Marcus cried. The sunrays healed the last of his wounds and gave him back the strength the poison had stolen from him, but his heart was heavy. He went back inside the house and headed to his bedroom to get a fresh change of clothes. As he entered the dim room, he smelled Diana’s scent still lingering in the air and he walked to the bed. He sat at its edge and took the pillow she had slept on, then hugged it and buried his face in it.
A cell phone rang somewhere in the house. Marcus raised his face from the pillow and tilted his head toward the hallway, trying to locate the sound. He left the bed, but kept the pillow to his chest and walked outside. The ringing was louder. He followed the sound to the bathroom, where his cell phone laid on the tiled floor, almost getting lost in the black and white décor. He had forgotten all about his cell phone. He’d had the presence of mind to retrieve it from Alexander’s green apartments when they had gone back to the villa. Thankfully, it must have slipped out from one of his jeans’ rear pockets.
Alexander’s worried voice echoed into the small bathroom as he answered the call. “I’m working on patching things up for you with the Council. I have an idea, but it could take time to make it work. Anyway, I wanted you to know that they might send someone to apprehend you later today.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes. I was tipped off—” Alexander paused. The loud noise of cars’ honking covered what he said next.
The call dropped and when Marcus tried to call his friend there wasn’t any signal. With the Council at his heels, he didn’t have time to plan anything. On his way out of the house, he went to the kitchen and grabbed a loaf of bread and a container of olives to eat on the road. He would start interrogating the few informers he had in the vampire underground. Rejects are a universal species and can be found in every aspect of society. Not every vampire was associated to a nest, and he happened to have befriended a few of the most disgruntled.
Full of hope that something would come out before the Council’s watchdogs found him, he opened the outer door and almost tripped over a small box left on the steps. He looked at the cardboard container closed with a pale purple ribbon, knowing he didn’t want to pick it up, but put the bag with the food down and lifted the box from the floor, gingerly passing it from one hand to the other. His eyes focused on the purple ribbon, and when he recognized it as a scrap of fabric torn from Diana’s purple top, his heart plunged to his stomach. His fingers were badly shaking and he had to yank the piece of fabric away to open the box.
Chapter Nine
Diana fell asleep in the same position the vampires had left her. She hadn’t meant to close her eyes because she didn’t think she deserved to rest, but her ever-changing physiology had decreed differently. She didn’t need to witness the end of the night and the first lights of dawn to know she must rest. As soon as church bells announced it was five o’clock in the morning, her mind became sluggish and her limbs sunk lower into the rug. She dreamed of Marcus.
“Vampling, wake up.”
Something soft poked her forehead.
“Open your eyes. It’s late.”
Diana didn’t want to obey. Marcus was holding her in his arms. She swatted at her forehead. Marcus was kissing her right ear, the warm wetness of his tongue sent shivers through her.
“You must wake.”
Marcus passed a soft, furry hand over her cheek and purred…
Diana’s eyes opened to stare into the small face of a calico kitten, whose tongue was gently lapping at her nose.
“Good. I was this close to showering you with a cold glass of water.”
Diana looked over the kitten and found the owner of the voice that had rudely intruded in her dream. “Who are you?”
A chubby girl in her early twenties stared back at her, holding a big blue glass filled to the rim. “A full-fledged vampire. So, for starters you show some respect.” The girl wrinkled her nose. “You’re in need of a bath.”
Diana shook her head. She wasn’t sure when she’d had her last shower, but could still smell sea salt and Marcus on her skin and she wanted to cling to that.
“Don’t waste my time, vampling. You’ll bathe whether you want to go willingly or not. It doesn’t matter to me how you go.” The girl stepped back and called someone named Carlo who must have been just outside the door.
A burly man peeked inside, looked at the girl, and raised an eyebrow in a silent question.
The girl pointed a finger at Diana. “Take her to the baths.”
The man, Carlo, entered the room, walked to Diana, then bent to grab her.
