The Blood Bride (Blood Secrets) (16 page)

They would make another move soon. He could feel it in his bones. If it was Estersham, then he would be cunning, just as he had always been—a brilliant strategist. Xavier just hoped the bloodlust had taken the edge off that inventive mind of his.

He allowed himself to recall his strongest memories of Estersham. The Estersham of his experience had treasured grace and culture. He had been a man given to deep thinking, and with a thoughtful nature, but all of that had been shattered when he had succumbed to the imperatives of the virus and the taint of the blood drop. It had wiped out his ability to be human and humane—it had left little more than an animal behind. A brilliant animal, Xavier conceded, capable of thought and cunning, but still one who accepted the will of his primal urges.

The struggle was one all vampires faced. The dark hunger they lived with on a nightly basis once they had changed at a cellular level. It forced them to seek sustenance in the form of blood. For centuries they had been little more than ravenous animals, though over time they had come to realise that it was the action of taking blood from the source, especially through to the last drop, what they called ‘the death drop’, that pushed them to need more. Increasing the hunger until it finally overwhelmed and stripped away any sense of humanity they struggled to retain.

This was why they now lived in nests, with donors who willingly gave their blood, which was carefully decanted into blooded wines. Never would any nest-based vampire take the death drop. Once that was ingested, then the barriers they each erected over many years deteriorated. Each final, ecstasy-laden drop stripped from them another link of civility that kept them from being little more than animals.

Most newly turned, though, retained enough humanity and morality to be able to survive the call for some time, so long as they remained satiated. It was only as they grew older, required less sustenance, that the danger really showed itself. He closed his eyes, willing the chilling thoughts away.

A knock on the door interrupted his attempt to refocus. “Come.” He knew who it was before the door even opened. James.

“James, please come and be seated.” He directed James to the chair opposite his desk.

The man strode forward. As always, he was immaculate. But for the first time Xavier could detect a coolness in his manner.

“Master, I am concerned that Cressida has somehow confused the situation. Hope is nothing more than my daughter. As such, I feel it would be inappropriate for her to remain in the secured living quarters. Her room can be made ready immediately, and she can be returned to her family.” The words were curt and short.

The lack of concern that James exhibited about Hope’s safety concerned him. Surely, he would want her to remain in the secured living zone while there was any hint of danger? It was obvious he doubted the threat was real… Either that, or he just didn’t care.

Xavier watched silently as James spied Hope, noting the way her slender shoulders tensed. She continued working on the computer. He could hear the increased rhythm of her heartbeat, leaving him angry and edgy.
 

James opened his mouth, as if he was about to say something to her, and the hot thread of anger that had welled within him at James’ outburst, grew hotter. Xavier knew she would not defend herself once he started. She would accept the castigation James would throw at her, as if she deserved it.
 

She was upset, he knew. The scent of her anguish filled the air, astringent and biting. And he didn’t like it.

Not. One. Bit.

“James. I have discussed this with Cressida and the members of the Council. Hope remains with me, until the threat is past.” He delivered the words in a calm and reasonable voice, despite wanting to bellow them. His anger raged, but he fought for control. Mastered the emotions and seethed silently. The constraints of his position rode him hard.

James opened his mouth, obviously to rebut the statement, and Xavier’s fury grew once more. Before he could think, he’d leant forward, placing both hands on the desk. He watched with satisfaction as James took an instinctive step backward.

“I have said all there is to be said. If you have a problem with my ability to lead the nest, then you will need to take it up with Cressida personally. However, I have her support on this. Understand me well… Cressida is seriously displeased with your inability to follow her instructions, and, I would assure you, I am also not impressed.”

The man flinched slightly, and Xavier felt a small kick of triumph. “For now you are excused. But…” The words hung in the air between them, and James was white with anger, the lines deepening around his tightly clamped mouth, the barely controlled shaking of rage mingling with fear, the scent filling the air. “You will never again correct me. I am the Master here. Oh, yes. And I will not allow anyone to harangue Hope either. If I get even the slightest whiff of that, I will show you how I deal with recalcitrant nestlings.” He paused for a second. Waited. Made him sweat and shake. He saw James’ nervous eye movements, trickles of sweat dripping down his white face which meant he was considering just what discipline might be enacted. “You may go.”

James backed away from the desk.

He caught the flash of hatred in the eyes of the man he had just dressed down. Xavier understood his reaction. He had, after all, just been humiliated in front of his daughter. The woman he treated lower than dirt, and that didn’t bode well for Hope, leaving him feeling worried about an undefined retaliation. The man left the room and Javed moved in, closing the door quietly behind him, while Xavier considered options and plans.

“Xavier, do you think that was wise?”

“Perhaps not, but I had to make those points. Now, in future, I want you to liaise between James and myself. He was, shall we say, annoyed with me, and I was probably a bit more…forceful than I should have been.” He grinned slightly and looked at his friend, before letting the bravado leach away. “I think we need to let the situation settle somewhat now.” He stood, pushing back the seat and scanning the room silently. “Hope? It is time to head to the offices downtown. Grab your bag and meet me at the door.”

He watched while she rose unsteadily, only a silent jerk acknowledging his request, and he felt suddenly angered that she had witnessed the scene. It was wrong, and he’d given in to an urge, best restrained in future, he reflected. “Hope?”

She didn’t turn towards him, instead keeping her head low as she answered, “I’m fine. Just give me a moment and I’ll be ready.” She scuttled out of the room, and he watched her go.

“Javed, follow her, but don’t interfere unless she is waylaid.” The disquiet he felt rose inside him. He watched Javed move quickly and quietly, as if he too expected something to happen.

