The man to her right nodded and smiled at her as she fumbled with the wax and then turned back to the group of musicians. Two violinists, dressed in blue velvet coats with gold embroidery, sat elegantly erect, their backs not touching their chairs, each swaying to the sensuous music. A cellist provided bass and haunting beat, while next to him stood a harpsichord. And at the shiny black keys a beautiful woman played a delicate tune.
She sat high and graceful upon a padded stool, and it was obvious that it was her sparkling eyes and delicate dark features that had attracted everyone to this corner of the room, because her musical prowess certainly lacked. She plucked out more than an occasional clinker, but no one seemed to notice, or else they were all too refined to show it.
The tilt of her chin, slightly up, and her long graceful fingers dancing across the keys, captivated Scarlet along with everyone else. Her black hair coiled into a smooth tunnel down the back of her head, secured with an emerald pin that matched the intensity of her eyes. Her maroon silk dress flowed across the tiny stool and down to the silver shoes peeking out beneath.
But who was that? To the other side of the woman stood a man, partly hidden from Scarlet by the woman’s body. She could see his hands resting on top of the harpsichord. His face held an expression of utter delight over what he was hearing and seeing. It was Sebastian!
Scarlet’s heart pounded. Yes, it was him. That was his black hair tied neatly in a bow, and his lips pursed in an adoring smile. How handsome he was dressed in the costume of the times. He wore a lavender velvet frockcoat decorated around the edges in intricate silver embroidery. It was unbuttoned and hung in a wide circle below his hips, revealing a lacy white shirt tucked beneath his dark purple waistcoat. His matching dark purple breeches tied below the knees with silk ties, and beneath them white silk stockings and shoes buckled with extravagant diamonds glittered as his toe tapped to the misshapen tune.
He seemed not to notice the sour notes, or to hear the whispers that passed back and forth across the circle, or to notice the winks and flirtations that were lobbed his way by a number of females.
Scarlet found herself gaping like the rest of the adoring women. Still so young and handsome. Of course, she recalled he was only nineteen. He looked the same as he had in the twentieth century, except perhaps that his hair was a little longer when she’d left him days ago.
She closed her eyes, remembering their coming together, and recalled his hair falling softly across her naked breasts as he'd took control of her body. Scarlet shivered.
But her hopes sank with the boxy metallic notes from the harpsichord. She would never get Sebastian’s attention, not with the way he stared at the woman. Who was she?
“Oh my God” she whispered to herself, and then looked around to be sure no one had heard her before turning back to carefully scrutinize the woman. Twirling a lock of hair in her fingers. Scarlet thought, “She looks like me.”
She remembered the anger she had felt when Sebastian said he had chosen her because she resembled the woman who created him. She must be the vampire.
She pressed her jaw tight to suppress the natural urge as her teeth threatened to come down.
She didn’t know what to do. Every fiber of her being, she ached to run to Sebastian and tear him away, but she would only create a scene and then be unable to explain her actions. No, she had to think of a plan.
With one last glance to Sebastian, she turned and pushed her way back out to the fringes of the crowd and began to walk the circumference of the great dance hall, not noticing when Sebastian's eyes turned from the woman before him to her.
There had to be some way to get rid of that woman before she had a chance to sink her fangs into Sebastian's neck. Scarlet left the stuffy ballroom and stepped into the courtyard where the rose-scented air misted around her.
I am a vampire, she thought, as she strolled the pebbled path that twisted around the fish ponds. What could be a better match than two vampires at each other’s throats? She could defend Sebastian, releasing him from the clutches of the evil vampire woman.
No.
She kicked a loose pebble across the path, watching it bounce once on the close-cropped lawn. She couldn’t imagine doing something violent. But she had to warn him somehow.
An inner voice asked, Why must you warn Sebastian?
“Because,” she whispered. “Because, I love—”
She bit the edge of her lip, wondering how that word had popped out. It was slipping into her thoughts without warning lately.
A wave of melancholy washed over her and she trudged through the crowd and the grand statues, not caring anymore for the fabulous sights and finery that paraded before her.
