Dark Rapture

by Hauf, Michele

  She stared at him, aghast, yet strangely excited by his actions. He pulled his t-shirt over his head, revealing a hard muscled, pale chest that shivered to goose bumps as the rain lightly dusted it. Drawn forward to kiss the hand that waited her, she was suddenly halted by a shooting pain in her chest.

  “What is it?” Vince pulled her close, his movements shaking the canopy of leaves and showering them with warm rivulets of rain.

  “I…I don’t know. Oh, it hurts so bad.” She pressed her knuckles to her breast, trying to lessen the choking pain as it wavered like a wild animal trapped inside her ribcage.

  Overhead, a crow cawed. Not this way.

  “Oh, Vince, I…I can’t do this.” She pulled away from him and ducked under the hanging branches.

  “No, Scarlet, don’t go. It’s just…you’re scared!”

  She closed her car door and swallowed, watching as Vince waited her return. No, I can’t, she thought. I can’t betray Sebastian.

  ***

  “Oh, man, are you all right?”

  Sebastian jerked his elbow to shrug off the roadie who’d come to his assistance. The sudden clutch in his gut had literally pulled him to the floor. “No problem. Just a little exhaustion,” he lied, and allowed the man to help him to his feet.

  A black wooden box containing his guitars wheeled past him, en route for the waiting truck outside. The roadie gave him one last questioning rise of his brows before turning and grabbing hold of the side of the box to help its direction.

  Settling against the brick wall, Sebastian breathed in the shadows like a restorative elixir. The pain in his gut, upon further perusal, seemed to come more from his heart. Was this what it was like to have a heart attack? Could a vampire even have one?

  “What the hell is going on?”

  Sebastian closed his eyes. He couldn’t sense her. Had Scarlet left? If she were anywhere in the arena he should have been able to pick up on her presence. Why would she leave? Were those damned diaries so compelling they meant more to her than him?

  “No.” The adrenaline rush from the performance, the numbing roar of the crowd, they still worked to disorient Sebastian’s thoughts. “You are thinking like a fool again. She probably had good reason for leaving. I hope.”

  ***

  The radio had announced the end of the concert over an hour ago. Scarlet sat in the garden behind the mansion, the heady scent of roses calming her apprehensions. Her ears picked up the sound of softly treading feet and her skin flushed over as her body sensed the arrival of her blood master.

  “I looked for you after the concert.”

  “I’m sorry, I wasn’t feeling well. I had to get some air. What are these for?”

  Sebastian laid a bouquet of white roses bound with a soft red ribbon on Scarlet’s lap and sat beside her on the iron bench. She had lit two garden candles, one to either side of the bench, and the golden light caught in Sebastian’s eyes like molten lava simmering in the center of shiny black coal.

  He traced a finger over a velvety white petal. “They are used by mortals as a gesture of love, caring, and kindness. Though I fear I may have borrowed the tradition as a means of pardon from all I have done wrong…whatever that may be.”

  Scarlet folded a petal between her fingers and sniffed the frilly roses. She wondered where Sebastian had gotten flowers so late at night. Ah, the perks of being a celebrity.

  “You gave me roses once before, when we first met. Of course, that was an apology, too. But what are you apologizing for now, Sebastian? You’ve done nothing wrong.”

  “Really.” His voice was drained, emotionless, lacking in belief of her words. “Then why this void between us lately? You don’t seem to care for my company any more, chèrie. My heart suffers to understand what is going on with you. Please, tell me why you’ve been in such a state of discontent. Is it…is it the diaries?”

  One bloom dispersed and fell to the ground near her bare toes and she shivered at the tickle of petal to flesh. She couldn’t decide herself why she felt so indifferent towards him lately. She was just in flux, things were changing inside her that couldn’t do with interference from the outside. Especially Sebastian. And now there were a few new knots in the rope. Vince, and the compulsive urge to discover more about herself.

  Should I tell him Vince kissed me? That he had every intention of making love to me? No. Sebastian would be outraged.

  And what of her strange compulsion to go see Vince in the first place?