Diana recoiled at his touch and crawled back toward the wall. “I can walk.” She was on her feet before the man could pick her up.
“Follow him and don’t take long. Sire wants to see you tonight and there’s so much work I must do on you to fix this slave-camp look of yours.” The girl, although shorter than Diana, managed to look down at her, then made a circle with her index finger to encompass Diana from head to toe. “Why would anyone keep their hair short like that is beyond me.”
Diana closed her eyes and plastered a thin smile on her lips, but didn’t answer back. She had known bullies all her life, and they didn’t like to be ignored.
The girl walked to Diana and invaded her personal space. “You better be fast, vampling.”
Carlo grunted and took Diana by the elbow. She jerked her arm away, but the man was strong and didn’t let her go. He shook his head and pointed ahead with his chin.
Diana resigned herself to be led and walked faster to keep up with her guard’s pace. They entered a long, windowless hallway. The ceiling was high and vaulted. The walls were covered in rich tapestry depicting a hunting scene. Despite the place being illuminated by the artificial light of three big chandeliers, the palette of the tapestries was airy and gave the idea of the outdoors. Her espadrilles flew on the polished mosaic floor that matched the colors on the wall. The flooring pattern resembled the one she had seen once in the ruins of a Roman villa, and at Marcus’s house.
Every time her thoughts went to Marcus, her heart bled anew.
“Hmm.” Carlo yanked her elbow to steer her to the right.
She looked ahead and saw a door opening where the man was pointing at. “That’s my stop I guess.”
He nodded and pushed her forward. Diana lowered the handle of the door and stepped inside warm, aromatic fog. Her first reaction was to turn toward the hallway, but the door was slammed in her face before she could make it outside. She put one foot before the other, her arms outstretched before her, fingers probing the air for any obstacle. After a minute of blind walking, her eyes adjusted to the fog and the fragrances burned her eyes, but her improved senses helped her find the built-in bench jutting from the wall at the other end of the room.
She went to sit and took a better look at the place. On her right, there was a big archway leading to a series of small pools, on her left, a door with an ornate oval with the silhouette of a woman wearing petticoats and plumed hat. She headed to change. Her torn clothes were dripping with her sweat; the sauna had erased Marcus’s scent from the fabric and she mourned that loss. She peeled off what was left of her top after the vampire everybody referred to as sire had cut a strip from it, and discarded that and her shorts missing all the buttons on the wooden bench beside the shower stalls. Now that only bad memories clung to her body, she grabbed a hard, natural sea sponge from a cabinet stacked with high-end products, and washed herself, scrubbing those men’s touches from her skin.
Once she tingled from the harsh treatment, she looked at her reddened hands and kneeled to the floor. It was her ritual. After every appointment with one of her clients, she had cleansed her body from their memories. This time, she had rubbed her skin until it had bruised, hoping to bring back Marcus’s marks on her. For a moment, she felt his lips moving over hers, his fingers tracing circles over her wrists. The sweet taste of his blood flooded her mouth and she gasped at the intensity of the sensation.
Loud bangin
g on the door intruded in her bliss. Carlo entered without giving her time to cover herself. He didn’t flinch at her nudity and tossed her a heap of white fabric. She caught it and discovered it was a soft terry robe. The man tilted his head to the exit and reached out to grab her, but she didn’t let him.
“I don’t need any help.” She stood and donned the robe, then crossed her hands over it to close it at her chest.
Carlo shrugged then held the door open for her. They walked back to the hallway, but the man passed the room with the rugs and pillows and led her three doors past that one. He knocked, and from the other side the chubby girl answered, “About time.” The man let Diana inside, but remained by the entrance, guarding the door.
The room was small, a dark curtain made of heavy fabric filling the wall on the left. An iron wrought chandelier hung from the beamed ceiling. The other three walls were covered with a burgundy-and-cream striped wallpaper. A big poster bed without a canopy dominated the place, its headboard high and made of intricately carved and dark, almost ebony-black wood.
