Dark Rapture

by Hauf, Michele

  “Per favore, Cat, don’t think I am insulting your intelligence. Never. You are by far an extremely intelligent woman.” He gestured to the sheet music, an original piece he had written out last week after securing the warmth of his own apartment. “Look how much you have learned in a fortnight. I should imagine you’ll be ready to play this piece at your next dinner party.”

  “Oh, yes!” She clapped her hands together once. “Federico has already planned it. The Duc d’Allini is attending, along with his wife who has been writing those silly stories about fairies and elf children. I hear they’re absolutely horrendous.”

  Sebastian laughed. She looked so childlike and innocent when she wrinkled her nose. “And why does your brother invite these people if you do not like them?”

  “It doesn’t matter whether either of us cares for them, Bastian. All that matters is they make for interesting conversation.” She fingered the silver buttons on his frockcoat, moving up successively as she spoke. “Each guest is chosen carefully to provide enough conflict against the other guests. This careful selection leads to sparkling conversation and perhaps, or rather, hopefully, a witty argument or two. Would it not be so dreadfully dull if everyone sat around sipping wine and all agreed with one another?” She tapped him on the chin, ending her trek with a giggle. “Contrast is a great joy in life, Bastian.”

  “I believe you and Rico take a bit of wicked joy in arranging these battles of the minds. I could see the spark in your eye last week when the Duchess la Poozan was insulted by Marcus for wearing her animal furs. You both love it, don’t you?”

  Cat ran her fingers along the black harpsichord keys producing an ascending scale of chromatics. “Don’t you?”

  “Yes, I imagine I may, occasionally, but—”

  “But, I fear you tend to leave our little parties just as they are getting started.” Cat leaned across the keys, resting her chin in her cupped fingers “Why did you rush off so scandalously early last time, Bastian? It wasn’t even dawn. Did you not enjoy seeing the Duchess turn red?”

  There was a full moon, he thought, with a glance toward the window that overlooked the Grand Canal. I had to leave before sinking my teeth into the Duchess’ reddening flesh.

  “I wasn’t feeling well, chère. I am sure I told you so that night. I didn’t want to stay and spoil the festive mood, if you will, with my own less than festive spirits.”

  “Yes, well…oh.” Catrina gasped suddenly and pressed her fingers to her tightly stitched stays.

  “Are you feeling well? Is it the air?” Sebastian glanced to the window; it was open, allowing a fresh chill into the room. “Come over here, sit down.” He helped Catrina to the divan and she lay back, clutching her breast.

  “It came…so suddenly,” she panted. “I can’t breathe.”

  Her face paled quickly. Sebastian looked about, not sure what to do as he knelt by her side. Of course, it was the dress. The Venetian women followed the French fashion of pulling their corsets tightly to ensure a slim figure, not caring for their health.

  “Please,” she gasped. “You must help me. Unlace this for me, quickly. Oh, I feel faint. Per favore.”

  His hands hovering before the woman’s bodice, Sebastian noticed with a deep gulp how her breasts swelled above the soft peach silk with each heaving breath. He was sure that they would spill out if he were to loosen the stays.

  A familiar ache stirred in his mouth as his fangs threatened to come down of their own volition. The blood hunger spoke fiercely; he had yet to feed. But it was not welcome right now. He closed his eyes, concentrating intensely as he fought to spread the teasing pain.

  It worked. Perhaps too well. Now the tingling had descended to his breeches where his erection grew hard. Lust always accompanied the blood hunger.

  “Please.” Catrina gripped his hand and pushed it to her breast where her skin was hot beneath his palm.

  Unable to resist her pouting red lips, Sebastian nodded and began to undo the top hooks, each one gently releasing her bound flesh. He stopped abruptly and looked up the great marble staircase. “Federico?”

  “He’s out,” she said and gestured for him to unhook another.

  Ready to release another hook, he noticed there was more flesh exposed than should be for a lady. “But…you’ve no chemise.”

  “I cannot breathe, Bastian,” she urged.

