***
“You miss him.”
“I never stop thinking about Sebastian. I’ve been gone too long. I need to go home. I need him. And I haven’t had contact with my brother.” Scarlet touched the red vial Esmarelda had laid on the counter. “I don’t know how you did it. You must have been so alone without Adriano. Do you ever wish you could turn back time?”
“Always. But time works wonders on pain. I’ve had love affairs since.”
“Really?”
“Women do have their needs. I was never one to consider a nun’s life.”
With a gentle laugh, Scarlet thought of Sebastian’s untold centuries. “He loved others, too.”
“But never in quite the same way as he loves you.”
“I know.”
“You are very lucky, Scarlet. Sebastian is the proverbial knight in shining armor. He would live and die for you. I know this by the things you have told me. Adriano was the same, fiercely proud and protective.”
“I think it’s time I went home.”
***
“So what do you think he’ll say?”
Scarlet smoothed back a strand of hair from her eyelash and joined Esmarelda at the iron gate that surrounded the Bellange mansion. It had been months. All anger toward Vince had left. She felt only compassion and a certain sorrow regarding his stumble into darkness.
“I don’t know,” Esmarelda said. “Though I’ve followed my family for centuries, I’ve only watched Vince from afar. You know him. Do you think he’ll welcome me?”
“I hope so,” Scarlet said with a gesture toward the top of the gate. One leap propelled her to the other side, followed by Esmarelda. Dead branches and crisp brown leaves crackled beneath their feet. Lingering smoke from a neighboring chimney tainted the air.
Blake met them at the door. Scarlet expressed her sympathies to Rico when Blake told them of Catrina’s funeral held months ago.
“He is coming out of his depression,” Blake said on a sigh. “But he’s still very reclusive. Vince is in the studio. You know the way?”
“Thank you.” Scarlet was aware Blake’s gaze lingered on Esmarelda before he disappeared up the stairs and into the shadows. “It’s odd the Lyons family appeared to have passed down the stories and family history through the ages, but stopped quite abruptly when it got to Vince’s father.”
“Not really.” Esmarelda’s hand brushed Scarlet’s as she led her partner down the dark hallway to the studio. Not a single lit candle, nor light. “Alexandre Lyons III is what you might call the black sheep of the family. Not the sort of vampire even I would care to meet in a dark alleyway. He has no care for family history or legacy. His mind is tainted with dark evils. He fell in with a very bad crowd after his transformation.”
“You think you can rescue Vince from the dark control his father’s blood has over him?”
“I hope so,” Esmarelda stopped behind Scarlet at the door. “But I won’t push. Vince is his own man. I will be satisfied with his acceptance of me as family.”
Since arriving back in L.A., Scarlet had been on edge, her nerves jittery and her adrenaline rushing. It was a painful process this prolonging her reunion with Sebastian. But she had promised she’d make introductions between Esmarelda and Vince. Smooth the path between the two of them.
Soon, she thought to herself. You will be in his arms again.
Vince sat beneath the glow of a single candle, his hair cresting the bottom of his black T-shirt. He walked two fingers across the piano keys, a simple tune. The Mucha lithograph of Catrina had been removed.
Scarlet stepped inside the studio. “Vince?”
His fingers left the keys. Without turning, Vince clasped his hands on top of the grand and lowered his forehead into them. “Scarlet, I thought I’d never see you again. I was cruel. I should have never—” He glanced around, his eyes falling on the woman standing beside Scarlet.
“I want to introduce you to someone,” Scarlet said as she reached behind her and felt Esmarelda’s solid grip in her hand.
Vince stood and stepped over the piano bench. Gray circles shadowed beneath his eyes. His white silk shirt was wrinkled and the cuffs were unbottoned. He tried a smile, and it warmed Scarlet to her bones to see the familiar charm return.
“This is Esmarelda de Trastamara, Vince. Esmarelda, Vince Lyons.”
Vince took Esmarelda’s hand, but when it appeared he was going to question who she was, he suddenly fell to his knees.
