“I love you, Scarlet, and you know it hurts me to see you like this.”
She squeezed his arm, thinking how Sebastian’s moderately shaped muscles were nothing compared to Gary’s. He had been so strong…
“I love you, too, Gary, but don’t worry. My head has already stopped hurting.”
“I’ll be up in awhile.” He watched as she gingerly stepped up the stairs and then he went back into the kitchen where Vince was repacking the first aid kit.
“I should have stopped him when he told me he was going to ask her out,” Vince chastised himself. “I wanted to, but I didn’t know what to say.” He tucked the medical tape into the box and slashed the tiny scissors through the air. “I like your sister, Gary, and it pisses me off to see her treated like this.”
“I know you do.” Gary draped his arm around Vince’s shoulder and carefully plucked the scissors from his hand. “I wish she’d been out with you tonight instead of him.” He shook his head and ran his fingers across his temples. Sebastian’s name grated across his mind like a dull blade. He couldn’t wait to get his hands on him. “It’s getting late. Are you going to the mansion tomorrow?”
“Yeah, the construction crew has started reinforcing the stairs. They said it shouldn’t take too long.”
“I’ll stop by on the way to the studio. I want to get things started, maybe even lay down a few tracks. Then maybe we can pay a visit to Mr. DelaCourte.”
Chapter Five
He was thinking of her. His amour. His angel from heaven.
Or had she come from hell?
She had come into his life on the eve of his nineteenth birthday. He had been enchanted by her beauty and her exotic ways.
Her eyes, the color of the Queen’s emeralds, had glittered with curious mystery. And when her thick lashes had fluttered, they betrayed her knowledge. He had asked her to dance, yet when they began, her hand clutching tightly at his, she'd become confused as to the steps and had laughed at herself, capturing his heart with her bold innocence.
She'd stayed with him for a short time. Too short. But her soul had permeated his and he had fallen deeply and hopelessly in love. She had not followed the ways dictated by society. In fact, at times she had seemed oblivious to the way that things should be. He still wondered what had happened. Where had she gone?
The vampire stirred in his chair, settling his head against the blue velvet cushions and looking up at the ceiling, envisioning the faces of his past.
Something so familiar.
Impossible. He had loved her, kissed her, and made love with her. No, he knew she wasn’t the same woman.
But it had been a long time.
“I’ve not since felt the love that I once knew for those precious few days,” he ruminated aloud while swirling the contents of his glass about the sparkling crystal. “And I have lived so long.”
She had disappeared into thin air. Right before his eyes. But not before changing his life forever.
He had rushed home from the city that night after an afternoon vigil at the bed of a sick friend. She awaited him, appearing distraught and sad, as if she were in trouble. They had both known that she had to leave and both wished that she didn’t have to.
The vampire sighed at his memories, blurred in spots by time, and by the will to forget all that meant so much to him. They had made love, sweet and vigorous. But then, without warning, she had taken his head in her hands, She had been in tears and he'd thought she was going to give him an answer to his marriage proposal.
All she said was: Some day you’ll understand, Sebastian. I love you.
And before he could protest, her fangs descended between her rosebud lips and dripped the deadly poison of her soul onto his cheek, a long tear of blood that had changed his life forever.
Sebastian rose and walked to the mantel. He lit a candle, played with the flame, and leaned reflectively against the cool marble.
“I’ve found her match.” Possibilities gleamed within in his mind. “So much you resemble my creator, Scarlet. I should almost think you her if I didn’t know that you are not a vampire.”
He stared through the candle flame. Yes, he would certainly know if she was a vampire. All vampires knew one another upon touch. It was called the shimmer, and indeed, shimmered a sensation across one's skin.
How strange that fate was playing this wicked game of double identities with him.
Yet how sweet.
“Scarlet Rose.” He sighed, letting the glass slide through his fingers to land with a crisp clink on the mantel. “Damn.”
Remembering his actions the previous night sent a chill down his neck. She would never invite another chance with him. He had surely scared her away.
