“Well, I’m leaving,” I whisper.
Tonight is my last night. It seems unbelievable to think once I leave this house, I will never see Rocco again. I put on the only good black shoes I have and start walking towards the stairs. Rocco is waiting at the bottom. He exhales in a rush when he sees me. He stares at me as he cannot believe his eyes. The look is so intense I feel myself blushing.
“You’re so beautiful, Autumn,” he whispers.
“Not as beautiful as you,” I whisper back, and it is true. He is an extraordinarily beautiful being. Whenever I have been with him, I have noticed everyone openly staring at him.
We have dinner in the dining room. It is lit with hundreds of candles the way it was the first night we dined here. We eat, we drink champagne, we talk, we laugh, we flirt, but inside I am so sad I want to cry. As I am eating my delicious chocolate torte that feels like clay in my mouth, tears begin to run down my face.
He comes to me, kneels down, and puts his arm around me. “Don’t cry, Princess. You made the right decision, and I’m so proud of you.”
I stare at him through my tears. “I think I’ve changed my mind,” I mutter.
“Stay strong, Autumn. Don’t do anything you will regret for the rest of your endless life.”
“I can’t. I just can’t leave you.”
“Will your great love for me be forever bathed in the blood of countless innocent humans?”
I flinch at the ugly thought. I know he is right. I’m being selfish.
“I’m sorry for being so weak, but it's so hard to leave you. I can’t even bear the thought,” I sob.
“You are young. In time you will forget me and find,” he swallows hard, “someone else and you will fall in love, marry him, and have a family of your own.”
I look deep into his eyes. “How will I ever find a man to equal you?”
He doesn’t hesitate. “You will love again, of that I am sure. You are too beautiful not to.”
I stroke his marvelously golden hair. “I know you probably don’t love me like I do you, but can you just pretend and say you do. Just for tonight. It will make me feel better.”
He clenches his jaw hard, and then he forces the words out, “I love you.”
And I realize why he never said it, because hearing the words doesn’t make me feel better at all, it breaks me. I begin to sob inconsolably. The loss of Sam and now him, it just overwhelms me. I cannot stop. The pain comes from deep inside me and I wail like a mother who has lost her child. I beat his shoulders, my hands clawing into his flesh.
I cry until I feel like a hollow drum. There is nothing inside. No pain, no love. Just emptiness. He carries me upstairs to his bedroom and lays me in his bed. We don't even make love. He just holds me and rocks me.
“Tell me about your childhood.” I whisper.
“No,” he says gently. “The less you know me the better. You must start to forget me, Autumn.”
“All right. Maybe you’re right, but I don’t want to end my last night with you like this. Let’s go up to the observatory and have a drink. Get drunk together on old wine. I want to remember us happy.”
He smiles. “Okay.”
We go upstairs and get drunk together, well, at least I do. The alcohol doesn’t seem to affect him at all. I get so sloshed I do a clumsy striptease for him. There is a strange expression on his face as he watches me. Greedy, hungry, but sometimes I see flashes of pain and sadness. We make love on the pedestal under the stars and the nearly full moon. Afterwards, he gives me those herbal tablets and I fall asleep in his arms.
I wake up in Rocco’s bed when it is nearly dawn. I can see the first tinge of light is already in the sky. I turn my head and see him watching me.
“Good morning,” I whisper, feeling strangely calm. Perhaps, I have resigned myself to my fate, or perhaps it is the calm before the storm.
“Good morning,” he whispers back.
“Did you not sleep at all?”
“No.”
“Why don’t you nap for an hour? I’ll go down and put the finishing touches to the painting and we can spend the rest of the morning and afternoon together.”
“Okay, come up when you’ve finished. I can’t wait to see it.”
I kiss him gently, tenderly, and slip out of bed. He watches me as I put on his discarded shirt. It’s cold against my skin, but it still smells of him. Downstairs, I can hear the servants moving about in the other part of the house as I make my way to the library. I don’t waste time. I immediately set about finishing my painting.
Finally, I stand back and examine it critically. It is without doubt my best work. He is beautiful, from his flawless skin to his sensuous red mouth, and yet somehow, I have managed to capture the loneliness and despair I sometimes see in his eyes.
I put my brush down, and see a spider, small and transparent hanging from a silver thread from the table with my painting equipment. I walk to the bar and pick up a glass, then I walk to the table and pick up a piece of paper. First, I trap the spider under the glass, then I slide the paper under the glass and pick them up together so that the spider is inside the glass with the paper as a lid. I walk to the window and open it. The sun has risen and a new day has started. Time to wake Rocco up.
Carefully, I set the spider free on the window ledge. “Be safe, little one.”
Fresh, morning air hardly warmed by the sun, blows into the room as I stand watching the spider crawl away. Go have a good life, little man. My good deed for the day, I look up into the superbly manicured gardens. To my astonishment, I see a baby deer caught in the branches of a bush at the edge of the garden. I look around and see no sign of its mother.
