Chapter 15
FIFTEEN
lucien creed
“Is this it?” I ask, peeking over the wooden rails of the truck. We’re parked in front of a building that looks like the only reason it’s standing is because of the termites holding hands.
Cyrus shrugs. “I don’t know. However, I don’t feel anything powerful inside.”
“I’ll be back,” Simon says, slamming the door behind him. “Stella, stay with Cyrus and Violet.”
“Seriously, you’re going to leave me with two vampires?” she calls after him.
“It’s safer than what’s on the inside,” he answers, disappearing into the wooden shack.
“Asshole,” she mutters.
Cyrus looks at me. “Use your ability, Violet. What do you feel?”
I close my eyes, for what reason, I don’t know. The familiar energy of lycan is the first thing I notice. They feel strong, similar to Gideon. “I feel a lycanthrope,” I answer.
“Good,” Cyrus answers. “What else?”
My stomach grumbles as I feel around the building. In the corner, I feel something different. Not vampire and not lycan. “Something else.”
“What is it?” he asks.
I send my energy closer, trying to discover what I feel. “I don’t know. It’s…blocked.”
“They’re blocking their energy. Push through it.”
Concentrating on the shield surrounding whatever is inside, I mentally poke at the protection. No matter how hard I push, the shield won’t go down. “It won’t let me through.” I open my eyes. “What is it?”
“A witch,” Cyrus answers.
My eyebrows raise in realization. “This one feels different. Why?”
“It depends on how powerful they are.” He nods toward the shack. “Whoever that is undoubtedly knows we’re here and is strong enough to keep us out.”
I look back at the building. “Are they dangerous?”
He shrugs. “Possibly, or they could just be enjoying a beverage and ignoring our energy. If we feel them, they feel us.” I resist the urge to ask more questions.
Simon is back outside moments later. “He’s not here.”
“What does that mean?” Stella asks.
“It means he’s not here. Luckily, I know where he lives,” Simon answers, climbing back behind the wheel of the still-running truck. We pass several buildings that are clones of the one we stopped at. Most, likely serving drinks during prohibition.
The further we go, the closer together the buildings become. The sparse landscape is slowly being replaced with brick buildings, large older homes, and storefronts, before we stop again. This time, instead of a run-down speakeasy, we’re parked in front of the nicest house in town.
The three-story colonial-style home is perfectly landscaped, complete with flower baskets under each window. Two large bushes, trimmed into the shape of lions, guard the entrance while bright red flowers line the stepping stone walkway that leads to the oversized double front door.
“This is beautiful,” I whisper to Cyrus.
“Agreed,” he says, jumping from the back of the truck. I copy his movement, landing on the paved sidewalk next to him. Simon and Stella join us as we face the large home.
“Have you met this man before?” Cyrus asks.
“No,” Simon answers.
Cyrus’s head turns toward his friend. “Is he dangerous?” he asks.
“Maybe…”
My buyer’s sigh is loud enough that Lucien probably heard it. “He may not be a fan of lycan. It might be wise for me to do the talking.”
“What if he’s not a fan of vampires?” Stella asks.
“Then we’ll figure it out,” he answers.
“How about we all go?” I ask.
“Won’t that look intimidating?” Simon asks.
The front door creaks open, revealing a man who looks no older than me.
His hair is the color of snow and is the perfect accent to his dark skin.
His hair is brushed to the center and sticks up on the top of his head, and bright copper-colored eyes stare at each of us.
“You do know I can hear and sense you?” he asks.
His accent is one I can’t put a name to.
Familiar, yet unfamiliar at the same time.
The four of us stare at the beautiful man. “Hello,” Simon says with an awkward wave.
“Hello, lycanthrope,” the man answers. He opens both front doors with a grand display of flair. “Please, come in.”
Long fingers wrap through mine as Cyrus leads the four of us through the wrought iron gate and in front of our host. Releasing my hand, he holds it in front of him. “Cyrus Knight.” He bows slightly. “I am at your service.”
“Lucien Creed,” the man answers, shaking Cyrus’s hand. He looks past my buyer toward the rest of us. “Who have we got here?”
“Violet Du Four,” I answer.
“A lovely name for a lovely lady,” Lucien answers.
