Tears of Blood (The Blood Chronicles) Page 2

“Then, what are you seeking?”

  “I don’t want an autograph, Gerino.” Again, an oddly smug smile tugged at his mouth. “Your name, or any facsimile thereof, doesn’t appeal to me.”

  “Che cosa vuoi?” Amado’s heartbeat increased, and a coiling of dread spun viciously in his gut.

  “What I want is more precious.”

  “I do not understand.” Perplexed, Amado’s confusion showed on his expressive face. The man moved slightly back, his slender fingers tracing the stubborn line of his jaw.

  “You wound me, Gerino.” Declan’s disturbing eyes glittered. “I come bearing a gift, much as my namesake.”

  Amado stilled a wince. Balthazar was a name steeped in history, revered, and respected. Somehow, he sensed this man was supremely different from the benevolent wise man bringing gifts. In fact, his very manner stated he didn’t bring an offering he’d readily welcome.

  “I do not believe your offer is in my best interest.” He struggled to say with defiance.

  “Is that what you truly suppose?” An icy chuckle followed the inquiry.

  “I do not accept your…gift.”

  “Ah, Gerino, I wouldn’t be so quick to thrust my proposal aside,” the man soothed falsely before leaning in close. “Are you aware of what’s in store for you, my dear Hollywood hero?”

  The question struck Amado speechless.

  “Hollywood is a cruel mistress, my man.” Balthazar’s fingers brushed imaginary lint from the sleeve of his spotless jacket as he straightened. “Have you not listened to the whispers brewing with regard to your sinful town?”

  “I ‘ear rumors all the time.” He shrugged indifferently.

  “Do you believe I refer to that mess involving you and your wife?” The question made Balthazar laugh outright, the sound scathing as he ran the tip of a finger over his chin. “I’m not interested in tabloid rubbish.”

  “I…” Amado paused, his smooth brow furrowing. “Of what do you speak, signore?”

  “I’m speaking of facts involving your job, your very reputation, and your fame.”

  Against his better judgment, curiosity threatened to overwhelm Amado’s earlier anxiety.

  “What rumors?”

  “These wonderful new members of the film industry, called sound technicians, have plans. These plans are nothing more than plots, wicked endeavors to destroy those they despise.” The man retorted with superfluous ease. “There’s a carefully contrived scheme spinning around, speculation of attempts to devastate numerous male actors.”

  “Why?” The declaration troubled Amado. “My profession…I bring fama an’ jobs to the people!”

  “You, little import you are, believe you’re responsible for the careers filling that corrupt little speck of a town?” Declan laughed, the sound a chilling whoosh of breath. “Are you so involved in your screen personality you don’t realize any actor can do the same?”

  Amado bristled, but remained silent.

  “You have what others do not, yes?”

  The comment made him frown. He touched the breast pocket of his coat, feeling the crispness of his divorce papers. “What do you want of me? I ‘ave nothing.”

  “You’ve a lot to offer, Gerino, though you don’t think so.” Declan smirked. “I look at you and I see a handsome man. I’ve witnessed how you mingle with women, and your charm is undeniable. Indeed, I’ve seen how they collapse at the mention of your name.”

  “I am not what ‘ollywood says.” Amado disputed tightly, and bristled at Balthazar’s casual remark. “I am, come si dice? I am an illusion, a ciarlatano.”

  “You may claim to be a charlatan, but the doting fans of Armand Gerino don't know the difference.” The man countered smoothly, his eyes glittering in the gloom. “They see the movie star extraordinaire, the king of the cinema, and the immortal lover.”

  “My fame will not last forever.” Amado grumbled.

  “No, I suppose it won’t. You’ll age, like every other human. Arthritis will twist your limbs. Wrinkles will mar your skin…” Balthazar chuckled cruelly.

  “That is life!” Amado roared suddenly, his hackles rising at the maliciousness he detected.

  “I don’t doubt that.” The man glowered unpleasantly, mockery evident in his tone. “Besides, life is a series of tedious days, and boring beyond belief.”

