Nodding that he understood more than he wanted to, Gary started down the driveway and Sebastian rushed back to the grand room where Scarlet lay.
He slowed as he neared the couch, taking in his sleeping beauty. He recalled everything as he knelt beside her and trailed his fingers across her tightly-cinched stomach, then up the seams of the bodice to the red stain between her breasts.
“It really did happen that way,” he said as he realized the thorn had pierced her skin before she had used it on him, ripping a red gash across her neck, providing the fountain of eternity from which she had forced him to drink. Tracing a finger up to her neck he could make out the rapidly fading wound where the thorn had slashed her skin.
Bending over her, he kissed the hand that rested on her stomach, christening each finger one by one. “I still want you to marry me.”
The flashlight on the table shone on her and he leaned back to switch it off. There was enough light from the intermittent flashes of lightning so Scarlet would know where she was should she wake. He didn’t want to wake her now and bother her with Vince’s situation.
And what to do about Vince? The things he had read in the diary were coming full circle. Alexander Lyons, the murderer of Marie Elisabeth Debonet, had revealed his vampirism in the yellowed pages of the diaries. Most of the men on Vince’s father’s side had been vampires. And now, after laying his hands on Vince, Sebastian was sure he was also vampire.
Sebastian stalked out to the garage in search of Gary. He knew he was going to have to tell him his suspicions. That Vince had been kidnapped by Francesco. And they were both vampires. Gary was going to love hearing that one.
But what was Francesco doing? Why would he use Vince for his revenge? He obviously had no idea of the way things had been lately, that Vince was less than friendly with him now that he’d hooked up with Scarlet.
Or maybe he did?
The trees whipped madly in the strong winds and he watched as the fierce weather ripped a dead limb from the oak in the front yard and chucked it to the ground. It stretched at least ten feet from tip to broken end and its smaller branches braced the main branch two feet above the slippery grass.
“Oh shit!” Gary appeared, dodging the falling limb just in time.
Running to the center of the yard, Sebastian turned Gary away from the branch and yelled over the raucous wind. “Did you find him?”
“Did I find him? Oh, yeah, sure, he’s right behind me.” Gary stuck a finger over his shoulder and pointed to the tree limb.
Damned attitude. But Sebastian remained calm. He was going to have to keep his wits about him.
The two men stood in the center of the yard staring at each other. Finally Gary backed down and walked to the discarded branch behind him, slipping in the slick grass as he did. He broke some twigs from the massive limb and tossed them through the storm.
“Gary, I think there’s something I should tell you.” Sebastian stood beside him and watched as the man continued to tear the smaller branches from the broken tree arm, cracking them across his knee, and then whipping them to the ground.
“What the hell is it now?” Gary snapped, not turning to look at Sebastian. “Or do I want to know?”
Sebastian could see the tension flexing the muscles on the back of Gary’s neck where his hair had parted from the rain. “I think I know why Vince has been having headaches over the years and why he freaked out tonight.”
“Yeah?” Gary turned around and pointed a jagged stick at Sebastian’s chest. “And who made you the medical expert all of a sudden? I know one thing about you, DelaCourte, and that is that you’re a fucking vampire! And you made my sister into—”
“Gary.” Sebastian pushed the menacing stick out of his face, not willing to start the same argument again. “Vince is a vampire, too. I’ve been reading the diaries. And after seeing Vince tonight, my suspicions have been confirmed.”
Gary looked as though he was going to cough up a hairball. He shook his head, waving the stick in the air before the two of them. “Oh, no way, man, don’t you say that.”
“Gary, it’s the truth. I touched Vince when he was lying on the garage floor.” Sebastian dodged the slashing stick and stepped back with his hands raised in defense. “Listen to me, Gary! I felt the same thing I feel when I touch Scarlet. I told you about this before. Vampires can tell their own kind by touch. It's called the shimmer. I know Vince is a vampire!”
“Then how come he never said anything to me? Huh?” Gary wavered closer, brandishing his weapon. “How come he never tried to suck my blood?”
