Cursed (17 page)

“I wasn’t hiding them,” Greyvian replied offhandedly, taking a sip from his drink before adding, “I just never had occasion to use them around you before.”

So it was true. Greyvian had powers the others didn’t. Was it his human diet? There really couldn’t be any other reason, could there? He was the only one in existence who drank the blood of humans, and, if she wasn’t mistaken, he seemed to be the only one with super powers, so it had to be that.

Knox seemed just as baffled by it as she did. “I’ve never heard anything like this before. I mean… I’ve heard of other vampires living off human blood, but they’ve never developed any abilities from it. What makes you so different?”

“What do you mean you’ve heard of other vampires living off human blood?” Katarina asked, horrified.

Greyvian snorted loudly and rolled his eyes, again being very un-Greyvian-like, and said, “Pleeeease, they do not
live
off human blood. Every one of those cocksuckers still needs vampire blood to remain healthy. They just do it because they’re sadists and get their kicks out of scaring the human folk. Believe me—I’ve met each and every one of them.”

Hearing the word
cocksuckers
come out of Greyvian’s mouth was only slightly more surprising than the derogatory tone of voice that he used while speaking about them. What was even more surprising was the way he waved his bottle of cola about to punctuate his words.

He looked and sounded drunk. And she wasn’t the only one who noticed.

“Greyvian, you feeling okay?” Knox asked, shooting a glance her way, as if it were her fault he was acting like this. Oh, wait, Grey had just drunk a few litres of her blood. Maybe it
was
her fault. Not that she was really complaining. She kind of liked this new, open, talkative Greyvian.

“Fine. Why?” he asked, taking another sip of his drink and looking at each of them like he had no idea why they’d ask in the first place.

Before Knox could answer, Greyvian’s gaze shot over in the direction of the hallway and a small smile curved his lips. A moment later they all heard a shuffling sound as Jacob came into the room.

Perhaps they could add super hearing to the list?

“You made it,” Greyvian said by way of greeting, raising his bottle in toast.

With effort, Sienna managed to drag her gaze away from Greyvian to look over the back of the couch at her best friend. He looked a little worse for wear, but he looked a lot better than he had previously. At least now his skin had some colour to it.

Suddenly remembering that her best friend had been knocking on death’s door only a few hours ago, she jumped up and ran around the couch to give him a hug. He caught her easily and squeezed her back in kind, his arms applying just a little more pressure than she would have liked and causing her to squeak.

“Oops, sorry,” he said, easing off a bit. “I must be stronger than I used to be.”

“Yeah. I’ll bet,” Knox muttered, still miffed about Greyvian’s secrecy no doubt.

“So, what have I missed?” he asked, looking at each of them expectantly.

The last time Jacob had been fully conscious and not writhing in pain, they’d just been downstairs to get some food when Katarina had found them and she’d freaked out about seeing her brother again. Right now she didn’t seem too distraught about the whole thing and was sitting pretty comfortably in an armchair across from the male. At least, she didn’t seem to be looking at the door every five seconds waiting for her chance to escape. Come to think of it, the last time he’d seen her, she’d been unconscious, with her blood drained from her body. He guessed she’d fed since then.

Looking down into Sienna’s eyes, he raised an eyebrow, silently prompting her to tell him what had happened in the time he’d been unconscious. The last time she’d filled him in, he’d found out Greyvian killed people when he fed…

Christ. He was one of them now. Would he kill people to keep from starving?

“Well?” he asked, needing to distract himself from the direction of his thoughts.

“Um… how are you feeling?” she asked instead, telling him that something had definitely happened and it had to be big if she was avoiding the question. But, fine, whatever; he could wait.

“I’m good,” he replied, giving her a little squeeze to let her know that he wasn’t letting it go. “Real good. I feel better than I have in weeks.”

“Thirsty?” Knox asked.

He did a quick internal check and shook his head. “Not particularly.”

The blonde exchanged a look with Lucas and then jerked his head slightly in Jacob’s direction. Without a word, Lucas stood and came around the couch towards him, raising his wrist to his mouth.

Jacob lifted his hands and stepped back. “Whoa. I said I wasn’t thirsty.”

“All the more reason to do this now,” Knox replied, serious. “It’s better to feed before you feel the thirst. It allows you more control.”

