Of Blood and Sorrow Read online

  Bolona hugged me once more and left the two of us alone.

  “I’ll do whatever you want to do,” he said softly near my ear.

  “I’m not leaving.” I didn’t need anyone to tell me I wasn’t being reasonable. Part of me wanted to stay, knowing I’d likely be killed. Yet I also wanted to make sure Hessa paid for what she did to Connor, to Nicolas, to everyone her foul influence had touched.

  “I was hoping you’d say that.” I wasn’t looking at him, but I could tell he smiled. “So what now?”

  “Well, we’re going to have to stay here. I don’t know where else to take you. And hope they don’t try to force me, or both of us, to leave during the day.” My gut told me Aleo wouldn’t stand for any of my pleading this time. He was grieving and furious. Not a good combination. He was a hard man when the moment called for it, and I’d seen it in his eyes.

  “There has to be another option.” Nicolas seemed to sense my uncertainty about the situation. “What about your place?”

  “Not even Abdiel wanted to walk through the front door.”

  “Well, what if I didn’t walk through the front door? I could hop in through a window or slide down the chimney.” He leaned back against the couch.

  After everything we’ve been through, it seemed terribly unfair that we would be split up and sent away. I was almost ready to suggest we just take off out of town together tonight since we’d be sent away tomorrow any which way. It was then that a few details occurred to me at what he said.

  The Lady lied.

  I remembered the Lady said any vampire who set foot on her property would go up in flames immediately. Nicolas came right up to the porch. The Lady might have been talking about the house itself, but she had definitely said property.

  Also, she had mentioned the house was warded against unwelcome visitors. What if I welcomed Nicolas into the house? What if the house wasn’t really warded at all?

  Semantics, really, but with the old demons, the truth was in the details. My lips pursed. “Are you willing to give my home a try? I think maybe it’s not as dangerous as everyone believes it to be.”

  “Really?” Nicolas sat up, brows rising as well. “Let’s go.”

  “I should tell—”

  “Do you honestly think they’ll let you leave here?”

  I pictured myself tied up to a chair after such a suggestion to the Putzkammers.

  “No,” I sighed. I hated just taking off and worrying them. They would know I’d be safe at the Lady’s house, and they wouldn’t suspect Nicolas to be there. It might work to our advantage. “A note, at least.”

  I scribbled a quick note saying I went home. They might not like it that I left, but they trusted the Lady. They believed her house to be the safest place in the area.

  And as long as everyone believed it, it was.

  I invited Nicolas onto the porch and then into the house. I held my breath as he stepped inside. My whole body tensed, ready for the worst.

  Nothing happened. Not even a single spark.

  Well, damn. Everyone so afraid and nothing.

  The phone rang not ten seconds after we were in the door. It was Bolona calling to make sure I was all right. I promised her I was and that I was definitely staying there where I was safe. The Putzkammer matron sounded relieved when I bid them a good night.

  “All this fuss and here I am.” Nicolas grinned and took a peek around the house. “Nice place. Almost feels like I’m standing in a commercial, everything’s so clean and in its place.”

  My heart still hammered in my chest. Even though Nicolas was inside, part of me still expected something to happen. And what would the Lady think of me for bringing him in? Would she kick me out… or worse? But I had to keep Nicolas safe. There was nowhere else.

  “The Lady is a meticulous housekeeper.” I opened the fridge and took out a bottle of water.

  Water. The Rusalka baby. A memory of her blowing bubbles, tickling her nose.

  The bottle slipped from my fingers. I bent down and hoped he didn’t see me shaking as I picked it up. Memories from feeding usually didn’t assert themselves so strongly, especially after I fed. It only reinforced the fact that taking the grief from new mothers who lost their babies was wrong.

  “You don’t think we woke her, do you? I get the feeling she wouldn’t like my being here.” Nicolas stepped into the living room.

  “No. She’s never awake at night.” I opened the door beside the pantry and walked down into my basement apartment.

  It was a spacious area. It had a little kitchenette with a sink, microwave, and small fridge. There was nothing in it except a few apples I hadn’t gotten around to eating. Most of my meals were taken upstairs, at the Putzkammers’, or at the funeral home.

