Dark Rapture

by Hauf, Michele

  Rolling his eyes and reaching for another beer, Gary slumped back into the couch. “That sure takes a load off my mind. God knows he was never responsible for getting you into this situation in the first place.”

  Seeing that there was no changing her brother’s attitude, Scarlet cast him a defeated frown and was going to speak, but Sebastian tugged at her hand. “We’ll see you soon.”

  Leaving Gary coddling a six-pack of beer was unbearable. Stuffing the dress into the back seat, she fumbled at the pearls while Sebastian waited with the motor running.

  “He’s going to be all right,” he offered as she stood at the passenger’s door staring at the ghost-eyed windows of the mansion. “Your brother bounces back easily. Just give him a few days.”

  Trusting Sebastian’s intuition, she slid into the car and tucked her face against his shoulder, hoping he was right.

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Fragments of a nightmare seemed more real than ever. The taste of blood so sweet and smooth, like the chocolate syrup he used to crave as a child. Only this was more satisfying. As if nothing more was needed to sustain his life. The blood alone would be his savior. It ran down his throat quenching his aching need, relieving the pain and the unknown.

  And with the blood he had gained insight.

  This was what he was and had always been. The hunger for blood had been with him as early as puberty, when the first headaches had started. But he knew now that they hadn't been mere headaches. No, it had been the emptiness and craving for life, the blood hunger.

  Blood is the life.

  His limbs awoke with a start and Vince bent his knee, only to feel it jab into the thick satin padding inches above him. He opened his eyes to blackness and gulped in the thin air, hoping to catch his breath. But soon he realized that wasn’t necessary. There was enough air inside this tiny box. His coffin.

  “Shit!” The cover flew open and Vince sprang to the ground.

  “So, you see it wasn’t as bad as you expected.”

  Vince scanned the darkened room for the voice until his eyes adjusted and he could make out shadows. The black shadow of his coffin and the other coffin across the room, the flushed-out torch on the wall, and next to that, Francesco.

  “Are you ready, Vincent?” Francesco’s voice was evil incarnate. Something that belonged in the movies, the mad scientist who calmly prepared his victim for a lobotomy.

  “For what?”

  “To go out into the world and begin your new life. You must drink from a human tonight.”

  A chill ran down his spine and he chewed the tip of his fingernail. “Are you saying that I’m not human anymore?” He closed his eyes, not wanting to hear the answer.

  “Perhaps I should put that another way.” Francesco closed the distance between them, a black cat stalking the night. “You must feed on a mortal tonight. For you are immortal now, Vincent. And in order to maintain that immortality—well, as I’ve already said.”

  The word immortality hit Vince’s brain like a church bell ringing loud and clear. “I can never die?” Astonishment conjured up the little boy in him.

  “As long as you stay away from wooden stakes, crosses and the morning sun, and there are a few other things I will tell you about eventually.”

  “Wow,” Vince whispered.

  Rubbing his hands over his arms, he looked up to the tiny circle in the ceiling. The rain had stopped and the sky was a dark blue-gray. Immortality meant that he would live forever.

  “This could be kind of cool.” He swung around, eager to learn more. “I don’t have to actually kill anybody, do I? I couldn’t do that. At least, I don’t think that I could.”

  “No, Vincent, just take enough to satisfy.” Francesco motioned for him to follow, and again the dark hallway shrouded them. “You’ll know when you’ve had enough. Besides, you don’t want to kill, it brings about nasty nightmares that tend to haunt you for days.”

  Trailing his fingers along the wall to guide him, Vince followed as they traversed the hallway and this time he knew when they had reached the moving wall. Following Francesco back into the bedroom, he spoke eagerly while Francesco dug around in a box he had pulled from beneath the bed.

  “So I can go out all night and party as long as I’m back before morning? And I only have to drink from one person?”

