A Vampire's Rise

by Vanessa Fewings

  Salvador sighed.

  I rose and filled their half-empty glasses and handed their refreshed drinks back to them, then poured myself my second drink of the evening.

  Miranda’s soft flush of cleavage disappeared beneath the lace of her corset. When she caught my stare, she blushed. Salvador had imbibed so much wine that he fell comatose on my couch. The opportune moment was not lost on Miranda, who insisted she accompany me when I mentioned taking an evening stroll.

  Halfway across the courtyard, just before reaching the stables, I sensed someone watching us. Annabelle’s silhouette lingered at an upper window. I wanted to signal to her and reassure her, but couldn’t risk Miranda seeing.

  I sent the grooms away and led Miranda down the long line of stables, stopping before one of my most treasured stallions.

  “He’s beautiful.” She patted his dappled neck, running her fingers through his thick, white mane. “I can see why nobility favors them.” She caressed the horse’s muzzle. “Salvador will be overjoyed.”

  I checked his hind leg. “He caught a stone in his shoe earlier.” I lowered his hoof. “No harm done.”

  I caught Miranda staring. She quickly turned and patted the horse again.

  An edgy, creeping sensation worked its way into my stomach. “I hear that you’re a good friend of the senator’s?”

  “More of an acquaintance. I own a summer retreat in Vigo, but I rarely go there since my husband, George, died.”

  I nodded my understanding. “Salvador’s been appointed to the senators. I’m concerned.”

  “Felipe’s ways are a little heavy handed.”

  “You know him?”

  “George,” she glanced at me as if to check my reaction, “didn’t really trust him.”

  “From what I hear, your husband had good judgment.”

  She nodded, but with a distant stare, as though lost in thought. “I have friends in the senate who’ll watch out for him.”

  “I’m in your debt.” I strolled behind her.

  She was breathing faster now, her embroidered laced bodice appeared so confining, designed to restrict her desires, it seemed. I imagined that as each ribbon loosened, so would her passion.

  “I’m going to walk away now,” I whispered. “Forgive me, but you know why.” Barely touching, aware of the tension, I lingered.

  I reached up and caressed the fine, blond hairs on her nape, and she shivered beneath my touch. Although the evening was unfolding as planned, I recognized the illusion of this inner stillness. The rippling sensations of pleasure tried to convince me to take her.

  She gave the deepest sigh.

  I sauntered away.

  Chapter 16

  THE MORAN’S BUTLER ASKED me to wait in the foyer.

  I ignored him and headed up the staircase to look for Salvador myself. Several months had passed since my dinner party and Salvador had returned the favor and extended an invitation to dine at his father’s home. With his family out of town, our privacy was assured. He’d taken up his appointment as Aide-de-camp at the senatorial residence, and I looked forward to questioning him. This visit promised to be interesting on all levels.

  The great house had been restored to its former glory. A recent royal visit inspired a refurbishment. Whitewashed walls loomed resplendent.

  I caught the butler’s disapproving glare from the base of the stairs and threw him a big smile. He quick footed it out of sight.

  Salvador greeted me halfway along the passageway. His expression was difficult to read.

  “You never told me you had a sister.” He frowned playfully.

  “How is she?”

  “Why don’t you ask her yourself?” He pointed to a door.

  I hesitated.

  “She’s been looking forward to seeing you,” he said.

  I clutched Salvador’s arm and guided him along the corridor. “What’s she doing here?”

  “I had to get her out.” He rested his hand over his heart. “She’s not going back.”

  “What happened?”

  “Felipe was beating her.”

  I stared off down the hallway.

  He reached out, closing the space between us and held my arm. “What’s wrong?”

  “You’re both in danger. Felipe will come after you.”

  “Maybe.”

  “You can’t stay here.”

  “I know.”

  I looked past him, trying to ignore my badgering conscience warning me to keep my mouth shut. “There’s something I have to tell you.”

  “Go on.”

