Her head nestled against my shoulder and my arms circled her tighter. “All I can say is you've surpassed any fantasy I've ever had.” Her lips brushed my throat.
“As you have mine. I think we've been sharing them.” I chuckled, this had never happened to me before, but at least it explained the dreams that had recurred since meeting Sheree. “You're mine, and I'll be damned to let you go now.”
*****
A false sense of security settled over me as we waited for morning, could I keep my mate safe? I'd already taken care of one monster in her life, what was one more? But I had forgotten my own rule about human lovers, they are fragile things, easily crushed beneath a harsh hand. Her fragile existence remained mine to guard.
Moving from window to window, I watched the night grow older, waiting for something to happen. Vanic touched my thoughts and I let him know so far, everything was fine. But the feeling in my gut, the one that kept my beast alert, was saying danger wasn't far. Lifting my face to the night air, the scent of the poisoned rogue wafted over me. Brushing Vanic's mind again, we relayed and processed the information. He confirmed the scent of Valerian as well, but would Loupgarin strike tonight?
*****
It happened when I least expected it at the Crifaseno home. He moved through Franc's guard like an avenging angel through a mob of demons, only this avenger was a vampiric beast instead of an angelic guardian. Vanic reached out, grabbed my thoughts, as the vampire struck. “He's here, Crisfaseno's guards are decimated, he's storming the house...”
Gathering Sheree close, I explained what was happening, and she urged me to go, help my family. I called in her guards, ushering them into the house to surround the one thing more precious than life. With little choice, I bolted the door with my exit, hoping to return as quickly as possible. I sped to the Crifaseno home and right into the middle of a blood bath.
Bodies in various stages of dismemberment were scattered across the grounds. Hearts ripped out, heads, arms, legs, entrails... some baring fang marks. But the battle continued to rage inside the house, I could hear the calls of the dying, and of my family.
Vanic felt my presence and touched me. “Hurry...we've lost most of the guards and house staff... Loupgarin, I can't....” Fear rode high in my mind, both for my family and my new found love.
Bursting through the unhinged door, I blurred from room to room, finally at the rear of the house, all of ten minutes had passed from the time of leaving Sheree until this minute, but it was nine too many. The rogue vampire and an underling stood between Vanic and Raymond, bearing battle scars, bloodied and clawed. Sarah and Franc Crifaseno were nowhere to be seen. Then I felt the faint brush of Sarah in my thoughts, an underling had caught up to them, she was between the newly turned and Crifaseno, putting up a valiant effort to thwart his desires.
Vanic burst into my thoughts with one word, Go!
The safe room, where Franc and Donny had taken refuge, stood in disarray. Here too, the door lay in shambles, pulled away from the wall. Donny lay at Sarah's feet, bleeding but breathing, and Franc bore several wounds, but managed to keep his feet. Sarah had called her beast, and the bloodlust beat against the walls of the small room.
As I entered, the battle for Franc Crifaseno was underway. Sarah growled low in her throat as the underling made his play. Though Sarah wasn't as old as Vanic or myself, she had one thing the newly turned did not, untiring strength. Bloodlust is a powerful force, but the young vampire couldn't see beyond it, there wasn't a way to wait her out. If Loupgarin had trained the newly turned, he would have realized his mistake.
Sarah stepped into the young vampire's path, taking the brunt of its claws across her abdomen, and still she fought as her blood splashed the floor, lashing out as the underling's cheek fell open in a huge ugly gouge. She rolled away from the young vampire, but as luck would have it, he reached out in time to brush one claw across her chest, not a killing wound, but a debilitating one. Blood blossomed fresh over her blouse. Her eyes grew wide as she slipped to the floor, resting upon Donny's body and the bloodlust pounded harder with the need to heal.
“Hang on, Sarah, just a few more minutes.” I stepped to the underling, breaking his ribs with one powerful thrust, grabbing his heart, and with the other hand, his throat. His head flopped sideways as it fell from his shoulders. Pushing his body aside, I knelt next to Sarah, offering my wrist, but she shook her head, a new pink scar replaced the wound.
