Dark Rapture

by Hauf, Michele

  Sebastian slipped his sunglasses on and tossed his hair across his shoulder. There was something about the way Vince had just acted. Not the way he had so proudly stood up for Scarlet, but the pain. He had bravely tried to hide it. What was really going on inside that man’s body?

  Shaking his keys to locate the one for the car, Sebastian whistled the tune he had just played twenty or thirty times. He looked over the hood of the Corvette and imagined Scarlet standing across from him. Smiling, she put her fingers to her lips and kissed them, blowing the precious tidbit across to him. Then she giggled and tossed her hair over her shoulder, knowing that she was teasing.

  Her image faded and he swung around. What was that? Had someone been walking behind him? His eyes scanned the darkened carport, seeing more than a normal human could, but not finding the source of the hollow footsteps he thought he’d heard. The overwhelming smell of oil and grease lingered, but no other recognizable scent,

  Sure that no one was around, he sat in his car and started the engine. For a moment he stared past the steering wheel, his gaze intent on the grungy brick wall before him. No more sound.

  Satisfied that if a mortal had been near he’d have smelled him, Sebastian backed out.

  ***

  Francesco’s eyes followed Sebastian’s car from behind dark-tinted sunglasses and car windows tinted a deep gray. It had taken much persuasion on Matthias’s part to get him out during the daylight. But, assured that the sun’s rays would not penetrate the shaded windows, Francesco had agreed, knowing that this venture would feed his revenge.

  “Any trouble?” he asked as Matthias slipped into the driver’s seat in front of him.

  “I tripped but he didn’t see me. It was close, though.” The boy breathed heavily and turned to his master. “I’m sorry.”

  Francesco tapped the bottom of the window with his index finger, watching the traffic pass by him at a manic pace. “Sebastian must be slipping. He should have been able to smell you a mile away, my love. Especially a human marked by a vampire.” He turned his attention to the glass of red wine that rested on his leg and mused, “Perhaps living in the human world for so long has weakened my best adversary.”

  “Perhaps,” the boy agreed with eager eyes.

  “So, did you find anything out?” Francesco leaned forward and fingered the soft curl that fell over the boy’s forehead. It felt like a dove’s feather in his hand, a stark contrast to the cruelties he’d been subjected to since succumbing to the life of a vampire.

  “Yes, there is another man who is in love with the same woman.”

  “The one who drove out?”

  “Yes, with the blond hair. He seemed angry at Sebastian about the woman.”

  “Hmm."

  A rival would make things interesting, Francesco thought. And more exciting. The idea that Sebastian’s powers were waning made him realize that his mission would be like taking candy from a baby. But this other gentleman would provide a much needed bit of adventure.

  “Did you hear her name?”

  “Yes, master!” The boy bent his knees under him, rising over the seat in hopes of receiving a congratulatory pat on the head. “Her name is Scarlet.”

  “Very good, my child. You shall be rewarded. Now, drive on before we lose Monsieur DelaCourte.”

  Chapter Eight

  Brandy’s. The hot spot for rising young musical stars and rock n’ roll wanna-bes.

  On Friday nights, like tonight, it offered new bands a chance to show their stuff without forcing them to work the boulevards to sell tickets for their shows. They weren’t paid much, but when the chance was offered, they grabbed it up like a skid-row bum being tossed a handout. The exposure, the opportunity to play for even a half hour, was enough to satisfy the hungry bands competing for a morsel of stardom in the overcrowded business of rock n’ roll.

  Scarlet maneuvered through the crowd, searching for Gary. The pink neon lights that zig-zagged back and forth across the black ceiling afforded little light down where she stood and it took her a while to adjust to the darkness. The blaring noise crunching out of the speakers and the rush of bodies confused and annoyed her. Her patience fizzled and soon she began, like others, to push and shove her way through the crowd until she arrived at the bar situated at the edge of the dance floor.

  She watched as the dance floor vibrated wildly with hordes of people, and stood on tiptoes to see through the boggle of heads. Gary wasn’t dancing, from what she could see.

