* * * *
Beaux stretched, enjoying the feel of being flesh and blood again. He studied the cuffs on his hands and held them up. The older vampire smiled ruefully and shook his head.
"I kept my part. It's your turn."
He sighed. “Good luck finding a unicorn. You'll need some of its blood for the potion."
"I found the Garden of Eden, didn't I?” Pyre stated cockily.
Beaux grunted and gave up his secret.
* * * *
Beaux knelt at Kate's feet, pondering his next step. If he made her a vampire, he'd open the floodgates to her memory, but if he kept her as his human slave, he could cloud her mind forever. An evil smile spread across his face as he gently brushed the hair of her neck.
He hesitated with his lips just inches over her vein. The call was too much, and he sank his teeth into her. He was careful, though, and took only a pint. Then he bit his lip, tearing enough skin away so that blood dribbled down his chin. He then kissed her with the knowledge his blood would bind her to him.
Satisfaction rolled through him. It had at last come full pass, and as he had promised Vincent so long ago, Kate was now his.
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Twenty-two
Pyre could barely contain his excitement. All he had to do was reach out and touch the unicorn before him. There had been nothing protecting it, no magic of any kind. He had simply walked into the corral and right up to it.
Some guardian. He sneered. Must not be that smart of a witch.
His hand hovered over the unicorn's nose, and he stopped himself. He laughed ominously and spread his arms wide. “Very clever. A touching spell. I almost didn't see it ... almost."
Magically, the witch appeared at the gate, shutting it before Pyre could escape. She leaned against the fence and watched him cautiously. He merely laughed at her pathetic gesture.
"Think that'll keep me in?"
She smiled. “Once you stepped inside that circle, your powers flew the coop."
He fought down the panic when he realized he couldn't even call the wind to lift him away. He strode angrily toward her, and she wisely backed up. The second his hand touched the fence, sparks flew, and he howled in pain.
Closing her eyes, Bianca bowed her head in prayer. “To reap what he has sown, to love what he has grown, from this day forward, let his goodness flow."
Pyre clutched his burned hand and sneered at her. “What kind of spell is that, witch? I don't feel a thing."
She shook her head sadly and merely opened the gate for him. Without hesitation, he soon had her by the throat and pinned to a tree. There was, however, no fear in her eyes.
"Stupid witch,” he growled, twisting her head to the side. He stared at her pale neck, waiting for the blood lust to rise. He so enjoyed this part, but he soon realized he had no appetite. Confused, he let go of her and backed away. Sneering, he tried to hide it from her.
"Well, you're lucky. Seems I've had my fill for the night.” He pointed at the unicorn. “Just give me what I came for, and I won't kill you."
"It's not my spell to break,” Bianca whispered. “And killing me won't change it."
He took one step toward her and doubled over in pain. He hit his knees, clutching his chest. His heart sped up so much he feared it would burst. He squeezed his eyes tight and curled up in a ball. Bianca knelt beside him and felt his fevered forehead. She sighed.
"Will evil never learn?"
* * * *
Kate sat straight up in bed, gasping for air. She looked wildly at the sleeping form beside her, and with a shaking hand, gently moved a strand of hair covering his face. Her hands flew to her mouth to hold back a scream, and her eyes watered.
"How could I not have seen?” she whispered, scrambling out of the bed.
Weeks have passed, and me the lovesick fool.
"Do not be so hard on yourself."
Kate turned her head toward the whispered words and nearly screamed at the ghostly figure beside her. The being was so white it blinded her, and she had to shield her eyes. Finding her voice, she asked, “Who are you?"
"A friend."
A tear slipped down Kate's cheek. “He's not Vincent. I—oh, God. I thought he was Vincent."
She slipped to her knees and wrapped her arms around herself. “I've betrayed my love."
"Kate, you can't do this right now. Pull it together and get out of here."