Sebastian wrung his hands together as if to squeeze the violent feelings from the pores of his skin.
“No!” He threw the glass into the barren fireplace, sending wine-colored splinters flying across the carpet. He raged across the living room. “I want to make her mine!” He clenched his hand over his thudding heart. “Until eternity writes an ending to both of our lives. She is my match. My soul mate. I need her. And I will make her mine.”
***
The next afternoon Scarlet received a bouquet of ruffled white roses, full and lacy, like a handmade treasure. Two dozen fully opened blossoms suffused her senses with their delicious scent. The label tucked inside the vase explained that they were Angelique’s Pride, a rare breed first bred in the mid-eighteenth century.
Her heart pounded as she pulled the card out of the envelope and read the flowery script; they were from Sebastian. He sent his regrets, apologies, and promises to make things better. Though he wrote not a word as to what might have been wrong.
Scarlet sighed. There had to be a reasonable explanation. He was too much of a gentleman to have it any other way.
Luckily, Gary had left and so had Vince. She set the vase on the kitchen table and straightened the flowers into a pleasing arrangement. I guess he deserves another chance. Maybe I should call him, see exactly what was wrong.
She felt at the sore flesh above her hipbone. Sure enough, there was a bruise there. He had been an animal.
So why don’t I feel more contempt toward him? She fingered a velvety white rose petal.
The cell phone sat quietly on the counter top. Scarlet touched it, sliding her nails across the shiny black plastic.
No. She pulled back. I’ll wait for him to call.
Chapter Six
“I’m going to pick up my stuff and head home, guys.”
Scarlet tossed the screwdriver into the toolbox and readjusted the curtains she had just hung. The filmy white sheers did little for the majestic interior of the second floor hallway, but they had been on sale, and actually fit the tall, narrow windows that stretched along the upper hall. Until Vince got around to getting some custom-made drapes for the odd-sized windows, these would do.
“It’s starting to rain again and I have a terrible feeling that I left the screen door open to the patio.”
Gary and Vince were laying down a path of red carpeting on the newly reinforced stairs. Vince’s great-grandfather had left a small amount in trust for him, but after getting appraisals from the remodelers, Vince decided that they would do as much of the work as possible. He let the professionals take care of the major construction work, such as redoing the stairway and the roof. Now, a week and a half later, all that was left was to scrub the dirt from every corner of the place and paint. A monumental job in itself.
“I think we’re almost done, too.” Gary pounded another nail into the oak steps. “Not much daylight left, and until Einstein here remembers to pick up some light bulbs, we’re finished.”
“I don’t recall seeing a list that said that was my specific i job,” Vince said.
Scarlet stepped over Gary’s arm, avoiding the toolbox at the bottom of the steps. “I’ll see you guys later.”
She smiled to herself as she walked down the hall. Vince was such a character. Such a lo
vable character. She wondered if maybe she should have waited, and chosen him over Sebastian. Well, a girl didn't have to be exclusive so quickly. She'd keep her options open.
***
Vince pressed his hands into the carpet and pushed the thick red material against the stairs so Gary could pound in another nail. “Catch you later, Scarlet—Oww!”
“Oh, man, did I get you?” Gary dropped the hammer and searched for blood on the carpet.
Pushing his head against the step, Vince moaned. “No, don’t worry, it’ll pass.”
Another one of his attacks. Gary looked down the steps; only two left. “Why don’t you relax. I can finish this.”
Vince rolled over and stretched his long legs out across the stairs. “Are you sure?”
Gary jammed the toe of his tennis shoe into the carpet, pushing it tight against the stair. “Yeah, go sit down.”
“I think I’ll stay here for now. Besides, there’s no place to sit.” Vince looked up at the arched ceiling supported by thick wooden beams and closed his eyes. His mouth pulled tight. He winced each time the hammer hit its mark. “We have to pick up some furniture one of these days.”
“Almost done,” Gary said. “You going to make it?”
