Dark Rapture

by Hauf, Michele

  His little boy’s curiosity surfaced and he pushed on the cover, delighted when it moved. Since he’d become a vampire, his strength had increased immeasurably. Another push, and the smell of roses wafted up to Vince’s nose. Eager to find out what was inside, he pushed the cover back all the way and gasped.

  Chapter Forty-One

  Sebastian sprang for the phone. “Gary?”

  The phone crackled angrily as Gary spewed out, “Where the hell have you been? I’ve been trying to get hold of you all night! Don’t you want to save Vince? What’s going on?”

  “Gary, settle down, let me explain. It’s only nine. We have plenty of time.”

  “Where were you?”

  “I tried to call you but no one answered. I was called in at the last minute. Fury had some changes they needed made before their disk goes to press. I’m sorry, Gary, it was unavoidable. Sit tight, I’m on my way right now.”

  “Good.” There was an empty pause before Gary chuckled, and spoke again. “You can come and bail me out. I’m at the police station.”

  ***

  Ethereal in the pale light of the stars, her face was smooth like milky porcelain, the lids of her eyes shaded pink. Her lustrous mane spread around her head as if positioned by an artist for a study. Her perfume, imprisoned for an unknown amount of time, freshened the musty air and hypnotized Vince.

  The woman he’d dreamed of was lying beneath him, still and composed, unaware of his presence.

  He looked out toward the graveyard wondering how long she'd been here and why. It had been a while since he'd seen her. Since she had disappeared.

  Was she still alive? Of course, she had to be. Francesco said that Sebastian had given her the vampire’s life. But she was so still. The red silk shirt wasn’t moving above her chest. Vince pressed his fingertips to the vein on Scarlet’s neck while his heart beat madly. He felt no pulse.

  But wait! Yes, there it was. It had slowed to a snail’s pace and he held his breath in anticipation of the next beat. It was almost a full minute before her vein again pumped sluggishly against his fingertip and he sighed, relieved.

  Pressing his palm over her cheek he realized that she wasn’t as cold as he’d expected. Though she was chilly, there was a hint of warmth near the center of her cheek. Smoothing his fingers through her silky hair, he wondered if Sebastian had put her here. What had such a sweet face done to bring this sort of punishment upon herself?

  “Oww.”

  A piercing ripple pushed through his skull, blackening his vision. Vince clutched the side of the coffin and closed his eyes. He couldn’t see a thing, even with his eyes open and now all sound ceased. He shook his head, trying to clear it. His body shuddered, and he had the strange feeling that something terrifying approached. Coming closer.

  In his mind his body bent and shuffled to disappear behind a thick bedpost. He pulled the calico dust ruffle over his face until only his eyes showed. He looked down and saw his feet. Only they weren’t his feet, they were child’s feet wearing black leather shoes with a tiny white pearl sewn onto the toes.

  A shadow appeared in the doorway. It crept closer, thickening and darkening as he quivered and pressed his tiny hands to his mouth and began to nibble nervously at the fleshy tips of his fingers. He knew what was coming. The man. He was Daddy’s friend. He came every Friday night without fail. He did things that hurt so bad and then wouldn’t leave until the promise of silence was given.

  “Ahggh,” Vince bit his lip, and felt the cold stone pressing into his forehead and knew he was back.

  Shaking his arms loosely at his sides, he smoothed the hair from his sweating cheeks and forehead. “Shit.”

  He knew what he'd just experienced—the nightmares Francesco said would come with death. But he wasn’t going to give what had happened another thought. Because he knew that if he did he might go mad.

  Back to Scarlet. If Sebastian had placed her here it was certain he'd be back for her. Wouldn’t he?

  Vince’s mind raced. Now was his chance. She lay there waiting the kiss of life. She needed blood to open her eyes and breathe deeply once again. And he wouldn’t deny her anything. For he felt if she were to wake to his blood, then he might become her new master. It made sense.

  “Yes,” he whispered. “You will be mine, Scarlet Rose. And I will love you like you’ve never dreamed.”

