Dark Rapture

by Hauf, Michele

  It hit him like an avalanche as Rico’s smile pushed into his cheeks.

  “After our little stay with Francesco, Cat and I came to realize what it was in life we wanted. You know. I have already told you what it is we truly desire, Sebastian.”

  “Everlasting youth,” Catrina chimed in. “To never fear aging.”

  Pressing his forehead into his palms, Sebastian hung his head, but Catrina’s mention of everlasting youth, caused him to glance up the marble stairway. Things were starting to make sense now. Morbidly clear sense.

  His eyes fell over the blood washed across the tiles. “The girl’s…” he whispered.

  “And so…” Rico paced before the distraught vampire. “In return for our generosity we ask for the one gift that only you can give to us. Eternal life.”

  That was what he thought.

  Sebastian flew from the couch, pushing away from Rico’s reach. He paced toward the broken glass, the smell of warm blood enticing him closer, but then stopped when he realized the attention he was receiving. Yes, that is what they had wanted tonight. They wished to see the monster feast on blood!

  “That is what we request,” Rico reiterated.

  “Do you know what you ask?” Sebastian lunged forward, meeting Rico’s mismatched gaze with his own. “I live the life of the damned! I feed on the blood of innocence to prolong my own miserable existence. Is this what you want? To take life from others?” He faltered, knowing now, that was something they already did.

  “We want to live forever,” Catrina said casually, as if she was merely requesting a refill of tea or another cake.

  “Ahh!” Sebastian threw up his hands. “The seduction of life everlasting. So you may never have to worry about growing old and decrepit like your poor madre, is that it? Do you think I asked for this? I would never! And I shall not grant this demented wish to either of you.” He started for the door but then rushed back.

  “Why this way? Why did you take me in and string me along when you could have done out with your horrendous request that first evening?”

  Rico shrugged and glared mischievously through strands of mahogany hair that had fallen over the side of his face. “I do so love the game.”

  Sebastian starred at the wicked duo. He did not know what to say, or how to take this startling revelation. He turned and stomped toward the foyer.

  “You will be back,” Rico called.

  “Never!”

  As he stepped outside, Sebastian heard Rico’s last words.

  “You will reconsider, Sebastian LeReaux!”

  Rico’s words stopped him dead in his tracks. They knew.

  Out of the darkness sprung a daring beast, a hunger-starved cat that pulled its withering body up along Sebastian’s leg, digging its icy claws through his breeches. With a calculated menace, Sebastian slowly reached down and gripped the beast by its neck. His fingers tightened and twisted until he could feel the delicate bones shatter.

  He tossed the corpse into a slush pile and turned back inside.

  They knew. They had known all along.

  No! They would never dare tell Angelique!

  Rico and Cat sat upon the rose divan, the king and his brazen mistress, waiting the evening’s entertainment—a foolish jester.

  Sebastian stopped before them, trying desperately to ignore the enticing scent of blood that rose up from behind him, and to control the anger that threatened to take him over to the divan and strangle the twins as he had the cat.

  “I beg of you,” he began in a carefully measured voice. “If you have a merciful bone in your body you will not tell Angelique of this.”

  Cat looked to Rico, the wicked glee shining brilliantly on her face. “Have you a merciful bone, my dear brother?”

  “Hmm.” Rico held his hand before him, turning it over in careful scrutiny. “No, I don’t believe so, lovely sister.”

  “Please, she must never know. This information would surely mean her death. She would never understand.”

  Rico’s chuckle was the devil’s burnt soul come to flesh. “Well then, my friend, I believe you have reconsidered.”

  Sebastian starred into the man’s eyes, feeling their utter coldness, and seeing the extreme delight. This wasn’t happening. Oh, mother, I cannot do this to you. My heart bleeds to protect you from my evil secret.

  He smoothed his palms down his frockcoat and pulled it together at his stomach as if to shield himself. But it was too late…

  “Very well…I…shall return in a few hours.”

  ***

  They had known all along, and had been ruthlessly plotting and planning since summer. They had befriended him with evil in their eyes, evil Sebastian had been too blind to see.

