“You changed him…” Marianne said, stepping closer. “You chose him. Why him? Why not me when I needed it the most?”
Ivan winced. “I cannot believe I’m hearing this,” he mused, genuinely surprised. Rising from his seat, he went to meet her.
“I have no time for this, Marianne.” A quick bat of his hand killed the conversation as he trudged to the staircase. “My mind is burdened with such worries as you cannot possibly imagine.”
“You should be worried,” she said. “Someday you’ll meet a fair rival, and you’ll suffer more pain than you’ve ever caused us both…” Her voice, low and serene sent shivers down Phillip’s spine.
Ivan stopped at the staircase, clenching his hand around the handrail. When he turned, his face flared with fury. His eyes lit with an unnatural gleam.
“You think you know pain?” he said. “I’ll show you true pain!” With a feral snarl, Ivan lunged at her quick as lightning, his hand clawing at her neck, ready to crush it.
Marianne fled from his attack. Fearing for her life, she screamed. Phillip rushed to stop this madness and stood between them, holding back his maker with all his strength.
“Ivan, stop!” he roared. “Marianne, you’ve gone too far this time!”
“Do you see her now for what she truly is?” Ivan hissed. “A vampire brat! But I can fix that in a minute… Get. Out. Of. My. Way.”
“Gah!” Phillip pressed his chest, pushing him back against the wall. “Don’t do this!” He knew his maker’s unspoken intentions too well not to prevent him from executing them.
“I’m not afraid of you!” Marianne loomed above Phillip’s shoulder.
“You insolent ingrate…” Ivan muttered. “Do not forget for a second that I brought you to this house to live the end of your days in comfort. I should have left you wandering the streets to die in one of those stinking alleys… You should be dead!”
“I am dead!” her voice breaking, tears rolling down her cheeks.
“This has to stop!” Phillip said, embracing her with one arm, the other still pressing Ivan’s chest. “We can’t go down that road again… Can the three of us live like this?”
“The four of us,” a voice intervened. “You mean, Can the four of us live like this.” A stray beam of moonlight filtered through the windows and landed on his dark eyes.
“I think we can,” he added. “In fact, I’m beginning to like my new family.” His hands landed on Phillip’s and Ivan’s shoulders. “What’s life without a little excitement, n’est-ce pas?”
Ivan’s expression softened. “Antoine,” he said with a sigh. “Welcome to the family. Marianne’s a handful as you can see… I’d stay out of her way if I were you.” He walked to the staircase. “You have been warned!” waving his hand in midair, never turning back.
Ivan landed on the chaise longue in his bedroom’s parlor. Whatever drama had taken place downstairs meant little to him. The real hell brewed inside his head.
Alisa in Jiao Long’s claws… It was too disturbing a thought. His mind whirred incessantly trying to figure out his next step. Should he confront Jiao? He had the entire coven on his side, it wouldn’t work.
“Oh, Alisa…” heaving a heavy sigh. “You’ve caused me more trouble in this lifetime than when we were brother and sister.”
He stared at the golden locket in his hand—the one he’d snatched from that devil, Jiao Long. Ivan opened it, revealing a miniature portrait inside. Her deep blue eyes gazed at him from the other side of the tiny painting.
“I’m not sure I want to see you. In fact, there’s nothing I’d prefer more than to never lay eyes on you again. But it seems you’re determined to torture my soul even in this century… Haven’t you had enough?”
Ivan closed the reliquary and left it on the coffee table.
Antoine’s awakening into Darkness had freed his mind from her, if only for a while. Killing Antoine's friends had allowed him to unleash his anger against Jiao Long. Three lives in exchange of your eternal life, Ivan had told him days ago… Shrewd of him to bring not his friends but the bullies who tormented his brief months of school when he arrived at the city. But the thrill of the Kill washed away too soon. And Alisa’s face came back to torture him with precious dark memories forever engraved in his black heart.
The soiree hadn’t helped either.
