, Morgan couldn’t bring herself to take advantage of his vulnerability.
 

“You don’t talk about your job much, my love.”

“Don’t want to worry you,” he muttered, as Morgan let him slip to the bed.
 

“I wish you would,” she whispered, and brushed an errant swatch of auburn hair from his forehead, but Nicholas was sound asleep. “You probably didn’t even hear me, did you?” With a soft laugh, Morgan shifted him into a comfortable position, letting him sleep.
 

Feeling restless, she walked into the living room. It wasn’t what she was used to.
A little rustic for my taste, but all these little details scream Nicholas.
From the sumptuous leather couches to the river–rock–faced fireplace, and treasures that had more sentimental value than monetary, scattered about, it was clear that this cabin wasn’t a recent purchase. Morgan racked her brain, trying to recall if he’d ever spoken about a place like this, but she came up with nothing
. I have my private spaces and, apparently he does too
. Shaking her head, Morgan went out to the car and retrieved the suitcases. She put the ones with clothes in the bedroom and took her briefcase into the living room. A dark glass bottle of ‘the concoction,’ went into the stainless steel refrigerator. She settled in, plugging her iPod into the Bose stereo system, and hitting play before she curled up on the couch with the book that Joshua had given her.