  Sebastian smashed his fist into the wall, the silver ring pinching his flesh painfully. He twisted it, but it wouldn’t come off.

  “Brother,” he laughed dully. “More like sucker.”

  How he hated the image that formed in his mind. He lay with his head cradled in Catrina’s lap while Rico kissed her, arousing his own carnal desires. She had been so sincere, so luscious when he had fallen into her bed.

  “Damn! She sleeps with her own brother! She would do anything to get what she wants. How could I have been such a fool?”

  He clutched his hands to his chest. They had offered their friendship. That was how he had taken as a fool. Friendship was the one thing he desired most in his empty life of blood-drinking and stalking the night. He was a monster! A beast whispered about around the hearth fires, causing children’s eyes to widen with fear, and grown men to shiver as they passed alone through dark passages.

  Ah, but there was no use in prolonging it.

  Sebastian left his apartment. There was one thing he had to do before going to the Palazzo Bellange.

  The Palazzo Gilianni was completely dark save for a few lights on the ground floor level. Most likely servants doing the wash, Sebastian figured. He slipped unobtrusively past a lighted window, the third floor ledge being barely wide enough for him to stand with his feet pressed together, but he had acquired an excellent sense of balance since becoming a blood drinker.

  As he had hoped, the last window with a light in it found her sitting with her back to him, though he was able to see the side of her face. Pressing his fingers above the cold wooden window frame, Sebastian looked down, seeing minute fragments from the ledge fall to the canal below. One wrong move and he would be swimming in icy water the color of beef broth.

  He was careful to stand to the side of the window, so should she turn around, he could quickly be out of her sight. He scanned the room, seeing indeed, her trunks were packed, though there were still three dresses hanging in the opened wardrobe. He knew them to be hers and the memories loosened his firm grimace and he felt warmth spread in his eyes.

  She was looking at something, a silver locket she cupped lovingly in her aging hands. Hands that had smoothed along his brow when, as a child, he lay in bed with the fever. Hands that had pulled and tugged at his fancy Sunday clothes until she was pleased with his appearance. Hands that had held tight to his whenever the storms came with their screaming thunder.

  Though he could not see it, Sebastian knew very well the miniature inside the locket. It was him, painted on his eighteenth birthday, one year before he had become a vampire. And he still looked exactly the same.

  Her head bowed suddenly and Sebastian pressed a hand to the window, watching as she clutched the locket to her heart. It seemed she might be sobbing.

  His balance faltered and his shoe slipped from the window ledge. Angelique spun around.

  Sebastian looked down over the rooftop, seeing the top of his mother’s hair. It was still as dark as his, though there were silver threads running through it, many more than when he had left her in Paris. He pressed his lips together to contain the plea he longed to speak. Angelique pulled the window shut and he heard the nudging slide of the lock against the sill.

  He lay back across the flat-topped roof, his legs
dangling over the side of the palazzo, and pressed his palms over his eyes.

  “Oh, mère, I love you so. I will carry your memory in my heart for an eternity.”

  ***

  “Very…well.”

  The room was a blur. Federico sat, the king of his domain in Belgian lace and blue damask, eyeing him amusedly as Sebastian struggled to remain upright.

  He had lain on the rooftop of Palazzo Gilianni for three hours. Even when icy rain had begun to fall across his lips and saturate the rich fibers of his clothes he could not bare to pull himself away from his mother’s presence. He’d staggered to the Bellange palazzo, his limbs frozen and stiff, not so much from the elements, but from the outpour of emotion that had depleted his soul of all energy.

  The cold was beginning to leave his body. The room was wretchedly warm thanks to a fire in the hearth and it was all Sebastian could do to keep from rushing for it to warm his frigid blood. Not that there was much left in his body.

  “I shall give you the damned life you seek…but I shall change…only one…of you.”

  Rico patted the cushion next to him but Sebastian remained standing.

  Swaying unsteadily, Sebastian looked up the stairs.

