Matteo’s blood had worked with the last of hers to heal the muscle and skin of her throat. Only a thin, jagged pink line circled her lovely neck. However, it did not bring back the girl’s spirit. The physical shell lay empty and Jenda was gone. Nothing within their power could return her to the world or to him. They could only hope her soul went to rest. No one could wish for more when immortality ended.
In a moment of stillness, Chenda bent on one knee and, with her eyes cast downward, she offered Matteo Augustine’s heart. A tribute to ancient vampire custom, he would drain the blood from the organ and take the last vestige of his enemy’s power into himself. Vampires of all cultures had observed the custom during the many wars that had been waged among their own kind and with humans.
Matteo’s black eyes burned crimson, his lips trembled with sobs as they peeled back to reveal his fangs, and his long dark haired hung matted with blood. He took the heart in his hands and roared a devastating cry before sinking his teeth into the organ. To drink the heart’s blood of the man who murdered his beloved was little condolence for an eternity of loss.
Matteo’s face, smeared with blood and tears, went slack as he lowered the meaty pulp that had been Augustine’s heart. Without warning he collapsed, his body falling next to Jenda’s. They lay together for a final moment, a bittersweet lover’s goodbye. The room fell silent as the others honored the fallen vampire princess and the death of an honorable love. They carried their bodies out together, one sleeping and one departed.
While the others focused on Matteo’s grief, no one saw Drew’s pain. No one saw his heart breaking and his mind turning inside out. He was a master at hiding his emotions and his intentions. Jenda was the only one who had ever caught him off guard and that was due to the powerful attraction he had felt for her. He chose to face her death in silence and strength, alone inside his own head.
Drew stood aloof while the other’s loaded Jenda, Anya, and Matteo into the black sedan. The idea began to form as he listened to the others talk. It was Celeste who first brought up Soborgne. “Did anyone see her?”
The others all responded negatively. Patrick, looking weary and drained, stepped up. “We should do a sweep of the house. If she can’t be located, we will have to return after sunset and start tracking her.”
Chenda busied herself with cleaning her blades. The swishing sound of the cloth on the steel matched her voice well. “She will have to go to ground soon. The approaching dawn will drain her strength. If she doesn’t find shelter before the first rays, the sun will deal with her.”
Drew sighed with relief when he realized no one had noticed Soborgne lying unconscious between the wall and the bed. Their focus had been on the bloodbath before them.
Tobias, his powers leached out by the battle, was forced to speak aloud. “If she lives, we must find her soon. The child still presents a serious problem. She remains an active catalyst as long as she runs free.”
Drew opened the trunk to place the book inside and found the gas cans. He checked his jean pockets for the shining silver lighter he always carried. “Celeste, I will take care of the cleanup and will search the house for Soborgne. The rest of you go home to the castle. Prepare the bodies and take care of Matteo. I will return shortly.”
Celeste thanked him with a weary nod. Her clothes were torn and stained red. Exhaustion and hunger strangled her energy. The Lady of Vajdahunyad looked as if she were a crazed and bloody street person. She wanted nothing more than to return to her home and grieve for her losses. No one thought to question one of their own. They were grateful not to have to face the carnage inside the villa.
Drew’s body ran on nothing but hate. His grief sucked everything else from him. The two five-gallon plastic jugs smelled repugnant as he carried them back through the woods. He didn’t care. He ignored the smell. He thought only of Jenda. He built a web around his mind that was constructed of stolen glimpses of her from across a room, the minutes they had spent chatting whenever the chanced to meet in the castle, and the freshest recollection from their time tracking the others.
Standing outside the villa, he pictured her as she had been the day she had first walked into his life with her head held high and a look of determination on her face. He thought of all the times he had watched her from afar and the beauty that was simply her. Her love and patience for all those around her had awed him. Her fierce thirst for blood had enticed him. Caring for her while she had been wounded made him feel a pride he had never known. Every moment in her presence had felt like a gift.
