BloodGifted (20 page)

Chapter 15

History Lesson

LAURA

Now what? I was still hungry and there was no way I could possibly go back to that kitchen while Alec was there. He had an unnerving effect on me. Would it be this bad every time he fed from me? I had a sinking feeling it would, especially as my thoughts kept returning to him in spite of any effort I made to steer them in another direction. They came unbidden even when he wasn’t drinking my blood.

I had a major problem.

Desperate to shake off my confused feelings, I decided to wander through the downstairs hall and came upon another set of stone steps leading up to a half-landing from which streamed a beam of coloured watery light. It indicated a large window. Curious, I followed them up and found myself staring open-mouthed at the image of an ancient Roman soldier.

I sat down
on the topmost step and leaned my back against the wall for a better look.

Within the confines of an exquisite
lead-lined window, the soldier—whom I recognised from last night’s ceremony as Marcus Antonius—stood to attention. One hand rested on a large rectangular shield at his feet, the other held a spear. The shield carried the image of a sword flanked by two coiled serpents, whose glowing red eyes were shaped like teardrops.

My breath caught in my chest. It was the same image as on my ring.

Hovering on either side of Marcus were eight smaller figures in Roman military uniform. I looked closer and recognised the faces of Alec’s friends—Terens, Sam, Cal, Jake and four others I didn’t know, or hadn’t met yet.

Hearing a slight noise behind me, I
turned to see Luc coming up the stairs.

‘You forgot these
,’ he said, and handed me half a breadstick and a fresh mug of coffee.

I blinked and refocussed as I gratefully took the food from his hands, the window temporarily forgotten
. Luc didn’t say anything. He sat down on the step next to me, leaned his back against the stone balustrade and watched me eat the breadstick. I thought I heard him murmur,
ma petite, ma fille
, once or twice.

‘Yes, that’s him.
Marcus Antonius Pulcher,’ he said as I glanced again at the window. He pointed toward it. ‘Your ancestor, my Laura.’

I stared at the image in renewed interest, barely re
gistering the way he called me, “my” Laura.

‘What you see on the shield—the two serpents—
represent his children, twins, a boy Lucius Antonius and a girl, Antonia.’

I was taken aback. Kids could be difficult sometimes, but it was a bit harsh to show them as snakes. Either he was a mind reader or my face betrayed my thoughts, for he gave a faint smile. ‘The serpent was not regarded as evil among the ancients. It was seen as a symbol of immortality, for it shed its wrinkled old skin and grew a healthy new one.’

‘Oh.’
What woman on the planet wouldn’t want to do that
, I thought.

‘You are directly descended from Antoni
a.’ He looked at me. ‘I was hoping I’d get the chance to tell you the story while you were here.’

‘Please do.’

Luc smiled and turning back to the window, began a story that started so long ago. This was my family history. ‘It happened in Britain nearly two thousand years ago. Marcus was a Roman military commander then, and he and his men were responsible for maintaining the peace in his part of the province—protect the Roman settlers; do daily checks on the villas and act as a deterrent to northern raiders, the Picts, or Prythin as they called themselves. They were a menace, raiding Roman settlements south of Hadrian’s Wall, burning homes, destroying crops, massacring the weak and infirm and taking the rest to sell as slaves in Ireland.’

He mentioned a people I’d never heard off. ‘I know of the Celts, but the Picts, who were they?’

‘The original inhabitants of the land, southern Scotland.’

‘Okay. Sorry I didn’t mean to interrupt.’

‘Not at all. It shows you’re interested.’ Luc smiled and then resumed the story. ‘On one routine patrol, Marcus and his men were themselves attacked and one of his soldiers seriously wounded, Nepos. He was sent back to the fort with Melander as escort, while Marcus and the others went in pursuit. They caught up with the raiders at a nearby village.’

As Luc
’s voice painted the scene, I felt myself drawn back all those centuries; like a silent witness to the tragedy about to unfold.

‘As Marcus and his men poured in they found the raiders had taken Roman captives. He intended
to rescue them and kill the raiders. Unfortunately, things got out of hand as that village was home to a powerful sorceress. She wanted the Roman captives for her sacrificial rites and when that was jeopardised by Marcus and his men, she slit the prisoners’ throats.’

I felt sick as the scene played out in my mind.

‘Take a drink,’ Luc suggested.

My coffee had gone cold and I realised I’d stopped eating.

‘Want me to go on?’ he asked.

‘Yes, please don’
t stop. I want to hear it all.’

‘Marcus was h
orrified and determined to avenge the slain Roman captives. He was about to burn down the village and sell the women and children into slavery when the witch cursed him and his men into what they are now. In retaliation, he and his men killed them all. From that day, the Curse began to take effect. By the time they returned to the fort they were no longer human. The first ones they killed were the night sentries on top of the walls.

‘
Those men were their friends, but all Marcus and his men saw were prey. They emptied them of blood then went in search of others, their thirst unquenchable and uncontrollable. They killed twenty-seven, then returned the next night and killed eighteen more, among them Nepos and Melander.’

I gasped. ‘Their own friends; the ones whom they sent back to the fort?’

‘That’s right. Those first few days of their transformation were the worst in their lives. The blood-thirst was impossible to control let alone resist. They were sickened and horrified by what they had done and some even attempted to end their lives, but their bodies healed almost immediately.’

‘What about
the people left in the fort?’ I asked.

‘There was absolute panic, of course. Everyone thought demons had come among them, from the way the dead men’s
throats had been ripped out. So the soldiers and their families fled and left the fort deserted for the next hundred years.’

