The Demon Count

by Anne Stuart

  In silent wonder I watched the last dying rays touch the city with fairy light. In two short days, housebound days at that, I was being beguiled by this absurd, waterlogged place, and I could feel a treacherous little clutching at my heart as the sun dipped below the horizon.

  A deep sigh escaped me, almost as if I watched my life slip below the surface with it.

  "Why so sad, Carlotta?" Luc's voice came quietly across the room, making me start a bit out of my chair in fright.

  "You scared me to death!" I said reproachfully after I had managed to catch my breath. My heart was still flut­tering strangely beneath the low-cut bodice of the new dress as I turned and faced my guardian, keenly aware of those hooded amber eyes taking in every detail of my appear­ance with a disturbing mixture of amusement and fascina­tion.

  He looked no different than before, despite the horrid rumors surrounding him and the brief stirrings of infatua­tion that had taken me by surprise last night. Indeed, as I took in his slim, elegant, black-clad length, the pale face with the black hair curling around it, the odd mixture of the sensual and the spiritual playing over his arresting countenance, I could see how people could believe such absurdities as Mildred whispered. In the early dusk I half believed them myself.

  "Not quite to death," he corrected gently, moving into the room with a sort of graceful glide. "You must strengthen your nerves if you are to survive in this damp place. Otherwise you will be seeing ghosts in every corner." He moved to the window and looked out over the still ca­nals, then turned back to me. "Who knows, you could turn into a completely nerve-ridden mental incompetent and I would be forced to have you committed to an asylum. Leaving me with your healthy fortune." And he smiled, that beguiling smile that made his lightly spoken words all the more chilling.

  Lucifero laughed then, a hearty, amused laugh with none of the mockery that had marred it previously. "I wish you could see your face, my dear ward. It is so expressive!" He left the window and moved closer to me, so close that I could feel my breath constricting in my chest, almost as if my stays were too tight, and I was not blissfully, sensuously free of the armor. He looked down at me from his great height, and there was an expression of tenderness in those hypnotizing eyes. "You must learn, mia Carlotta, not to be­lieve everything I tell you."

  I stared up at him in mute silence, unable to say a word. He had hit the nail squarely on the head. I believed every word he said, and I had the unfortunate suspicion that I would continue to do so.

  Hastily I cleared my throat, hoping to break the spell he cast over me with such little effort. "I will try not to," I said gamely. "But I am very gullible."

  He laughed again, and released me from the hypnotizing gaze. "I know, little one. I know." He moved away, and I let out a silent breath of relief. "It amazes me that one with your intelligence could be so."

  The stillness then was awkward, to say the least. I watched him with sudden suspicion. "Intelligence?" I echoed in my lightest voice. "No one has ever accused me of that before." I batted my eyelashes in what I hoped was a dim-wittedly entrancing manner.

  Luc was unimpressed. "Liar," he said softly. "But it is of no importance. For the time being you may keep your se­crets, and I will keep mine." He took my arm in the light­est, politest of gestures, and it was all I could do to keep from pulling away from his scorching touch, it unnerved me so. That sardonic little smile pulled at the corners of his mouth once more. "If you have no objections, my dear, a visitor awaits you in the east parlor. A very correct young Austrian soldier, I believe."

  "Holger?" I demanded, delight sweeping over me. Here was rescue from my more wicked side.

  "I have no idea." The boredom in his voice was belied by the quickening of interest beneath his drooping lids. "We shall soon find out."

  An uncomfortable thought struck me. "You'll let me see him alone, of course?"

  "Of course not," he corrected gently. "Since I have de­cided to dispense with a duenna there is nothing for it but that I must serve in her place. Young ladies of good breed­ing do not hold conversations with young gentlemen un- chaperoned."

  "But I do with you!" I protested, and then wished I had kept my very large mouth shut for once. The smile on his face, instead of chilling me, warmed me in a most un­comfortable manner, so that I entered the room where Holger stalked around with a deep blush staining my cheeks. Fortunately Holger, like most men, assumed my blushes were caused by shyness at meeting him once more, and he puffed up like a pouter pigeon as he bowed low over my hand, all the while unable to keep himself from stealing worried little glances at the tall, saturnine presence of my silent guardian.