  The sitting area consisted of a loveseat and recliner. Twin piles of crossword puzzle books were equal to the chair’s arms. On top of one pile, my favorite pen glinted with the light. A small flat screen television sat on what really was a coffee table, and a mystery novel rested on the couch with another five dozen in a small bookshelf to the right of the television.

  A queen-sized bed, thick with quilts, rested against the far wall. An old wardrobe and dresser matched it. The alarm clock glowed a soft red.

  A full bathroom enclosed the corner farthest from the stairs. Everything was clean and fresh. There were two windows and both were covered with heavy shades.

  I went directly to the bathroom. I needed to change out of my clothes. They had been drenched and were almost completely dry, but it didn’t make them any more comfortable. I had my shirt off before I realized Nicolas had followed and was watching me.

  “Wow. Do those spots go all the way down?”

  I hissed and spun around, pressing my shirt to my chest and my back to the wall. “Get out!”

  “Come on, it’s not like you’re naked. Though you’d see me smiling a lot more if you were.” Nicolas stepped closer and flashed me a grin. “I know you’re a bit shy, all those turtlenecks and conservative suits, but I like the spots. They’re sexy. Reminds me of the Trill in Star Trek. I always had a thing for Dax. And thus I reveal my geeky side. I bet that’s sexy, eh?”

  I didn’t smile nor say a word. My spots were a curse, not some sci-fi geek’s wet dream.

  “Besides, you’ve seen me naked.”

  “Geez, how could I forget?” My cheeks flamed.

  “Of course you wouldn’t forget. I know I’ve got a body to die for. Literally.” He chuckled at his own joke and moved another step closer. Lifting a hand, he kept a close watch on my face as he brought it up to touch my forearm where the trail of spots started. “I do really like them. Something exotic about it. Do they go all the way down?”

  The spots. I shivered as his gaze followed them down. He may not realize what they signified, but I did. They were the mark of my beast. Phage.

  His warm breath on me, closer than before, stole my attention. His caress. Every sense came alive and all focused upon him.

  “Down my spine and the back of my legs.” I stood very still, feeling my stomach flip as his fingers danced up my arm. My toes wiggled in my wet boots.

  His fingers reached my shoulder and caressed the place where it met my neck. Such a tender touch. Nicolas gently urged me away from the wall and turned me around. He brushed my hair to one side and continued to follow the spots down my back. He kissed that same spot between the neck and shoulder. My lips parted, tremulously inhaling.

  Maybe I could live with the spots if he continued to kiss me like that. My heart sped up as my thighs clenched. More kisses trailed along my neck to just behind my ear.

  Was it so wrong to want to feel good? And as he pressed against me, his hardness told me he very much wanted to make me feel good.

  “You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, nuzzling my neck. “You and your black spots.”

  I stiffened. Black. Fuck, they were black. Like my mother’s had always been.

  I whipped around and elbowed him in the chest. I hit him
so hard he flew back into the tub and cracked a few tiles. I ran, jumped into the bed, and wrapped myself in a thick quilt, burying my head in the pillows with the hope I wouldn’t start crying again.

  Nicolas groaned, picked himself up, and switched off the bathroom light. It was dark save for the light of the clock. The bed shifted as he sat down on the end. “Erin, I’m sorry. I don’t know what I said, but I’m sorry.”

  “It’s not your fault.” Though he had been the one smacked into the wall for it. “I’m sorry.”

  “Hey, don’t worry about it. I’m not easily broken.” He moved a little closer on the bed. “We can sit here apologizing to each other for the rest of the night or you can tell me what I did. I wasn’t going to bite you. You know I won’t.”

  I buried my face in the pillows for a moment longer. I then rolled over, looking at him in the dimly lit room. He’d never hurt me. Of all the things in the world I’d never thought I would believe, it was that a vampire would never hurt me. Even Bolona had sensed it.

