With Isabella healing, and Donny and Anton still in the land of the living, I blurred back to Lucius who was now trying to reason with the insane ancient.
“Please, Master, let me help you. I’ll go to the Council myself on your behalf. You’re sick with valerian poisoning.” He cringed. “I fear I’m partly to blame in my escape from your service.”
“The Council?” Loupgarin laughed. “They’re madmen. I’ve spent enough time at their mercy. I’ve been shown what true cruelty is.” He grinned with his own certain brand of madness. “These humans,” he motioned around himself, “one day they’ll learn to stay out of vampire dealings. Vintonie—I’ll finish him and his family, then I’ll be back for you and yours too.”
Loupgarin caught my attention with his words. What was Anton’s true crime?
His eyes rolled with a strange wildness. “I’ve been to see the Magistrate, the bastard got lucky, next time he won’t. And, the Council will meet my justice. I owe them plenty.” His head hung low to his chest, his gaze glowing a brighter, more brilliant red than before, sick with the poisoning, mad with blood born lust. His face rose into the air, inhaling, and in the same breath he howled. The transformation to wolf started to take him.
In all my centuries as a vampire, I’d only seen one other undead with the ability to call the wolf at his will. He had been a heavy-chested vampire, with an enormous wolf’s head. He’d met Council justice and succinctly murdered by the Vampire Hierarchy in the Great Hunt through the streets of London, long before our exodus to the United States of America. The human population knew him as one Deacon Abbott, a local night priest and bell ringer to his parishioners. But after the midnight hour, his beast emerged as part wolf, part fiend, preying on the same churchgoers who praised him for his loyal service. Today he’d be considered psychotic, a split personality, but to the vampire, he meant exposure for us all, unable to contain the beast within.
Then as now, it should have been the Hierarchy dealing with the vampire, and not the Draco family. The Council had their own reasons for ignoring Loupgarin. They’d allowed his torture at Rafael’s hands until insanity met mania. Could it all be for a perceived feud, now centuries old? Not even the Council operated with this much convolution. And Rafael still hid in the Council’s protection. It was through their failures Loupgarin was loose upon the human population.
No longer able to wait, I charged into the room only to crash into Luc’s body. I staggered, falling to the floor. “Why?”
He only shook his head, and Loupgarin chortled.
His mad glare pierced mine. “Young one, did you believe it would be so easy?”
I struggled to my feet, gazing over at Lucius and again, he shook his head.
What was happening?
Glancing around the room, I found David with his back pressed against the wall, hands clenched in tight fists as he waited and watched. His strength bunched in his restless hands. I brushed against his thoughts. If there was ever a time to release your beast, it’s now, I urged. But still he watched, new anger blooming in his darkly hooded eyes. Something held his beast at bay.
Circling around the room, I made to step into Loupgarin. Again, Luc halted my advance.
In that instance, Loupgarin struck, meaning to finish the task he started all those long years ago.
“No! You will not have him!” Luc shouted, striding into the vampire, only to be knocked aside, Loupgarin continuing to advance.
I jumped to my feet, ready to charge again, but Luc’s words stopped me. “Go!” he yelled, “save yourself!”
“No.” I could no more leave him and David than I’d allow myself to be sacrificed.
Lucius peered back at me with anxious yearning, and I realize he suffered the same problem as David, and understood the poisoning now. What if one of the old vampire’s powers prevented his underlings from confronting their master? It would be a heady thing for the unstable vampire, a Godlike power. He could harm as he pleased, commit ungodly acts, with little fear of retribution.
I wanted to shield Luc and David from the bastard’s power, to relieve him of his undead life. If not by their hands, then by mine. I felt no compulsion to the ancient.
Lucius had said his maker was old and powerful, possibly one of the originals called by the Earth Mother. I had never doubted his words, and now the truth stood in front of me, Loupgarin—an original vampire, many millennia old.