With Sarah healing and Donny and Franc still in the land of the living, I blurred back to Vanic 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 particular brand of madness. “The things I've been shown. One day, humans will learn to stay out of vampire dealings, Crifaseno has earned my vengeance. I'll finish him and his family then I'll finish you and yours too. The Council will meet my justice, I owe them plenty.” His head hung low to his chest, eyes glowing a brilliant red, 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.
But the old rogue had caught my attention with his words, and again I wondered, what was Franc's true crime?
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 was summarily murdered by the Vampire Hierarchy in a wild hunt through the streets of London. The human population knew him as Jack the Ripper.
Then as now, it should have been the Hierarchy dealing with the rogue, and not the Tepes family. The Council had either refused to acknowledge the torture, ignoring the fact that Loupgarin suffered at Rafael's hands. Or, they no longer held the ancient in their regard, and knowingly permitted the punishment to continued until insanity met mania. Could it all be for a perceived feud between Loupgarin and Rafael, now centuries old? Yet they allowed Rafael to hide in the Council's protection. It was through their inadequacies and failures that the mad vampire was loose upon the human population, expecting the Tepes family to eliminate a problem of their own making. Something was off, if only I could put on finger on it. Not even the Council operated with this much convolution.
As we watched, fur erupted from his flesh, bloodied with the kills of the night. His face elongated into a snout, his limbs shook. His shoulders bunched, 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 Raymond's thoughts, much bigger and wilder. He opened his maw in a wide yawn, showing row upon row of sharp bloody teeth.
As mad as Loupgarin was, he tried to talk to Vanic 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 life giving, I'd kill the whole race, the whole lot of them one at a time.” His hot fetid breath laced with Valerian wafted through the room, it stank of old death as he gurgled out a laugh.
Glancing around the room, I found Raymond with his back pressed against the wall, hands clenched in tight fists as he waited and watched. His strength bunched in his restless hands, demanding to find release. I brushed against his thoughts, if there was a time to release his beast, it was now. But still he watched, new anger bloomed in his darkly hooded eyes.
He peered back at me anxiously, yearning, and I realized that he was unable to attack his maker, something about Loupgarin kept Raymond's beast at bay. It begged for release, but it could find none, not as long as
he was in direct contact with his maker. Vanic had said his maker was old and powerful, possibly one of the originals called by the Earth Mother. Now I believed as he did, Loupgarin had spoken the truth.
Pushing Raymond away from the battle would be impossible, he wanted to see the old vampire die, and I could hardly find fault. He wanted and needed vengeance, if it could not be by his hand, then by mine. I wondered if Vanic suffered the same problem 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.
With a howl that bled out and into the night, Loupgarin pulled me away from my thoughts. As I turned from Raymond 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 Vanic and I. Again he howled with a blood-curdling wail, and my skin tried to crawl away from my body, my eardrums close to bursting. With his master's howl, the underling lunged at Vanic, who ended the new turn's existence with a single strike. Loupgarin loped away into the night, seeking his next conquest.
Gazing at Vanic, I watched him shaking with need, much like Raymond, but with many more years of experiencing the ancient's ways, better prepared to handle the beast. Both he and Raymond sagged with relief as I rushed to Vanic's side. Most of his wounds appeared superficial, as were Raymond'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 Sarah, with Franc and Donny still in residence. Taking Raymond, 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. Sheree would be left unprotected with no place to hide. It 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. I had already claimed her to be mine. No one took what was mine, not human, not vampire, or a Godforsaken wolf.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Raymond and I followed the scent of the old vampire, knowing full well where he would be heading. Our one hope was to take him before he reached Sheree. In the form of the wolf, he'd be slower and have to travel with greater caution. His ability to fold the night around himself would be nonexistent, but buildings offered shadowy places to hide. We followed his scent, 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 been 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 vampiric turnings tonight. Loupgarin was not a true were, no new half-beastlings would prowl the streets with the next full moon either. For those small blessings, I thanked the gods.
The sounds of humans dwindled in our presence as if they knew some strange beast, something not human roamed the streets on thisnight. 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 likely set off by the unnatural scent of the wolf, and even those were 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 Sheree had gotten spooked and moved to another location, but 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 Crifaseno family. What had Franc Crifaseno done? I didn't know, but I'd be damned if I wasn't finding out.
Raymond and I crept up along side of 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 scented the air and fear found a new home in my heart. He hadn't found a way to beat us to Sheree, but one of his underlings had. It meant we'd wasted precious time and energy following a false trail left by the master of deception.
