Wicked Angels

Wicked Angels Sequel to Dark

Rapt

ur

e

By

ichele Hauf

M

right by Michele Hauf 2007

Copy

Michele Hauf 2 Prologue

Slowly, gracefully, the rhythm starts as a gentle lull as sleep struggles to capture the semireverie state of dreams. A vision of enchantment dances into his peripheral view. Skirts of brilliant crimson sweep across the stone floor in a wide brushing arc as she twirls. The music of his guitar urges her on. It is the farruca flamenco, a song danced and played from the heart of the gypsies. One with the music, her arms stretch above her head. Her hands twist and rotate sensually upon her wrists. Crimson lips part in silent exaltation. The guitarist closes his eyes, his head nodding to the rhythm of the song. He can envision her dark, sweet-smelling hair pulled away from her face, save a long black curl that spirals across her cheek, underlining the brilliant emerald sparkles in her eyes. But her eyes are closed too, as she divines the music into her soul and becomes one with the guitarist as they work their magic. The pace increases and the slippery swishes of the dancer’s ruffled flamenco skirt blur into a frenzy. The guitarist, the dreamer, does not need to look up again. He knows another has come. She is twirling in the arms of a stranger now, his dark-haired angel tangled in Satan’s net. She reaches out for the safety of his arms, but the guitarist does not see. Spun about, her crimson skirts skim the air like blood-seeking bats on wing. The stranger presses close, pulling the rhythm from her body, until he too matches the pulsing tempo of the farruca. A scream gurgles up her throat. The frenzied notes cease. She does not fight him; he envelops her in his dark clutches easily. Bent backward across the intruder’s arm, her arm

splays out to her side where a long trail of crimson flows down the inside of her white flesh. The stranger laughs and crushes her to his skeletal body. His laughter grows louder as the guitar falls from the guitarist’s hands and shatters into splintering pieces across the stone floor. Sprays of blood splatter about the room, staining the floor stones in vicious disregard as he sinks his fangs deep into the pale flesh on her throat. “Nooo!” Sebastian’s forehead hit against the soft padding inside his coffin, jarring him from his manic thoughts. Punching upward, the cover flew open. In a rage, he sat up, thrusting his legs over the side of the coffin. Alone in the darkened depths of the castle dungeon, his rampant breathing is his only companion. His heart clenched and expanded as he ran his fingers through his hair, riddled with beads of sweat. He swiped a hand across the blood that spattered his cheek.

is no blood. There never is. It was only the dream. Again. But...there

Wicked Angels - Sequel to Dark Rapture 3

Part One

nowledge.

And forever and forever, and k

No never. Michele Hauf 4 Chapter One Diary entry ‘slightly illegible for a water stain‘, possibly August 1632. I am Alexandre Adrian Lyons II, progeny of Vincent Amandus Lyons and unknown maternal blood. I begin this diary with great enthusiasm. For centuries the history of my bloodline has been passed down through the spoken word. Compelling and dramatic history of a story I fear may someday become lost. Forever cached in the mind of one never given the chance to orally relay his tale. Not that I fear a sudden death or extinction of our bloodline. It just won’t happen. I choose to physically record history for future generations so that the true story will remain intact. With written proof no man can deny the existence of our race. And it is our existence, the very fact we walk this earth amongst the mortals, that is our legacy.

For those who shall come upon my words, please allow me the indulgence of my narrative. As these bits and snippets of my ancestors were passed on to me by the flames of midnight bonfires and the quiet solitude of cool summer nights beneath the full moon, my mind would weave the spoken words into pictures, filling in the missing dialogues and emotions that were often glossed over. I fancy myself a storyteller. And so, I pray my scribbles illuminate vivid images for one and all. But will my embellishments not change the entire story. Make great dramatics for the purpose of my own glory as the writer I propose to be. Perhaps. Alexandre Lyons II Cantabria Mountains, Spain - 13th Century The coffin maker rechecked his measurements, then went back to finishing the pine box. This was the eighth he’d made this year. He had been employed only to make the coffins for the Prince’s wives. As it was, he was kept quite busy. “And where are ye off to so early in the morn, good man.” Rogero reined his horse to a slow cantor besides Paquita, the castle chatelaine. Her face glowed like an apple to match the bushel in her basket, and her pies were always equally as welcome. He tipped his hat to her. “Milord’s lady wife took her death last evening. That means I’ve work to do. Hate to rise before the blessed sun but if I’m to return before nightfall means I’ve got to be on my way. I’ve myself a shiny silver coin this morn from ole’ Willie in the stables.” Paqu

ita propped her basket on an amply

endowed hip and cast Rogero a curious nod. “What for, you been picking up some extra work.” Wicked Angels - Sequel to Dark Rapture 5 “Nay. I and a handful of others always make wagers on how long the new mistress will last. I could tell right away, the poor lass was so thin and dreadfully quiet, she didn’t have more than three weeks on her head.” “God rest her tainted soul.” Paquita crossed herself and Rogero nodded agreement. “I’m off. I have a half day’s journey ahead of me. Good day to ye, senorita Paquita.” ***** “Bring me an angel,” Rogero muttered his master’s words. “Hair as brilliant as the sunlight and eyes as blue as the skies. The same thing every time. I must have an angel!” he called out dramatically to his horse. “Hair like sun, eyes of sky. Bah! I’ll give him a dash of sunlight one of these days, and he’ll never live to order me around again.” Rogero’s shoulders slumped as he anticipated finding what he searched for. Ah well, it was his job. He shouldn’t complain; the coin filled his purse nicely. And though he knew his task to be wrong—sinfully wrong—he carried out his orders with no questions asked. As did everyone at the castle. For if they did not provide the master with his required virgins then he would look elsewhere for his sustenance. Elsewhere being the people of the castle.

“Esmarelda!” The sound of father’s voice drove Esmarelda straight up amidst the hay she had scattered for the last remaining cow. She shielded her eyes from the bright sun to see him marching toward her. Just beyond him sat the shack they called home where her younger sister, Margarita, ground wheat for bread. Hobbled beside the stone shack stood a horse and rider. “Papa, who is here.” “Esmarelda, I’ve good news.” His face beamed as he pulled her close. Esmarelda pushed away from her father and scanned his eyes. He never showed affection toward her, other than to tell her she’d look good with her hair pinned to her head. ‘More boyish’, he’d say with a gaze down her body that told her he was wondering if he could pass her off as a male. Would be much easier to find work in the village if she were not a woman. “Papa, what is it.” He took her by the shoulders, his jaw growing firm. “Esmarelda, remember I’ve always taught you to be brave and never judge another man until you’ve lived a year in his troubles. I know I’ve not been the best father a daughter could have over the years…hell, you know I’d much preferred to have a son…” “Si. You needn’t apologize, Papa. You have taught Margarita and I good values and I have tried desperately to help around the farm.” She glanced aside to the scattered hay. She wasn’t much as a farm-hand. Lately her thoughts had been occupied with dreams of her

t tell me what it

future. “Bu is. Who is here.” “A man from the Castle Trastamara has come. Esmarelda, I’ve made a decision. He’s offered me fifty crowns for your hand in marriage.”

Michele Hauf 6 “Marriage! Papa, how could— But I haven’t even met him.” Esmarelda glanced around her father’s head. All she could make out was a silhouette of a man standing next to the horse. A rather plump silhouette. “Esmarelda, now don’t be vigoroso with me. I am your father. I’m doing this for your own good. You know we won’t be on this land much longer without the money. And it is high time you married.” “Si,” she acquiesced. With the money, her father and Margarita would eat well for some time. “But—” He pressed a wrinkled finger to her lips. “But you’ll listen to your father now. You’ll hold your head high and do this for me. Courage, Esmarelda. I do love you, you know that.” “Si.” She walked past him out into the sunlight. It shimmered across her hair, setting each strand ablaze. A sparkle to match her dreams. Dreams of someday marrying a handsome and brave man whom she could care for and love. “If he is paying you, then I should be thankful for that.” She squinted but was unable to make out the man’s features. Slumped shoulders, not young, from what she could determine. Her heart sank to know her dreams of a handsome husband would never come true. Pray he treated her kindly. “How old is he.” “Oh, he is not the one.” Her father laid a hand on her shoulder. “He is just a messenger. You are to wed a prince.” Los Angeles - Present day Cooling summer air filled and burst with a thunderous clatter. Narrow velvet leaves shivered on the olive trees as unnatural vibrations taunted them. Small animals

and birds fled the scene as the hysteric crash of rock n’ roll took command of the night. Rising amidst the rumbling din, a man, his arms spread wide in worship to the moon, his thin shirt rippling in the breeze and pressing tight to his flesh in waves of purple silk, raised his head to the sky, and closed his eyes. Long torrents of his golden hair blew across his face. Spreading his legs to secure position upon the crumbling stone ledge between the castle battlements, his body was suddenly illuminated by a fierce beam of moonlight, a spotlight crowning his head. Below him, drums thumped steady and loud, an army of leathered, metalstudded soldiers marching steadily onward. A bass guitar matched the drums in an evil chord of resonant harmony, while a spiral of vicious electric screams spun into the night as the lead guitarist’s fingers raced into action. The golden man, a brat prince among his peers, looked down from the heavens and cast an evil sneer into the camera. “Cut!” Vince Lyons jumped from the castle wall, pushed past the perturbed cameraman, and cast a nod toward Sebastian DelaCourte, who checked his watch and signaled back. Vince grabbed a thick towel, offered by the makeup girl, and swiped it across his face, removing most of the heavy pancake that kept the spotlig

ht glare from his

pale complexion. “Hey, what’s going on.” Gary Rose flipped his electric guitar over his back and stepped over a tangle of electrical cords that ran beneath his feet. He grabbed Vince by the

arm. Wicked Angels - Sequel to Dark Rapture 7 The singer shrugged. “Sorry man, I gotta run.” Vince’s body jittered as he swayed from foot to foot, unable as of late to keep still, and finding even to his own surprise his energy level was near uncontrollable at times. “I told you earlier I’m outta here at midnight.” “Yeah, I forgot.” Gary looked over Vince’s shoulder, seeing Sebastian stood next to his sister, Scarlet, off beyond the tangle of electrical wires and camera equipment. He gestured for him to join them. Sebastian nodded toward the tower door as he joined the men. “You go, Vince.” His voice was cool and buttered with the barest of a French accent. “There are some other shots we can do right now. Like Gary’s solo. Everything’s cool.” “I’m already gone.” Vince tossed the sweat-drenched towel over Gary’s shoulder. “Catch ya later, guys!” He waved to the filming crew and the other two band members. Scott, the drummer, did a ba-dum-da on the drums and Gary went back to his position beneath the red lights. Vince breezed past Scarlet, giving her cheek a quick stroke with the back of his hand as he did. A glance back toward the crew and he noticed the tension square Sebastian’s jaw as he witnessed him touching his girlfriend. Scarlet shrugged away Vince’s hand. “Leaving so soon.” “Got things to do. Hey, you read those diaries yet.” “Started last night. They begin in the thirteenth century. Fascinating stuff.” “Yeah, let me know if you discover anything about my father. See ya later.” Vince swung the tower door wide and stepped into the castle. “I will.” Scarlet waved to Vince’s retreating back.

But she had no intention of skipping ahead in the ancient leather-bound diaries Vince had loaned her. Found in the family crypt in the basement of Vince’s house, and written in flowing French script, Vince had asked Scarlet to browse through them, knowing she was familiar with the language. He had hopes of finding clues to his father’s identity. A father he had never known, though he was aware the vampire nature had been passed on to him through his father’s blood. And while Scarlet was eager to help Vince, she also entertained her own secret hopes. Maybe somewhere in the history of Vince’s family the answers she sought would be revealed. Elusive answers, whose quest had haunted her for months. There had to be more to the vampire life she now led. Even after being transformed by Sebastian a year ago, Scarlet just felt so…mortal. “There is more,” she whispered. “And I will find out.” Stepping out of the tightly wound stairway that circled the north tower, Scarlet flicked the lighter she always carried in her jacket pocket and ignited a candle in one of the hallway sconces. The cherub holding the candle smiled gratefully as the warm flame caressed its face. Only the study, the kitchen and bathroom, and the studio Sebastian used to practice in had been electrically wired. Their home had been built at the turn of the century by a wealthy historian. An exact replica of a fourteenth century castle, though with modern plumbing.

astian was reluct

Seb ant to electrically wire the rest of the castle, finding candlelight, as he stated so frequently, much more romantic. Always the romantic, Scarlet thought. I give you the moon and the stars. My blood runs through your veins and my life

is yours... Michele Hauf 8 Words spoken a year ago by Sebastian as he promised to love her forever in their vampire eternity. And Scarlet loved him with every inch of her being. They were literally soul mates. But lately the desire to discover more had begun to make Scarlet question Sebastian’s lifestyle. He had seemed so normal when she first met him. A vampire. Suppose so. But not at all like the fictional vampires she had read about. He could endure the sun’s heat, look at crosses, even enter churches. As could she. Besides drinking blood they both led such normal, mundane lives. Where were the fantastic vampire powers. Could she fly. She’d yet to see Sebastian take to wing, or feel herself suddenly weightless come a gust of strong wind. What about changing into bats and all that Dracula stuff. Wasn’t any of it true. The fact she walked this earth as an immortal creature most believed only myth had to mean something. Scarlet was determined to find out what that something was. And until she did, she would not feel completely whole. “Scarlet.” Sebastian’s leather boots clicked across the stone floor. Her lover’s dark eyes searched hers as he drew her into his arms. She pressed tight against his body, divining his growing desires in the form of an uncontrollable moan from Sebastian. “Finished already.” “Just taking a break. Thought I’d take advantage of Gary’s broken guitar string and come find you.” He stepped backward, guiding them both through their opened bedroom

door. The harsh lights they used for filming Wild Child’s video seeped over the battlements and crept into the room by way of the wide bay window set into the alcove. They cast a hazy glow across the stone floor and shimmered across the mica-flecked stone walls. “Can’t keep your hands off me, eh DelaCourte.” Scarlet turned in Sebastian’s embrace and let her chin drop to her chest as the comforting touch of his hands smoothed over her shoulders. “Any objections.” “No, it has been more than an hour since you last touched me. I was beginning to feel neglected.” She pressed her back against his body, and from behind he floated his fingers down her flowered silk dress and to her waist, producing a tingling thrill inside her blood. Streams of midnight hair fell away from her neck as she tilted her head to the side. His hands encircled her waist, slipping back and away every so often, as if he was losing hold, or maybe, just teasing. Exhaling deeply, Scarlet closed her eyes as he cupped her breasts. His touch, so delicate, almost invisible, always rendered her helpless. No man had ever such power over her senses. She dropped her hands to her sides, allowing Sebastian free reign over her shivering flesh. The fine feathery softness of his hair whispered across her cheek as his lips touched the exposed vein on her neck, teasing and granting promises of divine passion. They hovered,

n pressed, then disappeared, and touched. and the

A prick of sharpness touched her neck. Scarlet flashed her eyes open to meet her

lover’s gaze. The vanity mirror reflected her image, her dress unbuttoned to reveal the firm mounds of her breasts, her hair flipped to the side and Sebastian’s devilish-little-boy smile. Wicked Angels - Sequel to Dark Rapture 9 “You think so.” she teased. “Just a taste.” He drew his fangs across her skin. Her body flamed with a thousand tiny sparks. Deny Sebastian a thing. Never. Scarlet pressed her palms over his hands, squeezing his fingers around her breasts. “If you insist—” “Baz!” The red slash of the searchlight crossed back and forth before the window. Gary stood above on the roof, Scarlet knew. “He’s on to me,” Sebastian said with a heavy sigh. “We’re going to have to find a girlfriend for your brother. The man has too much time on his hands.” “Sebastian!” Scarlet reluctantly left Sebastian’s embrace and leaned out the open window. “He’s coming! Keep your undies on!” “Keep your undies on.” Sebastian served her a questioning lift of his b

row.

“Yep.” She sashayed toward him, and planted a kiss on his thick lower lip. “But that doesn’t mean I’ll be keeping mine on for very long.” “Cheríe, you vixen. You think I’ll be able to work now with that image in my mind.” She pushed him toward the door, loving every minute she could tease her lover. “I’ll be waiting.”

Michele Hauf 10 Chapter Two Cantabria Mountains, Spain - 13th Century “She’s arrived! By the saints, hurry, we must ready her for the master.” Paquita tucked her apron ties into the back of her skirt and brushed her floured hands across the coarse wool. “Put the gooseberry pies into the hearth and run below and bring up the elderberry wine. I must have a look over the child before we feed her to the beast.” Esmarelda’s eyes followed the outside walls of the massive castle up to the battlements, fortified with spiked timbers and wedges of broken glass. She’d seen one other castle in her lifetime, in Palencia on her way to the farm with Papa. Castle Trastamara put the other to shame. Its fortress walls stretched far down the treacherous mountainside they had traveled and was surrounded by a wide moat on the south side; the north side, set on a cliff, plunged straight to hell, as Rogero had so eloquently put it. “Rogero!” A friendly shout tunneled out one of the murder holes set into the castle portico. Slowly the crossed iron gate rose and Esmarelda was delivered into the inner walls. She pulled at the dress she wore. It was of balding crimson velvet with slashed sleeves to reveal beneath her threadbare silver gown. Once her mother’s wedding dress, she had preserved it in hopes Esmarelda would some day wear it. “I wish you were here, Mama.” A plump red face appeared to help Esmarelda down from Rogero’s horse. “Step down, missy, and let me have a look over ye. Don’t fright, dear. I’m quite harmless.”

