Cast in Blood (Morgan Blackstone Vampires Book 1) (42 page)

“I don’t know what else to do. Short of relocating to New Orleans, until he’s able to be away from his native soil for longer than just a few hours, before it starts to drain him.”

“You and I both know that’s not the best solution.” Nicholas shook his head and sat on the chair at Morgan’s vanity.

“I never said it was the best. It’s what we’ve got.” She propped her foot on the edge of the bed and smoothed one stocking over her leg, fastening it to the garter belt before repeating the process with the other leg.

“What about Joshua?” Nicholas started fastening his cufflinks. “Was he able to get in touch with Richard about those walls?”

“Yeah. Apparently Richard was intrigued, but not worried. He said that in the beginning things like that may happen, so until I can control it, I should try to avoid conflict.”

“That would explain why Jackson reported you were spending less time at The Dracul a few weeks into my visit with the Council.”

“You have your Enforcers watching me?” She stepped into her shoes, tossing a defiant look over her shoulder at him.

“Not just you love.” Nicholas held up his hands as if in surrender. “Jackson included the information as part of his monthly reporting. He thought it was strange that you seemed to have walked away from The Dracul and all the work you’ve put into the place.”

“Vampire–run business. Council and Enforcers watch it,” she muttered under her breath. “Why wasn’t it reported when I went missing?”

“From what Michael told me, Lucian had been asking questions about Enforcer reporting protocol just before you disappeared.” He watched, as she dropped the silk robe and slipped into her black velvet evening gown.

“What was my Grandsire asking Michael about?”

She walked over to him and lifted her hair, presenting her back to Nicholas. He smiled, and let his fingers linger on the exposed flesh near her spine, as he slid her zipper into place.
 

“He wanted to know more about what’s reported at vampire–run businesses, and how often reports are made,” Nicholas answered.

“He was making sure the timing was right.” Morgan frowned.

“Yes, he was.”

“How soon after the last report was I taken?” Morgan walked over to her vanity and started putting on her earrings.

“The night Jackson made it.” Nicholas fastened his watch on his wrist.

“Do you suspect he had anything to do with what happened?” Morgan fastened a ruby and diamond choker at the back of her throat.
 

“Jackson?” Nicholas shook his head and chuckled. “No, I think he’s got a little crush on you, but no, he didn’t help Lucian.”

“Lucian counted on the time he thought he had between the reports and my disappearance.”

“The way I figure, he was trying to buy as much time as possible before officially reporting your absence. I know that Charles and Christophe would have said something to me in time, but it’s possible that I might not have known until the next report,” Nicholas explained, as he walked over to Morgan.

“Which was just a week or so ago,” Morgan whispered, as a shudder ran through her.

“Don’t dwell on that,” he admonished, and kissed the curve of her neck where it met the shoulder. “We’ve got a system now.”

“Why didn’t we do it sooner?”

“Because you’re a big girl and can take care of yourself,” Nicholas said, as he handed Morgan his bow tie, and tilted his head back to give her more room to work. She made quick work of the tie, finishing with a gentle kiss.
 

“Some job I did a few months ago.” She rolled her eyes and shook her head.

He caught her hand in his, not letting her walk away. “Azreal counted on the shock value of Alexander’s appearance. Or Lucian did. We don’t know who let him out. All we know is that his crypt was opened; he was brought out, and then it was sealed again.” Nicholas sighed and slipped on his overcoat. “Michael and I checked it out. The casket was still in there, and the wall had been built back up over the crypt door. On the outside, it looked as if no one had opened it for centuries.”

“What are we missing?” Morgan bit her lower lip and frowned.

“I don’t know.” He helped her into her coat before grabbing his keys. “I don’t suppose I could convince you relocate to Ireland for a while.”

“You know I can’t do that. If I leave Los Angeles, it’s to go to New Orleans,” she sighed. “With Marcus’s issues, the kid may need a mentor, unless we want to risk his breaking with the Dynasty.”

“You’re planning to mentor him, even with the sorcery thing?” Together they walked through the kitchen and into the garage.
 

“Can this wait until tomorrow night?” she asked, when he opened the passenger door for her.

“I don’t see why not.” Nicholas helped her into the car.

“Good, because I don’t want to spend your first night back just talking shop,” she said.

“I plan to do much more than talk shop, love. Much, much, more.” He kissed the back of her hand, before he closed the door and walked around to the driver’s side.

The sea of humans flowed around him, a writhing, undulating mass of so–called fashionable nouveau riche bodies that parted when they came within a few feet of where Lucian stood, watching. He smiled; it took so little effort to maintain the aura that made them avoid coming close to him. He knew that the humans would feel a subtle shift in temperature, a nauseating scent would roll over them, and if they got too close they’d be overcome by a feeling of menace, as if something evil haunted their steps. Lucian smiled, as a silver sedan pulled up to the valet, this was what he was waiting for, whom he needed to see. Now that the initial shock of Nicholai’s
little
announcement
had worn off, he needed to figure out how to best leverage the information. At the curb, a valet opened the passenger door, and Morgan stepped out of the car. She stood on the sidewalk, waiting for Nicholai, her eyes scanning the area. They swept the crowd, pausing where he stood. She frowned, eyes narrowing, but Nicholai stepped up beside her and whispered something. Morgan shook her head; her gaze not moving, but not seeing Lucian either. A moment later, Nicholai looked his way. Lucian stood his ground. In all his centuries of study, he had never used sorcery on other vampires before. His cheeks were beginning to ache, with the effort of keeping a neutral smile on his face. It felt like an eternity, waiting, as Nicholai offered Morgan his arm. Lucian let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding, when Morgan shook her head, said something to Nicholai, and the pair of them started walking toward the theater.
 

