Revelations in Blood Page 6

“Signore?” Enrico stopped a foot away from the bars. “Will you eat?”

  “No.” Forcing himself to sit up, Nic rubbed the back of his neck. “I am bonded. I promised my life mate I would not take any blood but hers.”

  Enrico stared down at the bottle in his hands. “I understand, signore. But…you do not look well.”

  With a sigh, Nic approached the bars. “I feel as if I have not fed in a week. What did they do to me? How long was I unconscious?”

  “Approximately five hours, signore. The Conclave’s doctor performed a thorough medical evaluation. With photos.” Enrico’s cheeks flushed, and he stared at his boots. “And took a dozen vials of blood for later study.”

  “Vaffanculo,” Nic whispered as he staggered back to his cot. “On whose orders?”

  Glancing up and down the hall, Enrico leaned closer and lowered his voice. “Antonio’s. But no one objected.”

  His muscles ached, and he leaned against the cold stone wall. “When will the interrogation continue?”

  “Tomorrow. The Conclave has all gone home for the night.”

  He clenched his fists, aggravating the silver burns from the handcuffs. As Enrico turned, Nic called his name. ”They are attempting to force me to take donor blood. The delays. The medical exam. The drugs.”

  Enrico turned around, took two steps closer to Nic, and clasped his hands in front of him. “I should not be speaking to you at all.”

  “Yet, you are here.”

  “You were always…kind, signore. Fair. You do not deserve this. I listened to every word today. I was…present for the medical exam.”

  Nic tipped his head back against the stone. Every violation opened another wound in his soul. Would he have anything left when they were done with him?

  Stepping closer to the bars, Enrico fixed Nic with a hard stare. “The Conclave is divided. Equally. They have been for some time. If you were to retain your position, you would be the deciding vote. Next month, they will hear arguments for and against lifting the prohibition on direct feeding from humans.”

  “Dio. How did the world change so much in such a short time?” Nic shook his head. “Or was I blind to what was happening under my nose before I was taken?”

  Enrico leaned so close to the bars, tiny lines tightened around his eyes. “Do not let them silence you, signore.”

  Before Nic could stop him, Enrico had rushed back down the hall. Seconds later, a heavy metal door thunked.

  Vaffanculo. What the hell was he supposed to do now?

  “Evangeline? E?”

  Sylvie’s concerned voice startled her, and Evangeline dropped the book she’d been reading. She’d found Dante Alighieri’s Inferno on Nic’s beside table, and though she couldn’t read the Italian text, the book was illustrated with the most intricate images. The heavy parchment spoke of the past, and Evangeline almost thought she could feel Nic’s hands as he turned the pages so many years ago.

  “Shite,” Sylvie said as she scooped up the old leather-bound volume. “Are you okay?”

  “I won’t be okay until Nic is home.” Evangeline dropped her head into her hands. “Bayard hasn’t heard anything?”

  Sylvie sighed. “No. He didn’t leave the Conclave on good terms. Apparently. And I can’t reach Vittoria or Carlo.”

  “Hurry. We don’t know how long she’ll be—”

  The memory fled before she could even process the whispered words, but her stomach churned, and she hugged herself tightly.

  When Sylvie set the book in her lap, Evangeline laid her hand on the woman’s arm. “Do you…uh…know Italian?”

  “Yeah. Why? You need something translated?”

  Opening the book, she flipped the ancient pages until she found the illustration she’d been looking for. A long river dotted with skeletal hands and skulls covered the page, with a small paragraph of text next to it. “What does this say?”

  “Through me, you pass into the city of woe. Through me you pass into eternal pain,” Sylvie said. “That’s the River Styx. That book is simultaneously the best and most disturbing I’ve ever read. And I’ve read a lot. Will you come eat something?”

  Evangeline ignored her question. “I wonder if there’s an English copy in the library.”

  “E. Look at me.” With her hands on her hips, Sylvie stared down at her, worry in the set of her jaw and her gentle frown. “You haven’t eaten all day. When Nicola gets back, he’s going to need you. If you don’t take care of yourself, you can’t help him.”

  Tears burned the backs of her eyelids. She’d tried to distract herself all day, but between the vague nausea she still carried and her exhaustion, she hadn’t been very successful.