She stopped by a shallow pool surrounded by ornately carved cherubs and spike-tailed devils. Three carp swam in the pink-tinged water, their shiny white bodies flashing in the candlelight each time one swam to the surface to breathe in a bubble of air.
I’ll never get to him. History would remain unchanged.
Tears on the verge of falling, she sighed and looked back toward the crowd that had begun to disperse around the harpsichord. The woman was gone and so was Sebastian.
It was too late. He had already left with the vampire woman. Tracing her fingertips across the cool pink water, she felt a fish slide under her fingers, smooth and precious as a black diamond, and as elusive. Just like Sebastian DelaCourte.
Chapter Twenty-Three
“There you go.” Francesco let Vince slip from his grasp and the drunken young man crawled to the wall by the window. “Maybe I should open the window, let in some fresh air.”
Cranking the window half-open to let in the humid night air, Francesco turned and nearly stumbled over Vince, whose head was now bowed to his toes, his hand clutching his leg in a position he’d seen demonstrated by stewardesses for the event of a crash. He hadn’t thought Vince so drunk that he couldn’t sit up, but apparently he was. He helped him up and led him to the bed.
“I’ll get the lights and then leave you alone.”
The room blinked dark, save for the red glow of a neon bar sign from across the street flashing intermittently across Vince’s face. “Stay for a while.”
Francesco paused at the door, not believing what he was hearing.
“Please?”
In all his dreams, he’d imagined this chance. Closing the door gently, Francesco went to Vince’s side and sat on the edge of the bed.
“So everything’s ready to go for the funeral tomorrow?” Vince asked in a booze-slurred voice. His eyes flickered open and shut as he tried to fight the effects of the liquor.
“Yes, Vincent, don’t worry. All you have to do is show up and pay your respects. And I’ve scheduled your flight back home. I don’t mean to rush you, but I think the sooner you get back to your regular routine—You said you had work to do in the studio?”
“Yeah, that’s a good idea.” Vince spoke slowly, as if he had to remember how to speak. “When we get back I want you to meet my friends, all right? You’ve been a good friend to me. I know Gary would like to meet you, and maybe Scarlet—”
“Scarlet? Is she your . . . girlfriend?”
“I wish.” Vince rolled to his side and snuggled against to Francesco’s leg.
“Someone you want as a girlfriend?”
“Yes.” Closing his eyes, Vince said, “She’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met. Her hair is long and soft like one of those fancy mink coats. And her eyes are like jewels, the color of creme de menthe and just as appetizing.”
“Does she know how you feel?” Francesco questioned as he rested his elbow on the bed next to Vince’s head. They were side by side now.
Close to sleep, Vince’s words grew quieter. “Nah, she’s seeing someone else.”
“Really?” Raising his hand to Vince’s face, Francesco hesitated then moved it higher above his head. “Anyone you know?” Carefully, so delicately, he touched the strands of hair.
Vince spoke softly, sleep so c
lose. “Huh? Oh yeah, his name is Sebastian. Sort of a friend, but not really anymore. Doesn’t matter, after what’s happened.”
“Happened?”
“Yeah, to Scarlet, she . . . well, it’s hard to explain. I don’t understand it myself. Damn, that reminds me, I better give Gary a call later, see how he’s holding up.” Vince yawned. “I’m gonna go to sleep now, Francesco. Lock my door on the way out, will you?”
“Certainly.”
Slowly, Francesco’s fingers traveled the length of Vince’s hair. When the soft purring of sleep began, he walked his fingers to Vince’s forehead. He brushed the hair from his sweat-soaked skin. Matthias’s hair had never been so fine, even in his prime. At once the pain in his mouth began and the caverns that contained the uppermost portion of his fangs expanded. Francesco closed his eyes, allowing himself to enjoy a moment of teasing passion.