  “You’ll drink when you feel the need.” Francesco looked up from the box, his grin self-satisfied. “But you’ll find that the more you have, the more you want. Which is not a terrible thing once you become skilled in the art of weeding out the undesirables from the choice few who have the sweetest life to drink from.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, don’t drink from drunks, or drug users, or anything you see wandering the streets. That’s hell, and you end up with their hangover or trip. Search out the young healthy ones for the best treat.” Francesco lowered his voice as he started to count a pile of crisp one-hundred dollar bills. “And don’t limit yourself to women, Vincent, men can be just as satisfying.”

  Francesco met Vince’s eye, causing an uncomfortable chill to run down his back. It was a look of hunger; hunger for the flesh.

  Vince blinked and shook his hair over his shoulders. “I get the feeling that this is kind of a . . . sexual thing.” He watched Francesco’s actions curiously, finding he wasn't in the least offended by his new master’s attentions. “How should I go about it?”

  “You’re right about it being sexual, but you don’t have to make love to every woman, or man, you choose to drink from. I’m sure you’ll learn quickly how to overcome your victims and take them without them being the wiser to your actions. It's called the persuasion, and I'll teach you how to use that so you can leave them safely knowing that they’ll never remember you or what happened.”

  “But what if I see a beautiful woman and I want to make love to her? Can I?”

  Francesco grunted, chuckling at the same time. “Why the hell not? I haven’t castrated you. I’ve only made you into what you’ve been all your life. Besides, having sex and drinking blood at the same time is the ultimate.” He looked up, his smile as sharp as his teeth. “You’ll wonder why I didn’t find you sooner after you’ve experienced it.”

  “Really?” Enthused ,Vince crossed his arms over his chest and assumed his trademark stance, feet spread shoulders thrust back proudly. “What about my friends, will they know? You know, like Gary and the guys in the band.”

  “I don’t want you to go home to your friends just yet, Vincent. Spend a few days with me perfecting your skills before you do.” Francesco stood and pushed the box back under the bed with the toe of his boot. “But do give Gary a call so he doesn’t worry.”

  “Shit, what’s he going to think?” Vince remembered he’d left Gary thinking he was near death. “He’s going to freak when he finds out what has happened. Oh hell, I forgot about Scarlet. She disappeared, Francesco! Gary has got to be going through hell right now. Unless—”

  “Somehow I don’t think he is.” Francesco fluttered a thick stack of bills through his fingers.

  “What do you mean by that?”

  “Vincent—”

  “Just Vince, all right? I told you before my mother was the only one who called me Vincent. I never really liked it.”

  He wondered what his God-fearing mother would think of him now.

  “Fine. Vince. I should tell you this now, you’ll find out sooner or later.”

  “What?”

  “It’s about Sebastian DelaCourte. He’s a vampire, too, and has been for a few centuries. And I’m quite sure that he has made your precious Scarlet into one, too.”

  “What? I can’t believe—Wait . . .” Vince considered Francesco's suggestion carefully. “I do believe that Sebastian is a vampire, that explains a lot of weird things. But Scarlet? Are you sure?”

  “I’m afraid so, Vince.”

  “Was she like me? Always a vampire?”

  “No, Sebastian committed a grave error in ta
king her mortal life.”

  “Oh God, not Scarlet, she’s so kind and sweet. I wonder if Gary found her somewhere in the house.” Vince didn’t know what was happening anymore. He shook his head. “If she is back, I’ve got to get her away from Sebastian.”

  “In time, Vince, I’m sure that you will be able to win over the lovely Scarlet. But first,” Francesco held the pile of money out, “you must take a mortal and become used to your new power. Take this money; you’ll need some clothes and other things. But be sure to be back before dawn.”

  While the information about Scarlet had barely begun to register, Vince reached for the money and stared at it, not really seeing what it was. There was something else he was going to ask Francesco. What was it?

  “I won’t be going with you, I’ve other things to take care of, unfortunately.” Francesco walked back over to the moving wall. “You’ll be on your own tonight, but don’t worry, it’s in your blood. You’ll know what to do when the time comes.”

  ... in your blood . . .

