Unable to catch what she said, he leaned in closer. Placing his ear almost to her lips, he listened, only then remembering he was still wearing his glasses. He quickly removed them, slipped them in his coat pocket and reached out with a shaking hand.
The bolt squeaked and the door opened. Edouard whirled around, realizing his actions made him look guilty of something indecent.
Nurse Marteau handed him a chair with a knowing smile. She glared with open hostility at the patient before being ordered out with a curt nod from Edouard. She left the room, drawing the bolt across the door with a loud snap.
Edouard was so transfixed on his patient he jolted at the sound. He breathed deeply to regain his composure. He sat on the chair to resume the examination only to be lost in a moment staring at his true love. Yes, she was his true love. Had he known her in another life?
She started to rock back and forth. It was then he noticed her dress had slid up, exposing her thighs.
He cleared his throat and looked away from her glorious sex, noticing for the first time the blanket hung like an improvised curtain over the window. He frowned but thought it an obvious thing to do for curtains were not allowed.
Edouard recalled Henri’s story of a patient who had ripped a curtain into strips and used them to bind and gag a nurse. The man had managed to escape, only to shoot himself at the police barracks in Auxerre, after being charged with a double murder. Henri insisted the man was innocent and could not harm a fly but the damage had been done.
Edouard got up and removed the blanket from the window. Sunlight poured into the room. He gave a start when she screamed with all her might. She tried to wrestle the blanket from Edouard’s frozen hands.
He watched her scrambling away from the window and before he could react, she slipped under the bed. Something else bothered him – her divine music had stopped.
Completely perplexed, he stood motionless with the blanket dangling from his hand. The door bolt scraped. His heart sank with that ominous declaration.
Nurse Marteau burst into the room.
Edouard shrugged at her in his obvious confusion.
The nurse shoved him aside and got down on her knees. She looked under the bed at the sobbing patient, demanding in her stern voice, “Now stop that at once, do you hear.” She tried to grab the patient but she had curled up by the wall and was out of reach. Nurse Marteau got to her feet and sighed. “They’re always doing this, you know. How many times have I said ... take the legs off the beds, we’re not running a hotel ... but does anyone listen to us nurses, of course not.” She shook her head with dismay. “I’ll fetch Bonbon.”
Edouard panicked for that would end his first session before it had begun. “That will not be necessary, nurse ... I’ll handle it.”
Nurse Marteau looked dubiously at Edouard. “I don’t think that’s wise ... I can tell this one is trouble.”
Edouard angrily insisted, “She’s merely having a panic attack ... there’s nothing dangerous in that.”
Nurse Marteau sighed with a grimace. “Very well, doctor ... but don’t blame me if she takes out an eye with those fingernails.” Faltering at the door, the nurse turned and smirked wickedly at him.
He had the distinct impression she would enjoy seeing his face scarred for life. She almost seemed amused by this prospect.
Chapter 29
Edouard jolted when Nurse Marteau slammed the door shut, evoking screams of torment from the other patients. He glared at the door, shaking his head with dismay. Realizing he was still holding the blanket, he replaced it across the window as best he could. Crouching down in the gloom, he looked under the bed.
She was wedged into the corner next to the wall and had pulled her knees up to her chin, blatantly revealing her womanhood.
No – don’t go there. But he couldn’t help it and stared at her with a deep longing. His loins reacted to his desire. The dark music of angels kissing a celestial harp caressed his mind. That solitary word “Eternal” pierced his mind. He trembled with an overwhelming urge to crawl under the bed and make love to her.
He cleared his throat. “Good morning, I am Doctor Clavet. I am here to help you. Can you tell me your name?”
She stared blankly at him for several moments before speaking in a listless, faraway voice. “You must stop him before it is too late ... you must.” Her solid black eyes were unblinking.
Her face instantly transformed into a picture of sublime beauty by her smile. “I am only for you, Edouard.”