“A masquerade,” he huffed. “What was I thinking?” It only delivered him back to Venice, back to the days of the Carnival.
“I can’t go on like this. Finding you is the only way to be free from you.”
Cassandra was the key out of this mess. He had to see her, soon. What was that? Knocking on his door? Who in this entire household would be polite enough to care for such a thing?
“Come in,” he said.
It didn’t surprise him to see Phillip walk into the room. So posh and well-mannered. Ivan cared little for manners, they were so… mortal.
His fledgling stood on the parlor’s black and gold Kashan rug. What do you want, Phillip Blackwell? “I have no interest in going for Round Two if that’s why you’re here,” Ivan said.
Phillip winced. His reaction gained him points for cuteness. Ivan half-smiled. “I’m listening.”
“I want you to know that no matter what my feelings are regarding Antoine’s awakening, I stand by you.” He paused. “You have enough on your plate right now.”
Ivan raised his brow. “You never cease to amaze me, Phillip Blackwell. Aren’t you the perfect gentleman?” He couldn’t help being cynical. Everything in his life was tainted by Alisa’s touch. “Forgive me. I appreciate your empathy. I truly do.”
“I’ll leave you to your rest then.” As he turned to the door, Phillip stopped. “I’ve been meaning to tell you. The singing, the visions… they’re gone. I didn’t realize it until today. Perhaps it’s a good sign.”
Ivan bit his lower lip. “I fear quite the opposite.” He sighed. “Oh, well… I suppose you should hear it from me.”
“Hear what exactly?” Phillip tilted his head and closed the door.
“I know who’s taken Alisa prisoner.”
“How would you—?”
“It was Jiao Long. He had the nerve to show up here tonight.” Ivan pursed his lips. “Be careful with him, I know he’s a friend of yours.”
“He’s not my friend, but he’s not my enemy either… This is all too disturbing.” He frowned. “Tell me everything there is to know, Ivan.”
“All right,” he said under his breath. “But you better sit down… This could take a while.”
Elizabeth
The day she walked out of the hospital was the day Elizabeth decided to turn her life around. Experiencing such nearness to death had changed her in ways she had barely begun to discover.
The very next day she quit her job at the car dealership. She pursued one of her most cherished dreams—opening a book cafe in Little Italy. It took most of her savings, but she opened the shop within a few weeks of her release.
It came unexpectedly that the small coffee shop became an overnight success. Part of her wished to share her good fortune with Phillip, but she hadn’t heard a thing from him ever since the accident. Sometimes she fancied contacting him through the dealership’s records. But day to day life got in the way of those plans.
The coffee shop was packed as usual. Customers filled every seat, even the ones on the sidewalk. They read books and checked their cell phones’ screens. Meanwhile, Elizabeth took orders in a hurry and passed them behind the counter.
The coffee machine reveled and steamed, pouring its inviting aroma in the shop. A few faces in the crowd were familiar, regular customers. But most were new, locals and tourists alike.
It was on a Saturday evening that amongst those faces, she’d seen his. She would never forget that face for as long as she lived.
He stood on the other side of the shop's window, motionless as the jostling throngs moved along the sidewalk, in and out of the coffee house. His piercing green eyes sta
red at her intently...
“Extra hot, dry cappuccino, please. Two pumps,” a voice said.
“Huh?” Elizabeth blinked. “I’m sorry. I missed that.” One more look at the sidewalk… No sign of him.
Seeing him had wakened a series of questions she’d pushed to the back of her mind after the accident. If the man outside of her shop had been real, that meant her memories weren’t a delusion, not part of the blunt head trauma.
This man had curled up to her bedside and done something amazing—he’d saved her life. He had cut his wrist and given her his blood as a remedy to her fatal condition. And she had swallowed that dark drink, and it had soothed the pain and quickened her body’s healing.
It was around that time that her search had begun. Blood Rituals in Folklore, Histoire des Spectres Malfaisants, Egyptian Mythology, Eastern European Lore… Cover to cover, she had read every book. They all led to the same—vampires.
