Dark Rapture

by Hauf, Michele

  The chick in Vince’s arms smelled of musk and cigarette smoke. She wasn’t Scarlet, but right now he couldn’t complain.

  He slugged the rest of his wine down and pressed against the back of the girl’s head, prompting her to nip at his nipples.

  “Vince.”

  Vince peeked out of one eye.

  Rico had removed his coat and sat like a king on his throne. His slave girl bent to her knees and pressed her palm to the swell rising in the crotch of his black velvet pants. But he caught her wrist in a movement so fast Vince flinched.

  “Now,” Rico said to Vince. “For your initiation. Get the lights, will you?” He nodded toward the door.

  With a strange sense of what was to come, Vince swallowed and stood, bringing the redhead with him as she continued to grope and kiss him on his chest and neck. Something simmered inside. He was nervous. He had never employed the methods used for obtaining the rush Rico had raved about. To kill in fear.

  With a flick of Rico’s hand the neon flashed out, leaving only two black tapers glowing on the wall above the couch where Vince had been sitting. He set his empty wine glass on a gold-trimmed table and clutched the redhead, pushing his palm through her hair until he found the pulse pounding sluggishly on her neck.

  He wondered what her name was but then figured it wouldn’t be such a good idea to know. He never learned his victim’s names. It kept things much simpler. She had no idea what was to come. She didn’t know she would not leave this room alive tonight. As far as he was concerned, her name was supper.

  “Kiss me,” she pleaded. Vince did, though his attention remained focused on Rico.

  Blake looked up from the arms of his lady, his dark, penciled eyes flashing like a cougar peering out from jungle cover. The perfumed panther. He too looked to Rico, awaiting the master’s command. Rowdy paid no attention as he stripped the woman in his arms of her dress, though Vince was sure he was also waiting for a signal of sorts because he had yet to partake of her blood.

  “Remember, Vince…” Rico lifted the woman’s head from his lap and smoothed his thumb over her parted lips, producing a whimper of desire from her. “Fear.”

  The jewel-eyed vampire turned back to his supplicant, pressing both palms to her cheeks. “Look at me,” he whispered and all female eyes, including Vince’s redhead, turned, mesmerized by Rico’s regal actions. Rico cooed and whispered softly, hypnotizing all into his web of dark seduction.

  Vince’s heart pounded madly. He pushed away a webbing of red hair that glowed like savage fire in the candlelight. From his vantage point he could see the girl kneeling before Rico begin a silent scream as Rico’s long daggers appeared before her, slashing through his lower lip, dripping thick droplets of blood onto her bare legs.

  Clutching his captive’s wrists tightly, Rico turned to Vince, winked, and then pulled the girl up, sinking his weapons deep into her neck. The woman in Blake’s arms screamed but he was too quick. He pushed her to the floor and began the kill.

  Vince tensed. His girl pulled away from him in a fever of high-pitched screams. For a moment he could only stand and watch as she turned from him to Rico and then to Blake, watching as her friends were devoured before her. The music was lost in her hysteric yells, blending into a tribal wail of guitars and female terror.

  Vince jerked her around by the wrist and she looked to him with wide, tear-stained eyes, her screams silencing, as if to plead for mercy.

  “No,” she whispered, shaking her head.

  Her state of heightened fear flushed her cheeks to an appealing blush. She pulled away from Vince, ripping the material, but he was able to grab her hair and fling her to the wall behind him. He pinned her wrists up near her head as her screams pierced his ears. She kicked out, catching the toe of her shoe on his knee, but Vince pushed it away and slammed his body against hers, immobilizing her struggles.

  Eager to silence her manic screams and journey deeper into the dark side, Vince bit through tangles of red hair, opening the vein into his mouth. He lost himself in the taste of hot life that he had come to crave, savoring and swallowing the adrenaline-laced crimson fountain that sprung forward against the roof of his mouth.

  Her heart burst sooner than he expected. Thick gushers of lifeblood seeped down his chin and dripped onto his white shirt. The swoon took control and the woman slumped to the floor as Vince reeled backward, lost in unholy rapture.

