by Raven Hart
“Of course,” he answered. “Not only for your sake but for all our sakes. We must contain this plague if he has in fact been infected.” He gently shook Iban’s arm. “I suggest you get some badly needed rest. We will need you before this is over.”
Iban nodded, and Lucius took charge of settling him into a guest coffin. In fifteen minutes, Gerard and I were hurtling down the tree-lined lane of the plantation.
I knew as I paced up the front steps that this house, once my haven, would never look the same to me now after seeing Diana here, in the flesh. The memory of her would forever haunt me and this place, regardless of the outcome.
Hugo blocked the entrance, another strike against my former residence. I wasn’t in the mood to play vampire games.
“This is my home, therefore I don’t need to be invited in,” I said before brushing past him. “Besides, your…mate has called for my assistance.”
“Your wife,” he said, stopping me in my tracks.
At that moment Diana paced into the room, looking angry and worried. Gerard gave Hugo and me a wide berth and went to Diana. “Where is the patient?” he asked. Diana looked at me.
“This is Gerard. He’s a doctor, a scientist,” I explained.
She hesitated only a moment before nodding. “This way,” she said, and led him from the room. I wanted to follow and to see Will with my own eyes. But there was still Hugo to deal with.
Shuttering my thoughts, I helped myself to a cognac from the sideboard. As I did I noticed two used glasses sitting on top of the polished surface. A sniff told me they held the dregs of my best Lafite Rothschild Bordeaux. It had oxidized to the color of dried blood.
“I see you’ve made yourself at home in my home,” I said.
Hugo moved up behind me, and it took a great deal of concentration not to whirl and face him. He chuckled as though he could read the distrust in my mind. Then he held up a clean glass to be filled.
“Yes, we’ve both enjoyed your hospitality. Your wife is especially fond of the bathtub in the master suite. There’s nothing she likes better before a good fuck.” He sighed loudly as I poured the cognac. “I’m afraid we may have ripped some of your sheets and curtains in our eagerness. Feel free to send me a bill.”
I managed to keep my hand steady enough not to clang the bottle against the fragile rim of the Waterford goblet. Hugo smiled and raised the glass in a mocking toast before taking a deep swallow.
I hoped he choked on it. Sipping at my own drink, I wondered at his composure. Diana had been frantic over Will’s injury but Hugo did not betray any worry. Perhaps he was better at hiding his feelings. Then I remembered what Will had said about Hugo hoping that I would kill him. “You don’t seem very put out by Will’s condition,” I said. “Not like, as you say, my wife.”
“You’re right, I don’t have an opinion about him. If there’s a question you wish to ask me, ask it. Otherwise, deal with her.”
Was there a question? I spoke before thinking.
“Do you love them?”
Hugo had just taken another gulp of cognac, and upon hearing my question had to clap his hand over his mouth to keep from spraying the room. After swallowing he went into a coughing-laughing fit that nearly brought him to his knees.
“By Christ! Do I what?” he mimicked as he tried to catch his breath.
“Love them,” I persisted, having no clue why I expected him to answer truthfully.
My determination seemed to chase all the humor from the room. He straightened, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, and glared at me. “I own them. That’s enough.”
“What do you mean—”
“William.” Gerard interrupted. He was standing in the hallway door, a dark expression on his features. “It’s the plague,” he stated.
My throat closed. It was one thing for Will to be killed in an all-out vampire free-for-all, fighting on his own two feet. It was quite another to watch him rot. For a moment I was too shocked to speak, but Hugo reacted instantly. He tossed away his half-filled glass.
“Get Diana away from him!” he ordered, and headed for Gerard.
I grabbed his arm as he passed me and sent my own glass in the same direction as his. “How do you know she’s in danger?” There, I’d finally thought of a pertinent question.
Hugo made to twist away but I shoved him backward and followed the momentum. “Vampires are immune to disease, as I’m sure you’re aware. What do you know about this particular sickness?”
