Bloodspell (The Cruentus Curse, #1)(52)

Christian had mentally confirmed Lucian's whereabouts as soon as his plane had landed, looking for him at the apartment and at the chateau. The chateau was a sprawling seventeenth century estate seven minutes south of Fontainebleau, but they usually only used it for entertaining. Lucian's version of entertainment differed greatly from Christian's. He used the chateau to host his favorite type of party—hunting parties, only with humans as the prey. It disgusted Christian. And amused Lucian.

"They are people, Lucian," Christian had argued.

"They are food, dear brother. And the sooner you realize that, the sooner you will come to terms with who you are. A vampire. A killer."

It had been years since they had spoken about it, but Lucian still mocked Christian's overly tender sensibilities toward humans and had chastised Christian for denying what he was and his place at the top of the food chain. Nonetheless, they had agreed to disagree, and with Christian staying out of the leadership of the House of Devereux, Lucian simply did things his way.

Christian gave his coat to the silent housekeeper as he walked into the foyer. He noticed that she was human, and given the lurid combination of black, purple, brown and yellow bruises on her skin peeking out from beneath her stark uniform, he could see that she also served as the "entertainment" from time to time. It was so easy to attract them. Some humans loved the thrill of it as much as the vampires did, and lived for the chance to become one of them. His lips thinned into a tight hard line.

He hated everything this house represented. As much as he had come to a tenuous peace with what he was, every time he was in Lucian's home, the complete absence of humanity made him tremble with impotent rage at the reality that in the end no matter how much he tried to run from it, inside he was just like them.

As he moved through the coldly elegant rooms, he sensed something different that he couldn't quite put his finger on. The space felt shrouded, cloaked in something dark and shadowy. Christian shrugged it off; Lucian's house always brought out the worst in him.

He walked to the receiving room at the end of the hall. Lucian hated to be alone, so even at this early hour it was filled with a throng of vampires who grew quiet as he entered. Christian scanned the room for his brother.

"Ah," a deep voice drawled, "the prodigal brother has returned." Lucian stood and walked toward Christian, drawing him into a showy embrace and kissing him on both cheeks. He appeared pleased to see his brother but his eyes were dark and guarded.

In spite of their disturbing resemblance, Lucian was thinner than Christian. His face was narrow and gaunt, and the way his blond hair was cut short made his angular features even more skeletal. Like Christian's, Lucian's hooded eyes were gray and spiked with the same luxurious lashes, but they didn't convey the same warmth as Christian's did, especially when coupled with his full, but cruel-looking mouth.

Christian knew that Lucian had considered killing him many times but had never tried for two reasons. In the first place, he wasn't quite sure that he could. Secondly, he didn't want to incur the condemnation of the Council, which established the rules of vampire existence and united the seven Houses under their common laws. It was no secret that Lucian reviled the Council, and they in turn only tolerated him out of fear and because of Christian.

The Council was another topic that he and Lucian disagreed on—Christian believed in the inherent values of the Council and the structure that it brought to the vampire world, even though the Council still condoned the killing of humans and supported old archaic blood rituals that were little more than murder. For Christian, that was a small sacrifice in exchange for the way the Council laws prevented the chaos that would result if the Houses had made the laws themselves or even worse, hadn't followed any laws.

Christian looked around the room warily and his gaze fell on the stunning white-blond woman leaning on the wall at the far end of the space. Lena. She returned his look evenly, and tilted her head in an explicitly suggestive invitation, her blue eyes mocking, which he ignored.

"Perhaps we should talk in your study, Lucian." He turned back to his brother and inclined his head toward the audience. "And let your guests enjoy themselves."

As Christian walked out of the room, he noticed another woman standing in the shadows, who avoided looking in his direction. She was human, but held herself with an authority that belied the fact that she was surrounded by vampires who could kill her in an instant. Other than this commanding quality, she was nondescript with short, brown hair and a swarthy complexion.

He noticed that she had the same bruises on her arms as the housekeeper, another of Lucian's toys it seemed, although something seemed strange about her bruises, as if they were over her skin instead of beneath it. He shrugged again and dismissed her from his thoughts, following Lucian down the hallway to the study.

In the dark wood-paneled study, Christian helped himself to a large glass of Louis XIII cognac and sat on the edge of the massive, mahogany desk.

"So what brings you to town?" Lucian was brusque, his manner dismissive. But underneath, Christian knew he was curious. It wasn't like him to show up unannounced.

"I was requested to come before the Council."

"On what grounds?" Lucian asked, feigning indifference.

"On the grounds of your actions! You've gone too far this time, Lucian."

Lucian looked completely unfazed by the furious snarl in Christian's tone and stared disinterestedly at his manicure. But inside, his mind was racing. The Council would only have called Christian back to Paris to consider one thing—him assuming control of the House of Devereux because they were threatened by Lucian's recent actions.