He wanted to say no way, but too soon Lucas was in front of him, holding his bleeding wrist towards him and the first scent of the blood hypnotized him. His eyes locked onto the thick red liquid and his gut tightened. Suddenly he was deliriously thirsty, his mouth watering at the thought of ingesting what the male was offering.

Jacob drank. He couldn’t not do it. The sight and smell took control of something inside of him that silenced every thought in his brain and forced him to take hold of the half-breed’s wrist and bring it to his mouth. The first swallow of the thick liquid was sweet. He would have expected a bitterly metallic buzz on his tongue like he’d felt when he’d tasted his own blood in the past, but strangely there was none of that. All he got was a thick sweetness that reminded him distantly of butterscotch schnapps.

The second mouthful was even sweeter, the third, too much. Feeling suddenly queasy, he pushed the arm away and turned his head to the side with a grimace.

“Thanks, that’s more than enough,” he told Lucas, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. Looking over at Knox, he shook his head. “How the hell did you drink so much of Katarina’s blood? Any more and I think I would have puked. No offense, Lucas.”

The male smiled slightly, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

Frowning, he looked back at Knox, who also had that slightly sad look on his face. Flicking his eyes to Katarina, he found the same expression.

“What? What’s with the sad faces?” he asked, looking from one to the other. Greyvian seemed to be the only one who didn’t seem affected by the comment, but given he was the Poker Faced King, that wasn’t very informative. Although, the vampire actually looked slightly more upbeat than he’d seen him previously.

“You haven’t told him?” Katarina asked, looking in horror at Greyvian.

“Told me what?” Jacob asked, glancing at her briefly before focusing once more on the male.

Greyvian took a swig from the bottle he was nursing, and then, as if it was no big deal, painted him a bleak future. “We thought we’d wait until you transitioned to tell you. Most vampires only drink from each other. You and I are the only ones in existence who need human blood to thrive.”

“What? Why?”

His father shrugged. “A mutated gene, perhaps? Who the fuck knows? It is the way it is and there’s nothing we can do to change it.”

The fact that Greyvian had sworn was more interesting to Jacob than the knowledge that he would need to drink human blood. He’d already resigned himself to that fact so it wasn’t really that big a deal to him. Being a freak amongst vampires wasn’t even that distressing. Annoying, for sure, but nothing new to his life. He’d spent his youth not fitting in, so it wouldn’t exactly come as a shock if the rest of the vampire nation considered him an outcast.

“Anything else I should know about that you haven’t told me?” he asked dryly.

Grey smiled shortly, more a quick curve of his lips than the real deal, but it was something other than his usual Poker Face so it was a start. “It’s a long list, but we’ve got time,” he said. “You don’t need it all laid down in front of you right now.”

No, he supposed he didn’t. Now that he was a vampire, he had all the time in the world, didn’t he? It was still a hard concept to cement in his head. Sure he’d gone through that hellish transition and drunk a lot of Grey’s blood…

A sudden thought had him aiming his nose at Sienna and taking a deep breath. Nothing. Not a lick of the promised sweetness they’d all been going on about since meeting her. Looking back at Greyvian, he realised that the male looked pretty damn healthy for someone who’d just donated half his blood not so long ago. He would have needed to feed afterwards, wouldn’t he? And Sienna would have been the closest human around.

“So how close did you come to killing my best friend?” he asked Greyvian, sending a glare his way. “Did they have to stop you, or is that whole ‘killing because you can’t stop yourself’ a convenient excuse to indulge your inner psycho?”

Greyvian smiled slightly and dipped his head. “You’re smart, kid. Good. You’ll need it.”

“Knox hit him over the head with a frypan,” Sienna explained, shooting a frown Greyvian’s way before looking up at him as if it was no big deal.

“How much did he take?”

“I’m fine,” she said, shaking her head, her cheeks flushing pink as she added, “It was actually kind of... orgasmic.”

Feeling his body heat with anger, he growled, “How much?”

“Enough that I needed a donation.”

Great. Fucking perfect. His father had almost killed his best friend—and had obviously enjoyed it if Sienna had found it orgasmic—and then she had to drink vampire blood to keep from dying. Fuck this shit. He never should have told Knox where he lived. If Sienna got hurt because of him…

“Hey,” she said, smiling up at him suddenly, “you’ve got fangs.”