  He wrestled with the idea of lifting her out, but upon shaking her gently at the hip he saw how stiff her body was. The ride back to Francesco’s would prove a challenge with a rigid vampire on the back of a motorcycle. He would have to revive her here.

  Not sure of the proper procedure, Vince relied on instinct to guide him. His teeth lowered, slitting open his bottom lip. Carefully, he stood on tiptoe and leaned into the shadows of the coffin to let the blood drip from his mouth to Scarlet’s pale pink lips. At first it pooled there, but then it began to soak in. He hovered with his fingers pressed to her neck, hoping for some reaction. And he was rewarded with a rush of warmth to her skin. Though her eyes were still closed and she seemed unconscious, her skin flushed and he was able to lift her hand and bend it at the wrist. She was reviving.

  He straightened and watched as the last drops of blood were sucked between her lips and her pearly fangs descended. The blood hunger worked automatically. Lifting her under the shoulders, Vince pulled her up and pressed her mouth against his neck, pushing until he felt her fangs pierce his skin.

  “Drink from me, Scarlet. Awaken to your new master.”

  Scarlet fed slowly at first, and then ravenously, until her muscles were strengthened and she could slip her arms around her provider. Lifting her from the coffin, he held her in his arms. He watched the movement under her eyelids as her mind awakened.

  “Oh, Sebastian” she whispered, still groggy. “You’ve come back.”

  Vince walked to the iron-barred window and turned her toward the starlight. “Sebastian has forgotten you, Scarlet, he’s left you here to rot. But you’re safe with me now, because I love you.”

  His words brought her around and Scarlet’s eyes flashed open. She pushed away and jumped from his arms. “Vince!” She wiped her mouth and stared incredulously at the blood smeared on her fist. “Where’s Sebastian? How long has it been?”

  “I don’t know where he is. And I don’t know how long you’ve been in there. Doesn’t matter, because I’m here now.”

  She didn't act as if she appreciated her new master. But she was so beautiful standing there with fists clenched and a smear of blood across her cheek.

  “Scarlet, I can take care of you now. Don’t think about Sebastian anymore. He hurt you and locked you away in this smelly old crypt. He doesn’t love you. He’s a monster!”

  “No more a monster than you are, Vince. What have you done to him?” she screamed and approached with fangs bared.

  He stood firm, not willing to let this woman defy him.

  “Take me to him right now,” she said, seething. “Has Francesco hurt him?”

  “Why would Francesco hurt Sebastian?” Vince was confused. He knew that there was no love lost between the two of them, but Francesco had never alluded to wanting to hurt him.

  “Don’t you know what Francesco is up to? He’s using you to get to me and Sebastian. He wants to take revenge on Sebastian by killing me. You’ve been with him, you must know that!”

  She was lying. Vince wrangled her into his grasp. Her struggles were futile against his advantage of height.

  “You don’t know what you’re talking about. Sebastian was going to leave you here. If I hadn’t come along, who knows how long you’d have been locked away. You might have turned to dust before he returned. Francesco was right, Sebastian is a dangerous man.”

  “No!”

  She screamed but it matched the scream in Vince’s head. The little girl was back and she was screaming, struggling to get free, just as Scarlet was.

  Vince shut his eyes and tried to concentrate on Scarlet, but all he could see were th
e black shoes kicking into the air at the tall shadow that stood over them. He fell to the stone floor, releasing Scarlet, and shaking the nightmare off, he realized that there was new pain in his body. His knee throbbed where she had kicked him.

  Scarlet’s words faded in, becoming louder as the last bits of his tormented fantasy slithered away. “Francesco has polluted your mind. Listen to me, I’m not the enemy, I want to help you.”

  She slipped out of his arms as he nursed his knee, and scrambled along the floor toward the door. Vince pressed hard on the pain and leapt to her just as her hands touched the smooth pebbles outside the mausoleum. He tucked her against his chest and spoke urgently into the thick black hair that the wind blew away from her neck. “I can’t let you go. I don’t want to see you hurt any more. Francesco won’t hurt you, believe me, he told me so himself. Please don’t fight me, Scarlet.”

  She grunted beneath him as her efforts to right herself were thwarted by his manacle clasp around her arms and chest. “He really did a number on you, Vince.”