Instinct takes over. My legs start moving. I have only one thought to free the poor animal. I run from the library and out of the front door. I sprint as fast as I can around the side of the house, then loop around towards the tall hedges of the garden, and under their cover head towards the trapped animal. I don’t want to scare the helpless little thing. It is caught fast and fighting valiantly to escape.
As I get to it, I suddenly realize, to my amazement and confusion, that one of the fawn’s front legs has been tied to the branches of the bushes. I fall to my knees, next to the struggling, frightened animal, and quickly begin to work at the ropes. The knot is not too complicated, and I’m pretty sure I can undo it.
Suddenly, a shadow falls over me.
I whirl my head around and see a man looming over me. He is big with a tanned, grim face and bottomless black eyes. Too late I remember Rocco telling me, I must never leave the house. He pulls a syringe out of his jacket pocket.
I gasp in shock and try to stand, but before I can even begin to rise, he grabs my arm and plunges the needle into it. I try to open my mouth and call out for help, but my tongue feels heavy and my body starts to lean sideways.
Then blackness descends.
Chapter 64
Rocco
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YCYaALgW80c
-Stay-
Autumn!
My eyes snap open. I vault out of bed and stand, couched, tense, and listening. Everything is quiet and still. Ordinary. But I know…
She is in danger.
I close my eyes, and taking a deep breath, try to lock into her energy signature. I can still feel her, but only faintly. Something sluggish and strange about it. There is not a second to waste. Buck naked, I open my eyes and run through my bedroom, into hers, and towards the window facing the front of the house. My eyes scan the grounds and I see the man. He has her slung over his shoulder and he is running towards a waiting car.
My face twists.
I take a few steps back, and with a roar of fury, I run forward, straight into the window. The ancient glass on the window smashes into smithereens as I crash through it. I feel the air rush against my naked skin as I jump from the first floor. I land feet first on the ground and I roll once, before I right myself. Then I begin to run. The man is almost to the car. The sun is already
in the sky, and I can see that soon I will be outside the shadow cast by the house.
The car door opens from inside and the man throws her in, turns back to look at me, then jumps into the front passenger seat. The car shoots forward. I know I can still reach her. I can run faster than they can drive down the mountain.
I reach the end of the shadow cast by the house, and run directly into the morning sun’s deadly rays.
Instantly, my skin begins to blister, where my skin is cut, my blood actually bubbles as it is boiling. The pain is indescribable, but I can’t stop. I keep running even as my flesh fries.
I try to run, but the damage has now started to cook my muscles. Every step is agony. My knees give away and I drop to the ground. My shoulders and back feel as if they are on fire and my eyes feel as if acid has spilled on them.
On my knees, I scream her name.
There is not a thing I can do as I watch the car turn the corner and go out of sight.
There is a tree about six feet away, and I start crawling towards its blessed shade. As I crawl, I feel as if my skin is melting. I get to the shade and curl up. My head feels as if it is splitting, but my shoulders have taken the brunt of the damage. They feel like they are being poached. But worse, far worse than the physical pain is the unbearable agony of knowing they have her. She was so close to escape…
“My Lord,” I hear William’s voice say anxiously from above.
It is impossible for me to even open my eyes anymore. The pain is excruciating. Then I feel a big, thick blanket fall over my head and body. The friction against my burnt skin makes me shudder.
“Quickly,” he says. “Let’s get you up to the house.”
Unable to open my eyes, I allow him to lead me back to the house. Once we get indoors, he helps me up the stairs to my bedroom. He sits me on my bed.
“I will fill the bathtub with ice water,” he says.
“No,” I say. “Get me a glass of whiskey.” My skin is burning, but inside I am as cold as ice.
He goes out and comes back in a few minutes with a glass generously filled with amber liquid. I take it from him and knock it back. I give him back the glass. Our eyes meet. “How long have you known?”
“Ten years after I came to work for you,” he says quietly.
I nod. “Thank you, William.”
“Can I get you anything else?” he asks, his voice polite and unruffled.
“No.”
He leaves and I walk to my cupboard and open the doors. I press the buttons on a panel at the back of it and the secret door opens. I walk into the tiny room behind the cupboard. There is nothing there but a fridge. I open the door and pull out three pints of blood from it. Standing there, I drink it all. One by one. Cold, unappetizing blood runs down my throat and into my stomach and starts to warm my insides.
I look at my hands and already I can see my skin start to heal. The regeneration process is quite beautiful and I stare a while at the way the cells weave together. The new skin is flawless, not a mark on it to show the damage it has suffered.
When the pain in my head subsides, I walk out of the cupboard and shut the panel. There is no need to hurry anymore. That old romantic plan that she could simply slip away and never be seen again is gone, but all is not lost. True they have her, but they will not hurt her, and they need me to work the ritual. Without me it would be a shot in the dark. Something they would only attempt if I do not present myself at my father’s house.
I get dressed and go downstairs to my library. I can feel heat radiating from my stomach making me stronger and stronger. I walk towards the painting. I promised her I would not look until she was ready to show it to me. That day was today. I stand in front of it. The painting is marvelous. Superbly executed. A far cry from her painting of the castle. She’s made me beautiful, and god-like, even though she knew I was a parasite who preyed on the life force of humans.