Opening his eyes, he focused on Vince’s lips. Pink and soft, parted slightly to allow the air to escape with each deep breath. A wispy scent of alcohol floated to Francesco’s nose but he ignored the unpleasantness. Daring a chance, he stretched out, moving carefully so as not to make a noise. His lips brushed Vince’s, afraid if he woke him he would be horrified. Vince didn’t strike him as the kind of man who would enjoy a male lover. A pity, because loving him would be exquisite.
Francesco leaned back, still feeling the warmth from Vince’s mouth on his lips. “If I can’t have you in body, my love, I shall have you in blood.”
He pushed the thick pile of hair from Vince’s shoulder, because every bit of delay only fed the delicious desire within. He fingered the thick blue vein momentarily before rising to his knees. “This is just going to be one of those little mosquito bites, Vincent, don’t worry.”
He pushed his hand under Vince’s head and pulled his body up to him. With the first contact, sharpened teeth to skin, Francesco’s head spun. As Vince’s blood spurted to the roof of his mouth and slid down his throat, he felt delirium would take over. Such wicked poison in this man’s veins! Truly more powerful than any drug.
Vince didn’t fight. He had been taken in sleep, but his body reacted to the blood release, bringing him to a dreamlike orgasm. His body shuddered reflexively and then went limp as Francesco carefully laid his head against the pillow. Red neon flashed over the puncture wounds on his neck, highlighting the crimson dripping down his skin.
"Mon dieu.” Francesco staggered to the chair beside the window and fell into it. The swoon was powerful this time, spinning his head and engorging every fiber in his body with a sensational surge of sexual release.
He breathed deeply, until finally he felt the control return. Focusing on the body sleeping peacefully on the bed he shuddered and shook the tremorous waves from his soul. “So powerful you are, Vincent Lyons. And you are unaware of it, I’m sure. But how?”
He staggered to the bed, restraining himself from reaching out for another caress. “You will be a useful weapon against Sebastian, my love. And if you only knew of your powers. But I will wait. Yes, I'll wait until you come to me.” He bent and kissed the blood from Vince’s neck.
***
Scarlet turned back to the ballroom in search of Nettie, her hopes of finding the one man who held the key to her future dashed. But she tripped over a raised stone and tumbled into the arms of a tall gentleman.
“Oh, I’m so sorry. I wasn’t paying attention—” She stopped mid-sentence as she raised her head and followed the plush lavender velvet that graced long legs, and looked into the gentle and familiar dark eyes of Sebastian DelaCourte.
A grin stretched across his face. “No need to apologize. I’m just pleased that you chose my arms to fall into.”
“Sebastian,” she whispered. She couldn’t believe her luck. Her pulse quickened and she couldn’t find the words. But what words did she need?
“Mademoiselle, it seems you already know my name, so now I must know yours.”
His dark eyes twinkled in the candlelight as he waited, unaware of the surge of desire he had ignited. It was as if they’d never parted. He was the same ravishing creature she had left behind days ago.
“Scar . . . ah . . . Elisabeth Montrose.”
“Elisabeth Montrose.” The name rolled off his tongue as if he were savoring a melting sliver of butterscotch. He offered his arm, palm turned up, and the delicate white lace that peeked out of his wide-cuffed sleeve fell to a peak below it. “Would you do me a great honor and dance the next dance with me?”
“I’d love to, but what about the woman?”
“What woman?”
Had he already fallen prey to the vampire woman? Bracing herself for his answer, she looked past his shoulder, scanning the crowd to see if the tone-deaf vampire was nearby. Her deep maroon skirts would surely have been noticeable in the sea of silvers and light blues and yellows. “The one playing before, I thought you were with her.”
Sebastian looked around in confusion. “Oh, you must mean Mademoiselle Meulan. An interesting musician, isn’t she? I’ve been giving her lessons, though I’m not sure that I should admit to it. But come, I don’t want to dance with Christelle. In fact, I was lucky to catch you. I saw you listening with the others but you slipped away so quickly.”
Scarlet threaded her arm through his and he led her to the black and white dance floor.
She couldn’t believe it—he had been searching for her. But why? Hadn’t he told her he was in love with the woman who had transformed him? Well, however he felt at the moment toward Christelle, she was on his arm now, and that was all that mattered.