  “That is your opinion, signore.” He almost spat at the man’s feet, disgust welling inside him.

  “That as it may be, but mortals are quite entertaining.” Declan smoothly interjected. “Tell me the truth, my delicious import. Hasn’t your life been amusing?”

  All Amado could remember was Louise’s betrayal. His private life hadn’t been entertaining!

  “No.” He muttered glumly.

  “My dear man, how you lie!” Declan countered with a jeering laugh. “Shall I remind you, until a few months ago, you had competition among your own countrymen, did you not?”

  “I…”

  “Isn’t it astonishing how every little Italian boy wants to be Hollywood star, due to your accomplishments?” Declan sneered. “Your journey to America, your success in films...you’re the iconic figure of wealth and prosperity to everyone in your homeland.”

  Amado ground his teeth, scowling. Silent, he ignored the vicious taunt.

  “In this repulsive little world, don't you believe there are men who’d enjoy your downfall?”

  He knew the man spoke the truth. “There are always....”

  “I can assure you many wish you were dead.”

  “You believe these sound men will manage this, kill me so easily?” Amado dared to scoff, his brows lifting slight. “This is nothing! I ‘ave bodyguards, and the people adore me! I am a star!”

  “You’ve bodyguards?” Balthazar spun on his heels, his action a nearly envious execution of grace and skill. He stopped as he caught Amado’s eye, a skeptical brow rising. “Where are they?”

  He groaned, and his eyes flicked over the stranger. Amado had forgotten he asked his guards to leave him in peace, to grant him a few moments of solitude, before mounting the massive hotel staircase.

  “I deduced you were alone,” the man hissed. “That’s why I’m here.”

  Fury warmed Amado’s chilled flesh. “You come to torture me with these tales. You talk nonsense…”

  “I promise you, you’ll be killed in ways that are very simple and legal,” Declan soothed. “Speed up the sound track, and your masculine reputation will be in shreds, far worse than little Louise managed.”

  “You know nothing of the films.” Amado ground out roughly, his face flaming at the reference to his ex-wife.

  “Perhaps I don’t,” Declan shrugged in a perfect imitation of Amado’s earlier deed. “Go ahead and release your latest movie, with the sound. Your fans will laugh their way out of the movie houses!”

  “Impossible!”

  His tormentor smirked again. “Would you dare become a laughing-stock for Hollywood and the world?”

  “You do not know this for truth,” Amado argued. The divorce had nearly shattered him, but becoming an object of ridicule would destroy him. Ruined, saddled with a voice not his, was worse than his broken English.

  “I know the malice in a mortal man’s heart.” Declan’s thick tone made Amado shudder with foreboding.

  “The world is cruel,” Amado nodded, but couldn’t understand why he did.

  “I know of more wickedness than you could imagine. I, alone, admit I’m capable of concocting evil, when I so desire.” The man neared him, his smooth words a flowing breath. “But, I wish to gift something to you.”

  “What can you ‘ave I would want?” Baffled, Amado frowned at the man.

  “I believe I’ve an attribute you might find vastly entertaining and my gift will save you further humiliation.”

  “What do you need from me?” The words fell from Amado in a tremulous undertone.

  “Join me, Amado Gianni.” Declan breathed, intensifying the actor’s unease. “Leave the persona of A
rmand Gerino behind, and join me.”

  “I must refuse your offer.” Uncomfortable, droplets of sweat materialized on Amado’s upper lip. “I do not know what you ‘ave ‘eard, but I prefer la bellas. The men, I do not like them.”

  Amado stared into Declan Balthazar’s dark eyes. His mind whispered to look away, but couldn’t, and his bewildered brain shrieking a frantic litany of prayer.

  “You’re so deliciously amusing and delightfully dim-witted,” Balthazar crooned.

  “I adore the women, signore.” Amado objected dazedly, the words thick on his tongue.

  “I don’t want you for the reasons you suppose.”

  Issued with a sneer, the comment sounded more like a gentle chastise instead of the supposed insult. Amado made an effort to straighten and walk away, but the action required too much effort. Bewildered, he gaped at the man.

