The Vampire Burns

by Amy Cross

  Copyright 2019 Amy Cross

  All Rights Reserved

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, events, entities and places are either products of the author's imagination or are used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual people, businesses, entities or events is entirely coincidental.

  Kindle edition

  First published: September 2019

  Trapped in Second World War Paris, Chloe Carter desperately tries to find the vampires who caused her to be sent back in time. She soon discovers, however, that vampires are the least of her problems.

  Captured by occupying forces and accused of being a witch, Chloe is quickly led to the dungeon of a torturer. There, she's forced to tell the truth about how she ended up in war-torn Paris. Meanwhile, brothers Matthias and Hugo Bane are also in Paris, as Matthias recovers from a devastating injury that left him close to death. Will they discover Chloe in time, and will Matthias finally break his rule about never getting involved with the lives of humans?

  The Vampire Burns is the second book in the Three Nights of the Vampire trilogy. Readers are advised to start with the first book. This book ends on a cliffhanger, which is continued in the third and final book in the series.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Chapter Forty

  Chapter Forty-One

  Chapter Forty-Two

  Chapter Forty-Three

  Chapter Forty-Four

  Chapter Forty-Five

  Chapter Forty-Six

  Chapter Forty-Seven

  Chapter Forty-Eight

  Chapter Forty-Nine

  Chapter Fifty

  Chapter Fifty-One

  Chapter Fifty-Two

  Chapter Fifty-Three

  Chapter Fifty-Four

  Chapter Fifty-Five

  Chapter Fifty-Six

  Chapter Fifty-Seven

  Chapter Fifty-Eight

  Epilogue

  The Vampire Burns

  (Three Nights of the Vampire book 2)

  Prologue

  Many years from now...

  “Gran? Are you ready?”

  Startled, I turned to see Harriet standing in the doorway. She was carrying a pile of books that almost reached above her head, and she struggled with the weight as she made her way into the room.

  “I've been doing some research,” she said breathlessly, “and from what I can tell, most vampires come from one of two places. There are hot-blooded vampires, the ones who basically look like normal people, and they're mostly from, like, southern Europe. You know how people say Dracula was from Transylvania? There might be some truth in all of that, even if Dracula himself probably wasn't real. And then you've got cold-blooded vampires, who -”

  “Harriet...”

  “Cold-bloodied vampires seem to come from somewhere else entirely,” she continued as she set the books on my dressing table and turned to me. “They're the ones that look freaky, and they seem to be -”

  “Harriet.”

  “So I did some really major digging, Gran, and I found these texts that talk about vampire history. There are all these names, like Gothos and Patrick and someone called Abby Hart, and events like a battle in the -”

  “Harriet.”

  “What?”

  I hesitated for a moment, before sighing.

  “You're a smart, level-headed girl,” I explained finally. “You're wise beyond your years, and you keep your feet on the ground.”

  “Thanks,” she replied. “I think. But what's your point?”

  “My point,” I said, “is that last night I told you the start of a story that most people would consider to be... implausible, to say the least. I told you about vampires, and about mysterious prophecies, and about time travel! And don't get me wrong, I'm flattered that you believed me, but I can't help wondering why you believed me. And so readily, too. I was fully prepared for you to humor me and for you to dismiss the whole thing as the ravings of a mad old woman.” I paused, waiting for her to respond, but she seemed somewhat lost for words. “I suppose what I'm saying,” I continued, “is that I don't understand why you believe me. Your mother certainly never did.”

  I waited again, but she said nothing and then – after a moment – she took a step toward me.

  “You are so not a mad old woman,” she said firmly. “The truth is, I've picked up on hints over the years, little things that you've mentioned. Little things that Mum refuses to mention, things that freak her out. I've known for a while that something pretty crazy once happened to you, Gran. Something that no-one else in the family really wants to talk about or even acknowledge. It's like our family has this weird, dark secret at its heart. I've asked people before, and they've never explained it to me. I've even asked you in the past, and you just smiled and shook your head. So when you opened up to me last night, it was as if all the pieces were finally falling into place.” She paused. “And Gran,” she added after a moment, “there's also the fact that...”

  I waited.

  “I just believe you,” she continued, with a faint shrug. “I listened to you and I believe you. I could tell you weren't lying, if that makes sense.”

  “Thank you,” I replied, and I could feel tears welling in my eyes.

  She hesitated, before coming over and sitting on the bed next to me. There was a momentary pause, and then we both turned and looked at the open window, where the curtains were billowing in a late-night London breeze. Beyond the window, the lights of London could be seen in the darkness.

  “Do you think he'll come tonight?” Harriet asked finally, echoing the question that had been filling my own thoughts.