  “I know you won’t.” I curled up under the quilt, uncomfortable with clothes still on. I could at least take off my boots and socks and proceeded to do so. “It’s… my spots. It’s what happened tonight. My life. Everything.”

  “That’s pretty broad.” Nicolas helped with my boots and set them on the floor at the foot of my bed. “I meant what I said about your spots.”

  “I know.” I cringed and got rid of my wet socks too. “They’re black. They weren’t before. It’s bad.”

  “How? What happened?” He tensed. “Does it mean you’re going to die soon? Or turn into a demon monster?”

  “No, no. It means…” I swallowed. My chin trembled. “It means the sorrow I fed off tonight was very powerful.”

  “And?” He waited, tense and ready to leap into action.

  “It’s so powerful it darkens my spots.” And it was addicting. I bit my still aching lip as a few tears escaped the corners of my eyes.

  He paused, waiting for more, but when it didn’t come, he scooted to sit beside me. He wiped at my tears with a gentle hand. No super quick or too smooth vamp movements. Just one person comforting another.

  “What you did tonight saved lives. The Putzkammers would have died. Who knows who else might have been hurt? Even I was having trouble fighting the song. That woman would have kept singing if it hadn’t been for you.” He laid a hand over mine. “I bet you anyone would jump at the chance to have someone like you around when they were feeling sad. No one wants to feel that way. Especially that woman who lost her baby. What’s a few dark spots compared to helping her?”

  “It’s wrong.” I hissed through clenched teeth. He just didn’t understand. “I don’t have the right to take that grief from anyone. That’s what happens when I feed. I take the sorrow, and they don’t know it. And a mother who just lost her baby—” My throat tightened and my body drew in on itself. “It’s wrong. The emotion is gone, and they don’t miss their loved ones. I promised I’d never do it.”

  “Okay. I can see how you feel that way. But you did what you had to do. You saved lives. That’s not wrong.” I hated he sounded so logical and I seemed crazy.

  “My mother.” A small whimper escaped me. “That’s what my mother did. She fed on the grief of mothers who lost their babies. Babies she killed.” As the words came out, I wanted to throw up or scream or both, but somehow, I remained sitting. My head fell forward as I cried. Nicolas’ arms tightened and pulled me against him.

  “She killed babies. Killed babies so she could feed. Her spots were always black.” Black and ugly. Just like my mother’s soul.

  Nicolas held me even more tightly and cupped my chin. He raised my head so I looked at him. I could feel the sadness in him. Sorrow for me. “You’re not your mother. You’re a good person, Erin. The best person I’ve ever known. No matter what color your spots are, you’re good through and through.”

  I wanted to laugh. How little he knew!

  “I’m not good. I killed her.” Yup, maybe I was crazy. There shouldn’t have been any more tears left, but they came.

  “I killed my own mother.” The words tumbled out. I wanted to take them back as soon as I’d said it. Now he’d hate me, see me for the tainted soul I was.

  “You’re not a monster.” Nicolas kept a firm hold on my chin. “If you killed her, then she deserved it. Killing babies.” He shook his head with disgust. “She was the monster. You did the right thing.” He leaned in and kissed me, salty tears and all.

  I laughed and sobbed at the same time. He was still there. Not only there, but kissing me. I had done what I had to do, but sometimes it didn’t seem that way. Sometimes I felt like a demon from the stories of old. I always feared I’d grow into a monster for that was what my mother had been.

  Nicolas leaned back on the pillows and tugged me down with him. Making sure I was still tucked under the quilt, he dried my cheeks with his sleeve. He kicked off his shoes and brought his legs fully onto the bed. “Tell me.”

  In a quiet voice, I told him the whole story. My mother was a midwife and traveled for her work. She was good at what she did. Particularly good at keeping worrying pregnant women calm and emotionally stable. She took me with her, choosing to work for well-to-do families who could supply us with everything we needed.

  No. Not just what we needed. The extravagant things. My mother had expensive tastes.

  I didn’t know what my mother was doing when I was a small. I believed a lot of infants didn’t survive their first few months. My mother would feed from the parents, and it would take the grief away. It didn’t seem like a bad thing.

