Dark Rapture

by Hauf, Michele

  Well, things would be different this time.

  ***

  Scarlet set the diary next to her feet on the burgundy damask divan. One of Sebastian’s melodies drifted from the stereo and caressed her thoughts. The acoustic flamenco pieces he played were romantic and seductive, lively and invigorating, and haunting all at the same time.

  Much like Sebastian.

  She often compared their love making, and the sex, to Sebastian’s various compositions. There was a difference between making love and having sex. Making love was when he took her gently in bed, sharing endlessly his passions and dreams, much like the tientos, the slow gypsy tango.

  Sex was when he pushed her up against the wall and took her from behind, or when she fell to her knees deep in the depths of the castle dungeon to satisfy their constant lust. A fast-paced coupling that she compared to the bulería.

  “I didn’t know you were going to see Vince.”

  Startled out of her thoughts, Scarlet pulled her legs up tight to her body. She could generally sense when Sebastian was near, but if her mind was occupied, forget it.

  He picked up the diary before she had a chance to defend herself. “I thought you were going to see your brother?”

  “Gary does live with Vince.” She pulled the diary from his hands, finding herself angry at Sebastian’s unfounded suspicions. She loved him dearly but he had a jealous streak that blazed like a raging fire through her life. Didn’t he know she could never betray him? “I don’t understand why you have to be so suspicious all the time. Vince happened to be home so I let him know what was going on in the diaries. I did promise him I’d take a look at them, if you remember.”

  Scarlet stared blindly at Sebastian, finding she almost always became transfixed on his face, the movement of his lips each time he spoke to her, the gentle tone of his voice. He had such a powerful hold over her, physically, emotionally and mentally. Over the past year she had breathed, touched and become a physical part of Sebastian. Their souls were one, intertwined in a voracious coupling that would see them to eternity.

  Oh, and he loved her. With all his being.

  But there was always that lingering feeling something was missing…

  “I’m hoping to find something in here that will clue me into my own life,” she said while smoothing her palm lovingly over the diary. “I know it’s in here. Answers. They’ve got to be.”

  “Scarlet.” Sebastian paced to the arched window that overlooked the grounds.

  From the stiffness of his posture and the tense gripping of his fists, she could tell he wasn’t pleased with her. She knew it pained him to no end he could not provide her with the answers she sought. Yet as much as she hated to hurt Sebastian, she could not bring herself to accept her vampirism as is.

  She braced herself for his rebuttal.

  “Your thorns are showing, my love,” he whispered to the window.

  “What?”

  Sebastian swung around, tension pulling his mouth tight. The background music increased tempo, Sebastian’s guitar doubling in a hasty duet. “You know I would do what I can to find these answers you seek.”

  “I know that but—”

  “But why must you so blatantly expose my weaknesses to me? Do you take joy in it?” He started toward her in an angry burst that took her by surprise. “I love you dearly and do everything for you. I give you the moon and yet you always want more. Why can you not accept how things should be and live by my rules?”

  Scarlet dared to meet his defiant eyes. “Don’t you see? It is your rules and constant supervision of me and your…your…”

  Unnerved, Scarlet had to turn around to think or else find herself speechless.

  He laid a hand on her shoulder. “I love you, Scarlet. I want to protect and keep you from harm. Is caring for someone and making their every wish a reality so criminal? Have I become a monster in your eyes again?”

  A monster? For a few brief days after her transformation, Scarlet recalled, yes, she had been afraid of Sebastian and what he had done to her. No longer.

  “You’re smothering me,” she said, feeling the tears begin to well in her eyes. “Can’t you see? You’re always here, by my side, night and day. You go shopping with me. You take me along with you to the studio. I’ve never chosen my own donors, you always pick them for me.”

  If there was one thing that drove a stake between them it was Sebastian’s possessiveness.

  “All I wanted from the beginning was to be together, by each other’s side. But also to learn. To explore and discover what makes me tick. I can’t function with you always hovering over my shoulder. You don’t even trust me to make a good choice when I need to feed.”