  “I want to check the library. But after that, I’ll try to eat.” Though Evangeline didn’t think she should be able to, she could smell whatever Sylvie had cooked. Something rich and almost sweet.

  “Ten minutes. I expect you in the kitchen in ten minutes. Got it?” Offering her a hand, Sylvie pulled Evangeline to her feet. “Or I’m afraid you’re going to pass out.”

  “She’s out. Get my bag.”

  Shuddering, Evangeline nodded as another memory threatened. What was happening to her?

  She managed to make it to the library off of Nic’s office without another bout of dizziness, and once she’d closed herself in the richly-paneled room, she inhaled deeply. Nic’s scent surrounded her, and she trailed her fingers over the cherry wood desk. Ornate carvings decorated the sides, and a soft leather blotter rested on top.

  He’d scribbled on a notepad, and she traced the bold strokes.

  Lazarus.

  Why would he write that? The name made her squirm, but she didn’t know why. “You’ve kept too much from me,” she murmured to the air. When he returned, they were going to have a serious talk.

  Turning to the bookcases, she caught sight of three wine glasses. A bit of pale liquid remained in two of them. Why did they look so…familiar? Unable to stop herself, she headed for the small table. One of the glasses had white residue crystalizing around the edges of the liquid and a bit of sediment in the bottom.

  Evangeline picked up the glass and sniffed. Bitter. The other glass didn’t have the same scent. The third was empty.

  “Sylvie!”

  Bursting through the door, she ran right into the petite bodyguard. “What is it, luv? You scared me.”

  “Who else was here last night?” She slipped back into Nic’s office and gestured to the glasses.

  “I only saw Vittoria. She dismissed me after she brought you dinner. Said you didn’t want strangers around. Bayard and I set the perimeter security and unpacked our things.”

  “You didn’t see me at all.” Fear had a hold of her now, and her voice cracked. “I…Vittoria and I had a glass of wine out on the patio. And…I think I had too much. Because the next thing I remember is you waking me up this afternoon. But…there’s a third glass.”

  Sylvie lifted the cloudy glass and her eyes narrowed. Bringing the glass to her nose, she took a single sniff. “Fucking bitch,” she muttered. “Right under my bloody nose.”

  When the bodyguard met Evangeline’s gaze, her eyes filled with pain. “I’m sorry, E. But…I think I cocked everything up.”

  “Why?” A ball of ice gathered in her belly. She knew. Somewhere deep inside, she knew exactly what Sylvie was about to say.

  “If you drank this,” Sylvie said, “and based on Vittoria’s lipstick on this other glass, I’d say you did, there’s a very good reason why you don’t remember last night.” She squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, and when she opened them again, her irises had darkened to a deep cobalt. “Vittoria drugged you.”

  Sylvie set a cup of tea in front of Evangeline. “I can’t reach Vittoria. Or Carlo.”

  “I am going to Carlo’s home,” Bayard said as he strapped a pistol to his hip. “Fils de pute.”

  Evangeline looked to Sylvie, who translated. “Son of a bitch.”

  With another handful of muttered French words, B
ayard pulled on his jacket. “Do not leave the house. I will be back as soon as I find the bastard.”

  “We’re not going anywhere. At least here, the security cameras will alert us to anyone coming up the drive and the motion sensors we set up last night will pick up anyone sneaking around.” Once Bayard shut and locked the door behind him, Sylvie ran a hand through her spiked hair. “I knew I should have stuck around last night. I’m sorry, E.”

  “You didn’t do anything wrong.” Evangeline couldn’t manage much more than a whisper. “Vittoria was here. I trusted her. We all did.”

  “Do you remember anything else?”

  Staring into her tea, Evangeline tried to remember the last thing she’d said to Vittoria. “She asked me if I wanted a second glass of wine. But…I was already feeling a little…weird. I said no. But she poured me one anyway. The sun was setting. And…then…I couldn’t move.”

  “Where were you?” Sylvie asked.

  Shrugging, Evangeline sighed. “I don’t know. That’s all I’ve got. But I don’t think I was downstairs. Just a feeling. Or…maybe the scent. I think I was in bed. It smelled like Nic. Shit. What did I do?”