  As I neared my teen years, I discovered the truth. I walked in on her smothering a newborn with a pillow. I pleaded with her to stop, but she threatened to do the same thing to me if I told anyone. She was never a loving woman toward me. She was harsh with her discipline and strict, but that never made me hate her until I saw her kill that baby.

  Hate her I did, but I also feared her. I was young and just learning what it meant to be a Phage as I came into puberty. Small sorrows fed me at first, but soon I needed more. My mother told me that only the grief of a new mother would do for her when I was full grown. I would have to do what she did to survive.

  I was terrified of having to live such a life. The sorrow of the grieving families was more than enough for me. When I turned sixteen, my mother wanted to initiate me into the life of a proper Phage. She demanded I kill an infant. When I refused, I was beaten. My mother said she would ask every morning, and each time I refused, she would beat me. That lasted three weeks.

  On the first day of the fourth, I couldn’t take it anymore. I killed my mother.

  I trembled as I finished the story. I’d given Connor the shorter version, but I told Nicolas all the details. He knew my darkest secret. He knew the beast inside of me. Yet he didn’t run. He continued to hold me.

  “You’re no monster. Not even a demon. You’re an angel.” Nicolas’ voice was soft and awed.

  My cheeks heated as I gave a little snort. Though I tried to take his comment as something silly, I was giddy inside. It seemed wrong to feel that way after telling that story, after everything that had happened lately, but he made me feel good.

  Not just good, but safe and loved. What? No. I did not use that word.

  I opened my mouth to tell him I was no angel, but he shushed me.

  “Get some sleep now.”

  I didn’t think I’d be able to do so. Images flitted through my mind: Aleo and his sons still as corpses in the rising water, Svetla’s lovely face twisted by grief, Hessa’s perfect glare of hate, and the tiny baby cooing as she cuddled against her mother.

  My spots remained sizzling hot.

  It was just after noon when an unearthly screech caused me to bolt upright. What the fuck?

  I cringed at the sudden bright light as the Lady glided toward the bed in all her terrible golden glory.

  “Vampire!” The Lady pointed an accusatory finger at me. �
��You brought a vampire into my home!”

  Oh shit!

  Nicolas had been too slow to hide. He curled up under the blankets, body motionless. Swiftly, I made sure he was fully covered and protected from the sunlight. “Lady, I—”

  “You insult me and my hospitality by bring an unnatural creature of the night into a place of light.” The Lady hissed, and the house itself began to glow. Sunlight, soft at first, lit up all the walls and ceiling.

  “I would never insult you. You don’t know what’s going on. I can explain.” I rose upon my knees on the bed on top of Nicolas to protect him. There was nowhere for him to flee. He squirmed, groaned, and a faint odor of burning flesh touched the air.

  “Explain?” The Lady roared. The house shook and grew brighter. “You’re shirtless. Your spots are black.” I flinched at that. How much did the Lady know about me, about Phages? “If you do not move, I will not spare you.”

  Nicolas let out a cry of pain. The blankets only muted the sunlight, but it was still cooking him underneath them.

  She could take him from me. I couldn’t let her do it.

  “Lady, please.” I begged, clasping my hands. “He’s not evil. He’d never harm anyone. Please stop.” It grew brighter and hotter, and he screamed again, twisting under me. “I’m not going to move. I’m not going to move!”

  I squeezed my eyes closed against the bright light and readied myself for something, anything, but it didn’t come. The house seemed to breathe out a sigh of relief and lost its luminescence. Even the Lady’s glow dimmed to something akin to a cloudy autumn day.

  “You didn’t move.” The Lady mused and regarded me with interest when I opened my eyes.

  “I didn’t move.” I nodded once, not relaxing. I’d be an idiot if I did.

  The Lady made a motion with one hand toward me.

  “Last night, to save Aleo and his sons, I had to feed on the grief of a mother who lost her baby. Svetla, one of the local Rusalka. She was so lost to it she would have killed them. It made my spots turn.” I hugged myself, covering my chest. I had my bra on, but I never went without a shirt. I felt bared to the world in more ways than one.