  That was it. Vince raced after Francesco and descended the spiral stairs right on his heels. “Francesco!” His voice bounced off the stone walls and echoed back to him. “You said that my father was a vampire.”

  “Most likely.”

  “Do you think he’s still alive?”

  They stopped at an outer door and Francesco stepped out onto the moist ground still glistening with dew from the rain. Vince saw there were no other houses in sight. A forest of bare trees surrounded the castle and a two-track dirt road led to the castle. They were out in the boondocks.

  “I have no idea regarding your father, Vincent. You, if anyone, would be the first to know if he was anywhere near you, that is for sure. But if you haven’t seen him since birth, then perhaps he is dead. Then again, since your father is a vampire, it’s entirely possible, and even probable, that he is alive.”

  Vince’s footsteps slithered through the weeds and soggy branches as Francesco walked swiftly through the field that bordered the forest. “Are there a lot of vampires around here? I mean, maybe I could find him. My father.”

  “I’m not familiar with this area, having only moved here a month ago. But I wouldn’t get my hopes up. Most likely he’s living abroad in one of the more gentle societies. In a place where modern technology has not taken over, I should hope.”

  Vince stopped. “You sound so cynical. What do you have against California and modern man?”

  Francesco turned and stopped next to Vince. “I was born in the eighteenth century, Vincent. I’d give my heart to the devil to go back to my homeland and my own century. These modern times are confusing and damned maddening, what with all your automobiles, and electronics, and computers.”

  “How old are you?” Vince squinted in the darkness, trying to determine the age of his master, whose youthful looks clashed with his ancient thinking.

  “I’m over two hundred years old. I forget the actual years, but it was around 1770 that I became a vampire.”

  “Wow,” Vince whispered.

  “Yes, wow, Vincent. You could learn a lot from me, young man. Don’t you forget that.”

  “How did you become a vampire?”

  “A close friend revealed to me that he was a vampire. I thought everlasting life a wonderful gift that should be shared. I convinced him to transform me and we wandered the streets of Paris as gentleman vampires for years after that.”

  “Cool. Who created you?”

  Francesco’s smile disguised the evil thoughts that raced through his head and he turned onto a gravel road not far from the sounds of the freeway. “You really want to know?” he called back as Vince tramped through the wet marsh and climbed to the road.

  “Yes.” Vince paused at the edge of the swamp and listened to the distant rush of cars on the freeway.

  Francesco chuckled to himself. His answer sounded with the force of being hit by a blow to the stomach. “Sebastian DelaCourte.”

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Scarlet woke in the evening to the sound of a breeze caressing the palm fronds outside Sebastian’s bedroom window. She rolled over and tickled the back of his neck with her finger, playing softly with the hairs that grew at his nape. He roused, smiling as he rolled to his back and stretched like a contented feline.

  The feeling that this thing between them was right spread to her face, turning her mouth into a sexy pout. “Sebastian?”

  Lazily he rubbed his eyes and reached to float his fingers across the sheet covering her stomach. “Mmm, yes, lover?”

  “Do you think you can handle being with me for an eternity? Don’t you think that you’ll grow tired of me after oh, say, a few centuries or so?”

  He rolled next to her naked body and snuggled close, nuzzling between her breasts to tickle the sensitive skin between them with the tip of his tongue. “Never, cherie."

  She arched her back to receive more of his wonderful torture. “I know now that we do belong together. I mean, me creating you, and you creating me. Though it still doesn’t make sense.”

  “It was fate, Scarlet. I believe that man can change his destiny, but I also believe that some things are simply destined to be. It may seem incredible what has happened, but it happened for a reason, I’m sure.” He kissed her neck, forging a tingling trail up to her lips, and then stopped abruptly, glancing over the edge of the bed. “Look over there, on the floor,” he whispered.

  She rolled over and saw the tiny pile of debris crushed in the middle of the floor. In the center lay a stick. “What is it?”

  “It’s the rose that you used to cut your throat and release your blood to me the night I was created.”

