by Debra Dunbar
Solange leaned forward.
"She kissed me, Solange. It was the deepest, longest kiss she ever gave me." He put his hand to his lips. "It was a kiss full of pain, and pleasure, and sickness."
"Sickness?"
"I was sick for several days, and then I was fine." He lowered his hand. "I knew my neck had snapped, Solange. But within a few days I was walking, talking and feeling well. The doctor was baffled. He confirmed my neck was broken, and I can still remember hearing my sister begging my father to put me out of my misery."
"She…she wanted him to kill you?"
Robert gave her a slight, sad smile and a nod. "She did. But he refused. And when I made a full recovery…" he held out his arms. "She was incensed."
"Did…did she have something to do with the accident?"
"Jacqueline was sure of it, and kept an eye on me, protecting me from her. But," he sighed. "Catherine realized what Jacqueline was thinking, knew she'd tried to warn my father against her. That's when Catherine told him about us, about Jacqueline and I. She set us up to get caught and Jacqueline fled."
Solange finished up her wine and licked her lips. Things were starting to fall into place, pieces of a puzzle she hadn't seen before. "But…you always said you were afraid of Jacqueline."
"Yes. What no one has ever mentioned was Jacqueline's nocturnal habits. She was never seen before six in the evening, and disappeared at sunup. I never saw her eat, though she came to dinner with the rest of us, and always claimed she ate later or earlier. I noticed, but no one else seemed to. We never met in the day, always at night. And always in the woods."
"You were riding a horse at night?
Robert laughed. "Only you would notice that little detail now. Yes. I was riding at horse at night because I was on my way to meet with her. That's how she was able to get to me first. It wasn't long after that when Catherine made her move and Jacqueline…vanished."
Solange looked at her lover. Thought about the day, waiting for him in the blacksmith. Thought about him leaving her on that roof.
"Then you came to work for Catherine. I fell in love with you. You filled a void in me I didn't know was there. You weren't a replacement for Jacqueline. You never have been. You became my light and my reason to keep living, Solange." He came to her and held out his hand. She took it. It was cold, and hard and smooth. "It was Catherine that told father about you and I. And it was Catherine who suggested we go to Havana, that I join in service to the EITC."
"To get you away from me."
He shook his head. "No."
Solange frowned.
"To kill me, and father."
She stood then, knocking the chair out from under her. "No…"
"The attack on the ship was arranged."
"She…Catherine hired the Pirates?"
He stepped back, releasing her hand. "No. They weren't pirates. But they were dressed to look like pirates, so that chosen survivors would spread the tale. And they did, quite successfully." He moved to the window and looked out. The full moon illuminated his beautiful face. "I wasn't a chosen survivor." He turned and looked at her.
A frown creased Solange's brow. She thought she understood what he was getting at, but… "You did survive."
He shook his head. "No. I didn't."
She searched his face, took a step toward him. Hesitantly, she put her hand on his chest and waited. There was nothing. No beat of his heart. After a few seconds, she realized he wasn't breathing either. With a bolt of shock she jumped back from him, eyes wide. How…how could she have not noticed these things when he held her? When he kissed her?
Solange put his fingers to her lips. "But you…" And then a word came to her. One she heard her mother use sometimes, during full moons when they walked along Bourbon Street and she pulled Solange along the sidewalks and avoided the eyes in the dark. "Ondéd."
A Haitian Creole word that meant, undead.
She didn't expect Robert to nod. She didn't expect him to stay where he was, by the window. The ondéd were monsters, creatures that stole children from their cribs and sucked their blood. They were night terrors and something…something Solange had never truly believed in. As a monster he should be tearing her apart, sucking her blood, killing her now that she knew his secret.
But Robert…simply watched her. Unmoving. So hauntingly still as stone.
They stood like that, in the moonlight, staring at one another. Until Robert sighed. "I do not wish you dead, Solange. I wish you to live a very, very long life. I wish…I want…you to be happy. I want you to be free."
These words…these were the same words he had always said to her after a night of passion. He wanted her with him. And even now, having cheated Baron Samedi past the crossroads… "How?" She heard herself say. "How did this happen?"
"Jacqueline. I told you about her habits? The ones no one seemed to notice but me." He finally stepped forward.
"She's ondéd?"
"Aye. When she left, she came back here, to the Caribbean, because this is where her family is. Where," he held out his arms. "Her ship is."
Solange turned and faced the painting of Robert and…Jacqueline.
"Yes that is my Maker."
She looked back at him and he was close. She stepped back.
"You have nothing to fear. Jacqueline kept an eye on me because when she healed me all those years ago, she fed me her blood. That was how I recovered. She learned of the ship sailing with me and my father on board. She also knew about the payoff."
"How?"
"Because she is a pirate, Solange. As am I." He smiled, exposing long fangs.
Solange fought the urge to run from him, remembering that he was…is…her Robert.
"She crept on board and gave me her blood again. I didn't know, at the time. She moved in secret. And when we were attacked, I was killed." He straightened. "She pulled me from the water and I was reborn. Alive. And with every memory of what happened intact."
