Bloodspell (The Cruentus Curse, #1)(53)
As much as Lucian feared his brother's power, the vampires of the House were loyal only to Lucian. Once he found the witch from the prophecy, he believed he would have the power to finally eliminate Christian, and have total control over the Council and the vampire world. The Watchers had felt the shift in flow of magic that heralded the birth of a witch-queen, Lucian just needed to find her and find her quickly.
Christian tried to soften his voice, misinterpreting Lucian's silence. "Lucian, I am serious. This isn't a game anymore. Your flagrant disregard for the rules and our laws will only put the House of Devereux in jeopardy. The witch clans are uniting in retaliation, damn it!" He slammed his fist on the top of the desk in anger, unable to restrain himself. "That's what the Council is afraid of ... War. One we cannot afford."
Christian knew that the Council had the power to call him back to France to stay and that they would use it especially under threat of war with others. That was the one thing he did not want. He liked the life he had created for himself, he liked living according to his own rules, and he liked his solitude—away from the very cusp of what made him despise his own nature. Their ways, Lucian's ways, were not his ways.
And when he thought of the inevitable danger for Victoria because of Lucian's actions, it only made him further incensed.
"Your torture and murder of people you believe to be witches in search of this ridiculous prophecy. It will be the death of us all."
"Are you finished?" Lucian said.
"I'm just getting started!" He was in Lucian's face now and he could see a muscle starting to tick in Lucian's jaw even as he continued to feign boredom. "The prophecy is a legend, it's a myth! You're letting Le Sang Noir destroy you in your obsession to find it. Leave it alone Lucian. If this is about you and me, I already gave you my rights to the House of Devereux. It is yours! Don't you understand? I. Don't. Want. It." Christian punctuated the last sentence with sharp jabs on Lucian's chest.
Lucian's eyes flashed fire and his fingernails dug into his palms as he fought to restrain his anger. "How dare you? You have no concept of what is at stake, hiding away as you've been in some desolate little North American town with mortals for companions! The Watchers have foreseen it. Everyone is looking for the witch. I'm just taking the necessary steps to find her first!"
His tirade continued, spit flying from his mouth as Christian stared at him in stunned horror. "So what if the witch and warlock clan leaders are approaching the Council in negotiations? After I find Le Sang Noir, it will be a moot point. They will all eventually be under my rule! It's too bad that the Watchers failed to track the witch ... her magic has until now concealed her from them, but that doesn't mean they won't find her. It's only a matter of time, mon cher frère." He spat the last three words like bullets.
"Is that what this is about? Power?"
"What do you think it's about? You never cared for any of it, for me or for what I wanted—" Lucian broke off as if he'd said too much, and composed himself with a cold smile. "Who cares about those witches anyway? They are just like humans, only they taste a thousand times better. Cattle," he said derisively. His glare was vicious and his next words deliberately provocative. "After all, what do you care? I let your witch live, didn't I? But maybe I need to pay her a personal return visit to see whether you're hiding something from me, to see if she's the one after all—"
"YOU WILL NOT TOUCH HER!"
Christian leapt on top of Lucian, crashing them both into the wall of the study and sending a hundred books flying.
The noise was deafening as the wooden panels split under the force of their bodies. Lucian delivered a vicious kick to Christian's stomach hurling him across the room. As Christian vaulted to his feet, Lucian brandished a wicked-looking cane that was sharpened on one end and tipped with silver. Christian's eyes narrowed.
A loud banging on the door followed by worried shouting ensued. Christian and Lucian slowly circled each other, Christian's jeering expression daring Lucian to call for help. As Lucian passed the doorframe, he shouted that anyone coming through the door would die. He twirled the cane in his hands, irritated that Christian barely looked perturbed by the weapon. Lucian shot forward, the silver tip of the cane piercing Christian's thigh. Christian grimaced.
"Like my little pleasure tool?" Lucian asked. "I use it on vampires who don't know their place." They continued to dance around each other so fast that their movement blurred.
As Lucian slashed the air with the cane, a thin diagonal line of blood welled across the chest of Christian's white shirt. Beneath the torn material, his skin knitted back together in seconds. Christian crouched low and waited for the right moment before feinting left and kicking Lucian's feet from under him. He grabbed the cane out of Lucian's hands, and as Lucian fell back on the floor, Christian was on top of him in a flash, his fists hammering in blind rage. He could feel the bones shattering under the force of his furious blows, and as he felt the rage drain out of him with each successive strike, Lucian's bloodied face swam into focus.
Christian stood up, bringing Lucian up with him and watching as his brother's broken brow bone, nose and jaw mended themselves, the pulverized face reforming perfectly and the broken skin healing before his eyes. In moments, Lucian's features were unmarred except for the blood that remained on his face and spattered on his clothing. His expression was dark with hatred.