A chill went down my spine to hear him basically admit that he’d left some victims in his wake, Bram Stoker–style. I couldn’t say it came as a huge shock, but hearing it stated so bluntly made my stomach churn. I wondered if satisfying his thirsts, as opposed to abstaining as he did in the future, helped his blood addiction or made it worse.
Thierry slid his index finger around the rim of the glass, though he didn’t take his gaze from the man’s. “I’ve traveled a great distance to meet with you, David. Let’s get on with it, so I can begin my lengthy journey back.”
“For one blessed with immortality and the gift of time, you’re always in such a rush.” David shook his head. “Can’t you at least pretend to enjoy yourself?”
“No,” Thierry said, his gaze tracking through the room for a third time. “I can’t.”
“Where is your beautiful wife, Veronique?”
That drew Thierry’s attention back to David. “Not here.”
“Stunning woman. How can you ever bear to let her out of your sight?”
“It’s not nearly as much of a hardship as you might imagine.”
“Yes, but to leave such a woman on her own—”
“Trust me, Veronique is rarely alone. But I did not come here to discuss my wife, David. I came here for one reason and one alone. Where is it?”
My ears perked up at that like matching exclamation points. Was he talking about the mysterious amulet?
David took a sip of his drink. “If I said I couldn’t get it, would you be disappointed in me?”
“My disappointment would be the least of your worries.” Thierry’s tone turned glacial. His distaste for this man was palpable. I couldn’t really blame him. There was something about David that rubbed me the wrong way. Something in his gaze, something slick and serpentine.
“You are quite the renowned collector.” David leaned back in his chair and took a swig of his own glass of ale. “You must have amassed a fascinating collection after all these years.”
“I have.”
“Obtaining this particular object would be quite an accomplishment. Do you know how many also look for it?”
“I’m certain there are many. Which is why I required your particular skills to locate it and was willing to go to great extremes to cross an ocean at your request for this exchange. So let me see it.”
“I couldn’t get a message to you on the ship, but . . . well . . .” The man giggled. Giggled. “There’s a problem, I’m afraid.”
I realized now what it was about him that was slightly off, other than a creepiness that seemed to permeate his very skin. The man was inebriated. So much for public drunkenness in a highly religious village. Naughty Pilgrim.
Thierry did not giggle in response, of course. His eyes glittered dangerously. “If you’re as smart as I thought you were, you won’t waste my time with these foolish games.”
David glanced around as if to check if they were being watched. But no one was close enough to see or hear their exchange.
Well, except for me—the ghostly eavesdropper from the future. I waited with bated breath. It took a great deal of effort to keep my gaze on David and not on Thierry. I could barely look away from him.
At first glance out on the road, I’d assumed Thierry would be exactly the same as he is in the future—only with a bit of a fashion makeover. But there was something about this Thierry that felt darker to me. Colder. This Thierry was a man who looked at everyone as a potential enemy or saboteur. A man who was married to a beautiful woman but didn’t give a damn if she remained faithful to him in his absence. A man who fed his dark addictions whenever the urge struck, one who didn’t feel any remorse.
He hadn’t wanted me to see his past. I’d thought it was due to some moment, some specific act that he now regretted. But perhaps he simply hadn’t wanted me to see who he was as a whole.
Perhaps he felt no remorse for the lives he’d taken due to his overwhelming bloodlust, but still—there was the edge of something in his familiar gray eyes, something lost and pained, that told me that the real Thierry was in there, too.
“I wish I was really here,” I said, even though I knew he couldn’t hear me. “I’d tell you everything would be better one day.”
David finally pulled something from the leather satchel by his feet. It was wrapped in cloth. He unwrapped it, holding it out to Thierry. I drew closer to see that it was a timepiece, a gold pocket watch. However, it didn’t have hands to tell the time, only numbers.
“This is not the amulet,” Thierry said, unimpressed.
“No, it isn’t.”
“Where is the amulet?”
David’s expression finally shadowed, the drunken pleasantness disappearing and an edge of fear entering his gaze. “I’m told it was destroyed five years ago.”
Anger sparked in Thierry’s gaze, and he stood up, his chair scraping against the floor like fingernails on a chalkboard. “Then meeting you here is a waste of my time. I won’t pay you for something I don’t want, if that’s what you’re thinking.”
“Sit, Thierry,” David hissed, glancing nervously around. “Just sit down and let me explain. Do not draw attention to yourself. Not here, not now.”
I was certain he was going to storm out of the tavern, but instead Thierry sat back down and faced David. “Then explain.”
“I know you want the amulet.”
“The amulet has been destroyed. You’re not the first to tell me this, but I haven’t wanted to believe it’s true. Perhaps it is.”
“But that’s why I have this for you.” He held out the gold watch again.
A little of the impatience faded from Thierry’s eyes, replaced by a fraction of curiosity. “What is it?”
“A timewalker.”
Thierry’s eyebrows shot up. “I thought they were only legend.”
“Not true. While exceedingly rare, they do exist.”
“How do I know this is real?”
