Sapphire Curse, page 22
part #1 of Rebels of the Realms Series
No wave could wash away the pain in Xavier’s face. It was subtle but obvious to someone that had examined every muscle like Darcy had. She pressed her head into his shoulder and gently kissed him.
With a voice soothed by Darcy’s touch, Xavier asked, “Why are you drawn to me?”
“The last person I cared for I nearly killed,” she said, shrugging. “I figure I can’t kill you.”
He scoffed, “How romantic.”
“Are you looking for romance?” she asked, making her voice dramatic and alluring.
“I haven’t looked for anything in over a hundred years,” he said. He searched her expression for answers to questions he couldn’t put to words. “There have been others, I’ll admit. Mortals. Vampires. They were flashes, here for a moment in this endless life and gone without leaving the slightest mark.”
She teased, “You mean you haven’t wandered the world alone until you found me?”
“I have never needed someone,” he said. “I rarely wanted anyone. You baffle me.”
“Maybe it’s not me at all. Maybe it’s some kind of magic.”
He started to shake his head before she finished her theory. He said, “I considered that when I first met you. It piqued my curiosity until I saw your magic and realized it could be true—that my sister somehow sent us to each other. When you healed me with your blood, it seemed to solidify it further. That made me want to flee.”
“I’m confused,” said Darcy.
He said, “My sister’s version of saving me was finding a way to reverse this curse. She didn’t want me to be bound to Traian or blood or anything. She imagined a mortal life for me. Live and die. That was her dream, not mine.” He wet his lips and paused, preparing to share something deeper. “You are not a cure for the curse. You are a rare kind of danger and a force to be reckoned with. You’re not her version of saving me. You’re mine.”
“That was good,” she murmured.
One corner of his lips curled, and he said, “I know.”
She was still in awe. “You know my truth,” she said, digging deeper into his gaze. “You know my flaws.”
He rattled them off. “You trust too easily. For such an intelligent woman you act on impulse. Your curiosity will get you killed.”
She didn’t jab at his list. She had her own. “I frighten you, yet you’re still here,” she said as she pressed closer to him.
“I don’t think I could escape you if I tried. I’m imprisoned.”
She went stiff. “Don’t throw out any L word,” she begged. She wasn’t ready for that. She hadn’t known him long, and most of their interactions involved blood.
“I don’t do that lightly,” he said. “I’ve seen love tossed around so carelessly. If I ever say it, know I mean it.”
Relieved, she said, “I don’t really understand what I feel for you yet, but I feel something as strongly as I feel the magic within me.”
Xavier suddenly had the back of Darcy’s neck in his hand. Cinnamon overpowered the sand and salted shore. When he breathed, his whole body tensed. He brought his face down near hers. “As a woman of science I thought you wouldn’t settle for not understanding,” he said.
“Well,” she said, playfully. Her tongue parted her lips before they curled. She brushed her nose against his. “It would require some extensive research.”
They kissed on the line between the shore and the sea. The glistening eyes of the sky watched in awe and wonder as the two on the ground let everything around them disappear, unaware of what happened beyond the beach.
ξ
Pearl called Lance Anders to take her last patron out of her bar. He wouldn’t leave on his own accord, and come 2 AM, the last of Pearl’s patience had gone to rest. When the deputy pulled out of the lot, Pearl wiped her hands and headed inside to close up shop. Even without her nephews, she wasn’t alone. She had her grandfather’s pistol at her hip just like he told her to do if she ever ventured out at night.
Larry and Joseph had gone home. Pearl preferred to clean up without them. She could do twice the work in half the time if she didn’t have to keep them from stealing a few shots or getting into a tussle with each other. She wiped down the bar and locked up the money. All that stood between her and heading home was a trash run.
She grabbed the stack of bags and headed around to the back of the bar. Joseph once threw Larry into the dumpster one evening. The truck picked him up and was halfway to the dump before Larry woke up from a night of whiskey. Pearl chuckled to herself. He had smelled like bar bathroom vomit for days.
