House Wyndham Vampires: Half Light Part 6

Michel's ancestry was believed to be Greek, but even Michel couldn't remember. Nor did he care. His only concern was money, power, and indulgence.

I never mean to paint Michel as all bad. There was a time in our courting, when I was human and he loved to taste me, that he was funny, and playful. He was very smart, and world traveled. Michel's age was a closely guarded secret. In this world, the older a vampire was, the more dangerous his life became. Age meant power. Old Ones had been killed by the younger ones for their blood, and in retaliation for that, I learned that two years before I was turned, the King of Vampires, a t.i.tle known as Hyperion, destroyed any vampire under a hundred years old, unless they were bonded to an Elder.

I was one of only a handful of new vampires made after the decree. Now we were monitored.

But rogues still roamed the streets of the world.

I had been taught to fear them.

By the time I got home Jared had already changed the bedsheets-400 thread count mind you. Two stainless steel refrigerators had been delivered and installed the day before. They were good and cold now. I stocked both of them with a variety of blood types. Jared and I had our own stock hidden in the house. Something much smaller. But, like Jared had said, Michel was going to bring his entourage.

"I'm not sure if he's bringing his Ghoul," Jared said as he tossed the last of the throw pillows on the bed. It was a California King, which translated into Really Big Bed. "Can't remember his name."

"He?" I pursed my lips with all kinds of impressed. "Michel actually made a guy Ghoul?"

"Apparently. Father shot me a text about him. There's a story there-but-" and he turned to me. "I'm more interested in what's happening tonight?"

"Football game."

"And I have to go?"

"Yes. You have to make sure I don't do the stupid." I checked my watch. "When is Michel arriving?"

There was a thud on the stairs down to the bas.e.m.e.nt. Jared and I turned to see- "How about-now?"

Michel was everything about being a vampire the movies and books made popular. He was tall and well made-not as lean as Brandon-but he was close. Broad shouldered, long dark hair trimmed just below his shoulder, high cheek bones, and dark eyes. He seemed to love dressing the part, whereas most of the families, like the Wyndham name, preferred to blend in with the humans.

He stood at the foot of the bas.e.m.e.nt stairs, dressed in a black trench coat, boots with large silver buckles, leather pants, and a white s.h.i.+rt beneath. Knowing Michel, it was a silk s.h.i.+rt. His fingers were covered in rings, and his skin from his wrists to his shoulders were decorated in elaborate tribal tattoos. He'd had them before he was turned, and so they would remain a part of him forever.

Which is why he often wore long sleeves. He detested imperfection.

Beside him stood his only childe, Dockal, a pet.i.te little Asian with hair cut short around her chin. She was dressed pretty much like Michel-all in leather.

But even with these two spectacles in front of me, nothing shown as bright as the young man standing on the other side of Michel. He was...

Different.

He was tall, maybe as tall as Michel, with a slim build. His face was almost predatory, with cheekbones more p.r.o.nounced than Michel's, and a dark soul patch beneath his full lower lip. His short brown hair gleamed with wisps of blond highlight as if he'd been in the sun a long time. His clothing was much more subdued. He wore a leather peacoat, with a plaid flannel s.h.i.+rt beneath, jeans and Birkenstock boots. He didn't look any older than I'd been when I was turned. Maybe eighteen?

"Ah...Carly my love. You look as beautiful as ever," Michel said as he came forward. He couldn't come all the way to me-I had to finish the journey to him.

We embraced and he pulled back and took my hands in his. His were ice, even to my own cool touch. "It's nice to see you, My Lord, Michel. We thought you would be arriving much later, during the night."

"Isn't this wonderful?" he said and turned to motion the young man forward. "You can credit my traveling in the day to my latest acquisition. Carly, this is Craft Hood, my new Ghoul. Craft, show your respects to my fiance, Carly Wyndham."

Craft? What kind of name was that?

The young man stepped up next to Michel, and then bowed on one knee. "The honor is mine."

The accent-he was Britis.h.!.+ Just like Jared.

I blushed. Again!

"Got him trained right, Michel," Jared said.

Michel gave my brother a disparaging look. "You're still here?"

"Much to your chagrin, yes," Jared said as he stepped back and gestured to the bas.e.m.e.nt. "Your room's down here, Michel. It's private with its own entrance and exit, as you've discovered." He pointed to the silver refrigerators. "And well stocked."