Two hours later, Lucian sat in a private box across from the one Morgan and Nicholai occupied. He had missed the entire first act; his attention focused on the couple across from him. He moved the opera glasses from his eyes, set them on the railing and leaned back in his seat.
 

Nicholai watched the spectacle on stage.
 

Morgan watched Nicholai.
 

Lucian watched them both.
 

“Who would have thought that Nicholai would be the key?” He watched, as the pair drew apart, and though they were only talking, their body language was that of lovers. He turned to look at the human woman seated on his right. “How have I missed it?” Lucian asked. A single tear slipped down the woman’s cheek. “All these centuries, I believed that they were nothing more than close friends. She married Nicholai," his hand stopped near the woman’s knee, “clearly it is not merely a marriage of convenience. Yes, I believe I can work with this.”
 

As the lights flickered, marking an end to the intermission, Lucian stood and turned his back to the stage.
 

With Nicholai in the game, this is going to require careful planning and timing
. Beside him the woman whimpered, but Lucian’s will held her in place, compelling her silence. Bloodless corpses occupied three of the six seats in the private box. The deaths had not been necessary. He could have clouded the human’s minds, and made it so that they didn’t remember him. That was the old way. The way The Council had wanted things done. The time for a change was drawing near. He held out his hand to the woman in the seat next to his. She sat with the corpse of her husband leaning against her. “Come. I have learned all I can from this little endeavor.” Lucian could feel her fighting the compulsion. She’d come close to breaking it several times during the evening.

“I have plans for you, before the dawn.” She put her hand in his and followed Lucian out of the theater into the night.

M
ORGAN
B
LACKSTONE
AND
her family return in

On July 7
th
2015.
 

Enjoy this sneak peek at their latest adventure.

M
ORGAN
B
LACKSTONE
WOKE
in an instant. Clawing her way to full awareness through a cocoon of razor sharp gossamer strands that ripped into her flesh. Each cut a memory, a flash from her interrupted nightmare. She dragged an unnecessary breath into her lungs as Alexander's skeletal face appeared in her mind. Taut flesh over sharp-edged bones, fissures filling with sluggish black-red blood as a cold smile curled his lips.
 

“Alexander is dead,” she told herself while running a hand across her brow continuing the in and out of normal human breathing. The image dissolved into a shimmering mist. Morgan blinked a few times letting her eyes adjust to the dimly lit room.
 

“What in the bloody Nine Hells was that?” she whispered feeling the numbness as it spread through her limbs. Morgan shivered, rubbing her arms to fight off a cold she felt but knew wasn’t real.
 

In her mind, she was back in The Dracul’s parking lot, her sword cane in hand. She twisted the handle and pulled, but the blade caught and wouldn’t come free. Pain and pressure ripped through her throat. Her sword slid from her fingers, and she reached up to pull the syringe from her neck.
 

The thing was an antique; the plunger had been depressed and a drop of crimson clung to the tip of the needle. Liquid numbness slithered through her veins. Her thought processes slowed. Darkness hovered around the edges of her vision narrowing her focus down to The Dracul’s employee entrance. If she could get inside, she could bar the door and, with a little luck, be safe until either the drugs wore off, or dawn came.
 

“Why do you fight?” Azreal stepped in front of her, his visage morphed, twisting and stretching until it became something out of a horror movie. The long beak-like hooked nose filled her line of sight. Red eyes stared at her, boring through the drug induced fog. Alexander’s vice-like hands gripped her arms with his fingers, digging into her flesh.
 

Morgan screamed and flung herself out of bed. She started pacing, feeling trapped in the room, the blackout drapes seeming to taunt her. Unlike so many of her long years, the sun held her hostage. In the back of her mind, she heard the words that Azreal spoke before her world went dark and changed forever.
 

Taking a deep breath, she checked her clock, confirming what she already knew. The date read July 9, 2012, three years to the day since her world had been turned upside down for the second time in a little over 1700 years walking the earth.

Three years? It feels like yesterday,
she thought, putting her feet on the cool floor.
 

Every year the nightmare came.
 

The first year she'd been caught unaware.
 

When the second year arrived, she tried not sleeping. Eventually, exhaustion hooked its claws in and dragged her down.
 

This morning, the third year, she’d taken far too many of the powerful narcotics, and they hadn't been enough. Demons had slithered through her mind, poisoning her rest.

Pacing the width of the master bedroom didn’t help. Nothing was out of place. She scowled at the closed black out blinds, wanting nothing more than to feel the warmth of the sun on her face, to allow it to burn away the last remnants of the dream. Instead, she stood shivering against a cold that sank deep into her core.