Blood Interwoven: The Laurent Blood Legacy- 4 (Magic New Mexico Book 52)
Blood Interwoven:The Laurent Blood Legacy 4
Magic, New Mexico #52
Evelyn Lederman
Contents
Internal Title Page
Foreword
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
About the Author
Amazon Links
Blood Interwoven
The Laurent Blood Legacy: Book 4
Magic, New Mexico Series- Book 52
By Evelyn Lederman
‘Blood Interwoven’
Copyright @ 2020 Evelyn Lederman
All rights reserved.
All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.
Edited by Tina’s Editing Services
Cover Design by Melody Simmons
The author of this Book has been granted permission by S.E. Smith to use the copyrighted characters and/or worlds created by S.E. Smith in this book; all copyright protection to the characters and/or worlds of Magic, New Mexico are retained by S.E. Smith
Created with Vellum
Foreword
Imagine The Worlds of Magic, New Mexico... A series that brings together outstanding paranormal and science fiction authors to expand a town where witches, aliens, vampires, werewolves, goblins, sorceresses, pirates, time travelers, and paranormal live in harmony - when they aren’t joining forces to defeat the bad guys. A magical town where being abnormal is the norm!
I’m S.E. Smith, the creator of Magic, New Mexico and I invite you to curl up with each book now and discover all the action, the magic, and the love that makes Magic, New Mexico the ultimate go-to series for Paranormal / Science Fiction Romance readers.
For all the stories, go to MagicNewMexico.com/books/
Grab your copy today!
Chapter 1
The shifting wind carried the scent of imminent death. He rubbed his nose to lessen the impact of the offensive odor. Interwoven within the putrid scents lay an altogether different aroma. Blood spilled possessed a particular bouquet which caused him to lick his lips.
He’d just arrived in Magic, New Mexico, and didn’t want his initial moments embroiled in a crime. Even in a town inhabited by fellow vampires, he wanted to maintain a low profile. He sought information, not drama.
Despite his mind reeling at the thought, he followed the alluring scent of the crimson gold, his elixir of life. Curiosity drew him forward. The perfumed blood now overpowered everything around it. A good deal of the being’s life-force had been lost. In mere moments, the being would die.
He walked into a dark alley. Was there any other kind? Over the years, he’d used such locations to feed in peace. Most people had the good sense to avoid the dangers such poorly lit areas represented.
A woman’s body lay twenty feet ahead. The moonless night provided little illumination. One sandal sat askew on her foot, the other beside her body. From his current vantage point, he couldn’t tell any more about the dying woman. Her assailant hadn’t bothered to stick around to greet the grim reaper while he collected her soul.
He inched forward, squatted, and took her hand. She wouldn’t die alone. Her throat had been slashed, yet she held onto life with a vigor that surprised him. This woman wouldn’t go quietly into the hereafter.
The tips of her shoulder length blond hair were drenched in blood. He looked past her gray pallor and gazed at the handsome woman, wondering what color eyes she possessed. Would they contain intelligence or the emptiness of a vapid personality? What a pity he’d never know.
She appeared to be on the cusp of middle age. Her bare, toned legs indicated she played some type of sport. What manner of creature had lured the attractive woman to her death? No vampire would have wasted the valuable commodity painting the ground near her neck.
The more he wondered, the more she intrigued him. In a move he believed he’d regret later, he bit into her wrist and released his venom into her bloodstream. Even after her heart stopped beating, his gift would continue to travel through her system, changing her into a creature of the night.
His eyes widened in surprise at the taste of her blood. Never had he tasted anything sweeter. Warmth spread through his system as her life-force generated sensations within him he hadn’t felt since his human days.
With reluctance, he removed his fangs from her wrist. Part of him wanted to drink until her heart ceased beating. It took a tremendous amount of willpower to stop. In the end, his desire to know this woman won out.
“Get away from her,” a deep male voice ordered.
The intrusion startled him. He couldn’t remember the last time someone had crept up behind him without his knowledge. His entire being had been captivated by the woman’s allure. Even now, he struggled to lift his eyes from her beguiling face.
His neck turned at a turtle’s pace, ready to stare down the man who dared to interrupt him. So much for his plan to keep a low profile. He’d have to manipulate the man’s memory, eating up valuable time. With each passing moment, others could stumble across the scene.
When he gazed up, the first thing he noticed was the sheriff’s badge. He swore under his breath.
A dragon shifter served as Magic’s chief law enforcement officer. His powers wouldn’t work on another supernatural being. He should’ve picked up the shifter’s scent, but the woman’s blood overwhelmed his senses.
The sheriff had chosen an inopportune time to conduct his evening rounds. Now he’d have to convince him someone else had assaulted her.
“I didn’t attack the woman,” he explained, not certain he would be believed. “The only way I could save her was to transform her.”