“At least you don’t smell anymore.” The girl showed Diana a walk-in closet that opened under an arch onto the right wall.
Diana entered the closet and was surprised to see it was almost as big as the bedroom. The place also contained a vanity table with a delicate-looking chair and an antique mirror. Clothes sorted by style were displayed on hangers covered in black satin and shoes were stored in frosted-glass cabinets.
The girl passed her and headed to the dresses section, where she opened a drawer, took out a white lace bra and matching panties, then scrolled through the hangers and picked a white cocktail piece. “Change into this.” She handed Diana the dress, then tapped her right foot on the floor. “What are you waiting for?”
Diana had never liked undressing before other people. All her clients, aside from one exception, had liked to watch her remove her clothes one item at a time, and she had hated it.
“Do you want Carlo to help you?” The girl’s eyes shot toward the bedroom where the burly man stood by the door.
Diana removed her robe and draped it over the back of the chair, donned the underwear, then the dress that reached her knees, giving her a virginal look. The fabric hugging her skin was light, probably silk, and made her feel clean. She would have liked for Marcus to see her dressed like that. She didn’t resemble an escort, but a college girl, someone he would have been proud to go out with.
“Sit.” The girl pointed at the chair. “I’ll see what I can do to make you look presentable.”
When Diana didn’t move fast enough, the girl’s eyes lit and she opened her mouth to call the burly guard. Without a word, Diana raised one hand to stop her, pulled the chair out from under the vanity table, and sat.
The chubby girl, denied her sadistic pleasure to see Diana beaten by Carlo, took her revenge by insulting her. She enumerated all Diana’s flaws, starting with the vulgar color of her skin, not pale enough and blemished with sunspots, to the shape of her eyes that made it impossible for the girl to apply makeup on them, to her lips too full to wear any lipstick, to her torso so undeveloped she resembled a pre-pubertal boy, to her legs that were too muscular. The list never ended.
When the girl smeared a glob of foundation over the scar on Diana’s sternum, Diana grabbed the girl’s wrist and stopped her. Her stepfather had given her that scar when she had finally fought against him, and nobody was allowed to touch it. Nobody but Marcus.
“How dare you!” The girl raised her free hand to slap her, but to Diana’s surprise, the hand remained in mid-air. “Sire—”
From the reflection in the mirror, Diana saw the man only when he crossed the archway. His steps were so quiet it looked as if he were gliding over the floor. The girl bowed deeply before the vampire, her lower lip trembling.
“You are dismissed, Laura.” The man walked to the vanity table and stopped behind Diana, his hands over the back of the chair. “I see you are ready for me.”
Diana heard the girl’s retreating steps, the bedroom’s door opening and closing, and hoped at least Carlo had stayed behind.
The man brushed the skin between her shoulder blades with the manicured nail of his right index finger. “I am pleased with you.”
Bile filled her mouth and she couldn’t help but jerk away from him.
“You’ll sit tight and be thankful for my interest in you.” He didn’t need to lower her to the chair.
At his words, Diana felt the compulsion to obey him and sat back. Tears wetted her eyes when he lowered his hand and slid a finger inside her dress to caress the swell of her breast, then he traced the scar on her sternum, pressing his fingers on it.
“That must’ve been exquisite pain.” He removed his hand and bent to brush her crown with his lips. “You’ll be perfect for the ceremony.”
Diana wished her hair had fully grown. She had felt his mouth on her scalp and it had repulsed her.
He regarded her with an amused expression, his hand lowering toward her chest again. “It will be so much fun breaking you.” At the last moment, the corner of his mouth turned up, and he leaned to whisper into her ear without touching her. “Someone else has already tried, but I won’t be as clumsy as the ones who came before me.” He paused, his eyes went to her scar. “And when your change is complete, your skin will heal to flawless perfection.” He straightened. “Your friend the centurion will join us for dinner.”