  “What do you want?”

  “Let’s say you’ve certain….attributes that might benefit my associates and me.”

  “Attributes?” The unfamiliar word hung heavily in his mouth, and he felt decidedly drunk. He staggered backwards and his spinning mind briefly registered the champagne glass toppling from the ledge and crashing to his feet.

  “Yes, attributes.” Declan repeated with slow and deliberate ease, one long finger tapping at the slight cleft in his chin. His eyes narrowed, the dark pupils growing each passing second. “Pardon me, I forget your English might not be as I expect. Perhaps there’s a simpler word for me to use.”

  “You think you can fault my English?” Numb, Amado repeated the words dangling. “My English is not so bad I cannot understand what you say. I ‘ave lived in this country long enough, and I know what I ‘ear!”

  “Ah, dear Amado Gianni, poor little immigrant disguised in the façade of a skillful actor and lover.” Declan sneered smoothly. “With your looks, you could bring many to our side. Use your charisma, and your delicious accent, and those unsuspecting darlings of humanity will fall into your arms.”

  Amado didn't bother replying, realizing Declan made him feel he lingered on an obscene precipice. Defiantly lifting his chin, and attempted to ignore the stuttering beat of his heart. Frightened, he wanted to return to the overcrowded ballroom, mentally assuring himself there’d be safety in numbers.

  Unfortunately, it appeared the moments were ticking by at a speed defying reason. Amado’s world spun, the sensation resembling the effects of a Hollywood party stupor, his numb skin tingling. Incapable of catching a breath, he heard only the man’s silky enticement in his mind.

  “Come.” Declan beseeched, nearing his motionless body. As he drew closer, Amado's gaze filled with the image of startling pale flesh, nearly classical in shape. Vaguely, he thought the man was haunting beautiful, entranced by eyes that were an all-consuming black. “Join me.”

  “Join?” Amado could barely mutter the word, those eyes sucking the very ability to speak from him.

  “Say it.” His hands rose, the long and supple fingers lying on the actor's shoulders. Amado shuddered, incapable of holding back the betraying sign of fear, and an unmentionable coldness seeped through his jacket. “Say it, repeat the word.”

  “What word?”

  “Tell me yes.” Declan’s wintry breath fanned over Amado's heated skin. “I’ll grant you everything, if you do so. Join me, and you won't suffer the ridicule destined to befall you.”

  The offer was tempting, but a part of Amado's mind screamed in protest. He wanted to run, and leave this man behind, forgetting the temptations of his seductive proposal. Unable to move, his body frozen in place, his thoughts slowed with each tardy heartbeat.

  “Join my ranks, Gerino.” Balthazar crooned. “I can guarantee you everything you long for. I can offer life, beauty, youth, all the women you could love, and eternity.”

  Staring into those fathomless eyes, an inner part of him screamed No! Not a word slipped from his lips, and his lethargy increased ten-fold. Seconds passed, perhaps minutes, the silence only broken by the echo of Mamie Paul singing.

  The actor, his entire life spread before him, divorce papers still neatly folded in his breast pocket, felt his knees begin to buckle. His tormentor’s hands held him upright, a morbid chuckle escaping him as he bent forward. His black hued eyes glowed with an eerie redness, flickering where the pupil should have been, as his mouth opened wide.

  “Tell me yes.” He chanted, the words reeling around Amado’s numb mind. “Tell me yes, and I’ll rescue you from life’s horrors.”

  “I…”

  “Say it…”

  “Si….”

  He couldn’t control the single word that slipped from him, unseen fingers pulling his agreement from the depths of his soul. A low groan of horror escaped Amado, but he was unable to scream, frozen into place by the cruel meaning evident in Declan Balthazar’s gaze and the long canines declaring the man's intent.

  Chapter One

  The crowded living room of the apartment echoed with curses, a few harsh, others muttered. Despite the tone, Meghan heard the underlying similarity in each blasphemy. Hopelessness, disgust, and tears etched the gruff words.