  It seemed to him she probably should be able to breathe, he having undone three hooks by now, but an innocent flutter of her lashes and the warm softness of her breasts caressing his hand enticed him further. Sebastian undid another, and another, each time exposing more of the tempting flesh. And then, without a thought, he bent to kiss the warm mounds beneath his fingertips, pulling the rosy buds into his mouth and sucking them to rigid alertness.

  “Ohh, Bastian,” she cooed. “I have wondered how long you would admire me from afar before finally deciding to taste of my offerings.” A wicked groan whispered from her painted lips. “It is so sweet your touch.”

  “You’re sure your brother is out?”

  “Sì, he is gone. But you’ve no worry, Federico would not mind. He likes you very much.” She pushed her fingernails through his hair, dragging them across his scalp, which sent shivers to his tormented groin. “Federico speaks of you often. I know he would be pleased you’ve finally come to your senses.”

  Sweet vanilla tickled up Sebastian’s nose. From his vantage point, Catrina’s piercing blue eye was a priceless gem as she teased a finger along his bottom lip. He could take her now, lift her skirts and delve into her hidden secrets, but…the whole situation did not feel right. It was early evening. Federico could walk in anytime and catch them. And there was the blood hunger that needed to be answered.

  “Perhaps…I could return later? When Federico is sleeping?”

  Her tinkling laughter warmed his heart. Catrina pulled his face up and kissed his lips. “Does that mean you don’t want to hear my solo now? I’ve been working for days on your piece.”

  The stirring in his gums had not ceased, nor had the stirring in his breeches. Sebastian knew that he must leave. “Later, when I return. I promise your practice efforts will not go unheard.”

  “Sî, you must come later.” She stood and pulled a shawl from the back of the divan, which Sebastian helped to drape around her shoulders and pull over her exposed cleavage. “Perhaps close to midnight?” A mischievous sprinkle of candlelight danced in her eyes.

  “I shall. Will Rico—”

  “You mustn’t worry, Bastian. Come along the canal, the gondolas have finally broken through the ice. I will wait at the servant’s entrance with a candle. Federico sleeps like a corpse. He’ll never know. But as I’ve said, he would not mind.”

  “But for now.” He kissed her hand.

  “Of course, my love. This shall be our little secret.” She glanced over his shoulder, toward the stairs, and quickly caught his hands in hers before he could turn around. “Let me see you to the door.”

  The bell above the front door chimed, shaking a crust of ice over Sebastian’s shoulders as he made way.

  Catrina strolled back into the music room, her smile pushing her cheeks high when she looked back up the stairs.

  “Very good, sister. I see you are no longer bored. Your acting abilities will not go unrewarded.” Federico looked down from the staircase from where he had stood for the last ten minutes. “Our plan is beginning to take shape.”

  ***

  Delicious velvets and damasks of a deep, shocking crimson swathed Catrina’s room.

  Sebastian rolled over to his back, thinking it had been a long time since he had slept on silk sheets. Or even sat on fine furniture, for that matter. For the past long months, his home had been bare boards and abandoned cellars that had been wretchedly damp and moldy during the summer months when the water soaked them, and icy and frigid as of late.

  He was glad he had been able to feed before returning tonight, for the bloodlust always surfaced whenever he made love. Mo
st extractions taken from his donors—he refused to use the word victim—were quick, the urge for sex easily suppressed. But if the donor was female and she had invited him into her home with illicit intentions—which happened frequently—he was not one to resist the urge.

  Tonight had been the first time since becoming a vampire, he had made love to a woman without drinking her blood and leaving immediately afterward.

  Catrina kissed the bare skin on his upper arm, starting a trail of goose bumps that shivered up to his neck and disappeared beneath his dark hair.

  “You and your brother have been very kind to me.” He wrapped his arms about her body, slick with the glow of sweat and sex. “I feel I owe you something more than simple music lessons, chèrie. Mon dieu, with the wages Federico has paid me I should have to tutor you for a lifetime to ever repay your good fortune.”

  “Does it upset you, lover?” Catrina’s lower lip pouted, enticing Sebastian to press his fingers to it. Her skin was hot and slick.

