Page 28 of The Child of Rue Royale
Then, the realization of it, the horror of what I was doing hit me like a bullet. I gave him no choice in the matter; he didn’t even know what I was, and I had paralyzed him during my feeding so that he couldn’t even protest if he wanted to. I pulled off him, and he found his voice, screams erupting as his hand raced to his neck.He paled instantly, eyes wide in terror, and in that moment, I knew I had to either kill the man that had become my very best friend, or I had to turn him. The decision was instant. I pounced back on top of him.
Helifted his arms, trying to fight me off, the look of despair on his face breaking my heart. Now I was a monster, now I was a villain when before, I was a friend. How could I live with myself? Would he ever forgive me? Yet, there was no time to pontificate such questions. He needed my blood and quickly.
“Bastian. You once asked me if there was more to this life. I’m telling you, yes. There is. And I’m going to show it to you. I will spend the rest of my days making this up to you. I am so sorry.”
If your heart is just a muscle in your chest, why does it physically ache when you’ve done something irreparable? When you’re filled with nothing but remorse?
I nicked my wrist with a fang, resisting the urge to shed a tear over betraying my friend. I plugged his nose, and his mouth opened, gasping for air, attempting to shout, but was quickly met with a wrist full of blood. The screams suddenly ceased and were replaced by moans of pleasure only feeding can emit.
He was a selfish drinker, so much so that I could hardly pry my wrist from his salty mouth. The blood I had never wanted to see on him painted his lips in the most beautiful shade of crimson. And there it was, my heart eviscerating every second that passed, the progeny I had made, swore to never make, and he blinked back at me, staring in the old bathroom in nothing but wonder.
The shame I felt swallowed me whole. I had turned a bright, beautiful soul to a dark world on the floor of a bathroom bar. How could he ever look at me again? How could I live with myself? But most importantly, how could he ever forgive me?
I COULDN’T LOOK AT HIM, couldn’t bear witness to what I had created. I stayed in my room, bound to sitting on the edge of my bed for hours on end, regret making a prisoner out of me.
“Darling, you must eat,” Nicola had said through the crack of my door.
“I’m never eating again,” I declared, but she only laughed at how ludicrous I was.
“Cassius, if you didn’t do it, he was sure to die. You and I knew this from the start.”
“We made a promise, Mother!” I shouted, back stiffening, head in my hands. It was too risky to create vampires, a part of our oath. Create only out of necessity, for a mate, for companionship. Doing so was a great commitment. Time and energy had to be poured into the newborn, teaching them, assuring they didn’t put our existence in harm’s way. New vampires were to be carefully selected and should be responsible humans. Something Bastian clearly was not.
Being a solitary creature, I wasn’t meant to be a father. It was something I never wanted. I had done the worst thing a vampire could do. Create a child only to be abandoned, just a mirror of what my own father had done to me.
The pain barreled through me again, and I rose, pacing as if that would get it out of my bones.
Nicola pressed her hands against my chest attempting to soothe me. “We make mistakes, every day we make mistakes.”
“I can’t be a father to a grown man! I won’t!” I shouted, and Nicola’s eyes squinted.
“Would you rather I stake him?” she asked, and I stopped in my tracks, the idea disgusting me.
“Don’t,” I said, andshe sighed.
Grabbing my chin, she forced me to meet her gaze, her face hard as steel.
“I made you. Do you hate me so?” she asked, knowing the answer to an absurd question.
“I begged you to turn me. Don’t be ridiculous.”
“Look, it will be our secret. We’ll tell every vampire we know I made him. He will be my son. And you will be his brother. Do you understand?”
“We can’t keep a secret like that,” I exhaled, and she only smirked.
“Who are you kidding?” she said with a wink. “We are the creators of secrets. It’s how we survive. Now get your behind to Nightwalkers and feed.”
She kissed my cheek then, willing to carry my burden for me, willing to erase what I had done and make it hers. And I allowed it, I did. That became the night Nicola had not one, but two sons.
It was our secret. I couldn’t be the maker Bastian needed, so Nicola mercifully stepped into the role. Bastian and I would always be linked by blood and hold a special bond, but Nicola would be the mother every newborn vampire needed, deserved. Just how she was that mother to me.
I kept my distance as she taught the new world to Bastian, as she trained him how to feed, as she gave him all the knowledge he needed to survive his new existence. I stayed away from Comey’s and the speakeasy that month, and if I saw them walking in my direction on the street, I turned the other way. I worried how Bastian would feel about me, if he hated me, if the vision of me taking his life in the bathroom haunted him as it haunted me.
Until one night, as I sat at my piano playing a slow tune I had been composing, they walked through the door, and I was forced to face what I had done. My heart spasmed with anger at Nicola. For not warning me, not preparing me for what I anticipated as an ambush, but the moment I met his eyes, the anger faded and was replaced by something else. Something close to wonder.
Bastian made a breathtaking vampire. Green eyes that glowed. A complexion smooth as marble. Dark hair perfectly mussed. A chiseled jawline and cheekbones that looked as though they’d been carved by an artist. He wore a navy shirt tucked into slacks, the sleeves rolled up revealing intricate veins now filled with vampire blood.
My brother.