David’s lips stretched into a smile. “Because I know if I try to fool you, my life may be significantly shortened. Remember, your reputation does precede you, Thierry. This is legitimate. I guarantee it. You can use this to go back to when this precious amulet still existed and snatch it away from any other interested party. Not simple, but certainly effective, yes?”
Thierry was silent, studying the timepiece with more interest now. “How does it work?”
“Be careful, since it is very delicate. You wind it up like this, setting the numbers to the date you wish to travel. This way to go forward. This way to go back.” He demonstrated with the winding stem. The wheels and cogs in the watch moved and shimmered in a way that made it clear that this was no normal watch. “It can also be triggered remotely by magic.”
“What difficulties are associated with using such a device?”
David nodded, as if expecting the question. “For a human, it would kill them. The use of a timewalker is out of the question for their delicate bodies. For a vampire . . .” He gave Thierry a guarded look. “Well, I won’t lie to you. There is still great risk involved. I would advise you to write yourself a detailed letter and put it somewhere upon your person. Your mind will be affected; there’s no way around it. Timewalking can cause problems if one does not take precautions.”
Thierry’s gaze snapped to the man’s face. “How will my mind be affected?”
“Memory gaps, mostly. For the hours leading up to the usage as well as several hours after you arrive at your destination.”
I’d watched their conversation with my mouth hanging open, not believing my own ears.
A timewalker. Thierry was about to purchase a timewalker from this strange man, in order to retrieve the amulet that might have been destroyed five years prior.
And I’d traveled into the past to learn this.
Did that qualify for irony?
“Carefully consider your options before using this,” David said, before hesitating. “Your collection doesn’t need this amulet in it. No one’s
does.”
Thierry’s jaw tightened. “Let me be the judge of that.”
“Your obsession with dangerous pieces of power will be your undoing, de Bennicoeur. Be very careful.”
“I appreciate your concern.” Thierry reached into the inner pocket of his black coat, then tossed David a small silk drawstring bag. “Even though this isn’t what we agreed upon, neither is this what you promised me. This is the payment I will offer you for the timewalker. And your silence.”
David undid the ties and glanced inside the bag, nodding. “It’s acceptable.”
“Is our business complete here?”
“It is.” David handed the timepiece to Thierry, who then tucked it inside his jacket. “It’s an interesting time to be here, Thierry. You should stay for a while and observe. Such fear these humans have, so wrapped up in their religion, with their God, that they think any shadow, any problem, any illness, can be blamed on the devil. Wouldn’t it all be so much easier if that were the truth?”
“I’ve heard what’s been happening here with the trials. It’s distasteful.”
“A little blood and death shouldn’t bother you. In fact, I’m surprised you’re not as fascinated by it all as I am. You’ve witnessed many atrocities before. Sometimes you’ve even stepped in to lend a hand—although the side you fight for seems to change with the seasons. Are you a friend or a foe this month to those who are weak and needy?” He said it with a sneer, half insult, half observation.
Thierry didn’t seem to care. He sent a gaze toward the front door when a few men entered and gathered around a table near the fire. “If I help anyone, it would be my own kind. Witches wouldn’t be my concern even if I was feeling particularly generous.”
David nodded. “Understandable. Didn’t that one witch hold you for some time, bleeding you for her own power? Nearly killed you, I’d heard.”
“She sought to increase her magic through the blood of a master vampire. Some witches do.”
“But she didn’t achieve it. You killed her, didn’t you? But you killed her husband first, while she watched, as punishment.”
My gaze shot to Thierry’s face to find it had turned to stone. Totally unreadable, even to me.
Thierry’s lips thinned. “Another rumor?”
“Perhaps. Is it true?”
“She made her choice. It was the wrong one.”
“Yes, don’t worry. I know not to upset you. I prefer to blend in and appear as harmless as possible.”
“And yet, you’re far from it. You’re one of the most powerful wizards in any of the American colonies.”
“And then some.” There was a sinister note to David’s smile.
“Then I don’t understand. Why would you allow your kind to be tortured and murdered by those who fear their abilities? Not to mention those humans only accused of witchcraft who hold no magic at all.”
David spread his hands. “It’s none of my business.”
Thierry studied him. “I would almost say that you’re enjoying this. As if it’s entertaining to you.”
“Entertaining seeing witches and innocent humans murdered?” David looked appalled for a moment before humor lit his eyes again. “Perhaps a little. But you do know that witches’ blood is almost as potent as vampire blood when it comes to black magic. Without a steady supply, I might not be able to find trinkets to please my wealthier clients such as yourself.”
Thierry’s expression soured further. “You’re helping them, aren’t you? The witch hunters.”
David laughed at this and then drained the rest of his drink. “These witches, these humans, they’re weak, Thierry. The weak must be destroyed so the strong can flourish.”
“And you’ve made some sort of deal in which you have access to these accused witches, either before or after their deaths, so you can take their blood.”
Something unpleasant flickered through David’s eyes. “Don’t you dare judge me, de Bennicoeur. Not you of all people. You’ve profited from the pain and misery of others for centuries. I don’t care if you deny it; your insatiable thirst has become legendary.”
Finally, a dark smile touched Thierry’s lips, one that chilled me. “I assure you, I have total control over my thirst. But blood is essential to the existence of any vampire.”