For a long time, I stare at its terrible beauty. Then I go to my study. I write letters and I trigger the chain of events that should play out in the event of my death.
William comes in to ask if I would like lunch, but I have no hunger.
“No,” I tell him, “but come in and sit down.”
He sits opposite me and looks at me politely, as he always does. As if he had never seen me in the state I was earlier. I feel a great affection for him.
I push an envelope towards him. “I’m going out this evening and I may never come back so I want you to have this. You may continue to live here for the rest of your life as the master of the house. The household bills will be paid from a trust account and you will get a yearly income that will allow you to travel and live a leisurely life. Or you could even decide to use the check inside the envelope and live a completely different life in a different part of the world.”
“I hope you come back. I hope you come back with Miss Delaney. That is my greatest wish,” he says quietly.
I smile at him. “I’ve been blessed to have you.”
“No, the honor to serve you was all mine,” he says loyally.
“Thank you, William. Now I have a few more final arrangements to make before I leave.”
“Good luck, my Lord,” he says softly. Then he stands, and walks away quickly.
Chapter 65
Rocco
London
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XXYlFuWEuKI
-Save Your Tears-
My father’s butler greets me by name, “Good evening, Count Rossetti. Your father and mother are in the Rose room.”
He has never seen me before so I imagine he must have recognized me from that family portrait my mother keeps in the living room. He opens the door to the Rose room, announces me formally, and closes it behind me.
The dusky pink and gilded walls are the same, albeit a little faded. It is impossible to imagine that more than a hundred years have passed since I was last here. My father and mother are sitting on a long sofa. His deterioration is remarkable, his eyes are sunken, and his skin wrinkled and mottled, there is a seeping sore on his cheek. My mother looks unchanged, but I realize, like my sister, she is wearing a wig. Even standing two meters away from them I can smell the putrid stench of rotting flesh.
“Come and sit down,” my father invites cordially.
I sit opposite them. “What’s the plan?”
“What it always was,” my father replies coldly.
“Where is she?”
His hands tremble slightly as he reaches for his glass of sherry. “You will see her tonight… at the ritual.”
“You’re forgetting something very important. She has refused to willingly take part in your ritual.”
My father lunges forward suddenly, like a striking snake, his eyes glittering with cold fury. He may look weak and aged, but the ancient power and might is still coiled up inside him. “That’s because you didn’t do your job properly. Sometimes I wonder if you are truly from my loins. You turn away from your own nature, and now you fail at the one duty your lineage expects of you. It was a simple task. Make one human female fall in love with you, but you even managed to fuck that up.”
My mother touches my father’s sleeve. “Calm down darling. Rocco is more like me. He has a kind heart.”
My father leans back. “Stop deluding yourself, Junia. Our son is the one who persuaded her not to take part. One look at her and I can see she is deeply in love with this fool. She would have done anything for him. I know he persuaded her not to. He wants to destroy us all.”
“Yes, it’s true,” I snarl. “I didn’t want her to do it. I want us all to die off. We don’t deserve to live. We are cursed parasites.”
In a flash, my father streaks across the space between us, his fist raised to deliver a blow to the side of my head. I duck easily, and he flies face-first into the sofa. I stand and move back. My mother takes the opportunity to stab her syringe filled with very strong sedative directly into my arm.
I turn and smile at her. She is breathing hard and afraid I
might retaliate, but she has nothing to worry about. It is exactly what I expected from her and it is the only way I will see Autumn again, the only chance I have of saving her.
I sink down on the sofa and let the sedative take over.
Chapter 66
Autumn
Scotland
I wake up feeling strange. My head feels as if it is full of cotton wool and my tongue is stuck to the roof of my mouth. There’s light from a lamp on the bedside table. Confused, I squint and look around me groggily. I am in a beautiful, but unfamiliar bedroom. And then I remember. The horror floods my mind.
The deer, the man, the jab in my arm.
Oh Rocco! I’m so sorry. I’ve been so stupid.
I look down and see that somebody has dressed me in a long white dress. There is a window on one wall, and I scramble out of bed and hurry to it. It is pitch black outside, but it is clear I am very high above the ground.
The door opens and Isadora walks in wearing a long red robe with gold embroidered on it. It looks grand and ceremonial. She smiles at me. “Ah, you’re finally awake.”
“Where am I?”
“In my father’s castle on the Scottish highlands. It’s a pity you woke up so late. Otherwise I could have shown you the grounds. It’s very beautiful around here.”
I stare at her in amazement. Scotland? They brought me all the way to Scotland. “How long have I been sleeping?”
“Would you believe a whole day and a half.” She shakes her head as if scolding a child.
But clearly, they drugged me because they wanted me to sleep for all this time. “Why have you brought me here?”
She shrugs, her voice sultry with meaning. “For the ritual.”
The strong scent of her perfume floats over and fills my nostrils. I straighten my spine and my voice rings out clear and loud. “The ritual cannot be done if I do not agree to it.”
The Other Side Of Midnight Page 23