“Oh, my God,” he gasped.
Scarlet looked to Esmarelda, who smoothed her free hand over Vince’s hair.
“Who are you?” he asked. “Why do I feel as if…as if…” He looked up into Esmarelda’s eyes, searching, pining for the answers. “It’s like the floor has been pulled out from under my feet, and I’m falling. But I don’t mind. It’s so good, and enormous this feeling.”
“You remember I told you about Esmarelda,” Scarlet said. “In the diaries?”
His memory ignited, Vince’s eyes grew wide.
“Please stand,” Esmarelda said with a gentle pull to Vince’s hands. “I am the mother of your bloodline, Vince Lyons.”
“Yes. I can feel it when I touch you. I don’t know what to say. Why are you here? Why me? You’ve lived for so long.”
“I think you need me,” Esmarelda offered. “Family.”
“Yes, family,” Vince whispered. Awestruck, he simply stood there, his tearing gaze fixed to his and Esmarelda’s hands.
Family.
Scarlet stepped away from the twosome. Her family awaited her. She had been gone far too long. It was time to go home.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
The air inside the castle was heavy and dusty. All the windows had been sealed up against the rain, the rose bushes out back trimmed to skeletons for the winter. Scarlet padded softly over the field stone floor.
She now sought solace, comfort, caring arms to pour out her soul to. Her blood master, her soul mate, Sebastian DelaCourte could fill the missing hole that had hollowed her heart since arriving back in Los Angeles.
Anthony sat plopped on the divan across from the television. Plopped putting it lightly, it looked more as if he’d been roosting for weeks in the same spot. Dust covered everything except the television screen.
“My, but we’ve become lax in our household duties.”
“Bloody Christ!” The remote control went flying and the scattered newspapers on the divan cushions crinkled beneath Anthony’s legs. “Sc-Scarlet?” He swiped a hand across his sweaty brow. “You’re back! You’ve been gone for almost three months. Sebastian has completely given up on you, and now here you just appear, out of the blue.”
“What did you mean when you said Sebastian has given up on me?”
“He’s been waiting for you, Scarlet. But then…” Seeming a bit choked up, Anthony crushed haphazard spikes of his hair beneath his palm. “He’s gone under.”
“Sebastian?”
“Yes. You’ve been gone for so long. He just gave up, leaving his music and the world behind. Your leave crushed him. You can’t imagine how badly he was hurt.”
“How long has he been in hibernation?”
“Months. After you left he tried proudly to go on as if nothing had ever happened. Though I could tell he was torn apart inside. He went to a few recording sessions, then one day he told me to start taking messages, tell his manager he was on vacation. When you left, you took Sebastian’s soul with you.
“He didn’t want to interfere with your life. You made it quite clear to him you did not love him and you wanted never to see him again so…”
“But I do love...” she whispered. “I never told him I didn’t—”
She had wanted the answers so badly, needed them, that she hadn’t even thought how her absence would impact Sebastian. The vampire life had been so new to her, she had no idea what to think of the smothering, obsessive love he had given her
She had stayed with Esmarelda longer than she had planned. But
things had been so perfect. And now all her questions were answered. Answers she would share with Sebastian.
“I should have written.”
“Yes.”
“Oh, Anthony.” She sunk onto the couch, crushing newspapers and empty potato chip bags under her thigh.
“Sorry,” Anthony bent to pick up the mess. “I’ve been on a vacation of sorts myself.”
“It’s all right. So much has happened in my absence.” She blew out a hefty sigh. “But I cannot change the past. I must look to the future.”
“Now that you’re back, you can release Sebastian from his torture.” Conviction gleamed in Anthony’s darting eyes. “Scarlet, you must…kiss the sleeping beauty awake, if you will.”
“Yes, I will. If I had known…” She shoved a hand through her hair. In all her imaginings she never thought her absence would affect Sebastian so harshly. She thought him much stronger. “I never meant to hurt him.”
