Vermilion Justice

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Vermilion Justice Page 7

by Sheri Lewis Wohl


  Rodolphe was supposed to have killed her. Instead, he made her his partner. No, not his partner…his pet. He’d taught her to hunt and to kill. He’d turned her into a vampire who needed to feed on blood to survive. He believed he’d found a perfect complement to his own depraved personality, only he’d been wrong. He took her life, but he never came close to capturing her soul.

  Riah had come to hate what she was and the thing that had made her. It was here in the land now known as Romania that she put an end to his reign of violence and terror. She left Catherine Tudor behind as she boarded a ship for the new world, never expecting to set foot here again. On that long-ago night, dread had made her sick to her stomach. The same feeling assaulted her now while she gazed out the window as the lights of Bucharest grew bigger and brighter.

  *

  As suddenly as it started, it stopped. The roar of noise certain to pierce her eardrums fell away until Lura was once again surrounded by total silence. Had she hit her head somewhere along the line, explaining the sounds, lights, and smells?

  When she’d followed Alexandru from the cottage to the stones, the night air had been thick as coal, but this was even more so. Not to mention a distinct drop in temperature. On the island, the brush of winter was beginning to fall, yet on the other side of the rocks, it was downright frigid. Winter was in full command.

  She pulled the robe tighter around her and tried to get her bearings. Wasn’t happening. She was so disoriented by both the deep night and the silence she didn’t have a clue where she was anymore. It shouldn’t be this weird; it was only a few feet between where she stood now and where she’d come through the stones, yet it was as if she’d stepped into another world entirely.

  Glancing behind, she could make out the large rocks, except something wasn’t quite right. She squinted and tried to see clearly. Then she spotted it. The space between the rocks where only moments before she’d walked was different. How exactly, she wasn’t sure. But definitely different.

  Shaking her head, she turned back around. A flickering light was just ahead. What kind of light was it? Certainly not a flashlight. She moved toward it, grateful for any kind of illumination. The closer she got, the more it came into view. A torch…a torch? Who in the world used one of those outside of a good Gothic movie? Not in this day and age.

  Then she saw it. Alexandru was heading toward her, a petite woman dressed in clothes so black she nearly disappeared into the night a few feet behind him. She held the torch aloft, its light dancing off the little bit of her face not obscured by a full hood. In that tiny glow, Lura glimpsed a lovely face and deep, deep brown eyes, lips full and red. She was alluring and beautiful, a dreamlike image in what had to be a dream. She kept walking.

  “Alexandru?”

  He met her before she’d taken more than a few steps, a smile lighting up his face. He took Lura’s arm, patting her hand reassuringly. “At last. I’ve been waiting for you. I believed you were not far behind me, but it took you longer than I thought to follow through the stones. Come. I have someone you must meet.”

  Yes, it felt like he was touching her, but really, she had to be dreaming, didn’t she? It was weird here, off in a way she couldn’t put a finger on. All of a sudden another realization hit her. Alexandru wasn’t speaking English or the Romanian she’d been conversing in since landing in Bucharest. It was more a strange version of Sofia’s native tongue. Distinctly different from the dialect she’d learned at Sofia’s knee, yet she was still able to follow his words.

  When he urged her forward, she resisted for only a second. Strange as everything was at the moment, she was intrigued by the lovely woman holding the torch. “Lura, this is my sister, Nicoletta.”

  Turning to stare at him in the flickering light, she repeated, “Your sister?” Beyond the fact that his family was popping up out nowhere, where exactly had she come from?

  His smile was warm. “Yes, we have been apart for a very long time now, but tonight we are home.”

  Seriously, this was all going beyond bizarre. Lura liked to think she had an open mind, but this was outside the bubble. Granted, in the thick of night, it was hard to make out much of anything. Still, there were no cars, no other houses, no nothing that she could see. It was as if this Nicoletta had appeared out of the clear blue sky. Well, more like the pitch-black night sky.

  It all seemed strange and somehow wrong. She had nothing to base that on except instinct, and it was screaming. “I don’t understand, Alexandru. Where did she come from? I thought we were essentially alone on the island.”

