Chasing Shadows(26)

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Nine





“Perhaps not,” I conceded, having known all along that the news would find its way into the vampire community at some point. “But I want to keep his secret for as long as I possibly can. If what I have heard about dhunphyr blood is true, I know that his status as my bondmate may not protect him entirely.”

“Sadly, you are correct,” my brother acknowledged. “There are those of us who would not have the same restraint as you or I—and while I will not lie to you and say I do not want him, my love and respect for you as my sister and my friend are too great for me to inflict such harm upon you.”

I stepped forward to stand in front of him again. “And for that you have my eternal thanks, Lochlan. I mean it.”

The self-control he was exhibiting had to be taking an enormous toll, and I could tell from the wild look in his eyes that Loch needed blood before his control snapped and he did the very thing he had just promised he wouldn’t do. I also knew that simply drinking microwaved blood would not satisfy him—he would need to feel the thrill of killing something, the power that came from taking a life, in order to put a dent in his bloodlust.

And because I would not allow my brother to go out and kill some other human in Mark’s place…

“Mark, we’ll be back in a few,” I said, taking Lochlan’s hand and leading him away.

For his part, Mark said not a word as he watched me walk my brother out the back door. I found him sitting at the kitchen table when I re-entered some minutes later, and saw in his expression that he was not surprised to see me return alone.

“Cow or pig?” he asked simply.

“Pig,” I said, lowering myself into the chair next to him. “One of the girls. One pig should be enough to satisfy him, and should sate his thirst for a good while. A cow would have been way too much, even as thirsty as smelling you made him.”

Mark reached for my hand and gave it a light squeeze. “I’m sorry, Saphrona.”

I returned his gaze sadly. “I’ll miss Belinda, I admit, but better her than you or some other human.”

“Then her sacrifice was not in vain.”

I nodded, then got up and retrieved our own lunch and brought it to the table. Although Mark ate heartily (he may still have been feeling the effects of blood loss), I found that I no longer had an appetite, and I only picked at my food.

Lochlan returned about half an hour later, and while he glanced at Mark with some longing, he no longer had that wild, hungry look in his eyes. As soon as he had shut the door behind him, he walked over to the sink to wash his hands.

“I took the body into the woods and buried it,” Lochlan informed us, speaking over his shoulder. “The smell of death should be gone from the barn by the time you bring the other animals inside.”

He turned the water off and then turned around slowly to face us, grabbing the hand towel and looking at me as he dried his hands. “I am sorry, Saphrona, that you had to sacrifice one of your animals to me. I will be sure to be well fed before I come over next time, if I am still welcome after today.”

I stood. “Of course you are welcome,” I said, walking over to him. “It makes me sad that one of my girls is gone, but it was for a good purpose. I’d rather you killed a pig than a human being.”

“Or your lover,” Lochlan added.

I nodded. “Or him.”

“Don’t you feed on human blood anyway?” Mark wanted to know.

Lochlan looked over at him. “I do, dhunphyr, but I do not kill,” he said. “I was an apothecary when I was turned, and I am still one today—although the modern term is ‘doctor.’ I have sworn an oath to do no harm, and although I have killed and do still drink human blood—which I acquire from the bio lab I work at—I have not taken a life in many years.”

“Much to Diarmid’s disappointment,” I said sourly. “The man has a dozen or more vessels, but still thinks nothing of snuffing out a human life every now and then.”

“Vessels?” Mark queried.

“Human donors,” I said, turning back to him. “People that are used over and over again without being turned. A form of slavery, if you ask me.”

“How so?”

“When a vampire drinks the blood of a human, if he does not kill or turn him he creates a blood bond that allows him to find the human at any time, in any place,” Lochlan replied.

Mark looked at me. “Like you did to me?” he asked.

I nodded as I returned to the table. “Yes,” I told him. “But you were a willing donor. Most vessels are not. They’re usually not aware of what’s going on, nor do they remember afterward what has happened.”

“How is that possible?” my lover pressed.

“Because a vampire has the ability to cloud the mind of any human being he comes into contact with. How is it that you are a dhunphyr, child, yet you know almost nothing of our world?” Lochlan queried as he joined us at the table.

Mark’s eyes flashed at being called “child,” so I reached over and took his hand in mine to calm him. “I was sequestered from the paranormal world from the moment of my birth,” he said in a low voice. “Hidden and protected after the woman who carried me sacrificed her life to one of your kind.”

“Lochlan, is it true that dhunphyr blood is a narcotic to our kind?” I asked my brother.

“You have tasted him, sister. You tell me.”

I glanced sidelong at Mark. “It could be that I want him because I haven’t had human blood in almost two hundred years,” I began, then looked back at Loch. “But even I know that isn’t true. While human blood is appetizing, I’ve been able to deny it for so long that I don’t even crave it anymore. Now that I’ve had Mark’s, however, I know that I’m going to be hard-pressed to not drink from him; his blood creates a sensation of euphoria that is unmatched by any blood I have ever tasted.”

“Have you bitten him while you f*cked him, then?” Lochlan asked, a sly smile forming on his lips.

Mark stood abruptly, knocking his chair over. I reached over and grabbed his arm as he glowered down at my brother. “Calm down. It’s nothing to get upset over.”

“He’s insulting you and I don’t like it,” Mark countered.

Lochlan sighed and sat back in his chair. “My question may have been a tad crude, but it was hardly insulting. I’m simply curious to know if what the stories say is true.”

Slowly, Mark turned and reached to set his chair upright, then returned to it. “Then you don’t know if it’s true what they say about my blood.”

“What I meant by stories are the tales of ultimate sexual gratification when feeding on dhunphyr blood while in the midst of coitus. As to the other stories, those of the blood being addictive, I’m afraid I do know,” Lochlan said. “You see, our father once had an addiction to dhunphyr blood.”

A hand flew to my mouth as I gasped. “Diarmid fed on dhunphyr? When?”

Lochlan looked at me. “Not ten years after he was first turned. His sire had bitten a woman with child and killed her, and Father took the child from her womb and killed it. I saw it in his memories at my Coming of Age.”

“And yet you still associate with the man?” Mark asked him. “How can you be involved with someone like him?”

My brother shrugged. “I am a vampire,” he said simply. “And the bond between a sire and his offspring, if you will, is not so easily cast aside.”

“Saphrona manages to live without him,” Mark pointed out.

Loch nodded. “That she does, though it is not idle speculation to say that if she had been turned instead of born she would not be so fortunate.”

“What about the dhunphyr—how do you know the blood was addictive? How did he know?” I wondered.

“Father’s memories showed me that after that first infant, he spent more than a year’s time hunting and preying on pregnant women, feeding on them to turn their unborn children and then killing the child,” Lochlan answered, shuddering as he recalled the memories. “He was eventually caught and threatened with extermination if he did not desist.”

“I’m surprised the Ancients didn’t just kill him outright,” I mused. “Wasn’t that law enacted about a thousand years ago?”

Lochlan nodded. “It was. But as you know, Father can be very… persuasive. Maybe not with you, dear sister, but he swore a blood oath to the Ancients that he would serve them for eternity if they spared his life.”

I scoffed. “Explains why he wants to be one of them so badly.”

Mark looked at me. “What does that mean?” he asked.

“The only way to get out from under the thumb of the Ancients would be to become one of them. Until then, he has to do whatever they tell him to do whether he wants to or not, unless they release him from the oath—which will happen on the twelfth of Never—or he’s killed permanently. That’s what swearing a blood oath means among vampires.”