“Once you get into the main rooms the smell isn’t so bad,” he whispered, dismissing what had just happened. “Everything is going to be fine, Scarlet. You’ll see.” He brushed his lips over hers and then pushed her in front of him. “Hold my hand, there’s a winding staircase ahead but it’s too dark to see.”
She grasped his hand and stumbled across the first two steps. Thereafter, she was able to judge the distance between steps and followed Vince, who quickly ascended the staircase as if he’d done it a hundred times before. The floor leveled out and soon he pulled her down a hallway.
Was he bringing home a stray puppy to show his master? Would he display his find proudly, before the master ripped her to shreds? Knowing that once she was within Francesco’s grasp her time was limited Scarlet walked slowly, feeling the resistance from Vince’s hand. It seemed as if he had no idea of Francesco’s plan. Could it be possible?
Ahead of them, the glow that she’d seen from the ground seeped out from an open door. The windows were all broken and shattered into piles of dirty glass on the floor. Piles of broken, rotted wood heaped along the walls. Had Vince lived in this place since his disappearance? No wonder he’d gone mad.
As they neared the door, the light was blocked by a tall shadow and Scarlet came face to face with Francesco Volierre.
Vince pushed her in front of him.
“Vincent,” Francesco said with the delight of a child receiving a new toy. “You’ve found her! Oh, this is wonderful.” He stepped aside and motioned to Scarlet with a welcoming smile. “Come inside, my lovely one. Let me see the beauty who has captured the heart of my new blood child.”
Yeah, right, she thought. That old eighteenth-century charm was not going to fool her this time.
Vince led her in and Scarlet saw the high flames of the fire licking at the wood piled in the hearth. There was a single chair over by the window and ashes scattered everywhere, as if they had been swept to the floor each time a new fire was started.
“Very beautiful indeed, Vincent,” Francesco said with a nod to him, and he began to circle her as if she were a circus attraction.
“I found her in a graveyard,” Vince said. “Sebastian had tucked her away in some dirty old coffin and left her for good.”
“He was going to come back!” she protested, but Vince broke in immediately.
“Scarlet has this crazy idea that you want to hurt her. I told her that wasn’t true, since all you want is for me to be happy with her. Isn’t that right, Francesco? Tell Scarlet the truth so she’ll know. You mean her no harm.”
Aware of the tension in Francesco’s posture as he turned and walked to the fire, Scarlet used this chance to take a quick inventory of the room. Besides the chair there was a rolled-up rug against the wall opposite the fire, and over that hung two ancient swords, both rusted. The only escape was through the door by which they’d entered.
Francesco toed the edge of the fire, pushing a half-burnt log back into the flames, and a spray of orange sparks flickered over his boot.
Vince strode over to Francesco and leaned against the mantel, keeping a watchful eye on Scarlet. “She has been telling me lies, hasn’t she? You don’t intend to use Scarlet to get back at Sebastian for some past misdeed, do you, Francesco?”
She slowly edged to the chair and glanced out the window at the gray sky and blackened ground and then quickly back over to the fire. Vince stared at the side of Francesco’s face while the other vampire held his silence. She guessed Francesco must be vacillating between telling Vince the truth or lying to him again.
Vince really had no idea what Francesco was up to.
Becoming angry, Vince spoke calmly but much louder. “Francesco, I know you would never betray me, not after everything you’ve done for me. Now, please, tell Scarlet the truth. You mean her no harm!”
Francesco broke his silence. “I can’t do that, Vincent. I’m sorry, but I did not disclose the entire truth to you.”
“What?” Vince shot out. “You lied to me?” He looked to Scarlet, his face confused and drawn. “No, I won’t let you hurt her. You can’t.”
Just come back over here, Vince, Scarlet thought, as Francesco turned his head to gaze at her. The man was plotting. He was the devil with flames in his eyes, and he would stop at nothing to avenge his pain. Even if he had to betray his own blood child.
