Chapter 25
TWENTY-FIVE
i’m officially resigning
“What in the bloody hell just happened?” Erick asks, breaking the silence.
“Violet killed Callum,” Phillipe answers. His voice is monotone, as if it’s an everyday occurrence.
“I…I didn’t kill him. Did I?” I ask.
“The words you spoke killed him,” Harrison says, looking at me. “Where did you learn that?”
“I didn’t learn it. Terrin told me what to say.” All three vampires look at me, trying to piece the confusing parts of the puzzle together. “In my head. He told me in my head.” I close my eyes. “Never mind. I can’t explain it.”
“Violet,” a weak voice says from across the room. “It’s Cyrus,” Simon says. He’s in human form and lying across his friend. I’m at their side a heartbeat later.
“Cyrus?” I ask, putting my hand on his bare back.
“Help me turn him,” Simon says, using what remains of his strength to flip my buyer from his stomach to his back.
“Why isn’t he healing?” I ask. The moment his body turns, the reason is obvious.
“Shit,” Erick whispers.
“He’s still alive,” Harrison announces. “If he were dead, he would already be dust.”
I stare at the large piece of wood protruding from his chest. Wrapping my hands around it, I’m about to pull it free when Phillipe’s hands cover mine.
“That’s not a good idea, Violet. The wood is likely touching the edge of his heart.
Everything in this building has been blessed and or cursed, which makes it more powerful than normal wood.
One millimeter of movement could cause it to tear into the organ and kill him instantly. ”
“What are you saying?” I ask anyone who will answer.
“If you move the wood, you’re going to kill him,” Harrison answers simply.
I sit heavily on the stained floor. “There has to be a way.”
“Magic, maybe,” Simon says. He barely has enough strength to hold his head up, and his words are slurred.
“Terrin!” I yell through our connection. “Terrin! Lucien, anyone!” I call countless more times. Each time met with no response.
“Violet,” Cyrus whispers, barely audible.
“I’m here.” I turn my attention back to the man in front of me. “I’m here.”
“I’m sorry,” he continues. “I didn’t mean for this to happen.”
“No one ever intends on death,” Phillipe says.
“Callum?” Cyrus asks.
“Dead,” I answer. I don’t go into detail, and he doesn’t ask.
“Terrin?”
“He and Lucien escaped.” I fight the tears threatening to fall.
“I’m going to die.”
I don’t know what to say. Instead, I lose the battle with my tears. Cursing them on their way down. “I’m here,” I finally answer.
A weak hand covers mine. “You’re amazing, Violet.”
“Leave us!” I shout to the entourage standing behind me. They do as asked without argument.
A stray tear falls to his cheek. “If I’m amazing, it’s because of you.”
He laughs, spitting a stream of blood down the side of his mouth. “I’ve seen many new vampires, and you are the best.”
“At least I’m good at something.” I tease.
“You have to let me die.”
“No,” I answer without hesitation.
“I’m ready. I’ve lived a long life, Violet. It’s time for that to end.”
“What about me?” I ask selfishly.
“Harrison will take care of you. He contacted me about purchasing you back before we left St. Augustine.” He coughs as he speaks, wincing as his chest moves.
“Now is not the time for jokes.”
“I’m not joking,” Cyrus answers. “He respects you and will keep you safe until you are ready.”
“I’m ready now.”
The look in Cyrus’s eyes makes me smile. “We both know that’s not true.”
Cyrus coughs again, closing his eyes as he focuses on being still. “It’s time,” he whispers.
“No.”
“I’ve left you everything I own. Homes, assets, etc. You’ll have enough to be set for many lifetimes.”
I wrinkle my forehead. “When did you…”
“It’s not important,” he interrupts. “Violet, I’m sorry.”
“I’m sorry, too,” I answer, wiping stray tears from my eyes. Dammit, why do vampires cry? I’m supposed to be a killing machine, not a bag of emotions.
Cyrus lifts his hand from mine, placing it around the wood sticking through his chest. “I’ve never told anyone this before and meant it.” He blinks heavily. “I love you, Violet Du Four.”
He loves me? “I love you, too,” I answer without regret.