Watching her die, watching her come apart like a fragile doll, tore something loose inside him. It dissolved the only small blossom of hope and light that existed in his blackened heart. Since the change, since he had lost all those he loved, he had not felt alive. Jenda had made him feel life again and when she perished, he had died all over again.
Walking into the building he surveyed the blood slick walls and heaps of bodies. He told himself he was not to blame. Soborgne was the one who Jenda had fought so hard to save. Soborgne, with her evil core, was the reason the beautiful girl had died. Her love for her friend had brought Jenda to the godforsaken villa in the hills and her friend’s betrayal had killed her. He would make sure the Child of Darkness never again woke with the setting sun.
Drew started on the first floor, pouring the gas liberally on the pyramids of dead bodies and dismembered limbs. He poured a thin stream through the hallways and up the stairs as he tried to force down the bile that threatened to expel itself from his body. Opening the library door, he shook his head in disgust. The idea of so many ancient and wondrous volumes burning disgusted him.
Leaving the library behind, Drew walked the third-floor hall from beginning to end, saving Soborgne’s location for last. His thorough and controlled usage of the gasoline would ensure that the villa turned to ashes long before anyone noticed. Hidden deep within the Buddha Hills, the location was prime for acts of murder and terrorism.
Drew’s face crumbled and the broken sobs erupted from him without warning. Stepping over Augustine’s body near the entrance, he turned his eyes from the gaping hole in the dead vampire’s chest. Drawn to the place where Jenda’s blood stained the beige carpet to a dark rusty red, Drew pressed his hand into the wetness and inhaled the scent of his lost obsession.
From the corner of his eye, he spied the discarded syringe. He picked it up and examined the remaining amount of poison still in the vial. His maddened cries turned to manic laughter as he faced the interior of the room. In the foot of space beside the bed, Soborgne remained.
He covered the bedspread with the remaining gasoline before setting the canister near the foot of the bed. Reaching down, he lifted her body into his arms. Her body sagged lifeless against him and Drew felt a strange quivering of excitement. She stirred, to weak from the drugs and oncoming sun to fully fight her way to the surface of consciousness.
Her dark eyelashes fluttered and her full lips pouted into a frown. Drew admitted to himself, despite his hate for her, how attractive Soborgne’s features were. The girl was the type of beautiful that filled young, human girls with the power to crush boys like he had been. Their sharp nails were nothing compared to the razor edge of their tongues. Another reason to enjoy the destruction of the particular beauty that he held in his arms.
Drew gently placed her on the gasoline soaked bed and smoothed her hair from her face. The strong odor of the flammable liquid swam in the air, causing Soborgne to wrinkle her nose and open her eyes. She looked shocked and afraid to see the man who had struck her so viciously sitting above her like a concerned friend.
“Sh. Don’t worry. It’s going to be okay.” Drew’s voice was soothing and calm. “It’s going to be all right now. I’m going to make it all better. It’s all over now.”
A prisoner of her own body, she could not struggle. She blinked rapidly, trying to clear her vision as Drew’s face darkened. The strange Gothic vampire’s image melded and changed. When the mouth moved it was
still Drew’s voice but the face hovering above her belonged to Andras. “Go quietly to your death Soborgne and pray you do not pay for your sins against us all.”
Soborgne was suddenly filled with a strange longing. She could not speak, her body refused to obey even the simplest command. Yet, inside her head, she called out to Andras to come to her. She begged him to save her from the maddening horror that filled her. She wanted the demon more than she had ever wanted anything else in the world because he was the only one left that could save her.
Drew stood from the bed and flicked open the metal lighter case. He used his thumb to strike the wheel and ignite the flint inside. The tiny flame flickered to life. He watched it burn for a moment and then held the fire to the edge of the cover before he walked slowly to the door. He ignored the smoke and his vampire instincts as he watched the room slowly ignite.
The flames covered the bed and began to lick at Soborgne’s body. Drew wondered idly if she could feel the pain within her coma or if her death would be peaceful. He was surprised to realize he wished the latter. He would not want the girl to suffer even if she was pure evil and the cause of Jenda’s death.