“Vince doesn’t know he’s a vampire—at least not yet. There are different kinds of vampires, some more pure than others.”
Gary’s expression didn’t change as he stood ready to charge with his stick.
“I’m sure that Vince is an in-born. His father was a vampire, and as soon as he tastes the blood of another he’ll become a full-fledged vampire himself. Gary, I read the diaries, the entire male side of Vince’s family were vampires.”
“Where the hell is he?”
“I don’t know—”
The stick slashed through the air in front of Sebastian but he was able to pull it from Gary’s hand.
“You do know, don’t you? You know where he is.”
“I have an idea.”
Gary lunged forward only stopping when the tip of the stick pressed into his chest. He eyed Sebastian’s dripping face, daring him to make a move.
“He mentioned a name when you were in the house.” Sebastian tossed the stick to the ground. “Another vampire.”
“Another vampire? What the hell is Vince doing with a vampire? He doesn’t know any vampires!”
Slowly the two moved across the yard as Gary paced toward Sebastian. Not wanting to rile him more than he already had Sebastian tried to remain calm as he cautiously measured his steps and tried to keep from slipping across the slick ground.
“His name is Francesco Volierre, and I know him. He’s come to town seeking revenge on me and I think he’s got Vince now.”
“He’s after you, but he’s got Vince?” The branches snapped under Gary’s shoes as he backed Sebastian toward the front steps of the house. “I don’t understand,” he said and flicked his head to the side to clear the rain from his eyes.
“I thought he’d go after Scarlet.” Sebastian stumbled over the first step but Gary caught him by the collar and pulled him upright.
“This vampire is supposed to be after Scarlet, and you knew about it? I can’t believe you, DelaCourte. Look at all the trouble you’ve brought into my sister’s life since you’ve hooked up with her, and now you’re dragging Vince into it too.”
“I had no idea Francesco would go after Vince. I don’t know how this happened.”
“So suffice, you expected Scarlet to fall into this bastard vampire’s hands, yes?”
“No, Gary, you don’t understand—”
The wind was pushed from Sebastian’s lungs and he fell to the wet grass after Gary’s fist plunged into his chest. Before he could right himself the man straddled him, pounding his head with his fists. Sebastian flipped Gary to his back. He was reluctant to fight back, remembering his promise to Scarlet that he would not hurt anyone she loved but he could at least defend himself.
The two of them rolled across the soaked lawn. Gary’s shouted obscenities vied with the storm to be heard and he occasionally landed a punch on Sebastian’s face, as they both struggled to get to their feet. The rain hindered Sebastian's attempts at harnessing the angry man’s arms.
“Gary, you’ve got to listen to me, fighting won’t help.”
“Oh, yeah? We’ll see about that.” Another crushing blow hit Sebastian’s jaw but he shook it off.
“You’re no match against me, Gary.”
He swung and hit his target, sending him to the ground. Whispering a silent apology to Scarlet, Sebastian crawled over to where her brother lay. But to his surprise Gary pushed up, butting him in the chest w
ith his head and sent him stumbling backward.
At that moment the sound of oak creaking against rusted hinges made Sebastian look up and twist his head toward the door. Scarlet stood in the doorway, a vision in eighteenth-century finery, but her face twisted in shock.
“Gary, no!”
Sebastian turned just in time to see the tree branch plummeting toward him. He felt the pressure of its razor-sharp point rip his shirt open and enter his chest.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Shaking violently from the chill rain and intense pain, Vince looked around. The steps of the twisting staircase were narrow and Francesco had to turn to the side in order to carry him up. The little light that shone through the sporadic windows was enough so that Vince could see. The walls were of roughly hewn stone, though time had blunted the corners and carved pocks in each one. Here and there in the crevices was an occasional sprout of greens, and more often than not, a thin web from one of the many spiders that traversed the walls.
The smell of rot and decay rose with each step Francesco took as he hurried to the top of the circular tower. It was unlike anything Vince had ever smelled before.