Solange glanced back at the pictures again, and then at Robert. Jacqueline had done this. Had remade him, saved him from the dark depths of the waters of the Caribbean. "Where is she now?"
"Around. She gave me the Dawn's Justice and her crew is ever fierce in their loyalty. To her. And to me." He was beside her now, his hands on her shoulders. "You have a decision to make, now Solange. Those who want me in my final grave may come after you as well. Especially Catherine, who knows you mean everything to me. When you return to her, she will want to know where you've been, if you were with me, and what my response was to her demands."
"But…why do I have to return to her? Why can't I stay here with you?"
"Because nothing is finished, Solange. She will never stop coming after our family's money."
Solange put her hands to his face. His skin was cool, and smooth, but she felt her heart skip when she thought of those lips touching hers. "Then give it to her. You don't need it and you can't go back."
"Perhaps. But shouldn't she be punished for what she did to me? To my father?" He leaned in and kissed her forehead. "Pack your things, and I will come for you, my love. And tell her…" he smiled and his fangs were even more prominent than before. "My answer is no."
Solange arrived at the estate in style the next morning. Robert sent her home in a nice dress, inside of a clean, gilded coach. She barely noticed. Her head spun with the things Robert told her. The lies and deception and the very idea her lover was actually dead, a corpse reanimated with blood. She'd heard of such creatures. Ondéd.
Vampire.
A part of her believed she should be frightened, confessing to a Priest what she'd seen. She should drive a stake through his heart.
But the part of her that loved him, that adored him, that pined for him, knew it was Robert's heart. And no matter what had happened to him on the outside, on the inside, he was still the man she loved. And the man who loved her.
When she first heard of Jacqueline, she felt jealousy. What woman wouldn't? But this woman, this monster, had saved his
life. She'd made sure Robert's sister's plots never touched him. Destroyed whatever her plans had been.
The arrival of the coach with Solange inside caused a slight commotion as Catherine and her uncle greeted her at the door. She expected Catherine, at least, would reprimand her. But instead she had her uncle escort Solange into the parlor and told some of the servants to bring tea. Some of the staff gave her odd looks, while others winked before they rushed off.
Uncle George didn't say anything after he gestured for her to sit down in the parlor. He stood by the window, watching as the sun continued rising outside. It amazed Solange how different everything looked in the light of day. Especially how visible Catherine's age was beneath the thick powder on her face. Maybe it was standing before a creature of physical perfection that influenced her to make the comparison now. Or maybe it was the light that revealed the truth.
Catherine closed the door, and Solange's heart skipped when she locked it.
"Where is the man I left with you?"
Solange took in a deep breath and clasped her hands in her lap. "He's gone. He won't be back."
"Robert killed him, didn't he?" Uncle George said.
Solange didn't answer.
"You saw him?" Catherine moved to stand uncomfortably close to Solange, looking down her hawklike nose.
"Yes."
"Did he get the letter at least?"
"Yes."
"And?"
Solange took another deep breath, careful not to start hyperventilating. She'd never been one for confrontation. Always preferring to be the invisible one in the room. But that time seemed to be at an end. "His answer is no."
The slap nearly knocked her off the sofa. Solange put her hand to her burning cheek and stared at the floor, focusing on a pattern in the Oriental rug.
"I told you he wouldn't agree," Uncle George said. "Remember, I know your brother better than you do. Though I am surprised he would send back what he considers to be most precious."
Solange looked up at him. What…what did he mean? Was he a part of Catherine's plans? All this time she had always believed him above her, better than her. Clean of her evil doings. But now it sounded as if George Guillot was a co-conspirator.
"I want to know how he survived," Catherine said as she started pacing. "I was assured by three men, three who I paid gold to, that they saw his dead body."
"They lied."
"Then when I find them they will die as well." She stopped her pacing and moved back to Solange, who sat up and faced her Mistress. "Did he tell you how he survived?"
It was time to lie again. "He only told me to tell you no."
Catherine hit her again. This time Solange tasted blood in her mouth and felt the cut in her lip with her tongue. "What does he want?"
She swallowed the blood, thinking in the back of her mind that it had a very familiar taste, before she answered. "He asked me to tell you to get out of his father's house. That you will receive nothing from him. And that he will be returning to New Orleans to ensure you," She glanced at Uncle George. "And anyone who conspired with you, would be sent to prison."
"Oh really…" She put her hands on her hips.
Solange swallowed. "He also said if you wish to challenge him…you and Uncle George were to meet him on board the Dawn's Justice."
George gasped. "The pirate ship?"
She looked at him. "It will be in the harbor tonight. Midnight."
"Now I understand," Catherine said as she moved to the desk. "Those bastards didn't kill him. They rescued him, didn't they? And they've kept him alive these past three years. I'm pretty sure he's offered them wealth in return. And he plans on paying them off with my money."
Solange gave the answer she was told to give. "Yes."
"Not if I have anything to do with it." Catherine spat as she pulled out a pistol from the desk drawer and aimed it at Solange.
"No!" Uncle George shouted as he moved.
Catherine fired and Solange felt something hit her chest. She tried gasping for breath but couldn't as blood welled up her throat and pooled over her lower lip. She stared, wide eyed at Catherine, as she lost control of her body and fell over onto the couch, and then on the floor.
