Текст книги "Alasdair"

Автор книги: Ella Frank

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Текущая страница: 13 (всего у книги 15 страниц)

Present Day—Elias’s Office 

ELIAS COULDN’T TEAR his eyes away from the woman—no, the female—bound to his chair. She looked terrible, which was hard to imagine of the Isadora he was accustomed to. This was a woman who’d captured his attention the first instant he’d seen her.

But that was before. Before his life had changed. And what he was seeing now was blowing his fucking mind.

Isadora was a vampire.Is, he corrected himself. She is a fucking vampire, and not just any vampire—she is the one.

“Although I’m flattered, I’m hardly thinking of you in the same light, Elias. But you needn’t look so startled. I think, if anyone should be appalled at all of this, it should be me. After all, I’m over two thousand years old and you managed to overpower me. How did you do that, by the way? Or are we going to sit here forever in saturnine silence?”

Elias ignored that she’d read his mind and instead replied, “I’m still digesting the idea that I was created to eliminate a mistake. And that mistake was you.”

“Excuse me. So, I’m a mistake?” Isadora asked, one of her perfectly shaped eyebrows arching. “I don’t seem to recall you thinking that when you would worship me on your knees for hours at a time. So why not cut the bullshit and tell me who sent you, Elias.”

Their eyes remained locked, and he caught a flicker of fear in their dark depths. Then he replied, “Someone more powerful than you.”

1902—London, England

ALASDAIR HAD THE man cornered before Leo could blink. So he jogged after him and moved up beside them to get a front-row seat to what was about to happen. 

Although he knew Alasdair fed, likely on other humans, Leo had never seen him do it. Well, except for the image he’d once pushed into Leo’s mind that one time. But this…

This felt totally different.

Leo’s adrenaline pumped through him, and he wasn’t sure what exactly was driving him to feel the way he was. 

The sensual way Alasdair stroked the back of his fingers down the man’s cheek? Or the way the man straightened against the brick wall, allowing Alasdair to move in closer? 

Sex and arousal were swirling around them as effectively as the smoke from the cigar, and then the duke dropped it to the ground, forgotten. His cheeks were flushed, and when Leo looked down his body, a solid erection was outlined in the duke’s pants. It was obvious he was extremely attracted to Alasdair, who was now pressing their bodies firmly against one another. But if there’d been any doubt, the groan Leo heard when Alasdair placed his lips by the duke’s ear dispelled it in an instant. Alasdair hadn’t said anything yet, hadn’t even touched the man, really, but Leo had the distinct impression the duke was ready to come.

Not that I can blame him, Leo thought. Alasdair was a true creature of the night. He made a person want to do things and see things he’d never imagined, and Leo was hard just from watching him.

“I saw you tonight,” he whispered in the duke’s ear. “Watching me.”

The other man swallowed, and Leo wondered if he was nervous due to his arousal or because Alasdair gave off an overwhelming sense of danger. It was probably a heady combination of the two. 

Alasdair’s tongue came out then and traced along the man’s jawline, and Leo heard his own breath catch. 

“Is this what you were imagining when your eyes were greedily taking in every inch of me?”

The duke pushed his hips forward, making it clear which inches he was most interested in, and when Alasdair shoved him back and ground his hips over the man’s, Leo reached down to palm his own cock. 

This was so wrong. He knew that, but he couldn’t stop himself.

Alasdair hummed and the noise seemed to stroke the nerve endings running along the length of Leo’s dick. Because, even though Alasdair wasn’t touching him, Leo felt as though that tongue and the hands now moving down to the duke’s pants were all on him. 

“It must get so lonely living in town with the duchess. Especially when you prefer cock over cunt. Does she mind, I wonder? Does she know?”

The sounds of rustling material and heavy breathing were all that could be heard—until Alasdair got ahold of what he was after. The duke’s head fell back against the wall, and he jutted his pelvis out.

“Ahh…yes. It feels good, doesn’t it?” Alasdair cooed as he trailed his eyes over the exposed throat in front of him. 

Leo’s eyes followed the same path, and he felt sorry for the man being so superbly manipulated—until he groaned again. Then Leo’s sympathy went out the window, and fierce jealousy shot through him instead. He hadn’t gotten this far with Alasdair, not once, and he was pissed off that he had to stand there and watch this.

“You are by far the most handsome man I have ever seen,” the duke confessed.

A seductive sound that could’ve been taken for humor left Alasdair as he put his lips to the base of the duke’s throat. Then the words, “Ne, I know,“ fell from Alasdair’s mouth. And without any more talk, Alasdair lifted his head and struck like a cobra. 