  “Brother.” Nicoletta interrupted before he had a chance to respond. “We must not linger here. It is too dangerous, and we must travel far too great a distance before sunrise. Let us get her to safety, and then we can share with her the reason for this journey.”

  Nicoletta reached out and touched Lura’s other arm. She flinched and took a step backward. The electricity that shot through her arm was hot…exciting.

  “Do not worry, I will not harm you. We must hurry. It would not be safe to be found in this place.” Nicoletta’s words were low and intense, an edge of fear in them that chilled Lura to the bone. She wasn’t pretending, though what exactly they had to be afraid of she wasn’t sure.

  Alexandru’s next words didn’t help either. “She’s right, Lura. Please, follow us. I know you have many questions, and I promise to answer them when we are safe.”

  Whatever they were afraid of, she wasn’t. They were what? A hundred yards, maybe a hundred and fifty yards from the cottage. How much trouble could they get in so close to shelter? It seemed to her they were both exaggerating the situation more than a little.

  Despite the comfort of his touch, she shook off Alexandru’s arm. “I’m not following anyone anywhere. This is crazy, and you know it. We can go back to your friend’s cottage where it’s nice and warm. Then you can explain how your sister appeared out of thin air. It’s stupid to stand out here in the cold.”

  He shook his head. “I’m afraid it is not that simple. Please,” he pleaded with her. “Trust me. We must go.” The urgency in his voice was deep, and the twinge of panic she’d felt when she’d stepped between the rocks returned. Something about all of this was a long way from being right.

  Good sense told her to turn around and head back through the rocks. Curiosity said something entirely different. Gut instinct leaned in the direction of trust. Alexandru was on her side, and well, she did want to know more about the pretty mystery sister who sent her nerves tingling with a simple touch.

  Curiosity won. “Fine.” She picked up the skirt of her thick robe and began to follow. “I hope Nicoletta has a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt I can slip on. This thing is a pain in the ass, and I’m cold.” She shook the velvet skirt, sending sparkling bits of frost flying.

  Nicoletta glanced over her shoulder at Lura, giving her a puzzled look. So she liked jeans better than some girly velvet robe. What of it? This wasn’t exactly the Middle Ages, even if Nicoletta was dressed for it. She liked good old twenty-first century comfort clothes: a nice pair of well-worn Levi’s, a comfortable pair of hiking boots, and a warm hoodie. She almost groaned thinking about them.

  “Come, Lura. We will talk when we get back to the castle.” Alexandru didn’t turn to look at her, just kept moving forward at a clipped pace.

  Castle? Where exactly would that be? She hadn’t seen anything more imposing on the island than the monastery. He didn’t give her a chance to ask, taking off at a stride that brooked no resistance. It didn’t leave her much in the way of choices and so she followed him, almost running, wondering the whole time what she’d gotten herself into. He’d seemed so normal earlier.

  Chapter Seven

  Two centuries, give or take, had a way of changing things. Granted, it was full-on nighttime outside and things always looked different when the light was gone, but this wasn’t the same place she’d been in so long ago. Back then, Wallachia was falling under the influence of Russia, and the times ha
d been turbulent and dangerous. Everyone was scared, their style of life changing in ways over which they had no control. For her and Rodolphe, it all combined to create an environment for perfect hunting. He’d been ecstatic. Her…not so much.

  It also proved to be perfect for doing the one thing that would assure her freedom from Rodolphe. Not even a trace of hesitation had stopped her back then, and even after all this time, she wasn’t sorry for what she’d done. She’d made the right choice and, if she had it to do all over again, wouldn’t change a thing.

  Riah closed her eyes and tried not to think about him or that horrible last night. Wasn’t working. It was as if the simple act of touching the ground here brought everything back in an avalanche of memories and regrets. Not a single regret for killing him, only many for what had come before.

  Rodolphe brought her roses. The bouquet was huge, the flowers deep red and fragrant, tied with a soft golden cord. Catherine held them to her nose and inhaled deeply. He knew how much she missed her gardens and occasionally brought her the gift of flowers.