  “Yes, she is in her room. You will transform Catrina now. That is, if you can.” He stood and approached Sebastian curiously. “You’re a mess, my friend, what is it I can do for you so you suffer no more?”

  “Leave me be!” Sebastian veered away from Rico’s hand and swaggered toward the stairs. “I want nothing more from you save for your solemn promise of silence regarding my mother. Your sister shall have her eternal doom at my hands. After that I wash my hands of the two of you!” He gripped the banister and pulled his aching limbs upward.

  He passed the Melancholia and bashed his fist across the fragile drawing. “Angels,” he muttered. “They fear your venomous life, Rico Bellange,” he yelled down the stairs. “The devil take your soul tonight!”

  He rounded the top of the stairs and leant against the wall to catch his breath and dispel the dizziness that threatened to pull his body down. It occurred to him now he wasn’t entirely sure he could do this. He had transformed Francesco years ago, but at the time he had been strong and full of mortal blood.

  Catrina lay on her bed amid frothy cream lace and deep maroon silk. The window curtains were drawn and a single candle wavered on the wall across from the bed. She rested on her elbows, resembling a Carravaggio cherub from one of Rico’s collection. As Sebastian staggered to her bedside, she held out a hand but he slapped it away.

  “Don’t make this more miserable by pretending affection toward me. You will get what you have wanted.”

  “Bastian,” she whispered, seeming distraught, though he could see past the act. Her eyes held the truth, and deep within them lay the lust for the life, the everlasting youth he could provide her.

  “Lay back!” He shoved her into the feather pillows and let the smirk twist his lips upon seeing her real fright.

  “Ah, yes.” He opened his mouth wide, revealing snow-white fangs. “You are afraid of me now, Catrina.” She pushed against his chest, but he quickly shackled her arms to her sides. “This is what you have asked for! You mustn’t be a coward, pretty little bitch. Offer up that precious neck to Satan’s slave. Say good-bye to your mortal soul, and don’t ever believe I shall trust you or be your friend again.”

  Catrina opened her mouth to scream. Sebastian clamped his hand over her mouth, pushed her head to the side and locked onto the vanilla smooth flesh. He was determined to take his pleasures without worry of her theatric fears. Though he found his anger waned as her seductive scent filled his nose.

  She struggled initially, but when the swoon set in, Catrina slipped her hands behind Sebastian’s neck and pulled him close, moaning loudly as if reaching orgasm. La petite morte. Sebastian knew better. She was overacting. Badly. He closed his mind to her caresses and moans. He wanted only to put an end to his evil task.

  Within minutes his body was hot with Catrina’s life and he could feel the slow pace of her heart beneath his spread palm. For a second, the thought of finishing the job, of sucking her dry of her incestuous blood, flashed through Sebastian’s thoughts. But that would get him nowhere. There would be Rico to deal with then, and perhaps servants or other witnesses. No, it was too risky. And he was not a murderer.

  It had come time for Catrina to drink from him. Reluctantly, he bit into the vein that pulsed over his wrist and pressed it to her mouth. When she balked, he pushed away her struggling hands and locked his wrist against her lips.

  “Drink, damn you! If I must force you then I would rather leave you to die. Just be quick about it, I’ve had enough of your inane performance.”

  As his life was drawn out of his veins, the blood release being a powerful clutch upon his body, Sebastian shuddered. This would be the last time he took pleasure from Catrina Fiorenza Bellange.

  “Is it done?”

  Rico appeared beside the bed moments later. Two lackeys stood behind him, the same two Sebastian had seen guiding the coffin into the back of the carriage. They were both trying desperately not to look over their master’s shoulder.

  “Yes, it is done.” Sebastian rolled off Catrina and sat beside her on the bed, drained, yet vigorously renewed at the same time.

  “Here.” Rico tossed a leather purse onto Sebastian’s lap. “A gondola is waiting outside to provide your journey to the sea, where you will board a ship to leave the country.”

  “What?” Sebastian jiggled the money bag. “Leave the country? Whatever for?”