From the amount of destruction, the attack at the Crifaseno house had been but a distraction. I concentrated on Sheree's own distinctive scent, warmed vanilla surrounded her like a cloud, and it filled my senses. Fear clutched my heart. Grabbing Raymond's arm, I raced in the direction the scent led, hoping to find Sheree alive and breathing at this point. We sped through the night filled with the brightness of starlight, finally coming to one of the few houses carefully maintained in the district Crifaseno called home. Only older homes stood the true test of time, and the owners of this home refused to give in to hopelessness. I didn't what to think about what might have happened to them.
Sheree's scent was strongest here but so was Loupgarin's. Guardedly, we entered the second home to find the walls splashed with blood, but weeks old—at least their pain was over. Focusing on Sheree, I heard whimpering in one of the back rooms, and we treaded quietly. My fear grew with the each passing moment. 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, laying in wait for us. He hoped to take us, to protect his master, a foolish mistake.
Raymond clamped a hand around my arm, brushing his power against mine, and with a single thought, Find the girl... he was gone. The underling's neck was in his powerful grip. He dragged the mad vampire away, almost without effort from the house. He moved across the yard, then further still, before I felt his beast roar with life.
With as much stealth as I could muster, I peered into the room where Sheree laid bound by the vampire, who had lost all reason by this time. He was taking almost delicate bites from around her naked body, piercing her flesh with his fangs, taking 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 have to die. You're almost good enough to keep, even with your stink of humanity.” Loupgarin flung his head back and chortled. “Soon, very soon, my love.” He stopped and pierced her flesh once more. “I want to make sure your father remembers his loss, that he remembers what his deeds bought him. And Vanic too.” Again he laughed. “Young one, hurry to me, help me take this life,” he called out.
Then her intoxicating scent filled my senses, even as I raced to burst into the room, he reared back with a maniacal laugh. He had sensed my presence, even knew my desires.
“There you are young one. Soon you'll know the pain of loss too.” His bloody eyes found mine, his laughter filled my ears, making my mind ache, and drawing me up short. His crazed thoughts bled into mine, his mania of revenge was nearly complete. If he could take for himself what was mine, the birth of vengeance against Vanic would have begun. We were all pawns in his desire to take, take, take.
Greedily, he plunged 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 hard thud, her pulse weakened. With anger born of frustration and fear, I roared with injustice and leaped on the sloped back of the old vampire who was relishing his flawed dementia, causing him to be careless where caution was needed. As he made to finish the job, I grabbed him by the throat, fear like a cold fist clamped around my heart.
Snapping the small bones in his neck, I threw him aside, and knelt next to Sheree, lifting her head 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 har
d floor, and leaned over Loupgarin. He had the wherewithal to grin up at me, and I heard the words, “you're too late,” before I ripped his throat open, separating his head from his shoulders. The old vampire had lost himself in the bloodlust, his fatal mistake. My beast roared in pain as I gazed upon my mate.
Dropping what remained of the already deteriorating body, I wiped my hands free of the gore before returning to Sheree. She deserved better than to be touched by the blood of her killer. Her heart was making a valiant effort to continue to beat, and as I listened it faltered. I grabbed a sheet from a nearby bed, allowing her nakedness to be covered, a final dignity. Weakly she looked 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 left.
In all my years as a vampire, I hadn't turned anyone. I had never wished to bring the same undead life to another. But as I gather Sheree in my arms, as I kissed her pale lips that had called to me from the moment I saw her, I explored the possibilities of sharing my vampirism. If I did nothing, her heart would stop, and I would lose her forever. Death was coming, either way. Could I take what little life there was left? Did she desire or deserve my fate? Now, I understood Vanic's longing and despair.
Gazing 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 centuries ago. “Do you want to live? I've told you my story, you know my life. Can you accept my fate?” Tears slowly tracked down my cheeks, leaving a bloody trace. For her, I would do the unthinkable. For her, I would give not only my heart, but my life.
Tears formed in her eyes, as her breaths grew shallow and she weakly reached 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 waited to claim his prize. As selfish as it sounded, I couldn't let her leave me, I wanted to cheat death, 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.
Vlad Tepes, the Vigilante Vampire Page 17