But of course his strength would wane when his soul mate was not by his side. Scarlet had had Esmarelda as her strength. She had been too busy thinking only of herself. How cruel she had been!
“Where is he, Anthony?”
“In the dungeon.”
***
The hallway was dark save for a gossamer slash of moonlight that hazed across the stone floor near the stairs. A candelabra clung to the cold stone as Scarlet took the first curving step. Spider webs traced the white wax, bearding a gargoyle’s chin and giving the grotesque figure eerie wings of lace.
“Guess we should have given Anthony a vacation a long time ago,” she muttered as she pierced the thick webbing with her finger.
Once on the main floor she passed by the study, then stopped. Using the telepathic skills Esmarelda had taught her, she focused on the candelabra she knew sat perched in the darkness upon the shiny grand piano. The candles took flame, four of them, one after another.
She ran her fingers through the dust, tracing a curlicue upon the surface of the piano. The baroque King Louis XIV furniture seemed to have been used, though the windows bore a coating of dusty dirt and the music laying open on the piano held more powdery dust.
Scarlet sat before the ivories and blew gently, leaning back to avoid choking as the dust took flight. She scanned the sheet music. Sebastian’s handwriting. A new song she’d never heard before. With lyrics. A surprise. Sebastian’s music was always instrumental.
She read the title scribbled in Sebastian’s elegant script across the top of the page. “Forever Scarlet.”
“For me,” she whispered and touched the faded music.
Hurried scrawls flowed silently down the page. The nights are an empty space…my heart bleeds for your touch…the memory of your smile, seems like yesterday…Since you’re gone I’m not the man I used to be…she lives in my heart, she is my soul, she is Forever Scarlet.
Scarlet swallowed, and closed her eyes. He had never loved another, never betrayed her…as she had him.
How could you let me believe Vince had made love to you?
Sebastian’s only sin had been loving her too deeply, cherishing her too tightly. If anyone had loved blindly, it had been Sebastian. And in turn she had repaid his devotion with betrayal.
She sniffed away the beginnings of tears and stepped from the piano. The castle walls enveloped her in a cold silence that threateed with its hollow emptiness, and at the same time, offered a peaceful invitation, a refuge from the rush of the real world on the other side of the stone walls, a sanctuary whose echoes and whispering breezes coaxed her further.
Her bedroom remained unchanged. The rose motif window of crimson and forest green glass had been cracked open to allow a gentle wisp of wind entrance to curl about the chiffon billows that trailed from the bed canopy down each of the four mahogany posts. The bed quilt was unwrinkled and pristine.
He has not slept here when I was gone.
The row of cut glass perfume bottles were dusted and tidy on the vanity. Her few mortal possessions that had been saved, though she hadn’t acquired much since she had become immortal. But there was one thing out of place.
The closet door hung open. A curve of red ruffle lay in sight on the stone floor. Scarlet knelt in the darkness of her closet and pulled the heavy ruffles into a bundle against her face. A faint whisper of her rose perfume was detectable. And something else…
She could sense it as she could also sense the very minute pulse of his heartbeat shrouded in the depths of the castle walls. It beat lethargically, perhaps once every half minute, but there was a stronger vibration that ran through the walls, permeating the stone and her flesh.
His sadness.
It hovered in the air like a black fog. And it laced within the fibers of the dress, pain planted like seeds from his teardrops.
Scarlet winced and pulled the dress away from her face, her own tears now weaving into the fibers and reigniting Sebastian’s dried pain.
“Forgive me,” she whispered. “I should have never left as I did. But I know now it was the right thing to do.”
She stood and shook the dress until the rows of crimson ruffles curled at her boots. The look on his face as she’d twirled about in these ruffles made her smile. I give you the moon and the stars. He’d always promised her the moon and the stars. And she had always had them. But now she wanted more.
“I’m going to make things right. My love for you is no longer hampered by confusion and uncertainty. I know who I am. And I know what you can become. I’ve been without you for too long, my love.”
