Bound in Blood (Broken Bloodlines Book 3)
Bound in Blood: Chapter 6

I sit on the edge of the bed, holding my head in my hands. It’s been over two hundred years since I felt the adverse morning-after consequences of overindulging in alcohol—a major perk of being a vampire is the lack of hangovers—but I remember it clearly. And it’s the only comparison I have for the way I’m feeling. Is this how the deterioration starts? Does it really start this early?

In the two weeks since our arrival, our first Christmas and New Year’s with our girl came and went without notice, and Ophelia has remained steadfastly dedicated to her ambition of reading every single book in Giorgios’s fortress. After we got through the first lot of piles and found nothing, she simply created a new catalog and sorted out more books and more topics and has been unwavering in her certainty that the answers are in there somewhere. And for the first week and a half, we were equally committed. But with every book we read and discarded came more failure, more hopelessness. And while it seemed to spur her on, the rest of us only grew more miserable and dejected. Or perhaps the misery has more to do with how we all started feeling like crap yesterday.

Giorgios leaves every day, usually returning a few hours later with no news of Lucian’s whereabouts and no answers about any-fucking-thing at all. For a powerful ancient vampire, he seems pretty damn useless to me. I almost told him as much yesterday, but Ophelia persuaded me not to. She’s grateful to him for helping us scour through books and pointing us in directions we wouldn’t have otherwise considered. So I relented after begrudgingly admitting that—other than essentially keeping us prisoner—he’s been a gracious host.

Ophelia kneels behind me, running her warm hands over my back and shoulders. Despite my delicate state, pleasure courses through me at the feel of her skin on mine. The animal inside me has no ability to hold back where she’s concerned.

“Are you okay?” she asks, her lips against my ear. “Is there something I can do?”

I groan. “Just keep doing that, princess.”

Xavier comes in through the bathroom door, dark circles under his eyes and a pallor to his usually olive skin that makes him look waxy. “You still feeling like shit too?”

“Yup.”

“Kai too. He went for some fresh air to clear his head. What the fuck, dude? I haven’t felt this bad since I was human.”

Ophelia’s despair washes over me in a thick wave, threatening to pull me under. I take her hand in mine and link our fingers. “We’ll be okay. Maybe it’s the thin air up here or something.”

“Vampires aren’t affected by mountain air, Axl,” she says.

Xavier falls onto the bed and lies back with his hands behind his head. “Cupcake isn’t stupid, dude. She knows what this is.”

She rests her chin on my shoulder, and I feel her emotions cut off, as though she’s barricading her despair behind a wall of steel so it won’t bleed into us. “I didn’t realize it would happen so soon.”

“We have time,” I assure her. But I don’t know how long. It could be weeks or months. Maybe even days. The thought of leaving her behind without us makes my heart splinter into a million shards. I can’t think about it for more than a second or it will render me immobile.

“We should go ask Giorgios if he has any answers for us,” she says, jumping to her feet. “It’s been over a week. There must be something, and he knows more about this than any of us.”

It takes a lot of grumbling and groaning for Xavier and me to get on our feet and get dressed, but a few minutes later, we’re following her out of the room to go replace Kai.

We’ve been sitting in Giorgios’s study for ten minutes already, having disturbed him reading through some scrolls which he informed us are related to the Order. He has also declared them of no help at all and given us permission to read them ourselves.

We asked him about the sickness, about Lucian, and what he’s learned in the time we’ve been here. Surely he must have discovered something useful on one of his daily trips to wherever the hell it is he goes. But thus far, he’s revealed nothing more than we already knew. He did make sure to reiterate the fact that he doesn’t know of a single recorded case of a vampire ever surviving without their sire, but I guess the bright side is how it could take up to two years. Asshole.

Giorgios runs his fingers through his beard and brings them to a point underneath his chin. He reminds me so much of Alexandros. I blink away the tears burning my eyes before he can see them, but the cyclone of grief has already taken up residence where my heart once used to beat.