The line of gasoline leading from the bed and out the doorway ignited, sending Drew fleeing the house. The sky outside turned to a purple haze and he knew he could never make it back to Vajdahunyad before the sun rose. He ran into the deepest part of the woods, panic pushing him beyond thought. Beneath the thickest cover of the trees, he fell to his knees and tunneled into the earth.
Drew created a hole big enough for him to lie comfortably in and sank himself down into the makeshift grave. He breathed deeply of the raw earth before kicking the opening with his boots. The dirt crumpled and peaceful, safe darkness set in. He felt the sunrise coming and his eyes grew heavy. He was not as old as the others but not quite as young as Soborgne. He could resist the call of daytime sleep but not for very long. His eyes shut and the last thing he heard was the loud beating of wings.
On the last vestiges of darkness, Andras followed Soborgne’s silent pleas. The demon feared he was too late. Traces of her life force lingered but they were weak. An image of a burning room flashed in his mind and he knew Soborgne was trying to show him where the filthy vampires had trapped her.
Diving from the sky he used his arms to protect his face as he shattered through the third-floor window. The oxygen fed the fire and the flames intensified. The room burned and the black smoke rolled in a thick cloud. Andras could have leveled the building with his anger when he saw his pale beauty laid out on the sacrificial bed, surrounded by death.
He snatched Soborgne from the burning covers. Her clothes had already begun to ignite and he tore them from her body and smothered the smoldering flesh with his large hands. He felt the flames begin to char his wings as he fought to rescue her. Out the window the day grew lighter and the sun prepared to peak on the horizon. He had no time to check over her injuries. Leaping out the window, he took to the skies once more. His wings beat with urgency as he headed for the portal back to his world.
16
Matteo dreamed of Jenda. She wore her red locks piled high on top of her head, with tiny ringlets framing her face. Her eyes filled with love as she wove her way through a crowded ballroom toward him. She was the image of beauty, dressed in an old-fashioned satin ball gown. The black fabric caught the lights around her and made her alabaster skin glow like a pearl among a sea of rocks.
Each time she drew near to him, she would open her mouth to speak but another man would whisk her away in his arms. Matteo fought to part the crowd but the throng of humans seemed to close tighter around him the more he struggled to reach her. No matter how hard he tried, he could not find his way through the mass of warm bodies. He could only watch from afar, as she twirled in the arms of another.
The torment seemed to go on forever, but with the end of each ballad, Jenda managed to come nearer. Matteo’s jealousy soared to impossible heights. Each new partner held her tighter and dipped their heads too close to hers. Matteo strained vehemently to get to his wife. He screamed her name but his voice fell unnoticed by the revelers.
The music ended once again and Jenda reached out to him before another man whisked her away. Their fingers had brushed for an instant and then she was whirling in a blur of black silk across the floor. Matteo found something oddly familiar about the man whose hand rested to low on her tiny waist and held her close enough that her breasts brushed his chest as they moved to the music.
Matteo peered through the crowd, trying to see the stranger better. He cursed the people, he cursed the man, and he cursed himself for not being strong enough to get through. Jenda’s newest dance partner whispered something into her ear and she tossed her head back in laughter. The man bent to kiss her exposed throat before he turned to lock eyes with Matteo. Augustine smiled and Matteo filled with rage. He screamed out her name and she turned, putting her back to the enemy.
The falcata appeared in Augustine’s hand as he wrapped his arm around Jenda’s waist and pulled her back into his chest. The smile on his face was pure menace as he held the deadly blade to her throat. Matteo fought harder against the throng of bodies. He made some headway but the process was maddening slow. He continued to scream for her to run but Jenda only smiled sweetly at him as if she didn’t hear.
Behind her, Augustine shifted, his features melded in a swirl of darkness. Black wings sprouted from his back. Jenda seemed to sense something was wrong. Her body stiffened and her eyes faded from green, to black, and finally to red. Her body trembled with fear as she reached out for Matteo.