  “Oh no, chèrie. It is just…well …I’ve gone without for so long. I’ve been the starving artist, living in abandoned shacks, scavenging the streets, occasionally camping out in a gondola overnight. And now…to have money again… it’s…” His eyes searched hers though his mind was tangled with the right words to express his thought. “…la dolce vita.” He wrapped her body into his arms and kissed her. “I shall be indebted to you and your brother for as long as I shall know the two of you. Thank you, Catrina, merci beaucoup.”

  “Mmm, well, you can begin your thanks by coming inside of me again, innamorata. Oh, you do cool off so quickly.” She kissed the curve at the base of his neck and trailed a finger along the thick blue vein that pumped his life’s blood, sending shivers throughout his body. “Are you sure you’re not short a few measures of blood?”

  Sebastian pushed away Catrina’s thick hair, spitting a few strands from between his lips. “What?”

  “Your blood,” she repeated, having no idea why he was so startled. “It cools so quickly, lover. You’re growing colder. Come closer and let me rewarm you before I must call the maids to bring more blankets.”

  For a second he had feared the worst. That she suspected his true nature. As he trailed his tongue down the satin plane of Catrina’s stomach he resolved to drink twice as much before coming to her bed the next time. Obviously one mortal was not enough to sustain his own human characteristics.

  ***

  The sun set on the lagoon today, softening the frozen covering and allowing the gondoliers to break passageways through the icy water. When the sun had disappeared beyond the horizon, Sebastian quickly made way for the Palazzo Bellange. Rico had promised to teach him the fine art of shooting after he had expressed an interest a few nights ago. But even with his heightened vampire senses, he was having difficulty grasping the technique. Sebastian couldn’t hit the target, which frustrated him to no end. He resigned that there were obviously some things he was not meant to learn.

  Sebastian left his cape and tricorn with the footman and sailed down the portego in search of the twins, hearing their voices just above. They were upstairs, in the west wing, he knew as he mounted the twisting stairs. In his haste, Sebastian ran smack into Rico dressed in full pirate regal.

  “Avast, ye matey!” Rico said with great vigor, and then tucked his sword into the leather scabbard at his waist. “Or, what ever it is pirates say. Ciao, Bastian. You’ve come for another shooting lesson?”

  “Yes,” Sebastian began slowly as he looked over Rico’s costume. He wore a white shirt opened to the waist, exposing a light dusting of mahogany hairs across his chest. It tied with a wide purple sash over slashed and striped breeches and over his uncolored eye sat a black patch. “Am I interrupting something? It seems I was not invited to the masquerade. Or, perhaps you were on your way to Carnival?”

  Rico laughed heartily and threw his arm across Sebastian’s shoulders. “Just a game to dispel the boredom, my friend—”

  “Oh!” Catrina came sailing down the stairs, dressed in loose-fitting gypsy garb with delicate bells tinkling about her bare feet and she plunged into her brother’s arms.

  “Ah, there ye be, me faithful wench!” Rico tipped Catrina back in his arms and planted a kiss to her lips as Sebastian stood back, quite amused at their antics. “And will ye not show me shipmate the same regard ye give me?”

  Sebastian stifled a laugh as Rico continued his attempts at swashbuckler dialect.

  Catrina twirled over to Sebastian, her ankles tinkling gaily and he swept her up in his arms. She kissed him deeply but he did not renege, having become used to showing affection toward Catrina in front of her brother. Though, nothing more than a kiss or a caress.

  “There ye be, me wench.” Rico pulled his sister to his side. “Time for this mate’s shooting lesson. Now off with your lecherous hands from his body before me matey goes into a swoon.” Rico gave a pirate’s har-dee-har-har chuckle and gestured for Sebastian to follow him.

  Wiping Catrina’s red lip paint from his lips, Sebastian followed the merry pirate but not before catching a wink from Catrina as she sailed up the stairs.

  The shooting gallery was on the main floor, located just behind the servant’s quarters.

  Guns were a passion of Rico’s. He favored a smaller, Spanish flintlock, one inset with gold filigree and a gold plated barrel. He handled it with pride, explaining that it had been a gift from his grandfather.

  Sebastian stood a few paces to Rico’s side, watching the painted target as the self-made pirate took aim.

