Blood Curse Page 12

  "Your job?"

  Rialto laughed at the way her brow furrowed, as if she was confused by the prospect of him having a job. “Yeah, my job. Vampires need money too, you know. We can't buy cars and houses with our charm."

  "So what do you do?” Her brows were still drawn together, her beautiful emerald eyes intense with curiosity.

  "I'm a bounty hunter."

  Her eyes widened for a moment, then she nodded. “I see, but I never offered you any money to catch this guy. I probably couldn't afford it."

  "Some jobs I don't mind doing pro bono. My car is parked up here.” He led her two feet up the sidewalk, where his rental was parked at the curb. “I wanted to make sure we weren't followed by any of the press,” he explained as he opened the passenger door and helped her inside.

  Once in his seat, he started the car and turned his head to look at Aria. “Are you getting by all right? Does your art provide you with enough income?” Her apartment was small and not in the best of neighborhoods, but he knew that could be personal choice.

  "I do all right,” she answered softly as she gazed out the windshield. “I used to do a lot of pottery and sculpture for this little store near the art district but since my mother died, I've been mostly living off her life insurance. It's not enough to live off of indefinitely, but it'll get me through this period. I just haven't felt like making anything bright and cheerful lately, you know?"

  "I understand perfectly,” Rialto answered as he put the Sedan in drive and pulled onto the street. He made a silent vow to himself as he navigated the car through the dark streets. As long as Aria Michaels walked the same earth as him, she would never struggle.

  Seta grimaced as she watched Rialto's back shudder from the force of his retching. The moment she'd seen him pull his car into the church's small parking lot she'd known he hadn't let fate guide him. He still refused to share his blood with Aria. And now he was paying the price.

  A few hours ago, they'd left Aria in Christian's hands and ventured out into the night, intending to search Baltimore's parks for more clues as to what kind of monster they were up against, but Rialto had needed to feed. His stomach had been practically roaring.

  Two victims later she stood behind him in a darkened alley as he vomited his last victim's blood. She had told him he needed to drink from Aria, but he was stubborn, a trait he'd inherited from his father.

  Seta bristled at the thought of the man who had planted his seed inside her, whispering words of love as he used her body to produce the one thing his wife could never give him: An heir. No matter how long she roamed the earth, she would never recover from the pain she'd felt the day her tiny son was ripped from her arms by his own father. The wealthy and heartless Count Roberto Garibaldi had informed her that Rialto was to be known as the son of he and his lovely wife, the countess. When she'd fought for her son, the count savagely beat her and then tossed her off a cliff. Twenty-eight years later she'd found Rialto bleeding to death on that same cliff and changed him over.

  Seta shook off the memories of the events that had happened on those cliffs. They only served to fuel her anger.

  "Rialto, you will find only soured blood until you accept fate's plan for you. Can't you see what is happening?"

  "I've listened to enough of this nonsense, Mother!"

  "It's not nonsense! Look at all the signs."

  "If Aria and I were part of the Blood Revelation, she'd have to be an immortal."

  "She will be an immortal if she is changed over."

  "She would also have to have some sort of special power. In all the stories I've heard, the predestined mates will each have an ability or genetic trait to pass along to their offspring. I would make sense because I am a vampire. My mate, however, would need a different trait to pass along so there you go. Aria doesn't make sense, even if she were turned into a vampire because then we'd be passing along the same trait. You're desperate and seeing what you want to see."

  "Well, it seems as though I know a little something about your soul mate that even you haven't discovered,” Seta responded, grinning victoriously.

  "What did you do?” Rialto growled the question, his eyes narrowed into slits.

  "I barely probed her psyche, nothing that would cause her harm. However, I saw enough to know her mother was a born witch."

  Rialto shook his head. “No."

  Seta nodded. “Yes. Apparently, Mary Ayers was so good at keeping her powers a secret that even Aria didn't know, still doesn't, but that's the genetic trait she'll pass on. You know as well as I do that born witches skip a generation. Therefore, any child of Aria's will be a born witch."