The woman brushed her swollen hands over her flour dusted apron and tossed a wink to Rogero. Taking a deep breath and drawing on the inner strength that had been planted by her father, Esmarelda stepped onto the grounds. “You’ll be takin’ the girl inside.” A scrawny young man in wilted olive hose appeared as Esmarelda was about to speak. “The master wishes to see her.” Esmarelda looked to the old woman who rolled her eyes and huffed. She threaded an arm through hers and led her inside. “Very well. We’ll be in a hurry this fine evening, are we. Don’t worry, child, he may scare ye a bit, but ‘tis just his way. You look to be a strong young lass.” She squeezed Esmarelda’s upper arm gently which was taut with a layer of muscle from farm work. “I lay bets Rogero won’t be matching his wager this time.” Not having the slightest clue as to what the woman spoke about, Esmarelda was quickly led through the entry hall and down a spiraling stair. She barely had time to find her breath when the woman stopped beneath a torch and gestured to the door beyond. “My name is Paquita,” she said and squeezed Esmarelda’s hand. “I am the castle chatelaine. I do the cooking and the cleaning and keep the entire castle in order

.

If you need something you come to me. Except…” She swallowed and the entire bag of flesh beneath her chin jiggled. “…if ye have concerns regarding the master. I can be of no help to ye there.” The thick iron-banded door swung open and Paquita led Esmarelda down another set of stairs into a circular chamber lighted with six hissing torches. There were a

handful of men, Wicked Angels - Sequel to Dark Rapture 11 possibly servants, one with a ledger and quill, others holding weapons and armor and three women, all of them older, each bearing water jugs and wearing dull colors. As her eyes adjusted to the light, Esmarelda looked around, smiling to each person she saw. They immediately looked to the floor and she in turn glanced away. She thought it very strange the things Paquita had said about her future husband. And with the general way things had gone so far she wondered what, exactly, her father had gotten her into. She wondered no longer as she heard a husky baritone voice behind her. She spun around to see a thin, elegant young man seated on a throne set high upon four steps. “Step forward,” he said in a voice serrated and syrupy at the same time. He remained quiet as his deep black eyes looked her over. Too intrigued to feel on display, Esmarelda took two steps forward. He sat with one leg propped over the arm of his carved mahogany throne, chin in hand, his elbow resting on the other chair arm. Dressed entirely in black, he appeared quite gaunt. He wore a short black doublet striped in gray leather, his leather chausses were studded with silver rivets. A shower of smooth raven hair spilled across his shoulders and down to his elbows, matching perfectly the darkness in his eyes. A half-grin fixed on his pale face and a glint of scarlet flashed as the ring on his finger caught the torchlight. At first glance one would never think to call him attractive, Esmarelda mused. But with a second and perhaps even third glance she began to feel the intrigue, the curiosity to learn

more about this elegant and enticing stranger. “Turn around,” he said, motioning with his fingers. With all eyes in the room on her, Esmarelda reluctantly turned. The women’s heads remained bowed so she could not see their eyes. The men, on the other hand, boldly looked her over as she turned. Faltering only once, she came back face to face with the prince. It was unnerving, this inspection of sorts, but she held her head high, hoping to impress upon the prince and all watching she was not afraid. Though, she was, just a bit. Her father had once told her all men are the same. The kings and queens, the dukes and knights, they were all born into the world the same as the common man. Each came naked and not knowing more than to suckle from their mother and to piss when they pleased. Esmarelda smiled to imagine the stout lackey who stood directly behind the prince as a naked babe in his mother’s arms. “Quite a lovely smile.” The prince’s words brought her back to reality. She felt an embarrassing blush heat her cheeks. “But what of the rest of you.” The prince clapped his hands together and gestured to the lackey standing to Esmarelda’s right. He approached and before she knew what was happening, Esmarelda felt the cool rush of air as the man ripped the bodice of her dress away, revealing her naked breasts to the entire room. Quickly she clutched her arms to her chest. But then she noticed the prince’s look. He was pl

eased.

Embarrassed as she was, Esmarelda forced herself to put her arms down. He was

testing her. And she would not fail. She stood proud before the prince, feeling her nipples pucker to rigid alertness under the discomforting scrutiny. The prince leaned forward in his chair, his hand going to his chin as his eyebrow rose in an elegant arch. “Excellent. Paquita, prepare her. We shall wed at the stroke of midnight.” Michele Hauf 12 Paquita came up behind Esmarelda and slipped an arm around her, pulling her torn bodice over her breasts. As they made way back up the stairs, Esmarelda heard the chatelaine mutter, “Always at midnight.” ***** Los Angeles - Present day A longing resided deep within her. An emptiness that needed fulfillment. She was determined to discover the truth about herself. How that would happen though, she wasn’t sure. “Maybe in here,” Scarlet said a she set the diary aside. “I hope.” Though she and Sebastian were not in-born vampires like Vince—a vampire sired by a vampire and born of a mortal woman—she prayed Vince’s family history would provide clues to her own vampirism. As it was, she knew nothing of her kind other than what Sebastian had taught her. Which was very little. Releasing a heavy sigh, Scarlet strode down the hallway and into her bedroom and was immediately overtaken by the music that filled the air. Sebastian sat on the bed practicing one of the many flamenco selections he had chosen for his new album. She knelt on the floor

before him, resting her cheek on his suede-covered knee. He didn’t stop playing, only smiled, and closed his eyes in satisfaction as his hands danced swiftly over the strings and his head nodded to the beat. Scarlet closed her eyes, allowing herself to be transported by his magic. A magic that spun her into a dream world of Spanish senoritas dressed in ruffled dresses with long trains and elegant senores, their dark eyes shaded beneath their black Cordoban hats, serenading their ladies from below an opened window. Sebastian’s music never failed to seduce. It seeped through Scarlet’s flesh and traveled her veins on a one-way collision course to her heart. He was an exquisite lover, gentle and fierce, giving and masterful. But the physical love he gave her could never match the feeling of unbounded freedom she experienced when caught in the sensuous rhythm of his music. He began a rapid rasgueado with successive flicks of his fingers across the strings and Scarlet stood, her mind tangled in a dream. She took his long raven hair into her fingers. It slipped over her skin like an elusive black seal skimming just beneath the surface of a wishing pool. She ran her lips across the silken strands, taking in the sweet, cinnamon spice that cloaked his body like a gentle mist. Sebastian tilted his head back to receive her kiss, all the while, never missing a single stroke. His lips opened to Scarlet’s demands. Music and passion intertwined and Scarlet was unable to fight the commands Sebastian’s guitar demanded of h

er body.

She danced around in front of him and knelt on the bed, cupping his face in her hands

and kissed him deeply, bringing his music to a halt. “Chèrie,” he spoke into her mouth as she teased her tongue across his thick lower lip. “I will never get this song perfected if you do that.” “Mmm, that’s all right. You’ve plenty time to work on it later.” She ground her hips forward, but the guitar prevented her from feeling her lover’s excitement. “What do you call Wicked Angels - Sequel to Dark Rapture 13 that one. It’s so sensuous. It makes me want to kiss you, and to think of things better said only in whispers.” She demonstrated by blowing gently in his ear. “Dançar com a Imortalidade.” Scarlet sat on her knees and pulled a finger across the strings of Sebastian’s guitar, which he affectionately called, Lucia. Lucia meaning Bringer of Light, as he had once explained to her. “Even sounds sensuous. Is that Spanish.” “Portuguese, my love. It means; To Dance With Immortality.” “Portuguese.” She wrinkled her nose. “Where did you pick that up.” He shrugged. “I spent some time in Portugal many years ago. It’s not so strange. I am half Portuguese, you know that.” “Well, yes, but—” Also French and Italian, from his mother’s side, she remembered. His father, whom he had never known, had been a Portuguese musician. “I also speak Spanish and a little bit of Rumanian, but that is a very complicated language to understand. I never use it.” Scarlet leant back on her hands, looking him over as he spoke so casually of his many talents. There was still so much she did not know about this beautiful vampire she called lover. He had lived for over two centuries before meeting her. Besides knowing he had been born and raised as a nobleman in Paris—circa the eighteenth century, by his

mother and a reluctant step-father—and was currently a much celebrated musician on the rock n’ roll circuit, she knew little else of his life. What had he done for those two centuries after being transformed into a vampire. Where had he gone. Had he loved others. The questions clung to the back of her throat, but she had yet to find a delicate way to broach the subject for Sebastian valued his privacy. He leaned forward and kissed the warmth where the sun shimmered on her dark curls. His nose nuzzled into the slope of her neck as he playfully bit through her hair and nibbled. “Scarlet Rose, my escurido anjo, my dark angel.” He drew his tongue up her neck, sending shivers down her spine. His hand found the curve of her breast and he began to work his skillful magic. “Ahem.” Anthony’s voice jarred them both from their explorations. “The dress has arrived.” Scarlet peeked over Sebastian’s shoulder. Anthony’s short crop of blonde hair was the only thing visible above the load in his arms. “Oh, that’s gorgeous!” Leaving Sebastian with his mouth hanging open, Scarlet rushed to free their house servant from the jumble of red and black ruffles that splashed before his face and tumbled down to his knees. “Did they deliver the shoes too.” Sebastian asked.

carlet lifted the

“Yes.” S dress from Anthony’s outstretched arms to reveal the footwear in question. “They’re here.” After Anthony’s exit, Sebastian set Lucia aside with a frustrated groan and a quick adjustment to the front of his jeans to ease the pressure. “That man has the most impeccable

timing.” Eager to try on the costume, Scarlet kicked off her shoes and unbuttoned her dress before the approving eyes of her lover. “Yes, but how many other mortals do you know who would knowingly work for a couple of vampires.” Michele Hauf 14 Sebastian sighed and absently plucked Lucia’s E string. “Good help is so hard to find nowadays.” He lay back on the bed and stared up at the waves of diaphanous white chiffon strung across the canopy while Scarlet wiggled and adjusted the ruffles around her shoulders. “This is so sexy.” Scarlet shimmied her shoulders and admired the bata de cola, the flamenco dancing dress, in the mirror. Two layers of thick red and black ruffles were set off the shoulder, melting into a smoothly gathered waistline. A triple row of ruffles started above her knee, trailing down into a long train that flowed across the stone floor. She was going to pose for the cover of Sebastian’s next CD, having been convinced by Sebastian that if he were to have a woman on his cover, it could only be her. “Mon dieu,” Sebastian drawled out as his eyes fixed on the vision he had seen so many times in his nightmares. The beautiful woman dancing in a stranger’s arms. Scarlet was the exact image of the woman. “What.” Scarlet spun around playfully, testing the movement of the ruffles with her bare toes. “Uh…it’s…lovely.” The dress had been red in his dream, identical to the one Scarlet wore now. He had no

idea who the strange man had been. And he had no intention of finding out. Scarlet would never betray him. Bound by the very joining of their souls, their love was too strong. Refusing to dwell on his nocturnal visions, Sebastian changed the subject. “Do a zapateado.” “A zappa-what.” “It is a very fast stamping of the feet—ah—perhaps something more graceful would suit you. Stretch your arm over your head.” Scarlet obliged, gracefully reaching up with one hand and tilting her head back slightly as she imagined a seductive kohl-eyed señorita would do. “Mmm,” Sebastian’s deep growl birthed from his groin. “You are a most exquisite vampire, chèrie. Why don’t you come over here and let me nibble on your neck.” She laughed, losing her graceful pose. “Your nibbles never stop at that. Besides, I don’t want to get blood on this dress. Wouldn’t look very good on your CD cover.” She fluffed the ruffles circling her shoulders and turned back to the mirror. Justly admonished, Sebastian absently wiped at his cheek and then looked at his hand. No blood. Just a dream. Setting aside his haunting dreams, he eyed the letter sitting on the night stand next to the picture of he and Scarlet. It was scribbled in rushed script, which made it a difficult read. “This is the letter Gary sent a week ago, before Wild Child returned from tour.” “Yes,” Scarlet spoke to Sebastian’s reflection in the mirror. “After reading that I was a

rived last night, I stopped. He seemed quite normal little worried about Vince. But when he ar

and happy, the way a guy should be when he’s just found out his band’s first album went

gold. I am surprised that he left so early, though.” Sebastian lazily scanned the letter, mumbling parts of it out loud. “Are things going well with Sebastian. I’m sure he’s told you we’ve run into each other a couple times on the road. He’s an all right guy, Scarlet, and I’m sorry for the way I treated him early on. I’ve come to accept him for what he is and I’m glad to say I once again consider him a friend. He’s a Wicked Angels - Sequel to Dark Rapture 15 good man, stay with him. He’ll protect you and care for you like I’ll never be able to do. Besides, I’ve only a normal lifetime to take care of you, Sebastian has eternity.... “Smart guy, your brother,” Sebastian added. Scarlet smirked at her reflection and tufted the ruffles up around her shoulders. “I’m worried about Vince,” Sebastian continued. “He’s not the same guy he used to be. I know being a vampire is probably enough to drastically change any sane man, but Scarlet, I don’t know anymore. You told me vampires generally feed only a few times a month. Right. So why is Vince gone every night after the concert. He doesn’t come in till around three or four and sometimes he seems almost drunk, though I know the man doesn’t drink. He never smells of alcohol. “Sometimes I wonder if he hasn’t killed because I’ll find a bloody t-shirt shredded and thrown in the trash.” “Stupid bastard,” Sebastian muttered. “He’s even threatened to leave the band a couple times. I’m scared for him, Scarlet. This man I share my life and the stage with is not Vince Lyons. He’s been drastically changed and I don’t know what to do. Maybe you or Sebastian could talk to him. Maybe it’s just me and my crazy imagination. God knows having a vampire for a best friend could work havoc on a man’s mind.” The crinkle of note paper caused Sebastian to waver back into his frazzled thoughts.

Was Vince addicted to the kill and the powerful rapture one experiences with the death of a mortal. Something he himself would never do and had strictly forbidden Scarlet to do. A victim’s death wasn’t necessary for survival, with only a small amount of blood needed to satisfy. The ruffles on Scarlet’s dress swished softly as she moved before the mirror. There was something between them. He felt it as a minute fissure at the center of his heart. Insignificant and barely there, yet…it was there. He knew she loved him dearly, but, for some unexplainable reason, not unconditionally as he loved her. The thought pained him deep in his heart. “I think I’ll have it taken in.” Scarlet held out a portion of fabric from her waist. “It hangs a little loose.”

oorway with a manila folder. “The courier is “Sebastian.” Anthony appeared in the d

waiting for these.” “Oh yes, I’ll take care of them right now, Anthony.” Sebastian jumped from the bed and on his way to the door stopped to brush Scarlet’s hair to the side to kiss her below her earlobe. Her shiver pleased him immensely. “I want to match this contract to the old one, check for changes before I sign. It should be about ten minutes.” “Hurry back.” The sound of a zipper unbinding stopped Sebastian in the doorway. He turned to catch Scarlet’s wink as she began to slip the dress from her shoulders. “Hold that pose,” he said.

Michele Hauf 16 Chapter Three Spain, 13th Century “What is his name.” Esmarelda asked as a chambermaid stripped her of her ruined clothing. “I don’t even know the name of my husband-to-be.” She had forgotten her earlier embarrassment and now jittered with a certain excitement. She was to be princess of this great castle. And her husband was…well, not so very ugly as she thought he might be. In fact, he was quite handsome in an oddly wicked sort of way. “I hope your heightened mood remains,” Paquita muttered bleakly as she pulled a carved tortoiseshell comb through Esmarelda’s hair. “Heaven knows you’ll need that to keep your spirits after becoming wife to the ‘ole devil below. His name, my dear, is Adriano el Sangriento, Prince of Castle Trastamara. But he’s the prince of darkness if you ask me. Now, turn around so I can put your gown on ye.” Esmeralda turned and raised her arms over her head. She gasped when she saw the dress Paquita had in mind for her to wear. “`Tis black!” “Of course it is, child. Black is what milord requests of his bride. Don’t balk, be a love and cooperate.” The soft black velvet fell over Esmarelda’s eyes and across her shoulders. “Why such a horrid color. It’s not even a color, `tis—” “The color of darkness. Prince Adriano doesn’t like colors, you’ll find. Do not expect to be seeing any spring-like greens or flowery reds in your wardrobe. Not much for brown myself,” she said of her own drab dress. “But `twill serve. You’ve such lovely

sunny hair.” Paquita pulled splayed fingers through Esmarelda’s tresses. “But then, they all do,” she added under her breath. The color of darkness. Why didn’t he like colors. Esmarelda wondered as Paquita bustled about her. Why was Paquita so ill towards her master. Adriano el Sangriento. The Bloody. A cruel shiver traced Esmarelda’s neck and spread across her back. She did not know much about the world and how things were supposed to be, having lived on the farm all her life, but...things seemed to be goi

ng quite oddly for one

about to wed. ***** Los Angeles – Present Day “This is coming along well, ” Scarlet said. Sebastian had provided Gary with a working copy of Wild Child’s video. There was still work to be done on it, but he wanted the band members to review the video and check for discrepancies like mismatched lip-synching or anything else they might think wrong. “Yeah, it’s looking pretty cool.” Gary watched, along with Scarlet, as Vince pranced across the TV screen, jumping from the castle battlements to the tower ledge. An amazing stunt that had surprised the crew members—though he and Scarlet knew better. “I like the

Wicked Angels - Sequel to Dark Rapture 17 gothic touch. The castle was the perfect place for filming. Now, if I could get Vince to take a look at it…” He gestured toward the yellow legal pad near Scarlet’s hand and she handed it to him. “Where is Vince anyway. I was going to update him on those diaries he found.” “If he’s still around, he should be up in his room. The jerk,” Gary muttered. Scarlet gave him a wondering lift of her brow. “He pisses me off constantly as of late. He’s never around— Here, toss this for me, will ya.” He tore a page from the tablet he had been making notes on and handed it to Scarlet. “He’s always gone and when he is around he’s trying to get me to let him sing these new songs of his. They’re sickening, Scarlet. Like death metal. One of them is called Screams From Below. It’s about people buried alive. Can you believe that.” Scarlet shrugged. Coming from a vampire it didn’t sound so odd. “Wild Child is mainstream rock n’ roll. Vince is moving in all the wrong directions lately. Ouch!” Gary splayed his hand open. Scarlet bent to examine it, but quickly pulled back. For a paper cut, he had really been slashed. Seeing her distress, Gary eyed her for a nervous second, then pressed his palm to his tshirt. “It’s nothing. You’d better hurry if you’re going to catch Vince.” Sensing his distrust, Scarlet nodded. “You don’t have to worry,” she said. “I’m not an animal. I can control myself.” A weak smile was all he managed. Scarlet turned and left him to himself. She never pushed when it came to her vampirism and Gary’s very obvious mortality. They were brother and sister, and Gary’s love for her would never falter nor would hers for him. But they were not of the same blood anymore, and though Gary had accepted her new lifestyle, their differences still

caused him some discomfort. From the top of the stairs, Scarlet could see Vince’s bedroom door ajar. The lights were out. She peeked inside his room. “Scarlet!” “Vince! Oh—“ Caught off guard, for a moment Vince just stood there, towel in hand, naked body dripping, until he realized his exposure. Scarlet shuffled back to the doorway, clutching the oak trim as Vince wrapped a towel around his naked hips. “I’m sorry!” “Chill, Scarlet.” He tossed a mop of wet hair over his shoulder and put his hands on his now-covered hips. “I’m sure it’s nothing you haven’t seen before.” He opened a dresser drawer and pulled out a t-shirt, cracking a wide

grin as she

peeked around the corner. Thoroughly embarrassed, but finding herself more angry at Vince’s snide remark, Scarlet ground her jaw together. Her fingers did not relax and release the doorknob until he wandered into his walk-in closet. Only then did Scarlet release her held breath. She had certainly gotten an eyeful. And at the moment the eyeful was causing her more than a little discomfort. She had always thought Vince to be quite a stick physically, his sixfoot-plus frame and lanky gate had never attracted her attention before. But the appearance of a well toned, iron-ribbed chest, and a very well hung— “So what do you want.” Vince called from the caverns of his closet. Michele Hauf 18 Want.