  “I lied to you.” I turned to face him. “That stuff about the inquisition.” I gestured my apology.

  “Shit!”

  “I needed someone I trusted to watch over Alicia.”

  “I didn’t remove her because of Felipe’s heresy. I fell in love with her and wanted her safe.”

  I let out an uneasy laugh, but as the idea settled, so did my relief.

  “Felipe is a complete bastard,” he muttered.

  “Will you ever forgive me? She had to be protected by any means possible.”

  “You were very convincing.”

  I cringed.

  He shook his head and gave a wry grin.

  “I’m forever indebted to you,” I said. “I owe you so much.”

  “Just give me your blessing.”

  “Are you sure she wants to see me?”

  “Yes.”

  I sighed. “When Felipe finds out—”

  “We’re going to Italy. She wouldn’t leave without seeing you.” Salvador patted my shoulder. “Come on.”

  * * * *

  Still wary from our last interaction, I gestured my affection for Alicia from the doorway. She’d lost weight, evidence of her mistreatment.

  Alicia caught a sob. “I thought you’d fallen from the ledge.”

  “I’m pretty fast, you know that.” The lump in my throat refused to let up.

  Alicia ran to me and I hugged her.

  “You tried to warn me.” Tears stained her cheeks.

  “All that’s forgotten now.” I breathed in her familiar scent, reminding me so much of our mother’s.

  Salvador was smiling.

  Alicia pulled back. “You’ve grown into such a handsome man.”

  “I’ve missed you.”

  “You look well,” her voice faded. “Felipe—”

  “I’m glad you’re out of there.”

  She grasped my hands and held them to her face.

  A flurry of crows and a rocking carriage.

  I glimpsed something forgotten and tried to grasp it.

  She closed her fingers around mine. “It’s so good to see you.”

  “Salvador’s told me about you both.”

  “We’re so happy.” She smiled his way.

  “And that makes me happy.” I nodded toward Salvador to make sure he knew it.

  Alicia squeezed my hand. “Felipe told me you were dangerous, that’s why I . . .”

  “I understand.”

  “But I almost got you killed.”

  “No, you didn’t.”

  “Grandpa became sick, and you disappeared, and Mama wouldn’t talk about it.” She inclined her head, as though trying to make sense of it all.

  I feared that with my words, tears would fall.

  “You were so young, how could you have known about the bull?” she reasoned.

  “There were men there that night.” I spoke calmly, my tone void of emotion. “I was shoved into the arena with a bull that had been worked hard for hours.”

  She gasped. “That’s why you were taken away, so that you wouldn’t tell anyone?”

  I shrugged. “Perhaps.”

  From Salvador’s expression, he knew that I was protecting Alicia.

  “How is your son?” I asked.

  “He’s in the garden.” She pointed out of the window at the one-year-old child playing on the lawn, watched over by a maid.

  Knowing they were all safe allowed me a
moment to breathe. “What’s his name?”

  “Ricardo.” She watched my reaction.

  I stared at the boy named after our eldest brother and resisted biting my lip.

  “Felipe chose his name.” She whispered it.

  I glanced at Salvador.

  He turned away, unable to look at me.

  * * * *

  After a fine meal at the Moran’s dinner table, we spent the rest of the evening and well into the early hours conversing, never wanting it to end. Alicia stirred long lost memories that I’d once suppressed. Nothing could make up for a lifetime of being apart, but the precious moments we shared during that time proved somewhat cathartic.

  Alicia held me for the longest time as we lingered before the horse drawn carriage. It pained me to have spent such little time with her.

  With all that had passed between Salvador and I, our closeness had never wavered. Even now when he knew the truth of how I’d misled him, Salvador gave me that same look of affection with that illuminating smile of his.

  The carriage lumbered off.

  Alicia, her son, and Salvador headed for the road out of Spain. The sun arose and an array of orange burst over the horizon. With a new day arriving came a new life for them.

