Lucien wondered how the fuck Jacques could see without headlights and grimaced respectfully at the driver. Sitting more upright he noticed just how close they were to the taillights of the Silver Ghost. He grunted with satisfaction at Jacques’ handiwork.
The Silver Ghost turned off the road onto a private driveway where the welcoming lights of a chateau could be seen through the trees. Jacques slowed to a crawl and pulled into a gap between hedges, forming an entrance to a field. He used the handbrake to stop the car so as not to give away their position with the brake lights.
Jacques sighed and tapped the temperature gauge, “Here we go again ... she’s in the red.” He switched off the engine.
Count Lucien stepped out of the Mercedes and looked up at the almost full moon casting a ghostly light between darkly brooding clouds. He yanked his sword from the floor well and wiped it on the damp grass before sliding it back home with an imperceptible sigh. He stood on the car’s runner to spy on the headlights of the Rolls Royce approaching his former home.
Lucien growled with recognition at the sight of the chateau with its four turrets and poplar-lined, graveled driveway leading to the imposing solid oak front door. He stared for some time at the great North Turret and smirked with sweet memories of her incarceration there. His Delicate Rose had become a withered old hag, whose petals had dried, falling one by one to the damp stone floor. Oh how he needed her blood. He felt the fire surging through his heart.
Light spilled from several ground floor windows onto the expansive lawn dotted with cedars. A silvery wisp of smoke spiraled from the clutter of chimney pots. He heard an owl screeching upon its prey. Lucien grinned at the thought of a field mouse being torn apart by sharp talons. He looked at his own long fingernails and imagined ripping their throats out. Movement diverted his attention.
The Silver Ghost stopped at the front door. The butler rushed down the steps from the chateau and held the passenger door open for the two elegantly dressed females. Sebastian stepped from the car and escorted the women inside. Another servant drove the car through an archway.
Lucien had such special plans for Sebastian. He felt the sword and grinned. Be patient my friend. Your time will come.
Jacques got out and rummaged in the boot to remove an oilcan and cloth. He opened the split bonnet, and with the cloth wrapped around his hand, unplugged the oil filler cap. He poured enough oil into the thirsty engine, screwed on the cap and replaced the oilcan in the boot.
Lucien slumped back in his seat and sat there licking his teeth with rampant impatience. Why did she have to come back here of all places? Was fate teasing him? He turned to look at the still inebriated Claudette slumped across the rear seat.
Jacques wiped his hands on the cloth when he saw Lucien looking at Claudette. He gave Lucien an enquiring glance.
Lucien shrugged. “I know ... wake the slut up. She’ll be of no use in that state. Some fresh air might do her good.”
Jacques nodded yes to Lucien and slowly dragged Claudette off the rear seat. His eyes bugged out as her fur coat slid off her, revealing all her delicious, naked glory. She murmured something unintelligible, but remained in a semi-conscious state. He bent down and licked her shaved mound and kissed each nipple. She remained oblivious to his attentions.
Jacques heaved an irritable sigh, dragging Claudette clear of the car and dropped her onto the damp grass and churned up earth where countless hooves had left their mark.
Claudette squirmed on the ground. Her eyes flew open.
“What the fuck’s going on?” Claudette shuddered on the grass, looking straight up at the stars. She looked around in a panic and glared at Jacques laughing derisively at her.
“Sobering up, my dear ... that’s what the fuck’s going on.” Jacques chuckled with good nature and threw Claudette’s coat over her sprawled body.
Claudette got to her feet after falling down a couple of times, much to the amusement of Jacques. She slithered into her black mink coat.
“Fucking bastard!” Claudette growled with undiluted anger.
Jacques poked his tongue out at Claudette. “Grow up, whore!” He smiled and massaged his crotch. “Want some stretching?”
Lucien shook his head with dismay at the childish antics of his new family. He put his feet on the dashboard, looking ready to kill, stroking his sword.
Jacques backed off from Claudette as she lit a cigarette. Leaving her to pout and sober up, he hopped back into the car and waited alongside Lucien.
“Have we given them enough time?” Jacques looked too eager, too agitated.
Lucien looked at the chateau’s lights. “Not yet my eager friend. Give them time to settle into their dinner … then we will dine on them.”