Scarlet shook her head to clear the debauched thoughts from her mind. Yes, the reason she had come here. “I think I’ll be ready for another of the diaries soon. I’m almost finished with the first volume, it was pretty thin.” “Cool. There are more in my drawer by the bed. You read anything about my father.” Scarlet pulled the drawer open. “Not yet. The diaries were written by an Alexandre Lyons II, whom I believe might be your great great—possibly another great— grandfather. He starts writing about the thirteenth century and this chick called Esmarelda. Fascinating stuff. I’m just to the part where she’s being forced to marry this evil Adriano dude.” “What was that.” Vince called from the depths of the walk-in closet. Vince wouldn’t care about a couple of ancient ancestors. He probably thought the thirteenth century was in the thirteen hundreds. “Oh nothing. I really want to read through the whole thing, not skip ahead. Just in case I miss something.” “What do you mean.” She cast her gaze into the depths of the closet, seeing only Vince’s feet beneath a curtain of shirts and jackets. “Well, you know, something important.” Like the meaning of my life! “Whatever. Why don’t you take a couple of them with you this time.” Vince appeared, dressed in his trademark hip-hugging suede pants with long fringes that shimmied along the seams from hip to hem. He hadn’t put a shirt on yet. Scarlet bit her lower lip. Suddenly the patchwork cotton bedspread interested her immensely. Since when could Vince strike a chord in her. Vince pulled a black t-shirt out of the drawer and flicked it sharply to remove the wrinkles. He held it up to examine Wild Child’s logo slashed in white letters. “I gotta cruise.” “Where are you going in such a hurry. Gary needs you to go over the video with him.” “I’ll do it later,” Vince replied. “I’m on my way to The Decadence, a place sweet little

Scarlet would never go.” “Really.” He had developed an attitude, a complete turnaround from his prevampire personality when he used to be puppy-eyed over her and barely spoke more than a few words to anyone. He has changed, she thought, looking over his body as he breezed out of the bedroom. Though, this change, strange as it seemed, had its appeal. Vince smoothed spread fingers through his hair and inhaled the sweet flavor of patchouli incense. The Decadence offered a sanctum of darkness and candlelight that Vince

ensual,

had grown to crave. Its dark-clad inhabitants came for the s

gothic music, for the illicit sex found in its many secluded alcoves and shadows, or just to sit and observe as the beautiful and morbidly glamorous lingered. Vince knew he could find what he needed here. A silent companion for the evening, a woman more intent on pleasing him than knowing what the latest fashion was, or who’s doing who, or one who can’t keep her eyes off the band members. All he wanted was someone to curl into his arms and follow his commands for sex, if he wished, and then slip slowly away as he pulled his fangs from her neck. He had already spotted tonight’s victim. She clung to the finger-print-smeared acrylic bar, shyly sipping a clear concoction that glittered in the candlelight. He caught her interest Wicked Angels - Sequel to Dark Rapture 19 and jerked his head, signaling she come over, but she turned away, batting thick

lashes over her green eyes before she did. Those mysterious green-eyed women. Vince smiled as he recalled the shocked look on Scarlet’s face when she’d caught him sans clothes earlier. But she had stayed… she hadn’t run away. Yes, she was interested. He could tell. He had tried once before to capture her attention, but Sebastian had distracted her. Well, things would be different this time. ***** Scarlet set the diary next to her feet on the burgundy damask divan. One of Sebastian’s melodies drifted from the stereo and caressed her thoughts. The acoustic flamenco pieces he played were romantic and seductive, lively and invigorating, and haunting all at the same time. Much like Sebastian. She often compared their love making, and the sex, to Sebastian’s various compositions. There was a difference between making love and having sex. Making love was when he took her gently in bed, sharing endlessly his passions and dreams, much like the tientos, the slow gypsy tango. Sex was when he pushed her up against the wall and took her from behind, or when she fell to her knees deep in the depths of the castle dungeon to satisfy their constant lust. A fast-paced coupling that she compared to the bulería. “I didn’t know you were going to see Vince.” Startled out of her thoughts, Scarlet pulled her legs up tight to her body. She could generally sense when Sebastian was near, but if her mind was occupied, forget it. He picked up the diary before she had a chance to defend herself. “I thought you

were going to see your brother.” “Gary does live with Vince.” She pulled the diary from his hands, finding herself angry at Sebastian’s unfounded suspicions. She loved him dearly but he had a jealous streak that blazed like a raging fire through her life. Didn’t he know she could never betray him. “I don’t understand why you have to be so suspicious all the time. Vince happened to be home so I let him know what was going on in the diaries. I did promise him I’d take a look at them, if you remember.”

at Sebastian, find

Scarlet stared blindly ing she almost always became transfixed on his face, the movement of his lips each time he spoke to her, the gentle tone of his voice. He had such a powerful hold over her, physically, emotionally and mentally. Over the past year she had breathed, touched and become a physical part of Sebastian. Their souls were one, intertwined in a voracious coupling that would see them to eternity. Oh, and he loved her. With all his being. But there was always that lingering feeling something was missing… “I’m hoping to find something in here that will clue me into my own life,” she said while smoothing her palm lovingly over the diary. “I know it’s in here. Answers. They’ve got to be.” “Scarlet.” Sebastian paced to the arched window that overlooked the grounds. Michele Hauf 20 From the stiffness of his posture and the tense gripping of his fists, she could tell he wasn’t pleased with her. She knew it pained him to no end he could not provide her with the answers she sought. Yet as much as she hated to hurt Sebastian, she could not

bring herself to accept her vampirism as is. She braced herself for his rebuttal. “Your thorns are showing, my love,” he whispered to the window. “What.” Sebastian swung around, tension pulling his mouth tight. The background music increased tempo, Sebastian’s guitar doubling in a hasty duet. “You know I would do what I can to find these answers you seek.” “I know that but—” “But why must you so blatantly expose my weaknesses to me. Do you take joy in it.” He started toward her in an angry burst that took her by surprise. “I love you dearly and do everything for you. I give you the moon and yet you always want more. Why can you not accept how things should be and live by my rules.” Scarlet dared to meet his defiant eyes. “Don’t you see. It is your rules and constant supervision of me and your…your…” Unnerved, Scarlet had to turn around to think or else find herself speechless. He laid a hand on her shoulder. “I love you, Scarlet. I want to protect and keep you from harm. Is caring for someone and making their every wish a reality so criminal. Have I become a monster in your eyes again.” A monster. For a few brief days after her transformation, Scarlet recalled, yes, she had been afraid of Sebastian and what he had done to her. No longer. “You’re smothering me,” she said, feeling the tears begin to well in her eyes. “Can’t you see. You’re always here, by my side, night and day. You go shopping with me. You take me along with you to the studio. I’ve never chosen my own donors, you always pick them for me.” If there was one thing that drove a stake between them it was Sebastian’s possessiveness.

“All I wanted from the beginning was to be together, by each other’s side. But also to learn. To explore and discover what makes me tick. I can’t function with you always hovering over my shoulder. You don’t even trust me to make a good choice when I need to feed.”

from some drunk or drug addict, or—” “Or what, Sebastian. Or kill. Is that it. Are you so afraid I will go too far “I want to make sure you don’t end up drinking

and discover there is more to this vampire life than I have seen. That there are wonders yet to discover—” “Wonders.” He grabbed her wrist and worked his obsidian stare deep into her own. “By taking the life of an innocent human being.” Scarlet flinched, twisting her hand free. “I could never kill, you know that.” “Then why do you bring it up. What’s going on with you, Scarlet. Why all of a sudden do you speak these things. Have you been so unhappy all this time. I never realized—” “No, Sebastian, it’s—God, I love you, but…” She shook her head, trying to find the words to explain the empty feeling inside. She did love him. Or at least it seemed like love, sharing his life, his bed and his blood. Wicked Angels - Sequel to Dark Rapture 21 Was it a lie. “You always push yourself to the limit.” She spoke carefully. “Your music. Your career, your love for me…but never your vampirism. I know there’s more. There has to be. It’s like I sense it. Like the blood that flows through my veins, there is a flow of

life passing the two of us by. Don’t you feel it, Sebastian.” “I feel nothing.” He paced past Scarlet, stopping by the doorway. “Damn!” He slashed the back of his hand across the wall, sending tiny fragments of age-old stone across the room. Scarlet stood her ground, preparing for his temper. But it never came. Sebastian strode away rubbing his fist in his palm. Was that it. Was he giving up so easily. “No!” Scarlet raced down the hallway, determined not to lose the fight. “You finish this, Sebastian DelaCourte! I will not stop my search for the truth.” He stopped by the wall, and Scarlet walked up behind him, sensing he still simmered. “But...but I don’t want you to be angry with me.” She tried to cool his mood. “I do this for both of us.” He swung around, slashing his hand across the candelabra on the wall, sending candles flying and hot wax sputtering across the stone walls and floor. The hallway went black, save for a narrow window behind him. Moonlight caressed the side of his face and hollowed his eye sockets. He approached Scarlet slowly, his eyes never wavering from hers, calm and wickedly casual, as a panther who stalks his frightened prey. Forced against the wall, Scarlet pressed her head to the cold stone. “For the both of us,” he said in a cool whisper. His hands encircled the base of her neck, never pressing, but gently preying upon the pulse in her throat. “Or perhaps it is for your own gain. Discover some hidden vampire powers within yourself, practice and gain skill, and then leave your unskilled lover, the man who can no longer function as your equal. Is that what would make you happy. To be rid of your blood master and out on your own.”

“No,” she whispered, afraid of what his gentle hands could do. He possessed a rare yet

ever survive witho

volatile temper. “Sebastian, I know I can n ut you. My heart…it is yours.” He looked past her, over her head. It seemed a lifetime before Sebastian spoke. “I just wish it was I who could give these elusive answers to you. I want to be everything to you.” His hands slipped down her body and fell in defeat at his sides. Saddened this regal man felt lacking, Scarlet smoothed her palm along his cheek. “Don’t forget, Sebastian, I do this for you.” He pushed against her body, burying his face in the thick darkness that ran over her shoulders and down across her chest. Their hearts began

to beat as

one. Their vampire blood synchronized and the same incredible pull Sebastian had toward her vibrated throughout Scarlet’s body, tempting her to pull him close. Clutching her tightly, he whispered in her ear, “Promise me nothing will ever tear us apart.” “I promise. Nothing. Never.” “Kiss me.” Michele Hauf 22 Sebastian lifted her and pushed her against the wall, securing her legs around his waist, and he pulled the shoulders of her dress down to her elbows. She shuddered as his mouth sought out her breasts, nipping and biting gently at her nipples. “Will you promise me forever.” he said in heated breaths. Scarlet plunged her fingers through his hair and pulled his kiss into a forceful press against her breasts. “Forever.” His fingers slipped down and found the pleading

pearl between her legs and began to satisfy her unspoken desires. “I promise!”

Wicked Angels - Sequel to Dark Rapture 23 Chapter Four Spain, 13th Century And so a handful of castle inhabitants joined in the great hall of the castle to witness the wedding nuptials of Esmarelda and Prince Adriano. Adriano stood before the priest, who motioned impatiently for Esmarelda to hustle over to his side. She hastened down the stone steps, her black skirts rustling softly against her legs. The thrill of the moment clouded over her dismal worries and she smiled. But again she only received quick glances and bowed heads. It is as if it were my funeral, not a wedding, she thought. She felt the warmth of a tear pool in her eye. No, her father’s voice whispered, you must be brave. Even Adriano did not smile as she took his side. His touch was icy. A cool grin cracked his pale face and she forced a smile. This will not be so horrible, she thought. He is not the beast Paquita has alluded to. He cannot be. He is a prince. The priest, a rotund, red-faced man, started immediately, as if he had done this a thousand times before in the same castle. The ceremony was Spanish, though some words were hard to decipher for Esmarelda spoke a rough Castilian Spanish. There came a point of understanding when Adriano pulled a band of worn braided silver from his pocket and

slipped it down two of her fingers before settling it onto the third. She looked to him shyly. She had no ring. A cool grin affixed to his face, Adriano raised his hand and wiggled his ring finger, already adorned with an ornate gold and ruby ring. Relieved, Esmarelda turned back to the priest as he took both she and Adriano’s hands and placed them together. More indecipherable words were spoken and then the priest made the sign of the cross before the two of them. A general hum amidst the watching people prompted Esmarelda that the ceremony was over. She was now Princess of Castle Trastámara, wife of Adriano el Sangriento. Though what came next was indeed perplexing. The priest hastily took his leave, gathering Bible and cross under h

is arm,

as did the entire crowd. Esmarelda turned to witness this crazy bustle and by the time she turned back to the altar the room was empty. In less than two minutes she stood alone in the lower dungeon with her new husband who had retreated up the steps to his throne where he now sat casually with his leg again propped over the arm. “Step forward,” he said in a deep whisper that chilled the very flesh on Esmarelda’s neck. “Look into my eyes and see what it is you have taken as your betrothed. Kiss your new husband. Just…this once.” His words curiously frightened her. …see what it is you have taken as your betrothed. As if he were some kind of beast... Esmarelda slowly closed the distance between she and her dark prince. Her slippered footsteps made not a sound on the cold stone. Yes, she must kiss him, as she

must do other things later in the marriage bed. And she wanted to kiss him. Truly she did. For she had Michele Hauf 24 never before kissed a man and dreams could only tantalize. This would finally be the answer to her longings. She bent forward, meeting his eyes as he made no move to assist in her endeavors. He tested her again, as he had when he’d had her stripped before him. This test I can pass, Esmarelda thought as she closed her eyes and felt her lips touch the coolness of Adriano’s mouth. He remained motionless as she pressed gently, then a bit firmer, becoming familiar with the feel of a man’s lips against hers. He smelled good, a mixture of spice and...cedar, she thought. And there was another scent, a deep, mannish scent that she had noticed before whenever her father sat close to her. She liked the feelings associated with the smell; strong, calming, male. The strength of a man’s mouth pressed to hers, sent forbidden shivers coursing throughout her body. Feelings and sensations that were no longer forbidden, for she was now a married woman. And she easily reveled in them. Esmarelda startled as the warmth of Adriano’s lips was intruded upon by something cool and hard. She pulled back with a gasp. Two long teeth had just lowered between his lips! They were sharp and slightly curved like that of a wolf. “Ah ha!” Adriano laughed at her fright. “You see what it is you have wed, my lovely one. Come close again. If you dare. I’ll not bite. Just yet.” Her eyes grew wide. Bite. “What—” “Vampyre is what I am called. I am immortal,” he said as his hand balled around

the tip of the chair arm. “A little more light to see the creature.” With a flick of his hand four torches lit behind him. The heat of the sudden flames bruised Esmarelda’s trust with the unrealness of what had just happened. He seemed genuinely pleased at her fright. “A silly trick, nothing more. The powers of the mind are astounding. But how is it you have not yet run screaming from the room.” Yes, how is it, she wondered. Esmarelda pressed her palm to her chest. Her heart beat frantically. She was frightened to be sure, but…curiosity also vied to beat a double rhythm against her ribcage. Vampyre. She had heard the folk tales. They were wild, fearless creatures that roamed

. But were

the night, killing and drinking blood from helpless victims

they not beasts. Creatures of the night. Hideous and ugly and they kept to themselves. This man was a prince! No, impossible. But yes! He sat there casually observing her, his ghastly white fangs as real as carved stone glimmering in the candlelight. Smooth porcelain skin, skin that was— strangely—not cold as the grave. Esmarelda pulled herself straight and took a deep breath. “My father taught me never to judge a man until I’ve lived a year in his troubles,” she said proudly and stepped back up the steps. “You say you are a vampyre, and so I see by your teeth that you may be. Am I to understand then, th-that I am to be your next victim.” “You are my lady wife, Esmarelda. I shall never call you victim.” Adriano swung his leg down to the floor and held a hand out, which she

reluctantly took. He looked her over from her toes, up and around her waist, slowing over the frantic rise of her breasts, then met her misted eyes with a satisfied smile. Wicked Angels - Sequel to Dark Rapture 25 “Rogero has done well this time. I am very pleased.” He tilted his head and a thick veil of his hair swung freely. “I am also pleased at your strange acceptance of me. Though I wonder now if the shock will be delayed and perhaps come later when you’ve had sufficient time to consider what sort of creature you have wed.” Yes, will it. Be brave, Esmarelda, her father’s words resounded within the confusion storming her head. Have courage. “I shall treat you as justly as you treat me. I am your wife, I have vowed to serve and care for you—” “Are you not afraid of death.” He rested his chin on steepled fingers. Adriano’s eyes were black as a child’s nightmare and so very cold. She could barely sputter her next words. “Is that your intention.” Adriano pulled her hand up to his lips and feathered them across her knuckles as he surmised her fear. A gesture so gentle it sent a surprised shiver down her arm. Yet it seemed he took the greatest pleasure from her fear. “A vampire must drink blood to survive, my lady. I can do so without killing. But know this: You are my wife. You shall serve me as I see fit, in my bed and as a cache of life that I depend on for survival.” She sucked in her lower lip. The teasing sensation he aroused with his touch played havoc with her emotions as her conscious struggled to make her see clearly. You are to be the

food for this man. He has every intention of drinking your blood to survive. The thought made her blood run cold. “To have a man sink his teeth into your neck is a painful thing,” Adriano said as his lips pressed a scintillating kiss to her hand. “But I promise the rapture will come quickly and you will grow to crave it.” His fangs grazed the pulsing blue vein beneath her flesh. Esmarelda pulled away, clutching her hand to her breast. “Esmarelda,” he whispered and drew his eyes slowly across her face. “I like that name.