Diana’s heartbeats became frantic.
The man laughed. “His life depends on how well you behave. I’ll lift the compulsion now and you’ll do as I say or your centurion won’t even reach the dining table.”
She felt his hold on her body lessening.
“Will you obey my will?”
She nodded.
“You may speak.”
“Yes.”
“Yes, I will, sire.”
Diana’s throat tightened, pain shot behind her eyes.
“You may speak.”
Clarity of vision came back to her. She massaged her neck. “Yes, I will obey you, sire.”
“You are promising.” The man smiled down at her, then his expression changed and he became serious. “Do you know who I am?” He gestured for her to answer.
She swallowed, then nodded.
The man raised an eyebrow.
“You must be Claudius, Virgil’s nest’s sire.”
The vampire beamed. “Poppet…” He extended an arm for her to take. “Shall we?”
Diana stood from the chair, turned to face him, then rested her hand on his and walked out of the dressing room and into the bedroom. Carlo had left after all.
“Do you like your room?”
She was puzzled by his question and hesitated.
He gave her another of his condescending smiles. “You have permission to answer.”
She didn’t know what he wanted her to answer and said the first thing that came to her mind. “It’s elegant.”
“Of course it’s elegant. I want my vestals to be treated well.” Claudius patted her hand, then led her out to the hallway.
She ignored his last statement, her worries leading all her thoughts back to Marcus’s safety. “May I ask a question?”
Claudius stopped walking and pivoted on his heels, eyebrow raised, a cold smile tugging at his lips. “What do you wish to know, pet?”
She thought of how phrase her question. “How did you find me?”
“One of my lineage’s best-kept secrets. A useful gift I inherited from my sire, the ability to sense my bloodline anywhere in the world.” He regarded her with an even colder smile. “You are Virgil’s progeny, therefore mine as well since I sired him. I can track you down wherever you are by the signature of your blood. I’ve always known where you were.” Claudius laughed at her shocked expression.
“But then why didn’t you send your people sooner?”
“Because I like to play cat and mouse with my prey.” He paused, then laughed again with more mirth this time. “I
usually find useful to have a bargaining chip to use against the Immortal Council. The vampire who came back to me the night you were kidnapped reported an immortal had done the deed. It was too big an opportunity to waste by claiming you right away. Next time I would have dealt with the Council, I would have used it to gain more freedom for my nest. Little did I know what kind of gift you were bringing me.” He grabbed her arm and turned to resume the walk.
Suddenly, her senses were overwhelmed and she froze, but Claudius made her move with a sharp pull of her wrist. “Come.”
Diana kept her trembling knees in check before the vampire decided to impose his will on her again to do his bidding. For the briefest of moments, she had heard Marcus’s thoughts and felt his anguish and frustration as if it were her own.
****
A fall storm caught the Romans unaware. Lightning and thunder took central stage in the afternoon sky while people hurried home before the streets became too crowded. The wind howled through the cypresses trees, and fat drops of water fell all over the city in what soon became a torrential rain. Unaware of nature’s tantrum, Marcus looked at the piece of folded paper lying at the bottom of the small cardboard box. His hands were shaking badly and he couldn’t lift it. He had opened the box fearing the worst, and at the sight of the innocuous-looking piece of paper, he had let all his pent-up worries out in a scream that had stopped several people on their tracks.
Before someone could ask if he was okay, he ran back inside the house and closed the outer door behind him with a kick of his boot. He strode across the atrium and went to sit on the stone bench facing the rain water pool to calm his nerves. The open-air atrium with the garden at its center dated the building back to that Roman house he had planned so long ago. Three full stories had been added all around that central opening, but to his relief, the original rectangular marble tub representing the core of his home had remained untouched through the millennia. He had spent hours watching the liquid surface reflecting the sunrays and illuminating the whole place with white, soothing light.
The Lost Centurion Page 14