  My smile faded.

  My home would be the first place that Felipe searched.

  Chapter 17

  THE SENATORIAL CARRIAGE EMERGED on the horizon.

  And I’d just been thinking what a perfect day it was. A Sunday, and Miguel and I had been training one of the stallions in the paddock.

  I ordered the staff to send Annabelle into the safe room. Harold Ferring’s foresight of constructing a clandestine room beneath our bed and not just in my office had proven to be a godsend. As Felipe approached, I really appreciated the value of Ferring’s experience.

  Miguel guided the horse back to the stables. Without speaking, he’d conveyed, Use caution, with a glance.

  Felipe stomped toward me.

  Two weeks had passed since Alicia and Salvador had left for Italy. I assumed they’d be halfway there by now.

  Casually, I strolled to meet him. “Good morning.”

  “Fuck the niceties,” Felipe snapped. “Where are they?”

  “Alicia?”

  “I want my son.”

  “They’re not here.” I’d long ago mastered the art of deception. Now more than ever, I needed those skills—a calm demeanor, a steady hand, and an innocent stare that held his.

  “If I find out you’re lying . . .” Felipe turned to his men. “Go!”

  They headed for the house.

  A thin line of sweat trickled from his brow. “My lawyers report that you failed to sign our agreement.”

  “I was meant to sign it?”

  “Search every room,” he shouted, his fingers familiarly tapping his thigh.

  I swallowed hard. “Aren’t there laws against trespassing?”

  “I am the law.”

  “I thought your wife bore you a son.”

  He glared at me. “When you see Salvador, tell him he’s dead.”

  “Your wife, she bore you a daughter?”

  His fist struck my jaw with a crack and I staggered back, though made a quick recovery. So much for Miguel’s advice to use sound judgment, though I doubted it would have changed the way I handled this. My hate for Felipe made it nearly impossible to remain civil.

  Felipe stared up at the house, searching the windows. “Tell me where my son is and I’ll spare Alicia.”

  A chill ran through me.

  His eyes burned with loathing. “Your title doesn’t protect you.”

  “And neither does yours.”

  “I gave you your knighthood. I can take it away.”

  “I never did care for it. You’re the one into power.”

  “I’ll see you hang, Velde.”

  “If you ever set foot on my land again, it will be the last time you do so.”

  “Threaten the senator and you threaten the king.”

  “Hiding behind the crown now?”

  “Your luck is running out.”

  My gaze settled on his agitated hand. “Leave my property.”

  “This is Roelle’s house.” His fingers stilled.

  “His house burned to the ground, remember? This one was built on the ashes.”

  “This land is mine.”

  “As I recall, Roelle didn’t actually like you.”

  “Where is she?”

  “Now why would Alicia suddenly turn up on my doorstep and want to be all cozy?” I shrugged.

  “You owe me.”

  “For what?”

  “You’re here because I allow it.”

  “You desecrated my family.”

  He shrank back. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  His men reappeared at the door and one of them signaled to Felipe they’d found nothing.

  “Your political career is hanging by a thread,” I said.

  His jaw muscles tightened. “And how do you reckon that?”

  “I know your dirty little secret.”

  Perspiration settled on his upper lip. “I do what has to be done.”

  “In whose name?”

  “The king’s.”

  “He’d be interested to know that murder comes easily to you.”

  “Peasants must be ruled with a firm hand, or like you they get ideas.”

  “If you mean that they desire their freedom . . .”

  “Don’t debate with me. You set yourself up for failure.”

  “Like that kind of failure.” I pointed to the house.

  “Roelle should never have educated you. I warned him.”

  I eased up on the smile. “He told me he found no value in your opinion.”

  Felipe turned and headed back to his carriage.

  “Would you like to know where Aaron’s remains are?” I called after him.

  Felipe stopped in his tracks and spun round to face me.

  I drew a deep breath. “If that’s what a nine-year-old boy can do, imagine what I’m capable of now.”