He sank his teeth into the side of the duke’s neck, and a shout of agony came from the man who, only seconds ago, had been groaning for other reasons entirely. 

The sound of Alasdair sucking and growling as he pinned the man to the side of the building should’ve appalled him. Leo thought he would have been terrified, but instead, his dick got harder.

He couldn’t explain it, not if anyone had asked, but seeing this side of Alasdair was a hell of a turn on, and he wasn’t sure what that said about him. 

Alasdair’s arm started moving, and Leo knew he was still stroking the duke’s shaft as he viciously fed from him. Blood stained the duke’s crisp, white shirt, and his shouts of pain changed to cries of confused pleasure.

Whatever horror had come from that initial bite had now altered into some kind of euphoric bliss. His eyes had rolled back, his hips were fucking against Alasdair, and he was drifting into a sweet, sweet death. 

“Leonidas Chapel.”

The unfamiliar voice was like a lightning bolt to his brain. It pulled him from his trancelike state and had him spinning on his heel to see if anyone had followed him outside. But no, no one was there. And when he turned back to where Alasdair and the Duke had been standing, all he saw was darkness. 

Leo’s erection subsided as fear of the unknown crept in. “Who’s there? Who are you?”

“Perhaps the question you should be asking is: Who are you?”

A splitting pain shot through his head, and then a flash of Alasdair appeared before his eyes—him and the duke, just as they’d been a second ago. 

Then the screams started. 

Loud, fearful cries into the night air.

Alasdair clamped a hand over the man’s mouth. The duke twisted and writhed against Alasdair, now realizing his life was coming to an end. Then Alasdair ripped his mouth away from his neck, brought both hands to the Duke’s cheeks, and tore his head right off his shoulders. 

Leo gasped at the gruesome action and covered his mouth as his stomach turned. Then the image disappeared. 

“He is not what you imagine him to be. You have been shown this for a reason.  You, Leonidas Chapel, were created to stop him and his kind. You and two others. We have been waiting for you.”

But before Leo could say a word, he woke up.

Present Day—The Lair

ALASDAIR FOLLOWED BEHIND Eton and Diomêdês, who were carrying Thanos down the east corridor. Vasilios matched his stride step for step and hadn’t said two words to him since his question back in the Hall. The truth was, Alasdair could sense his sire’s volatile mood. He just wasn’t sure what he was most disappointed about.

Leonidas’s being back in the lair?

Isadora’s having been taken? 

Or—

Your bringing the human here in the first place, Alasdair. But perhaps we should refer to him by name, since we aren’t quite sure what your young male is.

Alasdair turned to look at his sire, and when he didn’t bother returning his stare, he lowered his eyes.

Oh, yeah. He’s pissed.

Vasilios wasn’t stupid. He would have seen everything he’d been trying to hide when he, Leo, and Thanos had arrived this evening. He’d been too preoccupied with his cousin’s condition to concern himself with concealing his thoughts. So finally, it had all tumbled free.

The first meeting with Leonidas. His strange ability to paralyze him and see his past. The fact that he was now out cold on Alasdair’s bed—

That is all rather interesting information. Don’t you think, Alasdair? Vasilios interjected into his thoughts.

Alasdair’s eyes flew up to meet the knowing ones of his sire.

Did you ever think that this may have been avoided had you told someone? Perhaps I should’ve let Diomêdês at you. It’s the least of what you deserve. Vasilios gave a manic grin, seeming to derive enjoyment from that thought.

He couldn’t blame him. He had been acting careless. Not thinking of the consequences of his actions when it came to Leo. But Alasdair had never felt such a pull to anyone the way he did with Leonidas, and even now, he felt it. It was almost as strong as the one to the male beside him.

 Know this, Alasdair: I do not care if you find him more fascinating. Though I doubt that would be so if you would’ve stuck your cock in him already. He cannot live. And if you do not take care of it, I will.

Alasdair tried to ignore the anger at the words he’d known were coming, but he couldn’t prevent it—it was there regardless. I understand.

Good. You have until dawn. Do whatever you must, but if I can hear his heart beating when the sun comes up, I will rip it from his body myself.

 As they stepped into Thanos’s bedchambers, all thoughts and discussion ceased as Eton placed him on the bed.

Vasilios took him by the arm, halting him, then said, “We shall discuss this more after we have seen to Thanos.”

Alasdair gave a stoic nod. “This won’t end well for him, will it?”