  A waitress, dressed in a short, pink sequined skirt pushed by her, her eyes glazed from the noise and smoke. The lighting near the back of the room was zero and Scarlet knew that if Gary was back there she would never find him. Almost ready to give up, she finally spotted his thick mop of hair. He was sitting near the railing up in the balcony, waving wildly until she noticed him.

  Pushing through the hustle of bodies she made her way to the stairs, keenly aware of the male eyes that followed her sashaying hips wrapped snugly in maroon velvet. But instead of feeling uncomfortable, she was surprised that she felt incredibly sexy, and yes, a little naughty. She’d never been in a bar by herself. And in this one the males definitely outnumbered the females by more than two to one.

  Gary sat across from Vince, who was nervously eyeing the throng of dancing bodies below, and another man with a long curly beard whom she wasn’t familiar with. Gary leaned into the aisle, chatting with a few rowdy-looking guys, but when he saw her coming he slid in and signaled for her to sit next to him.

  She sat and listened, while at the same time she recognized many famous faces sitting around her. A tall brunette with killer tight jeans leaned against the wall sliding his fingers down the thigh of a thin woman with over-teased hair. Hadn’t she seen him in a music video? And that one with the dark glasses and nose ring, he sang that song she’d been humming lately. There were famous faces everywhere. Now she felt a little nervous and even foolish after her slow parade toward the table. Her brother’s casual attitude toward all the stars that moved about them amazed her.

  He leaned over and whispered loudly in her ear so she could hear over the noise, “Kinda neat, huh, hanging with all the stars?”

  “Neat? This is incredibly cool. I had no idea you knew anybody famous. How do you keep from running around begging for autographs from these people?”

  He laughed. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m just as star-struck as you. But everybody has their idols and it’s nice to know that they all probably feel the same way that you and I do. That’s what's so cool about Brandy’s. Everybody comes here to do a little stargazing, even the stars.”

  “I think I’m going to like having a celebrity for a brother.”

  Gary hooked his arm around her shoulders and squeezed. “You just want an autograph, don’t you?”

  With her hands over her heart, she swooned, “Oh please, Mr. Rose, could I?”

  “Hey, we gotta get moving,” Vince said. “Are you going to watch from backstage, Scarlet?” He shyly looked down as if he realized how desperate he sounded. It had been more of a plea than a question.

  She looked from Vince to Gary and then scanned the crowd. Backstage wouldn’t provide nearly as much action as the balcony offered. Much as she wanted to encourage Vince, she couldn’t resist the temptations up here.

  “No, I’ll be fine up here. I’m going to get a drink. Maybe I’ll meet some real stars.”

  ***

  There were certainly at lot of women visiting this establishment. And the way they dressed. When had the long skirt gone out of fashion? Francesco ogled the ladies in their skinny heels and skin-tight clothing as they pranced by him giggling, some glancing his way and smiling to reveal perfect teeth. Some even blew a kiss.

  “Marvelous,” he muttered to himself, and then looked to Matthias. The boy was pouting behind the wheel of the limo. So be it, he thought, and nodded at a passing lovely.

  She returned his smile and then her gaze faltered as it traveled down his shoddy frock coat and torn bree
ches. As she passed by, Francesco looked over his clothes, wondering what had caused her distaste. The silk he wore had been imported from Belgium. Nothing finer. Stupid wench, she knew nothing.

  “Anything yet, master?” Matthias stuck his head out the window and inquired sweetly.

  “Huh? Oh yes.” Francesco frowned as he gazed at the gray brick building. The neon Brandy's sign flashed in hideous shocking pink. “He’s in there, I know it. But I don’t want to go any farther. I don’t want to reveal myself until the time is right. But let’s hope that he’s in there with his lovely Scarlet.” He pushed her name through his mouth like sausage through a grinder. “I want to see her tonight. I need to put a face with the name.”

