Chronicles of Darkness: Shadows and Dust

by Andrea F. Thomas

  Her rocking grew faster, more frantic. The madness in her eyes became more and more visible, and her mood turned from fear to aggression. "But he will pay for that, the little huntsman! He will pay! And his family also! He prevented me from doing my duty for my Master. He twisted my mind and made my thoughts tumble with beautiful words! He woke feelings inside me, feelings for him, feelings, I don't want to have!" she screamed into the silence of the cold room and pounded the carpet with her fists.

  For a while, she remained like that, until she regained control of her emotions. The young woman rose, took off her wet clothes and slipped into a new, clean and dry dress. Chalice grabbed a delicate ivory comb and ran it through her wet locks to get some order into her unruly hair. "I will be beautiful again, beautiful for my Master, so that he will forgive me," she said. Slowly, a tiny smile formed on her pale face.

  "Now, look who decided to come home at last," a dark voice sounded behind her and Chalice's heart leapt painfully in her chest.

  Filled with fear, she whirled around and was confronted with Azrael's angry face. Unmoving, he stood beside the door. His eyes burnt with unrestrained fury and their harsh stare forced the young woman to fall on her knees in front of him.

  Her whole body trembled with fear and she couldn't move.

  "Where have you been?!" the vampire thundered dangerously and took a step towards the pathetic, crouching figure at his feet.

  Chalice couldn't answer, because the fear had not only frozen her body, but also her tongue.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  THE POISON OF THE SNAKE

  "Madame, I am more than sorry to have to disturb you at this late hour, with such bad news..." the police chief began while looking at Helena, who strode with crossed arms through the library, an expression of absolute concentration on her beautiful face. "...but, I didn't know where else to go," Michel continued, released a sigh and fell onto the small settee next to the fireplace.

  Skylar was still sitting at the table, her ears firmly on the conversation between her mother and the police chief. At the same time, her curious eyes searched the documents in front of her with great interest.

  The head of the Leosols stopped pacing, her eyes fixed on Michel. A friendly smile formed on her face as she tried to lift the man's spirits. "It is not your fault. There is no way to be everywhere at once, in order to guard everything."

  "That may be true, but I also have something positive to report," he remarked, returning her smile.

  "You do?" Helena arched her brows, questioningly.

  "Even though the culprit managed to escape again, he wasn't able to finish his horrible deed this time."

  The huntress nodded seriously, and sadness was heavy in her voice as she said, "Indeed, it is good to know that the victim still possesses her heart, so she may find salvation in heaven."

  "Excuse me, Madame, it seems I didn't express myself correctly. This time, there is no victim. Mattieu Derriére, one of my best men, prevented the worst. The Countess Juliette Marceaux is still alive and in good health," Michel interrupted. "It is really amazing."

  "What do you mean?" Helena wanted to know.

  "Well, this crazy bastard spread fear and terror among the population of Paris," Michel explained. "For months there was nothing we could do about it. But now, it seems that we are very close to arresting him. Yes, I'm sure. It is only a matter of time until we can lock up this lunatic. They probably are going to have him beheaded right away. Then all people will finally be able to sleep peacefully again," the excited police chief speculated.

  "Better not do that, Monsieur Dutroit," the huntress warned him urgently. "Don't make the mistake of overestimating yourself and your men. It is even more important not to underestimate the murderer."

  Michel jumped from the settee and went over to Helena. "With all due respect, Madame. We nearly had him! We were very close to arresting him," he announced a bit miffed that Helena didn't trust his and his men's skills.

  The huntress sighed. "There is nothing to be said against this. But the population of Paris is not safe, and won't be safe for some time. He is playing a game with you. Everything that happens is because he wants it that way. He wants you to believe that you are getting close to him. But in reality, you are getting trapped deeper and deeper inside the web he is weaving," she said, rubbing at her temple, which was pounding from the strong headache. "Like you said, you almost caught him."