She threw the trash into the dumpster and put a hand on her good hip. The other had been replaced. The night was quiet. There were no animals stirring, not in the trash or in the nearby trees. The bar wasn’t close enough to the ocean to hear any crash of waves. It wasn’t a sound that alarmed her. It was the sudden sickening smell of smoke.
Pearl jerked around at the sound of a high-pitched giggle. A Chinese woman stood ten feet away, a face that had never been in her bar before. Pearl was certain of that. She chewed on the inside of her cheek and went still.
“Pearl, is it?” asked Yin. She waved her hand. “Ah, it really doesn’t matter. It’s not your name I’m after.” Then baring her fangs, Yin growled and lunged forward.
A shot fired. The bullet from Pearl’s gun hit Yin’s side, right at the kidney. Pearl stumbled and waited for Yin to fall over, clench her side, or at least cry out. Yin simply dabbed at the hole in her blouse. The bullet popped out and fell to the ground.
Nonchalantly, Yin said, “Bullets used to tickle. Now they simply ruin a good blouse.”
Pearl dropped the gun and ran for the bar. She made it four steps before she ran right into Yin who shoved her to the ground.
Like straddling a squirming pig, Yin climbed atop Pearl. She swung her arm in the air, rodeo style. She laughed as Pearl thrashed in her struggle. Yin pressed her thumbs on either side of Pearl’s right eye. Blood oozed out from the socket. Yin cackled.
22
The Morgan residence was like the open horizon of the Antarctic—barren and filled with the eeriest of silences. Rest for vampires was good if they didn’t get a chance to feed but not required to survive. There were three bedrooms in the house that were redesigned to have no windows or access to the outside, eliminating the need for Hollywood coffins. As Thomas sat in the living area on the couch, he thought back to the past in which he and the clan slept in caves or underground bunkers. He didn’t miss the surroundings or the company.
Winny was asleep in her room. She didn’t like to be awake and think of the sun shining. Xavier came home right as the first spoke of light broke through the dark horizon. He said nothing to Thomas as he went straight to his room like a sulking teen. He had been in this phase for over a century. Thomas welcomed the nothing when it came to Xavier. He didn’t love being awake alone, but it had been decades since he had slept a full day.
He hadn’t lit the fireplace. The magic of darkness was embedded in his bones. When there were four knocks on the front door, he could make his way through the house with ease.
He was hesitant to answer, but there were times in which locals came by during the day. Twenty years ago when they were staying in a town in Georgia that Winny had chosen, they learned that never answering the door during the day created suspicions. So for the girls selling cookies or the occasional passerby with religious pamphlets, Thomas would open the door with caution and stand back in the shadows.
Thanks to a set of small mirrors put in place for just this purpose, Thomas could see the visitor and his long dreadlocks that covered his ears. Thomas said, “Mr. Anders.” His long hand pressed flat against the wall. He skimmed his face as close to the open doorway as he could get and still be safely away from any light from the outside. “I wasn’t expecting company.”
Lance chewed on the edge of his tongue. He leaned and peered through the doorway and said, “I wasn’t expecting to find Pearl Radley in the hospital either, but there are a lot of unusual things in this town lately.”
“You came by to tell me about the barkeep,” said Thomas. “She and I aren’t that close.”
“I’m trying to figure out what happened. She was attacked.”
“By a drunkard, I bet.”
Lance was colder than a vampire. He said, “Her eye was ripped out.”
Thomas grimaced, but the deputy couldn’t see it. He said, “That is rather unfortunate.”
“You wouldn’t know anything about it, would you?”
Thomas cautiously pulled up his hand and tapped twice on his head. “I have only the two I was born with,” he said.
“What about your friends?” Lance pressed. “Did they have a night on the town?”
“Winny was here with me. I can’t speak for Xavier, but I believe he was visiting a friend.”
“Do you have hours?”
“The whole night. It’s a good friend.”