“Who was the first of you to bite Ophelia?” he asks.

What the fuck has that got to do with how long we have before the deterioration takes us?

He doesn’t look at us as he waits for an answer, and my hackles rise. I guess Ophelia feels the same because she asks, “Does that make a difference?”

Giorgios shakes his head, flashing us all an easy smile. “No. I was merely curious.” He stares at the four of us like he’s waiting for our answer, and we stare back, the room thick with our silence.

Giorgios’s smile remains in place, but still, he waits.

Is this weird or what? Xavier asks through our link.

Definitely weird, I reply.

“I was the first,” Malachi says aloud.

None of us bat an eyelid at his blatant lie.

Giorgios frowns, his eyes narrowing. “You were?”

Malachi folds his arms across his chest, tipping his chin up. “Yeah. Isn’t that right, sweet girl?”

Closing her book, she flashes him a sweet smile and lets him pull her onto his lap. “Yep. My first everything, Kai.”

I suppress the growl that the beast inside me is intent on expressing. I know I was her first, and so do they. It doesn’t fucking matter what we tell Giorgios. But I don’t like the guy. I don’t like him asking us questions that are none of his business. He might be protecting us from Lucian, but I can’t bring myself to fully trust him. One thing I do know is he should have protected Alexandros, and I will never forgive him for allowing him to die.

“I assume, then, given your questions this morning, you have not yet found anything in your research to indicate a potential cure for your mates’ certain fate, Ophelia?” Giorgios asks. Why is he being such an asshole today?

A cloud of sorrow passes over her face for only a second before being replaced with her usual look of steely determination. “No. Not yet, but I will. There must be something, mustn’t there?”

He taps his steepled fingers against his lips and hums. Finally, he says, “I believe there must, if only we could be certain of where to replace it.”

Malachi coughs. “Well, if you could replace it real quick, we’d sure appreciate it.”

I lean forward in my chair and watch Giorgios intently. “Do you not think it’s odd we all started to get sick at exactly the same time?”

“Perhaps.” He shrugs. “I have not been in the company of vampire brothers who have lost their sire before, so I cannot say for certain.”

“You’ve never come across groups of vampires who’ve lost their sire before?” My tone is accusatory, but I don’t care. He’s over two thousand years old, and I don’t buy it.

“Groups, yes. Many groups. But not families such as yourselves. Alexandros raised you like brothers, and I am sure it must have an impact on your …” He pauses like he’s searching for the word. “Deterioration.”

Fucking asshole.

Malachi shifts in his seat, jostling Ophelia on his lap. “But I thought age and strength were the determining factors?”

“Usually, yes. But given how you have all started to weaken at the same time, then perhaps it is affected by more than that. Perhaps it is the strength of the bond which determines the speed of deterioration. It is not an exact science, so we simply cannot know for sure. But we must learn. I have arranged to meet with an ancient seer in five days’ time.”

I sure as fuck hope that’s the good news he’s presenting it to be. “Why five days? Can’t you transport straight to this person?”

He shakes his head. “She refuses to meet with me anywhere but the country of our birth, and it will take her time to clear her schedule and travel to Greece. But I am hopeful she will have some of the answers we seek.”

“Please, can we come with you?” Ophelia asks. “I’m sure Enora will give you the spell if you ask her, and we can tap into my power. Elementai magic is similar to witch magic, only channeled differently. I’m sure we can make it work.”

“There’s no way we’d risk your safety like that, princess.” I lock eyes with Giorgios. “But I could go with you.” Both Malachi and Xavier immediately add their willingness to participate too.

