Secret Worlds (196 page)

“No, I won’t. I don’t plan on ever mating.”

Meg gave her a knowing look. “We’ll see.”

“Well, I think risking your life for a good lay is stupid.” Amaia was surprised at the venom in her words, but Meg didn’t seem to mind.

“It’s more than that. The companionship, knowing there’s someone out there who understands you. That level of devotion and loyalty. Knowing that wherever I go, I’m never alone.”

“Lawrence gives me that.”

“The bond between child and sire is strong, but it doesn’t compare. Not really. You don’t see my or Liam’s maker here, do you? There’s a reason you only swap venom-blood with your mate. There is no deeper connection than giving yourself to another and taking some of them into safe keeping. That’s why a mate’s death is so devastating. They are literally taking a part of the other to the grave.”

Still, if Lawrence saw no reason to mate, then she didn’t know why she would either. That didn’t stop Amaia from being curious. “Is it like falling in love as a human?”

“It’s much stronger, more intense. Why, were you in love as a human?”

“Yes, but I’m having a hard time remembering the emotion. I don’t understand it.”

“You’re still young. It takes time to remember those human emotions, and you’ll honestly never feel them the same way as you did then.”

At that moment, gray eyes entered her mind and bore into her soul with their fire. Amaia gasped and shook her head, willing the image to dissipate.

“What is it? Does Lawrence need something?” She heard concern in Meg’s voice.

“No, it’s nothing.” Not even Lawrence knew of her visions. Amaia didn’t need to tell Meg about them to know that it wasn’t normal for a vampire to be haunted by her first kill.

***

By the time they arrived in Vienna, Amaia and Meg were the best of friends. Amaia didn’t know how. She didn’t even particularly want a friend, but something about the other woman lured her. Once Meg had it in her head to befriend Amaia, Amaia didn’t think she had much choice in the matter. At any rate, it was nice to have someone to talk to, someone besides Lawrence who could call her by her proper name.

“It’s time for your friends to leave.” Lawrence was in Amaia’s new room in the house Zenas had purchased for them, helping her unpack and settle in.

“What? No.”

“No?” Lawrence’s tone was dangerous, but Amaia didn’t care. She was always doing as she was told and hardly ever asked for anything in return. “What do you mean, no?”

“I want her to stay.” Amaia put down the dress she held to look him in the eye.

“She got to see you and confirm the truth of the rumors. It’s time for her to leave.”

Amaia’s eyes narrowed. “That’s why you said our destination aloud. You wanted her to follow us. You wanted there to be rumors about me.”

“Rumors add to your power and prestige. And I wanted you to learn more about mating.”

That caught her off guard. “Why? It’s a terrible weakness. I don’t understand why anyone would do it.”

Lawrence raised his brow. “Some say it makes one stronger.”

“It makes you weak. Anyone who has the power to cause my death has too much and is not a friend.”

“Good.” Lawrence nodded. “I’m glad you realize that. Now that the lesson has been learned, she needs to go.” Lawrence returned to unpacking.

“But I like her. Please, Lawrence. I need a friend. I enjoy her company. I need to be able to be myself sometimes. I get so lost in all these identities I take on. Please. I won’t let it interfere with my work. I promise.” Amaia grasped his arm, willing him to meet her eyes.

Amaia held Lawrence’s stern gaze. She wouldn’t let him look away. This was too important to her. Finally, his face relaxed. “Fine. But if I judge she’s a bad influence on you, I won’t hesitate to send her packing.”

Amaia grinned and threw her arms around Lawrence’s neck, giving him a peck on the cheek. “Thank you. I promise you won’t regret it.”

His arms wrapped around her. “I hope not. It’s worrisome how easily your charms work on me when I’m the one who taught them to you.”

Amaia stepped back. “Don’t worry. It’s only because I’m your favorite child.”

“You’re my only child.”

“Exactly. Don’t go making any more.” Amaia grinned and skipped from the room, on her way to tell Meg the good news.

Vienna, May 1646, 2 years, 3 months later

Amaia and Meg sat in one of the balconies inside St. Michael’s Church, listening to Liam take confession below. This had become one of their favorite games. There was something delicious about feeding from humans in their place of worship, where they felt the safest. Humans knelt to pray, and Liam would whisper in their ears, pretending to be the voice of God, taking sips from their necks as he went. Amaia or Meg would pretend to be the Virgin Mary. It was easy to sneak up behind penitents, and the vampires moved quickly enough that the mortals couldn’t catch them.