  “I think it best,” Rico said firmly. “Don’t you? After all...” He released the evil grin that had been building and stretched his arm before him to encompass the bed. “I have just discovered you in my sister’s bed attempting a bloody murder!”

  ”Murder?” Sebastian jumped to the floor.

  “Yes, and I’ve witnesses as you see.” Rico gestured to the dull-witted men behind him. Hardly viable witnesses, but both seeming to be of their senses as they stood shocked at the sight before them.

  Sebastian flung the leather pouch at Rico’s chest. “You bastard, you will not get away with this. I’ll…” Adrenaline coursed through his veins and he forgot his gentle nature. He opened his mouth wide to reveal his sharpened weapons. “I’ll kill your witnesses! Who’ll lie for you then?”

  “Oh hell.” Rico’s chuckling gesture rudely dismissed Sebastian’s threat. “I know you better than that, Signore de la Court.” He did not back down from the vampire who loomed over him. “You are not a killer. And you will be on your way if you value your life. I hear the guillotine is a most unfortunate demise.” Rico spoke to the two men behind him. “That will be all gentleman, I’ll speak with you later.”

  “But…but my…Angelique—”

  “Is gone, Signore. I’ve just received word she left Venice less than an hour ago. Bound for Paris, I believe.”

  An hour ago? She had left almost immediately after he had been there.

  Catrina gurgled and choked up a mass of thick blood onto her pillow. Rico rushed to her side. “What is wrong with her!”

  Sebastian retrieved the leather purse and tucked it inside his frock. “She’s a vampire now. It’s natural…I think. Be sure she drinks from a mortal soon or you’ll lose her.”

  He stomped out of the bedroom, fuming he hadn’t the nerve to rush through the house and find the two men who had witnessed his actions. But there was nothing he could do. Unless he wanted to rot in prison, or worse, lose his head. He had to keep his silence.

  Angelique had already left Venice.

  Damn! The bastard had planned this so thoroughly. Sebastian would not be surprised if Rico had had some dealings with Signore Gilianni’s death.

  “Farewell, my friend.” Federico appeared in the hallway outside Catrina’s doorway. “Perhaps we shall meet again some day. But for now, you understand that I must keep you away from Venice. It is best for you, and your mother. You
know how rumors fly.”

  Sebastian stopped in the hallway. He bit down hard on his lip in an attempt to control his rage.

  “How do I know you will not seek out Angelique?”

  Rico waving a dismissing hand through the air. “Why? You’ve already given us what we desire. I live for the game, Bastian, but I am not a vindictive man.”

  The game. Sebastian glared at Rico. How snide he was.

  “I shall promise to keep as far from your mother as possible. You have my word. Think of it as a thank you for the eternity of life and power you have granted my sister and I,” Rico added, so casually, as if Sebastian had merely brought them a boxed gift for a wedding or birthday, instead of working the curse of immortality on his sister. “Addio.”

  Sebastian turned slowly, feeling for the moment relief. Perhaps it would be good to get away from Venice and the Bellange twins after all. But the relief was only momentary.

  “I wish you only the hell I have endured thus far, Federico. You deserve that much and more. But I am sure it will come to one who has danced with the devil for most of his incestuous life.”

  He lowered his voice to a wicked whisper. “When you kiss your sister tonight, Federico, remember that it is my blood that rushes through her veins now. She is no longer completely yours.”

  Sebastian smiled and turned away

  Part Three

  Chapter Nineteen

  Spain, 13th century

  Esmarelda stepped back down into the bowels of the fire’s remains after retrieving the tiny red vial Paquita had once used for medicinal powders.

  Adriano’s ashes were mixed with the charred remains of his coffin. Her heart gulped for blood as she touched the soft grayness that was her husband’s remains. Esmarelda swallowed to dispel the uneasy lurk in her throat. She could not cry. Her tears had flowed freely through the night and day. When she had woke this evening she touched her face to find salted tears had dried in twisting trails across and down her cheeks. She was depleted of physical emotion.

  “Adriano, my love. I will carry your memory with me forever.”