“He wasn’t supposed to get it, only deliver it,” Hugo growled before grappling with my hold. Gerard ran across the room and the two of us held Hugo immobile. “He was sent to California. Not here. He wasn’t supposed to bring it here! Get her out of there!”
A high keening wail filled the room, so shrill that every crystal glass on the sideboard exploded into shooting stars of broken glass.
“No!” Hugo gasped, forcing me to turn and see what he was facing. The screech had come from Diana. Her face was transformed into a killing mask, her mermaidlike hair floating around her head on an invisible tide. She cast about for a weapon and wrapped her fingers around the fireplace poker. Another furious screech burst forth from her and the glass panes in the front door shattered as she launched herself in our direction. I braced myself for her attack, but a fraction of a second before she reached us I realized Diana was staring at Hugo, aiming at Hugo, with hatred so pure it hit all three of us like a lightning strike. Gerard and I were knocked to the floor by the collision. But Hugo remained a few feet off the carpet pressed against the wall, held prisoner by Diana’s will.
“It was you who poisoned my son?”
The poker sank into his chest and penetrated the wall behind him with a crunch. Plaster rained down around the two of us on the floor. Hugo gasped in pain but made no effort to save himself. Floating in front of him, Diana went silent, and if possible, looked even more deadly. She yanked the poker free, tearing his flesh with the hooked end, and plunged it back in, this time into his stomach. He choked and coughed up blood, which soaked the front of his shirt. Held immobile, he managed to move his fingers but little else.
“Damn you!” Hissing like a cobra, Diana tore the poker free again and began to hit Hugo in the face. Once, twice, until blood dripped from his beard. She couldn’t kill him with such a weapon but she could damage him…severely. But, if she somehow did manage to kill him, it would be the end of her, since he was her sire.
We were all spattered with his blood by this time. I couldn’t stand to watch. Even though I had absolutely no love for Hugo, I loved Diana. I suppose I held a secret hope that somewhere inside she remained my lovely girl. If I never had her for my own again, I didn’t want to remember her like this. My feet left the floor as I rose into the air, putting myself between Diana and her prey.
She brought down the poker for the next blow. I waited for the strike to fall, for the pain, but no more than half an inch from my cheekbone, the bloody poker stopped. Diana’s gaze never left Hugo, her terrible intent filled the distance between them. But she’d interrupted the delivery, I hoped for my sake, although she stared past me as one ignores a stranger.
“Stop.” The only word I could utter at that moment. Then: “Please.” I couldn’t articulate my thoughts, my horror at this killing monster whom I loved.
Hugo moaned behind me, then pushed a few words through his broken mouth. “Let her be, you bastard.”
I had asked Hugo if he loved Diana. What kind of love allowed its object to take his very life? Without complaint or explanation. Without fighting back. The answer came to me in his own word: ownership. If she killed him, he would still have her at his side in hell. I turned on him then. No one would stop me from killing him if I chose, least of all Diana. “What of a cure? If you made it, you must have a way to stop it.”
He wagged his bloody head back and forth, his spit bubbling red as he spoke. “Reedrek. He had it made.”
“By whom and for what purpose?”
H
ugo shook his head again, then sputtered, baring bloody broken teeth. “To bind you, or kill you all.”
The hate-charged air shifted beneath my feet and I crashed to the floor. Even as I marveled at Diana’s power, she used that power to fling Hugo away from her to the farthest corner of the room, then tossed the bent and dripping poker after him.
She took a moment to blot Hugo’s blood from her face and regain her composure. A second later she was facing me. “Can you save our son?”
I looked at Gerard. He pushed to his feet with one dubious glance in Hugo’s direction before shrugging. “I don’t know. We were working on a vaccine, but the process will take time.” Then his attention settled on me. “Is Jack involved in this?”
I knew what he meant. Had Jack been contaminated along with Will when Sullivan was killed? Even as furious as I was with Jack, the thought sent a jagged slice of fear through me. Not Jack.
