The Vampire Curse Page 7

  She jumps to her feet, facing me, and I know our conversation is at an end.

  “We must get you ready!”

  And just like that, I am swept up in a whirlwind of silks and accessories as Kitty goes about picking out our clothes.

  Chapter Ten

  Clara

  “Clara,” Kitty says. “You must wear this one to the party tonight.”

  I lower the dress I held up for her to examine. She has the rich olive material pinched between two fingers of one hand and is stroking it with her other.

  “Why didn’t you tell me earlier about the dresses he gave you?” She lifts the material and strokes it against her cheek then murmurs, “Perhaps being taken by a vampire might not be as bad as we thought…”

  My heart nearly stops in my chest. While it’s true that Alaric is not as we always thought vampires to be, his guests are proof that he is a rare exception.

  “No,” I snap. “Vampires are dangerous. Do not let pretty dresses and trinkets fool you into thinking otherwise.”

  She drops the hem of the gown, hurt and annoyance warring in her expression. “How can you say that? You are well fed, and I doubt he would send you with these things if he was not taking care of you.”

  “A—Mr. Devereaux is not like other vampires… Did you forget about the one that took mother?”

  I say “took” but we both know I mean killed.

  “Maybe something else caused her death?” she offers. “Your vampire looked terribly mean and violent when he took you, but… look at you. You’re fine. You’re more than fine.”

  I don’t know why I’m arguing with her, or how this became a fight so quickly. Alaric is not a bad man, and it twists my heart to even talk as if he were. But it's far more disconcerting to think Kitty could have her opinion changed so easily by material possessions.

  I worry she will be careless in town, that she will leave her home during a claiming and cross paths with a vampire and suffer the same fate as Mother. After all, marriage doesn’t protect anyone from being claimed. If anything, it’s more likely to doom them faster. And women, especially beautiful ones like Kitty, are more likely to be claimed.

  “Yes, he did. And yes, I am alive,” I say, calmly trying to ease away from the argument. I don’t want to fight with her. I want to spend time with her. I want to share smiles and laugh with her again like we used to. “But I have come across other vampires, ones that wouldn’t hesitate to kill you to quench their thirst for blood and violence.”

  Kitty’s face pales and the bitter taste of guilt coats my tongue. She nods, accepting.

  I lay the dress out in her arms and quickly untie the dress I have been in for two days.

  “Do you think I have time for a bath before I get ready?” I ask. I am glad to have made it here so fast, but I do wish we'd made a stop in Durford for the night.

  I suppose that in itself is another problem I will have to solve eventually. Now that Alaric has broken our bargain and freed me, that leaves me where I started. Though perhaps I can stay with Kitty until I find a job to work until Xander and I can marry.

  I will write to him first thing in the morning to let him know I am back.

  She giggles and I eye her over my shoulder. “By the time they finish boiling the water for you, the party will have already started! Besides, the only rooms that have working plumbing are Abraham’s parents.”

  “I suppose that was a ridiculous question,” I say, peeling my dress off and letting it fall to the floor.

  “Clara!” Kitty gasps. “What has happened?” She grips my shoulder and spins me around.

  My dress falls to a heap on the floor. I quickly bend down to pick it up and use it to try and cover my arms.

  “You said he wasn’t hurting you… but look,” she hisses. “Both of your arms are bandaged. Why did you lie?”

  “No, Kitty, please. It wasn’t him. I swear it. I wouldn’t lie about this.” Except… even if her assumptions had been correct, I think I would lie. It would only distress her at a time when she deserves to be happy.

  “You can tell me the truth,” she whispers as if there was a chance we could be overheard. “He can’t get to you here. If it’s him, I will have Abe—”

  “No, Kitty. It wasn’t him,” I repeat, this time I keep my words slow and calm. “It was an accident. I was in a part of the manor I shouldn’t have been in. I did this through my own carelessness. He was the one who found me and bandaged my wounds.”