  “Nothing, E. You were drugged. This isn’t your fault.” Sylvie tucked her legs under her on the chaise. “Now let’s try this again. Go back to last night. One step at a time. Let’s figure out what happened.”

  9

  Moments after the heavy metal door at the end of the hall thunked open, waking him from a dream of Evangeline in his arms, Nic staggered over to the sink to splash water on his face. He’d slept in fits and starts, nightmares haunting him.

  “Nicola.”

  The familiar voice shocked him, and Nic whirled towards the bars. “Carlo? What are you doing here? Is Evangeline safe?”

  “Si, capo.” Carlo looked like he hadn’t slept since Nic had been taken. “I do not have much time. The interrogation will resume in ten minutes, and you must tell Luigi and Antonio everything. They know about the Lazarus file.”

  “They decrypted the drive.” Nic sank back down onto the cot and dropped his head into his hands. “Merda. What did they learn?”

  “Mario did not tell me.” Carlo glanced down the hall as footsteps approached, then faded away. “But they have your blood now, Nicola. How much longer do you think you can hide Evangeline’s unique…DNA?”

  “I am not trying to hide anything.” Nic ran a hand through his hair, unable to keep the harsh edge from his voice. “She is not a subject for discussion. I did nothing wrong. I have no reason to keep secrets. I have answered every question.”

  Carlo leaned close to the bars, grimacing at the proximity to the silver. “You have told them nothing of Evangeline?”

  Narrowing his eyes at his closest friend, Nic could not understand why Carlo was in such a panic. “Only that she rescued me. Luigi vowed she would be protected. She is human and not subject to our laws. No matter what the Lazarus file says.”

  “Is she?” With another quick look down the hall, Carlo reached through the bars and grasped Nic’s arm. “You must tell them what Longo did to her. And…” His fingers tightened. “You must allow them to speak to her. Bring her here. Examine her.”

  “No!” Jerking his arm away, Nic forced himself to keep his voice down. “She will not be touched. Ever. You promised me you would keep her safe.”

  “Nicola—”

  “Why do you think I joined the Conclave, Carlo?” Nic paced his cell, resisting the urge to punch the wall. “Humans are innocent. Our laws protect them. Should protect them. Evangeline has nothing to do with my loyalty to the vampire race.”

  “Nothing?” Carlo arched a brow. “If you had to choose between protecting our secrets and saving her…”

  “There is no choice. She is my life mate. Any bonded vampire would do the same.” He huffed out a breath, tugging at the hem of his shirt. He felt dirty, violated, used. Blood stained his cuffs from the silver manacles, and every step ached.

  “You are not ‘any bonded vampire.’ You are a respected member of the Conclave. Third in line to lead. Young enough to retain your position for a millennium. You have power unlike any other, and you are bonded to a human. Give them what they want, mio amico. Allow a doctor of Luigi’s choosing to examine Evangeline. And ask for a leave of absence from your position. Per favore. Do not give them a reason to keep you here.”

  A door banged open at the end of the hall. Nic and Carlo both flinched. “Evangeline is not to be touched,” Nic said. “This discussion is over. Go back to Sorrento. Protect Evangeline.”

  Enrico appeared at Carlo’s back. “Signore, I am to bring you to the interrogation chamber for this morning’s session. Please turn around and give me your hands.”

  Without sparing his friend a second glance, Nic thrust his arms through the bars, wincing as the silver leached more strength from his limbs. He would need blood soon. A day at most. Losing a significant amount of blood without his consent hastened his need.

  The snap of the handcuffs made him flinch. As Enrico led him up the short flight of stairs, Nic glanced back at Carlo, who stood in the hallway, looking more like a lost child than a two-hundred-and-sixty-year-old vampire.

  The chamber door swung open without a word from Enrico, and the guard shoved Nic forward, all traces of kindness fading as the two of them came face-to-face with Antonio.

  “We are waiting. Secure the prisoner so we may continue the interrogation.” Turning on his heel, Antonio stalked back to the table, and Nic trailed his gaze over the eight men and women he’d once considered…friends. If they were truly divided, Enrico was right. Nic couldn’t trust anyone.