Though her heart ached, she nodded and quickly headed for the door. Pausing, she leaned her head against it, wondering how she could have mistaken Beaux for Vincent, and why it now seemed so clear to her.
"Because I took too much blood last night."
Kate stiffened and whirled around. She blushed at his nudity and averted her eyes. Within a blink, he was right in front of her. He placed a hand on her cheek and leaned his forehead against hers.
"You wouldn't have gotten far. You are, after all, still my fledgling, if only halfway,” he whispered. He covered her eyes with his hand. “Why can't you just love me?"
He tore the skin from his lower lip and crushed his bloody mouth to hers. She resisted at first, but the taste soon had her craving more. He pulled back and searched her eyes, waiting.
"Vincent, please,” she begged.
* * * *
On some level, she knew she was lost in a dream, but the fact that it felt so real had her wondering. She was dressed in seventeenth century clothes and sat at an old wooden table with Vincent. He had been hunting all day and was busy wolfing down the stew she had cooked. Thus, he was unaware of her intense staring.
Kate wrinkled her brows, wondering why his hair was black instead of blonde, and there seemed to be something uncharacteristic about the way he was sitting. When he at last raised his blue eyes, she gasped, “But your eyes are green."
He looked oddly at her. “No, they have always been blue."
A sudden knock at the door made her jump, and she rushed to answer it. She nearly fainted at the sight of a blonde haired, green eyed man standing before her. Her heart sped up as she glanced back at the dark haired man at the table. Her heart said he was her husband, but her eyes swore it was the man at the door.
Confused, she backed up into a corner. The two men greeted one another cordially, neither acknowledging her strange behavior. In an attempt to clear her head, she closed her eyes and took several deep breaths. Then she braved another look and found herself awake in the twenty-first century.
She blinked at the blonde haired man standing in her bedroom doorway. She hid her confusion as he placed a tray of food on her lap. She smiled weakly and thanked him.
"Did you sleep well, my pet?"
Not trusting her voice, she shoved a piece of bacon in her mouth and nodded.
"Excellent. I have a wonderful evening planned."
"Vincent."
"Yes?"
"Have we always risen with the moon?"
He hesitated before replying. “No."
She swallowed nervously, trying to penetrate the fog that had settled permanently in her head. “What are we?"
He smiled sadly. “What a silly question. You're human. I'm vampire."
Tears sprang to her eyes. “No, no I'm not."
Using her index finger, she lifted her upper lip. Her canine teeth were sharp and pointed. If it were possible, his face became paler than usual. He narrowed his eyes, barely able to control his anger.
"Damn it, Katherine,” he growled. “You're drinking too much."
"Me?” she snapped. Her temper rose. “I'm not the expert here."
He gritted his teeth, and the vein in his temple pulsed angrily. Unable to control himself, he put his fist through a wall. Then he left without a word.
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Twenty-three
Kate glanced around the moonlit porch. Vincent sat in a lounge chair, lost in thought and unaware of her presence. He held a nine inch dagger and absentmindedly dug the tip into his palm. He paid no heed to the blood
that pooled in his hand and ran down his arm.
She blinked and saw the black-haired man from her dream in his place. One more blink, and it was back to Vincent. Thinking her mind was playing tricks on her, she shook the vision away as concern for him surfaced.
"What are you doing?” Kate asked with a hint of fear in her voice.
Vincent looked at her quizzically. Then he followed her horrified stare down to his hands. He shrugged.
"They'll heal. Don't worry."
She grabbed his hand and gently tugged him in the direction of the bathroom. “Let's at least clean you up."
He growled and snatched his hand away. “Damn it, woman. I'm quite capable of taking care of myself."
Kate hid the hurt and thrust her chin up. “Fine. Be that way."
She turned on her heel, intent on leaving, but he grabbed her arm. “Where are you going?"
She glared at him and through clenched teeth said, “To clean your blood off my hands."
