Bound by Blood (The Garner Witch Series) (11 page)

“It’s beautiful,” I murmured, instantly in love with the house. It was large, though not a mansion. The house wasn’t ostentatious, but it screamed with character. It looked like a home filled with love, and it was literally humming with a positive energy. I felt a warmth spread in my chest as I took it all in.

“Is this your house?”

“Do you like it?”

“I love it. There’s just something about it... I can’t put my finger on, but I love it! It’s so warm, and welcoming.”

“No, it’s not my house, but I have very fond memories in this house.”

“Oh... it’s your family’s home,” I surmised from the nostalgic tone of his voice.

“No. In fact, it is your familial home. It was your grandmother’s, and her mother’s before that, and now it belongs to you.”

“Mine?” I looked at him, and then back at the house.

“Yes. It is always left to the oldest daughter of the oldest daughter. That was Morganna...” He hesitated briefly with sadness. “Now, it is you. I have been taking care of it awaiting the return of your family.”

I felt the tears pool in my eyes, waiting to be released as I struggled not to cry. I was so overcome by emotions I didn’t know how to react. “This,” my voice cracked, “is the house where my mother grew up?”

“Yes,” he reached for my hand and asked hesitantly, “would you like to go inside?”

Did I want to go inside? I wanted to
run
inside. I was desperate to learn anything I could about my mother. But for some reason I couldn’t get my feet to move.

“I never knew my mother; she died when I was a baby.” Tears fell silently as I spoke. “I asked my father so many times to tell me about her, but he never would. I think it was too painful for him. I stopped pressing because it made him so sad when I mentioned her. You’re giving me what I’ve always wanted, a chance to know a little bit about her…about our family. I don’t know how to thank you.”

“Do not thank me yet. I have too much to explain,” he nodded toward the house, “inside.”

An inner turmoil raged inside me as he led me inside the house. Nervousness about what he had to divulge, but also eagerness to learn more about the family I had never known.

Inside was just as beautiful as the outside. The first thing I noticed was the sixteen-foot ceilings; it made the room look larger than it was, and yet, strangely inviting. The furniture was all oversized with exaggerated curves, plush upholstery, and luxurious patterns. The woodwork in the room was meticulously carved and cultured mahogany. The overall arrangement of furniture, draperies, and fabrics were simultaneously elegant and comfortable.

The house was stunning, but what really drew my attention were the pictures scattered all around the walls. There was one in particular attracting my interest. It was an oval frame near the ornately carved fireplace, and it held a photo of a woman I recognized instantly as my mother.

“Your mother,” Nathan said, interrupting my thoughts, “was beautiful. You look so much like her.” He watched me trace my fingers affectionately across her smiling face.

Suddenly, I was overtaken by an uncontrollable burst of sadness for the loss of the mother I never knew. He brought my hand to his mouth, brushing his lips across the surface. I was taken aback for a moment by the compassion in the subconscious gesture; he seemed unaware he’d done it.

“Let me show you around.” Taking my hand he started our tour.

“Lead the way.”

“As I mentioned before, our ancestors have been devoted friends for generations. Before your grandparents passed away, they asked me to watch over the house. They always had faith everyone would be reunited one day.”

“My father told me my grandparents died before my mother,” I said, shocked. “Are you saying they didn’t?”

His expression was filled with compassion. “They died only a few years ago. Your grandmother passed first and your grandfather shortly thereafter.”

“I could’ve known them.” I swallowed the lump in my throat. Why would my father betray me this way?

Recognizing that I was hurting, he tried to console me. “Please understand, Brianna, your father was only trying to protect you. It was agreed upon by your entire family that everyone would separate and hide. No one was supposed to know where you were, including your grandparents. That is the only way they could ensure the information could never be coerced.”

“So, I have more family out there somewhere?” I could barely register what I was hearing. Maybe I wasn’t alone after all.

“Yes, you do. Your mother had sisters who were also killed, and they had daughters as well. You have many cousins, although I do not as yet know where they are.” He hesitated. “In fact, she also had cousins who went into hiding as did their children.”

“This is unbelievable. My father always said it was just us. And now I find out I have a large family out there somewhere. Why are they hiding? What’s going on?”