“It has to be this way, Vincent,” he said calmly. “Sebastian must know the pain of losing one so cherished. It is better if I do away with her now, before you become too attached to your little prize.”
Scarlet glanced out the window again and nearly screamed with delight, but quickly stifled her relief. A set of headlights was headed toward the castle.
“You bastard!” Vince said, prompting her attention back to the two men.
Scarlet had to do something to buy some time. Suddenly a thought struck her, and with a deep breath she stepped forward, closing the distance between her and Francesco. “And you would do this to the most beautiful rose in all of Paris?”
Vince was confused, but Francesco’s glare locked onto her eyes. He stared hard as the wheels in his memory slowly erased the cobwebs. He was remembering, she could tell by the way his jaw slowly dropped and his hand pointed to her.
“You?”
He remembered. But would it do any good?
“Yes, Francesco, how quickly you forget.” She walked to Vince’s side and threaded her fingers through his.
“No, it is impossible. But . . .” He reached out, coming within a foot of her face, and trailed his finger along the outline of her head as if piecing things together. "Mon dieu, it is! How is this possible? You are a witch! Yes, that is it! You were the one who created Sebastian and saw to the eventual destruction of our friendship. I don’t know how you did it, but it doesn’t matter. All witches must be burned at the stake and suffer eternal hellfire for their damnable actions!” He swung around and bent over the fireplace.
“Oh shit!” Vince grabbed her and pulled her toward the window. “He’s going to do it. He wants to set you on fire!”
“No, Francesco!”
Scarlet turned to the door and caught her breath. Sebastian had slipped in and now brandished one of the ancient swords, while he dangled the other in his left hand.
“Your vendetta is with me. And you will face me alone before I let you harm either one of them.”
Francesco whirled around and Vince pulled Scarlet over to the chair, imprisoning her in his arms. But she didn’t fight; she was too thankful to see Sebastian. And then as the two vampires, once friends, faced each other down, Gary appeared in the doorway.
“Scarlet!” Gary yelled. He rushed across the room, brandishing a stake, and pushed Vince away. Sebastian shouted for them to stay back. This was his fight.
He tossed the other blade through the air and Francesco caught the grip expertly and assumed the en guarde stance. As Scarlet was enfolded into Gary’s protective arms she prayed that Sebastian knew what he was doing. She remembered the skill that Francesco had demonstrated to her less than a week ago.
Sebastian assumed the same stance, his right arm thrust into the air in a salute matching Francesco’s, and Scarlet remembered Francesco explaining that you must always salute, even your enemies. She braced her hands against Gary’s arm, absently fingering the wooden stake, and watched as the swords clashed in a rattle of flashing steel.
“You’re a bit rusty, old friend,” Francesco teased, as he dodged Sebastian’s sword easily.
“So, you still consider me your friend? I thought you’d changed that to enemy long ago.”
“Isn’t it only fair?” Francesco said as he made a sweeping lunge at Sebastian. Two centuries had done nothing to diminish their skills; their movements were swift, their actions clean and graceful. “Tit for tat, an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth.”
“Once a friend always a friend?” Sebastian added with an inquiring tilt of his head.
“Ah, but my friends have never been eng
aged in the company of a witch before.”
Francesco stabbed through the air, missing Sebastian’s shoulder by a fraction of an inch, and Scarlet gasped.
“A witch? You mean Scarlet? Or should I say, Elisabeth Montrose. So you remember, Francesco. Well your memory is better than mine. But a witch she is not. An angel, perhaps, but never a witch.”
“To each his own,” Francesco said quickly, eyeing the trio by the window to be sure that no one had in mind to thwart his actions and interfere in the duel.
The two engaged swords in front of the fireplace, their faces inches apart, and Sebastian could see the sweat dripping down the side of his former friend’s face. Francesco growled and was able to push him away. Sebastian stumbled over the hearth, nearly falling into the flames.
Scarlet struggled, prompting Gary to clutch her tighter. “Please, I have to help.”
“No,” he said quietly. “This is between the two of them.”