  I had wanted to throw myself onto Holger's manly bosom, so relieved was I at his return, but Luc had success­fully put a damper on my high spirits, and I greeted my noble swain with a speaking look from my large blue eyes and a firm pressure from my hands. Holger didn't seem to notice.

  "I am delighted to meet you, Count," he greeted Luc with great seriousness, pumping his hand energetically for all the world as if he hadn't called the man a spawn of the Devil a few short days ago. "Your friendship for the Austrian Empire has been an excellent example for your not-so-amiable countrymen. I wish there were more like you."

  I couldn't help letting out a little choked gasp at this, and quickly tried to turn it into a cough. One Luc del Zag­lia was all the terrified town of Venice could stand.

  Luc hadn't missed my reaction. Indeed, nothing seemed to escape those seemingly somnolent eyes. He smiled at Holger with great charm. "I thank you for your kind words, Captain. I am always happy to be of assistance to the glo­rious Austrian Empire and their representatives in our little city." The sarcasm was so obvious I wondered how Holger could miss it. But Holger, I was fast learning, was one to see only what he wanted to see, so he nodded in an odiously pompous manner and took my suddenly residing arm in his. "If you will excuse us, Count. Charlotte and I have much to discuss."

  He started to lead me into an adjoining room, but Luc moved smoothly in front of us, detaching me from the Austrian with so light a touch I scarcely would have no­ticed if I hadn't been so overly aware of everything about my guardian.

  "Miss Morrow," the emphasis was light but unmistaka­ble, "would love to talk alone with you but unfortunately it cannot be." He shrugged, and the gesture was almost a par­ody of an Italian stage character's. "Society has certain rules, and we, alas, must follow them."

  Holger looked affronted, taken in by Luc's absurd play­acting. "I've never heard that Luc del Zaglia was one to abide by the rules of society," he said sharply.

  The demon-count smiled slightly. "Ah, but that is for myself, Captain. When it comes to my innocent young ward, the rules are quite different. I am sure I can trust you to obey them." With that he led me to one of the more uncomfortable sofas in the room and with gentle force seated me beside him. I could feel the heat emanating from his body, and it so disturbed me I barely heard a word of the long, tedious conversation I held with Holger. Since I had found out previously that the Austrian did not seem to be overloaded with intelligence it required only half my brain to keep up with him; the other half was busy trying to figure out how to move farther from Luc, how to appear unflustered when his nearness was making my pulses race, my heart beat far too quickly and the breath constrict in my lungs. Never before had I had such a reaction to a man and the thought of such strange and unaccustomed weak­ness on my part bothered me almost as much as the symp­toms themselves. Try as I would to forget, my mind kept returning to last night in the moonlit garden, and his care­less, affectionate caress that had overset me so.

  I cast a surreptitious glance at his profile, the hooded eyes, delicate nose and high cheekbones, the expression ar­ranged in an attitude of courteous attention to Holger's boring monologue. Could it be possible that he really was a creature of darkness, and the absurd and undignified things I was feeling were the results of a . . . a spell?

  The idea seemed laughable, but I didn't want to la
ugh, Love was a comfortable emotion, what I could learn to feel for Holger, for Jean-Baptiste, perhaps. Warmth, affection, a yearning to take care of the silly creature. I could never love anyone that left me so bewildered. This quickening of my pulses and heat in my stomach could have nothing to do with those warm feelings that Theresa had reluctantly allowed existed between men and women. It must be the climate, I told myself. I was unused to the long, slow, warm days and the damp, chilly nights. I was also unused to such strange and overpowering creatures as my guard­ian. As soon as I got to know him better he would lose his appeal, his awe-inspiring qualities. He would be just an­other man, no wiser, no handsomer, no more enticing than any other. Once I understood exactly what he was, every­thing would be fine. I only wondered whether I would ever be able to do so.

  Holger said only two things during his hour-long visit that were able to distract me from my worried thoughts of Luc. The first was his mention of the murders.

