NYC VAMPS (The Italians): Vampire Romance (Book Book 2)

by Sky Winters

  Taking the book from her hands, he placed it back on the shelf behind the curtain and escorted her up the stone staircase. She had little appetite left for reading.

  Stopping at the doorway, the Duke caught her arm. “You must promise me to lock this door tonight and remember to check that your windows are fastened. Do you promise me?”

  Nodding in compliance, she pulled away from him and entered the room alone.

  Why on earth was he acting so strangely? Surely he wasn’t afraid of bats and birds or other creatures entering the castle? Pushing the bolt across on the door, she paused. Something had bothered the Duke and it had started after her tale of the creature that had been in her room.

  People were still superstitious in this land, and she had grown up with stories and legends of strange creatures that roamed the hills at night or little people who lived in the woods and the living dead that dwelt in a sleep of death by day and drank the blood of men, women, and children during the night. She smiled to herself; trolls, elves and vampires had been the cause of many a childish nightmare.

  The smile stuck on her face. In the legends, vampires turned into bats, flying to their victims through open bedroom windows. She thought of the Duke’s peculiar habits; not visible in the day and yet working during the night. As a picture of the blood pooling on his dinner plate entered her mind, she shook her head to remove the thoughts. It was all ludicrous, wild imaginings in the darkness. Yet before she retired for the night and blew out her candle, she made sure that the window fastenings were securChapter Four

  Abigail did not sleep well. For most of the night, she tossed and turned as the images of strange creatures filled her dreams. At one point, she thought that she heard a scratching sound outside of her window, a tapping at the glass, but it was probably only the branches of a tree rattling in the wind.

  When at last she opened her eyes, the sun was streaming in through the window. All was well with the world and she smiled at her own ridiculous nature.

  A note from the Duke was waiting for her at breakfast. He apologized for his behavior the previous evening and offered to take her along to a dance being hosted by one of the local dukes that evening. He explained that he had kept to himself far too much over the years and he now wanted to show off his new bride.

  She wondered what had caused the sudden change of heart but did not care; she was going to a dance and would have plenty of other people to talk to. Perhaps even her own sister would be there?

  The day was bright, and Abigail did not want to stay indoors. There was a whole day to pass until it would be time to ready herself for the dance and she needed to stretch her legs.

  One of the closets in her room had been filled with clothing and she found a walking cloak along with outdoor shoes. It appeared that the Duke had thought of everything. Soon she was outside and enjoying the fresh clean air. The castle grounds were wild and unkempt, but she did not care and as she wandered around, she thought herself as Cathy looking for Heathcliff, though she doubted that she would see Victor von Reichenstein before the evening.

  Rounding the front of the castle, she could see the little chapel in the distance. The wedding seemed a lifetime away. Everything had happened in such a whirl; it had been so dismal on that day that it would be good to look around the place in daylight.

  The air was stale and hushed as she opened the oak door and stepped into the small vestibule. Her heart beat a little quicker as she remembered standing there with her father. The damp coldness of the place hit her immediately as she stepped down the aisle toward the altar. The small table at the front of the chapel was bare; all was as before with none of the usual paraphernalia of a church to be seen. The only thing of beauty in the church was the stained glass window to the east. It depicted a strange scene of a man fighting a horned beast – the devil himself perhaps? The colors were vivid and would look wonderful with the sunlight behind them; she would need to be up early to catch the sunrise to get the best effect.

  On the white stone steps leading up to the altar, she noticed a muddy footprint. Reaching across, she touched the mud; it was still damp, someone had been in the chapel that morning. Walking up the steps, she followed the trail of mud to where it stopped in front of a large stone sarcophagus. Several small stones had been arranged in a circle formation on top of the stone plinth. Picking one up, she examined it. The piece of marble was carved with strange signs. She picked up another and then another; all were the same but with different engravings. They looked pretty, and she thought she might be able to make something with them; a bracelet or necklace perhaps? Putting them into her pocket, she ran back down the aisle and out into the sunshine.

  Back in her room, another beautiful gown awaited her. This time it was the most wonderful red color. Again there were slippers to match and a scarlet ribbon for her hair.

  When the knock came to her door to herald the start of the evening, she opened it boldly, expecting Joseph to be waiting for her. Instead it was Victor looking dashing in a black velvet evening jacket and cream cravat. Despite his coldness, she noticed his eyes flicker at her appearance and she was surprised to find that the thought of his admiration pleased her.

  Without speaking, he took her arm and led her down the stairs into the waiting carriage.

  The dance was to take place in a large house only five miles away and the journey did not take long. Although they sat together in silence, the mood felt cheerful and Abigail felt quite giddy. This was her first party as a married woman.

  The first person she saw was her sister Janine, and she rushed to hug her younger sibling. It seemed months since they had been together and not just a few short days. Abigail had so much to tell her about the castle and her new life that she almost forgot the Duke. Turning around, she could see that he was caught up in conversation with one of the local gentry. Catching her eye, he nodded toward her and she took it as approval to sit with her father and sister for a while at least.