Her voice finally lifted above the den of music and voices. “Help me, Matteo. Save me. The book will—”
Augustine’s hand changed. Long black talons replaced the knife. Before Jenda could finish, the claws pierced her flesh and slowly ripped their way across the breadth of her neck. The blood spilled down her bosom as she died in silence and fear. Matteo broke through the mass of bodies at last. When he reached Jenda, it was too late.
His eyes sprang open, full of bloody tears. He reached out to pull her to him, to hold her and reassure himself that she was okay. His grasping hand found no one there to hold. Nothing but the chill of empty sheets lay next to him. His mournful sobs rocked his body. He wanted to believe it had all been a bad dream. He wanted to pretend she was out walking in the sun by the lake. His memory would not let him. Even in sleep he was haunted by her death.
A gentle hand patted his and Matteo jerked with surprise. Agi sat in a chair near the bed, her eyes red and swollen from crying. She didn’t speak, there was no need. Her presence was enough. To have someone else left who Jenda had loved reminded him that he was not alone in his despair. Agi understood the huge loss they were dealt.
To show his appreciation, Matteo gently squeezed her fragile human fingers. She smiled through her tears and they sat quietly together for a while. At last, Agi spoke. “Jenda had a gift, Matteo. She loved so many because she could feel their love. Her power to recognize others’ emotions made her special. She wouldn’t want this sadness for us. It would hurt her too much.”
Matteo’s eyes pleaded with the human girl to take the pain away. “Agi, how can I not hurt? All I want is to be with her. I want to hold her in life, in death, in eternity.”
Shocked by his helplessness, Agi tried to offer the words she knew Jenda would have said to someone wounded so badly. “You mustn’t talk that way. You cannot go into that darkness, Matteo. It’s not how Jenda would want things. She loved you so much, she would want you to live. You must live for the both of you.”
“I don’t know how to go on without her. Agi, she has been all I wanted for so long.” He broke into sobs and Agi moved to wrap her arms around him. She held him until he quieted, her own tears falling silently on her round cheeks.
When he calmed, she insisted he shower and dress. At first, he refused. All he wanted was to lie in the bed and sleep. He hoped that he would dream of her again. Even the nightmares were
better than a reality without her.
Agi nagged him until he fled into the bathroom just to escape her. She was wrong about it making him feel better. The streams of hot water washed down his face and hid the tears that never ceased. He leaned against the marble tiles and spoke to Jenda. He begged her to come back to him somehow. Even as he said the words, guilt washed over him. He had caused her so much pain and loss already. Wishing for her spirit to be at unrest would be the worst transgression of them all.
Matteo stepped back into the room, looking like a shadow of himself. His robe hung loosely, carelessly tied, and his hair hung in long wet tangles. Agi sat in the same chair as before, a small table in front of her. “Come have a drink, it will help.”
His first instinct was to rage at her that nothing would help. Nothing short of having Jenda back would make it right. Instead, he bit his tongue. He couldn’t blame Agi for trying to help him. Helping others came naturally to the sweet little human. She had certainly risked her life and his ire to help Jenda.
“Little Mother Agi. You are so kind. I will drink because you asked.” The tears swelled up in his eyes once more and a hard knot of pain lodged in his throat. “Because of all that you did for Jenda, I will honor her by doing as you say.”
Agi patted the bed and waited until he was comfortably sipping the warmed blood. “Matteo, would you mind if I named the baby after her? I wouldn’t do so without your permission.”
Matteo’s lips curved into a small smile, a slight imitation of joy was all he could muster. “Agi, I think she would have loved that. I would be honored.”
Agi’s happiness was genuine. “Then we shall do so in honor of our girl. We will call the baby Jenda for a girl and Jenden for a boy.”
Settling back into a thoughtful calm, they spent a good portion of the afternoon comforting each other by simply being near. They spoke occasionally and cried often. As night began to fall, Matteo refused to go to the feeding rooms. He promised Agi, before she left him, that he would eat from the heated bags, but he couldn’t bring himself to be near anyone.
Requiem of Humanity Page 52