  Vince pulled her with him as he rammed his back against the stone doorway. The mist gathered around them, strangely scented with her rose perfume.

  “Don’t you see that Francesco wants you to bring me to him so that he can kill me?”

  “No, you’re wrong.”

  “I’m right, Vince. Why won’t you listen to me?”

  She bent and Vince felt the sting of her fangs in the tendons of his hand. He released her for a split second but then locked his fingers about her shoulder. “I’ll prove it to you. And then you’ll see.” He stood, his arms tight about her chest, and dragged her out into the graveyard.

  Scarlet struggled to walk between Vince’s quickly slashing legs but she kept tripping over rises in the uneven earth. “Where are we going?”

  “To Francesco’s,” he said determinedly. “When we get there, you’ll see that he has no ill intentions toward you.”

  “You’re wrong, Vince.”

  He avoided Harry’s tombstone, not wanting to send her into hysterics again. But the iron gate was close and she would see the two bodies by the bike. “If I’m right, will you give me a chance?”

  “A chance at what?” Her feet kicked out as they passed the iron gate and her shoes caught the chain, rattling it down to the lower iron rails.

  “At loving you.” He whispered the truth and closed his eyes, hoping she wouldn’t deny him. She had to accept him. Didn’t she know how he felt about her?

  He set her down by the bike, but held onto her arm firmly, sensing her fear. The blood oozed from his hand where she had bitten him and he licked it clean, surprised that his own blood was tasteless and cold.

  “Vince, I like you,” she started as he swung a leg over the bike and pulled her to him. “But I love Seb—Oh my God!” Her shrieks stung his ears and Vince quickly revved the motor and pulled her to his chest. “What have you done?”

  “They’re just sleeping,” he said quickly, and dragged her leg over the bike.

  She was unable to pry her eyes from the first woman's face, soaked in blood. “She’s dead!”

  Vince shouted over the motor as they pulled away. “It was an accident. Don’t think about it anymore. Francesco’s castle isn’t far from here.”

  He threaded his arm around her waist and pulled her close. She would accept him. After she met Francesco and learned the truth, she would love him as much as he loved her.

  ***

  “This should be good,” Sebastian muttered as he hurried down the marshmallow-white corridor of the police station. He had no idea what Gary could have done to end up in jail, especially since the man was supposed to be worried about his sister and rescuing his friend. What had he done? Snapped his gum too loudly in the library?

  Squeezing through a group of teens obviously too young for traffic violations but, from the dazed look on their faces, old enough to dip into illicit substances, Sebastian approached the desk. He rapped his fingers on the counter and scanned the scene. Two people sat behind the desk, one clad in police regalia, with night stick and badge, and the other a then black woman with gleaming tresses stacked atop her head. She smiled when she looked up and saw him, an instant victim to Sebastian’s charming grin.

  “I’m here for Gary Rose,” he said, and then noticed the articles that sat on the desk to his right: an army canteen, a thick cross of gold metal nearly two feet in length, and . . . a wooden stake.

  “Mon dieu,” he whispered, sensing the worst had happened.

  The woman glanced down a roster of names and made a check with her red pen in front of Rose. “Oh, you’ve come to claim Mr. Loony Vampire Killer, eh? Ha, ha, this guy’s a case, and you’re welcome to him, buddy. Seems he was caught stealing the holy water from Saint Mary’s Covenant Church and then he wrestled the priest for that cross over there. Said he needed it to kill the vampires.” She rattled a ring of keys and walked down the hall. “Haven’t had a vampire killer in here for a while, must be a full moon.”

  Sebastian eyed the equipment Gary had collected. The holy water and cross wouldn’t do a bit of good against Francesco; he'd not been baptized. He smirked, trying to imagine Gary wrestling with a priest for his cross. He’d gone through a lot of work to get a pile of unnecessary stuff.

  “Sebastian! All right, it’s about time. You pay my bail for me? I’ll pay ya back, man.”

  Sebastian pulled out his wallet, found two crisp fifty dollar bills, and laid them on the counter.

  “Come on, man, we have to get going.”