As if permission were given, Dockal sprinted in a flash across the room, wrenched open one of the hulking refrigerators and started yanking bags of blood out.

"Docki-" Michel said in a tired voice. "Just one bag. Remember, you have to watch your sugar."

She scowled at him but did put all the bags back but one. Once the door was closed her teeth descended and she bit into the plastic. The sucking noises were...gross.

"Excuse her. I've got her on a strict diet."

I had no idea what that meant, and I didn't care. My attention kept slipping over to Craft. He stood and stepped back, his hands resting on his hips. With his coat parted away from his s.h.i.+rt, I saw a gun holster buckled on his chest.

A gun?

Michel had moved past us to get a closer look at the room. "And it's completely light safe?"

"Do you notice any sun now?" Jared said.

"The sun's already set," Michel said in a tone that dripped ice.

It was no secret the two didn't like one another. Michel was a Family vampire, whereas Jared was an adopted mongrel, his service bought and owned. Though Father called him a son, and I called him a brother, there were those in the community that would never accept Jared as anything less than themselves.

Michel was one of them. He was the biological great grandson of the Babineaux family. I honestly didn't know what that meant, nor did I care. Vampires were all made the same, and none were born. Jared having Father's blood in him was no different than me having the same blood. It didn't make me better than Jared-it made us equal.

Jared shrugged. "It's completely safe down here. Father had it built that way. But if you'd like to explore, please do. You have a car at your disposal as well. I believe your Father had it dropped off earlier today. It's in the garage."

"Good. I'm interested in the night life available here." He pointed at me. "You will accompany me. I want to spend some time together."

I heard a sonic boom somewhere and my thoughts immediately turned to Brandon. Go out with Michel? No...! I had to get to the football field. He was counting on me to be there...and I wanted to be with him.

Not going to boring vampire clubs with Michel the Lestat wannabe.

I must have been pretty transparent with my face because Jared came to my rescue. "Oh...Michel...sorry. But Carly's got somewhere else to be tonight."

Michel narrowed his eyes. "Somewhere else? You made plans when you knew I'd be coming?"

"No," I said very carefully. I was also aware Craft was watching the two of us intently. Dockal was busy sucking on her bag in the middle of the floor. She looked like that Hoodie Ninja from that car commercial. "I was told you wouldn't get here till after three in the morning. I made plans before then."

"Break them. You're mine. So you come with me."

Jared clenched his fists.

I wanted to clench mine, and slap this guy across the face.

But- "Master," Craft spoke up and gave Michel a bow. "I'm afraid this may be my fault. The Mistress was not informed that you would be arriving earlier. In my haste to expedite your arrival, I neglected to inform either of them of our schedule."

"Nice try, Craft, but Carly is to be my wife. So she has to do what I say."

"Actually," Jared interjected. "She's your fiance until your bonding. And she won't be your wife, but your Bonded."

Michel's face turned red as his anger surfaced. "You would speak to me like this?"

"Master," Craft stepped up to the vampire and put himself between me and Michel. "Please. You need to relax and enjoy your first night here. The Wyndhams have provided you with a nice place to relax. There is an entertainment center, flat-screen, and I believe," he half turned to Jared but didn't met with his eyes. "You have a Doll?"

"She'll be arriving at three. A.M." Jared said.

Michel pursed his lips and looked past Craft to me. "What are you plans?"

I didn't see any reason to lie. "Football game."

He made a face. "Football? You mean like high school? No wonder I smell..." and he sniffed again. "Jock."

I tried reeeally hard not to look at Jared, but I could hear his I told you so in my head. "I have made friends with one of the students. And in my gift of a year from my father-experiencing new things-I felt that since I didn't attend high school, some of their activities might provide me with...entertainment."

"Have you bitten him?"

"No."

"Don't. It's bad enough that I can smell him on you. I don't want you tainted by his blood. You've only been drinking the bags?"

I sighed. "Yes, Michel. Only the bags." I held out my wrist to him. I was making an offer to him, to taste and see. It was a risk because if he did taste my blood, he would sense my feelings toward Brandon. And that was risky. But what was more risky was Michel taking any interest in this situation. It was better I diffuse it now and make it not worth his time.

So if I offered him my blood, he would more than likely take it as a confirmation of my sincerity and Brandon would be safe.

But he was staring at my arm too long, and I could see his teeth descend just below his upper lip. His eyes darkened even more and became black pools.