The sheriff didn’t respond to his statement, but walked around to the other side of the dead woman’s body. Her heart had ceased beating while he conversed with the sheriff. In a graceful movement for such a large man, the sheriff squatted beside her body and sniffed the surrounding area.
He’d come across few dragon shifters over the years and the sheriff fascinated him. Although he possessed human nostrils, they flared in an unusual way. Skin extended just past the tip of his nose. Only his sharp vampire vision had noted the slight alteration.
“Relax. A human did this,” the sheriff stated. “She’s his third victim. Thanks to you, I may have a witness who can identify him. How long will it be before she wakes?”
He shrugged. “Not to sound disrespectful, but she’ll come back to consciousness after her body has completed its transformation. I can’t say for sure how long it will take, but she’ll wake with a prodigious thirst. She’ll be worthless to you until she can control her need for blood.”
The sheriff gazed at the pedestrian traffic beyond the alley. It surprised him they didn’t have company. Humans were a curious lot.
“The name’s Theo, in case you’re wondering,” the sheriff said. “We better get her to my office and have bagged blood ready. Magic’s art festival is this weekend and the town is teeming with a buffet of warm blooded humans. I want her in a controlled environment when she wakes.”
When Theo attempted to gather the woman into his arms, he stopped him. It troubled him more than it should’ve to have another male touch her. She belonged to him.
Not wanting to dwell on his unwanted feelings, he concentrated on following Theo o
ut of the alley and onto the busy sidewalk.
As he moved along the crowded walkway, no one seemed curious about him carrying an unconscious woman drenched in blood. Humans went about their business, not bothering to give him a second look. Supernatural beings shifted their eyes away from him as they walked by.
They passed a variety of shops and restaurants as they made their way to the sheriff’s office. Crowds loitered in restaurant doorways waiting to be seated or congregated in front of storefront windows. Was the woman’s husband among them? He hadn’t noticed if she’d worn a wedding ring when he fed from her.
“In here,” the sheriff said as he opened the door to his office. “The cells are in the rear. They contain our only cots. Sometimes I nap back there between shifts. They aren’t very comfortable, but they serve our purposes.”
He didn’t like the idea of locking her up, but he didn’t want to irritate the sheriff. At least, not at this point. There were battles worth fighting and this wasn’t one of them.
Over the years, he’d learned to read people. The sheriff was a worthy adversary or perhaps a future friend. He never knew how things would turn out. For now, he’d keep his options open.
With care, he placed her on the small bed. Her face hadn’t lost the gray tones of death. She resembled a portrait by El Greco. There were no signs her new life had begun.
Since becoming a vampire, he’d never changed a woman. His companions had always been men, most of whom he’d found dying on battlefields throughout Europe and then the United States. He’d only traveled with two companions since the Civil War. Both men he’d found dying in hospice care.
Vampirism would cure diseases of the body, but not of the mind. He’d learned that lesson after converting a Confederate soldier. In the past, he always followed his future companions, getting to know them before they were mortally wounded. Beau Cartwright had been a thorn in his side from the day he transformed him into a vampire. Fortunately, he’d learned from his mistakes and selected his subsequent companions with more care.
He stared at the unconscious creature he’d just created. Had his impulsive act created another unstable fiend? Regardless, she was his responsibility. Although he had a new companion, he couldn’t turn his back on her.
“I called a friend to assist us,” the sheriff said. Once again, he’d been lost in his own thoughts, forgetting the sheriff’s proximity. “He acts as a deputy of mine when I’m dealing with vampires and other supernatural beings. He’d worked for the vampire council for centuries.”
The sheriff had called in the vampire he’d come to see. Marc Bouchard had hunted rogue vampires for the council and only recently given up the occupation. He needed to understand why his child of blood had made such a dramatic life change.
Although he traveled with a companion for a limited amount of time, he kept track of his children’s whereabouts and activities. Something or someone had steered some of his sons from their chosen paths.
Perhaps he’d leave the woman in Marc’s capable hands after he received his answers. His latest companion would arrive in Magic tomorrow night and they planned to travel to Santa Fe.
His ultra-sensitive hearing heard the front door to the sheriff’s office open. He knew from the scent two supernatural beings had entered. No longer surrounded by the woman’s blood, his keen sense of smell returned. It disturbed him he couldn’t pinpoint what type of creatures had arrived.
“We’re in the back,” the sheriff shouted.
To his surprise, Marc Bouchard entered, accompanied by a petite blonde with intense blue eyes. Like Marc, her tanned complexion brought out the color of her eyes.
His former fledgling son shouldn’t have any pigment to his complexion. Marc no longer carried the scent of a vampire.
After an initial gasp, Marc exclaimed, “Good God!”
Marc gazed at him in amazement. Anyone who knew him before the French Revolution believed he’d met the sun, ending his existence.