  Rialto's mouth dropped open in shock, but then he closed it and gave her a smug smile. “It doesn't matter. Any child I have will be a born witch, so again she is canceled out of the equation. We are not part of the Blood Revelation."

  "Darling, why do you think you can read the minds of mortals while you feed from them? Do you think opening doors and windows with a simple wave of the hand, sensing emotions or levitating yourself to the tops of buildings are normal vampire traits? Shall I go on listing your special abilities?"

  "What are you saying?"

  "When I turned you, it was like I rebirthed you. Since it wasn't an actual birth, any child you have will not be a born witch because you took their turn. So Aria makes perfect sense. The two of you are soul mates and you are part of the Blood Revelation. All she needs is to be turned."

  "That doesn't make sense. Why would she need to be turned? She already carries the witch gene. There's no reason why she'd have to be a vampire."

  Seta huffed out a breath, her patience thin. Why did Rialto struggle so hard against his fate? “The child will be born a vampire. Can you imagine the toll a vampire child would take on its mother's womb? Do you really think a mortal woman could possibly be strong enough to carry to term a child with that much power?"

  Rialto shrugged. “I don't know. It's not as if vampires are born everyday."

  "No, they're not, but if they were I'd bet only a vampire mother could carry and nurse one. Only a vampire mother could protect one.” Seta held her breath and hoped Rialto would accept the only explanation she'd been able to come up with. It made sense to her.

  "I won't do it,” Rialto said as he rose from his knees and wiped the traces of blood from his mouth. “I won't risk Aria's life."

  "She's sick too, you stubborn mule. Sharing your blood can ease her pain as well!"

  "She's not a vampire. She'll get over this."

  She could lie and tell him that Aria wouldn't get over her need for his blood, but he was too smart for that. And whether he admitted it or not, he believed in The Blood Revelation. He was just too scared to accept that he and Aria were part of it.

  "You won't get over yours, Rialto. You need blood to survive."

  Rialto lowered his eyes to the ground as he walked past her toward the mouth of the alley. “The night's not getting any younger, and obviously I'm not going to get a good meal. Let's try and find this guy, preferably before he kills again."

  Seta stared after her only child, fighting back tears. She'd saved his life two times before. She didn't see how she could save him now. He had to change Aria over . . .

  If he didn't, he would die.

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  Chapter Ten

  Aria opened her eyes and gasped. She was surrounded by tall trees, tinged blue by the moonlight. There was no breeze, but the air was cold and crisp, sending a shiver down her spine. The coldness seemed to swirl around her, but not a single leaf moved in the trees or on the ground. That was when she realized it wasn't the air that was making her shiver but the knowledge . . . the dark and icy sense of foreboding that something horrible was about to happen.

  Aria.

  She whirled around as she heard her name called from somewhere behind her. She couldn't see anything except trees, but somebody was out there, somebody who knew her name.

  "Seta?” She called out
the vampire witch's name even though the female voice didn't sound like Seta's. The call was more of a whisper, but loud enough to be heard clearly, and there wasn't the slightest trace of a Spanish accent. “Seta? Please be you."

  Aria, come.

  "Oh, hell.” She felt the warning shivers quivering up her body, dotting her skin with goosebumps along the way. “I want to go back to the church."

  Wait a minute. She was at the church. She was sleeping in a pew. Aria laughed as she realized she was having a dream, a completely realistic, frightening dream.

  "Okay, all I have to do is wake up.” She closed her eyes and focused on waking, yet the coldness seemed to intensify. Then she heard the crunching of leaves in front of her.

  "Oh, I am so screwed,” she whimpered as the footsteps slowly neared. She kept her eyes closed, too terrified of what she would see if they were open. The louder the footsteps grew the more she shivered. She'd heard that when ghosts appear the temperature dropped to freezing. As cold as she was, it was as if death itself were walking toward her.

  Whomever or whatever it was stopped right in front of her, and she felt an icy cold breath blow over her face. Oh shit. It's right in front of me.