Fur erupted from his flesh, bloodied with the kills of the night. His face elongated into a snout and his limbs trembled. His shoulders hunched, growing wider, broader, as muscles and tendons popped and grew. He laughed in a hard bark, and his whole body quivered until before us stood an enormous beast, the wolf of David’s thoughts, much bigger and wilder. He opened his maw in a wide yawn, showing row upon row of sharp bloodied teeth.
As crazed as Loupgarin was, he tried to talk to Lucius in his wolf form, and it came out as a low, raspy grind of a voice. “This night is mine. I will have this blood! All of it! You cannot stop me, young one. You can choose to live for one more night or die like the pathetic human scum that plagues this place. If their blood wasn’t so life affirming, so rejuvenating, I’d kill the whole race, the whole lot of them, one at a time.” His hot fetid breath laced with poison wafted through the space. It stank of old death as he gurgled out a laugh.
With a howl that bled out and into the night, Loupgarin pulled me away from my thoughts. As I turned from David to the old rogue, his transformation reached completion, and he fell to all fours. Even crouched and ready to spring, he was almost as tall as Lucius and I.
Again he howled with a curdling wail, and my skin tried to crawl away from my body, my eardrums close to rupturing. With his master’s yowl, the valerian-sickened underling lunged at Lucius, who ended his newly turned existence with a single strike. Loupgarin loped away into the night, seeking his next conquest.
Gazing at Lucius, I watched him shaking with need, much like David, but with many more years of experience in the ancient’s ways, better prepared to handle the beast’s denial. Both he and David sagged with relief as I rushed to Lucius’s side. Most of his wounds appeared superficial as were David’s, but he fisted my shirt front and spoke words that filled me with dread. “Ms. Jennings, we must get to her before Loupgarin makes his way to her. He means to kill her or turn her, one way or the other.”
With a fresh burst of fear, I left him to care for Isabella, with Anton and Donny still in residence. Taking David, we fled the pompous house to find the much smaller one in Lake Park. Loupgarin had already searched the neighborhood, knew where he’d be able to slither in and out, to go unnoticed.
Her guards would be no match for the old vampire. They would be tinder under his claws. Michela would be left unprotected with no place to hide. The need to possess her would crawl like an itch along the skin of his belly, one he was determined to fulfill. To take what he had claimed for his. This I could not have, would not have. No one took what was mine, not human, not vampire, or a Godforsaken wolf.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
David and I followed the scent of the old vampire. Our one hope was to try to find his trail, and once found, take him before he reached Michela. But would we be in time? My heart thundered with fear. As the wolf, he’d be slower and he’d have to travel with greater caution. His ability to fold the night around himself would be nonexistent, but buildings offered shadowy places to hide … alleyways, passages. Maybe he didn’t need to fold the night. We followed his trail, getting closer and closer.
So far, the humans at the party of vampires had been lucky. The ones who didn’t survive the early evening attack would meet a burial by fire. One sure way of keeping the knowledge of our society a secret. The ones who were merely injured, not bled to the point of death, or forced to drink the rogue’s blood, would be spared without their memories. Any others would not be so lucky. There wouldn’t be any new turnings tonight. Without being a true skin-shifter, no new half-beastlings would prowl the streets wit
h the next full moon either. For those small blessings, I thanked the gods.
The everyday sounds of people living dwindled in our presence as if knowing something strange, something not human roamed the streets on this night. The constant traffic of the suburban life crawled to a halt. The only sounds to interrupt our thoughts were the occasional howls of dogs, most probably set off by the unnatural odor of the wolf, but even those grew few and far between.
Moving swiftly, but with care, we made our way to the Jennings’s home in record time. It was dark inside and out when we arrived, and I hoped Michela had gotten spooked and moved to a better fortified location, but in my heart, I feared the worst. She could be lying in a pool of her own blood and for no other reason than being part of the Vintonie family. What had Anton Vintonie done? I asked myself again. I didn’t know, but I’d be damned if I wasn’t finding out.