The candlewick took to flame reluctantly, but when it finally acquiesced to Scarlet’s silent command the room glowed.
She smoothed her hands over her hips where the snug fitting bata de cola met up with rows of frothy crimson and floated down to her heels in an ocean of bloody waves.
Her insides fluttered with anticipation, a minute shiver traveling from shoulders to toes. Like the anticipation of a lover’s sudden kiss placed on the nape of her neck as she lie resting, or the desire for Sebastian’s fingers to dance across her breasts, she delighted in the thrill.
And too, the sadness beckoned.
Scarlet curled her fingers around the slim black taper and walked to the wall where the stones swung inward, opening to a spiraling secret passageway. These narrow twisting steps had always troubled her before, though now she held her head high and descended them with ease. Perhaps she floated. It didn’t matter. Esmeralda had shown her her inner confidence and soul. There was no obstacle she could not overcome now. She had no fear to slip or fall. Nor did she need someone to be there to catch her should she fall. Her life was her own.
I am Scarlet. A vampire.
No regrets.
And even knowing she needed no others she also knew what was missing.
Sebastian DelaCourte.
Dried leaves crackled at the touch of her footsteps as she descended into the dark hallway. It had never been used for the imprisonment of anyone but rather than basement, dungeon seemed the appropriate word. It housed six small rooms with tiny slit windows near the outside walls, though each room was empty save for the one in which she and Sebastian kept their coffins.
To her right was the one room Sebastian called his sanctuary. The walls were lined with candelabra and a Persian carpet rested neatly in the center of the room. Nothing else, except the massive network of spider webs that shrouded the candles. He would come to this room for quiet and inner-strength. A place to relax and unwind before a concert. A place to fortify his mind with solitude before beginning to compose a new piece.
Scarlet pulled a clump of sticky gray spider webbing from one of the candles and touched her candle to its wick. She took her time, fighting the incessant urge to command them all to light and rush down the hall to her lover’s arms. Instead she used the emotional pain to pace herself, to prolong the desire.
“I need you so badly, Sebastian. But we must do things right.”
After lighting dozens of tapers, she placed her candle in a
n empty sconce and left the room. A golden aura burst from the doorway, lighting her passage to the far door.
It did not move. It was bolted from the inside with a four inch square piece of oak. A measure that they used only if both were inside.
Strange…
Did he not think she would return?
Her fingers curled around the cool iron doorpull. Scarlet closed her eyes and bowed her head. Listening. Another pulse. His heart beat. So very slow. Another sudden pulse. His body sensed her presence.
Envisioning the thick bar in her mind, Scarlet heard the heavy wood slither across the door as she commanded it to slide from the iron slots. Already her skills were coming in handy.
There was just enough light so she could see her hands as gray outlines only against the cold surface of the ebony coffin. Her heart pulsed rapidly as the intensity of Sebastian’s heartbeats increased.
Unable to prolong the reunion for another second, Scarlet pushed the coffin lid up and pressed her hands to the cold black silk that covered his chest. His scent curled about her nose and entered her head in a twisting wave of spice.
Her hands as her eyes, Scarlet felt along her lover’s body. Frozen in a vampire’s sleep, his blood the only movement beneath her flesh, he was aware of her presence…for it was only his body, not his mind, which had been trapped in the dark cove of hibernation.
Scarlet’s fingers slipped deep into the coolness of his hair. Shivers reminiscent of their lovemaking traveled her body in swift journey. She drew her fingers up, touching her lips to the tips of dark gypsy hair that grew to her lover’s elbows.
Sucking in her bottom lip, Scarlet closed her eyes to the minute ache as her canines descended, puncturing her flesh. As the blood came she pressed her lips to her lover’s mouth, moving gently against him, parting his mouth so her life could stain his tongue and throat.
His flesh grew warm against her cheek. His heartbeat, over which her hand rested, pumped faster, surpassing the speed of a mortal’s resting heartbeat. His desire had ignited.
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