  “Gary, be patient.”

  He scribbled his name across the ledger where the woman pointed and replaced his wallet. The man was getting on his nerves and he wondered if maybe it wouldn’t have been smarter to leave him behind. He didn’t want him in the way when they finally did find Francesco.

  Gary reached over the counter and grabbed his canteen. He fingered the metal cross but the woman waved her finger at him. “Stolen property.”

  “Gary, what in the world were you doing stealing holy water from a church? And the cross?” Sebastian picked up the heavy crucifix and saw that it must have been ripped from the wall; there were four screws in each of its points, two of which were bent.

  Gary’s jaw dropped at the sight of Sebastian actually holding the thing. “Oh man, you mean crosses have no effect on vampires?” he whispered. “I thought that you’d burn or something if you touched it.”

  Sebastian shook his head. “Does it look like I’m in pain?” He was ready to leave. The harsh fluorescent lights were beginning to strain his eyes. He replaced the cross and grabbed Gary by the arm.

  “But what about the holy water?”

  “Gary!” Perturbed Sebastian dropped his arm, snatched the canteen, and sloshed down a few swallows. Then he stood before Gary, water dripping from his chin, waiting for the man’s response.

  “Well, I’ll be—”

  “Can we go now?”

  “Let’s hit the road.”

  Sebastian swiped the water from his chin as they marched down the hallway. “That stuff was awful.”

  “Hmm, must’ve still had some beer left in the canteen from the road trip.”

  “Lovely,” Sebastian muttered and pushed the glass doors open.

  “Wait!” Gary dashed back down the hallway, leaving Sebastian fuming. A minute passed and he returned, beaming from ear to ear, stake in hand. “I almost forgot. This is mine, and I’m not stepping foot in some vampire lair without it.” Fingering the sharpened tip of the makeshift stake, Sebastian swallowed hard. “Fine. It just may come in handy.”

  Chapter Forty-Two

  By the time the motorcycle pulled into the muddy driveway, Scarlet was exhausted. The wind had whipped at her mercilessly, and any breath she had left had been squeezed from her by Vince’s tight grasp.

  He dismounted and helped her to the ground where she stood shakily surveying the ominous castle. It was old and rotting, like the witch’s castle that always stood at the top of a
hill in fairy tales. She saw a flicker of light coming from one of the windows about halfway up the huge stone structure.

  Vince tugged her arm and she followed.

  He’d changed since they’d last spoken. He was no longer the shy, sweet Vince who had once attracted her. Now, he commanded her movements with a fierce hand and a maniacal glimmer to his clouded blue eyes. The stage version of Vince had taken over full force.

  The horrifying image of the two murdered women strewn across the cold ground made her stomach swirl. He had broken the jaw on one of them. How could he do that? This was Vince Lyons, sensitive musician; not a vicious killer. She wondered what he had in mind for her. Was he going to kill her like the others, or just toy with her until he tired of her enough to turn her over to Francesco?

  They approached a door set into one of the two towers and the stench, mixed with humid air, stirred the bile to her throat. She pulled away, pressing her back to the stone wall. Vince stopped and hovered over her.

  “No, I can’t go in there. Just let me catch my breath, Vince. Please.”

  “Scarlet,” he whispered breathlessly, and seemed at the moment to be concentrating on something else. “Yes, let’s stop here. Please . . .” He pushed his head into her shoulder and his hand quivered as it rested on her arm. “Yes, it will pass . . . just . . . concentrate.”

  “Vince? Are you all right? Is it another headache?”

  He moaned against her hair. “Please . . . just . . . hold me.”

  She hugged him, frightened yet worried for what was happening to him. His body shook as he turned his head from side to side, mumbling incoherently, as if a child pleading for forgiveness.

  “I’m sorry,” he whimpered over and over.

  “Vince!” she yelled and shook him until finally she reached him and he came back from wherever he had gone. He stared vacantly at her as if trying to remember who she was and why she was there. Silently, he turned to the window and looked out across the field. His hair brushed over her cheek, sending a cold chill down her spine. Weeks ago she would have been thrilled to be so close to him, but now she was nothing but scared.