  There. Nothing about that is a lie, though it is not entirely the truth. I don't want to worry her with the full details.

  A part of me feels uneasy talking about Alaric to her, I don’t want her to know anything about him.

  She presses her lips and arches a brow.

  A dull throb starts behind my eyes. “Let’s not talk about such things now. I am here for your wedding and we have an engagement party to dress for.”

  Kitty holds onto her doubt for another second before I can see it visibly melt away and her mood brighten.

  After helping me dress, we walk arm in arm down the hall. The quiet between us since she saw the bandages has felt heavy with our unspoken words.

  I clear my throat. “You are looking well, Kitty.”

  “You’ve said that already,” she says, then lifting her chin a fraction she adds, “You keep calling me Kitty. I prefer Kathrine now. I’m too old to be Kitty, and besides, I will soon be a married woman of status.”

  “Kathrine it is then.” Her full name feels strange on my tongue. “You must be getting the best medicine money can buy. I’m glad to see that they are taking such good care of you.”

  She is silent. When I look at her, she blushes and averts her eyes, then offers me a sheepish smile. “I will tell you a secret… but you have to promise not to be upset with me.”

  I list my head to the side. What kind of secret could she have to share with me now? And one that might be upsetting…

  I nod. My stomach knots as I wait for her to get on with it.

  “No, you have to promise,” she insists.

  I don’t like making such agreements without knowing more about the situation, but this is my sister. “I promise.”

  She stops in her tracks and pulls on my elbow until I face her. “I never meant to make life harder for you, but… I’m not as strong as you. I don’t have the skills you do…”

  “Kit-Kathrine, out with it already,” I admonish.

  “All that hard work would have calloused my hands and made them rough, and then I never would have been able to secure my engagement with Abraham. It’s okay because it’s all worked out in the end. I have Abraham and his family, and you have a nice Lord to take care of you.”

  My mouth parts as I struggle to put everything together.

  “I was never sick. I didn’t need the medicine, and with me being weak… father would leave me alone.”

  She watches me, waits for a response. But I have none.

  Life would have been easier if she’d helped. We might have had more food on the table, some extra money, and I wouldn’t have spent precious coins on medicine she never needed.

  I wait for the anger I know I should feel to rise, but it doesn’t come.

  Kathrine stares at me with large doe eyes. “Remember, you promised you wouldn’t be angry with me…” she says in a soft voice.

  I look at her. She is small, nearly half a head shorter. And even well fed, she is still willowy. I suppose she wouldn’t have survived having to do those things.

  “I’m not upset,” I say. What surprises me more is that I think I believe it too.

  I’m not angry, though there is a splinter of hurt that has wedged itself into my heart. Kathrine’s deception all these years stings. She’d revealed the truth so casually. I’ve spent so long trying to protect her, trying to keep life from breaking that soft, gentle girl—she’s only guilty of doing the same.

  I give her the best smile I can manage, and it seems to be what she needs. Tension melts fro
m her shoulders, and she pulls me down the hall, heading down the stairs to meet her guests as they arrive.

  I suppose I was not the only one keeping secrets. But there is something calculating and devious about this secret she’s kept all these years.

  It makes me wonder if we ever really knew each other at all.

  Chapter Eleven

  Alaric

  Black clouds block out the moon and stars, blanketing the world in a nearly impenetrable darkness. The front door closes with a solid click as my foot lands on the gravel drive.

  A low rumble emanates from Victor’s chest. His hunger lends a desperation to his movements as he steps forward.

  I block his way with my arm, forcing him to come up short. He glares at me as if he’s debating ripping the limb off to get by.

  “Remember, we are all to conduct ourselves in the way I have instructed.” I glance at Victor from the corner of my eye. “This is my town, my food source, and I will not have my arrangement with the humans damaged because one or more of you failed to control yourself. Any humans you feed on must agree of their own free will, so compulsion is forbidden. Do not harm or frighten them.”