  He twitched. “Don’t sleep, Daumia.”

  Chapter 18

  STARING DOWN AT THE gooey mess, I knew I had to go through with it.

  Although I’d considered how to get out of eating the baked biscuit prepared by Eduardo, my five-year-old, his hopeful gaze melted my heart. Annabelle, my wife, balanced Jacob our one-year-old on her hip, as she suppressed a laugh. The cook also held a grin but diverted her gaze.

  Although I disapproved of my oldest doing anything in the kitchen, Annabelle insisted that he loved nothing more than to play with dough and flour. Eduardo’s penchant for making a mess could be best achieved in here, apparently.

  The biscuit tasted how it looked. I feigned my delight and Eduardo’s face lit up. He ran into my arms, insisting I finish it.

  And I did.

  Annabelle gave a nod of approval. Cook offered me another with that familiar smirk. I gestured to Eduardo that I was full.

  I still had to pinch myself with the realization of such fulfillment. As his small hands clutched at my shirt, and he snuggled to my chest, I knew the responsibility of keeping him safe.

  Keeping them all safe.

  I followed Annabelle and the children along the corridor and we made our way out onto the back porch. This once shell of a house had become a home thanks only to the presence of my family. My children had redefined my world and, as only the young can, they helped me to perceive all things through an innocent perspective.

  Annabelle headed further into the garden, carrying Jacob with Eduardo trailing close behind. I leaned against the doorframe. I loved these summer evenings. Our children’s bedtime routine played out night after night as Annabelle, the perfect mother, used up the last of their energy.

  Annabelle strolled over the lush lawn and placed Jacob on the blanket. She grasped Eduardo’s hands and spun him round and round, much to his squealing delight.

  Annabelle wa
s the free spirit that the house of Velde needed. This was normalcy now and I loved it. Eduardo and Jacob were in every way their father’s sons. Eduardo the mischievous one, taking after me, off exploring at every opportunity, and Jacob who took after Annabelle, with his dark complexion and large brown eyes, a calm, sweet soul. Even aged one year, his kind temperament was evident.

  Annabelle turned, picked up her skirts, and ran away from the house with little Eduardo running after her. I strolled over to Jacob and picked him up.

  Sublime innocence.

  Giving my boys a happy childhood did in many ways make up for the loss of mine. Through them, I found myself reliving all that I’d missed out on.

  Jacob stared up at me with that mischievous grin of his and then vomited onto my shirt. Annabelle’s laughter rippled around the garden and Jacob giggled and Eduardo screamed. I too saw the funny side. Annabelle offered to take Jacob, but I gestured I was fine, and planted kisses onto his soft cheek and to the top of his head.

  The stickiness soaked through to my skin. Jacob stared at the gooey mess and giggled again.

  “Have I no power in this house?” I winked.

  In an hour, the boys would be in bed and I’d steal precious time with the woman who’d taught me how to trust and how to love.

  I welcomed the happiness in.

  * * * *

  Later that evening, I read the dispatch from Señor Teofilo’s office.

  The letter from Salvador and Alicia had originated in Italy, routed via the attorney’s office, and even then written in code. After reading the letter, I memorized the words, the tone, then threw it into the fire.

  A small price to pay for the peace of mind that Felipe wouldn’t find them. Ever wary, I ordered my workers to take turns in guarding our residence. I fired three men I found napping during their watch before they took my paranoia seriously.

  Smoke spiraled up and into the chimney. I heard a knock on the study door and Annabelle entered.

  She wrapped her arms around me and we both watched the flames burst up, taking with them more than just words.

  “How would you feel if I gave Eduardo his first riding lesson?” I asked.

  She scrunched up her face. “On those big horses of yours?”

  “We’ll get him a pony.”

  “Perhaps when he’s a year older?”

  I nudged her. “They’ll grow up one day, you know.” I smiled. “Speaking of babies, Alicia’s pregnant.”