  She winced, as the man bang his shin into another end table, upsetting three decade’s worth of collected figurines. The exquisite china wobbled, teetered, and then toppled to the carpeted floor. Thankfully, Meghan didn’t detect the sound of shattering glass, and exhaled a tiny but relieved sigh.

  “I c…can’t do this, Miss Stanley,” the elderly man stammered, staggering through the once familiar room. “My wife’s a hoarder, whether she wants to admit it or not. I can’t make it around her ch... chotskies!”

  “I don’t hoard, dear. Besides, you’ve always managed.” The woman sobbed, wringing her hands. “We’ve had this stuff since the kids were little, and you’ve never knocked over one before.”

  “That was before I lost my damned s…sight!”

  She detected the soft little sniffles his wife tried to stifle, and the labored breathing of her latest client. Meghan’s heart ached with the pain he felt, and wished she could make his transition easier. Everything came with an adjustment period, and her professional training taught her she needed to defuse the volatile situation.

  “Mr. Stevenson, believe me, I understand your stress …”

  “How c…can you!” He shouted. “You, of all people, don’t know how I feel!”

  “I…”

  He didn’t let her speak, interrupting her in a wobbly voice betraying frustration, anger, and barely concealed tears. “I’m a man! I’m supposed to take care of my wife, and family. I’ve always paid m…my bills on time, went to church every Sunday, and n…never used the Lord’s name in vain. I was good to my neighbors, and did my job with pride. Wh…what did I get in return? The world done gave me a sharp kick in the ass, because I can’t do shit now!”

  “You’ll have to learn have faith me, Mr. Stevenson.” She tilted her head toward his voice, her heart aching for the elderly couple.

  “How can I trust s…someone I can’t see?” He snapped sullenly.

  She managed an ironic smile. “The same way I can’t see you.”

  Meghan exhaled a breathy little sigh, thankful he remained conspicuously silent.

  “You c…can’t see me?”

  Meghan lips tightened into a rueful grimace. “No, sir, nor can I see your wife, or those irritating chotskies you’re complaining about, Mr. Stevenson.”

  “I’m s…sorry.” He mumbled awkwardly.

  “You don’t need to apologize, Mr. Stevenson.” She shrugged as she made the comment. “I lost my sight five years ago. Believe me, if anyone understands, I do.”

  “Do you?” He posed skeptically.

  “Yes, I do.” She affirmed stubbornly. “I am aware exactly how hard this is and, before you go snapping at your poor wife, you learn to have compassion.”

  He laughed outright, the sound abounding loathing. “S…so, you’re gonna to tell me how to c…cope with this…problem I have now?”


  “The firm sent me to help you.”

  “Your company ain’t too s…smart, little girl.” He grumbled. “Why idiot thinks the blind c…could teach the blind…”

  She didn’t let him finish.

  “I sympathize.” She managed tightly. “But, because of my disability, I can guide you through the problems you might have adjusting.”

  “Five years, you s…say?” He shook his head as he considered her earlier admission.

  “I lost my sight at twenty.” She disclosed hoarsely. “You, at least, had yours until recently.”

  He exhaled and she pictured the thoughtful scowl on his face. “S…so what do you suggest we do, Miss Stanley?”

  “First, we’re going to be working together.” She didn’t know if she could believe the humility she detected. “You can call me Meghan.”

  “Meghan.” There was almost the hint of a smile evident when he repeated her name. “My oldest granddaughter is named Meghan.”

  “Oh, you have grandchildren?”

  “Three.” He supplied easily, and then paused, waiting for her to speak.

  “This change isn’t just influencing you, but affects your wife, children, and grandchildren?”

  “God, don’t I know it!” He responded solemnly.

  “You’ll have to realize this is as new for them, as it is for you.”

  “Oh, I know.” He managed to grumble. “The thing is, these dupes don’t understand nothing…”

  “Your loved ones share in your pain, and your wife is hurting, too!” Meghan supplied quietly and raised her somber eyes to the ceiling.

  “How is Shirley s…suffering?” He scoffed irritably, his words nearly an indecipherable garble. “She can s…see just fine!”