The Vampire's Angel by Damian Serbu Read Free Book Online Page A

for them,” Thomas said and put his hand on Xavier’s back. The masculine touch sent chills through Xavier.
    “Can we talk about something else?” Xavier had had enough of the Saint-Laurents.
    “Did I offend you?”
    “No, I just need to forget about it for a while.”
    Thomas turned Xavier down a quiet, abandoned street as he kept his hand on Xavier’s back, and Xavier loved how Thomas commanded without smothering.
    “This is the first time you’ve said much about your family history,” Thomas said. “You told me about your sister and brother, even your parents. But I take it from this failed betrothal and the allusions to Catherine’s managing a fortune that you come from a great deal of money?”
    “Yes,” Xavier said with a trace of irritation. He hated talking about their wealth.
    “It’s nothing to be ashamed of.”
    “I didn’t mean it that way. You obviously have money, too.”
    Thomas laughed. “Stop worrying about offending me. I asked only because it makes you more intriguing.”
    “What do you mean?”
    “I assumed when we met that you were poor. You serve a small parish in a rather nasty part of Paris as a common curé. I don’t think that many people who come from the nobility receive such assignments. How wealthy are you?”
    “I’ve no idea. Catherine handles all of that. I just know it’s extensive.”
    Thomas stopped and held Xavier’s shoulders. His eyes burned into Xavier’s soul. “You’re beautiful.”
    Xavier squirmed. He looked away from Thomas’s piercing brown eyes, but Thomas grabbed his head and forced them to look at each other. “Xavier, why do you serve in this filth? Your family must have connections within the church.”
    Xavier turned his head and looked at the ground as he slowly pulled away. Though he wanted to tell Thomas about his religious philosophy, the sexual tension between them was too great. He resumed their walk.
    “It’s not about power,” Xavier said. “I grew up with that, and my family has served the monarchy for generations. Becoming a bishop would be easy, based on those connections. I suppose it sounds ludicrous, but I prefer my small church with the common people. I could send Michel a letter tomorrow and move to a new location overnight, but I can’t imagine serving the wealthy and listening to them practice their faith once a week, while the other six days they disregard the humanity around them for their own gain.”
    “But doesn’t it bother you, the poor condition of your church and the lack of food? Why do you grow vegetables when other clergy eat four-course meals every day?”
    “Because that’s real life. I don’t do it as some form of penance. I eat with Catherine most nights, anyway. I know it sounds preposterous. Michel tells me so all of the time.”
    Thomas stopped when they reached the Bastille’s edges, the dark structure that housed so many of Paris’s criminals. Xavier glanced at it, wondering how many people truly belonged in its confines. Its shadow loomed as Thomas stared at Xavier. Passionate feelings of lust, infatuation, and fear flooded through Xavier’s head.
    “I don’t think it’s preposterous,” Thomas said softly. “Your moral standards astound me. And I don’t say that to flatter you. I believe it. I asked because I care about you.”
    Xavier wanted to get away from the Bastille’s wicked eye so he headed north, toward his parish. “I’m sorry.”
    Thomas smiled. “There you go, apologizing. Doesn’t Catherine support you?”
    “Yes, of course, but she relates it to her independence. Mine isn’t about myself. I feel an obligation to humanity. I see innocence in almost everyone and I want to help.” They reached Xavier’s church and leaned against a small fence. “When I work within these walls, I touch people. For a moment, for a day, or for however long, I ease the pain and monotony of their lives.”
    “So you fully accept Catholic theology?”
    Xavier thought about that for a long