  Piqued, Michel pulled a face.

  The huntress didn't give up and warned more urgently, "You do not know whom you are dealing with here. He will be back to finish his deed and nothing, absolutely nothing will be able to stop him."

  The police chief waved off her concern. "Pah! He shall come. My men and I are ready, and this time, we will get him. One thing is for sure, he will not be able to place his dirty paws on the Countess Marceaux a second time," he stated.

  Helena shook her blonde locks. "You can't be certain. Like I already explained, do not underestimate him. You have no idea about the devil you chose to tangle with."

  Michel stroked his beard slightly. His brown eyes narrowed, scrutinizing her. "Apparently, you know far more about the culprit than you are telling me, Madame Leosol. Are you hiding something from me?" he challenged.

  Helena's heart missed a beat, but she kept her face motionless. "I don't know what you are talking about," she replied innocently, her gaze easily standing up to his glare.

  Silence fell as they stared at each other, but then the police chief took one step backward. "Please accept my apology. I didn't mean to start a fight. You are right, Paris is not safe yet."

  "I would like to speak with the Countess Marceaux. I also wish to investigate the crime scene and talk with Monsieur Derriére, your man, who was so fortunate of preventing a murder. Would that be possible?"

  Michel nodded in confirmation. "Tell me when and I will see what I can do about it."

  "Now," the huntress announced casually.

  The police chief's mouth fell open and he stared at her in surprise. "You mean right now?"

  Helena smiled brightly, winking. "I did say that, didn't I? Or maybe there is something wrong with your ears, Monsieur?"

  It took a moment for Michel to regain his composure. Whenever she smiled at him, he felt his chest warm, a feeling of great happiness spreading through his body. He cleared his throat in embarrassment, hoping that he wasn't blushing, but the glowing of his ear tips was telling otherwise. Rubbing the nape of his neck, he answered, "No Madame, my ears are working just fine. There is just one tiny problem. The Countess and her family have already left the country. She is not available for an interrogation." Searching, he reached inside an inner pocket of his jacket. "But, fortunately... where is it... ah, I've got it." He pulled out a small, well-worn notebook and held it out to the huntress. "I have spoken with the Countess shortly after the incident. I wrote down everything she could tell me about the circumstances. Maybe you have use for it, Madame Leosol." Confidently, he waved with the small book.

  Helena took it from his hands and placed it on the table. "Thank you very much, Monsieur Dutroit. I am sure, it will be of great value for me. But now, we really shouldn't waste any more precious time. I really would like to inspect the crime scene as soon as possible and talk to Monsieur Derriére."

  "Alright, if that is your wish."

  Helena nodded and turned to her daughter. "Skylar, come. I want you to accompany me."

  The outcry of happiness, which she was expecting from the girl, failed to come.

  The police chief tried in vain to contain his laughter. "It seems to me that your daughter is very engrossed in her reading. Or maybe, she is sleeping with her eyes wide open? Well, it is kind of late, and someone so young probably belongs in bed at this time. Your son could come with us, if you want?"

  Wrinkling her forehead, Helena looked at her daughter and didn't hear what Michel was saying.

  Secretly, Skylar had taken out the parchment with the clan symbols. She seemed to
be hypnotized, her eyes staring unmoving at the old piece of paper.

  The huntress took hold of a small shoulder and shook her gently. "Skylar? Precious?"

  Her thoughts interrupted, the girl snapped out of her trance. "Mama? What... what's wrong?"

  Helena put the paper back into the leather case. "We have to go."

  Skylar looked at her, questioningly. "Go? Where to?"

  The huntress smirked. "You will see soon."

  *****

  "Answer my question, Chalice! Where have you been?" Azrael roared, outraged. Roughly, he grabbed the trembling woman kneeling at his feet and pulled her upward. "I demand an explanation! This night, I didn't get what I was craving and that is entirely your fault!" One of his gloved hands closed around her throat and pressed her into the wall, choking her.