“Until we meet again, my love. It’s time for me to go.” Bright blue eyes close as he forces the wood into his chest an inch more, piercing his heart. The light fades from his body, and his energy is instantly gone.
“Cyrus?” I whisper. “Cyrus!”
“He’s gone,” Simon says. “I can feel it.”
Without warning, the body of the vampire who just professed to love me begins to disappear. First his arms and legs, then his torso, and finally his head. Where the man lay moments earlier is now nothing more than a pile of dust.
I’m frozen in place…an emotional time bomb. A large hand squeezes my shoulder. “Come on, love. He’s gone.”
“I’m not leaving him,” I say through tears.
“What’s left is not Cyrus.” Erick wraps one arm under my knees and one under my torso, lifting me from the floor of the attic. I’m too weak to fight as he carries me from the convent and into the familiar streets of New Orleans.
……
The Home of Harrison Chamberlin
2023
“Why’d you bring her here?” I ask my maker. “Is this another attempt at finding Penelope? She’s dead, you know.”
Harrison glares at me. “Mind your own business, and do as you’re told.”
I sigh, not sure the girl in the library is going to be overly excited when she discovers her entire life has been planned and orchestrated by Harrison Chamberlin, the asshole. “What do you want me to do?”
“Comfort her. She’s a little…anxious.”
“You think?”
“She’s quiet. That means she’s either accepted that this is real, or she’s gone insane. Check on her,” Harrison barks an order.
“Fuck you,” I whisper loud enough for him to hear.
“Many have tried,” he says with a scoff. “Only a few have succeeded.”
“Whatever. You’re a man ho.” I step toward the library door. “I’m not exactly the comforting type,” I remind him.
“I have faith in you.”
I hear the woman before I’m close to the wooden door.
I take an unnecessary breath and turn the doorknob.
The sound of something heavy being picked up makes me laugh.
I open the door, prepared to do battle with a human wielding something made from brass.
“Hello?” I call into the room. “Are you in here?” I roll my eyes at the dumb question.
“Of course you’re in here. Where else would you go?
” I giggle at the silliness of my words.
“Who are you?” she asks, setting a heavy candlestick down.
I stare at the woman in front of me. She can’t be over five feet tall, and her bright red hair is sticking out all over.
I gasp at her appearance. I’ve walked by the portrait of Penelope Luquire for a century.
Staring at the woman Harrison brought home last night is like looking at a ghost. She is the exact replica of the woman he’s sought for more years than I can count… Penelope.
“Violet Du Four,” I answer, fighting to keep the shock from my tone.
I hold my hand toward her, performing a very human act.
She ignores the offer, and I pull back, hoping to find a way to comfort her another way.
“Harrison told me you might be a little upset.” She looks at the candlestick.
“Why don’t you let me have this?” I ask, taking it from its resting spot.
“Where am I?” she asks.
“The French Quarter. I can’t tell you any more information than that until Harrison gives permission.”
“Gives permission? Is he your boss or something?”
I resist the urge to laugh, not wanting to confuse her even more. “Or something,” I answer. “I can tell you that you’re safe.”
She scoffs loudly. “He thinks he’s a vampire.”
“Yeah, well, he is. So am I.”
The girl stares at me like I’ve lost my mind. She’s probably right. “Do you know how insane you both sound? Is this some sort of cult?
I can’t control my laugh. A cult? “To answer your questions, yes, I’m aware of how I sound, and no, this is not a cult. We’re vampires, Amelia, and we’re not the only ones.”
“Viktor?” she asks.
“Among others.”
“How long…How long have you lived with Harrison?”
The truth is more than I want to discuss and more than she is ready to hear. Instead, I shrug. “I was turned somewhere around a hundred years ago. Been here ever since.” I smile, hoping to ease her discomfort. “Harrison asked me to tell you dinner was ready if you’re hungry.”
“I’m not hungry,” she answers just as her stomach decides to tell otherwise. A loud growl echoes through the room.
“You sure about that?” I laugh softly. “Harrison and I are the only two in the house. Our cook has left for the day, and he left enough food to feed an army.” On cue, her stomach growls once more. “Harrison said he’d stay out of sight if it would help you feel more comfortable.”
Her body language is screaming just how uncomfortable she is. “Okay,” she whispers. “If anyone tries to eat me, I’m not going to be happy.”