Not Jack, what? came the answer from Jack himself.
Sullivan was infected. Will is rotting.
Crap.
Jack
Sleep was out of the question.
I made my way through the tunnels to William’s. I had to know what was going on. Was Gerard making any progress figuring out how to cure the virus? Was Connie going to die because I’d introduced her to a friend of a friend? I wouldn’t let my mind go there. Just because you’re a vampire doesn’t mean you can’t go insane.
When I entered William’s vault I saw a form covered by a sheet and stretched out on a recycled wooden door. That would be Sullivan. I started to cross myself before I remembered that wasn’t such a hot idea. Or maybe too hot. I was raised Catholic; old habits—even really old habits—are hard to break. I climbed the stairs and went through the kitchen. Deylaud was cooking and Reyha was fussing over two trays. Strange. It was almost daylight. They should be preparing to make the change into their four-footed forms. I’d always wondered how they looked when they did it. Was it like in the werewolf movies?
“What’s going on?” I asked.
“Jack, I’m glad you’re here,” Deylaud said.
His twin walked toward me and put her head against my chest, linking her arms around my waist. “Me too. I haven’t seen you in so long,” Reyha said.
“Get back to work, sister, we don’t have much time,” Deylaud said sharply. It sounded almost like a bark. That was freaky.
“Oh, yes.” She hurried to the refrigerator and started moving things around, looking for something.
“We’re making breakfast for Melaphia and Renee. They’re both asleep in the guest room.”
I got a bad feeling. “Why aren’t they in their own beds?”
Deylaud sprinkled cheese into an omelette pan and looked over at me. “Oh, that’s right. I guess you don’t know.”
“Know what?”
“Melaphia let Iban feed from her,” Reyha blurted, pouring juice into glasses. “How nasty is that?”
I swallowed against a wave of nausea. Poor Mel. That must have been what the tense conversation between her and William at the garage had been about. As much as I liked Iban, I hated the thought of my Mel having to let the thing he’d become feed from her flesh. And I hated the thought of William having to ask her to do it. “Did it work?”
“Yes. That’s the good part. He’s much better. He was even well enough to leave here with Wi—with my master and Gerard a little while ago.” Deylaud divided the huge omelette, stuffed with diced ham and cheese, onto two plates, each of which already held toast and buttered cheese grits. The smell made me wish I could eat human food again.
“Where’d they go?” I knew from the mind message William had sent that they’d gone to see Will, but I didn’t know where.
“The plantation, I think,” Deylaud said, and licked his fingers. That’s when I noticed the bruises on his neck.
“What happened to you?”
Reyha stifled a little inhuman whine but didn’t say anything.
Deylaud blinked back rising tears and shook his head. “It will heal. Would you take this tray to Melaphia and Renee? Mel needs to build up her strength. She was pretty weak when William brought her in.”
“Sure.” Whatever had gone down, the manimal wasn’t in the mood to share. Or maybe, he just didn’t have the time.
“Hurry,” he managed. I could feel more than see the first rays of the sun coming in through the tiny slits in the closed blinds of the east-facing windows. “Here comes the sun.”
Deylaud’s head gave a jerk forward as he fumbled for the buttons of his shirt. On the other side of the table, Reyha shimmied out of her simple shift. She wore no underwear, the peaks of her small breasts stiffening in the cool air. “I like this dress,” she managed to say before her body contorted and she bent forward, putting her palms on the floor.
Deylaud had managed to get out of his clothes by that time, too, and the show began. The bones popping was the worst part. Well, that and the humanoid heads reforming themselves into the slender snouts of sighthounds. Talk about a hair-raising sight, if you’ll pardon the expression. Fingers and toes became paws with claws. Tails sprouted from their backsides, necks elongated, shoulders and hips narrowed with awful crunching sounds. The whole thing defied the laws of physics and nature. But hell, what else was new? Welcome to the jungle.