As the words left his mouth, Alasdair wasn’t sure if he was referring to Leo or Thanos. Or maybe he meant both.

 “No. I don’t think it will end well for any of us. But for now, let us concern ourselves with your cousin. We need him, and as is, he is useless.”

Alasdair walked over to the tray on the nightstand. Diomêdês had brought it in on their way there, and what was on it was enough to make even his skin crawl—a newly sharpened jeweler’s saw and a pair of metal shears. Beside those items sat a bottle of alcohol, and beside that a syringe full of morphine.

What was about to happen would be horrendous. The wound was so deep it was almost a given that it wouldn’t fully heal, and Alasdair only hoped Thanos remained unconscious for the duration.

“Let us begin,” Eton said as he reached for the saw.

 

LEO WOKE TO the sound of screams.

Not the terrified scream of someone who was witnessing something frightening. But the agonizing cries of someone who was quite possibly dying. The loud noise was low, and as it tapered off due to lack of air, a ragged snarl grit out at the end of it.

The sound was what nightmares were made of.

He opened his eyes, not convinced he wasn’t actually in a nightmare, and took in his surroundings. The room was dark from the lack of conventional lighting and the rich tone of the cherry oak walls. Two lit candles hung on either side of a door, and as the wax dripped down one of the long tapers, he didn’t have to think too hard to work out where he was.

This had to be the lair.

That’s what Alasdair called it, right? The place where he’d first held him captive.

It had that same feel to it. But he’d never been to this part before. This room was decadent—from the wicked invitation of the massive bed he was lying on to the black silk robe hanging over a plush, maroon recliner.

Leo scooted to the edge of the bed when another shout from somewhere outside had him jerking to a stop.

“I’ll fucking kill you! Kill you all!”

The shout was pained, the threat real, and it had him dashing over to the door to pick one of the candles up in case he needed to…

What? Burn a vampire? Yeah, good one, Chapel. They’re immortal. I hardly think a single candle is going to do much.

He pulled the heavy door open, relieved when it didn’t creak. The last thing he needed was to draw unwanted attention.

“Fuck you, Alasdair! Just fucking kill me and be done with it!”

The request, if it could be called that, was choked out, and the gasping breath of whomever it was indicated horrific pain.

When Leo reached the first door down the hall, Alasdair’s voice reached his ears, “Hold still, cousin. Let us get it done so you can heal.”

“I’ll never heal,” the first voice hissed. “Not from this.”

“You will live, and that’s what—”

“FUCK!”

The word was a thunderous bellow of suffering, and Leo reached for the handle. What the hell was Alasdair doing to this…

Wait. His cousin? 

Leo twisted the handle and opened the door, using his shoulder to shift the heavy wood. When he stumbled into the room, three pairs of inky, black eyes landed on him. The figures hovering around a large bed were unfamiliar to him, but as he gazed past them, he saw Alasdair straddling the prone form of…yes, his cousin.

When Alasdair lifted his head and his glowing, green eyes found him, Leo’s own widened. He had blood all over his hands and up his forearms. He looked fierce and wild, like an animal in the middle of a kill, but when Leo glanced at the other vampire, he realized he wasn’t feeding from him. He was holding him down while one of the others—

His thought came to a halt as his eyes flicked to the saw in the hands of one of the unfamiliar males.

It was dripping with blood.

He then returned his attention to the figure under Alasdair, and the sight that greeted him was macabre.

Like something out of a horror movie.

The long hair of Alasdair’s cousin, which he’d once thought a similar color to his own, was now streaked with blood, both dry and fresh. The pillow beneath his head was covered with the ruby-red liquid, but what was most grotesque of all was the man’s face.

Where he’d once had a handsome and youthful appearance, he was now howling like a beast and flayed open like a raw piece of meat. From the crook of his shoulder and up his neck, or what was left of it, and to his cheek, the skin had been cut away—probably with the dripping fucking saw.

Still frozen with his hand gripping the doorknob, Leo tore his eyes away from the butchered flesh as his stomach somersaulted. He wasn’t sure how much more he could take.

That was when Alasdair shouted in his head, Get out of here! Run!

The command left no room for argument, and even if he’d wanted to, the fierce expressions plastered on the other three vampires’ faces had him pulling the door shut and fleeing for his life.

FUCK, ALASDAIR THOUGHT as Leonidas slammed the door to Thanos’s room shut. The man’s timing was fucking horrid. Up to his elbows in his cousin’s flesh and blood, he could hardly chase the traitorous human down the hall. But Vasilios would have no such misgivings with leaving Thanos to die so he could track Leo down and put an end to him.

