The Vampires' Last Lover (Dying of the Dark Vampires Book 1) (29 page)

“To save time, I can assure you that similar violence against your fellow humans is taking place from Shanghai to Moscow, and from London to Milan,” said Gustav.

He either read my mind, or more likely, my face alone displayed my skepticism as he pointed the remote again toward the screen. “So be it. Here is tonight’s report from Paris, detailing attacks from early this morning near Perpignan.”

He changed the format to allow for an English translation to appear at the bottom of the screen. Then again, the graphic description of what happened to the nine victims might’ve sat better with my churning stomach if had I only been able to understand the occasional word delivered in the newscaster’s native French. Sensing that I had seen enough, Gustav turned off the giant TV.

“You can stop all of this, Txema,” he said. He released a deep and drawn-out sigh before continuing. “Ralu will only stop his aggression once he knows you are with child. You are fully aware that he has access to your thoughts as well as your location. If you do not agree to help us, we may not be able to save you from him. We can only run for so long before he will track us down.”

An icy chill raced down my spine as he said this… nearly the same exact words Ralu uttered to me, in my dreams of him. Still, how in the hell could I become pregnant? The vampires possessed some pretty amazing powers, but I sincerely doubted creating a miraculous birth was one of them.

“Why would he care if I was pregnant? Let’s be honest here, this murdering asshole doesn’t exactly seem the type to care if a woman is pregnant? In fact, he might get off on it.” I shuddered as I imagined those razor talons of his slicing my swollen belly and pulling a baby from me.

Gustav pursed his lips as he pulled that thought from my mind.

“That won’t happen, Txema. I swear it on my life. This is not the first time he has attempted this gambit. When the last lover is with child he must admit failure. He must relent. It is our way.” There was a general murmur of assent.

“I wish I could help you,” I said, sort of true—mostly not. “But I can’t get pregnant. I had some difficulties with my first periods and my mom took me to the doctor. They thought it might be because of my athletics or something, but my periods are just not right. I don’t pass the egg along.” I shrugged to add an unspoken ‘wish I could help you, but I can’t.’

“I had the same condition,” said a voice from the back of the room. Suddenly, Chanson transported herself to the right side of Gustav. She bowed, and the edge of her cream flamenco dress nearly dipped into a blood-filled punch bowl.

“We
all
have the same condition, Txema—all of us who bear the birthmark. When
relance de sang
is performed, you will become fertile for a short window of time. An egg will be released into your womb, ready to be fertilized.”

Her smile had a warmth that made me feel better about what happened earlier that day. However, I remained unconvinced my infertile womb could suddenly become whole again—even for the moment she described.

“Trust me, Txema. The ceremony was once used with me—almost three hundred years ago when I was still human,” she added, and in the next instant, she stood next to me. Yeah, that freaked me out—it probably always would.

“It is the only way to save our kind—
your
kind. You may not ever choose to be a vampire, but this is something you can do that serves both vampires and the human race. Our collective survival is dependent on what you choose.”

Her tone was extremely soothing. I wondered if she was trying to ‘glamour’ me, like I once saw the vampires in
True Blood
do to people they sought to control.

“How does it happen?” I asked, wishing badly that there was some other way to fix their problem. I believe it was one of the few times I hated having the damned birthmark. The first time since my sophomore year in high school, when two bitches teased me on picture day and I ended up frowning for the photographer. The marks are hardly noticeable in that picture, but the unflattering scowl on my face remained.

“A vampire must drink your blood while you copulate with a human male,” Garvan said.

Chanson shot him a dirty look; I’m sure for the lack of tact in spelling out what the ceremony is all about, rather than the upstage.

“It’s not as bad as he makes it out to be,” she assured me, pausing to shoot him another glare. He looked away, perhaps in embarrassment or anger—no doubt worsened by the look of disdain he also received from Gustav. He zipped back into the crowd.

“It can be any vampire to make it happen, but you have a choice as to which vampire accompanies you into darkness. The vampire needs to drain enough blood to bring your vital signs down low enough for your body to drop the egg. Once conception occurs the vampire will know and then you will be brought back. Your complete recovery will be swift.”

It sounded just
lovely
. I wasn’t at all thrilled about being drained to the point of near-death, which by itself raised many more questions. Not to mention, while this blood draining was going on somehow I had to participate in having sex with somebody. I briefly wondered if we could opt for a quick little test-tube baby option.

“No,” said Chanson, interrupting my thoughts. “The blood draining and conception must happen simultaneously.”

Okay, so they weren’t going to give this up. Even as I surveyed the room, my gaze encountered unanimous nods, the most enthusiastic ones from Gustav and my long lost cousin.

I suddenly thought of one positive thing. Could I pick the guy, and could it be Racco? Recalling how enraptured I felt by his touch, maybe he could make love to me in such a way that I wasn’t even aware of the vampire’s fangs attached to my neck, like some overgrown tic or parasite. But, could even
he
get past that imagery? Being a vampire’s buddy and all, I wondered if he’d been asked to do this sort of thing at some point in the past.