  The red satin stripes on the walls blurred into dancing sticks and the candle flames flashed vigorously. A distant humming grew sharp in Vince’s head, bringing a drunken smile to his lips and a bone-dead tingling to his extremities. His legs buckled and he sank to the floor, hitting the couch with his back. He sat there in the throes of drugged ecstasy, his head spinning and the smile on his face growing, as all sensations numbed and then immediately became extreme.

  The blood moved swiftly through his body, tunneling through his veins at a speed so fast it was like a jolt of lightning. His head filled with a wavering rhythm that pounded in his ears, vanquishing all other sounds that threatened to destroy the ecstasy.

  It was a long time before sounds started to fade in, as if a finger were being dragged slowly across a rotating record.

  “Huh?” Vince blinked.

  Rico knelt before him. At least it looked like Rico, he was a little blurred around the edges, but one vibrant blue eye glimmered close to Vince’s face.

  “I said, it’s like nothing you’ve ever experienced before, isn’t it, Vince?”

  Still in a daze, Vince noticed Rowdy walked past him carrying a limp body over his shoulder. The image quickly faded as Vince’s head bobbed and he fell to his side, landing his head on Rico’s leg.

  “Take care of this one too, will you?” Rico nodded toward the redhead sprawled at their feet and Blake grabbed her wrist and dragged her along with the girl over his shoulder.

  Vince focused on the sway of black chiffon overhead. Things were becoming clearer, the rush subsiding. He struggled to hold on to the adrenaline’s last dizzying effects by hugging his arms tightly across his chest. “I really like this place.”

  “What about fear?” Rico pulled a handful of Vince’s hair away from his face, seeming to enjoy the texture slipping across his palm.

  “Oh, man.” Unable to put to words the incredible high he had just experienced, Vince closed his eyes and tried to recreate the tremendous surge that had raced through his body. Adrenaline. “I think I could become addicted to the stuff.”

  Chapter Eleven

  An inventory of the cupboard above the sink recorded only two boxes of red Jell-O. Anthony made a mental note to pick up a few more boxes next time he went for groceries. It was the only actual food item he needed to buy for his employers, though, he did pick up things for himself.

  Upon hearing Sebastian pass through the kitchen Anthony peered over his shoulder. The benefit concert began in two hours and he had to be at the Universal Amphitheater an hour earlier to meet with the press.

  “Has she risen yet?” the vampire asked dully.

  “No sir. Would you…like me to check on her?” Anthony cringed, knowing Scarlet was in the dungeon, and all that was kept down there were two coffins. The idea of peeking inside a sleeping vampire’s coffin did not sit well with him.

  “You know better than that, Anthony.”

  Anthony’s sigh could have been heard a mile away. He picked up the wooden spoon he had been using to stir the lemonade he’d just prepared.

  “Is the limo ready?”

  “Yes, it’s waiting outside. Is there anything else you’ll be needing, sir?”

  “Well, you can quit with the sir bit.”

  “Certainly, sir…er, I mean Sebastian.”

  “There is one thing.” Sebastian dipped his finger into the lemonade pitcher, and then tasted the liquid. “Mm, it’s getting there, Anthony. When she does rise—and I’m sure it will be soon—please remind Scarlet she promised to be at the concert for me tonight. I’m sure she can forgo readi
ng those damn diaries for one night.”

  “Oh yes, sir, ah, Sebastian. I’ll do that. I’ll drive her myself.”

  Sebastian absently rubbed a fist into his palm. He seemed lost in some other world, worried. “See that you do, Anthony. Don’t let her leave this house by herself.”

  Sebastian paused in the carport, pressing his forehead to the cool surface of the stone wall. You are being foolish.

  This whole thing with Scarlet trying to find these elusive answers had him on edge. He was actually jealous! Worried someone or something would steal her away should she learn the truth.

  But was there a truth?

  Sebastian wasn’t so sure there was more to the vampire life they lead. He’d read all the stories and myths, had heard the whispered secrets. That was all fiction. Wasn’t it?