Foolishness. Not real.
“Brenda, could you step in? I’m taking a break.” Elizabeth sighed.
She got out of the counter. Removing her apron on the way to her office the most interesting conversation rung in her ears.
“Never like The Devil’s Coven… There’s no turning back once you’ve gone midblood. Those vampires are crazy selfish…”
It was a teenaged boy, around eighteen. And his friend while a bit older was no more than twenty.
“Hello boys,” she said, leaning against the table. “How about some apple pie for your coffee? On the house.” Elizabeth, what are you doing? But she knew the answer. It was time to do a little fieldwork, and these guys seemed like a good starting point for her investigation.
Elizabeth stared at her reflection in a shop’s window. “Oh, well…” she sighed. It had been ages since she’d gone to a nightclub, fingers crossed she’d gotten the outfit right. A tight little black dress would have to do. One could never go wrong wearing black, right?
Across the street stood the old Victorian house. She’d gotten the address from the teens at her coffee shop, and it looked like they’d told the truth. A group of seven or eight teenagers came out of the house. They shook the security guard’s hand —a tall man, standing by the entrance. One of them even hugged him between laughs. They lit up some cigarettes and smoked on the front porch.
A line of people dressed in dark garments waited to be cleared by the guard. Those guys were called bouncers back in the day, were they still called that?
Elizabeth wasted no time. She got in line, her heart racing wildly with each step that drove her closer to the door. She stood a few feet away from the entrance. The guard did not check the women’s purses or the men’s jackets, but their wrists and necks, searching for tattoos.
“You know better than that,” the guard told the woman ahead of her. “No Dragon, no entry.”
Holy shit! I’m next… What the hell am I going to do?
As luck would have it, the group hanging around the porch finished their cigarettes. Elizabeth moved out of the line and stuck to them, moving along until she crossed that damned entrance.
I’m in.
Dark music, dim lights, candles dripping warm wax onto vintage furniture… One look at them and she knew they were not human. They seduced their victims as they danced. They were beautiful sensual creatures like the one she’d met at the hospital.
“To whom do you belong?” The voice spoke inside her head.
Elizabeth found no one near save a tanned-skin woman fixing her sparkling brown eyes on her.
“Are you alone? Who owns you?” The voice spoke again. The woman held her stare, but her lips only moved to reveal a hint of her keen fangs.
What the hell am I doing here? Why would I walk into San Francisco’s vampire epicenter?
With her heart pumping harder and faster, Elizabeth stepped back, enough to reach the club’s entrance on a run. The woman’s bright eyes gleamed with an unnatural fire as she drew closer.
One more step back. Elizabeth stumbled against another one of those creatures, a vampire. Her breathing raced. Two others closed in on her from each side.
Oh, shit. This is the end.
She closed her eyes.
Inches away from her ear, a woman screeched with pain. Strong arms closed a tight grip around her waist and dragged her away. Elizabeth shuddered, not because of the freezing wind, but because her life was on the line. The second her feet touched the ground, she opened her eyes.
Wearing a wry grin, he stood before her, a little upset as he wiped a blood stain off his suit’s jacket.
“It’s you,” Elizabeth said, barely believing her eyes as they met his six-feet-tall well built figure. He wore a dark charcoal bespoke suit and white disheveled shirt. He pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and cleaned with it his bloodied hands. Lustrous black hair and fierce green eyes... He's beautiful.
The vampire turned to her. “Well, I try to look my best,” he said. Had he listened to her thoughts? “I get all my suits at Savile Row, you know… This one is ruined,” looking down, shaking his head.
“Sorry about that...” she mused.
He took a step closer. His eyes fixed on Elizabeth’s, his pupils widening as he spoke: “You will go home and forget everything you know about blood drinkers.”
“So, it’s true… You’re a vampire!” She took her hands to her gaping mouth.
“Wait… What?” The vampire flinched in disbelief. “I told you to forget everything. Why isn’t this working?” he mused, noticeably crossed.
