Title: Thicker Than Blood
Genre: Historical Paranormal Romance
Rating: PG-13 at the moment.
Authors' Note: This is just the first two chapters of my story.
I am in dire need of critique for this story; I'll love you forever if you do.
Harsh is okay too, whatever gets your point across.
Genre: Historical Paranormal Romance
Rating: PG-13 at the moment.
Authors' Note: This is just the first two chapters of my story.
I am in dire need of critique for this story; I'll love you forever if you do.
Harsh is okay too, whatever gets your point across.
Prologue
Paris, France - August 7th, 1842;
Lucien Gautier was sitting in his study holding a glass of brandy. He still had his day clothes on. He wore his white cotton shirt and his dark waistcoat his riding coat was over the back of his chair, he also wore the black trousers, white breeches, and his riding boots.
It was casual day attire but he wore it during his nights, since he spent his days sleeping in a darkened room. He swirled the brandy that was in his glass around, watching it through the thick crystal. He swallowed the rest and smoothed down his goatee as he stared at the fire that was blazing in the fireplace.
His hair was black and long, secured in the back with a leather tie letting a few smaller strands that didn't make it in the tie fall into his face to cover his eyes. His deep, blue eyes were transfixed on the red-orange movement of the fire. His frame was tall and thin, he towered over many a man and was thinner than most.
He was jostled out of his thoughts when a quiet knock sounded on the thick door, "Monsieur Gautier?" Genevieve, the house maid asked through the door.
"Enter," Lucien answered to her call.
He grabbed the bottle of brandy off the floor and poured more into his small glass as she came in. Genevieve was a small girl of about four and twenty; a girl from Lyon, France with dull blond hair that was always bound to her head with pins and pale blue eyes that he'd rarely seen hilarity in, she had thin lips that were never painted and that never smiled. She always wore dark gray dresses that bound her tightly inside, it made her stand straight, almost painfully straight. "Monsieur, the cook wonders if you are to eat tonight?"
"Yes, I would like lamb tonight, rare," He told her absently as he gulped down his glass of alcohol. He needed to dull his senses; his hunger was becoming too much and he had no time to go find someone to sate it for him.
"Of course, Monsieur Gautier," Genevieve curtsied before rushing out of the study and closing the door behind her quickly in a rustle of skirts and petticoats.
The household staff feared him but dared not to leave; he controlled their pay and also didn't want a scandal to darken their own names. They thought he didn't hear the whispers within the house, of why he slept during the day. They believed he secretly kept a mistress that crept in at night while they all slept and wore him out so he had to stay abed all day. Others believed him a witch. Then a few questioned him as a vampire.
The ones who thought the latter didn't know how right they were. He was a vampire, he'd been one for the past two years.
He'd been turned by a man who he didn't know and didn't see after his transition. It happened when he went on a stroll late one night to clear his head; he'd been grabbed a block away from his estate and bitten by a man. Though Lucien fought the man, who was thinner than him, the mysterious man seemed to have the strength of ten men as he easily took each of Lucien's blows.
Lucien was afraid when the man bit him, he felt his blood leaving his body with every suck of the other man's mouth. He felt his knees giving way and his body going cold and limp. The man pulled away just as Lucien was on the brink of death. The man looked at him with curious eyes, "Do you wish to live? Be young and beautiful for all of eternity; to never age a day or get a wrinkle."
Lucien meant to shake his head but he had no strength. He didn't mean to surrender to the weight of the vampire he wanted to push away from him. The man took that as a yes and removed a hand from Lucien as he sliced a cut over his carotid artery and moved Lucien's face to the wound that was oozing blood.
Lucien tried to fight in his weakened state and got out a small 'no' but the vampire didn't listen and forced his mouth onto the wound, "Drink and live again."
He succumbed to the vampire's will and drank in his blood, gagging at the weird taste, choking on it.
When the vampire forced him away and told him, "Go home and sleep. When you wake you will be one of us."
Lucien had walked out of the alleyway and to his estate in a daze; he didn't have to think of doing it. His body seemed to do it on its own as if he was possessed.
Once to his home he entered it and walked up to his room, closing and locking the door before pulling the Samite curtains, which were a heavy black silk that was interwoven with gold.
