Series: The Realm of the Vampire Council, Book Two
Author: Damian Serbu
Publisher: NineStar Press
Release Date: February 11, 2019
Heat Level: 3 - Some Sex
Pairing: Male/Male
Length: 84600
Genre: Paranormal, LGBT, 19th century American South, vampires, angels, established couples
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Synopsis
The Vampire’s Quest brings back the
beloved gay vampires, Xavier and Thomas, in the anticipated sequel to The
Vampire’s Angel.
In 1822, the Archangel St. Michel orders
Xavier to go on a quest to America, a quest that violates the Vampire Council’s
laws to the point of a possible death sentence. Worse, Xavier must abandon his
lover, Thomas. Xavier runs to his aging sister and pleads for Catherine’s help
as Thomas races after them. With Thomas and the Vampire Council vying for
Xavier’s soul, Xavier and Catherine struggle to obey the former priest’s divine
calling before their inevitable capture.
Excerpt
The Vampire’s Quest
Damian Serbu © 2019
All Rights Reserved
One: St. Michel’s First Visit
8 March 1822
London, England
St. Michel stood before Xavier in all his
glory, with his sword in one hand and a stern look peering through the golden
light flooding from behind. “Listen, Child of God, and obey. Go to Mont St.
Michel. Go to the monastery and cathedral built to my legacy and to God’s
glory. There I shall issue further instructions.” As St. Michel parted, his
sword lashed across Xavier’s forehead.
Xavier cried out in his sleep, waking
with blood dripping from his brow. The confines of his coffin never felt so
claustrophobic.
He reached up to discover the gash from
St. Michel’s sword already starting to heal. Why did that surprise him?
Vampires healed almost instantly. But how could he imagine their magical
healing powers could undo the wrath of an angel rained down in a dream?
The lid to the trunk-cum-coffin lifted
and candlelight flooded Xavier’s face.
“What’s wrong?” Only when he heard
Thomas’s alarmed voice and looked into his piercing dark brown eyes did Xavier
realize his lover had already awakened for the night and no longer lay next to
him.
“Nothing,” Xavier whispered.
“Nothing?” Thomas almost shouted. “You
were screaming. And you bled. There’s an injury here.” Thomas reached down and
touched Xavier’s forehead where St. Michel wounded him.
“It’s healed now.”
Thomas lifted Xavier out of the trunk and
moved him to the nearby bed. He held Xavier in his strong arms and rocked back
and forth. “What’s going on, abbé?” Thomas used his affectionate nickname for
Xavier, from his human days as a priest. “Tell me.”
“You have to believe me. I know you
don’t have the same faith, but this is real.”
“Talk to me.” Thomas clutched Xavier
harder.
“We have to go to Mont St. Michel in
France. Immediately. Tonight. St. Michel, the archangel himself, commanded it.”
Thomas frowned. “We arrived here to
visit Anthony.”
“Anthony will understand.” Xavier
trusted their closest friend, and the oldest vampire they knew, would accept
their explanation for a hasty retreat.
“It was just a dream. Aren’t you
overreacting?”
Xavier stifled his rising panic. He
pointed to his coffin. “The blood. You saw it for yourself, on my forehead. He
cut me as a warning. Please, you have to believe me. We have to go.” Xavier
hated the desperation in his voice. It made him sound unhinged, almost as
unstable as the time he disappeared during the French Revolution while human,
lost in his drunkenness because he fled from Thomas’s love.
“Then we’ll go.” Thomas petted Xavier on
the head, then leaned over and kissed his cheek.
“Do you think me mad?”
Thomas chuckled but squeezed Xavier in
his arms. “Always. I never know if your visions are a flight of fancy or real.
But they’re a part of you. Have I denied you anything since I converted you to
a vampire? No. And I never will. So we’ll go.”
Thomas’s skepticism almost convinced
Xavier to question what happened, until Xavier stood and saw the blood stain on
the silk lining where he slept.
Moments later, Xavier and Thomas said
goodbye to Anthony, who as expected, made no protest at their sudden departure.
They crossed the English Channel by swimming at vampiric speed and approached
Mont St. Michel.
The mere sight of the majestic place
awed Xavier. On the northern tip of France sat a small island upon which stood
a mystical cathedral, rising out of the clouds and reaching up to the heavens.