That stopped his train of thought cold. Raising his fingers to his mouth, he poked and prodded at the two elongated incisors and the reality of what he was finally hit home. Not the blood drinking, not the traumatic transition. Fangs. He had fangs. He was a vampire.

“Fuck. It’s really real, isn’t it?”

She nodded her head and gave him another hug for support. Hugging her back, he lowered his head and rested it against hers as he tried to come to grips with how strange the huge teeth felt inside his mouth. He couldn’t believe he hadn’t noticed them before she’d pointed them out to him. Poking one with his tongue, he winced at the sharp sting and immediately tasted his blood.

It wasn’t metallic like he’d expected—which shouldn’t have surprised him, seeing as Lucas had tasted like butterscotch schnapps—instead, it tasted like strong wine with a hint of cinnamon. Weird. Before he knew what he was doing, his head had dropped lower and his mouth had turned towards Sienna’s neck. It wasn’t until his mouth widened in preparation for a bite that he realised what he was about to do and jerked back away from her. Lucas seemed to realise his intent at the same time, the half-breed grabbing hold of Sienna and pulling her out of his arms.

“I guess we’d better go hunting,” Greyvian announced, getting to his feet and stretching his arms wide, like he’d just had a long nap and needed to readjust his muscles.

“I am not killing anyone.”

Greyvian smiled, this time showing some teeth. “We’ll see.”

11

“My Lord, forgive this interruption, but we must speak with you.”

Kobus Marcussen put down the piece of paper he had been reading, secretly thankful for the disturbance. Twenty-first-century life was filled with more paperwork than any before it. Bills, memos, new laws that required his attention; it was a never-ending stream. He longed for the days when there was no such thing as electricity, insurance, water rates and the like. Humans liked to complicate matters to such a degree that every little thing had some paperwork to go with it. He felt like shredding the whole damn pile and had to keep reminding himself that there were pros and cons to the modern world, bills simply being one of the cons. They were the price to pay for good lighting, clean running water and a toilet that flushed the filth away in an instant.

He had no love for humans, but even he had to admit that they came up with some useful things once in a while. Of course, many of the inventions could also be attributed to a vampire or two along the way. You didn’t live for centuries without having a brilliant idea or two.

Lifting his eyes, he took in the sorry sight of two of his warriors. Two hundred years old, the both of them, and they looked like teenagers after a brawl. Logan, the taller of the two, was holding his midsection and wincing with each breath; Joshua looked to be without pain but seemed shaken and sheepish at the same time. Their clothes would most likely have been torn and bloodied had they not known better than to present themselves to him in that fashion.

Shifting his eyes from one to the other, Kobus waited in silence for their explanation.

Joshua was the one to clear his throat and step forward. “Greyvian is in the city, my Lord.”

Raw emotional pain struck Kobus’s heart as the sound of his wayward son’s name seemed to ring in the air like a struck bell.

His breath caught in his throat and time seemed to still.

Greyvian. No one had uttered that name in his presence for three centuries. No one had dared.

Allowing himself a moment to bask in the agony of despair, he closed his eyes briefly and gained strength from the wound as only a warrior could. When he opened his eyes once more, he was careful to lock the emotion back where it had come from: the deepest, darkest part of his heart. “Are you certain?”

Joshua raised his head and nodded. “The male we came upon looked the part and professed it so, and his blood tasted… different, my Lord, so it must have been him.”

Greyvian was in the city. His son was nearby.

The son he had tried so hard to make well for sixteen years. The son whom he had hunted for many more afterwards. The son who carried his likeness like none other; before or since.

“Tell me exactly what happened; from beginning to end.”

The tale they told was disturbing. Had his son really wanted to die but then changed his mind, or had it all been a ploy? Some sadomasochistic indulgence to pass the time between humans? Remembering Greyvian’s state of mind when last they had crossed paths, it was highly conceivable that his son had not been thinking at all. High on human blood, there was no telling what Greyvian was capable of.

Still, the swift punishment his son had exacted whilst almost completely drained of blood sent a shot of pride through Kobus. His son may be insane, unpredictable, an abomination for drinking human blood, but at least he was a true warrior. Perhaps the stories he had heard whispered of his son were not exaggerated. Perhaps Greyvian really had defended well against the multitude of vampires who had sought to end his suffering over the past three centuries.