He stared at her for a slip of a second. Then, before she could protest, he sliced her arm with the blade. She cried out and tried to pull her arm away, but he refused to let go. When the wound didn't immediately heal, he gave a speculative grunt and returned to his spot as if she'd never interrupted him.
Growling in aggravation, she rushed inside, but by the time she got to the bathroom, the cut had almost healed. She cleaned her arm and opened the bottom drawer, intent on getting a band-aid. Under the box was a photo of her and a dark-haired man who looked a lot like herself.
Kent.
The name echoed through her mind, and a heavy ache settled in her chest. She swallowed over a lump in her throat and closed her eyes, remembering her brother's life but unable to recall his death. When the picture was suddenly snatched out of her hand, she looked up into Vincent's angry face.
"He's gone now. Get over it."
She bit her lip to keep from crying and mumbled, “I can't even remember it. How am I supposed to get over it?"
He frowned. “Be glad you can't. Do you really want to remember pain?"
She sighed longingly. “But what are we if not memories?"
After a second of silence, he snorted in disgust and rolled his eyes. “Anyway, are you ready? We have reservations."
* * * *
Kate sat alone on the porch. Wrapped in a blanket, she watched the first rays of morning light the sky. Vincent was safely tucked in bed, and she had been unable to sleep.
The portable radio on the table crackled as the station slipped out of tune. She picked it up and slowly searched for another. A haunting melody made her stop on a classical station. The piano solo picked at her memory, and she tried to recall where she had heard it before and why it made her heart ache. The minute she closed her eyes, she stepped back into a memory.
* * * *
Katherine and Vincent sat beneath the only tree in an eighteenth century courtyard. She felt a sense of warmth and love that for some reason had seemed lost for a long time. Tenderly, she kissed the back of his hand, hoping he could feel the magnitude of her love.
Music drifted through the air, and she relaxed in his arms, letting the sound fill her soul. After a few minutes, the pianist stopped, and the night was quiet once more.
"I feel so sad for him,” she whispered.
Vincent gave her a soft squeeze. “Do nay worry, love. He is so filled with music that deafness shall not stop it."
She looked toward the lighted window. “Still, I feel his pain."
He turned her to face him. “Beethoven's a remarkable man."
The color of his eyes broke her from the memory, and she found herself alone on the porch in the twentieth century. She shivered and pulled the blanket closer. She now knew without a doubt that his eyes were supposed to be blue, not green, and the soul that now looked out from those windows had pissed her off for the last time.
* * * *
Kate stared down at the sleeping vampire in her bed. Hate filled her heart as she thought of how he had deceived her. Her cheeks flamed at the memory of their lovemaking, and the realization of her betrayal sent a coldness through her soul.
She took a deep breath to steady her nerves. The sun was at its peak, and while she knew he was utterly defenseless, she still feared him.
He slept on his belly and had kicked off the covers with his restlessness. She held the broken broom handle above his back, unable to deny the admiration of his firm physique. Her hands trembled as she hesitated. It was, after all, still Vincent's body, though where his soul had gone was a mystery to her.
Do it. Once he wakes, he'll know you know.
Steeling herself, she raised the hammer and hesitated as her eyes watered. It cost her dearly for the next thing she knew, she was pinned to the wall with the stake pressed to her throat. His eyes glittered dangerously.
"I'm a light sleeper, my dear,” he whispered and pushed the jagged edges of the broom into her neck. It tore into her flesh, causing blood to gush down her shoulder. She screamed and fought in vain to throw him off. He merely laughed and licked away the crimson delicacy on her skin.
"Don't worry, dear,” he whispered. He ripped the bandage off her arm to reveal no trace of the cut he'd given her earlier. “You'll heal."
Then he backhanded her so hard, it rendered her unconscious.
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Twenty-four
Kate looked up through half-closed eyes at the man leaning over her. Weakness tugged at her consciousness but was soon pushed back as he smeared her mouth with his blood. Her eyes popped open as hunger punched her in the stomach. She blindly pulled his wrist to her and drank from his vein of youth.