Jacques nodded his head and sat fidgeting at the wheel, jangling the keys in the ignition and flicking the indicator switch on and off. He was eager all right!
~~~~
The final hour was up. The Mercedes’ engine came to life as Jacques obeyed the nod from Lucien. The car slowly reversed from its hiding place between the hedges at the field entrance and entered the long driveway of the chateau, like a hearse expecting a fresh cadaver or two. Jacques stopped the car with the handbrake, crunching to a halt alongside a row of poplars, a short distance from the front door. Jacques switched off the engine, leaving the key in the ignition.
Lucien, Claudette and Jacques climbed out of the Mercedes. They casually walked towards the chateau. The lights from the ground floor windows created three silhouettes while they stood for a brief moment, casting long shadows across the well-manicured lawn. An impending storm caused a slight breeze to billow their long coats, making them look like giant bats. Lucien stretched his arms to the moon and grinned.
Claudette giggled and danced excitedly around Lucien opening her fur coat to reveal her naked body.
“Do we use Forbidden Kiss on them?” she asked as a child to parent.
Lucien pushed her away. “No ... they must bleed for our need. I want them to experience their suffering.” He felt the sweet pain of the gleaming. He licked his long incisors.
The three Sucklings slowly walked towards a set of French doors at the rear of the chateau.
Count Lucien and his vampires stared through the French doors, calmly observing the unaware diners. Lucien could see the refined couple, but not his true love. He frantically scanned the room for her. She was not there? He watched as Sebastian picked up a silver bell and rang it. The dining room door opened and a servant entered with a fresh bottle of wine upon a silver tray. The servant uncorked the bottle.
The thought of uncorking a bottle of blood forced Lucien to snarl his fangs at Sebastian. He clearly sensed the unease emanating from that cavalier bastard frowning at the French doors. Lucien watched the glorious vintage that was Ellise looking curiously at Sebastian. Time’s up! Lucien crashed through the doors with a vengeful ferocity.
Claudette had to skip over shattered glass. “Thanks, Lucien!”
Jacques pushed Claudette before him. “I’ll use my teeth to pick your feet clean when we’re done.”
Claudette grinned lasciviously. “I’ll hold you to that.”
“Guess who’s coming to dinner?” Lucien laughed like a jackal.
Ellise screamed in fright when Claudette pounced on her, wrapping an arm around her throat.
Sebastian jumped to his feet in utter shock at this rude interruption. “Dupont! You miserable swine!” Sebastian was forced back down by Jacques’ strong grip at his neck.
The male servant dropped his tray and hovered by the door, unsure what to do.
Lucien waved a finger at the servant. “Would you kindly hold on a moment?”
Years of subservience forced the male servant to automatically obey Lucien’s order, hovering by the dining room door with a trembling hand on the handle. He looked to Sebastian for further instructions.
“He can’t help you ... so just wait. You’ll enjoy it, I promise.” Lucien stabbed the servant with his malicious glar
e. He stepped up to the massive fireplace, sneered at the nude painting above and pressed a secret button – a maiden’s nipple, for the first time since his parents’ death. He removed something wrapped in a dusty napkin stained with dark dried blood and a small wooden box. Lucien hummed a tune while un-wrapping his father’s revolver. He casually checked the gun for shells and replaced the three spent ones from the box.
Lucien sensed terror and panic from the servant. He whirled around and casually shot him where his wildly beating heart resided. The servant’s back exploded and he was thrown against the door. He slumped to the floor with smoke leaking from the large red hole in his chest.
“Well what do you know, it still works.” Lucien chuckled, blowing smoke from the barrel. He turned the revolver on the new home owner. “You want some?” He laughed like all the demons in hell. “Now what shall we talk about, hmm?” Lucien stormed up to Sebastian and slapped his face. He screamed maniacally. “Where’s my Delicate Rose?”
A terrified Sebastian stared into the barrel of the revolver. He breathed deeply. He seemed calmer and smiled into those dead eyes. “Go to fucking hell, Dupont!”
Lucien grinned, tossing the smoking gun to Jacques. “Deal with the other servants.”