  “He's so close,” I replied. “I can feel it.”

  That was the truth. There was a sense of great anticipation in my chest, a knot that was being twisted tighter and tighter with each and every passing second; a knot that felt so tight now, I could scarcely understand how I was still breathing. And yet I knew that I would live long enough to see him again. I knew that somehow I would cling to life until his return.

  “And Gran,” Harriet said cautiously, “who are you waiting for?”

  I turned to her.

  “At first I assumed that it must be Matthias,” she continued, “but then I started to wonder whether it might be Edgar. After all, Sebsatian seemed to die, but I figure that might have been a fake-out. And why would you wait for Edgar? You wouldn't tell me last night. I get it, maybe you don't know or -”

  “Oh, I
know,” I told her, interrupting her. “There's only one of them that it can be.”

  “Then -”

  “Take a look at this,” I continued, hoping to distract her for a moment. I reached into my pocket and took out the blue ring that I'd been keeping hidden away for so many years. “It's beautiful, don't you think? I promised that I'd try to dig out some items for you, and... Well, this is one of my oldest possessions in the whole world. Before you ask, I don't even know what type of stone it contains. I took it to a jeweler once, just to see if he could tell me, and he was absolutely flumoxed. He said he'd never seen anything like it before.”

  “Wow,” she said, reaching out and taking the ring from me, before holding it up to get a better look at it in the room's low light, “it's...”

  Her voice trailed off for a moment.

  “Where did you get it?” she asked.

  “I'm going to tell you,” I replied. “If you want to hear the rest of my story, that is.”

  “Are you kidding?” She turned to me, her eyes filled with a sense of wonder and excitement. “I want to know everything, Gran. You mustn't leave anything out, not even the tiniest detail!” She looked back at the ring for a moment. “Did you get this when you went back in time? That's it, isn't it? You got this when you went back to the Second World War and fought the Nazis!”

  “That's not quite what happened,” I told her.

  “And it's some kind of special vampire ring, isn't it?” she continued, clearly letting her imagination run wild. “I bet Matthias got it from somewhere that only vampires can go, and he gave it to you. It symbolizes some kind of eternal link between the two of you, a link that can never be broken.” She stared at the ring for a moment, before suddenly starting to slip it onto her finger. “And -”

  “No!”

  Panicking for a moment, I grabbed the ring away from her before she could do anything foolish.

  “What's wrong?” she asked.

  “Nothing, I just...”

  I took a deep breath and waited for my heart to calm a little. I'd been very wary about showing the ring to Harriet, and I realized now that I should have warned her about its power. Then again, even though she'd been very quick to believe my story up to that point, I wasn't sure how to explain the ring to her. Even for Harriet, that might have been too much to accept, at least without first understanding everything else that had happened.

  Staring at the ring for a moment, I thought back to the very first moment I'd seen it. Or rather, to the first moment I'd been aware of it. After all, its journey into my possession had been rather complicated.

  “Did he know,” I whispered under my breath, “all that time ago? Did he foresee everything? Even this moment?”

  “What do you mean?” Harriet asked.

  “You believed the first part of my story,” I replied, “and I'm grateful to you for that. But what I'm about to tell you, Harriet, might simply be too much. This time you really might think that I'm a mad old woman. In fact, sometimes I even doubt myself.” Still staring down at the ring, I momentarily allowed all the doubts to rush back in. Was I, in fact, just an old fool who'd allowed herself to believe a series of crazy ideas? Out of all the people in the world, why should I have experienced all these incredible things?

  Suddenly, feeling Harriet's hand on my shoulder, I turned to see her watching me.

  “So Matthias exploded,” she said calmly, “or whatever. And you got sent back to the Second World War, where a Nazi guy named Zieghoff assumed you were a witch. Then what?”

  I stared at her for a moment, and after a few seconds my doubts and fears began to recede. I opened my mouth to speak, but then I turned and looked at the open window. The windows were still fluttering, framing the empty space where soon he would stand. He was coming, of that I was certain, but perhaps there was time to tell the rest of my story.

  I swallowed hard.

  “As I looked up into Zieghoff's face,” I said finally, “I somehow felt pure evil emanating from every fiber in his body. And I felt a level of fear that I'd never felt before in all my life.”

  Chapter One

  Chloe

  Paris, 1942...

  As I looked up into Zieghoff's face, I somehow felt pure evil emanating from every fiber in his body. And I felt a level of fear that I'd never felt before in all my life. It was as if I'd found myself facing the Devil himself.

  “A witch,” he said again, letting the word purr a little as his smile grew. “Ladies and gentlemen, fortune favors us on this day. We stand on the brink of the possession of a great weapon. One that will win this war for us forever.”