“Where are we?” Vince muttered wincing as each word beat another crucifying nail into his pounding head.
The staircase opened to a hallway.
“This is my home, Vincent. And now it is yours.”
His home? Fighting the pain was becoming harder as the minutes passed. This had to be some kind of a nightmare.
Francesco’s feet scraped across piles of rubble and broken shards of wood. Vince squinted, unable to lift his lids open any further. There were no pictures on the walls, nothing to decorate this cavern of horrors, and it appeared to be more of an abandoned castle than a home. Something from medieval times that he had only read about in books. And was this the dungeon? He was about to question Francesco but again the pain spread through his body, overtaking him in a queasy rush of bile to his throat.
Vince fainted in Francesco’s arms.
Awakening to mummifying darkness brought about feelings of suffocation. Vince blinked to be sure his eyes were open, becoming more frightened when he realized they were. His body rocked gently back and forth, a sign that Francesco still carried him. His mind spun and he remembered Francesco holding him in the back of the car.
“You said . . . you could . . . help me, Francesco. Where are we going?”
“The bedroom is just ahead. You’ll need to lie down and rest.”
His words were abrupt, as though his attention was elsewhere. When Francesco had said “I can help,” Vince had thought that he possessed some medical knowledge. But what were his plans now?
The urge to jump from the man's clutches and run back to the mansion where his friends awaited struck hard. Vince squirmed in Francesco’s arms in a weak attempt to wriggle free. But he couldn’t. Though the frequent spasms had subsided he was only able to hang in the man's arms.
The scuffling of Francesco’s feet across the stone floor came to a halt and he pushed against a wall, which moved easily under the weight of his shoulder. The straining of rusted hinges cracked through the darkness, bringing Vince back to awareness as they entered a room lit infrequently by flashes of lightning.
Vince squinted to adjust to the dim gray room. It was a shambles, though it did resemble a bedroom. The only piece of furniture was a four-poster bed in the corner, though only one post remained intact, the others broken in half and thrown in a pile on the floor. From the top of the unbroken post hung a limp gray piece of lace, torn and rotted from years of neglect. It billowed and arched as they approached as if acknowledging their arrival.
Francesco laid him on the bed and stood over him, a dark shadow backlighted by the window behind him. He still wore the t-shirt and jeans he had purchased in Minneapolis. A misfit searching to fit in.
It was then that Vince wondered if Francesco wasn’t more his own age of twenty-five years, instead of much older as he’d previously thought. Why was he so different, then? So out of touch with his own generation and so peculiar.
What was it about this man that piqued his curiosity so much? That drew him almost as if he had some sort of unearthly power over him? Vince found himself reaching out through the damp, putrid air, praying that Francesco would turn to him. Would sit beside him, soothe him with his voice, and chase the pain away. He wanted to know this man, inside and out. To belong to him somehow. To be accepted by him. Or if only…to be saved.
As if he had overheard Vince’s private thoughts, Francesco turned and took his hand. “Listen to me now, Vincent. And do not speak until I am finished. I know your pain and I am going to tell you about who, and what, you really are.”
Vince closed his eyes, feeling the bed sink as Francesco sat beside him. He wouldn’t speak; he didn’t think he had the strength even if he wanted to. So he nodded and waited for Francesco to begin.
“You will drink from me tonight, Vincent Lyons, and begin your new life. A life that has been with you since birth, a life that must now be realized before death takes you.”
The words entered Vince’s skull and floated aimlessly from one side to the other. It was becoming harder to understand what with the loud buzzing that had started. Something like drink with me. Well, that would be cool. A good stiff drink sounded great. Anything to kill the pain.
“Open your eyes, Vincent, and take what is rightfully yours. This is your legacy!” Francesco’s voice boomed with malicious pride. “You are a vampire, my child.”
Vampire? Vince opened his eyes. The bloody hand that reached out for him was Francesco’s, his fingernails dripping with blood. He saw the man’s throat was torn open, the blood drooling down his black t-shirt.