“Yeah, it’s almost gone. I’m glad this never happens when I’m on stage.”
“You’ve been lucky.” One more nail and the job was done. Gary looked over the aisle of red carpeting. Fit for a king, he thought with satisfaction, as his eyes traveled back down to his friend spread out across the bottom steps. “Looks pretty good, I must say. We’re quite the handymen.”
Vince rolled over and picked at a bent nail pounded deeply into the carpeting. He laughed now, the pain subsiding. “Don’t get your hopes up man, stick to playing guitar. I don’t think anybody is ever going to pay you for your carpentry skills.”
“Yeah, but you must admit it’s not bad for a beginner.”
“Kudos to you.” Vince stood and clapped. “Hey, let’s check out the vault before we go. I brought a flashlight.”
Gary smoothed his hand across the carpet and shook his head in pride. “Sure man, let’s go.”
***
The jeep sputtered, and with one last ailing breath, the engine gave up and the vehicle rolled to a halt. Scarlet looked out the foggy windshield. It was raining in sheets, pummeling the hissing vehicle, muffling the sounds of the exhausted engine. She turned the key repeatedly, thumping the gas pedal, but to no avail.
She smeared away a clear spot on the windshield. Her house was close, just a dozen or more blocks. Why did this have to happen when it was raining?
“That’s the last time I buy a car from a junkyard,” she muttered.
Through the downpour, she could see Sebastian’s house out the passenger corner of the windshield. An inviting glow from the porch light beckoned her.
Now, what to do?
She didn’t want to go to his house after what had happened last week. Though it was nearly healed, the cut on her forehead still stung whenever she thought of him. But, perhaps if she used the phone, and then left immediately, things would be okay. Maybe she could even talk to him, find out what was wrong, and why he hadn’t called her. Since receiving the roses she hadn’t heard from him.
Muddling the decision over, she cursed the vehicle, watching helplessly as the rain puddled in the darkened streets. Walking did not appeal. Besides, she had already made that trek once and she was damned if she was going to do it again, especially in this horrid weather.
But was she ready to enter Sebastian’s lair again?
She tapped the steering wheel to the beat of the rain and reasoned with herself. He does deserve a second chance. Gary had been surprised to see that she hadn’t tossed the roses out.
“I thought you didn’t want to have anything to do with him?’ he had yelled.
She had said that to her brother. But there was something about Sebastian. It was hard to stay angry with him. Even now, as she rubbed the disappearing scar on her forehead, she tried to think of one good reason why she shouldn’t give him another chance. His kisses were not one of them.
Swiping at the moisture on the window again, she decided to make a run for it. Scarlet stepped out of the Jeep, her feet sinking into a puddle. She groaned as the cold water poured into her suede flats. The air smelled of fresh grass and the bewitching glow from Sebastian’s porch light beckoned again.
She sprinted toward his house, stopping mid-puddle to pull off her ruined shoes. Halfway through his yard she was completely soaked, her cotton dress clinging to her body like a wet paper towel. Once on the porch, her finger slipped on the door bell, and she was surprised when the door pushed open easily.
Moonlight washed across the kitchen floor, leading her eyes further in.
“Sebastian?” she called quietly, feeling guilty at having opened his door and even more guilty when she stepped inside, closing it behind her.
Cool water puddled at her feet as Scarlet scanned the room, listening intently for signs of the house’s inhabitant. Though she knew this was wrong, the feeling that Sebastian wouldn’t want her standing out in the rain reassured her, and she stepped across the kitchen floor.
Shaking off a shiver, she brushed water from her arms and then, noticing the mess she was making on the floor, tiptoed to the sink to get a towel. She wiped up the puddle, following her trail to the center of the kitchen on her knees. She stopped when she came upon something that wasn’t rain.
Curiosity urged her to dip her finger into the bubble of red liquid on the floor. She rubbed it between her fingers, wondering what it was. Sniffing, she didn’t recognize the faint metallic odor—and then it hit her.