  “I want to make sure you don’t end up drinking from some drunk or drug addict, or—”

  “Or what, Sebastian? Or kill? Is that it? Are you so afraid I will go too far and discover there is more to this vampire life than I have seen? That there are wonders yet to discover—”

  “Wonders?” He grabbed her wrist and worked his obsidian stare deep into her own. “By taking the life of an innocent human being?”

  Scarlet flinched, twisting her hand free. “I could never kill, you know that.”

  “Then why do you bring it up? What’s going on with you, Scarlet? Why all of a sudden do you speak these things? Have you been so unhappy all this time? I never realized—”

  “No, Sebastian, it’s—God, I love you, but…” She shook her head, trying to find the words to explain the empty feeling inside. She did love him. Or at least it seemed like love, sharing his life, his bed and his blood.

  Was it a lie?

  “You always push yourself to the limit.” She spoke carefully. “Your music. Your career, your love for me…but never your vampirism. I know there’s more. There has to be. It’s like I sense it. Like the blood that flows through my veins, there is a flow of life passing the two of us by. Don’t you feel it, Sebastian?”

  “I feel nothing.”

  He paced past Scarlet, stopping by the doorway. “Damn!” He slashed the back of his hand across the wall, sending tiny fragments of age-old stone across the room.

  Scarlet stood her ground, preparing for his temper.

  But it never came. Sebastian strode away rubbing his fist in his palm.

  Was that it? Was he giving up so easily?

  “No!” Scarlet raced down the hallway, determined not to lose the fight. “You finish this, Sebastian DelaCourte! I will not stop my search for the truth.”

  He stopped by the wall, and Scarlet walked up behind him, sensing he still simmered.

  “But...but I don’t want you to be angry with me.” She tried to cool his mood. “I do this for both of us.”

  He swung around, slashing his hand across the candelabra on the wall, sending candles flying and hot wax sputtering across the stone walls and floor. The hallway went black, save for a narrow window behind him. Moonlight caressed the side of his face and hollowed his eye sockets.

  He approached Scarlet slowly, his eyes never wavering from hers, calm and wickedly casual, as a panther who stalks his frightened prey. Forced against the wall, Scarlet pressed her head to the cold stone.

  “For the both of us,” he said in a cool whisper. His hands encircled the base of her neck, never pressing, but gently preying upon the pulse in her throat. “Or perhaps it is for your own gain? Discover some hidden vampire powers within yourself, practice and gain skill, and then leave your unskilled lover, the man who can no longer function as your equal. Is that what would make you happy? To be rid of your blood master and out on your own?”

  “No,” she whispered, afraid of what his gentle hands could do. He possessed a rare yet volatile temper. “Sebastian, I know I can never survive without you. My heart…it is yours.”

  He looked past her, over her head. It seemed a lifetime before Sebastian spoke.

  “I just wish it was I who could give these elusive answers to you. I want to be everything to you.”

 
His hands slipped down her body and fell in defeat at his sides.

  Saddened this regal man felt lacking, Scarlet smoothed her palm along his cheek. “Don’t forget, Sebastian, I do this for you.”

  He pushed against her body, burying his face in the thick darkness that ran over her shoulders and down across her chest. Their hearts began to beat as one. Their vampire blood synchronized and the same incredible pull Sebastian had toward her vibrated throughout Scarlet’s body, tempting her to pull him close.

  Clutching her tightly, he whispered in her ear, “Promise me nothing will ever tear us apart.”

  “I promise. Nothing. Never.”

  “Kiss me.”

  Sebastian lifted her and pushed her against the wall, securing her legs around his waist, and he pulled the shoulders of her dress down to her elbows. She shuddered as his mouth sought out her breasts, nipping and biting gently at her nipples.

  “Will you promise me forever?” he said in heated breaths.

  Scarlet plunged her fingers through his hair and pulled his kiss into a forceful press against her breasts. “Forever.” His fingers slipped down and found the pleading pearl between her legs and began to satisfy her unspoken desires. “I promise!”