“I’m sorry, man.” Vince laid a hand on Gary’s shoulder.
“Don’t worry, Vince. I’m only concerned with one thing right now . . . Kill the bastard!” Gary shouted, brandishing his stake overhead.
“So you’ve come to kill me, have you?” Francesco asked while his sword clanged across the other.
Sebastian had the advantage now as he dashed his opponent across the floor to the far wall and Francesco fervently tried to defend the new onslaught of attacks.
“Can you say that you don’t wish the same for me?” They moved dangerously close to Scarlet and she wanted to reach out for Sebastian, but Gary pulled her closer to the window. She was on edge as she watched, her fingers squeezing the wooden stake anxiously.
“I had my eyes set on a different prey.” At that moment Francesco dodged Sebastian’s sword and slipped close to Scarlet, bringing the tip of his blade to her chest, and just as quickly, stepping away and re-engaging with Sebastian to prove his point.
Sebastian leapt from his opponent’s sword to the fireplace, and turned only to let out a cry. Scarlet tried to see around Francesco’s body as his back was turned to her, but she could only see Sebastian’s sword arm falling to his side.
“Let go of me!” she screamed and pulled out of her brother’s grasp. She stepped forward, unknowingly clutching the stake to her chest, and at that moment she could feel the sharp stab of her fangs as they pricked her lower lip.
“Direct hit, I believe,” Francesco said proudly.
Sebastian dropped his sword to the floor in a clatter and fingered the blade that was suspended in mid-air. The blade had pierced him below the left nipple and exited out his back. Francesco stepped to the side and bowed to Scarlet, his face a wicked mask.
“No!”
Sebastian looked to her, his face growing weak, and she felt she could no longer contain the anger and hatred growing within her—but there was something amiss. He winked at her.
“Don’t get your hopes up, Francesco,” Sebastian said, prompting his opponent to turn back to him and gasp in horror. He pulled the narrow blade from his chest slowly, catching the tip as it left his body. A spot of blood colored his shirt. “Like a fork through Jell-O. But then you’re not familiar with the properties of Jell-O, are you, my ancient friend?” He tossed the sword to the floor. “I think you’ll need a thicker weapon to cause my heart to burst.”
Something clicked inside of Scarlet and she raced forward in defense of her lover. “I’ve got just the thing!” Before Francesco could turn around, Scarlet plunged the stake through his back.
Sebastian stood aghast as Francesco reached down and fingered the thick, bloody point that protruded from the gushing fountain in his chest. He pressed his hand over the stake, trying to push it back out, and then looked at Sebastian, the blood already running from the corners of his eyes and mouth.
“I only wanted what was justly mine.” He choked up streams of thick blood. “You took Serena from me.” He staggered and his foot slipped in the blood pooling at his feet. “Was I so wrong?”
He fell forward and Sebastian caught him under the arms, then lowered him to the floor.
“I’m sorry, Francesco, my friend. You went about it the wrong way.”
Francesco’s body slumped, his eyes closing, and Sebastian set his head on the ground at his feet.
“May your soul find the heavens above. Au revoir, Francesco Volierre.”
He looked up to Scarlet. “I—I—can’t believe I did that,” she mumbled. “I k-killed him.” She shuddered, but an ear-piercing scream shattered the stillness. Vince’s legs bent and his body fell to the floor.
Gary bent over Vince while Sebastian stood and received Scarlet in a crushing embrace. He looked her over frantically, smoothing her hair from her face and scanning her features to be sure she was all right.
“I’m so sorry, Scarlet.” He wiped the tears from her eyes and kissed her again. “I thought you would be safe. I never wanted things to happen this way.”
“I killed him, Sebastian. I shouldn’t have—I would never—”
He quickly pressed a kiss to her lips, silencing her worries. “You saved my life, cherie."
Still shaking, she looked down at Francesco’s inert body. “Saved your life? I did, didn’t I?” A shudder of pride ran through her veins. “I really did it. I saved the day.”
Behind them, Gary called for help.