  Why, then, did she feel so empty? Even her beloved roses failed to lift her spirit. She sat on the brocade couch and held them close, the thorns biting into her skin, making tiny spots of blood dot her chest.

  He stood behind her and caressed her shoulders. “Ma chérie,” he whispered in her ear as he dropped kisses along her neck. “You like the roses?”

  “Yes, Rodolphe, they’re very beautiful.”

  “Like you.” He used a finger to turn her face to his and kissed her softly.

  His hands loosened the laces of her dress and slid the gown off her shoulders after he took the roses and set them aside. He licked the blood from her skin, then lowered his mouth to a bared breast. Catherine closed her eyes and allowed sensations to wash over her. He nipped lightly and she shuddered.

  “Come,” he said when he raised his head.

  She took his offered his hand, stood, and stepped out of her gown. He went down the hallway and she followed him to their bedchamber. Next door, she heard the soft cry of the child, the other gift he’d brought her this night.

  The child was beautiful, no more than a year old, with pale-blue eyes and flawless skin. Earlier, Rodolphe had proudly presented Catherine the infant, a delicacy rarely taken by any vampire. Children were forbidden, a vampire law unspoken yet universally understood. Rodolphe heeded neither man’s law nor vampire law.

  He was standing in the middle of the room, naked and aroused. Catherine didn’t think she’d ever seen a more handsome man and never would’ve believed she’d want a man like she did Rodolphe. It was more than the fact he was her maker; he was charismatic and alluring, a lover like no other. Though not a day went by she didn’t long for Meriel, she found some satisfaction in the touch of her lover.

  Inside the door, she paused and reached behind to take hold of the weapon propped against the wall. Firelight reflected off the gleaming blade. Caught up in the passion of the moment, Rodolphe didn’t notice. It was so heavy in her hands.

  She closed the space between them. Tears blurred her vision as she brought her arms up, holding the sword with both hands. A confused look, one she’d never seen before, crossed his face. As realization dawned, darkness veiled his expression. One hand came up, the silver ring with the flashing ruby, reaching out.

  She didn’t hesitate. With all her power as both a vampire and a woman, she stepped into the swing. When his severed head hit the ground, it rolled across the stone floor, coming to rest on the lush bearskin rug laid out in front of the fireplace. Catherine turned away. The sword slipped from her fingers. In the next room, the child cried.

  Riah’s gaze swept over the once-familiar landscape, and she wondered about the ancestors of the child. Did they still live? Did they ever sense how precarious their existence was? Probably not. She’d saved that child, but like so much of what she did, it had been done undercover. No one ever need know of her hand in anything…even though her desire for anonymity really hadn’t gone so well in recent years.

  Her face on the front page of a newspaper wiped away years of hiding in plain sight. The old legend that a vampire’s image couldn’t be captured was a fallacy perpetuated by vampires themselves. A simple reflection in a mirror had saved the life of more than one vampire when confronted by an angry mob. Unfortunately, she hadn’t always been quick enough to avoid a camera flash.

  Here it was different. Hundreds of years of absence wiped anyone off the radar, and she liked it that way. No pictures in the newspaper in this land. No old photographs with her face peering out. As far as most people knew, she’d never stepped foot in Romania before. She only wished the horrible feeling wafting over her would go away. Two hundred years wasn’t long enough to wash her clean.

  *

  In the moonlight she was a vision. Dressed in a flowing gown, long hair the color of sunlight spilling over her shoulders, she made Nicoletta’s breath catch in her throat. She was a vision straight from her dreams. Never had she set eyes on a woman more beautiful.

  Alexandru reached out a hand to the woman, who took it without hesitation, as if they were friends of many years. Together they stood near Nicoletta, and the golden light spilling on the woman’s face highlighted her shiny hair, beautiful dark eyes, and full lips. It was all Nicoletta could do to breathe. Her heart raced as the woman’s gaze met hers, and an image of their lips touching flashed before her eyes.