  "Aria. Open your eyes.” The voice was deeper now but scratchy. It sounded like the voice of a weak old woman. A hag.

  "No,” Aria said, struggling not to scream or cry. She had to think. This was a dream. It was all just a dream. “You're a dream, a nightmare. Go away."

  "Open your eyes, Aria. You must open your eyes."

  "Why?"

  "In order to have a future you must understand the past."

  "Who are you?"

  "A very old witch. They call me The Dream Teller. I won't hurt you."

  Aria recognized the name and realized this was the witch who'd sent Rialto to her, but still she couldn't open her eyes. It was so cold. She, this strange woman, was so cold. Cold and scary.

  "What do you want with me? Why are you so cold?"

  "I am not cold. You are sensing what you are about to see in the realm of your dreams and you are frozen with fear. You are right that this is a dream, Aria, but you can't wake yourself from it until you learn the secrets I have come to share with you. I am here to help you and Rialto. He is dying."

  Aria gasped, reflexively opening her eyes. Her gaze collided with a pair of platinum white orbs set in an old shriveled face. The woman was covered in a hooded cape, but a trail of long, ratty white hair peeked out from beneath the hood. She looked every inch like an evil old hag. Aria would have screamed and run, but the witch's eyes shocked her motionless.

  "You're blind."

  "Oh, but I still see clearly,” she answered with a crooked smile that looked ghastly against her pale wrinkled face. “Now you must see."

  The witch, or The Dream Teller, backed away and crooked a gnarled old finger, indicating that Aria should follow her as she walked back into the trees. Aria started to refuse, but then she felt another presence. Rialto.

  She followed the witch at a safe distance until they reached a clearing. They stopped at the edge of the trees and looked out upon a group of people dressed in nineteenth century attire. They were travelers, judging by the wagons sitting on the other side of the clearing. Men and women danced jovially around a bonfire as a small band performed music. They were dressed elegantly for travelers, obviously a rich family moving to new land. One woman stood to the side, leaning against a tree with a dreamy expression on her beautiful porcelain face. She's remembering the feel of Rialto's lips from the night before.

  Aria felt a pang of jealousy as the thought hit her. She didn't understand how she knew what was going through the ebony-haired beauty's mind, but she did. She heard the thought as if it were spoken aloud. She looked closer at the woman. She was dressed in a long dress made of the finest silk, a beautiful clear blue to match her eyes. Her long black curls were stacked and pinned into a regal style on her head, and her full ruby red lips were delicately arched into the faintest of smiles beneath her pert little nose. She was exquisite. Rialto loved her.

  "Yes,” The Dream Teller said, although Aria hadn't spoken aloud. “Her name was Antonia. She was Rialto's first love."

  Aria felt the need to scream as the hairs on the back of her neck stood straight up. The coldness grew more intense. “Someone's coming. Something horrible is going to happen to these people.” She looked at the witch and somehow could see the agreement in her sightless eyes. Then she looked at the wagons where she instinctively knew children slept. “We have to warn them."

  "It has already happened,” the witch advised, a trace of sadness in her voice. “You are watching a scene from 1842, and there is nothing you can do to alter it. They can't even see you, much less hear you."

  Aria's heart rose in her chest as she heard the sound of hooves pounding on the ground. She wanted to close her eyes, already sensing what was going to happen, but something compelled her to keep them open.

  The dancers around the bonfire halted when the men on horseback came into view, swords and axes ready at their sides. The look of terror in the travelers’ eyes gripped Aria's heart as they too sensed what was to come next.

  "I don't want to watch,” she whispered to the witch, turning her back on the scene. She folded her arms across her chest in a futile effort to ward off the cold and the helpless feeling of not being able to do anything to prevent the travelers’ doom. She listened against her will as the arguments ensued between the male travelers and the seven men on horseback, trying to block her ears with her hands. The arguing turned into screaming as the raiders robbed the travelers and killed the men who tried to protect their women.