Thump! Edouard bumped his head on the metal frame of the cot. How did she know his name? Again he was reminded of their brief encounter and how she had spoken to him directly into his mind. His thoughts raced out of control. She was at the cemetery with those ghouls. Was she one of them? Did she feed on that poor woman’s blood? He remembered tasting blood when they kissed at the florist and trembled with an irrational fear. Was she a vampire – perhaps their queen? Was he hunting her as a vampire? That’s sheer nonsense. But the idea grew stronger, for it seemed to be the missing piece to this puzzle.
Edouard coughed and continued, “I am here to help you. You are safe now. No one can hurt you.” He reached out. “Come now, the blanket is back on the window.”
He felt a cold shudder like someone walking across his grave. With a leaden thud his heart began to race, filled with a lustful heat as the word Eternal sent his mind into a delirium of sexual desire. He was transfixed by those eyes so black, so limitless the entire universe dwelled there. He swam in her darkness.
Eternal reached out with a frail hand and grasped Edouard’s strength. He shuddered with her divine ecstasy, her ancient power surging through his flesh, blood, sinews and nerves. She allowed him to gently pull her from under the bed and help her to her feet.
She looked around the circular stone room with the slit window and thought she was back at the chateau. Eternal smiled into those green eyes. She had loved this man ever since their first meeting at Troy. A stab of terror told her The Count was still searching for her fear. She transported her mind back many thousand years to confuse his hunt. The tiny room transformed.
Once again, Eternal stood wrapped in the embrace of her true love. Standing upon the ramparts of the fortress, she and Paris laughed down at the folly of Agamemnon’s army. Her beloved Paris hugged her closely in a wondrous clinch. With lips parted, Helen gently brushed Paris’ full lips in a moment lost in time – a moment lost in eternity that lasted for a mere heartbeat. The image evaporated when he drew back from her kiss.
Eternal sat down on the bed and sighed blissfully. “I am only for you, my true love. Since time’s birth I have searched for you.” She cried tears of relief. “We are meant to be ... to be as one. Together we are Eternal.”
She heard the peephole shutter and sensed the hatred emanating from the other side of the heavy oak door. The fear that The Count was nearby gripped Eternal in a panic.
“You mustn’t let him take me,” she implored.
Eternal stared into Edouard’s eyes with her deep pools of night. She held him so tightly with her gaze she stopped him breathing.
“You promise to keep me safe?” she begged. “You must promise ... with your life, Edouard.”
~~~~
Edouard blinked several times, coming out of his trance. Visions of himself as Paris kissing his divine love, Helen, beneath a full moon invigorated him. He looked momentarily confused around the darkened room and instinctively started to remove the blanket from the window.
She snatched his hand from the blanket and screamed hysterically, “No.”
Edouard jolted again with her touch, receiving a torrent of her power, revitalizing him, loving him. He watched with morbid fascination her scurrying away from a shaft of light that bathed the bed in gold.
Utter dread crossed her face when sunlight slashed her legs. A faint whiff of cooked flesh, swirls of fine vapor and a sizzle accompanied her harsh, gasping intake of breath.
Edouard frowned but didn’t let th
is deter him.
She sang to his soul, “Love me with your gentle touch, Edouard.”
Edouard had an uncontrollable desire to reach out and stroke her soft milky-white skin, to soothe the fine scratches on her face. He wanted to kiss those full lips and taste her with all his passion, and yet he was also strangely afraid of this mysterious woman. Why, he didn’t know but the fear sat in the pit of his stomach blending into a heady cocktail with his lust for her.
“I hate the sun. It burns my skin.” She curled up into a tight ball at the far end of the cot. Her eyes were fixed on the blanket.
Edouard dutifully mended the improvised curtain making sure no shards of light got through. “I need you to tell me your name ... can you do that?” He was jubilant now that he had her attention or was it the other way around? Perhaps he was finally getting somewhere and sat down on the chair to continue the treatment.
She turned to stare at Edouard with dead eyes, lackluster, lifeless. She proceeded to rock back and forth and resumed her chant, “Eternal ... Eternal ... Eternal.”