He needed to think and act fast if he wanted that honor for himself. Leonidas had to be eliminated, but not before he got some fucking answers.

“Vasilios,” Alasdair said, knowing it would be much more effective than a voice in his head.

“He is awake,” his sire stated, so slowly that Alasdair suspected he was about to be in as much pain as the man he was holding down was. “You said he was passed out, no threat.”

“He was.”

Vasilios kept his eyes on him.

Alasdair pushed into his mind: It’s the truth.

“Go now. Take care of it. One way or another, that human will be dead by dawn,” he vowed as he moved back to the bed with Eton and Diomêdês. “Thanos, we have one more infected piece of skin to remove. You will live, but perhaps you too will wish you were dead by sunrise.”

Alasdair backed away from his cousin and the Ancients, and as his back hit the door, Vasilios said to Eton, “Don’t let him move. This is going to fucking hurt.”

THE SMELL OF burning flesh, where the silver was seeping through her skin and poisoning her forearms, was starting to make Isadora’s stomach turn. Her head felt fuzzy, her limbs weak, and as her vision blurred, she said, “Tell me who sent you. How did you know what would stop us?”

The man she’d once thought would be her perfect equal came over to stand behind her. He leaned down and when his warm breath breezed over the back of her hair, she shut her eyes and remembered another time they’d been alone together in an office of his.

Ten years earlier

“DON'T TEASE ME, Elias.”

The sexy man in front of her slowly got to his knees. Then he raised his head and gave her a grin that could rival the most immoral sinner—and she should know, having been sired by one.

“Don’t tell me you aren’t enjoying yourself, Isadora. Your sweet pussy tells me otherwise.”

The door to his office was locked, and she had her back against it and a leg over one of his wide shoulders. Her black skirt was scrunched up to her waist, and when he’d gotten on his knees and pulled her lace panties to the side, a delicious throb had pulsed between her legs.

His tie was shoved over his other shoulder, and with his black hair mussed from her hands, he looked sexy as fuck.

“It’s talking to you?”

One of his fingers traced a teasing line between her soaked lips and then dipped inside before he pulled it out and sucked on the tip. “Oh, it’s saying something, all right.”

A seductive laugh slipped free of her lips. “And what’s that, Mr. Fontana?”

He grinned, the expression so fucking filthy she wanted to push him on the ground, rip his pants off, and sink her teeth into his neck. Then she wanted to ride the thick cock she’d swallowed only last night until she reached the orgasm he was withholding from her.  

“It’s saying,” he whispered, angling his head until she couldn’t see his eyes and could only hear him say against her pulsing cunt, “eat me.”

“YOU AND I are made much the same, Isadora.”

His voice in her ear pulled her from her memories, and she twisted her head until they were practically nose to nose. His eyes, that same unnatural silver they’d been when he’d realized what she was, still shone at her, and it reminded her that this was not the same man she’d once known.

“We are nothing alike.”

“Ahh, but that’s where you’re wrong.”

She pulled her face back from his. “Are you saying that you too are…vampire?”

The smirk on his face made her want to rip it off, even if it meant taking his head with it.

“No, but I’m happy to hear you finally admitting to it.”

She swallowed. Fuck him for having all the control. And fuck him for smelling so delicious. “Then what are you?”

“Today, I am your master.”

LEO SPRINTED DOWN the hall to the room he’d stepped out of minutes ago. He shoved at the door and thanked God that it opened. Then he slammed it shut and leaned back against it. His breathing came in rapid bursts as he tried to banish the image of blood and gore from his mind.

Jesus. How the fuck can I ever banish that? And how the hell am I ever going to get out of here?

Not only had the three with the black eyes looked like they wanted to murder him, but Alasdair’s voice when he’d told him to run had been full of…anxiety. Which was worrisome. Alasdair wasn’t one to worry. He was usually confident and ready to tell him that he wanted to kill him.

So, if he felt his life was in danger, the threat must’ve been real.

He let his eyes scan around the room again, searching for something he could push or drag over by the door to keep them out—but then he thought better of it.

They can fucking appear in a room. Like a bookcase is going to keep them out. He shook his head and decided to hide on the far side of the bed instead.

It was a useless attempt to avoid his inevitable death, he was sure. They would no doubt smell where he was the second they were in the room, or maybe even from outside, but he had to try. He huddled down and thought back to the erratic dreams he’d woken from.

What had they all meant? And if someone out there in the cosmos really thought he could stop the beings down the hall, they were fucking insane.