“Thank you?” I smile, not sure what the correct response should be.
He turns toward Simon. “You two are siblings, are you not?”
“Yes, sir,” Simon answers.
Lucien waves his hands. “Oh, my. Please do not call me sir. That is reserved for my father. Call me Lucien.”
“Simon Ward, and this is my sister, Stella.”
“Two beautiful women in one day,” Lucien says, taking Stella’s hand into his and lifting it to his lips. Stella’s cheeks turn a soft shade of pink.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Lucien,” she answers.
He turns back toward Cyrus. “Now that we know each other’s names, please, come in.”
Marble tiles, arranged in perfect squares, create a colorful pattern that welcomes us inside. The walls are covered in matching wallpaper, and an ornate gold-leaf round table sits in the middle, almost as large as the chandelier above.
“This is beautiful,” Stella says.
“Thank you,” Lucien answers. “This way, please.” He leads us into a room off the foyer that I would classify as a sitting room.
Two emerald-green velvet couches sit facing each other, flanked by matching chairs.
Plants as large as trees sit in each corner of the room.
Each leaning toward the sunlight beaming through the oversized windows.
He motions toward the couches. “Please, be seated.”
Cyrus sits first, pulling me next to him, while Simon and Stella sit on the twin couch across from us. “Thank you for welcoming us, Lucien,” Cyrus says, breaking the silence.
Our host sits at one of the chairs. “Tell me. To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?” Long legs cross at the knee, and his perfectly manicured fingers cross over the top. He’s sitting so still, even my vampire eyes don’t detect movement.
Simon glances at Cyrus, and the two exchange a silent conversation that no doubt has everything to do with Aurora and Callum. “I’ve heard you are powerful,” Cyrus says, breaking the silence.
Lucien’s laughter fills the room. “Where ever did you hear that from?”
Simon clears his throat. “My father is Gideon Ward.”
“Ahh, I thought the name sounded familiar. I should’ve guessed when your names began with the letter S.
” He scoffs. “I’m not sure why your father chose for his children’s names to all begin with the same letter.
Rather confusing if you ask me, but of course, he did not, in fact, ask for my opinion.
” He waves his hand, covering his mouth.
“Oh, I’m not making fun of you, well…maybe slightly. ”
“I…we understand,” Simon answers. “We’ve often wondered the same.” His body language screams anxiety.
“I worked with Gideon on a particular matter a few years back. I’m guessing he shared his knowledge of me with you?”
Simon nods. “Yes.”
Lucien turns toward Cyrus. “I’ve heard of you, Cyrus Knight.” He stares at my buyer, raising the tension in the room a few levels.
“I’ve been around a while,” Cyrus answers.
The warlock looks Cyrus up and down, making me feel uncomfortable. “You are rather nice on the eyes,” he says. “That part wasn’t mentioned.”
Cyrus smiles. “Thank you.”
Lucien jumps from his seat. “Oh, my. What a horrible host I am. Would you all care for something to eat?” He slides a heavy pocket door that separates the living area from an ornate dining room. Before we have time to respond, he disappears through the door.
Simon’s eyes grow several sizes as he makes eye contact with Cyrus and me. His body language is screaming the question we all want to know…What the hell?
Our host reappears as quickly as he disappeared. He sets a large tray on the table between the couches. The amount of food covering it is astounding. “I didn’t have much time or notice of your arrival. You’ll have to forgive the small amount I’ve prepared.”
The tray is covered in cookies, petite sandwiches, glasses of what looks like fresh lemonade, and two bottles of bright red liquid. My stomach rumbles at the sight.
“I knew you were hungry,” Lucien says, waving a hand in my direction. He hands me a bottle. “I always keep blood on hand. You never know who might show up unexpectedly.”
I turn the bottle in my hand, inspecting the liquid inside. It smells delicious, and my instincts begin to take over my common sense. “Thank you,” I say, smiling weakly.
“Go ahead,” he urges. “It’s not poisoned.” He laughs again. “I don’t know you well enough to poison you, yet.”
Cyrus takes the second bottle, brings it to his lips, and drinks most of it in one gulp.
Several minutes pass before he nods so quickly, I barely catch his movement.
