Page 7 of Cursed Lifeline

As I empty his soul, I swear my eyes lock with Esmerelda's for a brief moment as she glances over her shoulder. She trembles, not in fear, in knowing, and quickly looks away.

The mortal's thoughts and intentions towards her rush through my mind as I drain the last of his life from his spineless body. Though he deserves slow and painful, my frenzied thirst for her vengeance won't let me inflict the torture he deserves. A merciless rage fills me, and I bleed him faster, quicker, sucking down every last dishonorable drop.

As the last bit of his pathetic life drains from my grasp, I quickly discard him on the floor with an insignificant shove. Wiping his filth from my mouth on the sleeve of my black jacket, I run my fingers through my disheveled hair and try my best to clear my mind. To focus. To remember why we're here.

My brothers move quickly, disbanding the hedge of protection they offered while I took the deplorable mortals' last breath. As I step over the man's lifeless form, they internally discuss what to do with the body. After a moment, Talon's shadows emerge from the dark corners, drawing the cold form back from view.

As I emerge from the shadows, Esmerelda looks my way. Spooked, her gaze drifts off as quickly as I capture it, leaving me feeling empty inside. Talon's words from earlier resurface when I least want them to.

Treats and Tricks. When you realize they're sour, it's too late.

Esmerelda and Alfred drift further into the crowd. Anxious, my senses desperately search her out. When I'm sure my brothers have the situation behind me handled, I purposely stalk off toward where she disappeared. The foreshadowing thoughts of Talon's cautionary display from earlier prickle my skin as I hunt for her.

A girl.

A boy.

A chase.

Why I'm drawn to her is disconcerting. As I try to make sense of it, I realize the forbidden fruit dangling in front of me like an entrancing delicacy isn't the fact that she's Lord Martin's daughter. No. It's something deeper than that. More compulsory. More irrevocable. More sinister.

Talon's foreshadowing beckons closer, threatening to overtake my thoughts once again. My only hope is to figure out what's drawing me to her before it's too late.

Before either of us meet a dire end.

A sudden death we can't escape.

Three

Esme

Song: Toxic | 2WEI

"He won't give you a choice,"Alfred says as my eyes survey the lavish masquerade party in the ballroom. A party my father held portentously in my honor for my eighteenth birthday. "The money is gone. He's taken lines of credit. Advances. Loans he will never be able to pay back. We both know he sees Lord Laurent as his only savior."

"But Lord Laurent will never bemysavior," I roll my eyes and grumble under my breath.

My gaze catches the Lord in question. I fail miserably at hiding my grimace as his beady gaze holds mine. He licks his old, wrinkled lips, and a smile pulls at the sides of the white, unkempt whiskers adorning his foul mouth. Squatty and plump, the ancient, hideous man of French nobility moves closer like a python, worming its hair-raising way towards its unsuspecting catch, eager to strangle and smother it. Bile rises in my throat as my eyes land on leathered, saggy skin, defined jowls, and a wattle under his chin covered in a revolting scattering of moles that remind me of the caruncles under a turkey's neck.

"There has to be another way," I frown. "Why can't Father marry you off? You're older than me. If he found you a nice Countess, a Lady in Waiting, maybe..."

My brother's contemptuous chuckle stops my rambling. "And disgrace the family further with the knowledge of his affair? It's too risky. Marriage might uncover the fact that commoner blood runs through my veins. Father would sell his soul to the devil before ever agreeing to that."

He's right, though the tempting thought of my brother's arranged nuptials is much more appealing than mine.

The old man approaching licks his lips hungrily as his thirsty gaze flutters across my mature form. Repulsed, I avert my stare just as a migraine pierces between my eyes and a tingling sensation flutters across my skin. Sensing I'm being watched, my eyes dance about the ballroom, searching for the mysterious stalker. When they come up empty, I shake the feeling off and release a heavy sigh. Raising my glass of champagne to my lips, I savor the bubbles when they tickle my nose, then prickle deliciously as they run down the back of my throat, and warm my nervous belly. With any luck, the drink will numb the headache brewing since Alfred found me earlier in the foyer.

"It was worth the thought," I mumble into the crystal flute.

"Might I suggest thinking about things that may actually work in your favor,petit."

I release a heavy sigh. Another roll of my eyes. I hate it when my brother calls mepetit-little one. Especially since there is not much of an age gap between us.

After a moment, Alfred stands a little taller as his eyes land on a pretty brunette across the dance floor. With a mischievous smile he adds, "Besides, why would I consider marriage when being the bastard son of Lord Martin has allotted me many favorable liberties over the years? For one, a hefty allowance for my silence. For two, an endless variety of women who are more than willing to help me spend it. Their cost is my pleasure gained."

"A hefty allowance that he hasn't afforded to pay you in the last year."

He shrugs, "I've found other ways to provide for my needs."

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