It was especially amusing to Amaia, who had attended mass at the church with the royal court. If only her clients knew what she got up to when she left them. A wonderful crypt below the church made it all too convenient to dispose of bodies if merely drinking led to killing. It was almost as if the church had been designed for their convenience. They could have hours of fun while the priest slept in his chamber, recovering from blood loss.

In the ornately carved stall, Liam took confession. Amaia found it hilarious to hear what concerned these humans and quaint that they believed in a god who listened, who cared about the way they conducted their everyday lives. The truly devout were the best. Drinking their blood while they sought redemption through the blood of another. Such delicious irony.

An impressive fresco adorned one of the arches. Amaia found it difficult to comprehend that humans were capable of creating such beauty. She wondered if it hadn’t, in fact, been painted by a vampire. She made a mental note to ask Lawrence. Gazing at the figure of one of the apostles, Amaia could make out every brushstroke. The painting seemed illuminated from within. The man’s eyes appeared almost full of life. Amaia sat transfixed until the eyes morphed into the all familiar gray. She shook her head.

“What’s wrong?” Meg cocked her chin to the side.

“Nothing.”

“Don’t tell me that. I see you shaking your head a lot lately.”

The mild inquisitiveness in Meg’s voice was deceiving. Amaia knew from experience that she wouldn’t stop pursuing an answer. “I can’t get my first kill out of my mind.”

“That’s all?” Meg went back to watching the parishioners. “Don’t worry about it. That’s how it is for everyone.”

Meg’s cavalier dismissal of Amaia’s confession put her at ease. Perhaps Amaia wasn’t as disturbed as she feared. “I can’t help it.”

“Trust me. It’s normal. No kill will ever compare to it. Don’t make the mistake of chasing after it.” Meg shot her a wary glance from the corner of her eye.

“That’s what Lawrence says.”

Meg nodded. “He’s smart. I’ve seen vampires go crazy, killing recklessly, trying to recreate that first high. One of the clans always steps in and destroys them. Such a waste.”

“No, I’m smarter than that. I love the kill, but I don’t let it control me.” She wouldn’t accede to her bloodlust, no matter how tempting it was.

“Good.”

They sat in silence for a while, listening to a man below confess. He was guilty of so many sins. It seemed like it would be easier for the man to forsake his demanding God than live in tormented guilt.

Once the man finished, Liam sent him out to pray, and Amaia lost interest. “How did you handle it?”

“What?” Meg still watched the scene below.

“The images of your first kill. His eyes haunt me. I swear, sometimes I think I’ll go mad.”

“What do you mean, haunt you?” Meg focused her attention on Amaia.

“He flashes before me. I’ll see him randomly in my mind. Always his eyes. I try to ignore it, but it just gets worse.”

Meg shook her head. “I’ve never had that happen.”

“What?” A chill settled in Amaia as her heart slowed. “I thought you said it was normal to think about your first kill.”

“To think about it, yes, not to be haunted by the person. Have you told Lawrence about this?” Meg placed a hand on Amaia’s arm, radiating concern.

“No. He didn’t much like the man.”

Meg’s eyes widened. “You knew him?”

“Yes. He was my betrothed.” Amaia’s eyes wandered to where her thumb caressed the vacant spot on her finger. She had hoped the absence of the ring would lessen the visions.

“What?” This time Meg’s surprise wasn’t confined to her face. Her exclamation echoed in the church. Below, Liam coughed to hide it, shooting a glare in their direction.

Amaia’s head snapped up at the tone of Meg’s voice. “He was the first person I saw after Lawrence bit me.”

“Wow. That’s quite the turn.”

“How strong can love be if I killed the man I loved?”

“Love has nothing to do with it. Your transformation kill is pure instinct. You’d kill your own mother in that moment. You have to, otherwise you’ll die. You can’t be blamed for that.”

Amaia didn’t care about blame. She just wanted the haunting to stop. She wanted to understand why it happened. Everyone seemed to experience life differently than she did. “I know. But still, a vampire would never kill her mate.”