“Your mother was murdered, Brianna,”—he watched my face closely—“as were her sisters. Your family was being systematically hunted down and killed. Finally, after your mother’s death, the adults convened and decided the safest thing to do would be to separate and hide.”

“My mother was murdered?” I felt like I’d been punched in the stomach. Though once the initial wave of misery passed, something else started to build inside me. Anger.

“Did they find the person who murdered her?”

“No, the authorities were mystified by how they were killed. Your mother and three of your aunts were all murdered by the same man. The killer drained their blood completely without leaving a mark on the bodies. The police had no evidence and no leads.”

“They were killed the same way as Morganna and the other victims I’ve been investigating? How is that possible? Do you think somehow it’s a copycat killer after twenty eight years?”

“No, Brianna, I do not. I think it’s the same killer.”

“That’s impossible. Our profilers believe the killer is around thirty years old. If it were the same killer, he’d be an old man—too old to have the strength necessary to kill.”

“That’s because you are assuming the killer is a human.” His ominous words hung in the air.

My heart rate skyrocketed at his words, and the vehemence in them. “And you don’t believe he’s human?”

“No. I
know
he is not.” He hesitated for a moment before squaring his shoulders. “The killer is a vampire.”

 

Chapter 8

I laughed. “Nathan, I hate to tell you this, but there is no such thing as vampires. And since we’re on the subject of fictitious characters, I feel it’s my duty to tell you about Santa Clause—he’s not real either,” I whispered. “I understand where you came up with this theory, though. I mean, the way the victims were all killed is like something straight out of an Anne Rice novel, but this is reality.”

“Brianna, I realize this is difficult for you to accept, just as I warned you it would be. Nevertheless, the
truth
is that a vampire killed your mother, and it is the same vampire that has murdered the rest of your family.” His expression was sympathetic.

“I know I haven’t known you that long, but I’ve really grown to care for you,” I began, tentatively. “I can tell you believe what you’re saying, and I think...maybe...you should seek some help.”

“I am not crazy. I realize how this must sound to you, but it is the truth.”

“Listen. I’m going to say this one last time, and then I want you to drop the subject before I get angry. Vampires...do...not...exist!”

“Yes...they...do.” I had never seen him lose his patience like this. “I know they exist.

When I simply stared at him with a doubtful look, he continued. “I know, because…because I am one.” He straightened his spine and stared unwaveringly into my eyes as he made the declaration.

“You are one what? A vampire?” I didn’t know whether to be mad at him, or feel sorry for him. I sensed that he truly believed what he was telling me.

“Yes. I am a vampire.”

“Okay...you’re a vampire” I rolled my eyes. “Then, bite me.”

“Pardon me?” He looked affronted by the suggestion.

“I want you to bite me.”

“I am
not
going to bite you.”

“Uh huh. I thought not,” I retorted, smugly. “I think it’s time we leave.” I turned for the door.

Before I had the chance to take a single step, he was at my back. His actions so fast, I didn’t hear the movement. He grabbed the top of my arms firmly, but not painfully, as he leaned down and whispered in my ear. “I would not normally do this, but I am afraid you are one of the most stubborn women I have ever met.”

I felt his tongue on the side of my neck and my breathing stuttered. Although I was a little nervous about what he had planned, I was excited and stimulated at the same time. Despite what he’d just told me.

Without further warning, his teeth pierce my flesh. Strangely, there was absolutely no pain. In fact, it felt amazing. I moaned in pleasure as my body relaxed into his. Vividly aware of the masculine hardness of his body framing mine, and entirely incongruent to the situation, I knew I was safe. I felt him drawing the blood from my body, and beyond all reason, I wanted him to have it. With every swallow he consumed, I became more exhilarated. Euphoric.

I recognized the feeling, and the moment I did, reality came rushing back. With painstaking clarity, I recalled channeling Morganna’s last emotions as she was murdered. She had also felt euphoria.

Immediately, I tensed with fear at the memory. Nathan must have felt my sudden rigidity and guessed its cause, because he stopped and carefully took a step back.