  Chapter Four

  Spain, 13th Century

  And so a handful of castle inhabitants joined in the great hall of the castle to witness the wedding nuptials of Esmarelda and Prince Adriano.

  Adriano stood before the priest, who motioned impatiently for Esmarelda to hustle over to his side. She hastened down the stone steps, her black skirts rustling softly against her legs. The thrill of the moment clouded over her dismal worries and she smiled. But again she only received quick glances and bowed heads. It is as if it were my funeral, not a wedding, she thought.

  She felt the warmth of a tear pool in her eye. No, her father’s voice whispered, you must be brave.

  Even Adriano did not smile as she took his side. His touch was icy. A cool grin cracked his pale face and she forced a smile. This will not be so horrible, she thought. He is not the beast Paquita has alluded to. He cannot be. He is a prince.

  The priest, a rotund, red-faced man, started immediately, as if he had done this a thousand times before in the same castle. The ceremony was Spanish, though some words were hard to decipher for Esmarelda spoke a rough Castilian Spanish. There came a point of understanding when Adriano pulled a band of worn braided silver from his pocket and slipped it down two of her fingers before settling it onto the third. She looked to him shyly. She had no ring.

  A cool grin affixed to his face, Adriano raised his hand and wiggled his ring finger, already adorned with an ornate gold and ruby ring.

  Relieved, Esmarelda turned back to the priest as he took both she and Adriano’s hands and placed them together. More indecipherable words were spoken and then the priest made the sign of the cross before the two of them. A general hum amidst the watching people prompted Esmarelda that the ceremony was over. She was now Princess of Castle Trastámara, wife of Adriano el Sangriento.

  Though what came next was indeed perplexing.

  The priest hastily took his leave, gathering Bible and cross under his arm, as did the entire crowd. Esmarelda turned to witness this crazy bustle and by the time she turned back to the altar the room was empty. In less than two minutes she stood alone in the lower dungeon with her new husband who had retreated up the steps to his throne where he now sat casually with his leg again propped over the arm.

  “Step forward,” he said in a deep whisper that chilled the very flesh on Esmarelda’s neck. “Look into my eyes and see what it is you have taken as your betrothed. Kiss your new husband. Just…this once.”

  His words curiously frightened her. …see what it is you have taken as your betrothed.

  As if he were some kind of beast...

  Esmarelda slowly closed the distance between she and her dark prince. Her slippered footsteps made not a sound on the cold stone. Yes, she must kiss him, as she must do other things later in the marriage bed. And she wanted to kiss him. Truly she did. For she had never before kissed a man and dreams could only tantalize. This would finally be the answer to her longings.

  She bent forward, meeting his eyes as he made no move to assist in her endeavors. He tested her again, as he had when he’d had her stripped before him. This test I can pass, Esmarelda thought as she closed her eyes and felt her lips touch the coolness of Adriano’s mouth.

  He remained motionless as she pressed gently, then a bit firmer, becoming familiar with the feel of a man’s lips against hers. He smelled good, a mixture of spice and...cedar, she thought. And there was another scent, a deep, mannish scent that she had noticed before whenever her father sat close to her. She liked the feelings associated with the smell; strong, calming, male.

  The strength of a man’s mouth pressed to hers, sent forbidden shivers coursing throughout her body. Feelings and sensations that were no longer forbidden, for she was now a married woman. And she easily reveled in them.

  Esmarelda startled as the warmth of Adriano’s lips was intruded upon by something cool and hard. She pulled back with a gasp. Two long teeth had just lowered between his lips! They were sharp and slightly curved like that of a wolf.

  “Ah ha!” Adriano laughed at her fright. “You see what it is you have wed, my lovely one? Come close again. If you dare. I’ll not bite. Just yet.”

  Her eyes grew wide. Bite? “What—”

  “Vampyre is what I am called. I am immortal,” he said as his hand balled around the tip of the chair arm. “A little more light to see the creature?” With a flick of his hand four torches lit behind him. The heat of the sudden flames bruised Esmarelda’s trust with the unrealness of what had just happened.