His wicked laught

Esmarelda.” er echoed about the stone walls of the dungeon. “My lord.” She felt her courage waning. Adriano took her hand and led her quickly up the stairs. He opened the door and yelled down the empty hallway. “Paquita, where are you, you old hag. I know you’re lurking round the corner with your ears pricked.” At this rude calling, Paquita did indeed appear from around the corner. “Take my bride to my chambers and prepare her for our wedding night.” Adriano caught Esmarelda’s hand as she slipped out the doorway. He kissed it and granted her a smile that was at once delicious and so very evil. Los Angeles, present Alexandre Lyons II did have quite a flair for embellishment. Scarlet couldn’t be sure how much of the diary was truth and what was just plain fiction. But she could not deny it was compelling. She felt for Esmarelda, and Adriano, even if he was a creep. A creep who seemed to command the castle’s torches with a wave of his hand. A vampire skill. Or just another embellishment.

Michele Hauf 26 She glanced to the side where the flame of a candle had warmed her shoulder for the last forty-five minutes. An exhale extinguished the flame. Sulfurous smoke curled upward. Light. She seared her gaze onto the blackened wick. It was worth a try. Light, light, light! No such luck. “I’m a pitiful vampire. Can’t even do simple tricks. But I’ll never find out how unless I read another diary.” Unfortunately yesterday she had been so unnerved by her meeting with Vince she had completely forgotten about the diaries in his drawer. She picked up the telephone receiver and punched out Vince’s number. “Yeah.” “Vince, it’s Scarlet.” “Forget something.” “I can’t believe I didn’t bring them with me. My mind must have been a million miles away.” Or else thinking lewd thoughts about a man you had no right thinking of. Scarlet peeked around the kitchen doorway. A cherub sconce embraced a lit candle. Waving her hand, she tried to douse the flame. She snapped her fingers. Nothing. “I’ll bring the rest of them to Brandy’s tonight. You’re coming to the homecoming concert, aren’t you.” The flame did not react to her silly actions. “Of course, I would never miss a chance to see Wild Child perform. This is the last you’ll be giving until the Fury tour, right.” “Yep. In the meantime, we’ve got a lot of work to do, according to your brother. Not that it matters, Gary doesn’t really give a shit about my opinion lately. Ah…I

don’t want to get into this with you. I don’t want you to have to take sides. I’ll see you later.” “Who was that.” The receiver slipped off the wall unit and clattered to the floor. Scarlet scrambled to catch and clumsily replace it. She spun around, eyed the diary in a glance, then smoothed a relaxed smile on for Sebastian. “Oh…it was Gary. I just called to check what time Wild Child plays tonight.” Sebastian’s eyes averted to the diary. “Then I’

ll be sure to let

Anthony know his chauffeur services will be needed. I’m off, myself. Sunset Studios has sent a limo for me. Are you sure you won’t reconsider tagging along.” “Sebastian—” “I know. I’m sorry. You have plans to go see Wild Child.” He pushed his fingers back through his mane of gypsy hair and sighed. “Does that mean you won’t be able to kiss me good-bye.” Scarlet wrapped her arms over her lover’s shoulders. “Of course not.” She kissed him, finding the intense abandon that had originally come with his kisses was still there. No matter what her mood or her feelings toward Sebastian, at any given moment he need only kiss her to bring her around. Last night was proof enough. “Good luck. I know you’ll make an album that will take your fans’ breath away.” “I hope not. I prefer my fans breathing. Though…” He pulled her close and kissed her deeply. Her nipples pebbled beneath her clothes, which Sebastian must have instinctually been aware of for he grazed his thumb over each one in slow study. “…I don’t

mind stealing your breath away.” Wicked Angels - Sequel to Dark Rapture 27 “Mmm, well, you have my soul, that should be enough.” His kiss pulled the pulse of her heart down into her stomach and with each sweep of his hot tongue across hers she felt the pining urge to fall into his desires. Push him against the wall and tear his shirt open. Let her lips slide down his chest and across the hard muscular ridges on his stomach. “You’d better be going.” She nudged him gently, her body protesting against her stupid actions. “That sounds like the limo honking outside.” “Yes, very well.” He bent down and sucked one shrouded nipple into his mouth, biting the fabric with a teasing growl. “Au revoir, chèrie.” Wild Child was the middle act of Brandy’s three performances. Choosing to forgo wrestling with the crowd of headbangers and voracious dancers, Scarlet watched their final set from backstage. She returned a wink from Gary who then proceeded to rip into a lightningfast solo that had the men pumping their arms to the beat and the women swooning. It was great to see them perform live, though watching Vince was a bit disturbing. His shy smiles had been replaced by glares and he no longer threw out the uncatchable wink to his many female adorers. Vince’s stage performance had become vile and lecherous as he pranced across the stage, gyrating and seething. Deciding she’d seen enough, Scarlet followed the narrow hallway to the dressing room and plopped onto on a tattered couch. Someone had written ‘Country sucks’ in lipstick on the

cracked mirror. Most likely Vince. He was an extreme country music hater. Scarlet didn’t much care for the twangy stuff herself. She stretched her arms across the back of the couch, noticing it reeked of beer. The dressing room walls were pasted from floor to ceiling with pictures of bands, singers, and artists who had played at Brandy’s. She was surprised to see amongst the unknowns that many a famous name had played here. There was even a picture of Sebastian. It looked old, being faded and torn on one corner, but he still looked the same. As

he

would for probably another handful of centuries. That was one good thing about being a vampire. She would never age, or at least as far as she and Sebastian knew the aging process wouldn’t catch up with them for many centuries. Scarlet assessed her body. Beneath the short cotton dress were long well-toned legs and thighs, a slender waist, and full C-cup breasts. She was pleased with the way she would be for the next handful of centuries. “Good thing it happened when I was young,” she muttered, then jumped up to receive a big sweaty hug from Gary. “Damn good show.” Scott was the next to appear as he tossed his drum sticks into the air. “I gotta get going right away.” Rob tossed his bass guitar into the case and started threading the thick electrical cord around his arm. “My flight back home leaves in an hour. I’ll catch you guys in a month. Hey, Gary, hot solo tonight. Smashed ‘em into the walls!” “Thanks, man.” Seeing her disgusted face, Gary wiped a smear of sweat from

Scarlet’s cheek and then chucked it with his fist. “It’s just sweat, Scarlet. Geez, I’ve been working hard.” Michele Hauf 28 “Yeah. Working hard,” Vince muttered as he entered the room. He peeled the soaked t-shirt from his body and tossed it on the couch where Scarlet had sat. “So did you save the underwear or did you wipe your sweat all over them and throw ‘em back.” “Underwear.” Scarlet directed Gary’s chin back her way. He tried to avoid her by hiding his sheepish grin behind the body of his hot pink electric guitar. “Gary, did some woman throw her underwear at you.” “Happens every show,” Scott added and tossed a towel across the room, which Gary expertly caught and swiped across his face. “He had a collection on the bus.” “Shut up, Vince, Scarlet does not need to hear that.” “Oh brother,” she said. “That’s me.” Gary lifted the lid on his guitar case, nestling his valued Ibanez safely inside. “Oh Scarlet, I hate to tell you this but...” “What.” “I don’t know what you were planning to do tonight—if you were gonna hang with me or not—but...well, there’s a slight complication.” “Really. And just what does this complication look like.” Vince smothered a grunting laugh in his palm and smacked Gary across the back. “Well, she ain’t wearin’ no underwear, I can tell you that much.” Scarlet rolled her eyes. “I’m not going to say a thing. I’ve been after you about getting a girlfriend for a long time, so I guess I shouldn’t complain.” “Don’t worry, I know the lady. She’s safe.” Gary pulled a stick of gum from his pocket and shoved it in his mouth. “Look, I’m sorry, Scarlet,” he said as he ground the

stick into chewy submission. “But you don’t mind, do you.” “No, I didn’t have any plans.” Other than to spend time with you, she thought. “But I do have to hang around until one. Anthony’s not coming back for me until then.” “That’s another hour. Are you sure you want to wait around. Why don’t you take a cab.” Gary shoved a hand into his jeans pocket. “I’l

l give you

some cash.” “I can give you a ride. If you want.” Hearing Vince’s offer, Gary perked. “Hey, that’d be cool. Wouldn’t it, Scarlet.” She caught the repeated wink Gary flashed her way, well out of Vince’s line of sight. Meaning: Yeah, go along with Vince. Then you can talk to him and see if he’s really flipped his lid. “I guess that would be all right. I’ve had my fill of heavy metal for the year.” “Great.” Gary gave her another hug. “I hate to leave you but we’ve gotta clear out so the next band can get in here.” “Go ahead, I wouldn’t want you to keep your woman waiting. God knows she must be getting cold without any underwear.” “It’s a sultry night,” Gary said with another wink. “I’m sure she’s keeping quite well. I’ll give you a call tomorrow, Scarlet. Thanks Vince.” He grabbed his guitar and gear bag and followed Scott out. “I gotta grab my mike and jacket and then we can go.” Vince picked up his things. He pulled out a fresh t-shirt he’d stuffed into his jacket pocket and replaced it with his microphone. With a toss and fluff of his sweat-saturated hair, he motioned towards the door. “Did you bring the diary.”

Wicked Angels - Sequel to Dark Rapture 29 “Oh, yes.” Scarlet dashed to the dressing table and handed it to Vince. “Great, the rest are in my trunk. If we hang around for a few more minutes then the crowd by the back door will have thinned out. I hate trying to push through the screaming, grabbing fans when all I have in mind is to get the hell out of here.” “That’s fine.” Scarlet scanned the walls, trying desperately not to meet Vince’s baby blues. At that moment, she was very aware of the small size of the room. The walls closed in with every breath she took. Good thing he wasn’t wearing a towel. “It’ll give us some time to...talk.” “Oh.” Vince smirked and tossed a spray of sweaty blonde hair over his shoulder with an adroit jerk. “I get it now. Shit, I didn’t even see that one coming.” “What do you mean.” He jabbed a finger into his chest. “You want to talk to me. Gary put you up to this, didn’t he. I bet he planned on abandoning you so you could be alone with me. See if old Vince is off his rocker, eh.” He had guessed almost exactly right. Though it hadn’t been planned. He shrugged. “It’s cool. Whatever. Gary and I haven’t been on best of terms lately. I think he’s starting to rethink this idea of having a vampire as a friend. Hell, I know I’ve changed, Scarlet, I’ll be the first to admit it. But what did you guys expect. I mean, I’m a vampire now. I stalk mortals and suck their blood to survive. What did you think I was going to do, start wearing zip-up sweaters and sing ‘It’s a beautiful day in the neighborhood. Christ!” “In case you don’t remember, Vince Lyons,” she ground his name through her teeth. “My life has changed, too. We’re in this together. I just want to be your friend. I

want to know what’s going on with you. Gary says you’re never around and you’ve withdrawn from him and all your friends.” “I’ve been withdrawn. What about him. I told you he won’t even look at the songs I’ve written.”

ry said they were

“Ga a little too macabre for Wild Child.” “Shit.” “Wild Child is mainstream rock, he says your stuff is closer to death metal. Come on, Vince, Screams From Below.” Vince tapped the diary against the door jamb. It was obvious to Scarlet he couldn’t see he was headed in a very different direction than Gary and the other guys in the band. “What have you been doing with yourself lately. Gary told me you’re never around after a concert. Do you drink blood every night.” “And what if I do.” “Vince.” He tucked the diary under his arm and peeked outside the door, closing it quickly upon seeing two girls in short tight skirts walk by. “I don’t need a lecture, Scarlet,” he hissed. “I’m trying to understand how to live day to day as this fucked up creature the mortals call vampire.” “But you don’t understand, do you, Vince. My God, I don’t even understand what it’s all about. If I didn’t have Sebastian—” He smirked, cutting her off abruptly. “Sebastian DelaCourte. Mr. Perfect Vampire. That is one dude I have no desire to be like. He’s not a vampire, Scarlet, he’s a monster in my eyes. A monster who is afraid to be what he really is and he’s making you the same. Can’t Michele Hauf

30 you see.” His gaze strolled down her body, blatantly taking in her curves. “Seems like you’re doing well enough, though. Ole Baz must be taking pretty good care of you, huh.” Scarlet sighed and shrugged, feeling Vince’s eyes radiate a heat of their own as they traveled the length of her body. “Yes, I suppose so.” “So why the heavy sigh.” “I don’t know…I just… know there’s more. I know it. There’s more than a monthly withdrawal of blood from a donor chosen by Sebastian. There’s more than sleeping days and living nights. There’s something missing from my life, Vince. I just don’t know what it is.” “So I take it you’ve never had the thrill of…” Vince paused. “The kill.” Scarlet finished for him. “You do kill, don’t you, Vince.” “So what if I do.” He’d had enough. Vince pushed the door open and strode down the hall, prompting Scarlet to follow. A gush of dry summer air and cigarette smoke filled the hallway as he shoved the back door open and skipped down the steps. There were half a dozen girls outside, some clutching scraps of paper in hopes of an autograph. Each ran to Vince as his boots hit the pavement. “Fuck off!” Wide-eyed silent stares watched as Scarlet ran after Vince across the parking lot. She caught up to him as he lifted the trunk lid and threw the diary and his microphone inside. “Don’t you feel any guilt or remorse.” she said. “Isn’t knowing that somewhere out there there’s a family mourning the loss of a child because of your selfishness. My God, you have changed, Vince. You used to be so—” “This is the way I’ve always been…since birth.”

Yes, Scarlet knew he had been a vampire since birth. His father had been a vampire and his mother a mortal. He had never known the debilitating headaches he’d suffered since

ger. A hunger only realized when Francesco Volierre—a puberty were signs of the blood hun

former enemy of Sebastian’s, a vampire who was now, thankfully, dead—had transformed him. “You have no morals left whatsoever, do you.” She scanned the parking lot to be sure no one could hear. The girls outside the back door huddled in a circle sharing a grit. “Morals.” He swung around with another leather-bound diary in hand and met her eye to eye, causing Scarlet to falter and step back. “Yes, m-morals. Just because you’re a vampire doesn’t mean you can toss your human morals out with yesterday’s trash. You know there are certain rules—” “Sebastian’s rules,” he spoke fiercely. “Which are the rules of one stupid man who thinks he can control a helpless young girl with them. My God, Scarlet, you should be able to see.” He pounded his chest with a fist. “It’s part of our nature. We are vampires.” He grabbed her hand and pressed it to his chest. “Can’t you feel it.” She tried to pull away but Vince held her tightly. His pulse beat a frantic tattoo against her palm. “This is not the pounding of Sebastian’s heart—some old vampire who is afraid to live, afraid to be himself—this is the heartbeat of a young, strong, curious man who wants to become the true monster I am.” Wicked Angels - Sequel to Dark Rapture

31 Scarlet tried to pull out of his grip but with one quick jerk from Vince she stood eye to eye with him, breathing his breath, and inhaling the bar smoke that lingered in his hair. “Am I scaring you.” “Vince—” “Good!” His eyes jetted back and forth between hers. “That’s what vampires are supposed to do. We feed on the blood of mortals. We can’t survive without the blood. Yes, it’s wrong for a mortal to kill, but only because that is not what they need to survive. But us... We need the blood from the kill.” He released her and Scarlet stumbled back against his car. “You know as well as I we need very little to survive.” “So Sebastian says. But take a look at yourself and him, Scarlet.” His hands traced her outline in the air between them. “You’re just acting the role. You’re a facade of what you really are. If you were to plunge headfirst into the vampire lifestyle, like me, then your eyes would be cleared. My God…” His eyes traveled her body. “You would make such a lovely vampire, Scarlet.” Scarlet’s surprised gasp startled Vince out of his seductive observation. He cleared his throat. “As it is…you are nothing but Sebastian’s slave right now.” “I am not!” she replied sternly. “And you don’t have to kill. The only reason you do it is to satisfy your fantasies and—and to get off! You’re addicted, aren’t you, Vince. You need to kill to sustain your own level of morbid satisfaction. You’re more demented than I thought.” “I am not demented! If I was—” He stopped abruptly, turned and shoved his hands in his pockets. A slick-haired black alley cat had joined the two and sat ten paces away, eyeing

them curiously with its golden stare. “If I was…I could never fall in love.” “Love.” Scarlet started after him. “And who is it. Some groupie who serviced your

our shows.”