Before he could comprehend what was happening, he felt the slippery fingers push his mouth open and spread across his tongue.
***
The wet lawn hampered her footsteps as Scarlet slipped and slid over to Sebastian’s inert body. Gary hung over him with the stick still clutched in his fist, Sebastian’s blood dripping from the split end.
Scarlet pushed Gary onto the ground and collapsed next to Sebastian to examine the wound. It had skimmed the top of his shoulder, pushing the flesh back to revel bone.
“Are you okay?” She took his head in her hands and turned it from side to side, searching for more injury. “Sebastian?”
He blinked his eyes open and shook the rain from his face. “Oww, yes, love, I’m fine. Just a little flesh wound.”
“Let’s go inside.” She helped him to stand and turned to Gary, not caring how angry she sounded. “You could have killed him! What were you thinking?”
Speechless, Gary shrugged and tossed the stick at his feet. His face was swollen and bruised from a few well-placed punches. “Sorry,” he muttered and followed the two inside.
“Let’s go upstairs and wash this off.” She pushed Sebastian toward the stairs but he held back.
“I’ll be all right, Scarlet. It’s you I worry about, you should be resting.”
Rest was the last thing on her mind. “I feel perfectly fine, Sebastian.”
They started up the stairs to Vince’s bedroom and crossed the floor to the adjoining bathroom. She couldn’t wait to hear an explanation for finding her brother and Sebastian rolling around on the ground in the middle of a rainstorm. She suspected from Gary’s silence that there was more to it than just brotherly jealousy.
Rummaging through the sparse supplies in Vince’s closet, she found a cloth and held it under a cool faucet, then found a bottle of alcohol in the medicine cabinet. “Take your shirt off.”
Sebastian complied, sitting down on the edge of the bathtub, and she pressed the wet washcloth to the wounded flesh on his shoulder. He didn’t flinch when she let the alcohol stream over his wound. His hair hung over his face, veiling the pain and his silence.
“Are you going to tell me what you and Gary were fighting about or do I have to read your mind? Must have been a hell of a reason for Gary to come
after you with a wooden stake—oh my God! Does he know?”
“It was a tree branch,” Sebastian said quietly, and pushed her hand from his shoulder. “And yes, he knows. He came over to my place a few days ago and I had no choice but to tell him. I think he has accepted the truth, though as for liking me too much, well . . .”
“What did he say about me?” Would Gary accept her? Or would his disgust for her new lifestyle drive them apart?
“That feels better,” Sebastian peeled the cloth away from his shoulder. “It’s already healed.”
True to his words, Scarlet saw the wound had already closed up. She felt the tears well as her emotions were torn from her heart. “What if he hadn’t missed?” She knelt between his knees. “What if it had gone through your heart?”
Pulling her shaking hands onto his lap, Sebastian smoothed her wet hair over her shoulders. “He did miss, cherie, and that’s all that matters. Don’t think dreadful thoughts.”
“I’m so, I just can’t imagine—” Their eyes exchanged silent worries for each other. “Why were you two fighting? Is it because of what you did to me?”
“It’s Vince.” Sebastian fumbled with the pearls on her sleeve, leaving muddy fingerprints across her arm. “Francesco has him, I’m sure.”
“Vince? But how?”
“I don’t know. Vince arrived minutes after you got back. He was—” He swallowed.
“He was what? What’s going on, Sebastian?”
“He was in bad shape.”
“Another one of his headaches? I saw what they do to him. I hope he’s all right.”
He put his finger to her lips. “He was in agony from the blood hunger.”
She didn’t blink. Sebastian quickly went on.
“He’s a vampire, Scarlet. An in-born. His father was most likely a vampire, and as soon as he tastes blood he will be transformed. It’s been with him since birth. I’ve read through the diaries that Vince found in the crypt. Vampirism has been passed down the family bloodline through the centuries. His headaches have been a manifestation of the blood hunger.”
Dark Rapture Page 31