“Leonidas?”

Alasdair.

Leo didn’t move a muscle as he sat with his knees pulled up to his chest and his arms wrapped around them.

“I know you are in here, file mou. I can hear your heart like the first night we met. Remember?”

Leo remembered, all right. He was starting to wonder if he’d ever be able to forget. The way Alasdair had chased him through the bathhouse and pinned him against the column would be forever engrained in his mind. As was the way his body seemed to respond whenever the vampire was near.

That night, Alasdair had told him that his heartbeat was like a beautiful melody as it beat: Thump, Thump—

“Thump.”

The word was said so close to his ear that Leo’s head snapped up, and he saw Alasdair standing directly beside him.

He looked awful. Leo took in the blood all over the chest and the arms of his shirt, and tendrils of fear twined around his nerves. He wondered what was about to happen as he stared up at Alasdair, but he didn’t have the courage to ask. They hadn’t exactly parted on great terms, and after what he’d seen in those visions, he wasn’t sure what to expect next.

Sure, before he’d passed out in his kitchen, they’d been about to, as far as he was aware, make out. But before that, Alasdair had been accusing him of being someone he wasn’t.

Fuck, maybe he was right.

“I am right. The question is: Who and what are you?”

The clipped and calm way he’d said that had Leo thinking his time was limited, and before he thought better of it, he scrambled up to his knees. Maybe begging would help, and fuck it, after what he’d seen and heard, he wasn’t too proud, knowing death was likely coming for him next. 

“I don’t know. I swear. I have no clue what’s happening to me. Or…or how I see the things I see.”

Alasdair crouched so they were on the same level. “You know, I almost believe you.”

“Because it’s the truth,” Leo rushed out, and then he did something he never would’ve dared to days earlier. He grabbed hold of Alasdair’s shirt, not caring that it was covered in blood. “Earlier, when we…when I passed out, I had no control over that. I don’t even know how it happened. Usually, it’s quick, like a flash of a vision. But this time, I saw days. Different times, different moments. Why would I tell you that if I was trying to hide something?”

When Alasdair said nothing, Leo continued.

“I saw you in Greece. I saw your fiancée, for Christ’s sake. Then I saw you with Vasilios, when you vowed to be his.” Leo paused and twisted his hands in the material, pleading with Alasdair to hear the truth in his words. “I also saw you with the Duke of Essex.”

Alasdair clasped his wrist hard. “How do you know all of that?”

“I don’t know. But I know,” he answered, hating that his voice wavered. Leo winced as Alasdair rose to his full height, making it impossible for him to do anything but stand. “Where are we going?”

“Be quiet.” Alasdair strode towards a side door, where he flicked a light on.

Inside was a large bathroom with a tub, a shower, and a basin. As they entered, the door whooshed shut behind them without any assistance.

More freaky vampire shit. 

Alasdair reached into the shower and turned it on, and as the water rained down on the tiles below, he faced him and removed his clothes.

Leo’s mouth fell open, and he took a step back until his ass bumped into the sink.

“What are you doing?” Leo immediately wanted to take the words back. Obviously, he’s taking a shower, idiot. It just seemed like such a…human thing to do.

Alasdair remained silent as he peeled his shirt from his body and tossed it aside. The hard expanse of his skin came into view, and Leo had to bite his lower lip to keep a sigh of pleasure from leaving him. He wondered if that skin was as smooth as it appeared—or as hard, for that matter.

When Alasdair’s hand went to the button on his pants, Leo was horrified to find himself hoping, above all else, including his short time left in the world, he would unbutton them and push them off his hips. And when he did, Leo’s breath caught in his throat.

He’d seen Alasdair naked that time in Vasilios’s bedroom, but he’d been too overwhelmed to really look at him. That was not the case now. His eyes trailed down the ridges of his cut abdominal muscles to the thick thighs free of any hair. The cock jutting out towards Leo like a fucking arrow was impressive, long, and thick. The veins running its length made him want to get down on his knees and trace them with his tongue, and when Alasdair stood back up, he pinned him with a stare so effective it felt as though he had his hands on him.

You will stay here. Do not try to leave or you will regret it.

The voice in his head was the same as it had always been, but there was a certain edge to it now. One he hadn’t heard from Alasdair since the first night they’d met. It both frightened and excited him.

“Tonight’s the night, isn’t it? You’re actually going to do it. Kill me.”

It wasn’t a question, which was probably for the best. Because what he got in response wasn’t an answer but a clear declaration of fact.

“Yes. I am.”