Chapter Nineteen #2
“Don’t be,” he said with a huff of breath. “I was a coward. We had grown up together. Our mothers were close friends,” he continued, his gaze lost to memories she could not see. “They were brothers. Of course, Moor was their father’s family name. Their mother’s was Lysanmore.”
Her stomach dipped.
“They were my ancestors?”
“Yes. Richard and Nicholas Moor.”
“How old were you?” she asked, judging he was in his late twenties when he died based on his appearance.
“Thirty. Nicholas and I were the same age, but Richard was only twenty-three. That loss hurt his mother, Elizabeth, the most. It was, in fact, her sister, Delanie, who I was betrothed to. She tried to intervene, but Elizabeth was heartbroken, grieving, and angry. She stole the spell of immortality from the witches who trusted her and changed it, devoting and pouring the grief of losing her children into exacting vengeance against me. Three months later, she completed her curse and used it on me. It killed her to do it, but if I am being honest, I believe she wanted to die anyway.”
“Christ,” Charlotte blurted, slowly seating herself across from him with a long sigh. She wasn’t sure what she expected to hear, but it was not that. “You didn’t deserve that.”
Slowly, he turned his head to meet hers, his brows knitting together. “I cost people their lives through my brutish arrogance and cowardice.”
“Perhaps, but the punishment should fit the crime, if you can even call it that.”
“Don’t say that,” he said in a pained voice.
“It’s so easy to say we will meet our end with courage until the time comes,” she replied, her own shame bubbling to the surface.
“Yet, I did the same thing as you did, but to my sister. I never thought I could leave her to die, but after my father strangled me, all I could do was lie there, listening to her die, hoping he was distracted enough that he wouldn’t notice I was still breathing. ”
“It’s not the same,” he said gruffly. “You could not have stopped your father, and you are—”
“Do not say a woman.”
“I was going to say, you were younger than your sister,” he added.
“I was a commander. It was my duty to fight and die alongside my band of brothers. Instead, I panicked. My life flashed before my eyes and by the time I’d run and hid, I regretted my decision, but it was too late. They were all dead.”
“So you couldn’t have saved them?”
“We were outnumbered.”
“Then, you are angry at yourself for surviving?” she asked incredulously. “If you had fought you would have died, and it wouldn’t have helped them.”
“It’s not as simple as that.”
“It is for me. I don’t believe your friends would have wished for your death just because they met theirs. If they did, then they were not true friends.”
“You speak of it as if there are no gray areas.”
“I understand your sentiment, but I reject your self-loathing for simply choosing not to die.”
“You are kind. I only hope you give yourself the same consideration.”
“Except I could have helped her.” She stood in front of him, placing her hand over her stomach as she wrestled with the stark truth that had haunted her since.
“There were heavy ornaments I could have grabbed and if the roles were reversed, Alice would have tried everything to stop him from hurting me. I knew she was dying. I could hear her gurgling cries. When I cracked open my eyes, I watched her eyes fill with blood. All I could think was that I was glad it wasn’t me. ”
He lifted his gaze to meet hers. “You were afraid.”
“So were you.”
“I was supposed to be strong.”
“And I was not? I saved myself over the one person who always protected me. I should have died trying to help her and I didn’t, so believe me when I tell you, I understand why you did what you did. Commander or not, we all stumble in the face of death. It’s never too late to do things differently.”
“It is too late for me. I am the creature better men die fighting trying to protect their loved ones from.” He glanced at the fountain and sighed. “If you saw what I did, you would never think me capable of being saved.”
“I think everyone is,” she admitted and took a step closer.
“It is my fatal flaw. You and I are similar, I think.” Her tone rose an octave, her heart racing as the truth pierced her skull.
“We both survived and hate ourselves for it. The only difference is you’ve had lifetimes of desensitization to death.
Given the same chance, I might be just like you. ”
The corners of his eyes creased. “You could never be like me.”
“Careful,” she teased. “You almost sound nice.”
His lips curved.
“Is that another smile?” she asked. “I’m beginning to think you do have a soul in there.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. I never smile,” he said, with a wide smile, the kind that could break hearts.
A loud bang erupted from behind the double doors and for a moment she forgot where she was and what they were doing. Laughter tinkered after and rushed voices. Someone had fallen against the door, likely intoxicated.