needs for five minutes after one of y

Vince shrugged and let out a short laugh that was more a snort. “Living with Sebastian has blinded you.” She barely heard his voice. “What.” “I’m in love with a girl whose name is Scarlet Rose.” He turned around and for a moment Scarlet thought she saw the lost innocence flicker in his brilliant blue eyes. “But my heart pumps in vain for she is the captive of a droll, boring vampire who never lets her out to feed and to enjoy the vampire experience.” “Shut up, Vince, you’re just—” “Making it up.” He lunged into her aura and she could taste the bar smoke mixed with the tempting smell of his own body scent. “You think I don’t have feelings for you, Scarlet. You know I had the chance to interfere—to jump in before Sebastian ever met you—but I didn’t. Shit, I could kick myself for that now. I should have never let him go out with you.” He clenched a fist near his face, releasing it with a sigh. “Not that it really matters any more. You’ve become his little puppy dog. Anything for a bone, eh.” Scarlet was stunned to hear such an outpour from Vince. She’d always known of his attraction to her but she had never thought it more than a crush. “You think I’m some deranged lunatic, don’t you.” He swung around. “But you can’t tell me you’re not curious.” “What.” Michele Hauf

32 He leaned against his Monte Carlo, crossing his arms over his chest. The sweat had dried around his face and his hair was fluffed from the wind. “Come on, Scarlet. You say there’s something missing. Well I’ve got the answer for you.” She shook her head but he ignored her disinterest. “You can’t imagine what it’s like when the victim’s heart bursts beneath my hands. And the tremendous rush you get, its like…” He searched the air before him, his hands caressing the sky, “…it’s like the rapture the Christian’s describe when they become one with God. Scarlet…this…is my unholy rapture.” “Please, Vince.” She turned away, finding his sparkling stare almost as unnerving as Sebastian’s. “It can’t be that fabulous. Why should I even be curious about this supposed rapture. The blood rush is the ultimate and I know I’ve had orgasms as earth shattering as I could ever imagine—” “With Sebastian.” She knew he was staring at her, waiting for her to show some sign of doubt or curiosity. “Yes, with Sebastian.” She turned around and boldly met his stare. “Sex between two vampires is the ultimate, you know.”

to remain in control. Flashes of him in his bedroom, wrapping a towel around his waist, threatened to break His eyes never left hers as Scarlet struggled

down the barrier she fought to maintain. “No, I don’t know. I’ve never fucked another vampire.” “And aren’t you curious.” His brow arced and Scarlet wished she had never said that. She was the only

female vampire around that either of them knew about. “Of course I am.” His gaze traveled her body, clad in a thigh length cotton dress and flat-soled black boots. “And unlike you I’m not afraid to admit my curiosity.” “I’m not even interested,” she said and thought to end the conversation by walking to the passenger door, but was promptly halted by Vince. “I promise you, it’s the most amazing thing.” She looked down at his fingers, clutching her arm, and back up to his eyes, which pleaded so innocently. Vince glanced down the alleyway across the street from the parking lot where the echoes of a woman’s high heels bounced off the brick walls of the three-story buildings. He nodded her direction. “Come on.” Scarlet spied the girl and immediately knew what Vince had in mind. She pulled from his grasp and shook her head, though she was unsure herself what she wanted to do. You wanted to learn more. This is your chance. Vince gestured with two fingers as he started across the parking lot. “I dare you.” Wicked Angels - Sequel to Dark Rapture 33 Chapter Five Spain, 13th century The rushes had been strewn with sweet smelling herbs. During the day a narrow window slit in the curve of the tower room provided the only light. The coverlet lay motionless and dead across the bed. It was of red velvet studded in sparkling rubies, trimmed in thick gray wolves’ fur. There were no other furnishings in the small chamber, save for the chest at the end of the bed, of which Paquita had placed Esmarelda’s few

personal possessions. There were no signs of Adriano having ever lain on the massive bed. Nor were there any personal possessions of his own set about. Esmarelda pressed her fingers deep into a tuft of fur. She tried to convince herself the shiver trickling down her spine was because of the cool gray bristles, but had little success. Paquita had spoken nary a word as she’d helped her from her black wedding clothes and into the thin gauze night shift she now wore. The chatelaine had quickly combed out her hair and then with a strangely sad look, she left. Esmarelda recalled Adriano’s brazen show of fangs after the ceremony and his trick of light with a flick of his hand. They must know what their master is. But how. Did he drink from them. Were they prisoners of this castle. Zombies of the dark vampyre lord who ruled over them. Esmarelda touched her upper lip, sliding her finger in to scrape across the

longer teeth that curved to a gentle and nonviolent point. Vampyre. The word twisted around her thoughts like a viper squeezing its prey. She felt the prey, choked and gasping, unable to utter a word against it. Her father had taught her to love all humans. Adriano’s words echoed in her head. I am not human. Then…what. A beast. Would he transform into a wicked creature with hooves and pointed tail with the light of the moon. Would he come raging and foaming at the mouth into her chamber. Would he be blood-starved and crazed, his eyes glowing red and his actions not

his own. Esmarelda stepped over to the narrow window. The moon was a half disc in the deep purple-gray sky. I will not kill you. But what would he do. Drink her blood like a blood thirsty beast. Or perhaps, it wasn’t that way. He looked human. And he seemed quite well mannered and of reasonable mind. Esmarelda recalled the torches that had lit without touch of human hands. He possessed some power not of this earth. Knowing her husband would come to her tonight and most likely drink her blood Esmarelda tried desperately to calm herself. But he will also come to consummate the marriage. Yes. She had dreamed of this night for years. The anticipation of her husband’s touch, his hands upon her body, his mouth pressed to her lips, come to bind the two in eternal love. Michele Hauf 34 A firm rap at her bedroom door made Esmarelda spin around. It was as if she could almost see through the thick wooden door. See his tall, thin outline, the feathery hair that brushed past his elbows, the narrow line of his legs. “I’ve come for you.” His voice set her heart racing. So deep and cold it was, as if a massive stone block were being pushed to seal up the darkened hollows of a tomb. Yet oddly...passionate. Another rap. “Esmarelda.” “The door is open, my lord,” she struggled to keep reasonable calm to her voice. The door opened and Adriano stepped into the weak glow spanning from the single candle set into the iron wall sconce. He carried no torch, nor had a candle lit his way up the spiraling stairs. His face was so pale he seemed a shadow of a discarded soul. Black shrouded him from his raven tresses to the pounded leather that circled his arms and

covered his feet. Immediately aware of her lack of clothing, Esmarelda pressed crossed arms to her chest and took a step back toward the bed. Be brave, her conscious whispered. You are this man’s wife. It is your duty to please him and take him to your bed. “My lord.” She offered a nervous bow and respectfully lowered her eyes to the floor. A cool chill captured her breath. He held a twist of her hair in his hand. She hadn’t even seen him move to cross the room. It was almost as if he had floated. He tilted her chin up so their eyes met. “Is the sky truly so lovely.” “M-my lord.” “Your eyes,” he whispered deeply. “Is this the color of the sky when the sun

shines.” Esmarelda recalled with a slight twitch of her fingers the stories she had heard of vampyres. Of course, they could not come out during the day for fear of burning. Had he never seen the light of day. “Truly the sky is more brilliant, my lord. Perhaps if you held a pale sapphire up to the flame you would see the color you search for.” He tilted his head, his brows rising slightly as she tried desperately not to look away from his discerning gaze. “It has been a very long time,” he offered, with a rueful glance toward the midnight sky. “I shall have to be satisfied with what I have.” He released her hair and strode past her, looking over the red coverlet. “You have never lain with a man before.” “Nay, my lord.” “Good.” His sudden touch on the back of her arm, so gentle, startled her. The coolness of his

flesh permeated the gauze and rippled another chill through her body and set her nipples up hard against the thin fabric. He turned her about so Esmarelda stood toe to toe with him. “Remove my clothes, my lady.” Staring into her husband’s dark gaze, Esmarelda saw no animalistic cruelty drooling for the prey’s weakness, no malicious rage burning fiercely. No. There was only curiosity and perhaps…a compassion of sorts. So he was not going to throw her to the bed and rape her. Nor was he going to rip her throat out in a lustful frenzy for blood. Or perhaps…he was just prolonging it. Wicked Angels - Sequel to Dark Rapture 35 She bowed quickly and touched her fingers to the leather ties that pulled his doublet closed. It was hard to make her fingers do her bidding as Adriano’s dark, emotionless stare kept watch. Finally all ties were unknotted and his doublet slipped to the floor. Esmarelda pulled the tie near his throat loose to reveal pale flesh stretched over taut muscles. She tried fervently not to touch his cool skin but she could not help herself. An eagerness and curiosity to discover the pleasure a man could offer overwhelmed her. She pressed her palm to his chest just below the rosy circle of his nipple. His heart beat fast. Perhaps he was nervous, too. He pressed a hand over hers. Never had such a simple gesture felt so intimate and possessive. Esmarelda drew in her breath and dared to look into his eyes again. “Forgive me,” he said. “You are young and naive and should be afforded the luxury of time and exploration. But…” He drew a long breath through his teeth and when he did his heart beat was all the stronger against Esmarelda’s palm. “Your touch does not

preach patience. I cannot bare this for a moment longer. Unlace my hose. Quickly.” Esmarelda daintily tugged at the ties about her husband’s waist, releasing shirt from hose. Adriano kicked his boots to the wall and pulled the white gauze up to Esmarelda’s armpits. “Raise your arms,” he demanded. There was no time for modesty. She would not be allowed to slip under the coverlet before removing her gown as she had hoped. Her body prickled with thousands of shivering bumps as her gown slipped over her head and landed on the floor near Adriano’s crumpled boots. She hadn’t time to cower back against the bed, nor to even give a curious glance her husband’s way. Adriano spun Esmarelda around and pressed himself tight against her thighs and her back, pulling her hair away from her neck with his fingers. Hot, rampant breaths

ed her ear. Losin

kiss g balance, Esmarelda caught herself against the soft gray fur. Her fingers crushed the velvet as her husband pushed her forward and slid his hand down her naked thigh. He buried his face in the waves of hair that flowed down her back. “Mmm, so precious.” His hand roved up her leg and curled over her belly. Closing her eyes, Esmarelda squeezed up a wodge of velvet in her fist as she bared the embarrassment of a man’s hands on her breast. But embarrassment gave way to a surprising reaction. The firm pressure of his fingers squeezing her nipple caused a sensation of want to race to her loins. The mysterious hardness that pressed against the back of her thigh made her want to reach back to touch it. But wasn’t he supposed to kiss her. And the gentle touch of a man. Where was

that. He was in such a rush. In all her dreams... He is a beast. You can expect no more. “Pull back the coverlet,” he commanded. Adriano pressed his hands to the bed just beside her head. His features were shadowed and his hair fell to her shoulders. As if by instinct, she parted her legs. And then a red pain stabbed at her loins and Esmarelda cried out. “Only once,” he whispered into her ear as he entered her and his rhythms increased. “But with my kiss, you will not cry out.” His body convulsed and at that same moment, another pain shot through Esmarelda’s body. Adriano’s daggers pierced her flesh and his lips began their own lewd rhythms against Michele Hauf 36 her neck. But she did not cry out as he’d commanded. Instead, a dizzying swoon pulled across her senses as quickly and smoothly as the blood being siphoned from her vein. *** He stood, gathered his clothes into his hands and quickly dressed. Esmarelda lay silent behind him. Shivering and unsure, but—curiously—not afraid. This new girl’s brave silence threw Adriano. The others had never stood his violence so well. Most had shrieked and set up such a display of theatrics every time he crossed the threshold to this very bed he was glad by the time they perished. Ah, this one was different. Adriano licked his lips clean of the delicious concoction that prolonged his life and sustained hers. I will not turn around, he thought. I do not want to feel. It is bad to feel the emotions that were once there. She is only a living supply of food that soon will

be vanquished as all the others. He walked to the door and opened it. “You shall adjust yourself to my schedule,” he muttered. “Sleep during the day and then be ready for my nightly visits. Good eve, my lady.” ***** Los Angeles, present Vince was halfway across the parking lot when Scarlet realized he was not going to give

an. Like it or not she was stuck. He had invited her her a ride until he had fed on the wom

along but she had no desire to engage in his kind of fun. She startled when something tickled across her ankle. “Oh, kitty, don’t scare me like that.” The stray purred sweetly and eyed her with two golden orbs set deep into thick black fur. “Hey.” She reached to pet it, but the cat dashed away. “Don’t leave.” Seeming to understand, the cat stopped and glanced back. It was satisfied to wait, as long as she didn’t try to touch it. Or at least, that was the feeling Scarlet got. Strange. It was as if she could understand the little beast. “First I’m some paranormal being, and now I’m picking up mental messages from cats. What a nut you’ve become, Scarlet.” She checked her watch. Midnight. Anthony wouldn’t be back for another hour, unless he arrived early, which he usually did. The new diaries still lie on the trunk. Scarlet looked back down the alley. Vince had crossed the street, his long strides moving him quickly until he reached the

facade of the brick building where he stopped, turned toward her, and leaned against the wall to casually wait. I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to just watch. But if Sebastian ever found out… It could be interesting. I might even discover what makes Vince tick. She wasn’t sure, but there was something, some forceful pull, that made her want to discover more about Vince. Maybe it’s lust, an inner voice whispered. You couldn’t drag your eyes away when you saw him standing naked in his room. Wicked Angels - Sequel to Dark Rapture 37 “No,” she whispered. He’s a friend; I want to see that he’s all right. He’s not as crazy as Gary thinks. And maybe, just maybe, he has the answers. There was only one way to find out. Scarlet grabbed up the diaries so no one could walk by and take them, and crossed the street, followed curiously by the stray cat. Seeing she was coming, Vince started ahead, turning down the narrow dark passageway that the woman had slipped into. She stayed about twenty feet behind him, not eager to get too close lest he should think she was really gung ho about this whole idea. She wasn’t. But she became more relaxed as she watched him go through the motions. “Hey!” The girl spun around, prepared to scream, but when she saw the blonde man smiling at her she stepped forward, not noticing Scarlet who hung back in the cool shadows. “Oh my God!” she gushed and her vibrant red fingernails flew to her matching red lips. “You’re…the guy…who was just singing. Oh, this is so cool. What are you doing here. Oh, it doesn’t matter. Oh my God, this is so incredible! Could you sign an autograph.”

She shuffled through her purse, producing a black marker. “Shit, I don’t have any paper.” Vince plucked the felt-tip pen from her hand. “Chill, baby.” He carefully wrote on the exposed mounds of her silicon-enhanced breasts. “There.” “Let me see.” “Just wait.” Vince dropped the pen back in her purse. He wasted no time as he proceeded to silence her silly gushing with a deep kiss. Scarlet tensed as Vince pushed the girl against the brick wall, his hands groping her breasts and hips

ir as handlebars.

as she pulled his face closer using his ha Had he wanted her to follow him so she could see this. “Hope you don’t mind.” Vince broke contact with the woman and gestured toward Scarlet. “But I brought a guest.” “Huh.” Before the girl could protest, Vince pushed her head back against the wall and locked onto her neck, containing her feeble struggles in his iron-strong arms. This much Scarlet was familiar with and she watched with relative indifference. Vince fed until his victim finally climaxed from the blood release and slumped in his arms. Scarlet was surprised when her own fangs started to descend in her mouth. Quickly, she willed them back into their sockets, thinking it strange how aroused she became by watching another vampire take blood. Maybe it wasn’t so much that, as watching Vince take blood. The muscles in his arms flexed as he held the woman up. His legs, long and thin, clothed in tight brown leather and spread wide for balance, straightened as he pushed his groin into his victim’s hips. What really sent chills through Scarlet’s body was the closeness, the intimacy, as Vince’s

fingers twisted through the girl’s red hair and his body pressed tight to hers to hold her up, all the while rocking rhythmically against her in a lewd tempo. He was making love to this woman without removing her clothes. His lips kissed the delicate skin of her neck as he sucked away her precious life, his hands played roughly over her breasts and hips, stealing her flesh for his own evil pleasure, and his body melded hard to hers, soaking up her shuddering climax. Michele Hauf 38 And his teeth. His snow-white daggers, pushed along the vein that contained her very mortal essence. Her life. Scarlet shivered as she ran her tongue along her lower lip. The control Vince exercised

ictim was wickedly tantalizing. Though the redhead struggled no more, Scarlet over his v

couldn’t help wonder if the woman could still feel the rhythmic pump of Vince’s tongue pressing against her neck or the slow thrusting of his groin into hers. All of a sudden, Vince released the woman and she slid to the ground in a heap. He reeled backward, hitting the opposite wall with one shoulder, his hands pressed palm-first to his head. An orgasmic moan escaped his lips and he staggered to the left and then to the right. He looked more drunk than lost in the throes of some insurmountable passion but Scarlet found it impossible to take her eyes from him. He breathed deeply, his gasps sounding to her like a man in passionate fury, ready to come again if only given the chance. She was reminded of Sebastian lying over her, gasping as they made love.

Maybe there is something more to this. She eyed the girl heaped on the ground with the words fuck you scrawled across her chest, and then looked to Vince. The girl, Vince, and back again. A noise at her feet startled Scarlet out of her trance. The alley cat meowed and glared up at her. Scarlet eyed the tiny beast, intent on gazing up at her, as if it were trying to communicate telepathically. And then a shuddering feeling swallowed her up. Not this way. She jerked her head back to Vince. She was a part of this…an accomplice. To murder. “I’ve got to get out of here, Vince. I can’t be here.” She ran down the alleyway, stopped at the corner of the building to glance back for one last look, and then crossed the parking lot.