  "Another one gone a few nights ago, I hear," Holger said, with an uncomfortably sharp glance at my impassive guardian. "We're having the devil of a time catching up with this insane monster, but never fear, we will!"

  "You think the man's insane, then?" I questioned abruptly.

  Holger frowned at my daring to question his judgment. "Obviously," he replied shortly. "Only a madman would drain innocent young girls of their blood. All this talk of a vampire is so much nonsense. Simply some poor fool gone over the brink. We'll catch him soon enough."

  "Let us hope so, Captain," Luc said gently, a smile hov­ering around his lips.

  "In the meantime, Charlotte must not venture out unless she is accompanied by me," Holger announced with the air of an occupying army. As indeed, he was, I thought un­comfortably. "I will pick her up tomorrow in the afternoon and take her on a small bit of sightseeing."

  "I beg your pardon," Luc corrected with great charm, "but Miss Morrow will tour Venice with her guardian and anyone else I choose to deputize. As for tomorrow, I'm afraid a rival has been before you, Captain. She is already bespoken."

  He flushed an unbecoming red. "You allow her out with just anybody? Have her cancel the appointment!"

  "I do not think Monsieur Perrier would appreciate that," Luc murmured. "Perhaps the next day, if she is not too tired."

  "She is going with Jean-Baptiste Perrier?" At Luc's nod Holger let out an angry snort. "That little idiot! He cares more about his clothes than his country! I would think you would find her more of a man, Count." Obviously he thought himself the perfect candidate. Luc was not im­pressed.

  "My dear Captain," he protested, "how was I to know of your existence when this previous appointment was made? My so-dutiful ward had failed to mention your obviously lengthy acquaintance, and she neglected to tell me entirely that you planned to call on us. So naughty!" He chucked me under the chin with one long finger, and I glared back into his impassive eyes. He was not pleased with me for omitting to mention Holger, and I tried not to let that un­nerve me.

  "I had always heard that you were a friend to Austria, Count." Holger was still sulking. Luc had obviously had enough of my admittedly boorish suitor, and he rose with languid grace, holding out one slim hand in obvious dis­missal.

  "I am a friend to Austria," he said gently, "and to France. Indeed, I am a friend to all, unlike some of my hot-blooded compatriots down at the Caffe Mondelo. Revo­lutions are so tiring."

  "You would not find them so if you were trying to con­trol them," Holger snapped, shaking the count's hand with obvious distaste, then bowing low over mine and slobbering all over me. "The day after tomorrow, Charlotte," he an­nounced, more a threat than an invitation. "No excuses."

  I smiled sweetly. "I would be delighted, dear Captain. Till Saturday then."

  A curious silence reigned over the room when the cap­tain had departed, shown out by the very correct Thornton. I had the feeling Lucifero Alessandro del Zaglia was not pleased with me. It was to my great surprise that I watched him look from the ancient bloodstone ring he was contem­plating and smile at me with his full charm.

  "And where did you meet your stalwart young suitor?" he questioned idly, with an idleness I knew was false. "I had no idea you were so well acquainted with members of the occupying army."

  "Do you disapprove of the Austrians?" I countered sweetly.

  "I disapprove of no one and nothing," he returned lazily. "I do not make judgments. You didn't answer my ques­tion."

  "I met Holger on the coach. I'm sorry if I didn't think to mention him, but I doubted I'd ever see him again." I hated to apologize but in this instance I felt Ms well- concealed annoyance might be justified.

  "You underestimate your charms, my dear. Why shouldn't he follow up your no doubt delightful relation­ship?"

  I hesitated, but only for a moment. I was being baited, a thing I disliked above all else, and Luc was a master at it. "Because the moment I mentioned my guardian's name all my fellow travelers turned pale and crossed themselves in horror. My sturdy swain was visibly shaken at the thought of you. However, he seems to have recovered in short or­der."

  He seemed completely unmoved by my recitation. A gentle smile played about his thin, well-shaped lips. "How very interesting, to be sure. And where did Von Wolfram join the coach?"

  "Just north of the border. Why do you ask?"