Giorgios narrows his deep-blue eyes and pauses for a few seconds before shaking his head. “We cannot be absolutely sure it would work without a powerful witch’s spell. If the circumstances were so dire that we had to try …” He shakes his head again. “I am confident you are powerful enough, Ophelia, but Axl is right, we cannot risk you. Any of you.” He indicates all of us with a nod. “I know our relationship has been somewhat strained, but please believe me when I tell you that I am doing all I can to protect each of you. I will replace a cure for the deterioration, and I am hopeful the seer will point me in the right direction. Besides, she does not welcome strangers.” He huffs a small laugh. “It took some convincing to persuade her to meet with me.”

My attention is drawn to the other side of the room by a clearing throat. “Sire, you are needed in the courtyard,” Imari says.

Is that a look of relief on his face? Maybe he summoned her here with a fake emergency to avoid further pressure to take one of us with him.

We trust him, don’t we? Ophelia asks through our bond after he leaves the room.

Let’s see what he has to say after his visit to the seer, Malachi says.

I give my agreement.

The guy has been nothing but accommodating since we got here, but … I don’t know. Xavier’s brow furrows. Something just doesn’t feel right about the way we all got sick.

Ophelia shifts on Malachi’s lap, her book clasped in her hands. Wait? Do you think he’s somehow making you sick?

What, like poisoning us? I ask.

Xavier huffs and flops down on the sofa beside Malachi and Ophelia. I’m saying we shouldn’t rule anything out. He could be doing all he can to try to replace a cure for us, or he could be giving us poisoned blood. He’s always been very generous with his supply. And outside of the people in this room, I truly don’t know who or what I trust anymore.

Malachi wrinkles his nose like he’s deep in thought. You really think he’d do that, though? I mean, why risk it when the sickness will get us all at some point eventually?

Speed up the process? Xavier shrugs. Get Ophelia all to himself a little faster?

Ophelia’s sadness is profound, but she masks it quickly. Malachi presses a kiss against her forehead. “You okay, sweet girl?”

She nods. “Yeah, it’s just a lot to think about.”

“Yeah, it really fucking is.” Xavier sighs. “My fucking head hurts.”

My mind is racing with questions and suspicions and doubts, and I would give anything to hear Alexandros’s calm voice. The way he could cut through the chatter and help me focus was a skill I didn’t realize I’d miss so much. Let’s think this through. If we’re actually considering the possibility that Giorgios is poisoning us to make us get sicker faster, why? What would be his endgame?

I already told you. Getting us out of the way so he can have Ophelia to himself, Xavier replies. You heard what he said about Lucian, about why people want our girl. Power. What if that’s all Giorgios is after too?

He may even believe it would be easier to protect her without us around, Malachi suggests, ever the optimist.

That’s still a pretty big accusation to make, guys, Ophelia says.

It’s a fucking huge accusation, and the ramifications are even bigger. Because if it’s true, then we all willingly walked into the lion’s den and put our girl in a whole heap of fucking danger. Yeah, but we’re all thinking it, aren’t we?

Ophelia sits up straighter, her eyes wide and shining. We need to test the theory.

How, Cupcake?

For the next week, you only feed on me. If you stop getting sick, then we’ll know you’re being poisoned. And meanwhile, we keep reading and researching and looking for a way out of here.

I shake my head. While I wholeheartedly agree with the second element of your plan, there’s not a chance you’re sustaining three hungry vampires all on your own. That’s a hell of a lot of blood, princess. You need to keep your own strength up. You’re already weakened here because of the whole sacred ground shit.

My blood still replenishes more quickly than when I was human, or at least when we thought I was human. I’ll make sure to eat and drink plenty and look after myself in every other way. Please, Axl? This is the one way we can know for sure.

Logically it makes sense, but I still hate the thought of us being so reliant on her. We should be the ones protecting her. Even if, in a roundabout way, this still achieves that. I don’t know.

Xavier runs a hand through his hair and sighs. She has a point, Axl. Ophelia isn’t sick. If we only drink from her, then we’ll know for sure.

If I get too weak, we can stop, she insists, her pleading blue eyes locked on my face.

Finally, I relent, hoping we are in fact being poisoned. The alternative is too terrifying to contemplate.