I swallowed the bile that rose in my throat.

‘Wait here, don’t move,’ Luc said and rose from the step, ran down the stairs in a blur and within seconds was back with a glass of water. ‘Drink this,
ma petite
.’

My hand trembled as I took it
and drank half.

‘Feeling better?’

‘Yes, thanks. I’m not normally squeamish, but the way you tell it I almost feel like I’m there.’

‘Ready for more? Then eat, Laura.’

I nodded and nibbled at my breadstick. I felt as if under a spell. The history he related held me in its grip as the faces of Marcus, Terens, Sam, Cal and Jake stared down at me from the lead-glass window.

‘They went in search of a priest of Mithras, favourite deity of Roman
soldiers at the time, hoping he’d be able to remove the curse. But it didn’t work. Eventually they were told to call up the witch’s spirit and offer their own blood as a sacrifice,’ he said.

‘And did they?’

He nodded. ‘There was no other choice. They returned to the village, located her body, burned it and as the flames rose they sliced open their veins and let the blood drip.’

‘Did she appear?’ I never believed in ghost
s, but as of last Friday I had an open mind.

‘Yes, and
she was angry. There was no way she’d relent. You see, Laura, she had been pregnant.’

Pregnant!
No wonder she’d cursed him,
I thought.
But then her people attacked and killed his as well. What a mess. And Marcus, his men and my family have been paying for it ever since. As my students would say, that sucks big time!

I shook my head. ‘B
oth sides did wrong.’

‘There is a fine line between revenge and justice. Confuse the two and you only cause pain and suffering.’

‘For centuries,’ I added.

He nodded
again, let out a deep breath and said, ‘Marcus realised that, but she made one concession.’ He looked up at the window again and intoned, almost to himself:

‘What has been done cannot be undone. But this one thing I can grant. As one of my children escaped your sword, while hunting out in the woods, so will I spare one of yours. Your
wife will give birth to twins: Children of Light and Dark. The boy shall be as you, a drinker of blood, when he comes of age, but the girl will not. She will walk in the light. Long life will be granted her and her descendants. They will be known as Children of Light and their blood shall sustain the Child of Darkness. And you Roman, shall live all through the long ages ahead till one born of your house—a Child of Light and Dark—willingly bears a child to
one of Prythin blood, a descendant of my house.
For the child shall bear the mingled blood of Roman and Prythin—one race, one blood.
Only then the curse shall be lifted
.’

Luc
stopped and turned to look at me. ‘Those were her very words. To Marcus that would have been the ultimate humiliation: one of his house, of Roman patrician blood, intermarrying with a painted savage.’

I turned from staring at the window to Luc as
the realisation hit. Could it possibly refer to me? The curse presupposed Marcus’s descendant to be a woman. And it certainly didn’t refer to my aunt otherwise I wouldn’t have inherited the cursed gene.

Luc
mentioned a Child of Light and Darkness, whatever that meant. My parents were two ordinary humans—John and Eilene Dantonville—so it couldn’t possibly refer to them, nor to me, and as I was an only child, which meant it would have to be someone in the next generation—my child or grandchild—unless of course, I never married.

T
hat idea left me feeling hollow; I wanted to marry and eventually have kids, although the thought of one of my children being vampire food filled me with revulsion. Then another thought occurred to me—would Alec be their guardian? I suddenly saw myself fifty years from now standing on a sandstone platform handing over my white silk cloak to my child, much as my aunt Judy did with me. Would she—if it were a girl—experience the same attraction toward him as I did? Would he kiss her at the Ritual as he did me?

My stomach bunched into a tight knot
.

‘Laura, ar
e you all right?’ Luc asked. A flicker of concern crossed his face.

‘Yes, I’m fine, just thinking over
everything you’ve told me.’
And it’s beginning to sicken me
, I thought. I didn’t want to think about it let alone discuss it. ‘Her spirit then disappeared?’

‘No, she added that when the time came he and hi
s men would be given a choice—to remain as they are or become human again.’

‘Why
? Surely they’d choose humanity wouldn’t they? Wouldn’t you?’

‘Yes indeed, my Laura. Unfortunately, it’s not t
hat simple. Marcus and his men, and any whom they transformed, would start to age immediately as all the years of their lives catch up with them. They’d be dead within minutes. That was her idea of freedom!’

The sorceress certainly had her revenge. Whatever decision they made
condemned them in some way. Alec had told me Luc had changed him. But who had changed Luc?

‘Can I ask who transformed you?’

He hesitated a moment before answering. ‘Marcus’s son, one of the twins, Lucius Antonius Pulcher.’

I gasped. ‘That means
—’

‘
Alec and I will be given the choice.’

And what a choice! The horrible image of A
lec and Luc as wizened old men, aging, decaying and dying within a matter of minutes, whizzed through my mind. It was like something out of a horror film and I realised I didn’t want that to happen. Not to Luc—for my aunt’s sake. And not to Alec. I liked him, more than I should.

‘Then I hope it won’t happen for a long time yet!’ I said on impulse. Then the implications for us both
of what I said occurred to me.

He smiled. ‘I understand what
you mean and I’m flattered. We shall see.’

‘Did Marcus h
ave the rings made in the same image as on his shield?’ I asked, wanting to change the subject.

‘He did. Before her apparition vanished th
e witch made one final demand—to take from her ashes the golden medallion she had been wearing. It had the figure of a serpent on it—the symbol of Melusine, the Pict goddess of retribution and vengeance. It contained two unusual red stones for eyes. Marcus was to create two identical rings with the same image, split the stones and place two in each ring, as you can see.’