  "Mere curiosity, little one. How extremely coincidental that Holger von Wolfram should pick your coach of the many that pass through on their way to Venice. I would advise you, my dear, to be wary of the good captain. He is not entirely the fool he appears." He rose and sketched a negligent bow in my direction. "And now, my dear Char­lotte, I am desolated to inform you that I must leave you once more this evening. I'm sure Mrs. Wattles will provide you with an excellent repast."

  "But . . . where are you going?" I had the temerity to ask, momentarily bewildered. I had certainly displeased him greatly—"Charlotte" was so cold and unfriendly com­pared to the warmth of "mia Carlotta."

  He smiled that charming smile once more. "Why, to visit my mistress," he replied sweetly. "And to gamble away your fortune. Buona notte, little one." And he was gone, leaving me with a curiously bereft feeling I told myself was relief.

  Chapter Ten

  My tour of Venice the next day was the first rela­tively normal time I spent since I first arrived. Jean- Baptiste Perrier, nattily attired in a coat of bottle-green linen, fawn-colored trousers, and gleaming boots, was all attention and subtle flattery, treating me with the combina­tion of deference and incipient attraction that I had come to expect from the men I had met. Only Luc seemed im­mune to my charms. This was no doubt a much needed blow to my disgusting complacency, but the thought made me frown.

  "But why do you look so fierce, ma petiteT' Jean- Baptiste murmured solicitously as we skimmed the dark green waters of the Grand Canal in an exceedingly elegant black gondola, past the pink and gold fairy palaces that leaned this way and that in the spring sunshine. I admired them with impartial approval, but secretly I saw nothing to touch the decadent, eroded, brave beauty of Edentide. "You aren't a victim of . . . of seasickness, are you?" The idea creased his handsome brow, no doubt from the worry that I might disgrace myself and soil his too-elegant clothes.

  "No, I'm a born sailor," I replied, smiling at him with my best smile. Hoping to obtain some information from him, I threw caution to the winds. "As a matter of fact, I was thinking about my guardian."

  My companion had been leaning closer than I would have deemed proper, but at this he leaned back, an unread­able expression on his attractive face. "Indeed?" His voice was not encouraging.

  There was nothing like coming to the point, I decided. "How long have you known him, Monsieur Perrier? What is he really like? To tell you the truth, the man terrifies me.

  He permitted himself a smile at that, showing a set of small, perfect teeth. "I'm sure that is just what dear Luc has in mind. He loves to frighten people. It's only a game with him, Mademoiselle Morrow. You mustn't take him
seriously. Underneath his rather frightening exterior Luc del Zaglia is just another aristo, with too much money and too much time and too little to occupy himself. So he spends his time frightening ignorant peasants and silly little girls." He shrugged, letting out an indulgent little laugh that grated annoyingly on my nerves.

  "As for what he really is like," he continued smoothly, "who knows? Without a doubt he is frighteningly intelli­gent. I have never seen him do a kind deed or say a good word about anyone. His sexual and financial appetites are reportedly rapacious, his sense of honor perhaps strong enough when he cares to exert it. The games he plays are silly, Mademoiselle Morrow, but underneath it all I think Luc del Zaglia might be a very dangerous man. I would advise you to be careful."

  "It isn't really up to me, is it?" I replied, somewhat net­tled. "He is my guardian, completely in control of me and my fortune. He could do anything he pleased."

  "You need have no fear for your fortune, Mademoiselle Charlotte," he soothed, his brown eyes nonetheless perking up at the mention of money. "Luc has no need of it. He's unbelievably rich. Perhaps the richest man in Venice."

  "But he gambles all the time! He said he has lost his fortune," I protested.

  "Luc does indeed gamble all the time. And he always wins. That is part of the cause of his satanic reputation. Half the people he plays with believe he can't lose, because he's made a pact with the Devil. Personally, I disagree."

  "Do you play with him?"

  "Of course. And I lose. But one day I won't." There was a note of steel beneath his light tone, a note that made me suddenly very uncomfortable, rather like looking into a still pool of water and seeing a dead toad floating on the clear blue surface. I was to remember those words long after­ward, when it was almost too late.