His pride faded as reality returned to his thoughts.

“And you say his blood tasted odd?”

Joshua shook his head once, exchanging a quick look with Logan as he said, “Not odd, my Lord. Different. Like a Tawny port, but better. I’ve never tasted anything like it before in my life.” There was a hint of desire in Joshua’s tone that caused a heavy weight to land on Kobus’s shoulders. 

It was confirmed. His son was definitely something other than Vampire. He wondered if centuries on a human diet had changed the quality of his blood, or if it had always been that way.

“Tell everyone to be on the lookout,” he said, suddenly weary. “If he’s in
this
city, then perhaps it’s for a purpose. I don’t want him anywhere near Katarina. Let me know as soon as she gets home.”

*  *  *

Jacob stepped out of the apartment building into the fresh air and was immediately assaulted with a hundred different smells, each one a thousand times stronger than they had seemed while he’d been human. He hadn’t paid any attention to the change when he’d been inside the apartment—too many things had been happening—but the difference was more than obvious now.

Following after Greyvian as he strolled off down the busy street, he wanted to ask the male if the heightened sense of smell was normal after a transition, or if it was just another one of their genetic quirks, but he wasn’t happy with Greyvian right now and didn’t trust himself talking to the guy just yet.

Hell, who was he kidding? He hadn’t been happy with the guy since the first moment they’d met. That scene he’d walked in on between Grey and Sienna, where the male had had his best friend pressed to the wall with his boner, would forever be imprinted on his corneas. Then there was the guy’s complete lack of personality, followed by the knowledge that he was a killer, and last, but not least, was the fact that the bastard had probably come pretty damn close to killing Sienna. The only redeeming factor the guy had in his favour was the fact that he had helped Jacob through his transition—although Jacob would have been happier if it had been Knox who’d fed him his blood. At least then he wouldn’t feel like he owed anything to Greyvian.

He was still unsure as to why that hadn’t been the case to begin with, but maybe it had something to do with the fact that he was the son of a vampire who needed a different type of blood to most. Maybe Greyvian’s blood was the only type that would have helped.

His thigh muscle twinged a little with each step he took, sending his thoughts back to his transition. The agony was still fresh in his mind. Nothing else on earth had ever been as painful, as gut-wrenchingly agonizing, as having his entire body switch itself over within a matter of minutes to whatever genetic transformation it needed to do for him to become a vampire. He didn’t want to admit it, but Greyvian had saved his sanity when he’d stuck his wrist against his mouth and forced his blood down Jacob’s throat. Any longer with that hideous pain and he would have been broken forever. A part of him also had the feeling that it wouldn’t have mattered because the madness would have been short lived. Any longer, and he would have more than likely died.

Deep in his own thoughts, it took him a few blocks to realise that not one person had looked at him. Not even the casual glances as they passed by that he was used to. It was eerie. If they did look in his direction, they just stared right through him as if he wasn’t there while giving him a wide berth. He wondered if anybody following behind them saw the invisible force pushing people away.

As an attractive brunette came around the corner of the building ahead, he smiled at her and tried to catch her eye, but it was no use. She passed him by like he didn’t exist.

Ouch, that hurt. He was used to being looked at, had taken it for granted that his appearance caught people’s interest, and he didn’t like the fact that he was now, for all intents and purposes, being ignored.

“How do I get people to see me?” he asked Greyvian, forgetting that he didn’t want to talk to the male.

Greyvian glanced at him and then back over his shoulder at the brunette and smiled slightly. “Just concentrate on being seen. It can be hard to maintain at first, but it will get easier.”

Jacob gave it a shot with the next person to come their way. A tall blonde female who was rather plain in appearance and not too stylish, dressed in baggy jeans and a sweatshirt—just the type of female who normally made eyes at him on any given day of the week. As she neared him, he thought about her being able to see him, but like all the others, she just passed him by.

“Am I doing something wrong?” he asked, frowning at the back of the female’s head as she continued on, oblivious.

Greyvian laughed; a husky, rusty sound that seemed like it hadn’t been used in forever. Jacob glared at him and found himself almost preferring the Poker Faced King. At least that guy didn’t laugh at him.