“No.” The answer came quick and strong, as if Meg couldn’t allow even a doubt.

A young woman entered the church, and Liam ushered her into the confessional. It appeared the girl was guilty of impure thoughts. She had let one of the local boys have his way with her. Poor girl. At this rate she would never experience truly good sex. Especially if she kept crying about it.

“Do you really enjoy sex with humans?” Meg too watched the confessional as she listened.

The question startled Amaia. “Yes. Why wouldn’t I? It feels incredible.”

“Hmm. How can you share something so tactile with someone who can’t feel the way we do?”

“I have nothing but my mortal experience to compare it to.”

“Maybe you should try it with a vampire sometime.”

Amaia snorted. “Yes, with all my spare time and the hordes of single vampires crawling around.”

“There’re plenty of nomads.”

“I don’t want to mate.”

Meg laughed. “I know, but I’m not talking about mating. You need to just try sex with a vampire first. It wouldn’t be fair to you to jump straight to mating. Too much of a shock to your system.” Meg went still. Amaia recognized the sign that she was speaking with her mate. “Liam wants to know if you want to take this one. Seems like you’re the proper holy mother for a promiscuous woman to pray to.”

Amaia smiled and jumped down, her knees softening her landing. There was no need to dwell on puzzles that wouldn’t be solved, especially not when there was fun to be had.

***

“Zenas has an assignment for you.” Lawrence sat waiting in Amaia’s room when she returned from the church.

“Lovely.” Amaia rolled her eyes.

Lawrence glared at her. “This is important. Zenas is tired of this bloody war, and the Holy Roman Emperor is the key to peace. We need to make sure he heads in that direction.”

Amaia flounced into a chair. “I don’t understand why Zenas cares so much what the humans do, as long as they keep making more humans for us to feed on.”

“All the turmoil right now is over religion. Instability and faith do not mix. There are renewed witch hunts taking place at this moment in England. You’ve seen witch hunts before. They don’t bode well for us.”

Fire was a concern. Recalling the images from Frankfurt made her shudder. Some lone vampires had been killed by torch-bearing mobs with hearts full of God’s righteous fury. “So he thinks by bringing an end to this war, it will help calm the entire situation. What does he want me to do, bed Ferdinand himself and keep him on the edge until he agrees to do whatever’s necessary for peace?”

Lawrence gave a mirthless smirk. “Hardly. There’s a viscount he wants you to bed, an up-and-coming young man and a devout Catholic, maybe too devout. We don’t need any man coming to power who won’t settle for less than total Catholic control. With Ferdinand giving the German states sovereignty in foreign affairs, Zenas is concerned that it may prompt some of them to grab more power than they were given. Find out where Christof stands and if there is any talk of one of the German leaders making a play for power. Peace is still a long way off. We don’t need it delayed unnecessarily. I also want you to make note of the viscount’s energy, see if there’s anything different about it. We could use a good breeding in this area.”

Amaia sighed and stood. “Yes, I know, Lawrence. I still haven’t felt one that is all that different. We’ve been breeding strong auras to strong auras, and it still hasn’t produced anything other than strength. No humans are special.”

“You were. That’s why you’re here, and most of the girls you were working with are now dead.”

Had that much time really passed? Looking back, she supposed it must have. If they weren’t dead, they were certainly too old to be working in the same profession. Odd. “Zenas isn’t going to let you get away with turning another one.”

“No, not right now he won’t. But it doesn’t matter. There isn’t anyone who’s ready for the transformation. I’m willing to be patient. I’m hoping to create another you. Of course, it took me over two hundred years to find you, and you literally just showed up on my doorstep. It doesn’t help that you were an orphan. I’d give anything to know who your parents were.”

“You and me both. Except I would want to kill them.” Amaia had spent her early years living on the streets until she had knocked on Lawrence’s door looking for work as a scullery maid. She had known who he was and had seen the women he employed. Her plan had always been to become a courtesan.

“Well, time has done your work for you.”

“I suppose it has.” Even if it hadn’t, it soon would. It was an interesting thought to ponder when she had some more time. Amaia smiled. “If only the great master could see you now: his favorite making him proud.”

“Don’t think about him. We just do what he wants so he’ll leave us in peace. Now go get ready. You’ll bed the young man tonight.” Lawrence left her alone.