“You don’t aim to come out and talk to me, do you?”
“You don’t aim to come in here, do you?”
Lance pulled up on his belt and said, “The woman that attacked Pearl was still there when I found her. She ran off. Is there any chance you might know who it could be?”
Thomas had two guesses. It didn’t matter which it was really, now that he knew they were together. He questioned, “Why would she run? If she is bold enough to rip out an eye, I don’t think she would be that afraid of you.”
Lance paused to hold his composure. He had debated sending another deputy to come here, but he decided he could trust himself more than Mr. Morgan. He said, “A young woman was found dead in the woods. It looks like the body has been out there since before Halloween. Both eyes are intact. Do you have any thoughts on that one?”
“I do,” said Thomas. He waited, knowing full and well the sharpness of his words. “It sounds like we have a deficiency in our police force.”
Lance popped his neck on one side and then the other, slowly easing out the desire to snap back at Thomas. Calmly, he said, “She had bite marks on her neck and wrist. Another on her thigh.”
Thomas winced. It was Yin’s trifecta.
“The woman wasn’t from here,” said Lance, raising his voice when Thomas didn’t interject. “You might think she was crazy. She had a bunch of gems and odd things. There was a note that talked about curses and spells. One even mentioned vampires.”
“I’m sure the papers will swirl with rumors,” said Thomas as he dared to skim his fingertips along the line of sunlight that cut into the foyer. “Or will they, deputy? These deaths have had a way of dying before anyone hears about them.”
Lance scowled. He questioned, “What’s the point when witnesses don’t seem to remember?”
Thomas stirred the pot. He asked, “Will you try to convince them their own memories are falsehoods? Do you want them to question their own people? Perhaps they will go on a witch hunt.”
Lance’s foot tapped four times. He said, “I get that this town thinks highly of you because of your charity. That means nothing to me. I don’t trust you, not any of you.”
“You don’t even know Xavier or Winny.”
“I don’t have to.”
Thomas rapped his fingers on the wall, paused, and then did it again. “I would warn you about acting on your mistrust. I do believe it would have consequences for you, would it not?”
Lance clutched his chest with one hand. His nostrils flared as he said, “I’m keeping an eye on you three.”
“We’re far easier to see in the night,” said Thomas, a slight hiss in his voice.
Lance clicked his tongue. There were plenty of words boiling in his mouth. He would let them simmer for now. He slid back from the door, but he wasn’t going without one more punch. He said, “I may not be able to do what I want, but I will find a way to keep villains from terrorizing my town.”
Thomas jabbed, “You’ve done a fine job so far.”
Thomas watched Lance’s features harden in the mirror and got a thrill out of it. Lance turned back toward his car, not before flashing his middle finger.
Thomas waved even though Lance couldn’t see him. There were villains in Cape Emerald for sure. The deputy thought he had seen the marks of monsters, but Thomas knew the creatures lingering in this town were capable of much worse than bites and pried eyes.
ξ
America, 1778
Thomas Morgan had been in the colonies for over a year. His soldiers were tasked with taking out militias before they became problems. They sifted through the farms and cities of the coast, snuffing out any new uprisings. Sometimes they would find soldiers trying to return home after failed battles. Thomas’ men were to ensure the efforts of these battles left no survivors.
Earlier in the evening right as the sun had gone to rest, they had found a few dozen men that had been hoarding supplies for the rebels. The ammunition had been seized. Food and clothing were taken. What Thomas’ men didn’t have was shelter from the bitter snow. That was until they came across a farm.
They had started a fire inside the small single-room house. The women and children that resided in the home had been removed. They were relocated to the barn where they were watched so they couldn’t alert any neighbors about the redcoats. There were no men. There rarely were.
The soldiers ransacked every box and barrel without concern. They found every scrap of food. Thomas took up his post in a seat by the fire while the men that remained inside savored the break from the chill of the night and the thoughts of the battlefield.