  I pause and look at each of the others in turn. Lawrence and Della stand side by side, taking in my words. This is not their first time here.

  Cassius crosses his arms as if my orders mean little to him. But Victor struggles to pay attention.

  “Above all, these humans are to be treated with respect.” I lower my voice and focus in on Victor. “I do not want a repeat of what happened a month ago.”

  Victor’s gaze finally snaps to mine, wide eyes narrowing into a glower at the mention of his second night here. Being held accountable for his actions seems to be a new situation for him, but that doesn’t mean I’ll go easy.

  “You caused me a great deal of trouble cleaning up your mess—and not only having to dispose of that poor girl’s body.”

  That lie, all those humans compelled… the situation still leaves a bitter taste on my tongue.

  Victor huffs but doesn’t move to defy me.

  “How are the people out at night for us to feed on? We hunted during the day, the last time we were here,” Della mutters.

  I turn on her. My patience grows short, and I know I must feed soon or my inner demon will take over. “In exchange for their willingness to be fed upon, I keep the demons from coming within several miles of town.”

  “You work as a slave for these humans,” Cassius snorts under his breath.

  I ignore him and run. I stand at the edge of town within a minute. A bustling noise comes from the central square, lit gas lamps line the streets, and the clack of hooves on the cobblestone all mix to create an atmosphere that most humans only hear in the day.

  Keeping the demons back and changing so many lives was a point of pride for Rosalie. This is the life she had wanted before I took that possibility from her.

  “We leave our demons here,” I say.

  “But how—” Victor starts.

  “You do not need your demon to feed. They stay, or you will return to the manor.”

  Cherno leaps off my shoulder and takes flight. Arinah squeaks and leaps off Lawrence, landing with a soft thump in the half-frozen grass. I don’t hear Asmod slither from Cassius, but I know he wouldn’t dare defy me on this. He might want to be Elizabeth’s first, but he will never be more than her second.

  A moment later and Zegan croaks once before leaping from Victor’s outstretched hand. Cherno circles above, chittering as he keeps watch.

  “Remember the rules,” I say.

  Lawrence and Della run off toward the center square. Victor is only a second behind them. I reach out and grip Cassius’s forearm.

  “Watch him,” I order.

  His lip curls. He wants to argue, but they are in my territory. After a moment, he averts his gaze, unable to meet my silent challenge.

  Swallowing the dread that crawls its way up my spine, I walk into town.

  I am barely several blocks in when a loud gasp draws my attention. A woman, perhaps only a year or two older than Clara, has stopped in front of me. Recognition sparks in her eyes, and a broad smile spreads across her mouth. Her hat sits askew atop her head, and her dress tells me she is off to see a play or the local opera.

  The woman walks up to me. The boldness of her move reminding me again of Clara. She looks nothing like her, but I see fierce brown eyes in her green ones, messy, dark brown hair worn loose in this one’s tightly pinned flaxen curls. Her corset is tied so tight that her waist seems too narrow for even her delicate build.

  “Are you hungry, my Lord?” she asks in a sweet voice. Everything about her says she has been groomed to attract the most desirable match. The woman tilts her head to the side, exposing her neck.

  I want to refuse the woman and find another who doesn’t remind me of Clara. But I see her in everyone and everything.

  “Are you willing?” I ask.

  She straightens and blinks her large eyes. “Well, yes,” she says, humor in her tone. “Of course. I am offering.”

  Even before she exposed her neck, I knew. The eagerness with which she approached made her willingness apparent. One of the many reasons I prefer not to feed in town.

  “Very well,” I say.

  She slips her arm through mine and walks with me down a deserted side street. The glow from the gas lamps shine, gilding the damp cobblestones.

  “Will you be late?” I ask.

  “Late?” She bats her eyelashes.

  “You are going out tonight.”

  “Oh yes,” she says. “But I can spare a little time for you, my Lord. An hour or two if need be.”