Minutes later, she lay curled on her side as her body passed into immortality. He sadly brushed his hand over her hair and whispered, “I cannot let you walk the day. This was necessary. You are mine, completely mine."
Her temper flared, but her body was paralyzed. She screamed in frustration, but the only one who heard was Beaux. “Shhh, you'll be fine. You'll see."
Just let me die.
"Too late for that, my dear. Now just relax and let go."
She briefly thought of the human blood she would need upon waking, and as darkness claimed her, she growled, “You bastard!"
* * * *
Kate screamed in horror at the body on her lap. Blood covered her hands and face and stained her clothes. She had woken in the middle of feeding. She hadn't even been aware that she was doing it until when she was almost through.
Beaux sat up in the bed beside her, completely unaware of what was happening. He looked from her to the corpse and then slowly clapped his hands. The applause echoed hollowly around the room.
"Oh, bravo,” he said sarcastically. “Well, at least I didn't have to force you."
Her face was filled with terror, and she merely looked at him in stunned silence. He smirked. “But next time, try not feeding off the cleaning lady. Good help is hard to come by."
The comment sent her into hysterics. She slapped him several times before he caught hold of her flailing hands. He pulled her onto his lap and glared menacingly at her. “Let's get one thing straight, lady. I am NOT your punching bag."
He threw her across the room with ease. She hit the wall and slid into a crumpled heap on the floor. Stunned, she simply laid there, collecting her wits. When she found her tongue, she hissed, “Oh, but it's okay for you to abuse me?"
"As your master,” he snarled, “I can do whatever the hell I want."
"Master my ass."
He gritted his teeth and struggled to stay calm. To prove his point, he motioned for her to approach him. The next thing she knew, she was kneeling at his feet like some dog. He even had the nerve to pat her on the head. Her face twisted in rage, but there was nothing she could do.
"As you can see, you will find it near impossible to disobey me."
"Hmpf, watch me."
He gave her a bemused look. “With pleasure, my dear.” He frowned as he surveyed the
blood soaked room. “You have some cleaning to do, my pet."
He left her kneeling in the middle of the room and began to dress. The minute he loosened his power over her, she flew at him in a rage. He easily caught both of her hands and lifted her off the ground. His smile sent shivers through her soul.
"I bind thee, Katherine, from hurting me and hurting yourself,” he whispered, growing louder with each word. “I bind thee, Katherine, from hurting me and hurting yourself."
He repeated the spell until he felt the desire to harm him slip from her body. He set her on her feet, and she backed away from him with fear in her eyes and pain in her heart.
"Fine,” she hissed. “But no spell can make me love you ... ever."
His smile faded, and he felt his own heart twist sharply. He tried in vain to keep the pain from reaching his green eyes. “I've got his body. What more do you want?"
Tears spilled down her cheeks. “His soul."
* * * *
Several nights later, Kate woke before Beaux did. She turned her back to him as she savored the memory of her dream. Her heart lifted as she recalled the dream visit she'd had with Vincent. They had merely been walking in silence, but just his presence had been enough to appease her.
They followed a path in the swamp, and after a bit, he stopped and just looked at her. There was no blame in his eyes whatsoever. He understood she'd been tricked and held her unaccountable, even now. He conveyed his feelings about this to her without ever speaking a word.
"I love you,” he whispered.
He took her hand and pressed her palm to his heart. Then he pressed it to the cypress tree beside them. Then, he kissed her knuckles and vanished.
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Twenty Five
Kate looked past the human beast rutting above her. Her eyes glazed over as her imagination saved her sanity, and she fantasized she was walking on a sunny beach with her true love. A stinging slap on her cheek, however, brought Beaux's sweating face back into focus. Stunned, she merely gaped at him.
"Where were you, my dear?"
Unable to resist, she snarled, “Far away from you."
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