  Her voice as she spoke was firm and confident. Nicoletta liked that about her. She was not like any she knew, and what of the jeans she spoke of? Alexandru would have to explain to her what that meant. The dressing gown she wore now, while of a strange style and oddly belted, was beautiful, the velvet thick and rich. Why she would want to wear any other garment when she possessed something so lovely, Nicoletta did not know.

  First, they must hurry back to her chambers. They would have to return to the castle by daybreak and be certain to have the woman dressed in an appropriate gown before the others awoke. The robe she wore was fine for bedchamber attire, but to meet the Prince? Never. She shuddered to think what he might do if he encountered her in that garment.

  The thought of the Prince made her stomach roll, and for a moment she thought she might need to find a bush. She dared not let her body betray her. There was no time for her needs. This was about Alexandru and the woman he had brought through the stones. If the prophecy was true, she was the one, and Nicoletta intended to keep her safe so they would know the truth of it. She prayed he was right about the light-haired beauty. If she was not and he must leave here once more…she wished not to think of it. This beauty must be the one, for she could endure this life alone no longer.

  She all but pushed the reluctant woman into the boat tied to a tree at the water’s edge. For some reason, she stopped on the shore and didn’t seem to want to go any farther. They did not have time for a soft soul who was afraid of the lake. Time was passing much too quickly and they had to get across. Before Nicoletta could speak, Lura picked up her skirts and stepped into the boat. She breathed out a sigh of relief.

  Alexandru took the oars and began to row, slicing through the water with quick, powerful strokes. He had them across the lake as silently as the fish swam beneath the surface. Like her, he felt the urgency of returning to the castle before the light of day shone upon their faces.

  Once on dry land again, Nicoletta wasted no time. She hurried through the night, her feet sure and quiet against the hard earth. She did not turn to see if they followed, for she knew they would. The horses were right where she had left them and she mounted quickly, motioning for Lura to get on behind her.

  “Oh no, no, no,” Lura muttered. “How about a car with nice seats and a heater? Riding a horse isn’t exactly my thing. Especially not in this outfit.” She picked up the skirt of her robe. Alexandru did not say a word as he knelt beside the horse, linked his hands together, and stared at Lura expectantly. He was ignoring her reticence. Nicoletta understood Lura’s confusion and cou
ld do nothing about it. She just wanted them both to hurry. The woman did not seem to understand the danger they were in out in the woods.

  Lura sighed as she put a foot into the hold Alexandru offered. He hoisted her to the horse’s back as if she weighed nothing, and her arms circled Nicoletta’s waist, holding so tight they nearly pushed the breath from her chest. She did not mind, for they could be on their way, and the feel of her body pressed so close was lovely.

  Alexandru had lost none of his prowess in his time away, and he seemed to float through the air and onto the back of the second horse. He was off and racing into the distance without so much as a glance back at them. He knew the way as well as she. The sight of him soaring on horseback through the moonlit night made her heart light. How she had missed him.

  She guided the horse across the ground with sure, solid direction. In the time since Alexandru had disappeared between the stones, she had covered this same path many more times than she could count. Darkness had no effect on her, for she would know the way even if she were blind, and in the thickest recesses of this deep night, it was almost so. Her horse, burdened with its two riders, caught up to Alexandru quickly, and they rode side by side down the rough road.

  Every little bit, a quiet, muttered oath came from behind her. Several times it was Alexandru, and those exclamations made her smile. While his carriage on the horse still seemed natural, her elder brother apparently had gotten soft in his time away. Where once he too would have been able to spot a low-hanging branch and duck, now he suffered the sting and cuts of the treacherous wilderness as it sliced across his face. She hoped he was not wounded too deeply, for they would have much to explain as it were.

  The woman struggled more than Alexandru. She followed Nicoletta’s lead and did not fall victim to any of the branches. Still, sitting astride the horse did not appear to be a thing of comfort for her. Not like it was for Nicoletta. She loved the animals and the freedom she felt when she was high upon their backs. It made her forget her place, her role, and she could ride as free as any man.

 

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