  “Really?” She slipped out from the sheets and knelt by the pile on the floor, touching it lightly.

  “I’ve saved it all these years. I guess I’d forgotten about it until this happened. I must have stepped on it in my hurry to get to you because I knew when you’d returned and nothing could stop me from seeing you again.”

  Scarlet picked up the stem and the last of the crumbled gray petals fell to the floor. She carefully scooped it up and held it on the palm of her hand. Just yesterday she had held this rose between her fingers. It had been fresh and in full bloom. It was Angelique’s Pride, the breed created by Sebastian’s mother. Twisting the stem between her fingers she could see the thorn was darker than the rest of the relic.

  “My blood,” she whispered. Her trip back in time flashed through her mind like a mini movie. She wondered what Nettie and Orlena thought of her disappearance, if they had ever tried to find her. “Sebastian, what happened after I left? What about Christelle? Do you know that I thought she was the vampire who was to transform you?”

  “Christelle wasn’t a vampire.”

  “Well, yeah, I found that out. But you must admit, she did have her claws sunk deeply into your frockcoats. Whatever happened to her? Did you ever see her again?”

  “That is a long story filled with a lot of painful memories.” He seemed unwilling to elaborate.

  “But—”

  “She’s dead now, Scarlet,” he interrupted forcefully, and pushed up from the bed.

  “Well, of course she is, but I was just wondering—”

  Sebastian pulled on his robe and swung around, his eyes glittering. “I killed her. The blood hunger was too strong, I hadn’t learned how to control it. Please, I don’t want to discuss this. I’m going to take a shower, and when I’m finished . . .” He turned away, catching the door frame with his palm for support.

  Scarlet gulped. “Then you hide me, right?”

  He nodded.

  ***

  Scarlet was pleased Sebastian allowed her one last stop by her brother’s house before going on to the hiding place that he would not tell her about. She had to check in with Gary, just to be sure that he was okay.

  While at the mansion, the phone rang, and Gary answered. He nodded and spoke carefully, measuring his words while his jaw crushed his gum. “What happened, Vince?
Are you all right? Yes, she’s back, don’t worry. It’s a long, weird story but I’ll explain everything as soon as you get home.”

  Scarlet slipped her fingers through Sebastian's hand. They both stood silently, hoping for some information. Anything that would help them find Vince, and ultimately, Francesco.

  “Oh? I see. So you’ll be gone for a few more days. I guess if you need time to yourself you should take it.”

  “Where is he?” Sebastian whispered urgently.

  “Uh, where are you staying, Vince? Oh. Well . . . uh . . . you’re okay, then?”

  Sebastian shook his head vigorously. He didn’t want Vince to catch on that they knew in case he would relay the information to Francesco.

  “I’ll see ya, man.”

  “What!” Scarlet and Sebastian both blurted out as Gary hung up the phone.

  “He’s not talking. He called to say that he freaked last night because he’s still hung up on his mother’s death. Like I believe that one after all the weird stuff that’s been happening around here. He said he’s going to stay away for a few more days until he can sort things out.”

  “He didn’t give an indication that anything strange had happened?”

  “No. He didn’t come right out and say ‘hey Gary, I’m a vampire now’ if that’s what you’re wondering.” Gary pounded his fist rhythmically against the wall on which the phone hung. Then he stopped. “But he did sound different.”

  “How do you mean?” Sebastian asked.

  “Sort of nervous, talked faster than usual. And it sounded like he was calling from a bar or something. There was a band playing in the background. Now that’s strange in itself, because Vince never goes to bars by himself. He’s always afraid he’s going to get trampled by a mass of women. He usually goes with me or a bunch of guys, his safety net, as he always says.”

  “Maybe he’s with Francesco,” Scarlet said.

  Sebastian received both of their questioning looks. “It’s possible. If he’s already been transformed then Vince will have to feed tonight and Francesco may be taking him on the rounds. Gary, did you recognize the band? Because if you did we might be able to track him down.”