“It didn’t work at the hospital either,” she said. “I remember everything. You saved my life. Thank you, by the way.”
He scowled. “Come on… Let’s get you out of here before they track us.” He grabbed her hand and pulled her inside a red Ferrari.
The keys clinked as Elizabeth’s trembling hand opened the shop’s door. She was not alone. The vampire followed her inside and sat on a chair as if he were an ordinary customer. Something troubled his whirring mind. He pursed his lips before speaking.
“You mustn’t venture into such places anymore,” he said. “I won’t always be around to save you, Elizabeth.”
She turned on the coffee pot. “You left me little choice—always stopping by, but never coming in.”
The vampire smiled. Amused, was he?
“What’s your name?” She poured some coffee into a mug and went to the table. “Why did you save me that day at the hospital, and again just now?”
“How come you’re immune to my preternatural tricks?” he mused with a frown. “Tell me, has something else changed in you since—?”
“Since we met?” Elizabeth held her breath for a second. “Are you saying that your blood could be the reason for my immunity against your suggestion ability?” with widening eyes. “And perhaps that’s why I was able to listen to her thoughts!” Finally, some sense out of all this chaos.
“What do you mean? Whose thoughts did you read?” The vampire leaned closer, steepling his fingers over the table.
“The woman at the club, the one who tried to kill me.” Had she actually just said that? Mind control, vampires, and unnatural powers was a tad too much for one evening. Was this for real?
“It’s very real, Elizabeth. And mind you, she was no ordinary woman. She was a vampire, and she would have killed you had I not been there to shield you from her vicious appetite.” Pointing his finger down, he tapped at the table.
“Have you been following me since I got out of the hospital?” Otherwise, how could he have known where to find her?
The vampire laughed under his breath. “How shrewd,” he mused. “Oh, well… Since it seems I can never compel you to forget this meeting, I see no other way around it.” Relaxing in the chair, he sighed.
“My name is Ivan Lockhart. I’ve been a vampire for three hundred years.
“I gave you my blood because you would have died had I not intervened, and I couldn’t possibly do that to Phillip—he seemed attached to you for some rea
son. Your death would have caused him immense suffering, and I wasn’t going to stand by and let that happen.” He paused and smiled, pleased with himself. “So there it is. I must say, it’s exhilarating to reveal my identity to a mortal I have no intention of killing afterwards. This is rather refreshing—breaking the rules, disclosing myself to a mortal… I should do it more often. Then again, I probably shouldn’t. The stakes are much too high…”
Stunned, Elizabeth listened as the vampire went on with his rambling. She was speechless, and a bit dizzy.
Vampires were real, and this one claimed to have lived for three hundred years when he looked no more than twenty-four… But wait. Had he mentioned Phillip earlier?
“Do you know Phillip Blackwell?” Her heart skipped a beat as she spoke his name.
Ivan Lockhart flinched. “Know him? I turned him almost a century ago.”
“A century?” The blood chilled in her veins.
Something was wrong, she felt lightheaded.
Everything went black.
The revolving fan hypnotized her as she lay on the bed. Her eyes had been glaring at the ceiling for the past half hour, maybe more.
Ivan Lockhart’s words echoed in her mind, I’ve been a vampire for three hundred years, I turned Phillip almost a century ago.
“Vampires…” she whispered in the twilight of her bedroom. “Both of them.”
Ivan’s revelation far from cautioned her from meddling in their preternatural world. Books were not enough to deepen her knowledge.
“I have to go back there,” she said with resolve, sitting on the bed. Back to The Devil’s Coven.
Sneaking into the vampires’ lair had been easier this time. She should have been a spy, she was so good at it. What would Phillip have to say about her now that she explored the adventurous side of her personality?
Maybe the whole near-death-experience thing had wiped out all carefulness from her system. A normal person would never return to the place where she had met Death for a second time, but she wasn’t normal. Ever since the accident, Elizabeth walked between both worlds—this one and the next. Not quite alive, but not dead either.
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