  She felt the tears well up in her eyes as the women's agonized screams indicated they were being violated. The tears flowed freely when she felt the moment Antonia was raped by three of the attackers. She felt each stab of pain, each tear of intimate flesh as the woman was repeatedly violated. Mostly, she felt the pain in Antonia's heart as the woman thought Rialto would no longer want her. She would never bear his children. She didn't know what Rialto was.

  "No, she had no idea he was a vampire,” the witch said, reading her mind again.

  After what seemed like hours Aria turned and saw the bodies of the male travelers littering the ground. From behind the trees at the other side of the clearing, two women crawled toward the wagons where children's horrified faces peeked out. Aria wanted to scream in outrage, but she couldn't find her voice.

  "Come,” the witch instructed, leading Aria through the clearing. She cringed as they walked around the bodies of the victims, some dead, some close to it, but she followed behind the witch as if in a trance.

  They entered the trees at the other side of the clearing and followed the trail of blood. Antonia's blood. Aria cried out in horror when they came upon her body sprawled beneath a tree, covered in her own blood and half naked. Aria could feel the anger and pain radiating from within Antonia's limp body as the woman wished with her dying breaths that the men who attacked her would suffer. She wished their blood would spill for what they had done.

  "She was so full of hate and vengeance after the assault,” the witch stated softly as she raised her hand to the sky. It suddenly grew even darker. “Rialto has finished feeding. Now he will come."

  The witch had barely finished speaking when Aria felt his presence nearing. He was excited. He'd met with Antonia nightly for weeks, as her family traveled to their new home. He had fallen in love with her quickly, intrigued by her purity and beauty. She was so innocent, such an opposite to the darkness which surrounded him. He knew he would eventually have to tell her what he was, and that frightened him, but he hoped their love could survive her initial shock.

  Aria felt her heartbeat quicken as he neared the clearing. She couldn't see him but she felt his terror as he saw the bodies and realized what happened.

  "Where's Antonia?” she heard him ask, fear and rage lacing his voice.

  Aria blinked when she saw him come into
view. He was dressed in the style of the century, but otherwise he looked exactly the same. As he came upon Antonia's dying body, he looked so real Aria reached out to touch him, only to discover that her hand wouldn't go the distance. There seemed to be an invisible shield between them.

  "He is not real, just a memory. You can't comfort him here."

  Aria didn't respond to the witch's comment. She felt an excruciating pain in her chest. Instinctively, she covered her heart with her hand, knowing Rialto's emotions were surging through her. His heart was breaking.

  "Antonia?” His voice trembled with fear, sorrow, and anger. The emotions battled with each other for dominance as he kneeled next to Antonia's weak body. He wanted to scream, to cry, to kill, but mostly he wanted to save Antonia's life. “Antonia, please answer me."

  "Rialto?” Antonia's voice was weak, fading like the rest of her. She moved her battered head, and Aria saw the recognition in her eyes as she gazed up into Rialto's face. She saw that recognition turn to shame as Antonia struggled to cover her exposed breasts.

  "It's all right, Antonia. I will not let you die. Have no fear. We will be one."

  "How?"

  "I will fill you with my blood, and after you sleep you will awake in a healthy, mended body."

  Antonia's eyes narrowed. “You lie to me so that I do not cross over with regrets and wander the earth instead of going to meet the Maker."

  "No, it is true,” Rialto said. “You will not die. I will not let you."

  Aria watched as Rialto's fangs descended. She could feel the anxiety coursing through his blood as he prayed that he did this right. He'd never changed anyone over, but he remembered how Seta had done it to him. Aria could also feel Antonia's emotions. She was horrified.

  "Vampire!” Her eyes widened in terror as she looked into Rialto's face. His fangs were fully descended and his eyes glowed with his dark power. "Diavolo!"

  "No!” Rialto cried as he felt the contempt and loathing in Antonia's tone, and Aria instinctively knew Antonia had called him devil. She felt the pain in Rialto's heart, and once again wanted to comfort him, but she was helpless to do so. “It is a gift, Antonia. My mother saved me from death in the same way."