Jacques laughed and hefted the dead servant’s body away from the door. He left the room.
Lucien chuckled with anticipation, removing his secret weapon from his long coat. The gleaming katana swished through the air towards the inevitable.
Ellise whimpered in fear. She looked away when Lucien winked at her. She tried to get up, but Claudette gripped her around the neck and squeezed.
“Where is my Beautiful Rose?” Lucien screamed, “Where is she?”
Sebastian looked defiantly at Lucien and refused to reply.
Lucien laughed. “Come now, Sebastian. Tell me where she is or suffer the consequences of your inactions.”
Three more gunshots ripped apart the night.
“Aw, shame about that.” Lucien looked from Sebastian to Ellise. Knowledge of their fate was written on their faces. He swam in the power of their fear mixed with their love for one another. “Come on, old man, I know you want to play. Do it!”
Sebastian gave Ellise a sad look of defeat.
Ellise began to cry.
Sebastian couldn’t hold back his rage any longer. He charged at Lucien.
Ellise cried out, “No Sebastian!”
Lucien laughed while Sebastian took a swing at him with a clenched fist. He easily dodged Sebastian’s noble attempts at bravery. “Give up old man,” Lucien taunted. He smiled amiably when Sebastian threw a punch to his jaw. Lucien dodged the blow, egging Sebastian on with a wave of his hand.
Sebastian exchanged terrified glances with Ellise. It was obvious his foe was far too strong and agile.
Lucien knocked him across the table, scattering its contents to the floor.
In a moment of desperation, Sebastian managed to kick Lucien away and rushed over to the fireplace. He snatched a cutlass from the wall and whirled.
“Oh, how simply delightful ... we have a Douglas Fairbanks in our midst.” Lucien laughed derisively while Sebastian tried to plunge the cutlass into his chest.
Sebastian lunged again, easily parried by Lucien. In a flurry of sparks Lucien gave a cruel look of boredom and yawned. Steel kissed steel and Lucien skipped a merry dance, toying with his prey. Lucien was overjoyed when Sebastian screamed slashing wildly. Lucien’s katana slid down the cutlass with a cringe-inducing screech. He kicked Sebastian and ducked from a lunge.
“You’re no match for The Count, old man.” After a few moments of gallant swordplay, Lucien buried his sword into Sebastian’s chest and flipped him on his back, knocking a bottle of Lafitte to the floor with a loud crash.
Jacques entered the dining room with the revolver held out in readiness. He relaxed when he saw Lucien in control of the situation.
Claudette held a trembling Ellise tightly around the throat with strong fingers almost embedded in her neck.
Jacques joined her, massaging his erection.
Lucien gloated over Sebastian’s distress. “Serves you right for taking what was mine.” He leaned nose-to-nose with Sebastian and plucked the cutlass from his dying grasp.
“Aaaaaaagh!” He screamed into Sebastian’s face, drowning out Ellise’s screams.
Lucien forced Sebastian to the table like a marionette without strings. The Count chuckled.
“The old man doesn’t understand us,” The Count mused.
Lucien forced Sebastian to sprawl across the table clutching the sword now protruding from his stomach.
The Count relished his victory over the swine. “Shouldn’t have humiliated us, old man.” The Count relayed Sebastian’s final moments – his legs felt useless – the cold rapidly freezing his groin. Lucien sighed with gratification.
Sebastian spat in Lucien’s face.
Lucien grinned wickedly, wiping away the spittle and with a wicked wink he forced the blade through Sebastian’s back and into the table.
“You shouldn’t have done that, Sebastian.” Lucien chuckled and blew him a kiss. “Now you have forced my hand.” Lucien showed his empty hand for all to see. “You dance with the Devil … you sleep with the Devil.”
Sebastian glared at Lucien. A hoarse, wet cough turned into a growl of contempt. “You fucking madman. Go to hell.”
“You first!” Lucien whirled to see Ellise whimpering under the smothering hold of Claudette. Tears rolled down her cheeks. She reached out with a trembling hand.
She begged Lucien, “Please let me kiss my husband one last time.”
Lucien laughed. “You brought this on yourself, Ellise.” The Count reminded Lucien how often Ellise had flaunted her superiority in his face – now look at her begging for mercy. Lucien gave a curt nod to Claudette.