Built from the eleventh to fifteenth
centuries, legend had it St. Michel visited St. Aubert, the bishop of
Avranches, three times in a dream, commanding him to build a tribute to the
saint atop the island rock. Enraged, the bishop had not heeded his call; on the
third visit, St. Michel hammered the imprint of an anvil into the bishop’s
head, so when he woke he would believe the saint visited his sleep. Impressed
by St. Michel’s message, the bishop commenced the project, which took several
centuries and various manifestations to complete.
The soaring cathedral built atop the
island stretched into the night sky as the two vampires slowed their pace.
Xavier and Thomas walked through the fields of grazing sheep toward the water,
where they again would need to swim because of the high tide engulfing the
island. The small city beneath the castle still acted as a medieval village,
with gates and stone walls surrounding it for protection. The one road on the
island wound up the steep hill, toward the abbey and monks’ quarters. Above the
village, overlooking all of France, the church stood as a legacy to medieval
architecture and its grand monuments to God and St. Michel.
St. Michel called Xavier to the shrine,
the grandest of all memorials to him. Thomas and Xavier woke an innkeeper and
rented an entire floor of his establishment for privacy. They then explored the
small island’s shops, closed for the night, and last, the grand monastery
perched atop. They took a few needed items from sleeping merchants, including
an enormous traveling chest they could convert into their temporary coffin, but
left behind twice the value of the objects they took.
Xavier and Thomas concealed themselves
in their rooms inside the trunk. Xavier braced himself, as the sun rose, for
another visit from St. Michel, but woke the next night well rested. With no
further divine instructions, the vampires made love and decided to further
explore the island.
Inside the cathedral, overlooking the
channel, Xavier again talked to Thomas about why they came to Mont St. Michel.
“Did you ever think you’re worried about
something else?” Thomas pulled Xavier into his arms. Xavier loved the feel of
Thomas’s long, black hair against his cheek. “Maybe these visions mean
something else. Archangels don’t really visit people.”
Xavier looked into Thomas’s brown eyes
and ran his fingers through his hair. “You saw the blood.”
“There are a thousand explanations for
that. Why go to ghosts and spirits?”
“Because he came to me.” Xavier put his
head on Thomas’s chest, afraid Thomas thought him insane. Insanity would have
been easier to confront than the actual visit from an archangel.
“And so we’re here. What now?” Thomas
asked.
“We wait.” Xavier shrugged and pulled
away. “We can tour this magnificent place.” Xavier twirled and motioned to the
tapestries and view around them. “Here, come back to the courtyard. The view is
magical.” He reached for Thomas’s hand and pulled him outside.
As they admired the water and saw the
lambs sleeping on the mainland of France, Thomas came up behind Xavier and
wrapped his arms around his waist. Soon, Thomas’s tongue lapped at Xavier’s ear
and his hands wandered across his body. Xavier tensed with sexual passion,
leaning into his lover, forgetting about the archangel for a moment.
“Someone will see,” Xavier said
half-heartedly, at the same time reaching his head back to lock lips with
Thomas. “Should we go to our rooms?”
“I can’t wait. It’s the middle of the
night. No one is awake.”
They made passionate love to one
another, right in the churchyard.
“Blasphemy,” Xavier said to his lover as
they redressed. “In front of a church. I already have an angry archangel after
me.” Xavier wondered how much he really meant. Did he think God would
disapprove? Xavier felt sure God would dwell more on the power of their love
for one another.
But what of St. Michel? Xavier doubted
he had the same forgiveness as God. His legacy of violence against those whom
he enlisted on his missions told a different story. Then again, Xavier felt
certain last night St. Michel would come to him at once, either in their
quarters or while Xavier slept through the day. Nothing. No vision. No sign.
“Leave the archangel to me. Nothing will
harm you.” Thomas smiled at Xavier as they walked down the steep steps toward
their inn. “You need to relax.”
“I am. I know I worry a lot. But not
this time. He came to me. He really did.”
“Then we’ll wait. For as long as you
need and as long as he doesn’t prohibit sex.”
“He might not want it in front of the
sanctuary again.” Xavier grinned. Thomas’s penchant for blasphemy amused the
former priest, despite certain irrational qualms about it. Thomas laughed and
pulled Xavier close to him. They spent the remainder of the night in their
quarters, with Xavier writing to his aging sister, Catherine, in Paris and
Thomas organizing financial affairs.
Before the sun appeared, Xavier retired
to their makeshift coffin. Exhausted, he soon fell asleep, before Thomas joined
him.
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