Something about the relationship between James and Hope was wrong, he acknowledged again. He needed to know more, but right now he had bigger issues to deal with, ones that required his full attention. Xavier reached out a hand and lifted the receiver to demand a driver.

She hurried out of the room, not caring where she was going. Anything was preferable right now to him seeing her cry.

Hope felt the harsh grab and pull of him catching her arm. She whipped around while he dragged her to the corner of the corridor close by the secured doorway.

One look into his cold blue eyes and fear filled her.

“What did you say to him?” His voice sounded both remote and filled with hatred. Hope shuddered as a trickle of cold dread snaked down her spine.

“Father? I didn’t say anything. Cressida told him that I am a blood siren and that I need to be kept safe.”

His grip bit into her tender flesh, and she had to fight to hold down a cry of pain, even as she pulled away. Her heart pounded.

“You slept with him, didn’t you? You’re just like we were told. A slut. You disgust me.” The words wounded her like a dagger to the chest, stripping away his civilised demeanour.

“Father? I haven’t done anything wrong. I am not bringing the house into disrepute. I am doing what Cressida—” She entreated him, but it seemed to only inflame the situation further.

 
James growled. “Garbage! You don’t deserve to hold the name of my daughter. They were right all along. Bad blood always tells!” James flung her from him and she flew across the room, hitting the wall with an elbow, the immediate pain stunning her, and she slid to the floor.

Quick steps hurried down the hall then Javed was there, helping her up. Her head spun and her arm ached, while her vision blurred at the hot burning tears welling in her eyes.

“You will never touch Hope again. Do so, and you will find Xavier will, at the least, expel you from the nest, if he doesn’t choose something more…final.” The same careful touch continued, helping to steady Hope as it steered her towards the door, and the buzz of the electric locking system. In the dimness of the stairwell, dizziness hit, spinning around her, causing her to miss the steps. A sensation of being lifted and carried up the steps intruded dimly. She barely noticed Javed calling Xavier as he set her on the chair. The intercom system pinged while she huddled miserably on the chair, but she paid it no attention, lost in a world of misery.

Hope roused when Xavier laid a gentle hand on her moments later. She registered the shaking touch, and she ached to relieve his concern. “I’m fine, Xavier.” She said the words, but knew they were untrue.

“I never thought he would do this. How could he?” Soft touches soothed her, brushing away the dishevelled hair from her hot forehead, before moving softly through her hair to check the back of her head. He gently probed, finding the spot that ached the most.

“Oww. That hurts.” More tears escaped from between tightly clenched lids, and dripped down her face while she sniffled miserably.

“I’ll be okay. Just give me a few minutes.” She scrubbed her hands over her face, before silently hunting in her pants pocket for a tissue, coming up empty.

A wet cloth was pressed into her grasp, and she grabbed it, welcoming the soothing coolness with a hiccupping sigh.

“Xavier, I am sorry. I didn’t expect this, otherwise I would have protected her.” Hope heard the anger in Javed’s voice, but couldn’t rouse herself right now, so she let the conversation swirl around her. Seeking blessed oblivion for just a few minutes longer, while the fear settled within her gut.

“No, Javed. I knew that there was an underlying anger, I just didn’t expect this. Contact the office and tell them we won’t be in tonight.” His voice was tight, and she choked back a sigh, pulling the cloth from her face.

“No, Xavier. You need to go in, and I think it would be best for me to get away from here for now.” She pushed out of the seat, against the hand he held out. “Just give me a minute to wash my face properly, and tidy myself up.” Hope rose, unsteadily, ignoring his support, leaving the room with as much dignity as she could muster.

Reaching the bathroom, she tossed the washer into the sink, before running the cold water, and pressed the wet material against her puffy eyes. A quick glance showed them watery pink, tear tracks through her minimal makeup leaving trails down pale cheeks, and hair in disarray.

Nothing for it but to fix the mess
, she reminded herself, carefully drawing a brush waiting by the sink through her hair, avoiding pulling too hard on the sore area.

Cosmetics spilled from the bag she rifled through, while Hope hurriedly repaired her face as best she could. She gave a quick shrug as she accepted her fate, and made her way back to Xavier who waited in the lounge.

He looked at her, and the frisson of emotion that whipped through her senses made her tingle. “I’m ready.”

He nodded and took her hand, carefully holding it like spun glass, and bent to kiss it, before tucking it safely in the crook of his arm, as he walked out of the room with her.

* * * *

The arrival at the office was almost anticlimactic after the shocking events earlier in the night.

The heavy vehicle wound its way through dark streets where little traffic moved. Most people avoided this time of night, their fears of vampires and other supernatural beings continuing to dog these hours. Only those with a purpose made their way in the night, usually street walkers and their pimps, supernatural beings and their helpers, and of course those who warred with them—hunters and religious zealots.

Xavier had expressed his concern with soft queries and touches, gentle touches that left her aching at the unfairness of her position. Once the vehicle drew to a stop, he opened the door for her. She stepped out and looked up at the shadowed building before her. She’d never seen it at night, and the neon lights on the building reminded her of the icy blue of the Christmas tree lights they usually decorated the grounds of the manor with. It was breathtaking to behold this impressive abode from below.

Together, they rode the elevator to the forty-third floor. The tall structure in the heart of the city was glass-walled, so the view was awe-inspiring. The lights shimmered and flashed as she watched quietly.

Hope fought to control her emotions—agitation at the way her father had acted, loss of the special affinity a child should have with a parent and anger that he hadn’t taken the time to listen before lashing out warred within her. All she could do was control that anger that burned, harness it, until she could deal with the consequences—when she didn’t feel quite so shattered.