“Hold tight, my brave angel, I’ll be right back.” Sebastian rushed to Gary, leaving Scarlet standing alone.
She jittered nervously but it was no longer from the shock of what she had done. “I really did it,” she whispered, feeling the elation build. “Yes!”
“Is Vince going to be all right?” Gary asked as Sebastian knelt next to him.
“I think so. When his master dies, part of him goes too. But hopefully it’s the part that never should have taken him in the first place. The evil part.”
Scarlet joined them and Gary pulled her down into his arms. “I was worried about you, sis. These past few days have been hell.”
“It was a good thing you had that stake.” Sebastian looked over Gary’s shoulder.
“Hey, I’ve had the urge to stake a vampire for a few days now. ’Bout time someone got around to doing it.” He laughed nervously. “But don’t worry, after today, I think I'll retire that stake.”
“Whew,” Sebastian said with a grin and the two men embraced Scarlet.
Vince came to with a start. “Where’s Scarlet? Is she okay?”
“She’s fine,” Gary said. “Everybody is fine, I think,” he said with a glance around the room. At least he hoped so. It was painfully evident that he was the only mortal in the room.
“I never wanted to hurt Scarlet," Vince said. "I can’t believe what I’ve done. It’s as if Francesco had some kind of power over me.”
“Sebastian said that Francesco’s control over you would vanish with his death. Looks like you’re your own man now, Vince. Er, ah, vampire, that is.”
“Hey, Gary.” Vince reached out and Gary clasped his hand. “How do you feel about your best friend being a bloodsucker?”
“Nothing new to me,” Gary said with a defeated sigh. “Kind of starting to get used to you guys. Here, let me help you up.”
The two walked over to Sebastian and Scarlet, and Vince apologized adamantly. But there was no reason. She forgave him, and Sebastian suggested they go home to celebrate.
“What about Francesco?” Vince asked.
The four of them turned to the hearth where Francesco lay. There was nothing but a bloody stake and a pile of ashes where his body had lain. The flames flickered and the breeze pushed the ashes across the floor into the puddle of blood.
“Always wondered if that part was true,” Sebastian said. “If vampires returned to ashes with their true death.”
“Guess that answered your question, huh?” Gary said as he walked over and scuffed the pile of ashes. He got a splatter of blood on the toe of his shoe and scraped it across the floor, making sure he brought no p
art of Francesco home with him.
“Does he have any control over me now, Sebastian?” Vince asked.
“No,” Sebastian said. "Goodbye, Francesco. I will not forget you."
Sensing his grief, Scarlet pulled him close. “He was once a good man. We will both have our memories of him and he’ll never die in your heart.”
“Then I’d say it’s party time.” Vince let a whoop shatter the silence. “Let’s get the hell out of here.”
Tossing the bloody stake into the fire, Gary joined in and the foursome headed home.
Epilogue
Clutching the diary against his chest, Vince descended the stairs of the crypt. It was deathly cold but this time the temperature did not bother him. He had told Gary he needed some time to himself after everything that had happened. Taking his friend’s uneasy nod as a sign of acceptance, Vince said he’d be up later.
Standing over the third coffin, in which his own name was carved into stone, Vince wondered about his future. Francesco’s death had coursed through his body like a streak of red flames burning for release and Sebastian had said that Francesco’s control and vicious anger would be gone from him now.
But Vince wasn’t so sure. The empty gnawing inside his body remained. He wanted—no, needed, blood. And it had to be the thick rich blood that burst forth as the heart exploded beneath his hands.
But what would Gary think? Or his other friends, and the guys in the band? He couldn’t tell them. At least, he couldn’t let on that he still had murderous cravings. No, he would be the good vampire to them. It wouldn’t be wise to show his true self.
The stone lid slid aside easily under his vampire strength. He reached inside the cool confines, touching dust and bone, which shattered beneath his crushing grip.
“I’ll have to bring the vacuum down here tomorrow,” he muttered and swept the skull and other bones toward the foot of the coffin.
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