The sheriff frowned. “What’s wrong? Do you know him?”
“I’ll be damned,” a stunned Marc responded. “He’s Francois Laurent, my sire.”
Francois stared at his former fledgling for a moment before embracing him, not believing what he saw. Something had transformed his son. He’d abandoned Marc when he found a new companion. At the beginning of each relationship, he warned his newborn son they would only travel together for a century.
He ran his hand over Marc’s cheek. “How can you be warm blooded and your skin kissed by the sun?”
A slight frown met his question. “The spell,” Marc replied. “It has already transformed three of us into day walkers.”
The blonde grabbed Marc’s arm, pulling him from his embrace. She carried his former companion’s odd scent. Whatever they were, Francois hadn’t come across one of their kind in his long existence.
Marc’s dark brown hair had been lightened by the sun. He once again resembled the man he’d followed for days, waiting for him to meet his mortal fate on the battlefield. Moments before he succumbed to death, Francois had made him an offer. The son of a peasant who would never meet his potential as a human, accepted his offer of immortality.
“Not only is your former master alive, so to speak,” the little blonde said. “He doesn’t have a clue regarding what you’re talking about.”
Whatever manner of creature she was, the female possessed great power. She reeked of it.
Marc’s glance volleyed between Francois and the blonde. The ties that bound him and Marc together should’ve been stronger than those he shared with the female, but they weren’t. No bonds should be greater than those between a sire and a fledgling. His mind couldn’t make sense of what occurred before him.
“You had a witch cast a spell that when we met our soul mates and exchanged blood, we’d transform as a couple.” Marc rubbed his forehead, seemingly as confused as he felt. “Jacques and Darrason have already become day walkers with their mates. Annie and I were the first to change.”
Francois had difficulty wrapping his mind around what Marc shared. He’d never met a witch capable of casting a spell as powerful as the one his former fledgling described. If it weren’t for the evidence standing before him, he would have believed Marc had consumed bad blood.
Annie stared at him, frowning. “You’re nothing like I imagined you’d be. Not that I thought we’d ever meet. Marc said you ended your existence when Louis XVI lost his head. How old were you when you were changed into a vampire? You look like you should be in high school.”
He didn’t like talking about his mortal years, his homeland, or the vampire who changed his path. Decades after his conversion, he had ended up in France. It was there he finally found a home and adopted a new name and language.
“I’ve been a vampire since 399 BC. Why would it make any difference how many years I existed as a human?” The girl scowled at his tone. He hadn’t bothered to hide his annoyance. “What’s relevant, if you care to consider it, I didn’t have a witch cast a spell.”
“We need to take him to see Topper,” the girl blurted. He found her energy to be wearing on his nerves. He didn’t like how she dominated the conversation or made demands.
Annie took two steps toward the exit when Theo stopped her. “No one is going anywhere until we deal with her.”
The sheriff pointed to the woman still unconscious in the cell. Once Marc arrived, Francois’s attention had focused on him. However, he hadn’t forgotten her for a single moment. His body continued to warm at her proximity.
“Who is she?” Marc inquired.
“Another victim of the slasher,” Theo answered. “Thanks to your friend’s intervention, we may get a description of the bastard when she wakes. As far as I can determine from the last attack, we’re still dealing with a human.”
Marc shook his head. “I don’t believe a human can get away with three attacks in this town. We’re missing something.”
The sheriff slumped beside the unconscious woman. Noth
ing could be done until she woke. Francois didn’t care about the lunatic running wild in Magic. A whole different set of questions formed in his mind related to his new fledgling.
All eyes returned to the cot when the woman moaned. Her conversion into a vampire would soon be completed. He’d finally know the color of her eyes and why she had such a strange impact on him.
Chapter 2
Jennifer Flynn struggled to wake from the nightmare that had crippled her. Every muscle ached and horrifying images continued to plague her mind. What had she eaten last night that had created such vivid dreams? She’d never had hallucinations like the one she still fought to be released from.
Reality had a certain feel to it. Regardless of how real the attack she suffered had been, her mind rebelled at believing someone took a knife to her throat. She realized she lay on a hard bed, not the cold concrete of the alley she’d been stupid enough to enter.
A hollowness existed within her. She yearned for something, but couldn’t figure out what. The gnawing grew to the point of extreme discomfort.
Voices cut through the dense fog in her mind. She didn’t recognize any of them. Where was her daughter?
Her eyelids felt heavy as she attempted to open them. Blurry images came into view, but she couldn’t focus. She wasn’t in her hotel room, that much she’d been able to ascertain. Jennifer cried out in frustration.
“It’s all right. You’re safe,” a deep, soothing voice informed her.
There had been such a commanding authority to his tone, she believed him. Some of the tension in her body lessened. She still felt as if she’d been a victim of a hit and run accident. Every fiber in her being hurt.