He undressed before spilling himself onto his bed and falling to sleep, only to dream of blood and death...
Lucien had woken up confused and disoriented. He was in pain. His muscles ached but he had no reason for it, he sat up and looked around his dark room. He could see everything, the paper that covered the walls and the wood that covered the floor clearly, even though it was dark.
He sat there examining the room with his new sight and listening to the house with his new hearing.
He heard a knock on the door which pulled Lucien out of his memories and he looked at the door again, "I have brought you your supper, Monsieur Gautier."
"Enter," Lucien told her in a slightly cold voice. It was the second time that night he had been interrupted from his thoughts and it wasn't even eight.
Genevieve came in carrying a tray that held a slice of lamb, potatoes, and a glass of dark red wine from the Langmeil Vineyard. That wine had prospered in Australia the year he was made into the beast he was.
Genevieve set the tray down on his desk and kept her eyes adverted to the floor. Her blood roared in his extra-sensitive ears, he could smell it as if it were in the glass of brandy he'd just taken a drink from.
He knew he wouldn't be able to hold out any longer. He had to have what she could provide him.
"Is there anything else you will need, Monsieur?" She asked quietly, not even looking at him while she spoke.
"Yes, I will be needing something. Come forward Genevieve," Lucien purred to her.
Genevieve shuffled her feet slowly as she went towards Lucien. It was obvious that she was afraid of what was going to happen. It was all over her mind. She was afraid that he'd seduce her; that he'd force her into a sexual act.
"Be calm," he told her in an almost demanding tone. "I will not harm you."
She stood in front of his chair, her blue eyes on his feet and her heart beating quickly of fear. Lucien stood up and stood over her, towering about a foot over her.
"The walls have ears, Genevieve," he murmured to her, setting his hands on her shoulder and pulling her closer so his mouth was by her ear. "They hear what you and the other maids speculate about me. They hear and they tell me." As he talked his lips brushed her ear on a couple of occasions. He heard her heart pounding faster, "Although, I want to hear from you what you believe me to be."
"Monsieur... I must go," She breathed; she couldn't make it sound forceful even if she wanted to.
"No you do not, Genevieve. Now I wish to have an answer. What is it you think I am?" He asked forcefully, squeezing her arms.
"I... I... I believe you to be a witch; a witch of dark magic," She whispered, trying to pull away.
He smirked, "Why do you think such things?"
"Why else would you leave at sunset and return at sunrise? You also sleep during the daylight hours. They have said they see you with your cauldron and with your sacrifices!"
"Who fills your head with such lies?"
Lucien's mouth went to her jawline, causing Genevieve's breathing to pick up, "I . . . I must go, Monsieur. Please, release me.
"Answer me, Genevieve," he growled.
"Violette. She tells me she sees you at night, behind the stables. She tells all of us you are the one taking the horses so you can slaughter them and use their blood to perform your witchcraft."
Lucien's mouth twitched upwards involuntarily at the nonsense the maid was saying. His lips went to her neck, brushing them around until he felt her strong pluse beneath his lips. "They are wrong, Genevieve, and you shouldn't have believed in such nonsense."
Lucien's fangs grew and he bit into her neck. Her body jerked against his and she groaned, clutching his shirt and pulling it in pain. He drank from her, taking in the taste of the blood that was solely hers.
When he pulled away, he licked her neck to close the wound before rubbing the back of his hand against his mouth. She was holding onto his shirt lightly and had surrendered her weight to him. "When you awake tomorrow you wont remember what happened this night." He ordered.
Genevieve pulled away from him and left the room quietly, closing the door behind her. Lucien stood there, a sigh coming from him as he turned and went to the window which was still covered by the Samite curtains he drew over them every dawn, and pulled them open before opening the glass balcony doors.
He stepped into the cool night air before going over to the rail and looking out into Paris. This was his home. This is where he would stay until the end of time. He sighed contently at the breeze blowing his hair out of his face; the quiet filled his ears.
• • •
Chapter One
London, England - June 23rd, 1888;
"Sir, would you like me to summon your valet to ready the carriage and hackney for you?" William asked as he walked briskly to keep up with Lucien's long strides.