  He seemed genuinely pleased at her fright. “A silly trick, nothing more. The powers of the mind are astounding. But how is it you have not yet run screaming from the room?”

  Yes, how is it, she wondered.

  Esmarelda pressed her palm to her chest. Her heart beat frantically. She was frightened to be sure, but…curiosity also vied to beat a double rhythm against her ribcage.

  Vampyre? She had heard the folk tales. They were wild, fearless creatures that roamed the night, killing and drinking blood from helpless victims. But were they not beasts? Creatures of the night? Hideous and ugly and they kept to themselves?

  This man was a prince!

  No, impossible. But yes! He sat there casually observing her, his ghastly white fangs as real as carved stone glimmering in the candlelight. Smooth porcelain skin, skin that was—strangely—not cold as the grave.

  Esmarelda pulled herself straight and took a deep breath.

  “My father taught me never to judge a man until I’ve lived a year in his troubles,” she said proudly and stepped back up the steps. “You say you are a vampyre, and so I see by your teeth that you may be. Am I to understand then, th-that I am to be your next victim?”

  “You are my lady wife, Esmarelda. I shall never call you victim.”

  Adriano swung his leg down to the floor and held a hand out, which she reluctantly took. He looked her over from her toes, up and around her waist, slowing over the frantic rise of her breasts, then met her misted eyes with a satisfied smile.

  “Rogero has done well this time. I am very pleased.” He tilted his head and a thick veil of his hair swung freely. “I am also pleased at your strange acceptance of me. Though I wonder now if the shock will be delayed and perhaps come later when you’ve had sufficient time to consider what sort of creature you have wed.”

  Yes, will it? Be brave, Esmarelda, her father’s words resounded within the confusion storming her head. Have courage.

  “I shall treat you as justly as you treat me. I am your wife, I have vowed to serve and care for you—”

  “Are you not afraid of death?”

  He rested his chin on steepled fingers. Adriano’s eyes were black as a child’s nightmare and so very cold. She could barely sputter her next words. “Is
that your intention?”

  Adriano pulled her hand up to his lips and feathered them across her knuckles as he surmised her fear. A gesture so gentle it sent a surprised shiver down her arm. Yet it seemed he took the greatest pleasure from her fear.

  “A vampire must drink blood to survive, my lady. I can do so without killing. But know this: You are my wife. You shall serve me as I see fit, in my bed and as a cache of life that I depend on for survival.”

  She sucked in her lower lip. The teasing sensation he aroused with his touch played havoc with her emotions as her conscious struggled to make her see clearly. You are to be the food for this man. He has every intention of drinking your blood to survive. The thought made her blood run cold.

  “To have a man sink his teeth into your neck is a painful thing,” Adriano said as his lips pressed a scintillating kiss to her hand. “But I promise the rapture will come quickly and you will grow to crave it.” His fangs grazed the pulsing blue vein beneath her flesh. Esmarelda pulled away, clutching her hand to her breast.

  “Esmarelda,” he whispered and drew his eyes slowly across her face. “I like that name. Esmarelda.” His wicked laughter echoed about the stone walls of the dungeon.

  “My lord?” She felt her courage waning.

  Adriano took her hand and led her quickly up the stairs. He opened the door and yelled down the empty hallway. “Paquita, where are you, you old hag? I know you’re lurking round the corner with your ears pricked.”

  At this rude calling, Paquita did indeed appear from around the corner.

  “Take my bride to my chambers and prepare her for our wedding night.”

  Adriano caught Esmarelda’s hand as she slipped out the doorway. He kissed it and granted her a smile that was at once delicious and so very evil.

  ***

  Los Angeles, present

  Alexandre Lyons II did have quite a flair for embellishment. Scarlet couldn’t be sure how much of the diary was truth and what was just plain fiction. But she could not deny it was compelling. She felt for Esmarelda, and Adriano, even if he was a creep. A creep who seemed to command the castle’s torches with a wave of his hand. A vampire skill? Or just another embellishment?