“Of course you’re right.” David’s words were now guarded, as if he’d suddenly realized he’d been doing business with a supernatural creature with sharp fangs and malevolent intentions. “I know you don’t wish to delay your journey back to England. Our business is done here. Farewell, Thierry.”
He put on his hat and strode out of the tavern without another word.
Thierry sat there for another moment in silence, his eyes straight forward, his shoulders rigid, his brows drawn together in a deep frown.
Then he pushed up from the table and began to follow David.
He moved so fast that I had to jog to keep up to him. “Don’t do anything crazy, scary Thierry from the past. It’s not worth it.”
His gaze was razor sharp as he scanned the street searching for the man who’d just left his company. David strolled down the road in no hurry, nodding and smiling at those he passed.
Thierry stayed twenty feet back but continued to trail after him.
“He’s a jerk,” I said. “A complete and utter bastard. But don’t do anything you’re going to regret. You said yourself that guy’s a wizard. You don’t want to mess with that.”
Thierry swiftly stalked after David until the man turned a corner near a river that looked like a shimmering ribbon of darkness under the evening sky.
“David,” he said.
David’s shoulders froze and he turned. His eyes had shifted to that familiar witchy red and I felt the crackle of energy charge the air.
Uh-oh.
“You mean to bite me, de Bennicoeur? To drain my blood?”
“No, of course not. I’d never bite you,” Thierry said, offering a smile. “I regret how we left things in the tavern and I wanted to tell you that before we part ways.”
David’s tension eased a fraction. “Well, that is good to hear. I know many might hold my recent decisions against me, but I’ve always known we were two of a kind—survivors in this harsh, unforgiving world.”
“Two of a kind indeed.” Thierry drew closer. “I have been pondering the deal you’ve made with the local hunters to acquire the blood of dead witches . . .”
“Oh? What about it?”
Thierry reached forward, his movement nearly too fast to see. He grabbed David’s head between his hands and twisted sharply. I heard a crack and David crumpled to the ground.
Thierry looked down at the wizard’s dead body. “I don’t approve.”
Chapter 12
Iclamped my hand over my mouth to hold back my scream.
Thierry turned his face away from the body with a hiss. His eyes had turned black with hunger. David had hit his head on a sharp rock when he fell to the ground. Blood now trickled down his temple.
“Don’t even think about it, Thierry.” My shock at witnessing the murder had swiftly turned to fear.
Dead blood, even freshly dead blood, was like poison to a vampire. It was like some sort of magical trap for a vampire, since the blood of a dead person was still red, still fresh, still tempting.
But potentially deadly.
He turned away, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. He began to move away from David’s body with long, determined strides.
I kept pace. “Good. I approve. Well, not of the cold-blooded murder, but still. Good for you for walking away from temptation.”
His lips drew back from his straight white teeth until I saw the sharp tips of his fangs. He scanned the road near the tavern, near the meeting hall. Finally his predatory, black-eyed gaze fell upon a woman in an indigo blue dress. She was walking unchaperoned after leaving the company of her friends.
Thierry began to trail after her.
I picked up speed. “Oh, no, you don’t. Don?
??t even think about it!”
Of course, he couldn’t hear me.
He was in the middle of a sudden and overwhelming wave of bloodlust—the same kind of bloodlust Owen now had to deal with and that present-day ghost Thierry was free from. This wasn’t present-day Thierry. This was scary-vampire Thierry and he needed to feed. And this unlucky young woman, whoever she was, was going to be playing the part of victim number two in this evening’s program.
I grabbed for Thierry’s arm, but my hands slipped right through him and turned to smoke for a horrifying moment. I swore under my breath. I didn’t care if I was no better than a ghost at the moment; I couldn’t let this happen.
It was one thing to hear about the horrible things Thierry had been responsible for, the murders aboard the ship that brought him here. But for me to witness him kill a helpless girl with my own eyes . . .
I honestly didn’t think I’d be able to look at him the same way again.
He hadn’t wanted me to see any of this. I now realized he did that to protect me—to protect how I cared about him. And yes, admittedly, perhaps I had put him on a bit of a golden pedestal in my mind—which he was currently attempting to knock himself off of.
But I was here; there was no turning back. And there had to be a way for me to stop this from happening.
I scanned the street looking for inspiration until my gaze fell on another woman. Dark hair, dark eyes. She read a Bible while seated on a lantern-lit bench in front of the church.
Without thinking, I moved directly toward her.
I might not be dead, but I was currently doing an excellent impression of a wandering spirit. That gave me only one option I could think of to use.
“Here goes nothing,” I said under my breath. As the woman got up, tucked her Bible under her arm, and moved forward, I remained standing right in her path, bracing myself with my hands on my thighs like a sumo wrestler. Instead of her walking through me, I walked into her. Headfirst.
She shivered as we met, as if she’d just strolled into a freezer.
And then, suddenly, I was looking out of her eyes.
“Awesome,” I said now in the voice of someone else. I could already feel a pressure building. Sort of like in an airplane when it’s descending. If my ears popped, so would everything else. I’d pop right out of this body like a half-cooked Eggo.