  “Ciao, my lovers.” Catrina came up behind the two, having changed into more presentable garb, and threw her arms about Sebastian’s shoulders, kissing him on the ear.

  “Shh,” he said, and pulled her hands to his mouth, kissing her thumbs.

  “It is all right, mi amore. Rico always hits his mark. He has the truest aim. Watch.” She peered over Sebastian’s shoulder and clapped gleefully when the snap of the gun produced a gaping hole in the center of the target. “You see.”

  “I shall never learn to shoot as well.” Sebastian received the gun from Rico and pulled the top of the flint bag open with his teeth.

  “I am surprised,” Rico said with a quick glance to Catrina, a glance that occurred often, and always unnerved Sebastian. It was as if they knew something he did not. “Perhaps you are nervous. There is no reason you should not be able to hit the target.”

  It seemed to Sebastian Rico thought everyone should be able to shoot as well as he did.

  “Everyone has their vocation, Rico,” Catrina said. “Bastian makes beautiful music, while you choose to come here in the dead of night and make a glorious noise that wakes the entire household.”

  “True, but we night creatures take a wicked glee in waking the dead, do we not?” He looked to Sebastian for a reply.

  Sebastian shrugged and held the flintlock before him, aiming, which he knew was useless. “If you refer to my late hours, my friend, you are correct. But I am not much for waking the entire household myself.”

  “Nonsense.” Catrina tickled his ear with the tip of her tongue and Sebastian shrugged his shoulders. “What fun would life be without causing a great spectacle. My brother and I do not enjoy life unless it is exciting and spur-of-the-moment. You are too restrained, Bastian. Live your life to the fullest before it is gone!”

  Her vigor startled Sebastian and he let the flintlock fall until it dangled precariously from his trigger finger. “Yes…I suppose,” he agreed absently. “Before it is gone.”

  ***

  “Buon giorno and good news, mi amore. Though, it is rather late to be a good morning isn’t it? It is nearly noon.”

  Sebastian stirred beneath the thick crimson blankets and his eyes fluttered open to muted darkness. He had taken Catrina up on her suggestion of living life to its fullest by allowing her to lure him into her bed again. She was a demon between the sheets that drained him of his energy as a vampire would drain someone of their blood.
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br />   He had heard a voice. Someone was in Catrina’s chambers.

  “The storm has darkened the sky so it’s impossible to determine if one should get up.” Catrina said and Sebastian felt a nudge beneath the sheet on his buttock from her caressing hand. “Bastian, are you awake?”

  He grunted and pushed the counterpane from his face, thankful that what Catrina said was true; it was still dark in the bedroom. The velvet curtains were drawn over the windows and from the sound of furling wind outside he assumed the snow ravaged Venice again.

  But it was Rico’s presence that startled him.

  “And is it a good morning, my friend?” Rico pushed the damask bed curtains aside and leaned across his sister’s body, giving Sebastian a friendly slap across the back.

  Sebastian turned over quickly, pulling the sheets to his waist and rubbed his eyes. He felt quite weak after assuming all the contortions Catrina had seduced his body into last night “Rico, I’m—”

  “When I heard you had stayed the night I simply had to come see you this morning. I’ve such wonderful news.”

  “Really?”

  Rico pressed a lingering kiss to Catrina’s shoulder and rested his head in the V of her bent arm.

  “Sì, very good news. I’ve been so pleased with your tutoring of Cat I’ve decided to use my social standing to advance your career. I have arranged for you to give a private concert in my home.”

  “Really?” He had never thought about performing in public. Well, yes, he had. He could not perform in public and risk possible recognition, though he knew no one in Venice. The idea of his mother finding out he was so close to Paris was unthinkable. “But you’ve done so much already.”

  “A trifle, my friend. But you are pleased?”

  To perform his own music. To feel the elation. Ah, his heart beat with anticipation. Perhaps it wouldn’t hurt to give a small performance in the privacy of Rico’s home. How could Angelique possibly find out?

  “A concert,” he muttered, falling into his own thoughts. Of course, this could be all right. No one would know him. He would have the joy of performing his own compositions. Sebastian found he could not resist. “But I’ll need to use the harpsichord here…to practice. I don’t have my own.”