She stared ahead, unable to move, watching her blood as it soaked the carpet beneath her. She could hear. And she could feel, though mostly she was…cold.
"Why did you do that?" Uncle George said. He was angry. Very angry.
"Because my brother pissed me off. And like you said, he was stupid enough to send her back to me." The floor vibrated as Catherine moved around the room. "Oh don't look at me like that. He knew sending her to me would be her death sentence. He doesn't care about her, or about anyone." She moved again and Solange felt the push of air as Catherine's skirts moved by. "Come. We have plans to make for tonight."
Solange heard the lock click.
"But…what about Solange? We can't just leave her here."
"Yes we can. Lock the door behind you and tell no one to enter this room. Then once my brother's really dead, we'll burn the place to the ground. No one is going to care about a half-breed servant."
She listened to them go, head the lock click again. Was it possible…what Catherine had said? That by sending her to his sister, Robert had sealed her death? He had apologized for what would happen. He had assured her that everything would work itself out, and they would be together.
Her soul gave a long, mournful cry as she felt the last of her breath leave her body, and the intricate weave of the rug darkened.
It was cold at first, when Solange could feel her fingers again. She moved them slowly. Her body felt unnaturally light…but stiff. At first there was just the dark, so she blinked a few times and the world came through bright and clear. She focused on the intricate, thin threads of gold and red and green in front of her. Each one wound around the other and if she looked deeper, she could see the specs of dye on each strand.
Voices brought her attention back to her body and she pushed herself up into a sitting position. She was on the floor. The moon, so round and bright, illuminated the world around her, giving everything a kind of ethereal glow. The voices intensified and she looked at the door to the parlor.
"No, I thought I heard something."
"I still think we should go in."
"No, no. M'Lady said no one was to go in there!"
The last was a whisper, but to Solange it was as loud and clear as thunder.
My love…
A voice. It danced in the air around her. And it drew her attention to the window. When she stood she saw the sparkling water in the distance, and saw the sails of her lover's ship.
Come to me.
Robert's voice. Lulling her.
But there was a smell here. Something…wonderful. It was tangy and delicious as she turned from the window and slowly made her way to the door.
No.
Something stopped her. A single word. A command.
That is not for you.
Oh but the scents. Were they cooking something different in the kitchen? Would they give her a taste? She thought she heard music as well. A sort of rhythm that penetrated her chest and called to her very core.
To me, Solange. You cannot have them.
She turned quick, her skirts pinwheeling around her. "R-Robert?"
Yes. Come to me Solange. Come and let us serve justice.
Justice. The word felt good as she clutched her stomach as an gnawing ache began. "My stomach…"
You're hungry. Let me feed you, my love. Follow my voice. Follow my love for you.
Her hand at her middle, she made her way to the window. She moved the chair to it and stepped up and carefully placed her slippers on the ledge. She looked down, saw people in the courtyard. Someone spotted her and cried out. But she didn't care. She looked out over the water and there in the bay and with a single leap, transcended the physical laws that had once bound her to the Earth, and moved above it all.
They were there, on board the Da
wn's Justice. Her murderer, Catherine, and a large group of men in blue uniforms. Solange didn't recognize them as she landed easily on the uppermost mast and looked down at them and listened.
"I demand to see my brother!"
One of the shipmates, a man with a red bandana, took a step toward her. "We said, the Captain ain't taking no guests. Now I'll say it again, Yer Ladyship. Get off this ship."
"By the Queen's guard you will bring me my brother!" Catherine yelled.
But the others, the ones not in uniforms, the ones who seemed none to worried with armed soldiers aboard the ship, only laughed.
"Kill them all," Catherine ordered.
The unformed men raised their muskets and aimed at the unmoving crew.
"Hold," came a single voice.
It was a man's voice, but it wasn't Robert's. Someone snaked an arm around her middle and she turned and nearly cried out before Robert put a finger to his own lip and smiled at her. She looked at him, amazed at his beauty…and his smell. He smelled so….good.
Robert jumped, lifting the two of them into the air and landed easily in the Crow's Nest where he bit into his exposed wrist. Solange gasped at the scent…the marvelous, incredible aroma of his blood as it welled up on his white skin. She grabbed his wrist and wrapped her lips over the fount and drank deep.
"Who are you?" Catherine's voice rose from below.
"Don't you recognize me?"
It was that voice that brought her out of her meal and she pulled reluctantly away from her lover's wrist. Her curiosity won out as she looked over the edge of the nest and saw a man emerge from below. He stepped out into the moonlight and Solange gasped.
Just as George and Catherine did.
"I see you do…daughter."
"F-father?" Catherine stepped forward, her hands out in front of her. The hood of her cloak felt back, revealing her blond curls. "You…you're dead."
"Yes. In a manner of speaking. Thanks to the two of you." He lifted a hand and waggled his index finger at them. "Clever plan, really. Convince me I needed to take Robert to Havana. Used my dedication to the EITC to do it. Truth was," he stood in front of her. "I knew what you were planning. So I made my own plans." He looked up.