David and I crept up alongside the house in Lake Park, and sneaking a glance through a low window, I could see no movement or flash of light. Cautiously we entered the home to find another blood bath, but I was certain we’d arrived before Loupgarin. With trepidation, I lifted my face and tasted the air and terror found a new home in my heart. He hadn’t found a way to beat us to Michela, but one of his underlings had. It meant we’d wasted precious time and energy following a false trace left by the master of deception.
From the amount of destruction, the attack at the Vintonie house had been but a distraction. I concentrated on Michela’s own distinctive scent. It surrounded her like a cloud, and it filled my senses. Dread clutched whatever was left of my soul. Grabbing David’s arm, I raced in the direction the fragrance led, hoping to find Michela alive. We sped through the vastness of the night, cloudless and bright with starlight, finally coming to one of the few houses carefully maintained in the district Vintonie called home. Only the older houses stood the true test of time, and the owners of this home refused to give in to hopelessness. I didn’t want to think about what happened to them.
Michela’s essence was strongest here, but so was Loupgarin’s. Guardedly, we entered the home to find the walls splashed with blood, but weeks old—at least the last occupants of the place hadn’t lasted long. Focusing on Michela, I heard whimpering in one of the back rooms, and we treaded on silent feet. The flavor of salty-copper, both old and fresh, coated my throat. One was unique to me. My fear grew with the each passing second. We moved with caution. A rash movement might cause the old rogue to kill her quicker. Before we could enter the room, we spied the underling, lying in wait. He hoped to provide for his maker again, to protect his master, a foolish mistake.
David clamped a hand around my arm, brushing his power against mine, and with a single thought, Find the woman … he was gone. The underling’s neck held in his powerful grip. He dragged the mad vampire away, almost without any effort from the house, into the yard, and further still, before I felt his beast roar with life.
With as much stealth as I could muster, I peered into the room where Michela lay trapped by the vampire who had lost all reason by this time. He’d stripped her bare, taking almost delicate bites from around her naked body, biding his time. He drew on her fear and pain, and his words drifted to me.
“Oh, my sweet, delicious girl. It’s a shame you must die. You’re nearly good enough to keep, even with your stink of humanity.” Loupgarin flung his head back and chortled. “Soon, very soon, my lovely.” He stopped and pierced her flesh once more. “I want to make sure Vintonie remembers his loss, he understands what his deeds bought him.”
He lifted his head. “And Lucius Draco too,” he continued to explain. “To kill the love his family has for him, to kill his only made son … Ah … now that I can live with.” Again, he laughed. “Young one, I’ve tasted you … know you,” he called, eyes never leaving his prey. “Come out. You’re here because I let you live. Hurry to me, young one. Help me take this life.”
I stepped out of the shadows.
“Ah, there you are, Benedict.”
“Old one, you don’t need to end her. Have me,” I offered in a bargain. “Lucius cares nothing for this human woman, but I am his only child.”
He stopped and considered for a moment. “You think not?”
“He does not.”
“But you do.” He cocked his head. “You think you love this … bit of humanity. Young one, I could teach you so much … but … I fear you are lost too. You and Draco, care more for this human … rabble … than our kind.” His body shook for a moment. Laughter. “Soon you’ll know the pain of loss.” His bloody-colored eyes found mine. He sucked in a breath, his baying laugh rang my ears, making my mind ache, drawing me up short. His crazed thoughts bled into mine. His mania for vengeance nearing completion.
“This isn’t the revenge you desire. You’re fight is with Lucius, with me, my family. You needn’t hurt her anymore.” This was like trying to reason with a wild animal. “Take me.” I proposed again, baring my chest, offering my heart. “Here, finish what you started.”
He threw back his head and laughed. “So naive. So young. You haven’t learned anything in all the years I let you have. But, you will. All of you,” he sneered, flinging back his head, fangs ragged and sharp.
Her intoxicating flavor entered my senses. Even as I raced into the room, he reared back. He had sensed my thoughts, knew I wanted him dead, but not at the cost of Michela’s life.