Edouard became agitated, frustrated at her immediate relapse into useless and repetitive muscular movements. Her intensity seemed to have diminished for the music had dulled to a faint whisper. But her power was undeniable for he too started to rock back and forth in unison with her. With momentous effort he broke the spell and jumped to his feet.
“Eternal ... what does that mean to you?” He frowned when the music evaporated from his mind. An immediate sadness overcame him.
He wanted to hug her to his chest and love her forever. She didn’t reply but her wild eyes stabbed his heart with a promise of so much more, pleading for something that perhaps he couldn’t give her. Or could he?
It was then that Edouard realized her eyes were a delicious, deep brown and her hair a dull reddish chestnut. He could have sworn her eyes were almost as black as coal, her hair dark burgundy just moments before. He shrugged off such things as impossible. A trick of the light was responsible. The mind can play strange games in moments of stress and desire. But the flashing images at the florist told him otherwise. And her music was gone.
“Perhaps you have a family? They will be worried about you, yes?” Edouard hoped this different tack might work.
She shook her head no with such ferocity that Edouard thought she might be convulsing but he dug further. He had to. Why – he could not fathom? Perhaps he had no control in her presence.
“So you do remember your family? Do you know where they are so that I may contact them?”
She stared in such terror that he instantly regretted inflicting such pain. She shook her head no, chanting yet again, “Eternal ... Eternal ... Eternal.”
He put on his reading glasses and scribbled in his notebook – “the mention of her family brought on a violent reaction of terror and disconnected chanting. This must be the source of her dissociative behavior – a classic case of posttraumatic stress disorder”.
The scraping noise of the peephole interrupted his thought process. He gave an irritated glare at the door then looked back at her. His heart skipped and raced off like a wild stallion. Something struck a chord with him. He must do all he could to help her. No, that wouldn’t be enough.
She stopped rocking and said in a sad, listless voice, “I don’t have a family ... I am E ....” She stared blankly at Edouard with the look of a lost child.
“Eternal? Is that your name?” He waited what seemed an eternity for an answer and then continued in the face of her silence. “I am here to help you ... but you must first tell me your name.”
“Why?”
“It’s a good place to start, don’t you agree?”
She continued to stare at Edouard. Her eyes bored into his soul and caressed his heart with her desperate need.
He shivered for a brief moment with pent up guilt – perhaps he had failed her so many times before just like at the florist. An intense gust of darkness swept across his mind, leaving in its wake a mindless dread that he could not fathom. He sensed this woman and her unprecedented, intimate knowledge of previous lives held the means to repair his past failures.
She spoke with a soft voice, “I will tell you ... when you promise to protect me for all eternity.”
Edouard frowned at her request. What would he need to do to save her? The ancient lullaby filled his soul with her essence. He sighed with her passion bathing him, nurturing his desire. What did she mean? He gave her a kind look, shrugging off the inexplicable fear that had come upon him so swiftly.
“Of course I will protect you ... there’s nothing to fear. You are in safe hands now, I assure you ... so please let me help you.”
She shook her head violently once more. “No ... you don’t understand. He’s coming ... I can sense him.” She paused with head cocked to one side, perhaps listening to something. “He wants Eternal ... when the moon is ....” She frowned. “He wants my blood ... he needs me.”
Edouard stared into her obsidian eyes in puzzlement and hesitated for a moment. “You are not making any sense. Who are you ... please try to remember?” He began to realize that she might be suffering from split personality disorder.
She stared at him with an expression of such intensity he was momentarily distracted by her piercing gaze.
“You must protect me. When I am free ... we will be Eternal.” She shuddered. “Nothing else matters.” Her face contorted with anger and fear. “You are duty bound,” she said with a growl.
Edouard was taken aback by her ferocity. Her mood swing was so severe he could not explain it. Damn it, that sound of the scraping metal plate interrupted his train of thought. He became enraged, glancing at the door.