The transformation was pretty gruesome. I didn’t want to look but I couldn’t turn away. And to think they went through this every twelve hours in their service to William. I made a mental note to buy some dog treats. Expensive ones.
When it was done, Reyha stretched, trotted over to me with a doggie smile on her face and nudged my hand with her silky head. I scratched her between the ears and murmured, “Good girl.” I gave her a piece of ham from the cutting board and she gobbled it up with an enthusiastic tail wag. She then trotted back over to her abandoned dress, picked it up in her mouth by the hem, and dragged it away toward her room.
Deylaud appeared on my other side. He refused the ham but allowed me to rub his sore neck. I guess a little comfort was better than nothing. After I’d obliged him, he went to the door that separated the kitchen from the hallway to the stairs and looked back at me.
“I’m coming,” I said. The tray was crowded with the plates of food, two glasses of orange juice, one of milk, and a mug of black coffee. I followed Deylaud into the hallway. Light streamed in through the windows on either side of the front door, but Deylaud trotted over and worried the curtain tiebacks with his teeth until they were undone and the draperies fell across the windows, blocking the sun. He sat solemnly and watched me start up the stairs with the tray.
When I got to the landing Eleanor came out of the master bedroom, looking almost as wild as the night she was made. She should’ve been downstairs all snug in her coffin like a good vampire. Instead she looked a couple cans short of a six-pack.
“What do you know about her?”
Oh, shit.
“Who?”
“Don’t play games with me. You know damn well who.”
I set the tray down on the antique hall table. What could I tell her? What should I tell her? Sorry, babe, the love of your life just had his wife come back to him after five hundred years. I hate it for ya, but haven’t you heard? Death’s a bitch.
“What did William tell you?” I asked cautiously.
“He’s acting crazy. He came in earlier with Melaphia and wouldn’t speak. Then he nearly killed Deylaud. When I begged him to tell me what was wrong, he said his wife still exists and she’s here in Savannah.
“Where does that leave me, Jack? What am I supposed to do? I gave up my soul for him!” Her eyes searched mine for an answer, her anguish so real you could feel it radiate off her skin.
“I don’t know what to tell you, El. Honest, I don’t.”
She bit her lower lip to keep it from trembling. I sensed it was as much from rage as from sorrow. “Is she beautiful?”
“Yes. But not as beautiful as you.”
She tried to smile but i
t fizzled. “If he’s not back here at sunset, I’m going to find him.”
“I’ll go with you. For now, why don’t you go down to the vault and get some sleep. I’ll join you in a few minutes. There’s nothing I can do until sunset either.”
Eleanor started down the stairs. At the bottom, Deylaud waited, wagging his tail.
“I do know one thing,” I thought to add. Eleanor turned and looked back at me. “She’s not the same woman he knew,” I said. “Not the same woman he loved.” I don’t exactly know how I could be so sure, but I was.
She lifted her chin and smiled, then continued down the stairs.
I turned to get the tray and almost ran into Renee. “Hello, sugar. What are you doing out of bed?”
“I heard you and Miss Eleanor talking,” she said. “And I smelled breakfast.”
“How’s your mom? Is she ready to eat, too?”
She shrugged her small shoulders. “No. She only woke up long enough to say she didn’t feel like eating and wanted to go back to sleep.”
“Okay, then. Let’s take this in the library and let your mom rest.”
Renee followed me into the library at the end of the hall. She had her own small collection of books on a child-high bookshelf William had set up for her. A cherrywood library table was strewn with some of the aged books and maps William was always poring over looking for God knew what. There was also a child’s table and chairs—antique, of course—in the corner of the room. I set the tray on the low table and turned on a floor lamp since the heavy drapes blocked any daylight. I sat down in the child-size chair opposite Renee, my knees drawn up to my chest. When she was younger, she’d had tea parties here. I have to admit I attended more than one of those.
She nibbled at the food and drank most of the orange juice but didn’t seem very enthusiastic about the fare.
“You not hungry?” I nudged the glass of milk a little closer to her.