Wicked Angels - Sequel to Dark Rapture 39 Chapter Six The back of the limo was cool and dark. Scarlet thanked Anthony for his early arrival, and settled into the soft maroon leather, her fingers curling about the short stack of diaries. Don’t think about it, she thought. Erase from your mind everything you saw Vince do. That was not you. It never will be. Frantic to occupy her racing thoughts, Scarlet popped open another diary and traced her finger across the first few sentences. Esmarelda woke to a burning streak of daylight stretching across the red velvet. She pulled the

coverlet over her face and closed her eyes. He is truly a beast. Could that be Vince. If the legacy were true, than perhaps Adriano El Sangriento could be Vince’s forefather. The man responsible for Vince’s murderous nature. But Adriano must have a soul. Somewhere… From beneath the sanctity of the warm spread Esmarelda touched the smooth skin on her neck.

night. Sunk his

No wounds! But how. He had bitten her last sharpened daggers deep into her flesh and moaned the most animalistic growl as he did. Her blood had brought him great pleasure. Far greater pleasure than the sexual act had. Esmarelda let her hand slide across her stomach and between her legs. That pain too, had only been momentary. As with his bite, the pleasure that followed had been incredible. A beast. No. He did not harm her more than to take his pleasures. And the wounds had already healed. But that is just it, her conscience whispered, he took his pleasures. What of yours. “You want this too, Scarlet!” Vince yelled after her. “I know you do!” He pulled a knife from his pocket and bent over the redhead. He pressed hard, pulling the blade across the bite marks on her neck. “Seems the woman is a trifle repulsed at your choice of pleasures.” Vince jerked around. He scanned the alleyway for the smug voice he had heard, finding, sitting on the middle of the iron stairway overhead, a man who may have witnessed the entire scene. With one great leap he landed on the stairs. “Who are you.” He grabbed the man’s collar, but immediately dropped it, pulling his hand to his chest as if he’d been

burned. “Your hasty violence intrigues me.” The man settled back against the brick wall and straightened the collar of his black jacket, ignoring Vince’s outburst. “What the hell do you mean.” Vince gasped. “Where are you from.” He looked at his palm, knowing the familiar sensations that had shocked him upon touching the man. The shimmer. “You’re a…a vampire.” The man nodded. “Yet I had no idea you were near. Why.” Michele Hauf 40 It was quite dark in the protection of the tall buildings. Vince was unable to make out much of the man’s appearance other than the unruly hair tousled about his head in a nonexistent style. Shadows worked across his face, a frightening mask of utter beauty and inner violence preying from murky eyes indiscernible of color in the darkness. “You were too involved in the kill to notice me. Who was the girl.” the stranger asked with a nod down the alleyway. “Not the heap on the ground but the one who ran.” Vince bent close, but faltered, catching his hand on the railing when he felt more as if he were being peeled layer by layer by this man’s shadowed eyes. “Who are you.” “Was she a friend.” the stranger asked, obviously hearing Vince’s inquiry but having no mind to comply. His ignorance infuriated Vince but he played along. This was a chance he’d never before encountered. The only vampires he had ever known were Scarlet and Sebastian, and then there was the devious Francesco—may his soul be burning in hell at this very moment. But now here he stood with another, a fellow vampire.

Vince was cautious. “She’s a friend. What’s it to you. If you’re thinking about laying your fangs on her you can forget it because she already belongs to someone else.” “Another vampire.” The man didn’t ask, he stated the fact as if he knew it. “I sensed she was of our kind. I also assumed she is not yours to judge from the way she ran.” Tilting back a shoulder, the man eyed the roof ledge eight feet above the two. His hair, a deep mahogany in the glow of the streetlights, blew out across his shoulders as a gust of wind passed over their heads. He jumped, leaving Vince staring up. “She must mean a great deal to you for you to allow her to watch such a secret part of yourself.” The stranger leaned over the rooftop and gestured for Vince to join him. “I have a

feeling you guard your secret well. Though I also sense you wish for companionship in your devil’s lifetime.” Vince looked down over the alleyway’s sparkling pools of water and grime. The dead woman’s face stared up at him, teasing him with her lost life. I shall haunt you in your dreams. Yes, the nightmares would come later tonight. Didn’t matter. He was used to the crazy images that flashed into his mind, images of his victim’s nightmares. They were a part of the bargain when taking someone’s life. With death, the victim’s nightmares were transferred to the vampire’s soul. It usually took a couple hours or sometimes days before they completely left, just depended on how ravaged a life the victim had led. Vince snapped around and leapt to the rooftop, finding the man had crossed the building and sat on the far side, his long black coat blowing out behind him.

“I wanted to show her what it was like.” Vince approached slowly. “Tasting death.” “She never has.” “No.” Vince sized the new vampire up, sure to let him see he was not afraid. He would attack if provoked. “The vampire she lives with, her blood master, would never permit it. He’s way too restrained and forces too many rules on her.” “And you think you can relieve her of this…restrictive relationship.” The man’s curious grin charmed Vince closer and he sat next to him on the roof ledge, their legs dangling above the alleyway. “None of your business.” Vince found from where he sat the glow of the street light flowed across the bottom of the stranger’s face. He was surprised at the beauty that graced his smooth, angular jawline. A thin mustache traced above a bow mouth, and dark shadows Wicked Angels - Sequel to Dark Rapture 41 hollowed the flesh below his cheekbones. The light glimmered and flashed off a thick silver cross that peeked out from the man’s jacket. “I don’t even know who you are.” “Forgive me.” He casually offered his hand, weighed heavily with thick silver rings and stones of shimmering blue. “My name is Federico Bellange. Rico, to my friends, and to you. I caught the last part of your show. Tell me, Vince, why is it you associate with so many mortals. I sensed you were the only of our kind in the band.” “Mmm,” Vince agreed with a laughing shrug. “It’s a long story. The lead guitarist is my best friend. At least I think he is. Things have been kind of funky between the two of us since I’ve vamped out.” Rico nodded and stared across the rooftops. “So you’ve only recently become one of God’s wicked angels.” “Wicked angel. Why do you call us that. A vampire is the furthest thing from an

angel I can imagine.” “Ah…but we are all born onto this earth as innocent, sinless angels.” Rico’s voice was gentle and deep, harboring a soothing glint of restrained evil. “Even Satan was once an angel, if you’ll recall. Lucifer, Bringer of Light, condemned to rule the bowels of hell. But we, the vampire, still roam the earth, not quite sure whether our final sleep shall bring us back to our heavenly creator, or perhaps down into the darkness. Either way you look at it, we are the wicked ones, the devilish souls who live on human blood

.”

Vince shrugged, finding he liked the term. Wicked angel. Though, as for someday meeting his maker, he was sure heaven’s gates would be locked and securely bolted against him and all of his kind. “So where did you come from, man. What do you do.” “Basically, I enjoy my life to the fullest. I have my family of friends who surround me with love and devotion. I don’t have a mortal job, nor do I need one. I’ve amassed a great fortune over the centuries. But I sense we will be greeting the sun if we are to discuss my entire life story.” Rico gave Vince a camaraderie slap on the knee. “I like you, Vince. Perhaps you’d come to my home tonight. We already have one thing in common, and after watching you perform, I know there are many other things. Why don’t you come along and check out the recording studio in my home. It’s a marvel, though I myself have no use for it other than occasionally plinking out a tune on the piano. I believe the former owners used to do orchestral recordings before they, um…expired.” “A recording studio. Cool.” Vince looked across the street. Scarlet was nowhere to be

seen. Must have called a cab, or else Anthony was early. His stomach swelled, satisfied with the nameless woman’s life. He nodded. “Yeah, I’d like to check it out.” ***** Scarlet set the diaries on her vanity, and then opened the window, allowing a surprisingly cool breeze into the room, which kissed her cheeks as she sailed into the bathroom. Even after reading of Esmarelda’s deflowering, her thoughts were not long from the debauchery she had witnessed tonight. A flick of the light switch and her image appeared in the mirror, her eyes underlined by darkness, and her hair dripping with sweat and fear. Michele Hauf 42 “Why can I see my reflection.” she whispered, knowing Anthony was about. He hadn’t put a change of sheets on this morning and from the sound of crisp snapping cotton he was doing that now. Quivering like a child lost in the storm, she waited an answer to her helpless question. And then the anger emerged, rage that had built over the past months, rage from what Sebastian had done to her when he took her mortal life away, and the rage over the lack of control over her own life. “Vampires are not supposed to be able to see their reflections!” With a vigorous thrust, her fists smashed the mirror, sending silver fragments and large slivers of glass about the room and floor. Sharp pieces slashed down her fingers and over the tops of her wrists in long, stinging gashes. Scarlet stumbled back to the tub and buried her face in her bleeding hands. It would have been easier if she hadn’t been able to see her reflection.

“Why am I still so human.” If she had been blind to the mirror as fictional vampires were then at least she would be a full-fledged monster, an oddity that had explanation, so different and incapable of human

motions. But as it was, her human nature made it hard to e

accept, to understand what she had witnessed tonight. “What have I done.” She tried to erase the image of Vince holding the dead girl in his arms as he used her in a macabre tool to satisfy his own unholy cravings. He had killed! And he had enjoyed it. And I watched. “If only I weren’t so human,” she started. Then Vince’s crime wouldn’t seem so terrible. Would it. But part of her couldn’t help think maybe it wasn’t. Maybe Vince’s victim had died a pleasant death under the blissful bite of the vampire. Maybe she had wanted to die in his arms as the sucking rhythms seduced her into unconscious dreams of everlasting life entwined in the arms of a handsome stranger. And in turn, her death gave immense pleasure to Vince. “Why must you forbid me to do this, Sebastian.” Scarlet rocked on the edge of the tub. “Is it because you don’t want me to have such pleasure. Am I to be your slave for eternity. Why must you always have control.” Vince’s words teased her mind. You would make such a lovely vampire… She needed comfort. Something to pacify her manic thoughts. “Come home to me, Sebastian.” “Scarlet.” Anthony tapped gently on the bathroom door. “Is everything all right.

Did you drop something.” She exhaled and stared at her bleeding hands. The scent of her own blood did not arouse her as mortal blood did. She examined the silver shards scattered across the vanity and stone floor. “It’s nothing, Anthony.” Anthony peeked inside. “What happened.” When he saw the mess he immediately went to clean it up, the blood not bothering him in the least. It was to be expected from his employers. “Scarlet, there, take that towel and wipe off your hands. Run them under cool water.” Wicked Angels - Sequel to Dark Rapture 43 She did, but it didn’t matter. The wounds had already healed, an intrinsic characteristic of the vampire condition. “I don’t know how to explain it, Anthony. There’s not much I can

ut myself.” She trudged past him, in no mood for mortal company. Right explain abo

now, she needed to lose her thoughts in something other than Vince Lyons. Anthony finished picking up the biggest shards of glass from the floor and swept the smaller glistening slivers into the dustpan while Scarlet sat in the bedroom on the windowsill, watching dark thunderclouds press over the moon. The breeze cooled her face and floated the pink sheers into the room. “I’ll order you a new mirror.” “No,” she said quickly, almost too quickly, for Anthony froze in the bathroom doorway with broom and dustpan in hand. Scarlet shrugged, trying to act as if it was nothing unusual.

“I don’t need it. There’s the mirror in here. I’m just so tired now, Anthony, leave me alone.” Seeing she was in an abnormally discontented state, Anthony flipped the bathroom light off and started out of her room, never being one to question a vampire when he or she was in a foul mood. But he stopped by the door and spoke softly. “You do know it is him who has so little control.” So he had overheard her. “What do you mean.” “I sense your discontent, Scarlet. You live with a man who must constantly know your whereabouts and exercise a certain control that makes you feel lost, not really yourself. While I can’t say I could ever begin to understand the vampire condition, I will tell you that you are not the captive.” She tilted her head, prompting him to go on. “Well…Sebastian is. He is the one who cannot function without you. That is why he keeps such a tight grasp on you.” She had never thought of it that way before. “So you’re saying…” “You are in control, Scarlet. Don’t ever think you are not.” Anthony winked and left her to her brooding. But his words buried deeply into her being. You are in control… Michele Hauf 44 Chapter Seven Spain, 13th century “How is it that you…that you came to…” She didn’t know how to broach the subject. Thankfully Adriano read her mind. “That I came to be a vampyre.” “Were you born that way.”

“Nay.” He laid a hand across her thigh and settled back against the coverlet. A tuft of gray fur flicked across his ear. “I was cursed by a witch.” “A witch! Heaven’s mercy. Adriano, how awful for you.” He gave a subtle nod of his head as if caught up in the torrential memory of his past. “I agree with you. It is dreadful this life I must lead. But I have no choice. Well…I had a choice…of sorts.” “Tell me, husband. Tell me everything so I may better understand you. I want to know you completely. For only than can I serve you as best as I can.” Adriano let out a gentle sigh and smoothed his hand along Esmarelda’s cheek. Like a gentle lamb she nudged her face into his touch, encouraging more if offered. It had been nary a fortnight and she had already fallen deeply into his spell. It mattered not to her that he was a vampire, for she had begun to see past the beast and to the true heart that lay beneath the vicious rumors. “You are too good, lady Esmarelda. God’s tears, I d

o not deserve

you.” She lay down, resting her head in his lap, her silence a plea for his confession. “It was decades ago,” he started. “I was all of seventeen. A feisty young rascal, with eyes only for the ladies and not for the harvest my father tried so desperately to make me participate in. I was enjoying the rites of manhood. I took great pleasure in discovering all there was to this lovely creature called woman. Until I came upon the witch.” His fingers tensed upon her scalp, twisting thick cords of her hair in his grasp. “She came to me disguised as a lovely young woman. I remember distinctly the thick

dark coils of hair that crowned her head and her long white fingers beckoned, and the glint in her dark eyes. I should have known right then,” he said, then paused. “I’ve never seen eyes so dark, so virtually colorless. It is not natural. Even my own eyes of black can still reflect the light. But hers…they did not. Though I thought no more than a few moments on this as I followed her into the shadows. “We kissed and held one another for a time. Time enough to rouse my body so my mind was nearly abandoned. But when I went to take her I saw that she had her cycle. This disturbed me. I did not think it right to take a woman at this time. Regretfully, I refused, saying perhaps we should wait until another day. She flew into a rage. ‘Why is it you cannot stand to have me in your arms.’ she yelled. I didn’t want to explain. I was embarrassed and did not want to offend her. Though it was too late for that. She turned and walked away from me. When she paced back I nearly screamed. Her face had changed. There were distinct lines about her mouth where once smooth skin had been. Her hair had lightened to a dull gray. I knew at once she was a witch.” Esmarelda clutched her husband tightly as she listened to his tale. Wicked Angels - Sequel to Dark Rapture 45 “She started chanting. Saying something I know now to be a curse. She said she would cure me of my distaste for blood. At that very moment I fell to my knees and a piercing streak of white thunder ripped through my body. It was as if my very insides were fighting to take leave of my body. She sauntered over to me and looked over my writhing body as I struggled against this unseeable pain. ‘You like your women, do you my foolish boy. I’ll

see to it you shall suffer all eternity for the love you so desire.’ “She then cursed me with the need for blood, saying I was to become vampyre before the next full moon. I would crave the blood of mortals and need it to sustain my miserable existence. But there was one condition she put on me no other blood drinker carries. I can only drink the blood of women, and first I had to marry them. She, thinking I would not marry for anything but love, so I would know great loss over and over again as my wife dies by my hands. “Ah, but I learned quickly enough. I have not taken a wife in the name of love since the

h of my first wife

deat .” Esmarelda swallowed. He admits he has not loved another to avoid the pains of the witch’s curse. So I am just sustenance to him. “That explains everything,” Esmarelda muttered to herself. “The sun rises soon.” Adriano sat up and eyed his clothes strewn across the bed. He wore a cloak of misery across his shoulders. His sigh hit Esmarelda hard in the heart. “I must bare this curse for eternity.” He clutched Esmarelda’s hand to his chest where she felt the rampant pounding of his life. “You understand now it is not something I purposely sought for myself. I had no desire to ever become vampyre.” “Sí, my husband, I do. It is an ordeal you have to face each day as the sun sets on the horizon. I-I don’t know what to say. I wish to lessen your misery. But know not.” He pulled her hair across his fingers as if fine spun gold examined by a merchant. “You have already brought me the sun. Until the morrow, my lady.” He lifted his things from the floor and dressed quickly as Esmarelda silently watched.

While listening to her husband’s brisk footsteps descend the stairs, she twisted the silver band about her finger. It was not new. In fact, it was quite worn. She noticed there had once been carving on it and now there were only shallow indentations. It had been worn before. Esmarelda’s head spun dizzily from the loss of blood. She was growing weaker. Her muscles were sore each day as she rose from her bed. Her teeth ached when she chewed her meals. And you too shall also be dead. “I love you, Adriano,” she whispered. Her eyelids closed over her teared eyes. Could she die for her love. “Yes,” her whisper slipped between her parched lips. “Before God I vowed to love and honor you. And I will not break my vow. I will die for you, Adriano, if only I may bring your tormented love to my grave.” ***** Los Angeles, present Michele Hauf 46 Rico Bellange’s mansion sprawled across a ten acre lot set at the base of a lush green hill in Brentwood. The area was peopled with old money and nosy neighbors, but Rico had moved in three decades ago, and had established himself early on as a quiet man who wished to be left alone. And so he and his family lived in relative peace. Vince walked the stark white marble floors in awe. His jaw hung slack as his eyes took in the ornate majesty of the place. The furniture was lush and old, which Vince figured to be

from one of those decadent centuries, judging from the ornate rococo woodwork and brilliant damask cushions of deep azure. A winding marble staircase led up to the second floor, most likely where the bedrooms were. On the walls hung paintings and lithographs by Dürè and Mucha. Vince was sure they had to be worth a fortune. And they were all, strangely, of the same subject; angels. So I am a wicked angel, Vince thought with a sly grin. Sounded kind of sexy. Wicked angel. He scanned the grand room, checking the balcony, seeing there were many doors upstairs. He wondered how many other vampires lived here. “There are a few others,” Rico said, seeming to have read Vince’s mind. “You’ll meet them later, I’m sure. They’re most likely hunting this time of night. Come. I’ll show you the recording studio.” Vince followed Rico’s swift footsteps. “So what is this place, sort of a home for wayward vampires.” Rico chuckled.