  With glasses of warmed punch, the two girls chattered away just like the old days. Her father seemed pleased that she seemed so content; he had been worried that her new life would be dull and drab.

  As they talked amongst themselves, a strange cold sensation crept over Abigail and caused her to shiver. Looking up, she saw the Duke looking at her from across the room. He stood alone, aloof almost from the rest of the crowd and her heart went out to him. He did not belong here or fit in with these people but he was doing this just to please her. His face looked pained; there was a deep sadness about the elegant figure and she felt his sorrow. She was about to go to him when he disappeared into the billiard room. Perhaps he preferred to be alone?

  Abigail danced with her father and with several old acquaintances. She enjoyed herself and no man dared flirt with her now that she was married to Victor von Reichenstein.

  At the end of a rather energetic polka with a red-faced squire, she was about to move to the refreshments room when a hand tapped her on the shoulder. Turning around, she faced the Duke, who gave her a small bow.

  “May I have the pleasure?”

  Abigail had not expected to dance with the Duke, but as the orchestra struck up a waltz, his arms encircled her waist, and they set off across the ballroom.

  His arms were strong and held her tightly to him. He was a good dancer, too, and swept her deftly around the room. The spinning caused her head to feel light, as if her feet didn’t touch the ground. The other couples whirled around them and the lights dazzled her eyes whilst the Duke twirled her around and around. With her head against his chest, she closed her eyes and let the music drift over and above her. The two moved so easily together that it was almost as if they were one. When she opened her eyes again, the Duke was looking down at her yet this time his eyes were softer, a look that tore at her heart. He looked as if he were about to break down and cry.

  “Abigail, my love,” he whispered softly, and as the music came to a close he kissed her gently on the forehead. Without another word, he rush
ed across the dance floor to the balcony and fled out into the night.

  Watching him disappear into the darkness, her heart melted. She had never met anyone like him in her life. In a heartbeat, she had crossed the floor and followed him out into the garden.

  A full bright moon hung low above the trees, lighting the formal gardens that had been set out toward the front of the house. From the top of the balcony steps, Abigail scanned the trees and the bushes below, yet the Duke was nowhere to be seen.

  Running down the steps, she crossed the path, feeling the dampness of the grass seep quickly into her thin slippers. At ground level, it was harder to see above the foliage, and she skirted the box hedging and rose beds, calling out his name into the night air.

  "Victor, Victor, where are you?"

  There was no reply, and she stood quietly for a moment, listening to the sounds of the night. The strains of a Viennese waltz spilled out from the open balcony doors and drifted sweetly in the moonlight. An owl hooted to its mate in the distance, but apart from that all was still except for the sound of her own breathing.

  Perhaps he had returned indoors and she had missed him? Turning to retrace her steps, she stopped in her tracks. Something fluttered in the trees ahead and a dark shadow flew across her path next to a small copse of trees.

  She stopped again yet all was silent save for a slight rustle of leaves underfoot.

  "Victor?"

  Something had disturbed the peace of the night and she shivered, suddenly feeling the cold. It was no use; she would have to return to the dancing. If the Duke did not want to talk, then she could not make him.

  As she turned to leave, a cold hand grasped her own and she jumped in alarm as the Duke stepped out of the trees.

  "I am sorry to startle you, my dear." His face was strained, and his eyes bloodshot as if he had been weeping.

  “Victor, what is wrong?”

  He bowed his head as if to compose himself before looking up at her with his usual steely gaze. “Nothing is the matter. Why should there be? I needed fresh air after all that dancing, that is all. I am older than I look.”

  Abigail could not help but reach out for his hand and at her slight touch, his whole body seemed to crumble, the cool and cold facade melting into the night.

  “Victor?”

  He could not look at her and turned around so she could not see the pain inside him. His body hunched as if he were a wounded animal.

  Abigail hesitated, unsure of what to do or say; there was only one thing that she could do. Stepping forward, she wrapped her arms around him.

  His sobs were gentle at first, building up into great gulps of sorrow as she held him closely to her, his head bent upon her slight shoulder.

  When his grief had been spent, he stood before her, eyes blazing with emotion. His face was close to hers, his breath cold upon her cheeks. Never had she felt such passion and yearning for a man and her heart pounded fiercely beneath the red silk of her gown as his lips gently brushed hers.

  His kiss was electric and the rush of emotion to her head almost made her swoon. The gentleness made way for passion and his lips seemed to absorb her soul as he hungrily sucked at her delicate mouth.

  “Oh, my love, Abigail, I have been so selfish, how can you ever forgive me?”

  The Duke held her tightly in his arms, crushing her slight frame against his solid flesh.

  “There is nothing to forgive, Victor; you have shown only kindness to me, for which I am most grateful.”

  Shaking his head, he looked away from her.

  “My intentions in marrying you were not honorable, Abigail. I needed a wife to dispel the rumors about me. You must have heard the stories the villagers tell? I knew your father was in difficulties and paid him a substantial amount for your hand in marriage. You are such a sweet young girl and all I can offer you is a life of loneliness at the castle. You deserve a husband who can love you as you deserve and be a real husband to you, not a shadow that is only capable of skulking around in the darkness. I release you from your obligations. We have not yet joined physically as man and wife and you have not been tainted by me. Your father can keep the money; he is under no further obligation to me.”