I clap my hands with fake enthusiasm, hoping to distract her thoughts. “Yay! Follow me.” I lead her out of the library and down the narrow hallway I like to call “Harrison’s look at me walkway.” Arrogant asshole.
“Are the people in these pictures vampires, too?” she asks. The tone of her voice tells me she still doesn’t believe the truth about what we are.
I follow her line of sight. “Most were.” I point at a picture of Harrison from the 15th century. “Look at his face closely.”
“He looks like Harrison. Must be a relative.”
“Not a relative. That’s a picture of Harrison. He’s lived in this house, well, not this house exactly, the original burned, but in a house on this same spot for nearly three hundred years.”
“That’s not possible. This land was owned by natives until the French purchased it.”
“Don’t believe everything you read in history books,” I answer, leading her into the foyer of the house. We walk past Penelope’s portrait that Harrison covered to hide her image.
“Why is that picture covered?”
“You’ll have to ask Harrison about that.” I turn, leading her toward the back of the house. “The kitchen is this way.”
We enter the room that’s just been redesigned for the tenth time since I’ve lived here. Amelia looks around, taking in the details. Her eyes spot the display of food Thomas left for her.
“Is this all for me?”
“Thomas tends to go overboard. I told him you’d never be able to eat all of this, but he was excited about the opportunity to cook. Eat what you like. We’ll donate the rest.”
Watching her fill her plate with a little of everything brings up one of the things I miss the most. Food. I’d rather not be reminded. “I’ll be right outside if you need anything,” I announce, heading toward the door.
“You’re not staying?”
Shit. “I assumed you’d rather be alone. I’m happy to stay if you’re sure I’m not going to eat you,” I smirk with my words, hoping sarcasm will relax the anxiety she’s carrying.
The girl smiles. “Please stay.”
I sit across from her, watching her take small bites of her food. No doubt, she’s convinced it’s poisoned. “I miss food,” I announce. “What does that taste like? Can you describe it?” I ask, pointing at the sweet potatoes she just took a bite from.
“Um, well, it’s creamy, with a hint of cinnamon, and I think there’s nutmeg mixed throughout.
The pecan topping adds a little sweetness that counters the tartness of the potatoes.
” My body reacts to her description differently than I imagined it would.
Sharp fangs protrude from my gums, making themselves visible.
What the hell? I cover my mouth with my hand, hoping to hide the display.
“Oh, my God. I’m sorry,” I mumble. She eats the rest of her plate, and I manage to keep my fangs intact.
“That was delicious. Thank you. My compliments to the chef.”
“I think I enjoyed watching you eat it as much as you enjoyed eating it,” I say truthfully. Her energy relaxes the longer we sit together.
“Are there more vampires in the city?” She crosses her arms across her chest.
“You do remember you live in New Orleans, right? This city is riddled with vampires and has been for centuries. Hell, I think vampires were here before humans. I can guarantee we’re not the first ones you’ve come across in your lifetime.
” The look on her face tells me she’s thinking about everyone she’s ever met.
“Who is Harrison?”
I sit back, not sure how much to share. “That is a question for Harrison. His story is not mine to tell.” I take her plate, hoping to change the subject.
“Do you mind helping me get the leftovers ready to take to the shelter?” I throw a few Ziploc bags in her direction, and the two of us fill them to the brim.
“Thomas did go a bit overboard,” she says, relaxing even more.
“He always does, but it will go to good use.” Throwing the plastic bags into grocery bags, I get them ready to deliver to Opie. “I hate to tell you this, but you have to go back into your room while I’m gone.”
“That won’t be necessary, Violet. I’ll stay with her. In fact, why don’t Amelia and I take the leftovers to the shelter?” Harrison appears out of nowhere. He’s wearing a pair of jeans and a Henley shirt, making him look more human than I’ve seen him look in a century.
“Sure, if Amelia’s okay with that,” I answer, wearing a fake smile. “Are you okay with that?” I ask our “guest.”
“If I have to choose between being locked back in that room or hanging out with a supposed vampire, I’m going to choose the vampire,” she answers.
I watch as the two of them exit the house, unsure if I should warn her or join in this game Harrison’s playing.