Soon after, Alexander appeared behind the doors, his eyes landing on Charlotte in relief. Likely glad to see Nathaniel hadn’t ripped out her throat. “They’re here, Nathaniel, and there’s something else.”
“What is it?”
His face blanched, eyes widening. Charlotte had never seen Alexander afraid.
He was always so well put together, but in that moment, he looked as if he might pass out.
“Gertrude Avery has returned. I swear, I would have thought I was seeing things if it wasn’t for her interacting with Katherine.
She’s alive. I don’t know how, but the bitch has returned. ”
Charlotte’s heart hammered. She’d heard that name before, but it couldn’t be the same one who cursed her bloodline.
Nathaniel stood upright and quickly crossed the courtyard. “That is impossible.”
“Yet, it is true.”
“It must be a trick,” Nathaniel said, shock carving into each of his words.
“Then it is a good one.”
“How can she be alive?” Charlotte asked. “She lived over three hundred years ago, unless, she is a vampire.”
With a squeeze of his eyelids, Nathaniel’s fingers dove into his hair. “It might not be her,” he said, with a desperation she’d never heard in his voice before.
“She’s not a vampire,” Alexander confirmed, only adding to their confusion.
Before she could press him further, Katherine hurried through the doors, followed by an incredibly handsome vampire who she guessed was Zachariah. He flashed his fangs with the most charismatic, contagious smile.
“Nathaniel, the head of the Avery family is asking for you,” Katherine said, standing beside a woman of bright red hair and blue eyes. Judging by the way she held herself, with the same fearlessness that only immortality afforded, Charlotte knew she was the other vampire.
“Zachariah,” Nathaniel said lowly when the doors shut behind them, addressing the young man with dark-blond waves, wearing a deep red and black tuxedo. “How many are there?”
“Fourteen, well fifteen if you count the man they brought.”
“He doesn’t count,” Nathaniel replied quickly, straightening his posture. Charlotte understood what he meant. Men couldn’t be witches, only women. A man wouldn’t have any magical ability and therefore, would not be a threat.
Katherine cleared her throat. “I introduced myself and from what I could tell, they didn’t notice the spell when they walked in.”
Charlotte pressed her lips tight together. They wouldn’t have, considering it didn’t exist.
“Very good,” Nathaniel said, his eyes flickering to Charlotte’s for a second with an approving smile. “Where are they now?”
Charlotte’s stomach tumbled and she swallowed thickly, trying not to reveal anything in her expression. If it was true and a three-hundred-year-old witch was in fact with them, then she had made a huge mistake in disabling the spell.
“The reception hall,” Zachariah answered. “Gertrude is asking for you.”
“I will go,” he said with a nod. “Before they disrupt the rest of the guests. Zachariah, you will come with me and Alexander, guard Miss Lovett.”
Zachariah leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed over his crimson waistcoat, which was half-way undone. “Yes, my Lord,” he drawled.
Charlotte stepped forward before they could leave, and placed her hand on Nathaniel’s arm, the move not going unnoticed by Katherine, who glared at them. “How will you know it’s really Gertrude and not an illusion?”
Alexander grimaced. “If anyone would know, it’s Nathaniel. After all. She is his mother.”
Charlotte’s mouth fell open in disbelief, the revelation shooting shockwaves through her. The woman responsible for condemning the souls of her family to a purgatory, forever trapped within the bounds of a graveyard, was his mother!
“You failed to mention that,” she said when her brain finally caught up with her mouth.
“It wasn’t important,” Nathaniel said simply.
She begged to differ, considering that had to be the reason Gertrude cursed her bloodline, out of vengeance for her ancestor cursing her son with vampirism.
“Why would she be aligned with your enemies?”
He didn’t answer and instead turned to Alexander. “Keep her safe.” Nathaniel’s eyes locked onto hers, and he added, “Do not leave this courtyard. She’s dangerous and will stop at nothing to get to you.”
“Why?”
Again, not answering her question, he opened the ballroom doors. A flood of violin and piano chatter spilled into the courtyard when he, Zachariah, Katherine and Irene walked inside, leaving Charlotte and Alexander alone.