  Chalice gasped, tiny, black dots started to dance before her eyes as both her hands clawed at the one of her master, trying desperately to break the tight grip. "Ma-ster... pl-plea-se... l-let... m-me... ex-pl-plain," she finally croaked out hoarsely.

  Azrael's eyes blazed furiously, but the grip around her throat loosened somewhat. "Explain? Yes! I recommend you do that right away!" the vampire growled threateningly.

  Chalice took a deep breath and swallowed a few times, before she began in a slightly trembling voice, "My Master, do you remember the hunter clan, whose members bear the tattoo of a lion's head on the nape of their necks?"

  "The Leosols?" he enquired, slowly letting his hand drop.

  Chalice nodded, hesitantly rubbing her sore throat.

  Azrael removed his black cape and slipped out of his black leather gloves. With great care, he placed the cape across the backrest of a stuffed chair and threw the gloves on the table. He turned back to the blonde woman. "What about the Leosols?"

  With utmost caution, Chalice drew closer to him. Suddenly, she blurted with a tiny smile on her full lips, "They are here." She stressed every word.

  "What did you say?" Azrael asked again, thinking he had heard wrong.

  "I have seen them, even talked with them. There is no doubt, my Master! The hunter clan is here. The hunters!" Excited, she began to prance. "That is the reason I returned just now. I wanted all the information I could get about the hunters, before revealing their presence to you," she continued, clapping her hands, gleefully.

  "Are you absolutely sure?"

  "Yes, yes!" she reaffirmed strongly.

  Contemplating, the vampire stroked his beard, while the corners of his mouth slowly lifted. "What a nice surprise. Our game becomes more interesting." His outburst of rage was forgotten and made way for a devilish grin on Azrael's pale face. "Well, I didn't plan on meeting vampire hunters here. Despite that, I can't help but be happy to meet the last of the mighty hunter clan, and destroy them," he declared maliciously and sank into his armchair.

  "You will wipe them out completely, right, my Master? You are going to kill the whole family, right?" Chalice's face radiated pure glee at the thought of another blood bath. Insane giggling erupted from her throat. She sat down on the floor, at the feet of her master. She wrapped her arms around his legs and gently rubbed her cheek against his knees. One thought was ruling her mind. 'Now, I have proven my worthiness to my Master. As a reward, he will finally turn me into a vampire.'

  One of Azrael's hands slid into her long, light blonde hair. "Of course, I will destroy them. But before I can do that, you must tell me everything you found out.

  His companion told him all. Almost everything. Prudently, she refrained from telling him about the chaos of feelings, which whirled inside her, and also that Kyrian was the cause.

  Relaxed and bare-chested, the vampire lay on his stomach, on top of the bed, his arms wrapped around a silky pillow, on which his bearded chin rested.

  Chalice was sitting on his butt, a small flask, containing scented oil, in her hand. Carefully, she tilted the flask and dribbled the oil all over Azrael's back. The pleasant fragrance of sandalwood filled the room as Chalice started to rub the viscous fluid into the vampire's skin.

  "Oh, that feels great," Azrael moaned satisfied and closed his eyes, while Chalice's slender fingers danced gracefully across his back.

  "My Master?" she asked hesitantly. Actually, she really didn't want to disturb the vampire's peaceful mood, but there was one question she just needed an answer to.

  "Mmhhh?"

  "What are you intending to do? I mean, concerning the hunters."

  "What are you worried about, Chalice? There is nothing to fear. A woman and her two children are no threat. The whole situation is completely, outrageously simple. Ridiculous in fact!" He shook his head slightly and laughed, amused at the thought of facing off with the hunters.

  "What do you mean, my Master?" Chalice inquired.

  "It is written that the Leosols are the most powerful vampire hunters ever. Now I find out, the clan consists only of a weak woman and her two brats. I think that is quite funny, don't you?"