“I’ve never thought to call it that

before. No, I think of it as a haven, a place for my family to exist and survive without suspicion or inquiry from the mortal world. “ Vince eyed another painting crackled into deep lines around the edges. Traces of dust had settled into the cracks. He dared not touch it for fear of brushing away the fragile paint. “You’re really into this angel thing, aren’t you.” Rico chuckled and stopped beneath the Carravagio Vince examined, which featured a rosy-cheeked cherub. “My tastes are quite eclectic, Vince. I live in heaven and hell at the same time. I’ve surrounded myself with angels and fine things and friends of my nature. This” —

he spread his arms wide to encompass the room— “is my heaven.” Vince looked around again, thinking this luxurious house surely was a heaven on earth. No mortals. No Goths, or vampire-movie fiends in search of the true blood. “And at the same time,” Rico continued. “I live the vampire’s curse. Drinking blood, shunning the ignorance of mortals, and living an eternity without ever knowing my true destiny. This” —his hands clutched tight to his chest— “is my hell. Both of which, you will find, I am quite content with. Come along.” “So it’s only vampires allowed. That’s cool.” “Well…no. You’ll see eventually. We haven’t completely cut ourselves off from the mortal world. Unfortunately we do need them to survive.” Vince followed Rico. Yes, mortal blood. So sweet. Better than any alcoholic drink or drug ever created by the mortals. “Though I am surprised you get along so well in the spotlight, Vince. Does the job pay so well that it’s worth the flirtation with mortals.” Vince strode beneath a sparkling light fixture and jabbed a finger into one of the hanging crystals, causing it to tinkle dully. “Rock n’ roll never pays well, unless you’re one of the heavy hitters. It’s something I love to do. Singing, that is. But I don’t get into Wild Wicked Angels - Sequel to Dark Rapture 47 Child’s music anymore. My life has taken a complete turn around since I’ve become a vampire.” “I understand,” Rico said placing a lit candle in a brass holder on the wall. “Yeah, I think you do.” Vince eyed Rico curiously as the candlelight flickered across his face. He was immediately taken aback at what he saw. Rico noticed his dismay. “My eyes. Most people are surprised or intrigued.” “I didn’t notice before. It was so dark.”

Vince tried not to stare but he was fascinated. Rico’s left eye flashed in gemstone blue, a brilliant azure that defied all depth, while the other was a dead gray. Vince swallowed and looked down at the man’s hands in an attempt to not be rude. The rings on his fingers were all silver, the one with the blue stone almost a matching eye to his colored one. “Whoa.” Vince staggered suddenly. “What’s wrong.” “Sneak attack.” Vince pressed his fingertips to his forehead and squeezed his eyes tightly in an attempt to erase the gaudy images that seeped across his vision. “Ah, it’s nothing.” He pulled his fist across his forehead, smoothing away the visions. His victim’s nightmares had finally come, though they were not as terrible as past experiences.

“Well, it’s

sort of funny actually. I just had this flash. A nightmare.” “Really.” Rico said with an amused gleam. “The girl in the alley.” “Yeah. It’s the most hilarious image. The chick I drained, she was sitting in front of the mirror crying, and there was hair all over the floor, like it had all fallen out or something. Can you believe that!” He chuckled. “A mortal woman’s nightmare. Oh, to have such a hellacious life. I gotta switch my diet from all those groupies, man. It’s just too weird some of the nightmares they have.” “Ha! I’ve had a few of those myself.” Rico spread out his arms to encompass the room. “So what do you think.” Vince scanned the room, finding the studio was equipped with the works. From what he could see of the control room everything was state of the art and digitally mastered. “Man, this is great. Does anyone ever use this stuff.” He reached up and flicked his

finger through the dust that had settled on the microphone. “Well, I surely have no idea how to use any of it.” Rico scanned the assortment of equipment lined along the wall in the control room. “Blake, a friend of mine who lives here, has a band, of which I’m sure will interest you. Though I’m not sure he knows how to operate any of this fancy gadgetry either. Perhaps if you are familiar with the equipment you could help him out. I understand they still need a singer…” Vince nodded as he thought about the possibilities. It would be cool to work with his own kind. Lately Gary was more trouble than he was worth. If it wasn’t for his interest in Scarlet, Vince would probably tell Wild Child to take a hike. Scarlet. What was it about her. Vince knew she loved Sebastian, but—the way she had watched him tonight—she hadn’t been able to look away until his victim had slumped at his feet. She had been intrigued and more than a little curious. “Vince.” “Huh. Sorry, I was just thinking.” “About.” “Um, I was wondering if Scarlet made it home all right.” Michele Hauf 48 “Ah yes, the lovely green-eyed vampiress. You like her. I can tell.” “No, ah, well…yes. But as far as she’s concerned we’re just friends. She’s doing a favor for me. I’ve some diaries written in French she’s reading.” “Really. She speaks French.” “Yeah, she does, very talented chick. I found these diaries in the crypt in the basement of the mansion where I live. The mansion has been in the family for over a century. Anyway, I have a feeling that one of them may have a clue to where I might find my father. I’ve never

met him, you see. Uh…I’m an in-born, my mother was mortal and my father a vampire. I really want to find him, to see what he’s like, see if there are any similarities between us and ask him why he’s stayed away all this time.” “In-born. True blood. How interesting.” Rico touched the edge of a candle, running his fingernail around the soft wax.

is father some day. But hell, it was no rush, he had an Vince nodded. He would find h

eternity to look for him. “Well!” Rico clapped his hands together. His voice was a comforting whisper. “It is getting close to sunrise. You can stay here if you like.” Walls of polished steel reflected the candle flame in fierce waves of oranges and scarlet. As if they gave off a heat of their own, Vince’s body warmed and he relaxed. He was comfortable here. “Yeah, I’d like that.” Scarlet stood in the dining room, lighting the candles queued down the long glossy table. A table never used save for Sebastian spreading his sheet music across it. Certainly they never shared a meal here. Though tonight, she did have plans for consuming elicit delights. She ran a finger around the rim of the crystal bowl filled with red Jell-O. One eccentricity of Sebastian’s that Scarlet adored. He liked the color. He could sit for long minutes toying with the gelatinous substance, watching the light refract and reflect. Then he’d suck it through his teeth like a little kid. She was surprised from behind by Sebastian’s embrace. “And what is this. Preparing a meal.”

“Lover.” She pushed her hands through Sebastian’s hair, kissing him so passionately he stumbled backward and caught himself against the table. “I see you missed me as much as I you, chèrie.” Sebastian ran his hands down Scarlet’s back and cupped her bottom. “I can not stand for one minute to be away from your lips or your bewitching eyes or your delicious soul.” “I’ve got a surprise for you.” “Does it involve you and me and not a single strip of clothing.” “It could.” She reached around him and slipped her fingers into the bowl of cool Jell-O. A square chunk jiggled on her palm as she held it between them. “I made it myself.” “Chèrie, such a domestic vixen you’ve become. And tempting me with the food of the gods.” He pulled her hand up to his mouth and sucked the squishy red glob between his lips. Scarlet giggled, dropping the gelatin on the floor. “You’re tickling me!” Wicked Angels - Sequel to Dark Rapture 49 Suddenly his smile disappeared and he was all seriousness. “You dropped the sacred food of the gods, woman. You are aware of what happens to those who blaspheme the Jell-O gods.” He reached back and produced his own handful of

dessert.

It was too hard to keep a straight face. Scarlet let loose her laughter as she tried to fend off Sebastian’s approach. His jaw was set, his hand full of Jell-O, and his mouth desperately trying to hold a straight line. “Torture to those who would desanctify this most holy substance!” The two of them tumbled to the floor amidst a spew of flying red gelatin. A flick of Sebastian’s fingers released the glass buttons on her silk shirt. A shiver ran over

Scarlet’s breasts as her body was exposed. Cool slime slipped and oozed between his hand and her breasts as he began to paint her flesh. “I am guilty. Torture me as you see fit. But please, please don’t eat the Jell-O!” He pulled back, his dark eyes dancing. A wodge of gelatin clung to his hair. “Don’t eat it, eh. The woman is afraid of this foul torture.” “Oh, yes, monsieur. Please have mercy on me. Anything but that!” “You have committed a most heinous crime. I am sorry but you must be punished to the furthest extent of the law!” Thrilled she would receive the maximum punishment, Scarlet guided her torturer from one breast to the other. Sebastian’s tongue lapped greedily, nipping and sucking and bringing her to the edge of release. She wasn’t sure if it was the Frenchman in him, or just his centuries of life experience, but the man had a way of igniting every nerve ending with a delicious fire. Candleglow glinted in Sebastian’s dark hair, and changed little chunks of stray Jell-O into precious rubies. The room smelled of cherries and spice, and the need for fulfillment. Her fingers stained red with cherry flavored gelatin, Scarlet touched them to Sebastian’s lips. He sucked languorously as she shimmied her torso close to his until she was able to wrap her legs about his hips “I see the woman succumbs to torture well,” he whispered in a mock devilish voice. “Could it be she will now cooperate.” Scarlet reached down and pulled the top button on Sebastian’s jeans open. “If that is what I must do.” He was hot and hard in her hand. “Than I suppose I have no choice.” Michele Hauf 50

Chapter Eight Spain, 13th century The ascent from the bowels of the castle seemed to become shorter and shorter as the days passed. Leaving his wooden coffin behind in the darkened recesses of the castle, Adriano sprung up the hundreds of narrow steps en route for the tower room where his beloved waited his touch. But would she suffice with only his touch. What about the kiss she craved so dearly and had begged so innocently for him to grant her. A kiss. The single most passionate act of love. An act Adriano had foresworn decades earlier.

For with the

kiss came his downfall. Love. But oh, the temptation Esmarelda’s rose-petal lips offered! He pushed her chamber door wide and burst into the room only to find no one standing there with open arms. “Esmarelda.” He knew immediately. The garden. That was the one refuge she retreated to when he was not around. Paquita would not allow her to do chores or begin a routine as chatelaine. Adriano knew why. Paquita had never let any of his previous wives do the same. She knew as well as he it would not do to start something that would only last a mere month or so. What was it about this woman that captured his heart so. A heart hardened with rusting armor. Was it because she may have finally, after all these decades, discovered that there is a man behind the monster. A true man who was once mortal and had

feelings like all others. “Ah, Esmarelda. If only I knew what it was, deep inside, that warms my soul in such a way I wish always to be with you. To touch your soft skin and to smooth my hands along your silken hair. Could it be.” Adriano’s shoulder jarred against the castle wall as he fell against it. He pressed his hand over his heart. Love. “Impossible,” he whispered. “I vowed years ago I would never allow a woman into my heart again. For I can not bare to watch a loved one die by my own hands.” He stepped quickly down the spiraling stairs, his suede boots scruffing across the stones in echoing spurts. But he could not dispel the uneasy quavering that resounded inside his chest. A feeling not all together unlikeable. In fact, it even felt good. You must ask him. You need to know. Esmarelda twisted the band about her finger, wondering for perhaps the thousandth time today just how many women before her had worn it. She knew in her heart it was not jealousy that prompted her uneasiness. No, it was a partial fear, a sadness for the victims of Adriano’s unfortunate curse. How many times had he been forced to watch his wife die. Of course, he had said he did not feel anything toward any of them. He had steeled himself to think of them only as Wicked Angels - Sequel to Dark Rapture 51 sustenance. Food. But if so, did he not feel anything toward her. He had to. Her gut instinct told her he did. For if he did not, how could he be so loving in their bed chamber.

A wave of sulfur whispered past Esmarelda’s nose as the garden torch was tormented by the increasing wind. She was the only one sitting in the garden this evening. She had come to notice that most of the castle inhabitants kept inside during the hours of the evening when the sky was at its darkest. They were all simply afraid. So why did they remain. Why did they not leave the castle and venture out on their own. It wasn’t as if there wasn’t enough of them to start up their own village. Paquita was constantly putting her master down. But she never once mentioned leaving. Did he have a

held them enchant

hold over them. Some power that ed in his grasp. Did he have the same hold over her. Is he making me fall in love with him. No. He had told her love would only complicate things. Perhaps he hadn’t any powers beyond the few simple tricks he had shown her. But that still did not explain why the castle inhabitants remained. A dark shadow crossed over her face, startling her. “Adriano.” “Forgive me, my lady. It looks as if I’ve pulled you from heavy thoughts.” “Oh, well…” Could he know. Esmarelda plunged into her husband’s arms. His touch was cool, though a comfort. The feel of his strong embrace, a seductive temptation. “Is something amiss, my lady.” He tilted her chin up. Esmarelda gazed into his eyes, red with the torch’s fire, hot with desire and the need to be satiated by her blood. “Nay, er… I have been thinking. It is terrible really.” “What is it.” He gestured toward the stone bench and they both sat. Esmarelda smoothed her black skirts out over her legs as a means of preoccupying her worried thoughts. She turned her forefinger in the thick gold link of the chain that hung loosely about her hips. Could she ask him. It wasn’t really her concern. What the husband had done

before she came into the marriage was not her business. Her wifely duties included the here and now and the future… A future that was to be cut short. “Adriano,” she burst out. “How many…I mean…am I the—” She could not help but twist the silver band on her finger. It had developed into an unconscious yet vexing habit. “What I mean is…” “You wish to know how many others there were.” He nodded and looked to the ground, seeming to know this question would arise sooner or later. As Esmarelda took his hand he said in his deep voice, so low she barely heard. “You are the forty-third. They have never lasted longer than a month, maybe two if they are strong. But you are different…” he said suddenly. He gazed upon her face, lit warmly by the torch. “I shall be very sad when you die.” ***** Scarlet jerked herself awake from the gentle sleep she’d dozed into. Gentle, yet strangely visited by dreams that featured two very familiar people. Michele Hauf 52 “Oh, my god.” She pushed up on the velvet settee where she’d fallen asleep while browsing through the new diary Vince had given her. The leather book lay flat on her stomach, closed. She traced her fingers over it. “Forty three wives before Esmarelda. But…I didn’t read that. Did I.” She carefully opened the diary and fingered the yellowing page as she mouthed the French-written script. “I shall be very sad when you die.” Quickly she thumbed back a few pages. “This is where I last finished reading.

But how could I have dreamed the exact words that are in here.” A sudden clicking against the windowpane had Scarlet on her feet in seconds. It was only a raven perched outside, tapping at stray seeds tossed about by the wind. The bird took flight as Scarlet started toward the window. The leather diary was cool and musty, yet it burned like fire in her hands. “I dreamed the next part of the diary,” she

said incredulously.

“How did I do that.” “Chèrie.” “Sebastian.” Scarlet hugged the diary to her breast. “I didn’t notice you come in.” “Of course not, you’re breathing the life out of that damned book.” Had he woke up on the wrong side of the coffin this afternoon, or what. “What’s your problem. You seemed in a good mood earlier,” she said, noticing with a fleeting memory of their early morning encounter the faintest whiff of cherry Jell-O still clung to her hair. Sebastian sighed. He looked disheveled and worn in the soft flannel shirt he wore. He much preferred silk and velvet to flannel, but he donned it occasionally when working. “I’m sorry chèrie.” He blew out a shivering breath and raked his fingers through his hair, exposing one narrow gold hoop earring. “I have a feeling it’s going to be a very long night in the studio. I’m practicing for tomorrow night’s benefit concert. You will come, won’t you.” “I promised Vince I would do this for him, but that won’t keep me from seeing you perform. Actually, something very strange just happened.” “Really.” “Sebastian, you won’t believe this, but I just dreamed the diary. I fell asleep for a little

while and when I woke I had dreamed the next section of the diary I hadn’t yet read.” “Are you sure.” He sat next to her, his back facing her and shrugged his shoulders. A subtle hint. “Perhaps you did read it and merely were reliving it in your mind.” “No, I know I didn’t.” “But why would that happen. For what purpose.” “I don’t know.” She kneaded down along his spine, planting delicate kisses into the heat of his neck. “But I feel as if...well...as if someone wants me to know these things. I have this feeling I’m getting somewhere with this diary, Sebastian. Not that I’ve learned much in ways of the vampire, but I feel connected somehow. Like this is the path I seek.” His sigh reduced her joy to a gentle sadness. “I’m sorry, Sebastian. You can’t worry about this. I love you.” She kissed his jaw, smooth of stubble and walked around in front of him. “So how are things coming with your album.” “We’re just getting started. I’ll be laying down the tracks to Moonlight Fantasy tonight before rehearsal.” Wicked Angels - Sequel to Dark Rapture 53 “Moonlight Fantasy. Mmm, sounds like you.” She traced his lips with her finger. “You’re tall, dark, mysterious…every woman’s fantasy.” “Really.” He drew her hand back to his lips, kissing her knuckles as he measured her reaction. “Am I your fantasy.” Scarlet closed her eyes. An unexpected flash of naked flesh and golden hair sent a chill down her spine. “Yes,” she faltered, “…you are.” She pressed her palm to the warm flannel over Sebastian’s heart, hoping he would not sense her distraction. Why the hell had Vince’s image come to mind. “Are you going to be around the castle today, or are you going over to Gary’s

.” Glad he had changed the subject, she slipped her arms around his again

neck and kissed the minute shadow forming above his lip. “I think I’ll lounge around and read for a while, maybe help Anthony in the rose garden. It’s starting to shape up nicely since he’s been working on it. I’m so glad we hired a green thumb.” She pressed her body against his. Sebastian moaned his desire. “Yes, it will be nice when the yews have grown tall enough and the maze is well-shaped for moonlight strolls, eh.” A hopeless romantic. Sebastian DelaCourte, possessed of an eighteenth century mind, living in the body of a twentieth century rock star. “That would be nice.” The artificial sound of the telephone jarred them both and Sebastian nodded swiftly as he backed out of the room. “That’s probably the studio. Tell them I’m on my way, chère. Au revoir.” He blew her a kiss and disappeared. Scarlet picked up the phone on the third ring. “Yes.” “So did you guys talk the other night.” “Gary.” She twisted the cord around her finger and fell back into the damask pillows tossed across the settee. “Hello to you, too. How was your night. Or dare I ask.” There was a pause. “I really like this chick, Scarlet. She’s different from the rest, not so concerned with what I do for a living as what I do to live. I think I’m gonna start seeing her more often.” “Gary, that’s great! I’m happy for you. What’s her name.” “Lisa. But what about you and Vince, did you have a chance to talk to him.” “Mmm, yes.” “So.” Suddenly, Scarlet felt more like a spy sent behind enemy lines than Vince’s friend. She was amazed that Gary was so perseverant of his friend’s new habits. He and Vince were best

friends. Couldn’t he accept him for what he was and get on with things. “Gary, how do you expect Vince to act. Like you. He’s not like you anymore. And neither am I.” “And what is that supposed to mean.” “It means…just lay off Vince, all right. He’s fine.” There was a rustle on the other end of the line and Scarlet knew Gary chawed his gum top speed. A sure sign he was pissed off. “You call killing innocent people fine.” “He’s a vampire, Gary! That’s what vampires do. They drink blood.” “But they don’t have to kill. Baz told me.” Michele Hauf 54 “Just lay off the vampire crap, will you. I’m in no mood.” She rubbed a finger across her pounding temple. Why was she defending Vince. “What’s happening to you, Scarlet. Did Vince do or say something to you last night. All of a sudden you seem to be taking his side instead of mine.” “Gary, I’m not taking anybody’s side. Vince…is a good guy. I wish you could see beyond your own fears.” It was forever before Scarlet heard Gary swallow his gum and finally speak in the meekest of tones. “Would you kill, Scarlet. Like Vince.” “No.” She clenched her fist. “But the fact you asked really pisses me off.” “So after talking to Vince for a few minutes after a concert you d

ecide

everything about him is cool. I know better, Scarlet. I’ve been on the road with him and I’m telling you, Vince is one severely fucked up guy. Can’t you see. Or are you as blind to his good looks and rock n’ roll hair as all the rest of the women.” “Give me a little credit, Gary.”