  ***

  Scarlet spotted the blue neon bar against the back wall and made a beeline for it. She ordered vodka, just a touch of grenadine please, and remained to survey the darkened corners of the hazy upstairs room.

  A pool game went on nearby under a heavy cloud of smoke colored purple by slashes of neon light. Rough-looking men of all shapes and sizes, dressed in leather and tattered jeans, hung around the smoky game area, watching, and placing bets as the night grew darker. One of them tilted his beer mug and downed the whole thing, leaving his bushy red beard glistening with alcohol.

  And then Scarlet saw him.

  He sat in the far corner beyond the pool tables.

  Trying to be as casual as possible, she observed Sebastian out the corner of her eye while sipping cautiously at her drink. A halo of light outlined in dirty silver metal hung over his head, casting a smoky haze over his hands, which rested casually on the Formica table.

  His hair slipped out from beneath a dark bandanna tied across his forehead, and large gold hoop earrings dangled near his face. Dark sunglasses encircled his eyes, though it was really much too dark for shades, but in keeping with the coolness factor of the crowd they went unnoticed. As usual, he looked incredible and she felt her breath grow shallow with anticipation.

  Three women surrounded him; two sitting across the table, and the other standing over him trying desperately to get his attention by swaying her ample hips close to his face in time to the music.

  But his attention was directed at the neon bar and Scarlet.

  She could feel the hairs on her neck prickle, knowing his unnerving stare radiated out from behind the darkened shades. She wished that he hadn’t noticed her but had the feeling that he’d been watching her for quite some time. As she breathed in deeply, the smoke from the man next to her entered her nose and nearly choked her and she had to turn away to clear her senses.

  The last time she’d seen Sebastian was at his house. The dreadful, stormy night when he’d played that horrendous trick on her. It had been a trick, hadn't it? How else could he have gotten his teeth to look like that? It felt better to believe that than to believe what might really be true.

  She eyed the bartender’s busy hands, but then something made her turn back and stare directly at Sebastian. The contact from him shot like a laser beam across the room. It was as if they were the only people in the crowded bar. The sounds of music and mayhem melted into the background, leaving a tense silence to bridge the distance between the two of them. A tremor of desire ran through her body, weakening her legs until her feet slipped from the rung on the stool and her black spike heels dangled above the floor.

  Did she dare approach him again? Or would it end disastrously, as usual? There was so much she wanted to say, to ask him. But to do it all with a cool, rational mind, that would be impossible, because as soon as he opened his mouth and spoke in that sensual French accent, she’d be gone. Under his spell again.

  With an explosion of sound, Wild Child took the stage and Scarlet jerked around to watch, thankful that she now had a reason to avoid Sebastian, at least for a while. But she kept him in her peripheral vision as she stood up to watch Gary break into his first riveting licks that brought the house to their feet.

  Wild Child’s music was a mixture of gothic rock and erotic musings, with a bit of funk thrown in for an undeniable surge of power. Scarlet felt the beat permeate her body. She was ready to dance. She started toward the front of the balcony, then stopped.

  Sebastian wanted her to come to him. She could feel it. Her heart pounded, begging for submission, while her legs struggled to carry her away from him.

  Vince started to sing but she was too distracted by Sebastian’s presence to listen. Everyone around her was dancing, their bodies bumping against hers as she stood as if a statue in the center of the floor. No matter how hard she tried she couldn’t make herself walk toward the balcony. She had to go to him.

  Some inexplicable force turned her body toward the back of the bar and slowly she walked to Sebastian’s table. As she approached he motioned the girls away with a flick of his hand and a few unheard words.

  His solemn, unflinching expression did not change as she stepped before him. He swept his hand over the table and she sat across from him, tucking the maroon velvet skirt under her knees. She was thankful that she couldn’t see his eyes, for she knew if she could her hidden longing for him would surface and she would turn to mush.

  “Hi.” She spoke softly. “They sound great, don’t they?” She tried to think of something else to say but he was making her increasingly uneasy, since she was unable to see his fixed stare.

  “Wild Child is an excellent band. I think they’ll do quite well. In fact, I think I’ll be working with them in the near future.”