“He’s not an option,” Gustav said, making this whole voyeur in my head thing that much worse. I bet all of them were peeking at my thoughts right then.

“Who
is not an option?”

Racco stood and came toward me, and all of the vampires turned toward his voice.

“You are not a viable option, and you
know
why this is true,” Gustav replied, his tone even. I could sense anger building within the oldest vampire.

“Things are different now,” said Racco, his sultry tone pulling on my heart again. “It is not like it was—”

“It would be
exactly
as it was!” interrupted Chanson. “Your blood is different. You are not human, any more than we are. Should I tell her about Marissa? Hmmm? Better yet, maybe I should take her to
see
Marissa!”

“No… you do not need to do that,” he said, before turning to walk away.

His shoulders sagged. I could tell this other girl’s name greatly saddened him. I wanted to run over to him and throw my arms around him, so much more than I wanted to find out whom Marissa was.

Before I could pursue either idea, I heard a man screaming. No, that’s not entirely accurate. I first heard the doors to the main entrance groan as they were forced open and then I heard the screams.

“Get your fucking hands off me, you goddamned blood sucker!”

Oh my God. I recognized the voice.

“My dad’s a powerful attorney, and he’s gonna sue your ass—he’ll make you… Txema? Is it really YOU? What in the hell’s going on here?”

Peter. My boyfriend was here. Somehow, some way he was in France. In France and not at all happy about it. He swung in vain, trying to punch Armando, who easily held him in check.

I felt an incredible surge of happiness flow through me. Despite his flushed face and roughed-up appearance, I was thrilled to see him. More so than I would’ve ever dreamed—especially after my recent escapades with Racco. Yes, I felt the pangs of guilt, and knew I would have to come to terms with what I had pursued with Racco, and what I had left with Peter. But, this wasn’t that time.

“Peter!” I ran over to him. Armando let him go, and I threw my arms around his neck. I prepared to say something about missing him so much, and about love. But, all I could do was cry while he held me tight.

When I calmed down enough to talk, I asked him what he was doing here.

“That Armando sucker and the dude with him took me from campus a few days after you disappeared,” he explained, pausing to look around the room. The expression on his bruised face told me that he had hardly noticed the two hundred vampires staring at him until that very moment. “They’ve been keeping me in some fucking dungeon here, after telling me that they needed to keep me prisoner for my protection.”

I could only imagine what his incarceration had been like as compared to mine. He definitely wasn’t treated like a princess on an expensive yacht. In addition to the bruises, the leaves and straw stuck in his hair and the mud stains on his trousers confirmed as much.

“How is Tyreen?” I asked him, thinking this wouldn’t be the time to discuss the obvious reason he was brought here, to mate with me. It seemed so obvious, although I could pretty much guarantee it would take hours—maybe even days and weeks—to get him to buy into the idea, despite his love for me. “Is she okay? What about Johnny, too?”

“Johnny’s in the hospital,” he said, his voice softening to a mere whisper. “The other monsters—the ugly mothers with the weird teeth and claws? They threw him down the stairs when we tried to outrun ‘em. They broke his back, and he may never walk again.”

His beautiful brown eyes glistened, and I thought he might cry. I started crying again.

“What about Tyreen?”

A terrible feeling overwhelmed my entire being when all he would do is close his eyes and shake his head. An uneven stream of tears trickled down the right side of his face, soon joined by another on the left.

“She’s dead.” He gritted his teeth from grief that was still fresh. “She never regained consciousness after she was attacked that night!”

I couldn’t breathe and I could barely think. I wasn’t ready to let her go, this girl whom I felt a closer bond to than most of my family. Tyreen was my family… my new family. And, now she was gone, forever. Chanson had lied to me and as I realized this betrayal I felt alone and more lost than ever before.

I cried even harder. Much,
much
harder.

t was nearly midnight before I calmed down enough to consider what lay before me… the decision to cooperate, or hold fast to what was left of my purity as a human being. Yes, I truly considered my participation in an event such as this to be some sort of blasphemy. Maybe it was the little Catholic kid coming up for air after being held down in my subconscious for so long. I was trapped, though. If I didn’t go through with it they would probably kill Peter and then put me in some kind of a cage. They could read my mind so I would have to go along with it. I buried these thoughts as deep as I could, though I promised myself that I would not let them fool me so completely again.

I had returned to my room by then, this time completely alone. And when the moment came for me to rejoin the others, Chanson would escort me to our destination. I still wasn’t convinced Peter would agree to try and father a child with me—unless on pain of death. No, that’s not an indictment on me, as much as it is the weirdness of this whole scene. I mean, it wasn’t like he and I hadn’t had sex before. Maybe not so much in the last few weeks, but definitely several times during the week of Halloween.