Greyvian didn’t apologise as his laughter faded, and when he spoke to him, there was a wide grin on his face. “You did fine, Jacob. She just didn’t look at you.”

“Oh.” Well, he supposed that was normal. Not everyone always looked his way. This would definitely take some getting used to.

“Maybe you’re not her type,” Greyvian joked.

Jacob chose to ignore that comment—and his father for that matter.

Greyvian suddenly turned down an alleyway and asked, “Could you feel the air pressure change when you concentrated?”

“Come to think of it, yeah,” Jacob replied, surprised. “Is that due to the Awareness thing? I figured it was some kind of vampire warning system.”

“Well, I suppose it does act as that also,” Greyvian replied, stepping around a trash can that was partly blocking the alley, “but mostly yes, it is the Awareness tampering that you feel. It only dissipates when we concentrate on turning it off.”

“How the hell does it work? I mean, it sounds like…” he couldn’t quite bring himself to say it.

“Magic?”

“Well, yeah.”

Greyvian smiled. “You have a problem believing in that, yet you’re perfectly fine with the existence of vampires?”

“I wouldn’t say perfectly fine,” he muttered, wondering if maybe he wasn’t going to wake up any minute and find this all some bizarre dream.

Greyvian chuckled softly but didn’t say anything more.

It wasn’t until that chuckle that Jacob finally wondered why Greyvian, who had been so Poker-faced and uptight before now, was suddenly so cheerful and seemingly carefree. Was he normally so hot and cold? Had Jacob just caught him on a bad day when they’d first met? Maybe Greyvian’s desire for Sienna’s blood was what had made him so shitty and now that he’d had more than a little taste he could finally relax.

Whatever it was, he was actually starting to warm to the guy.

Thinking of Sienna, he glanced sideways at Greyvian and figured now was probably a good time to have a heart to heart about his BFF.

“What are your intentions with Sienna?”

Greyvian came to a halt, the slight smile fading from his lips. Jacob stopped and turned to the male.

“There’s obviously chemistry between the two of you,” he went on, since Greyvian just stared straight ahead, not looking at him. “If you want to get together, that’s fine, really. Even if you do look almost exactly like me…’ Was that a hint of jealousy in his voice? Surely not. He pushed on, regardless. “But you almost killed her, and that’s NOT alright with me.”

Greyvian’s eyes flicked towards him briefly, the light grey practically glowing in the slowly dimming light as the sun went down, and that small smile curved his lips upwards once more. “Yes. I kind of got that feeling earlier.”

“So? What of it?” Jacob prompted, wishing Greyvian would look at him instead of into the distance. “Would you have killed her if Knox hadn’t stepped up to the plate and cracked you one with a frypan?”

“Most certainly, yes.”

God, he said that so calmly, like it didn’t matter one way or the other. Jacob felt his blood heat with anger. “Because you can’t control it, right?” He knew his tone was sarcastic, but he couldn’t help it. His temper seemed on a short leash around his father.

“Correct,” Greyvian replied, seemingly oblivious to Jacob’s ire as he continued to stare into the distance, his eyes glowing softly.

Was it a complete disregard for human life that caused Greyvian to seem so callous, or was it merely acceptance of a fact that he couldn’t change? Jacob’s anger slowly dwindled. He didn’t want to starve. But neither did he want to kill anyone.

How could Greyvian live with himself?

“I don’t want to kill anyone,” Jacob blurted, hating that it sounded like a plea.

This time, Greyvian looked at him properly, the soft glow fading from his eyes as he did so. It might have just been his imagination, but there seemed to be compassion in Greyvian’s expression when he said, “I understand. We’ll try not to let that happen.”

Jacob nodded, hoping he could take the male at his word.

Thrusting his hands into his jeans pockets, he looked down the alley in the direction they’d come. It was really getting dark now, but he found that he could see perfectly well; every detail of the brickwork, every scrap of rubbish littering the rutted concrete in not quite night-vision-goggle green, but pretty close to it. Frowning back at Greyvian, he opened his mouth to question the statement Knox had made in the beginning, that vampires were just like humans, but they drank blood and didn’t age or die without intervention, but what came out of his mouth was a completely different question.

“How many people have you killed?”