  You obviously haven’t spoken to Gary lately, she thought, quite sure that her brother wanted nothing more to do with Sebastian DelaCourte.

  Scarlet squirmed in the turquoise vinyl booth. He had some sort of control over her, she was sure of it. Maybe he really was a vampire. Didn’t vampires have supernatural powers?

  Is he controlling my mind right now by making me want him?

  “Are you here by yourself, ma cherie?” he asked, his voice conveying the desire that twisted her heart in its clenching grip.

  Why did that pet name make her feel like a possession?

  “Until Gary gets off stage I am.”

  He leaned forward and the eerie blue light hit him directly in the face, casting a radiant reflective beam off his sunglasses. “You shouldn’t be alone. There are a lot of weirdos walking around. Didn’t you notice all the men staring at you?”

  “Yes, I did. And I’ll be fine.” Was he jealous?

  Instead of feeling glad for his concern over her, Scarlet felt resentful. She didn’t belong to him. Who was he to tell her what to do? “I don’t need anybody to look after me,” she said flippantly.

  “Then leave.” He slouched against the seat and looked past her to scan the pool game. “You’re obviously a self-sufficient woman, able to take care of—”

  “I am,” she cut him off abruptly, having no intention of letting him win this round.

  Without so much as a glance back, she left. But she knew he was watching her, following her every step as she marched away. Only when she had turned the corner and was sure that his table was out of view did she breathe a sigh of relief.

  Maybe I’m not so interested in him, she thought, deciding that the bewitching attraction she’d felt for him before had been a fluke. It was obvious that the violent side she’d seen on their first date was his most dominant attribute. And to think he would suggest that she couldn’t handle being here by herself. Who did he think she was? Some shy little maid that needed protection?

  She squeezed through the mass of gyrating limbs and pushed her way to the balcony railing where she could watch Wild Child. Women and men danced aggressively on the floor below. Young men, most with long hair and earrings, banged their heads in time to the beat like woodpeckers out of control. Seductively dressed women paraded about, and already a line had formed around the front of the stage—a wall of hungry fans.

  She watched Vince for a while. His head sprayed sweat over the fans as he rocked and jumped across the stage. Gary was right; Vinc
e’s on-stage personality was the complete opposite of his sweet, shy, normal self. All across the front of the stage, women held their arms up in the hope of touching him for a split second. He knew what they wanted and he gave them their money’s worth by stepping close to the edge, just close enough to let them fondle his boots, then he’d slip back with a mischievous grin and a twinkle in his eye, leaving the women screaming for more.

  She found herself intrigued by this wild side of Vince. The sweat dripped down his face and over his chest to his tight stomach. Tongue dipping out to trace the corner of her mouth, Scarlet imagined tracing her fingers down his wet body. To hold him close and let him control her the way he controlled an audience.

  Then Vince disappeared behind Gary and her fantasy was abruptly stopped by her brother’s intricate guitar solo.

  The band’s motto, made up by Gary and Vince, was to feed the rock n’ roll addict’s habit. And Wild Child did just that.

  The floor beneath her feet vibrated with the pounding rhythms of dancing bodies. She was crowded closer and closer to the railing as everybody around her danced to their individual set of instructions. Moving away from an all too eager dance partner, she lost her footing and bumped into an unyielding man. A cold rush of liquid spilled down the side of her body as his hand lost hold of his glass. From her hips down to her thighs a flood of vodka soaked quickly through her dress.

  “Oh no!” She pulled up the fabric to examine what had happened and inadvertently granted the extremely drunk man a great view of her thighs.

  “Here, lemme help you.” The punkish young man, sporting a nose ring and an armful of skeleton tattoos, slid his hand down her waist and hooked his bony fingers under the wet velvet.

  A wave of nausea engulfed Scarlet as his fingers pressed into her thigh, and her heart started pounding twice the speed of Gary’s solo. She tried to push him away but the undulating crowd was making it hard enough for her to keep her balance.