“I had no intention of hurting you. Please do not be frightened. I could never harm you.” He was sincere, and I felt his anguish at the thought of scaring me. “I merely needed for you to recognize and accept the truth, and biting you was the most expedient way to accomplish that.”

My hand instinctively went to my neck where he’d bitten me. Though there was no pain, I could feel a mark marring the skin. I rushed over to the mirror and saw two small, but very distinct, puncture wounds. “But the victims had no marks on their bodies,” I mumbled, almost as though I were talking to myself.

He moved to approach, and I reflexively stepped back to face him. I had to admit, even though I could sense he wouldn’t hurt me, I was still nervous. His hands jerked up in response to my anxiousness, the gesture indicating he meant no harm. He was behaving as if I was a scared animal as he inched his way closer. I bristled at his delicate treatment of me—I could handle this.

I allowed myself to relax as he neared, though I watched him with increased vigilance. He scored his index finger with his fang—
oh God, he has fangs
—and I noticed a drop of blood well up on the tip. He smoothed his blood over the puncture wounds on my neck. The sensation that followed was strange; like pins and needles. When I turned back to the mirror, the marks were gone and the skin was perfect, as though they’d never existed.

I was shocked. “You’re telling me the truth.”

“Yes.”

“So, you’re telling me that not only do
vampires
exist”—I hesitated, finding it difficult to say the word—“but one of them killed my mother, and six other members of my family.”

He nodded in grave affirmation.

“Is that why I sensed an evil presence at Morganna’s apartment, because it was a vampire?”

“Vampires are not necessarily evil, Brianna. Do you sense evil inside me?” He arched his eyebrow patiently, knowing what my answer would be.

“No, I don’t.” I knew he wasn’t evil; every instinct in my body told me that he was good. Then a thought occurred to me. “Wait a minute. You were at my father’s funeral!” I practically bellowed.

“Yes, I already explained I was looking for you—”

“My father’s funeral was in the afternoon and it was sunny out. If you’re a vampire, how can you go in the sun?”

“Not all vampires are restricted by daylight.”

“But some are?” I was intrigued, and now that I knew he was telling the truth, I had a million questions.

“Yes, some are restricted by the sun. This could take a while to explain—would you like to go into the kitchen and relax? I will make you a tea and explain everything. How does that sound?”

“Good.”

A vampire making me tea? I snorted at the improbability of the situation.

“What is so funny?” he asked, placing the steaming mug in front of me.

“Nothing. Just experiencing a surreal moment. You were about to clarify a few things.”

He nodded. “Much of what you have heard about vampires is myth. I come from a long line of witches just like you. And, also like you, my family was targeted and annihilated by a vampire many years ago. I was attacked and left for dead when he drained me to the point of death. The only reason I survived was because it was so close to dawn. The vampire who attacked me began to burn as the sun rose, so he ran away leaving me only moments from death. I was barely breathing, but had enough energy left to summon The Goddess for assistance right before I lost consciousness.

“My only memory afterward was being discovered by another vampire. Only, for some reason, he was able to walk in the daylight—completely unaffected by the sun. He carried me to his home where he performed a Pagan ritual I was unfamiliar with, one where he had me drink his blood. The more I drank, the stronger I became until I was what I am now.”

“How is it the vampire who attacked you couldn’t go into sunlight, but you and that other vampire can?”

“That is a very good question, and it was one of the first questions I asked my sire.” He stopped to take a sip of his tea. “Vampires descend directly from one of the original twenty-five Akychi witches. The witch, adept in the art of black magic and greedy for power, cast a spell for immortal life. The spell also granted him superior strength, hearing, and smell, among other things. An element of the spell required he take a human life, and consume the heart and blood during the ritual.”

“Ewww. That’s disgusting!”

He looked amused by my outburst. “Do you want to hear the rest, or do you think it will frighten you too much?” He winked, teasingly.

Other books

El invierno del mundo by Ken Follett
Irish Journal by Heinrich Boll
Lighthouse by Alison Moore
Southern Charms by S. E. Kloos
Agony Aunt by G. C. Scott
Perla by Carolina de Robertis
Half Blood by Lauren Dawes
Bunker Hill by Howard Fast