"No, I feel like walking this night," He replied to the older man as he took the steps of the staircase two at a time until he came to the main landing just outside of the small foyer.
"Sir!" called William as he tried to hurry down the stairs; his old, bony hand gripping the railing as he went as fast as he could. "What would you like for supper?"
Lucien ignored the butler as he hurried out of his own home, trying to get away from the servants that plagued him with to many questions.
Exiting his home, he rushed down the cobble stone walkway that lead out of the streets of urban London. The street was dark, the glow of the oil lamps - that had been lite only about two hours before - did little to light the way for anyone unsure of the path. He hurried his pace, getting farther and farther by the minute, wanting to get into a more populated portion of London for his deed tonight.
It was time for him to 'eat'. Lucien hated this part of his life; he hated it even more than the loss of sun and loneliness. He resented the fact that he had to use trickery with whores and innocents just to quench his thirst and keep from going on a killing spree, he hated the anonymity of the sex he occasionally had. He despised that he couldn't get rid of his curse and was trying to take it in stride, he tried to accept the fact that there was no way of returning to his former self. Taking it in stride hardly worked though.
As he walked, carriages and people began to pass him more frequently. He welcomed the clop, clop, clop of horses hooves, he accepted the murmuring voices of passersby; he almost enjoyed all the noise.
His thoughts came to a halt as he approached a street that was commonly used for whoring. It wasn't as deserted as he would have hoped; there were several people walking up and down the street and even more woman loitering. He smirked to himself as he saw a woman that caught his attention and continued to walk; pretending to ignore her as he started to walk by.
The woman; upon noticing him, perked up and began to approach. "'Ello," she said in a seductive voice as she drew closer. "Ya look like a man thats needin' himself a woman."
Lucien stopped in his tracks and turned his head slightly, letting her catch his eye, "How did you observe that?" he asked, not even having to attempt to charm her.
At the sound of his voice, even more so his accent, the woman's eyes brightened, "I know what a man needs and what he looks like when he is needin'."
He weighed her offer and then asked, "The cost, Madam?" As he looked her over, taking in the sight of her. The whore was a little thing with dull brown hair that was knotted and lifeless brown eyes that held virtually no emotion. She wore a tattered green dress without the bulk of petticoats and the restraint of a corset. He almost felt bad for the lifestyle of this woman but knew there was nothing he could really do but take advantage as every other man that passed her did.
"Five pence," she told him, as if pleading her case.
Lucien gave her a brief smile and accepted her offer, she hastily — as if to keep him from changing his mind— grabbed his hand and lead him towards the alleyway. He followed her almost obediently as she lead him farther and farther into the alley until they were out of view of the street.
He leaned into her slowly, his deep blue eyes holding her stare until his lips pressed to hers and she grabbed onto the lapels of his frock, pulling him closer to her. As Lucien deepened the kiss the whore's tiny hands began to travel lower to the front of his trousers. Breaking the kiss, he kissed down her chin and to her neck, sucking and kissing at it sensually as he felt the frantic beat of her heart beneath his lips. Lucien's fangs elongated right before he struck, his fangs singing deeply into the artery in of neck.
The whore gasped and stopped playing with the front of his trousers; her hands immediately went to his waist and began to grip, her dirty nails digging into him. Lucien sucked at her neck gently until he felt the whore getting weak in his arms causing him to pull back, his fangs leaving her throat and receded slowly back into his gums. He licked the wound at her neck and watched it heal slowly, leaving only a minute amount of his feeding on her.
Lucien released her and looked at her dazed expression, pulling out triple the amount she originally asked for and tucking it into her hand, "You will return to wherever it is you retreat to and you will sleep deeply. When you wake you will not remember me or any of this nights events, only that you received this coin from your usual work." Lucien told her in a stern voice, as if he was chastising a child. "Do you understand?"
"Yes, Suh," she murmured, her eyes half closed.
"Now go," he ordered as she pulled away and started to walk down the alleyway. He stood there watching her until she turned out of the alley leaving him in the darkness all alone again. He finally let out the first deep breath he had since he had arrived in London, relieved that the gnawing ache had finally left his body.
With his body refreshingly nourished he headed back to his home, almost looking forward to what the cook had prepared for supper.