Blood wasn't just blood to us. I'd learned through my tutors that blood had different tastes and smells, that it held the body and soul's essence of its owner. But unlike wine, the older the blood, the more powerful it was, the worse it tasted. And it was more likely to make a younger vampire sick.

Father's blood had caused me to lay in a wasteful fever for nearly a month before the change was complete. But once I was changed, I had a lot of power at my disposal, though I so rarely used it. I was too young. And if I were to drink from him or from Michel-it would be bitter and unpleasant, and would most likely make me ill once again.

But a new vampire's blood was like ice wine. So sweet and rare. Rare because even though they had killed so many children, since the Renaissance as my Father put it, drinking from a newborn without their permission was forbidden. Mainly because there were so few of us now.

My gesture of trust was going to backfire. It was going to get me killed and expose the truth that Brandon had my blood.

Michel went for my wrist. He was a starving man being offered a feast.

And I was, by all standards, a newborn.

I saw Jared brace in my peripheral vision. Michel had every intention of biting me-and drinking. And with his strength and the lure of my blood, I knew I wouldn't be able to stop him.

I glanced at Dockal who was watching now, a b.l.o.o.d.y smile on her face. I wouldn't expect any help from her. And I didn't want Jared to get hurt. I knew he was planning on intercepting Michel-and if he did-there was the possibility the older vampire would kill him.

Michel groaned with the expectation of setting upon a feast as he lunged at me. I braced myself, my mind going through all the things I wished I could have told Brandon just as I readied myself to knock Jared out of the way.

Something did knock me over-but it wasn't Michel.

This was warm and much heavier than Michel. I fell on my back as what ever it was landed on my hips and legs. I slapped my hands against the floor to stop myself from falling all the way back and cracking my head on the floor.

"Carly!" Jared yelled out.

Dockal clapped and cheered. "Craft! Craft! Craft!"

Craft?

What had knocked me back was indeed Craft-and he had Michel on top of him. My fiance was wrapped around him, his teeth tearing into his neck.

Oh G.o.d no- "Carly-grab my hand," Jared was to my right and behind me. I turned to see his hand and grabbed it. Together we managed to work my lower half out from under the two of them.

Michel came to his senses then as well-especially when he realized what he was chewing on wasn't me. He sat back and scowled down at the young man before he reached out and grabbed Craft's collar. He lifted him up to a sitting position and put his face so close to Craft's their noses touched. "You...dare..."

"M-master," Craft said in a low and calming voice. "Rules of the bond and the agreement state that you cannot take of Carly Piper Wyndham's blood until the night of the Bond. Any breaking of this would commit a breach in the contract-nullifying it immediately..." he was panting, and I noticed he was still bleeding from the wound in his neck. There was already a dark pool of blood the size of a basketball on the floor.

Jared held me to him but away from Michel and Craft. "I think you should go out....slake your hunger, Master Babineaux."

His words weren't stilted or full of the anger I felt radiating off of him. My own attention was focused on Craft. Could Ghouls heal the way we did? I admit that at the time I wasn't as educated in Ghouls as I should have been. I learned enough to know I never wanted one. Enslaving a human to me until I either killed them or turned them, taking on the responsibility of their life, wasn't something I considered doing.

Michel was still staring at Craft, and then looked up at me. I kept my expression as blank as possible, but I didn't look away. He finally nodded and released Craft, who limply fell back on the floor.

The Ghoul had delivered his speech to his Master and pa.s.sed out.

"I guess that's why I keep you around, Ghoul," Michel said as he moved up from his knees to his feet. The entire lower half of his face was covered in blood, down his neck and over his chest. His white s.h.i.+rt was stained with it.

Human blood.

The scent was...intoxicating.

I'd smelled human blood before, but not like this. I'd recently inhaled Brandon's blood. But this was...sweet, with just a hint of bitter. I...wanted it.

Michel stepped away. "I'll be out." He pointed to Craft. "Clean this up."

When he turned I finally stepped away from Jared, who still kept a hand on me. "What about your Ghoul? He's bleeding to death."

"His punishment for pointing out my mistake is to make himself stop bleeding. He's resourceful...he'll figure it out."

I watched as Michel strolled back to the stairs and took them two at a time up.

"Docki!"

She dropped the bagged blood, ran over to Craft, kicked him hard, and then ran up after Michel. I heard him in the garage, and then I heard a high performance car engine start.