  "Of course, my Master," Chalice agreed. "But still, isn't there a bit of truth to every legend? Whoever said there are not more of them?"

  "Well, that's easy to find out," Azrael replied calmly.

  "How?" Chalice asked with great interest.

  The vampire just grinned and announced confidently, "Some of my followers are in town. I 'm sure they are more than willing to assist me in my little game. We are going to turn the hunters into hunted."

  *****

  Surprised, Jean looked up from his dinner as a dripping wet person entered the kitchen.

  "Young master!" Monique exclaimed in shock and hurried over to the young man. "What happened to you?"

  Before Kyrian could answer, the cook grabbed one of the roughly woven towels and began to dry his long hair. "You have to get out of these wet clothes right away, before you catch your death," she said firmly. "Besides, you are dripping all over my freshly cleaned floor and I can't allow that."

  Jean chuckled, merriment dancing in his eyes, as Kyrian's imploring gaze met his. "Do not try to resist her, my boy!" He shook his head. "Monique's maternal instincts are strongly developed. I wonder what it will be like when we have children of our own."

  That remark earned him a harsh glare from the cook and he quickly turned back to his meal, while Monique sent Kyrian off to change clothes.

  *****

  Azrael clearly relished the massage, which had turned into a tender caress.

  Chalice's fingers slid over his bare, muscled back down to the waistband of his pants. With the tips of her fingers, she traced the contours of his clan tattoo, which had been etched into his lower back. The picture of a black cobra in attack position stood out from the pale skin. Fascinated, the young woman regarded the tattoo in the flickering light of candles, which had been placed all around the room. The play of shadows and light made the symbol appear alive, and Chalice thought she could hear quiet hissing noises. Utterly enraptured, she paused. Not loosing eye contact with the snake's tattoo, she asked quietly, "Will this be mine, too?"

  Azrael's eyes opened slowly and he rolled over, so that Chalice was sitting on his lap. "What are you talking about," he enquired, lurking.

  Her soft, warm hands began to caress his muscled chest. "After you've made me your bloodmate, will I also bear your symbol on my body?"

  Azrael groaned. For a while now, Chalice had been getting on his nerves with wanting to become his bloodmate. "Yes, sure," he responded dismissively. "When the time has come."

  "When will that be, my Master?" she asked with emphasis in her voice and began to cover his chest with kisses.

  He sat up and pushed her roughly off his lap. "The exact time has to be chosen wisely," Azrael said, annoyed by the discussion.

  "To me it seems that the time has come. Yes, the moment is simply perfect!" Chalice whined, batting her innocent eyes at him. "Why wait any longer, my Master?"

  Chalice rose and pressed herself against his back, embracing his body fiercely from behind. "I so desire to finally become on
e with you. Please, my Master, please! Release me from my dreary human existence and let me become a part of your world! Please, do it, my Master! Bite me, I beg of you! Bite me!" she whispered hoarsely into his ear, not willing to be put off any longer.

  The vampire's body shuddered. The temptation was great, because he hadn't had anything to drink this night. He could feel her heartbeat thudding against his back, could hear the blood coursing through her veins. Yet, he withstood the longing, pulled out of her embrace and brought some distance between their bodies. "We don't have any time to spare. There are more important things that need our attention," Azrael answered, delaying her.

  "But, my Master..."

  "ENOUGH!" he thundered furiously. "I'm warning you, Chalice. Don't try my patience! You don't know what else I am capable of!" Blood thirst was flashing wildly in his eyes and the scared young woman retreated. Shaking with fear, she stumbled backward and fell onto the bed as the vampire drew closer.

  Their gazes locked, Azrael straddled her trembling body, grabbed her wrists and held them in a viselike grip. His powerful charisma bound the young woman as much as his strength did. Chalice was joyfully overwhelmed and frightened at the same time. She was unable to free herself, her pulse racing.

  The vampire bent down to whisper into her ear, "Do you want to know how I became head of the Serpentes? Do you really want to know?"