“Oh, my God, this is blood. Sebastian must be hurt.”
Leaving the towel on the floor, Scarlet stood and looked up the stairs where she knew his bedroom was. That had to be the reason for his not answering the door. If he was hurt, he might be lying somewhere, bleeding.
“Sebastian! Sebastian?” she called as she ran up the stairs, but she stopped mid-dash.
"Mon dieu! What is going on?” Sebastian’s voice boomed as he hustled down the stairs, his silk pajama bottoms ruffing against each other as he took the steps two at a time.
Scarlet shrank down the steps and across the floor, feeling her spine meld against the cool facade of the refrigerator as he approached her. A wildness flashed in his eyes, but within seconds, he regained his gentle composure and went to her, cupping her chin in his hand.
“Are you all right, Sebastian?”
His eyebrow quirked. It was obvious he had no idea of her worries. “What? Yes, I’m fine. Why are you here, cherie?"
He was so close she could see his temples pounding. But there was no blood that would explain the drops on the floor.
Scarlet held out her hand and displayed her red fingertips. “The blood. I thought you were hurt.”
As if she wielded a dagger instead of her bare hand, Sebastian backed away, releasing his gentle grasp on her.
“It was on the floor, Sebastian. Don’t worry, it’s not from me. What’s going on?”
He looked up and down her shaking body, though it seemed to Scarlet that he was trying to get as far away from her as possible, his eyes wide with…fear? As if she would try to hurt him. What was he afraid of?
Remembering his actions last week, she eyed the door. He’d flipped out once; he could do it again.
“Maybe I should leave. My car stalled, but if I you’re not feeling well again—”
“Scarlet, you must forgive me for the other night,” he whispered urgently. “I was not myself. Like you said, I wasn’t feeling well.”
“That’s what I thought.” Strange reaction to being sick, wasn't it? Nearly raping someone? “I forgive you, Sebas—”
She stopped abruptly upon seeing his body tense and then relax immediately as if a tremor of pain had rippled through him. “Are you all right? Are you still sick?”
He lowered his head, twisting it from
side to side as if to wring out a stitch in his neck. “I’m fine,” he whispered breathlessly. “Do not be concerned, s'il vous plait. I should get you something to dry off—”
“Sebastian.” A sleepy female voice interrupted from the top of the stairs directly above where they were standing. “Sebastian, come back.”
Scarlet craned her neck to look up and over her shoulder toward the voice, and saw a hand sliding down the railing and wisps of silky red material floating in and about the twisted wooden railing.
She felt a painful twinge of jealousy. “I’m sorry if I—”
Sebastian jerked his gaze toward the voice and his dark eyes glimmered. “No! Go back!”
In a flash, she felt his arms around her waist as she was pushed against the wall and pinned tightly against it. Twisting to get a better view, she saw a woman clad in a flowing silk robe slowly stepping down the stairs, her eyes trapped in an inanimate gaze. Just then, Sebastian’s hair fell in front of Scarlet’s face blocking her view, and she struggled to free herself.
Why is he acting this way? What’s going on and why doesn’t he want me to see her?
Scarlet pulled far enough away from Sebastian to get a good look at the woman’s face. She gasped as the girl stopped at the bottom step and turned toward them. Her eyes were utterly blank as she stared at the wall directly behind Scarlet and Sebastian.
And then Scarlet noticed her neck. She’d been cut. A stream of blood was pumping slowly from an indiscernible wound on her neck.
What was going on? Had Sebastian hurt her? Why wasn’t he helping her?
Terrified, Scarlet began struggling, pushing against his hard body in an attempt to move him away. But Sebastian maintained his position, holding her firmly against the wall.
“Go back,” he whispered violently, and the girl responded by returning soundlessly up the steps.
Once again, he bent at the waist, twisting and straining against some unknown pain, though his grasp on her arms remained iron tight. Scarlet couldn’t budge and could barely breathe as he rested his body weight against her. She strained to see the expression on his lowered face. What was wrong with him?
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