  He himself did not have the capability to change to mist and slither under doors. He could not transform into a bat or fly. Crosses were no more effective against repelling him than red Jell-O. Garlic—well—that stuff did repulse him.

  It was all a big lie. The vampire legend was false, untrue, a myth cultured by dark stories and frightened peasants. He was the closet thing to a mortal human as he could be. Except now blood sustained his life and for some reason, slowed the aging process to nearly a halt.

  Why?

  He hadn’t a clue. No one had been there after his transformation to ‘teach him the ways’. Strange as it now seemed to remember the past, it had actually been Scarlet who transformed him. Go figure. He had fallen in love with her a year ago—no—centuries ago. Hell, it was damn confusing. All Sebastian knew was after he transformed Scarlet a year ago, days later she was kidnapped by a spirit and traveled back through time where she eventually met up with him. Except, he hadn’t been a vampire then. He had been young and mortal, celebrating his nineteenth birthday—in eighteenth century Paris.

  And then Scarlet had changed him.

  A weird twist of fate. One he would never understand. But had always accepted.

  After his transformation, Scarlet had literally disappeared. He had lain there alone on his bed—in the eighteenth century—wondering what the hell he was going to do. And since that day, he had existed alone as a vampire, never once encountering another of his kind. He had no teacher, no mentor.

  Now, Sebastian would not discount the fact that there might be things unknown to even him.

  But he did know one thing. He could not survive without Scarlet. She was his soul. Life would cease to exist without her by his side. Whatever it took, he would do anything to ensure his never losing her.

  ***

  Gary looked down the tech sheet for the video shoot that Sebastian had provided. Everything was as it should be, though Vince would have to check over the lyrics and shots of himself. This had to be done by tomorrow in order for Sebastian to keep things on schedule. Why was Vince being such a jerk?

  This was one more thing Vince felt he hadn’t the time for. Gary was now sure things had to change. Vince no longer fit into Wild Child. Gary and the other band members were not eager to see Wild Child move into the macabre direction Vince wanted them to go.

  He tossed the clipboard onto the table and walked to the patio doors. It had rained all afternoon and the sky was still a steely gray. Streams of water running down the window momentarily blurred his vision. Where was Vince?

  In answer to his thoughts, the front door slammed.

  Vince ambled into the grand room, a splash of brownish-red covering the breast of his white shirt.

  “What the hell?”

  Vince bounded up the stairs, raising a hand in acknowledgment. “Hey, Gary.”

  Gary raced behind him, following him into his bedroom. Appearing from his closet with a suitcase, Vince tossed it on his bed and went to his dresser to rummage through the drawers.

  “What is this?”

  Vince tossed a couple of T-shirts onto the bed. “A suitcase, what does it look like?”

  “No!” Gary rushed over to the dresser and gripped Vince’s shirt. “I mean this? This…this blood! My god, Vince, you’re getting sloppy. What’s going on?”

  “Well, duh, Gary, isn’t that a surprise,” Vince said mockingly. “Finding blood on the shirt of a vampire. Truly” —he pressed his fingers to his chest— “I am shocked.”

  He pushed Gary’s hand away and tossed a couple pair of jeans toward the bed, landing them close to the suitcase. His eyes were dull and half-closed, as if he’d had a long night.

  Vince’s insipid attitude didn’t faze Gary. It was to be expected. “Are you going somewhere?”

  Vince strode into the closet and starting pulling pants from the shelves and shirts from their hangers. “I’m moving in with Federico Bellange. Don’t try to change my mind.” He reappeared with an armload of clothes and shoved them into the suitcase. “It’s best for both of us. With Rico I have a family. He’s my own kind, you must understand.”

  “But—”

  The suitcase groaned as Vince stuffed his clothes in and started on the zipper. “Don’t worry, man,” he said through gritted teeth as he struggled. “I don’t want there to be hard feelings between the two of us. I want you to stay here and take care of the mansion for me. Everything’s paid for, all you gotta worry about is keepin’ it reasonably clean. I wouldn’t kick you out.”

  Kick you out?