  The words shocked her. She had been unsure until this moment but now she knew that she loved the strange man standing before her.

  “Victor, surely now we can start again. Our lives can be different. Whatever business keeps you away from me, I am sure that I can help you in some way? Together we could be happy. You are a good man, I am sure of that.”

  Frowning, the Duke turned to look at her. She was so young and innocent; she did not know what she was saying.

  “There are things that you do not know about me Abigail. Deep, dark and terrible things that would make you hate me if you only knew. You will return to your father’s house tomorrow. It is for the best.”

  “But, Victor, what happened just now, surely...”

  He turned and started to walk away from her; there seemed nothing more to be said.

  “Victor.”

  He carried on walking and the panic rose inside her. She had only just discovered her feelings for him, and she could not allow it to end here, not now. If she let him walk away, she would never see him again, of that she was certain.

  “Victor, I love you.”

  The words stopped him in his tracks. They were the most powerful weapon she had.

  Chapter Five

  He stood quite still and she ran up to him and waited. Eventually he turned, his face full of sorrow.

  “You cannot love me, Abigail, there are things that you do not know.”

  “Do you have no feelings for me at all, Victor? If that is true, then I will return to my father’s house as you say. Just look me in the eye and tell me that you do not care for me.”

  His gaze met hers, and she could clearly see the love burning brightly in his eyes.

  “Then tell me, Victor,” she whispered, and stood wide eyed, waiting for him to speak.

  He hesitated before speaking. The words wouldn’t be easy to find and once his secret was out in the open, there would be no turning back.

  Grabbing her arm, he spoke directly. “If you love me, do you swear that you will not tell a soul what I am about to reveal? Even if you cannot love me after this, do you swear?”

  Abigail solemnly nodded.

  “My story goes back many years. As a young man, I came to these parts seeking my fortune. It was then I met the first Duke von Reichenstein. He was an old man and adopted me almost like his own son; he had never married and lived in quiet seclusion. He made me an offer to inherit his castle and fortune but with one provision.”

  The Duke stopped talking, his eyes gazing into the distance.

  “Go on, Victor.”

  “You must remember I was a young and ambitious man at the time. All I was interested in was making my way in the world. I had been born into a poor family and a life of wealth and luxury appealed. You must try and understand this.”

  Abigail nodded and squeezed his cold hand against her own.

  “I agreed to his wishes. I should have left there and then and tried to make my own honest way into the world, but I made my choice and have had to live with the consequences. You see, the old Duke had a claim on me; he still has.”

  “Surely the old man is long dead?”

  The Duke sadly shook his head. “That is the thing; the old Duke will live for a long time hence.”

  Abigail looked puzzled; none of what Victor was saying made any sense.

  “You have heard of the legends of the living dead in these parts, the ones they call vampires?”

  She smiled. “Surely these are just folk tales, Victor, the stories I was brought up with as a child?”

  “The Duke is a vampire, as am I.”

  The words seemed ludicrous but coming from the Duke, she doubted that he could be so foolish. His face was deadly serious, and she did not know what to think.

  “In exchange for his l
ands and castle, the old Duke wanted to make me his companion, a vampire, and for him to become my mentor. I had heard the tales about vampires and thought the old man mad and senile and readily agreed to his request. He was neither mad not senile and on the night of the agreement, he stole into my room as I slept and sucked of my blood. From that night, I became as he. There was no turning back, and I have regretted that day ever since. The practices of my own species abhor me; I have committed myself to an eternity of drinking the warm blood of my fellow creatures. I have resisted that practice until now and old Joseph sees that I have a fresh supply of raw animal meat and blood to eat and drink on a daily basis. As long as I am kept satisfied in this way, I can keep the most ungodly part of my nature at bay. I fight to keep my own nature; the old man was weak when he drank of my blood and I am more man than creature of the night. I am still destined to lie in the darkness by daylight; any contact with the sun would be my death. I have considered this from time to time, but have been too weak to take my own life.”

  He stopped to gauge her reaction. She could hear the words but they still didn’t make any sense and she wondered if the Duke were ill.

  “What about the old Duke, your sire. Where is he?”

  “He is at the castle. By day he sleeps in the crypt of the old chapel, by night he is free to roam the estate and the surrounding lands. I have no power over him, although he does grow weak. I fear that you saw him sitting in the chapel at our wedding. He did not want me to marry you and was jealous of me having another companion. I fear that he watches you at night; that is why I ask you to lock your door and windows. Your story about the bird in your room… I fear it was a vampire bat, the old Duke himself. Contrary to the legends, a vampire does not live forever, a few centuries at most. He is desperate for the pure blood of a virgin, the only thing that will restore him. That is why I was worried about you, but the old man cannot hurt you now –I have seen to that. Now you see why you must leave me and return to your father’s house?”