Wallace, the largest among the men, downed his portion of hard cider in one swoop and raised his empty glass to the room. He said, “I’ll be finding something real to drink when we return home. Maybe I’ll take it straight from the king.”
Two men cackled. Edmund, the oldest, said, “You have your drink.” He had a missing tooth from a pub fight years back. “I’ll be locked in my room with my woman until the next king is crowned.”
Oswald, a scrawny man, said, “You’ll only be able to afford her for a month.”
The men bellowed, all but Thomas.
“What about you, Thomas?” asked Edmund. “What will you do when you return?”
Thomas gently ran his finger around the edge of his full glass. In the metal he watched the reflection of the flames from the fireplace. Home was like that reflection, a distorted memory.
Wallace jumped next to Thomas and puckered his lips. He said, “He’ll be married within a fortnight. She’s a blonde like yourself, isn’t she?”
The men tried to describe aloud the rest of her picture, having never met the young lady. The announcement had been made at a party held by the Morgans. Their son would wed the daughter of a wealthy merchant. A date would be set the second the war was won and Thomas was back in England.
A boyish man named Sam, the youngest who had eagerly joined the ranks when the opportunity came to fight, took a drink of his cider. It burned him. He hadn’t quite developed the throat for it. He asked, “Then who is the redhead you speak of in your sleep?”
“No harm in that!” Oswald declared.
Thomas barely moved. He let the men cheer and answer their own questions with their sleazy imaginations.
The door opened, letting in a few flakes of snow and a rush of winter air. The men grumbled until Henry closed the door behind him. He turned to the men and rubbed his raw hands together before blowing a warm breath into them.
Henry was the best of them with a gun. He had a keen eye and steady hands. He had gained admiration from all the men for spotting the enemy before an attack and for three times nailing impossible shots. Despite the cold he let in, the men welcomed him with nods and his own glass of cider.
“Had a scene in the barn,” said Henry. He bit off a chunk of a dried biscuit he pulled from his pocket. “A woman showed up and let the family go.”
Edmund slammed his hand on the table and barked, “We better round up the cattle before they find any men.”
“It’s being taken care of,” said Henry as he strolled closer to the fire. The firelight highlighted his pronounced cheekbones and narrow jawline.
Thomas took hold of Henry’s arm, firm at first and then easing. He asked, “How do you mean?”
Henry glanced down at Thomas’ hand and then up to his eyes. He said, “Half went after the family. The others are tending to the woman.”
The other men snickered. Thomas sat up straight, serious as always. Without a word, he stood and headed out into the cold. He gave his seat by the fireplace to Henry.
The moon looked cold with a blue tint. Thomas stuffed his hands under his arms as he left behind the sound of the men inside the house. He headed toward the barn where he heard cackling followed by a woman’s shrill cry. The rest of the world around him was quiet and still. There was barely a sound or a stir from the woods that surrounded the quaint plot of land.
Three men were inside the barn, surrounding a woman they had kicked to the ground. They were the worst of the bunch. Thomas had requested they be removed before they ever set sail for the colonies. There was nothing about them that appeared different than the others, but that was the trick of a monster. Any man could be one.
Roger, an unremarkable man, snatched the young woman by the ankle. Her gray dress caught on the ground. There was a navy ribbon in her hair. It came undone in the struggle. The men taunted her as Roger revealed her legs and midriff.
“Leave her alone!” Thomas barked. He didn’t wait for the men to argue or cower. He crossed the light of the lantern hanging on a post. He ripped Roger away from the woman by yanking on his hair, ripping out a handful in the process.
The other two men shoved Thomas at the chest, a fool’s reaction. Thomas wasn’t the type to snap back. Anger could alter aim or subdue the strength in a blow. Thomas was known among the men as the strongest. He gripped the taller man by the throat with precision and lifted him up off his feet with one arm, muscles taut.
Thomas chucked the taller man into a nearby barrel. A large piece of wood broke off and penetrated the man’s arm, causing him to shout obscenities at Thomas who did not flinch at the sound. There was another man to teach.