His movements tell me to drink, and I don’t waste a minute doing so.
The liquid tastes perfect going down, and I close my eyes in response.
Simon and Stella empty the rest of the tray like they haven’t eaten in years. “This is delicious,” Simon announces. “Thank you, Lucien.”
Lucien relaxes his posture slightly, sliding to the back of the tall chair. “Now, please tell me why you’re here.”
“We need your help,” Cyrus announces.
“Of course you do. No one ever just comes to visit. It’s always, Lucien, I need help with a vampire, or, Lucien, I need help with a witch. No one ever stops to just say hello.” He sighs loudly. I stare at the warlock, not sure if he’s crazy or lonely.
Cyrus stands, pulling me with him. “I apologize for the intrusion.” He bows slightly. “Thank you for the sustenance, but we must be on our way.” Simon and Stella stand, moving behind me.
“Where are you going?” Lucien asks.
Cyrus pushes me from behind, while Simon does the same with Stella. “We’ve made a mistake,” he answers.
Lucien swipes his hand in our direction, and the front door locks. A second swipe causes metal rods to slide through the wooden floor, forming a cage around the four of us. Shit. “You’ve only just arrived. Seems like a long trip for such a short visit.”
The tension in the room rises, bringing chill bumps to the surface. The energy is heavy. “We mean you no harm,” Cyrus continues. “Lower the cage, and we’ll be on our way.”
“Tell me why you came,” Lucien answers. “Lycan and vampire don’t normally communicate, let alone travel together.
” He steps to the edge of the cage, turning toward Simon.
“The bars are made from solid silver. Touch them, and you will burn instantly.” He looks back at Cyrus.
“The only reason the four of you would be here is that you seek help with a witch. My guess, a very powerful practitioner. Who?”
“Aurora,” Cyrus answers, and the room goes dark.
The four of us stand lifeless, not sure what’s about to happen. The energy shifts, and two wolves stand at our back.
“What is this?” Cyrus asks.
“A precaution,” Lucien answers. His voice sounds far away, yet nearby at the same time.
“Ours or yours?” I ask.
“Hmmm, good question. Both?” His voice sounds from a different part of the room.
“We’re not here to harm anyone,” Cyrus answers. “We’re here seeking help.”
“Anyone who has anything to do with Aurora is not welcome,” Lucien answers. “Explain your business, and I’ll decide your intentions.”
“I can assure you, our intentions are honorable,” Cyrus answers.
“Your reputation precedes you, Mr. Knight.”
“Then you should know I’m an honest man.”
“We’ll see about that,” Lucien says from another area of the house.
My vampire eyes search through the darkness, not seeing any movement outside of the cage. “He’s gone,” I whisper.
“No, he’s here,” Cyrus answers. A low growl sounds from behind. “We don’t have time for this,” he yells into the empty home. “We came for help, not games.” His words are met with silence. He turns toward me. “Stand back, Violet.”
I look around the small cage, full of two wolves and two vampires. “Where am I supposed to go?”
“If you know of my reputation, you should know that this cage will not contain me,” he yells through the house, ignoring my question. A wet nose nudges my arm, pulling me closer to its fur. I move between the wolves, not sure how they’re going to protect me from whatever is about to happen.
Cyrus turns toward me. His eyes take on an air of apology, and I feel my forehead wrinkle in confusion. A heartbeat later, his face transforms. Bright blue eyes are replaced by deep red. Sharp teeth protrude from his mouth, and strong cheekbones are replaced by jagged angles.
He places his hands around the metal, and with barely any effort, he pulls the bars apart, breaking them in the process.
He easily steps through, reaching a hand in for me.
I allow him to pull me through, keeping my focus away from his transformation.
The wolves are out a second later. With his fingers laced through mine, Cyrus pulls me to the center of the living area.
“Lucien Creed, I demand your service.” His voice echoes off the mahogany walls.
Standing in front of us is a stranger. Instead of the man who opened the door and welcomed us into his home, this man is older. His hair and eyes are the same color as before, but his face is worn with worry and magic.
He smiles widely. “There you are, Mr. Knight. I’m not a fan of facades.” The older man bows gracefully. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. My name is Lucien Creed. How may I be of service?”