  After the guards had secured the silver manacles around his wrists and ankles again, Nic fought to slow his heartbeat and breathing. He couldn’t let the Conclave see his fear.

  “Is there some reason,” he asked, keeping his voice measured, “you felt the need to drug me for the medical evaluation? To delay the interrogation for hours rather than conclude last night? I came here willingly. Or would have. I have not resisted.”

  “For our safety. We needed to verify your story.” Malice dripped from Antonio’s voice as he stared at his tablet, dragging his finger over the screen. “Extensive silver-induced scarring on subject’s chest, abdomen, arms, and legs. Physical signs of long-term torture and restraint, malnourishment, and no access to sunlight, as evidenced by weak pupillary response.”

  As Antonio continued to read, Nic started to shake, tremors wracking his body like small earthquakes. Despite living through Longo’s experiments, hearing his pain described in such cold, clinical terms shattered the barrier he’d tried to erect around his memories.

  “Scars at the neck, wrists, and over the heart appear to be bonding marks, but it is obvious they were not made by another vampire,” Antonio said. “Blood samples show significant genetic mutation, indicating the subject is no longer, in the strictest sense, a vampire. He is something…other. Something…more. Further study is needed.”

  Nic’s mouth went dry. Not…a vampire? His fangs descended, as if desperate to prove Antonio wrong. How could he suddenly be…not a vampire?

  “And you wonder why we do not trust you?” Luigi asked, bringing Nic back to the present. Steepling his fingers, he looked Nic up and down, his lips pressed thin. “Tell us of this human you claim to have…bonded to.”

  “Evangeline is not a topic for discussion,” Nic said, lips drawn tight, exposing the tips of his fangs to the men and women in front of him. Let them prove he was not a vampire. He would not back down.

  Antonio pounded his fist on the table, making the rest of the Conclave members jump. “If you expect to see the sun again, Nicola, you will cease this little rebellion, and tell us how she managed to free you. How she managed to carry you, half dead, through the forest. How your actions led to the deaths of Pietro Vicci and Henry Longo.”

  Needles of pain stabbed at his wrists. His legs ached. They’d given him an impossible choice. Betray his life mate, violate
her trust, put her in danger, or never see her again. Would she be safer without him?

  Do not trust anyone.

  Carlo’s words haunted him. “Give them what they want, mio amico. Allow a doctor of Luigi’s choosing to examine Evangeline.” If he spent the rest of his vampire life in the Conclave’s prison, no one would protect Evangeline. Carlo’s hedging—and his presence here rather than with Evangeline—had practically confirmed that.

  Evangeline, I am sorry.

  Clenching his fists hard enough to bruise his palms, Nic forced himself to meet Luigi’s gaze. He wouldn’t give Antonio a second glance. If he did, he’d snap, and they’d never let him go. “Evangeline is stronger than other humans. Her bastard father,” Nic swallowed over the lump in his throat, “inoculated her with my blood. Repeatedly. Over the entire eighteen years of my captivity. This is how they manufactured the serum. He needed both of us.”

  “And this made her something…more as well?” Mario asked.

  She would not want anyone to know. But if his admission kept her alive…

  Nic tipped his chin higher, pushing his dark thoughts aside. He had no choice. Dio. He hoped she’d forgive him.

  “Si. Her blood…is stronger than a normal human. A few sips, and the wounds on my chest…wounds that should have killed me…healed in moments. But…she failed to save Pietro. I believe her blood is only a boon to me. Because of what Longo did to both of us.” Nic leaned forward, trying to beg Luigi without words to let him go. To honor his promise and protect Evangeline.

  “Continue, Nicola,” the elder said as he ran a hand through his thinning white hair. “We must know…everything.”

  Evangeline tried to concentrate on the book in her hands, but her stomach still hadn’t settled—even after Sylvie had made her something called toad-in-the-hole, a slice of bread with a fried egg in the center. Though she’d loved the first bite, even the second, by the third, she was too nervous to eat any more.

  Carefully setting the book—an older copy of The Canterbury Tales with yellowing pages—aside, Evangeline unfolded her legs and pushed to her feet. She swayed slightly, and Sylvie was at her side in a second, a steadying hand under her elbow.