Claudette cut off Ellise’s cries with a kiss. She gleamed her fangs.
Lucien sneered into Sebastian’s face. “See what you’ve made me do.” Lucien wiggled the sword.
Sebastian groaned with pain.
Lucien winked at Ellise, and said in a mocking tone, “It’s all your fault, Ellise ... if you hadn’t taken my Delicate Rose, all this unpleasantness could have been avoided.” Lucien twisted the sword. “I need her blood!” Lucien shouted, “Where is she!”
Count Lucien watched with uncontrollable excitement Claudette opening up Ellise’s vintage. Lucien’s bloodlust erupted like a volcano. He pounced on Ellise, pushing Jacques aside and uncorked her wrist with his fangs. His blood fire was soothed as he drank heavily of her sweetness. He gorged on the gloriously rich nectar that only comes from refined living. To Lucien, she tasted positively delicious, fresh and slightly fruity, like an impertinently young Bordeaux.
Claudette’s sneering mouth left Ellise’s lips to dine on the fine blood pumping through her neck.
Jacques roughly pushed Claudette away from Ellise’s neck and gorged on the hot blood that ran in rivulets down her quivering body.
Claudette spat at Jacques and stamped her feet with annoyance. She screamed, “I want more.” She grinned at Sebastian with fangs dripping gore. She rushed to the limp bottle of blood and giggled when Sebastian looked away in horror. Her fangs ravaged his neck and she drank with an insatiable lust.
Lucien paused. The Count thanked him for this opportunity to end Sebastian’s life. The Count showed him how the chaos of war would have altered if Sebastian had lived. General Sebastian Moreau convinced Minister of War, Andre Maginot not to build his line of concrete bunker defenses bordering Germany.
Under much ridicule from his peers, Sebastian insisted on constructing heavy tanks which repelled the German invasion. Peace was declared.
Now The Count showed Lucien the inevitable path of destruction he so needed. He saw an intense tank battle – thousands of tanks burned as far as the eye could see. Bodies roasted black, hung from turrets. Dogs scavenged. A demented despot screamed while his army retreated. The images faded. Lucien s
ighed with the knowledge he had once again maintained history as The Count so ordered. He frowned. Her music entered his mind.
Barely audible snivels of terror came from under the dining table, whimpers made almost undetectable by the noise of Ellise’s death.
Lucien jolted as if struck by lightning. He bent down and lifted the tablecloth. Ah at last, his Delicate Rose.
“There you are!” The hunt was on! He ripped the sword from Sebastian’s stomach and gave chase.
Drunk on too much blood, Count Lucien tripped and fell. “You won’t get far my Delicate Rose.”
Lucien laughed like a demented jackal. He stared into the woods and listened, oblivious to the rain washing the blood from his face. He could hear her thrashing through the thick undergrowth. The pain of his scuffed shin was nothing to the hatred dwelling in his black soul. A flash of lightning reflected from something. He limped towards her discarded shoes. He was about to pick them up, but rage made him kick them away. Oh how he relished the thought of her feet, torn and bloody.
Lucien raced back to the chateau, shouting, “Jacques, the fucking car ... quickly, damn you.”
Lucien sat in his car impatiently waiting. He watched as both Sucklings ran from the chateau through the shattered French doors. Their faces were heavily smeared with dark blood. Claudette leaned against a cedar and threw up a stream of black gore.
Jacques stood at her side and laughed. He allowed the cool rain to wash his face and shook himself free of water like a wild dog and got into the car. Jacques gunned the engine to life and waited for Claudette. He gave Lucien a knowing smile.
“She can’t be too far. Find her!” Lucien ordered in a high-pitched squeal of exasperation. He sighed with regret at the irritation his Petite Fleur had caused him. Her punishment would be extreme, but what punishment could possibly fit her crime? A grin of pleasure revealed bloody teeth. He knew what he would do – drink every last drop of her blood on the day of days.
As soon as Claudette settled in the rear seat, the car lurched off for the blood hunt.
The Shadow Box: Paranormal Suspense and Dark Fantasy Thriller Novels Page 188