  Gary couldn’t believe Vince’s nerve. “I thought I was your family, Vince? And Scarlet. What about Scott and Rob? Is it so easy for you to just leave your old friends behind once you find new ones?”

  “Oh man, come on. I thought you would understand. Living with my own kind is the best thing for me. Federico is a vampire!”

  “Yes, but—”

  “Besides, you’re the one who has been freaking over every thing I do lately. I mean, shit, sending your sister to spy on me?”

  “Wait a minute—”

  Vince waved a dismissing hand through the air. “You’ll never understand. You’re a mortal. The same mortal who carries a wooden stake in the trunk of his car wherever he goes. You really think I like driving around with you knowing you’re packing a stake?”

  “So that is what this is about?” Gary pushed a hand through his tight curls to occupy the fist flexing for some action. “Don’t you trust me? Vince, you know I would never use that stake on you. It’s…it’s for protection! You know, from…the others. You don’t think you’re the only one out there, do you?”

  Vince slammed the suitcase to the floor but a piece of the bedspread was caught up in the zipper. With a furious huff, he kicked the leather case and pulled the material from the metal teeth in a rip of cotton.

  “Vince! Would you calm down. What the hell has gotten into you? Geez. Since you’ve become a vampire you’ve developed such a temper.”

  “Yeah?” Vince pushed a shaky hand through his hair and tossed it back over his shoulder with a defiant flip. “Maybe Rico’s right. Maybe I should start looking for something else. There’s a guy who lives with him and he’s got a band. They’re looking for a singer—”

  “A singer? What’s this? You’re not only leaving me, but you’re leaving Wild Child too?”

  “I didn’t say that…I just—”

  It was too late for control or understanding. Gary unleashed his anger. “I should have expected it. If you’re not leaving then consider this your chance. I don’t want a blood-crazed killer—”

  “Go on! Say it.” Vince lunged forward, his jaw tightening to expose the tips of his razor-sharp fangs. “You don’t want a blood-crazed vampire in your band. Hell, Gary, I’m surprised you didn’t kick me out a long time ago.”

  “Don’t blame all this on me, Vince Lyons. You’re the one who has changed. You’ve been gone every night since this happened. You never have time for the band—”

  “Like you’d even care!” Vince’s arms flailed wildly as he ranted. “You never want to give my lyrics a try, Gary. Never!”

  Gary matched his friend’s stare as they sq
uared off before each other. “I’m not gonna have the band playing your bloody vampire songs!”

  A deathly silence fell over the room as Vince drew himself to his full height, his eyes glowering over Gary’s huffing figure. Slowly, as if calculated, his teeth descended, slipping smoothly over his taut lips.

  Gary gulped. Vince had never threatened him like this before. He’d never once felt intimidated by or scared of his friend. Until now. But he didn’t back down.

  “Didn’t think it would ever come to this,” Gary said in the dead calm.

  Vince remained, his teeth glimmering viciously.

  “Get the hell out,” Gary hissed as he held Vince’s gaze. “And you can forget about coming to rehearsal next weekend.”

  Vince’s upper lip crinkled to a sneer, exposing the full length of his fangs. He bent for his suitcase and stepped up to Gary, his blood-tinged breath playing foully over the man’s face.

  Feeling he would be sick from the stench, Gary swallowed. He wondered for a moment if the victim had been young. Probably. And pretty too, knowing Vince. “You make me sick.”

  “Yes,” Vince spoke calmly. “I suppose I do. But isn’t it strange your own sister, a vampire too, does not?”

  “She doesn’t take the lives of innocent humans.”

  Vince shrugged and walked away. “Give her time, Gary. Give her time.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Spain, 13th century

  Anticipation shivered through her blood as footsteps trudged toward her bed chamber. They were markedly slow with no incessant groaning. He was weak.

  “Your sacrifice is as great as mine,” she whispered.

  Slowly the chamber door creaked open and Adriano entered. His eyes scanned the floor, his shoulders slumped to pull his body down into a meek shadow before her. His hair hung limp near his sunken cheeks, his fingers dangling at his thighs.