We were all pawns in his desire to take, take, take.
Greedily, he plunged, slashing deeply one last time, letting her rich blood flow over him from the gaping wound. Her heart pounded harder to push blood through her body quicker, and with each hammering thud, her pulse weakened.
With anger born of frustration and regret, I roared with injustice and leaped on the sloped back of the old vampire who was relishing his flawed dementia. I jerked him away, to no avail, my strength failing me. I grabbed at his throat, and tore at his head, causing him to be careless where caution was needed. As he made to finish the job, the cold fist of horror clamped around my heart.
Finally snapping the small bones in his neck, I threw him aside and knelt next to Michela, lifting her into my arms.
I glanced back at Loupgarin. His body struggled to heal itself, too much of his energy had been expended changing from wolf and back again.
Gently, I eased her back down to rest upon the cold hard floor and leaned over Loupgarin.
He had the where with all to grin back, and I heard the words, “Too late,” before ripping his throat open, separating his head from his shoulders. The old vampire had lost himself in the bloodlust, his fatal mistake.
Dropping what remained of the already deteriorating body, I wiped my hands free of the gore before returning to Michela. She deserved better than to be touched by the blood of her killer.
My beast roared in pain as I gazed upon my mate.
This couldn’t be happening, not now. I’d only just found her.
Her heart was making a valiant effort to continue to beat, and as I listened it faltered. Death’s sickle clicked close to my ear, covetous of his reward.
I dragged a sheet from a nearby bed, allowing her nakedness to be covered, a final dignity. Crimson colored the white. Weakly she gazed up at me, trying to show me a brave smile. But I could see she knew death was coming and there was little I could do to prevent it. Too much had been taken, too little humanity left to save.
In all my years as a vampire, I hadn’t turned another, never wishing to share my gift … my undead existence with another. But as I gathered her in my arms, as I kissed her pale lips that called to me from the first sound of her voice, with haste I explored the possibilities. If I did nothing, her heart would stop, and I would lose her forever. Death or undead? Could I take what little life there was left? Did she desire or deserve my fate? Now, I understood Lucius’s longing and despair.
Peering down as life started to leave her glorious eyes, her brightness began to dim. I asked the question that had been asked me all those centurie
s ago. “Do you want to live? I’ve told you my story and you know my life. Can you accept my fate?” Tears slowly tunneled down my cheeks, leaving a bloody trace in their wake. For her, I would do the unthinkable. For her, I would give not only my heart, but my life.
Tears welled in her eyes. As her breaths grew shallow, she raised a shaky hand, reaching for my cheek. “If I could choose, it would be to stay with you.” The strength fled her body as her hand dropped away.
Death stood over my shoulder, eager for his prize. As selfish as it sounded, I couldn’t let her leave me. I wanted to cheat the unholy angel, if only a little. As her life slipped through my fingers, I bent to steal the last of it, tenderly slipping my fangs into her already pierced and bruised body.
As her light faded, I ripped the flesh of my wrist, my body trembling with dread. What if I had waited too long? What if she didn’t turn? What if she was immune to the vampire virus? What if I did everything right and it still turned out wrong? What if she never awoke from the vampiric embrace? What if, what if, what if? Had I done it right? Fear stirred deep within my frozen heart as I gazed upon the woman of my dreams, of my love, the only hope for my undead life.
My blood flowed freely as I held my wrist to her mouth. “Please drink, you must. Otherwise, I’ll lose you forever.” I begged her to take what I could give, and I forgot the questions screaming in my head. Lucius intruded into my thoughts, grimness along with understanding. But also I felt his regret, for what he had become, what he had done, and what I needed to do too. As the seconds ticked by with no response from the woman lying in my arms, my limbs started to quiver. I’d done something wrong—she wasn’t drinking. I’d waited too long. I could feel the pressure building inside me. I wouldn’t lose her. I wouldn’t! As I watched her lay unmoving in my arms, desperate tears rained from my eyes. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, she licked her blood encrusted lips.
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