“Don’t concern yourself with them, Edouard,” she spoke into his mind.
He whirled back to the woman now staring at the blanket with head cocked to one side, listening intently for what – danger? He needed to know if he was her savior. Had she chosen him?
“I don’t know what I look like,” she asked with an exquisite angelic voice. “Am I beautiful?”
Edouard was surprised by the simple but out-of-place question. He cleared his throat. “Yes you are. I’ll bring you a mirror if you so desire ... and a brush for your hair.” His stomach swirled with excitement, a million butterflies fluttered down there.
She smiled with sublime radiance. “That would be so delicious ... thank you, Edouard.”
Edouard carried the chair to the door. He knocked and grimaced upon hearing the harsh scrape of the bolt being drawn. Every fiber in his body screamed to remain with her. Her hold was so intense. He stepped into the corridor and handed the chair to Nurse Marteau, thanking her with a curt nod.
He turned to his beautiful patient staring after him with those beseeching eyes. “There is no need to worry. You’re in my hands now.”
She touched his mind, “Yes, Edouard.” She gave a faint smile then returned to her vigil at the blanketed window with head cocked to one side.
Nurse Marteau slammed the door with a terrible crash, causing Edouard to start and elicit screams from the patients.
He lost his temper. “Never do that again.” He glared at the vile woman and became even more infuriated by her disrespectful smile. He knew this nurse was the wrong kind of person to hold such responsibility over these fragile souls.
Edouard checked the corner mirror for signs of escaped patients before he ascended the stairs to Henri’s private office and quarters. He paused at the door to compose himself before knocking.
Henri’s voice beckoned him in.
Edouard saw Henri standing by the window.
Henri sighed. “Do you have any opinions to her treatment?”
Edouard wondered if Henri had been privy to the interrogation – the scraping peephole. “I cannot be sure, not yet. I agree she has had a traumatic event but perhaps the amnesia is a means of self-preservation?”
Deep down, Edouard knew that wasn’t true. There were so many incongruous things about her he could not
explain. It also seemed obvious now that Henri hadn’t spied on his session for he would have asked further about her name.
Edouard continued, “She has asked for a mirror.”
Henri turned around, looking encouraged. “You have done well in such a short time. I am impressed.”
Henri grimaced and walked over to a cabinet and removed a blood-stained dress.
Edouard stared in shock at the terrible state of the garment. What horrific ordeal had his true love experienced? His fear of The Count soaked through his shirt.
Henri sighed with resignation. “The murders at the Moreau Chateau are weighing heavily on my mind.” He stopped, obviously overcome with grief. He wiped away tears.
Edouard had a brief flash of terror, branding his soul with guilt when he recalled confronting that beast, Lucien, at the cemetery. The damp fog, blood on his hands and those fangs terrified him, forcing him to flee for his life. He had failed his true love that day for the second time. A tremble of cold dread chilled his spine. He dreaded the moment the police would be informed.
Chapter 30
Inspector Gerard and the same two Gendarmes he used to investigate the murders retraced the tire tracks back to the field the killers had parked in. While the Gendarmes scoured the area for clues, Gerard stood on the gate and surveyed the perfect view of the chateau. He knelt and ran his hand in the deep grooves left by the wheels. The distance between the front and rear wheels told him the car was an expensive model. He removed a tape measure and noted the wheelbase which confirmed the car was very large – the length of a Rolls Royce or perhaps a Mercedes.
“You two stand guard at the chateau. It’s a long shot ... but who knows what goes on in a lunatic’s mind. It wouldn’t be the first time criminals returned to the scene of the crime.”
Both Gendarmes saluted the inspector and marched back to their police car.
Gerard scratched the back of his neck. He knew no one in the area owned a large car that would match the wheelbase, in fact, not many had cars in these parts. People like Jean Busson still preferred horse and cart, clinging to the simpler ways.
Voracious Vixens, 13 Novels of Sexy Horror and Hot Paranormal Romance Page 30