  “I don’t know. Maybe I’m just in a slump. It happens to us women occasionally, you know. Don’t worry, I’ll get over it.”

  “When?”

  “Soon…maybe. Just don’t try so hard, Sebastian. It’s nothing against you personally. I don’t loath the sight of you.”

  “Yet, you don’t love me, either.” He slid his palm along her cheek and forced her to look at him. “You can’t say it anymore, can you?”

  “Say what?”

  “That you love me. Come on, Scarlet, look me in the eye and say it. I know you can’t.”

  She looked into his black eyes and found it impossible to hold his piercing gaze any longer than a few seconds without feeling the strain of their relationship fighting to tear her away.

  If only I knew you, Sebastian. What you are about, who you are, and what you were. I don’t understand my own vampirism, and until I do, I’ll never begin to understand you.

  “I do, Sebastian.” Her fidgeting pulled free more than one soft petal, causing the entire rose to separate and disperse into her palm.

  She could feel his gaze running over her face, waiting her acknowledgment of his worry. When their eyes meet, she saw her face mirrored in the candle glow’s reflections. A brief flash. A reminder her soul was not her own. It had been created by Sebastian’s vampire soul.

  His sigh wrenched her heart.

  Scarlet looked away, knowing she couldn’t face him. “I’m going to Gary’s tomorrow night. He has a new girlfriend he wants me to meet.”

  “Really?” Sebastian replied studiously. He had taken to fondling the petals in her lap. He was saddened at her lack of compassion and it showed, but he tried to turn the other cheek. “And how is Gary doing?”

  “Oh…he’s better. I’m sure Wild Child will find a new singer soon.”

  “What’s this? Is Vince no longer with the group? They seemed fine the other day during the video shoot.”

  “Gary kicked him out. I’m surprised you hadn’t noticed the changes in their relationship, Sebastian. It was a mutual thing. Wild Child wasn’t happy with the direction Vince was trying to take them. This is a good thing for all involved now that I think on it.”

  Sebastian nodded and settled back against the bench, stretching his arms across the iron filigree. “I see. Well, that’s lovely. I wonder when they were going to let me know.”

  “It just happened. I’m sure Gary was going to tell you, but…well…you know, it was a sudden thing.”

  “Hmm. I wonder if they’ll want to put the video out with Vince in it? And what about Vince?”

  Scarlet detected the strange curiosity in Sebastian’s voice. Why did I have to bring him up? She tossed a spray of petals across the lawn. “What about Vince?”

  “I mean, how is he? “

  “I don’t—how would you—why would you assume I knew anything about Vince?”

  “I was just wondering.” He crossed his arms over his chest and stretched his legs out across the grass, crushing the delicate petals beneath his boots. “You’ve been living and breathing the story of his blood relatives. I thought perhaps you had talked to Vince.”

  “Well, I…I know he’s found some new friends.” Her heart choked as it was squeezed by an invisible hand, very similar to the feeling she had felt outside Rico’s mansion. Scarlet ignored the sensations. She knew Sebastian could read her emotions. “Umm…Gary told me. They’re vampires.”

  “Vampires.” This seemed to interest Sebastian, though he immediately recovered his curiosi
ty by nodding and looking off past the wall of yews Anthony had been pruning into submission. “That’s fortunate for Vince. God knows he could use a companion who understands him.”

  “Yes.” Scarlet’s heart beat rapidly.

  A companion. Wasn’t that what you wanted to do? Learn more about Vince, understand him? Yeah, but you didn’t have to let him kiss you. “I’m going to go in, it’s still damp out here from the rain, I don’t like it…”

  “Scarlet?”

  She stopped behind the bench, waiting Sebastian’s inquisition, wishing she had the courage to just keep on walking.

  “Kiss me before you go in, will you?”

  She brushed stray hairs from her face and turned to her lover’s arms. A kiss was a simple enough request. Isn’t that all Esmarelda had wished? But as she bent to Sebastian and his lips touched hers she was struck by a disturbing thought. These were not Vince Lyon’s lips. And why should she even care? But she did.

