Xuan’s mouth tightened briefly as he read, then he looked up and met Vincent’s gaze, his own eyes bright with tears.
What the hell was that about?
Xuan handed the note to Lana. She resisted the urge to grab it, taking it slowly from his hand, then turning so that Vincent could read with her.
It was one line, written in the same script as Xuan’s name on the envelope. And it said . . .
It’s time to tell the story.
Chapter Twenty
Texas, 1876
XUAN IGNACIO STOOD in the darkness, shielding his eyes against the bright flames of the campfire. It was a big fire, much bigger than the two young men needed. Surrounded by the pitch black of a desert night, it probably made them feel safe. Unfortunately, it did the opposite.
“The fools might as well paint targets on their backs,” Enrique commented disdainfully. But then, Enrique didn’t understand that the fire brought the young humans comfort as well as light. Enrique had embraced his new vampire existence without a backward look, shedding his humanity like an unwanted shirt.
“We could take them now,” Xuan said. “They don’t need to go through the rest of it.” He wasn’t happy with Enrique’s plan, he never had been. But Enrique was powerful, a vampire destined to lead others while Xuan . . . Xuan mostly wanted to be left alone. But Enrique wouldn’t let him. He’d grown weary of wandering the countryside and terrorizing peasants. He wanted to carve out a territory of his own and settle down. He needed soldiers to do that, so he’d set the two of them on a campaign to create loyal followers. It was simple, really. They’d located a pack of thieves and murderers and then followed them around, “saving” their victims from certain death.
But not until they were on the very precipice of that death first.
The first angry shouts broke the deceptive serenity of the night as the outlaws attacked the two young men, firing wildly, their shots missing more than they hit. The two travelers reached for their own weapons, but far too slowly. They’d been foolish, naïve, to think that there were no dangers in the darkness. Foolish not to recognize that their fine horses and gear would attract the worst of those who roamed the desert looking to rob the unwary.
The taller human reached his revolver first and managed to get off a few good shots, killing one of the thieves and mildly wounding another. But it wasn’t nearly enough. It was only minutes before both young men were on the ground, mortally wounded, their lives bleeding into the dirt. The thieves kicked their limp bodies aside and took what they wanted. They didn’t bother to kill the young men, assuming the desert would do that for them. And they certainly had no interest in easing their suffering.
Xuan glanced over and caught the gleam of Enrique’s grin in the moonlight, his fangs fully distended as he watched the mayhem.
“I’ll take the farther one,” Enrique told him. “The other’s yours.”
Xuan concealed his surprise. Enrique rarely asked Xuan to sire any of the new vampires. He wanted their loyalty to be uncompromising and only to him. But Xuan didn’t argue. He never argued. He didn’t have the strength to refuse Enrique whatever he wanted. It had always been that way, even though Xuan was much older than Enrique. They were children of the same Sire, a vampire who had no interest in building an empire or even a small kingdom. There was no rhyme or reason to the humans he chose, and he didn’t care what happened once they were turned. When Enrique had come across Xuan Ignacio in his wanderings, he’d latched on, telling Xuan they had a better chance of surviving together than they did alone. The truth was that Enrique didn’t like to be alone. He’d always needed an audience, and now he’d decided he needed an army. Xuan had gone along, because that’s what he did.
Until now.
Xuan had decided he was almost done with Enrique’s plan. Enrique now had plenty of vampires to help build and defend his territory. He no longer needed Xuan. And Xuan had no stomach for the bloodshed that Enrique seemed to revel in.
Turning his attention back to their current hunt, Xuan followed Enrique to the campsite and knelt next to the half-dead human Enrique had chosen for him. The young man was mortally wounded. Xuan took some consolation in that. Without his intervention, the human would surely die this night.
He bent his head to the dying man’s neck and drank deeply. The human’s blood was thick and rich. He was, or had been, strong and healthy, his obvious wealth granting him a life of ease and good nutrition. And Xuan relished the taste of his blood, relished the knowledge that he could drink his fill. What vampire wouldn’t take pleasure in drinking so deeply? More often than not, he was forced to school himself to moderation, whether by Enrique’s dictate or simple survival. He and Enrique both usually took only what they needed to live, leaving their victims alive so as to avoid drawing attention to themselves.
But not anymore. Enrique meant to rule, and moderation was a thing of the past.
When the human was on the very edge of death, when his brown skin was pale and his heart beat so weakly that even a vampire’s enhanced hearing could barely hear it, Xuan sliced open his own wrist and held it above the young man’s mouth, letting the first drops slide onto the human’s tongue and down his throat. And then he waited.
He’d seen Enrique do this enough times. He knew it wouldn’t take long. It never did. And sure enough, the human suddenly swallowed, his tongue working at the unexpected sustenance of Xuan’s blood. A moment later, the man’s chest swelled with the first full breath he’d drawn since Xuan had started, and then a second breath as his heart gained strength, as it began pounding in his chest like a drum.
Wincing in anticipation, Xuan lowered his wrist to the man’s mouth, closing his eyes against the mingled pain and pleasure as the human closed his lips over Xuan’s ravaged wrist, as his still-blunt teeth tore into Xuan’s flesh, digging in to hold him in place as the human drank . . . and drank.
Xuan swayed in a sort of euphoria. He’d never felt this way before, almost as if his own power had been doubled by the taste of the human’s blood. He almost asked Enrique about it, but something made him remain silent. He’d never noticed Enrique reacting this way to the creation of a new vampire, and he didn’t know what it meant. Perhaps it was just him, a weakness that made him vulnerable. And it was always better not to reveal any frailty when Enrique was involved.
“It’s nearly dawn.”
Xuan’s eyes flashed open at the sound of Enrique’s harsh voice. He gently disengaged the human’s teeth from his wrist, brushing dark hair away from the young man’s forehead. He was handsome; both of the brothers were. But it was more than that. There was a hint in their features of the old race, the Mayans, descendants of the same empire that had birthed him and his forefathers as far back as he could count.
Xuan would have liked to keep this one for himself, to be his younger brother, the one he never had. But Enrique would never permit it. He swallowed a sigh and said, “Mine’s ready to travel.”
“Yours?” Enrique scoffed. “There is no yours. They’re both mine. Now, come on, help me get them into the cave.”
They carried the two new vampires into the cooler darkness of a nearby cave. It was the reason they’d chosen this particular location, that particular band of thieves. The exchange of blood was exhausting not only for the new vampires, but for the old as well.