  I opened my mouth to say something, but no words came out. I remained frozen in place, not daring to move, not wanting to accept that any of this was really happening. One moment I'd been running for my life in the mansion, and the next I was surrounded by robed figures.

  “Well?” Zieghoff continued. “Are you not going to say anything, witch? There's no point denying what you are. You appeared to us in a blinding flash, conjured up as if from nowhere. There is no rational explanation for your sudden appearance. Your clothing is unusual, it marks you out. And I see the fear in your eyes. So tell me, witch...”

  He leaned closer.

  “Are you going to cooperate?”

  Nearby, somebody said something in German.

  Zieghoff turned and replied to the robed man, and then he turned back to me.

  “My associate speculates that you don't fully understand English,” he explained, “but I think that you do. You have that gaunt, unhealthy, ugly English quality to your features.” He tilted his head slightly. “I'm not wrong, am I”

  “Where...”

  I hesitated for a moment, before realizing that I had to figure out what was happening.

  “Where am I?” I stammered finally.

  “You're at my home, of course,” he replied. “This is Paris, under the benevolent rule of the German army. It is most fortunate that you have materialized here. For all of us. If you had instead materialized in England, you would no doubt have suffered a terrible fate. As things stand, our research has worked. We tried many times to summon one such as yourself, and now here you are. God is most certainly on our side.”

  “What?” I asked.

  “You are confused,” he continued. “I see that. Perhaps you need to rest before you are put to work.”

  “To work?”

  He chuckled and took a step back. “It would seem, ladies and gentlemen, that the witch is tired from her journey here. That is to be expected, and we must prove to her that we are gracious hosts. I propose that the witch be given time to rest. After all, we want to see the full extent of her powers, do we not? Nobody benefits if she is exhausted when first she stands before us.”

  “I'm sorry?” I replied. “Powers?”

  “And she protests,” he continued. “I have told you before, witches are no strangers to the lie. We must all be very mindful of her powers to confuse.”

  I looked around at the robed figures, and I was struck by the intensity of their gazes. It was as if they were waiting for something, as if they'd expected my arrival.

  “Perhaps we have done enough for tonight,” Zieghoff continued. “I shall have word of this development sent to Berlin, and tonight I shall go over the plans I developed for this moment. Then, tomorrow, we can begin to truly interrogate the witch and uncover the secrets of her power. For that is how we can harness the power and use it against our enemies. It is how we are going to win this war.”

  A murmur of approval rose from the crowd, as I slowly got to my feet. A moment later, hearing footsteps coming closer, I began to turn around, only for my arms to be grabbed from behind by two soldiers.

  “Hey!” I yelled. “Get your hands off me!”

  “Think of the power contained within her,” Zieghoff continued, stepping toward me as I struggled against the soldiers. “While our scientists work to extract the power of the atom, I believe witchcraft will help us e
xtract the full power of the human body. Imagine an entire army of such creatures, sent to destroy our enemies. We just need a little help to get to that point.”

  He reached out and touched the side of my face. I tried to turn away, but he quickly gripped my chin and held my head tight, forcing me to look at him once more.

  “You're a key, my dear,” he added with a smile. “A key to a door. And that door leads to a whole new level of power. With your help, we are going to not only win this war. We are going to rule the world for the next ten thousand years.”

  Chapter Two

  Matthias

  “You're drunk.”

  “Don't you think I'd know if I were drunk?” I murmured.

  “Don't you think I'd know if you were sober? You look terrible.”

  I reached out to push him away, but somehow I missed and stumbled. I tried to steady myself against the wall, but then the whole floor seemed to tip upside down and I toppled down with a heavy thud.

  Stupid floor.

  “Just because I fell over,” I murmured, taking a moment to stop my head spinning, “doesn't mean that I'm -”

  “You're drunk.”

  “No, I -”

  “Matthias, you're my brother and it pains me to say this, but you are heavily intoxicated. Which isn't a surprise, really, seeing as how you've had a glass in your hand for the past two weeks, without so much as a break.”

  I took a deep breath, and then I slowly looked up at my brother.

  “Hugo,” I said, forcing a smile, “when did you become so utterly boring?”

  “When did you become such a disgrace to the Bane family name?” he replied with that same old sanctimonious tone that always irritated me. “You're literally down on your knees right now, and you can barely string two sentences together. I'm starting to think that maybe I was right last year, when I said that you should get out of Paris. This petty human war seems to be getting to you.”

  “Nonsense,” I said, reaching out and grabbing the side of a nearby chair, and then slowly starting to haul myself up.

  Hugo reached out to help me, but I shrugged him away.