  “Good evening, Sebastian.” Scarlet slipped away to the house passing Anthony on the way.

  “Will you still be wanting the wine, sir? Is Scarlet retiring so soon?”

  Sebastian picked up the discarded flowers and pressed them to his chest, feeling if he should hold Scarlet tight that she would bend and break as the roses. “Yes, she is. And no, Anthony, I’m afraid I won’t be needing the wine.”

  “Forgive me, but is there anything wrong? Are you and Scarlet—”

  Sebastian’s sigh halted Anthony’s concern. “She is growing further from my life every hour that I breathe, Anthony.” He wrapped his hand about the flower heads and twisted, tossing the beheaded stems to the ground.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Spain, 13th century

  The coffin lid creaked open in a slow yawn. It was midnight. Adriano could sense it in his blood. A chill ran throughout his body, signaling he must feed.

  He could recall the image of his wife last night as he left her lying on the wolf’s fur coverlet. She had given of her passions so freely, never asking for anything in return. Save for love.

  And he did love her.

  But he had been near starvation. His blood hunger grew uncontrollable and he had raped her of her blood, drinking greedily of the precious liquid that was mead down his throat, never wavering as her body began to wilt and fall motionless in his arms.

  He had taken too much. And he wasn’t even sure if she still lived.

  It would serve me justly if she was dead.

  He did not deserve such a precious treasure as Esmarelda’s love. After all the innocence he had destroyed he deserved nothing more than death itself. But if only it were possible. I could walk out into the sun. Yes. But before I do that, I must go. I must look upon her one last time.

  If they haven’t already carted her away to the coffin maker’s shack.

  “Damn this curse! Why did I not take my own life years ago instead of allowing all this pain? So many have suffered because of me.”

  He passed by Paquita on the way up the stairs. She spoke not a word, as usual, except she did not lower her head in a subservient gesture. No, this time she stared straight into his eyes, her own hazel eyes seeming to say, how dare you. How dare you take such a precious life.

  Finally she mumbled, “She grasps dearly for life. I have alerted Rogero.”

  “Very good,” Adriano was able to answer, then rushed quickly upward so Paquita would not see his tears.

  The candle near her bed had burned down to a wide puddle of tan tallow and the flame fought for life as much as Esmarelda did. She let out a tiny gasp as Adriano sat beside her and tried to lift her hand to him.

  Seeing her struggle, Adriano pressed his lips to her hand and then to her mouth. “Do not try to move, my lady. You will tire yourself.”

  A tiny smirk curled her parched lips. “I have gone beyond tired, my lord. Death…sits upon my shoulders.”

  “My love.”

  “Do you…truly love me?”

  “With all my heart. I wish things could be different. For once in my life I truly feel the power of the witch’s curse. My love is dying, and I am unable to stop it.”

  He buried his face in her hair, it was dry and brittle, the life having been literally sucked away by him.

  “If only I could change things,” he whispered. “If only—”

  “You can, my lord. Change…” She choked and her rasping breath crossed Adriano’s hand. “Change…me.”

  Adriano stopped the flow of tears and looked into his wife’s eyes. “Change you into a vampyre?”

  “Sí, make…me…like you. Give to me eternity so…I may…spend the rest of…my days with the man…I love. Can you do it?”

  “Perhaps.” Adriano stood and paced the room, pausing momentarily to stare across Esmarelda’s wilted figure. Change her? Now why had he never thought of that before? Surely it was possible. There were rumored many more vampyres on this earth.

  Change her!

  But could he?

  How else had the rest of the vampyres been created? It was certain they had not received a witch’s curse as he.

  “Sí!” He dashed to her side and hugged her so tightly she let out a painful gasp. “We must try. But you must swear to me if it works you will tell no one. The people of the castle would never forgive me if I were to work the curse upon one so innocent. They would be outraged. Do you promise me?”

  “The devil take my soul, I would promise anything to have eternity with you, my lord husband.”