  This woman expects far more than a simple feeding. However, other than her blood, I have no interest in anything she has to offer.

  I stop her and press her back against the stone facade of a building. Her gaze goes from questioning to excited. She tilts her head, her hands roaming across my chest to grip at my shoulders as she presses her body into mine.

  I despise those who wish to use me as their fantasy. Unfortunately, I need to feed. I am too close to losing my control of my bloodlust.

  I sink my teeth into her neck and drink, thinking about Clara.

  She writhes and moans. Her hands roam, reaching between us. Disengaging, I back out of her reach and give her a halfhearted bow. “Thank you, lady,” I say and turn away.

  Otherworld damn Clara, she is like a demon with their claws latched deep into my brain. I feed on others as I would feed on her.

  “But… I thought…” the woman says.

  I stop but don’t face her. “I don’t know what you’ve heard, but I do not bed my meals.”

  Before she can say another word, I hurry away. I have never been so cold toward a donor before. I have no doubt she's pouting, but nothing more than her pride has been injured this night.

  A long time ago, I would have given in to such baser urges and combined the two. I didn’t care if humans used me to fulfill their fantasies. I didn’t care about anything. As long as I didn’t kill them for Rosalie’s sake, I thought nothing more of them.

  Now the thought of doing more than feeding is unappealing.

  I shake off the unwanted thoughts and focus on finding the others.

  Lawrence and Della walk together down the main street toward the edge of town. I appear at their side.

  “Done already?” Lawrence asks in a way that makes me wonder if he saw the woman I fed on. Della’s smirk only confirms that suspicion.

  “Have you seen Cassius or Victor?” I ask, pointedly ignoring their insinuation.

  Lawrence nods toward a street several blocks back.

  “Meet me at the edge of town,” I say.

  I waste no time seeking the other two out. It is them I cannot trust.

  Moans echo from the darkened street. The gas lamp on the corner has been snuffed.

  I turn the corner in time to witness Cassius straightening his trousers. He gives me a fiendish gri
n as he pulls a handkerchief from his pocket and dabs the corner of his mouth.

  The woman with him has her back to me as she scrambles to straighten her dress. Her wild, red hair is a waterfall of messy curls. I narrow my eyes. There is something…

  Cassius grips her arms from behind and leans down to whisper something in her ear I cannot make out. She nods then hurries away.

  I don’t care what he said to her, I am only relieved she lives. His reputation for killing during feeding has followed him for decades. I’d expected I would have to watch Cassius closely during his visit, but thus far, he has surprised me. No doubt an attempt to get on Elizabeth’s good side. There is nothing he doesn’t do that is not an attempt to please her.

  “Wait with the others, your demon is expecting you,” I say.

  Then I turn my back on him and hurry through the streets of Windbury to find Victor.

  I scour every dark corner and alley. Worry eats at me as I venture farther and farther into town.

  Nearing the southern edge of the city, where the buildings give way to small farms, a soft whimper comes from the tree lined side of a field. I follow the sound.

  On the other side of a small copse of trees, Victor is with a girl under him, writhing on the ground. Her hands swat weakly at his shoulders.

  “Enough… that’s enough… I’m not… not feeling well,” her voice is a hoarse whisper.

  I step closer only to be stopped short by a sharp intake of breath from yet another girl huddled against a nearby tree. Blood stains the front of her dress. She whimpers at the sight of me and curls further into herself.

  These women are terrified. Fucking demon cursed bastard. This is a blatant disregard of my orders.

  “Victor, get up. We are leaving,” I bite out.

  Victor pauses his movements as if he only now noticed I was here. He lifts his head and smiles. Blood coats his mouth and teeth, thick lines drip down from both corners of his mouth. Victor pushes up, leaving the girl without so much as a glance in her direction.

  He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and waits for my next command. “Apologies, my Lord, I am still getting used to the bloodlust.”