She accepted Sebastian’s hand and he led her around the room. All eyes were on the couple as they began to step lightly. But she couldn’t help wondering how soon before Francesco returned. Just one dance, Scarlet thought, and then I’ll steal Sebastian away from the crowd.
Overhead the massive crystal chandeliers swayed in the breeze, the candles having burned down to less than an inch. Sebastian’s eyes were fixed on hers. His radiant, coal-dark eyes and full lips made her heart race. It felt so good to be touching him again. He was the very incarnation of passion. If only she could stop the music, freeze everyone in his place, and explain things to him. Tell him about his future, and hers, and of the mess she was in.
No, that wouldn’t work. He would think her crazy if she mentioned vampires. Unless, of course, he knew about Christelle. Did he know?
She sighed, lost in a confusion of thoughts, and followed him across the floor. They danced in a seductive silence charged by the conversation of their eyes, the unnerving touch of each other’s hands, the smell of each other’s skin.
His breath hushed across her cheek when he leaned close and whispered, “The heavens must have opened up tonight. For they’ve released an angel from their pearly gates and now I have the extreme pleasure of capturing her.”
Lingering by her ear, he pressed against the small of her back until their bodies were but excruciating inches apart. The bewitching power he’d held over her in the future was just as strong now. A delightful tremor surged through Scarlet’s body and she wanted him to wrap his arms around her and to feel the beat of his heart once again.
He stepped back and resumed the dance. The faces around her blurred and she tilted her head back. The candles above twinkled like stars in the pearly night sky, and she was dancing with her Prince Charming. Safe in his arms, everything would work out now.
Lost in her thoughts, Scarlet tripped across Sebastian’s toe, tumbling forward into his arms so that her nose pressed into the lacy folds of his jabot, where she recognized the faint scent of lavender.
“I’m afraid I’m not much of a dancer.” Out of the comer of her eye she could see the other couples staring at them. “Maybe we could sit this one out?”
“Whatever you wish. Far be it from me to deny one of God’s angels anything she should request.”
He clasped her hand and, pushing through the border of people surrounding the dance floor, led her out to the courtyard. Sca
rlet could see the women’s hands fly to their bright red mouths and they whispered from one ear to the next as she and Sebastian passed them by. She could imagine how they were putting her down. Clumsy girl, occupying all of Sebastion LeReaux’s time.
She clutched his arm. Let them talk. They had no idea what had gone on between the two of them. Of course, neither did Sebastian, but she’d worry about that later.
They strolled past the fish ponds and the long banquet tables. A pair of legs clad in brown velvet breeches stuck out from beneath the red cloth table covering, and beside the legs a puddle of champagne soaked the ground.
“Follow me,” Sebastian said, quickening his pace.
Hiking up her skirts, Scarlet tried to keep up with him. “Where are we going?”
“I’m bored with this party. I’ve been cordial and polite since three this afternoon, and I’ve tired of it.”
Many of the partygoers paused to observe where the guest of honor was headed. Nodding to each as they sped by, Sebastian did nothing to allay their curiosity, and continued their conversation.
“I know a place where we can talk, away from the noise and people.”
He turned and pulled her across the stone pebbles to the far edges of the courtyard where the candlelight flickered intermittently on widely-spaced columns of fluted white stone.
Ahead of her lay the opening to a majestic maze carved out of tall shrubbery that stretched behind the mansion. The entry was flanked by iron lion statues perched on their back legs, their manes ruffled proudly, their heads crowned by a dozen thick candles.
Sebastian pulled her into the labyrinth and wove through the twists and sharp turns.
“Sebastian,” she called out. He was walking so quickly and she had so many yards of fabric swishing in and about her legs she could barely keep up with him. “Slow down! This is your party. Do you think you should leave?”
“Yes!” He turned back to her. “I’m bored to tears with this extravagant display of wealth. I don’t care if it is my party. Besides, I’ve just received the best present of all.”
Dark Rapture Page 22