  ***

  Los Angeles, present

  Scarlet stepped inside the black walls of the hallway and headed for the candlelight in the main rooms of the Decadence. She found an empty stool and ordered a vodka-seven, trying not to be too obvious, though she felt as though the whole crowd had turned to stare at her entrance.

  A live band pumped tenacious rhythms to the crowd. Scarlet thanked the heavens Sebastian and Gary hadn’t decided to play such obnoxious music. But as she relaxed the music began to wear on her and she found the beat alarmingly sensual. The beat of a donor’s heart pumping for her to take them. Boom. Boom. Boom. Take me. Taste my life. Discover the mysteries of my…death.

  Had Adriano done it? Changed Esmarelda into a vampyre so they could forever be in each others arms?

  “I hope so,” she whispered. For as much as she questioned her own vampirism, she was thankful she had a mate to share the many years ahead of them.

  So why are you here now?

  Vince had called this afternoon urging her to meet him again. Scarlet had agreed reluctantly. She couldn’t jar the feeling that Vince wanted more from her than information from the diaries. He had freely admitted his interest in her, which was a damn good reason for her to stay away from him.

  But she hadn’t refused. Again that odd feeling she should go—do something, almost, keep an eye on Vince—had come over her. It was as if Esmarelda spoke from the pages of the diaries. For reasons unknown to Scarlet she felt compelled to do this for the woman who haunted the pages of a mildew-laced diary.

  Scarlet scanned the room. Images of the previous night flashed in time with the music. Watching Vince take a victim into his arms, cooing and reassuring her all was well. She had thought it wrong, violent and sinful, as Vince’s victim had wilted in his arms and the blonde singer had sucked her life into his body. She had wanted to run then, to leave the scene of the crime before she could be considered an accomplice. But something had made her turn back for one more look.

  And tonight she knew what that something was.

  Curiosity.

  There was a certain electricity, a shiver in the air about her that kept her senses heightened and her body alert to every touch or accidental brush of another’s clothes. It was like the insufferable torment that came from a lover’s teasing tongue, one that would linger, and never delve further until her body was near the edge.

  Another image flickered in Scarlet’s mind. It was of Rico Bellange as he moved closer, his eyes darting back and forth
across hers, his breath waiting for the precise moment when he would see the fear. He was a beast stalking its prey, following at a distance, close enough to be known and feared, but lingering far enough away to cause some confidence of escape.

  Scarlet swallowed. After living with Sebastian for a year and never knowing the excitement, the nervous verve that accompanied the stalked victim, she could certainly understand Vince’s attraction to Rico. But evil shadowed Rico’s eyes. Scarlet would be cautious of the man, but he was unavoidable if she were to continue on the track she had set.

  The music switched to a steady, slow beat that pulled couples to the dance floor where they meshed together in vile embraces.

  So many times she had watched Wild Child play on-stage, focusing solely on the lovely blonde man who held the crowd in his fists with each shimmering note, each toss of his head, every flash of his wicked blue eyes, and every snarl that changed to a mischievous grin. And now…after his kiss last night…and Rico’s capture of her fear…

  Don’t say it. Don’t even think it.

  But I do.

  She wanted more.

  The black walls sparkled with thousands of dripping wax lights each set into elaborate gold sconces. Many of the faces were buried against in the face of another, tasting the mouths, the eyes, the breasts of the other, caught up in a maniac frenzy of lust, desire and the pounding demands of the demented music. A flash of platinum hair caught the candle glow, up in the balcony, before shivering back into the shadows.

  He was up there.

  Scarlet stepped down into the bowels of the Decadence. The marble stairs to the balcony were just across the room. She fingered the polished silver banister and slipped into the shadows. The balcony led to a darkened room echoing with moans and whispers, secrets and exposed flesh, carnal passion.

  Another shiver ran across Scarlet’s shoulders, that of desire.

  Just ahead, nestled between two marble columns, stood Vince, his lanky body half-kissed by candlelight, the other half shrouded by the fierce red dress of a woman whom he held by the neck as his kisses traveled across her chest and worked into the depths of her cleavage.