“I’m sorry.” His sigh traveled the phone line. “I shouldn’t be doing this. Ah, I’m all riled up since Vince called earlier. He’s met this

Rico guy. He’s

not gonna be here tonight to go over the tapes, which is imperative. Man, I don’t know, lately I think Vince is more trouble than he’s worth.” Scarlet ignored her brother’s whining. “So who is this Rico.” “I don’t know, I guess he lives in an elaborate mansion. Vince says he feels close to him, as if he was a brother or something. Do you get that. All of a sudden Gary Rose does not exist anymore. Our ten years of friendship has been completely wiped away thanks to some guy he met in some alley. I tell ya, Scarlet—and don’t say anything to Vince— but I’m seriously thinking about asking him to leave Wild Child.” “Gary!” “Don’t say a word to anybody. I said, I’m just thinking about it. But if Vince keeps pullin’ crap like this I don’t know what I’ll end up doing. Whenever we’ve got work to do he’s out carousing around. Hell, it’s not like he’s never thought about leaving. He’s made threats about it before. Wait. There’s my call waiting. It might be Lisa. You gonna come over.” “I was thinking about coming by later, but if you’re going to be busy—” “No, I can’t do anything without Vince, he has to go over the voice tracks. Come on over. I gotta go. See ya later.” Scarlet clicked the receiver but her hand barely left the phone before it rang again. “Yes.” The voice was deep and husky, almost lewd. “Are you frightened of me now.” Thinking it an obscene call at first, Scarlet was ready to slam the phone down, but she

quickly realized it was Vince. Her heart plunged to her throat as anticipation jittered through her body. “Vince. No, of course…not. Why—” “Have I peaked your curiosity.” Scarlet’s brows grew tight. He spoke about last night. “About killing. Vince, you’ve got to be kidding.” “Is Sebastian around.” “No, but—” “Come to me, Scarlet. Bring the diaries along and read to me. Please.” Wicked Angels - Sequel to Dark Rapture 55 She toggled a fingernail across the top of the diary. He didn’t want to hear her read the diary, she knew that from the daring tone of his voice. No, he wanted to entice her into his world, a world she had been forbidden to explore. Scarlet stood and studied her face in the mirror. The remains of her mortal innocence were still there. Somewhere. “I don’t think so Vince. Not…yet.”

Michele Hauf 56 Chapter Nine Spain, 13th century Another week passed. Since arriving at the castle, the moon had reached its fullness twice. Esmarelda waited upon the crimson coverlet for Adriano to arrive. She normally waited by the door with arms open to embrace him, but lately it was all she could do to rise from the bed and use the chamber pot, let alone stand long enough to allow her maid to dress

her. Her end was near. So very near she felt sure death whispered just on the other side of her door. A cold and haunting whisper, shallow, yet deep

with the

centuries of lost souls entwined about its vocal cords. When she looked up she knew it was only Adriano who whispered at her door. Death used him as its disguise. “Take me as you will, beloved husband,” she offered weakly as he began to strip the clothes from his lanky frame. He flipped the flowing veil of blackness over his shoulders and she wished she had the strength to reach out and pull its softness to her face so she could nuzzle into it. “I am too weak to do much for you myself.” As Adriano lowered over her she thought she saw a tear in the corner of his eye. Maybe. “You give me life, and in turn sacrifice your own with so little question,” he said. “For this I shall be forever grateful.” He did not part her legs and take her as he so desired. She was too weak. Instead he bit carefully into her flesh and drew into his body the elixir he needed. And when he was finished and sated for the night, Adriano sat back and looked upon the pale angel that lay dying beneath the crimson velvet. Her hands lay like dove feathers, so colorless and graceful. So precious her lips were. Pale as a life-drained rose. He wanted to kneel down, to kiss her, to give of himself totally. To grant her the simple kiss she so often requested. She had slipped into the swoon that always followed his extractions, but something struggled to remain. Her eyelids moved minutely. She struggled to pull

herself from sleep. “Do you love me.” she whispered, her eyes still closed, though one dove-winged hand now reached blindly for him. It was as if an explosion detonated inside his chest. Tears rolled down from the darkness of Adriano’s eyes and he pressed his forehead to his lover’s breast. “Sí…” he sobbed. “I do. I confess I cannot help myself. I have loved no other as I do you, Esmarelda. God have mercy, I shall suffer for this throughout eternity. Why. Why could I not prevent it.” Esmarelda pressed a palm to the back of his head and smiled, just slightly. “You truly love me.” “With all my heart,” he pleaded into her breast. “I thought it never possible for a beast such as myself. But my heart…it aches so when I am away from you. As soon as my feet take leave of this room I wish only to turn and run back into your arms. Oh, Esmarelda, what have I done.” “Listen to me, my beloved. I am weak and so near death.” Wicked Angels - Sequel to Dark Rapture 57 “What is it. If there is anything I can do to make it easier for you you must allow me.” “I will die soon,” she whispered. “But…I have been thinking…perhaps…maybe, if you were to not come for a few days…I would have sufficient time to recover your deadly kiss.” Adriano jerked his head up. The deadly kiss of the vampyre. The only kiss he had ever granted her. “Perhaps two or three nights,” she continued. “I feel sure I might gain the strength I need to persevere this curse you bare. For I bare this curse also and I am proud to call myself

Trastamara. Plea

your wife. I love you, Adriano de se, if you love me, grant me this one chance to prolong my life.” “Anything that may extend your life so we may enjoy our love for another a bit longer.” “You’ll do it.” “I must. If…if I can.” He stood and pulled his clothes quickly over his bloodwarmed body, shaking his fingers back through his sweat-tangled hair. He made to leave but paused in the doorway. “I shall stay away for two nights. By the saints, I promise you my heart wants this. But you must know my body will fight it with a strength even my heart may not stand up to.” “You must try.” “Very well. But you must do one thing for me. If you can.” “What is that.” “Bar the door and do not open it for me. I shall be mad for your blood and will not be in control of myself. No matter what I say to you do not open the door. For without your permission I cannot cross this threshold.” ***** Los Angeles, present Vince slid off the cool satin sheets, watching as the tree shadows danced as macabre stick figures over the English-papered wall across from him. Another angel print hung in his room, this one very disturbing. Its wings were pointed like a bat’s, and it shielded its eyes with the sharpened tips as it was cast from the gleaming lights of heaven. Had he ever had a chance at heaven before he had become a vampire. Probably. But it was too late now. With a jerk of his hand to disregard the spooky drawing, he stood and looked out

the window. The sky darkened into a lucid sheet of gray and the whistling wind cued Vince it would soon rain. The California fall was soon coming. He still wore the same clothes he’d worn for the gig last night. He smelled of sweat and there were traces of dried blood along his shirt front. Remembering Rico’s offer of hospitality, he checked the closet, finding it stocked with rich shirts and jackets of silk and velvet. Pleased, he chose a white ruffled poet’s shirt and black velvet jacket, keeping his fringed pants on since there were no blood stains on them. Knowing he had stumbled onto something good—the friendship of another vampire who seemed quite eager to offer all he had—Vince’s long strides took him down the marble stairs in search of his generous host. The mansion rumbled as the weather increased to a fury. He had no lighter and could barely see, but his senses remembered the way. As he strode down the darkness of the inner Michele Hauf 58 hallway the sensations of comfort, acceptance, and concern fell over him. It was as though this was his home. He belonged here. With friends and family—a family of vampires. A deep whisper enticed him to the left and he entered the recording studio that glowed softly from the candelabra perched atop the piano. Rico’s voice captured the music of silence, deep-felt emotions, of a certain sadness. There hung a lithograph of a woman swathed in sheer flowing pink fabric over the piano that Vince hadn’t noticed earlier this morning. She seemed happy, maybe dancing, as

ack over her shoulder and her arms swayed out before her. But there was her head tilted b

something in her eyes, a lost sadness. He plopped down on the couch and stretched his legs across the polished coffee table. A crystal sculpture sat on the mahogany table, a triangle that glimmered in golds and reds from the candle flame. “I like that.” Federico’s fingers continued their dirge-like walk across the bass piano keys. “I see you’ve found some clothes.” “You don’t mind.” “Not at all. They fit you well. Black is a violent contrast to your hair and your pale complexion. I like contrasts.” Rico’s fingers dashed to the right of the keyboard in a frenzy of chromatic changes. “Did you write that.” Rico’s resumed his lethargic pace, as if the funeral requiem of a lost love coaxed him further. “No…it was…written by a lady.” He looked up at the dancing girl. “Someone I love very intensely.” His words melded into the deep melody and Rico seemed to slip into recollection as his eyelids closed over his mismatched eyes. Vince leaned forward, catching his elbows on his knees, but silenced his eager questions as Rico began again in a dreamy deep memory. “My sister…she wrote this. It’s been very long. My heart carries her absence from moon to moon, year to year, century to century.” “I’m sorry,” Vince offered softly. Rico nodded, though his concentration had returned to the piano keys. Vince sank into the couch cushions and closed his eyes as Rico’s playing matched the thunder outside. For the moment, he felt the sadness of Rico’s loss, and remembered the grief

he had felt over his mother’s death a year ago. Vince snapped his arms to his chest, clutching tight the memories that threatened to tear his eyes. You are no longer alone. You have Rico now. “So…this place is fabulous. You must have been collecting stuff for years.” “More like centuries,” Rico said. “Really. When were you transformed.” “1778. I lived in Italy at the time. My sister and I had a palazzo in Venice. That was the year of the great blizzard. The lagoon froze completely over and great fêtes were held on the ice.” “Wow.” The man was over two centuries old, yet he looked no older than thirty. Respect was the first thing Vince felt, curiosity the next. “So how come you came to America. I imagine Venice is a pretty funky place to live. I’ve always thought it would be cool to ride in a gondola.” “I would go anywhere Catrina asked.” Wicked Angels - Sequel to Dark Rapture 59 “Your sister.” “Yes.” Vince detected Rico’s reluctance to elaborate and feigned discretion. Though he was itching to ask. Was she the woman in the picture. “So, Vince.” The music stopped and Rico swung one leg over the piano bench, fixing

“Do you always ta

his gray and blue on him. ke your victims in such a manner.” Confused at this abrupt conversation change, Vince suddenly remembered the girl in the alley last night. “What do you mean. I got the feeling you killed, too.” “I do, but what I mean is, you took that girl so gently. You walked up to her the knight in shining armor, the man of her dreams, and…kissed her. She wanted you. You

let her live the fantasy that you did too. There was no fear. “ Rico leant forward, his eyes ablaze with a knowledge of dark riches. “You’ve never experienced the rush, have you.” “The rush. You mean of the kill.” Vince recalled his description of the unholy rapture to Scarlet last night. “Of course, there’s nothing greater. When the heart bursts— Wham!” He smacked a fist into his palm. “But what more could there possibly be.” Rico inched to the edge of the glossy bench and placed a finger in the air before him. “The fear Vince, that is what’s more. Do you know what happens when a person is afraid.” “Well—” “Their heart pumps at a rapid pace while the adrenaline in their body rises to an unfathomable level. If you’ve never taken in fear then you’ve never tasted blood laced with adrenaline. It’s incredible,” Rico said in a rapid hush. “Sounds is if you’re talking about a drug.” “It is!” He was indeed a man of contrast, as Rico’s attitude switched from melancholy to wicked delight. “And I am an addict, I can most freely admit. You must try it, Vince. It’s no different from the way you already do it, except after I’ve taken my mortal pleasures—like the enjoyment of the flesh—I then let my victims know exactly what kind of immortal creature they are dealing with. My fangs lower before their widening eyes, I brace myself for the scream,” his voice grew sharp, “and then I mainline on adrenaline.” The intensity of Rico’s colored eye increased to fathomless, unreal color as he spoke enthusiastically of his passions, sweeping Vince into the thrill of the immortal pleasures he had yet to discover. “You’ll try it, won’t you.” Vince sucked the corner of his lip in as he thought about it. Rico had this way about him that seemed to entice him closer. He wanted this man to accept him and to

not question him as Gary so often did. Hell, he needed to be accepted by someone; loner was not his

”

middle name. “I’ll try anything once.

***** “Anthony, I’m going to need a broom!” Scarlet called down the hallway then rushed back to the broken glass on her bedroom floor. Michele Hauf 60 Her fitting for the flamenco dress had just finished. She had needed a few tucks taken in the waistline. In a rush to get the heavy dress off she had carelessly tossed it to the bed, knocking the silver picture frame from the bedside stand to land in a crash on the stone floor. “Sebastian loves this picture.” She fished the torn photo from the sharp glass. It had been taken a few months ago by a professional photographer after an interview Sebastian had done with Rolling Stone magazine. Scarlet loved the picture, too. It was such a natural pose, with her leaning back into Sebastian’s arms, smiles on their faces and the green backdrop

accenting her eyes. She remembered feeling truly lost that day. Lost in the incredible rush of love and trust she held for Sebastian. The broken glass had cut the picture down the middle, separating their embrace with a jagged edge. Scarlet swallowed. “Good thing he doesn’t believe in omens.” She wondered then, if maybe she did. A twinge of guilt surfaced as Vince’s face appeared in her mind. He stood silhouetted in the alleyway, his hair blowing about his face, as he gestured for her to come to him. “He wants more,” Scarlet whispered and clutched the torn picture to her chest. “I should never have followed him.” The glass lay glimmering in the candlelight, its flash catching Scarlet’s eye. She leaned to the side and found her silvery reflection frowning up at her. “What are you afraid of.” she asked her silent double. “Becoming the true vampire Vince speaks of.” Maybe he was right. Was Sebastian really the monster and Vince a true representative of her species. “There is more. Adriano had powers. Though how Esmarelda is going to keep him away for two nights…” she whispered as she ran her finger along the edge of the glass, erasing her reflection. The sharp edge cut slowly, opening flesh to release a brilliant red stream that quickly ran down to her wrist. Scarlet rubbed the slippery elixir between her fingers. This precious liquid, so abundant in its supply, was her life. It nourished and maintained, satisfied and satiated. Without it there was no life. Everything ceased. But where were the answers. In the diary, or walking around in the body of a blonde rock singer.

“I will find out,” she said, touching her blood-stained fingers to her mouth. Wicked Angels - Sequel to Dark Rapture 61 Chapter Ten Spain, 13th century

open this door! I

“Insufferable wench! I command you to am your lord husband!” Esmarelda sank back against the bed frame, pulling her legs up to her chest. Her fingers worked nervously with the gauze nightrobe puddled across her toes as she listened to the raging growls from the other side of the door. The door timbers shook and splintered with each pound of his fist, but they did not give. Thank the Lord for the iron brackets that bound them together. He was making enough noise to wake the dead. The entire castle could hear him, she was sure. But Esmarelda knew she would get no help from the castle inhabitants. They feared their master’s wrath far more than she did. It was torturous to sit and listen to Adriano’s burning pleas. He needed her! He needed her blood. Sustenance that was food to him as bread and wine were sustenance to her. And she was starving him! “Adriano!” Esmarelda crawled forward on her hands and knees. She was still so weak, though after a light meal this evening she had been able to sit up in bed and slide to the edge for the chamber pot. “I need you! You must not betray your husband!” Esmarelda reached up and touched the cold iron that supported the thick wooden bar across her door. Could he not command the bar to rise with his mind. She knew that he could. He’d once redirected a falling trestle table so it would not crush her toes.

Her husband’s miserable moans entered her blood and chilled it solid. Do not open the door for any means. No matter what I should say. Warning words spoken out of love for her. “Nay.” She slunk back toward the bed. Adriano’s demands were unceasing in her havoced mind. He needed her permission. That was the key. “May the Lord grant me strength. I do this for both of us, dear husband.” ***** Los Angeles, present Rico picked up the telephone receiver and nodded to Vince as he came in the front door. “I’ll be right there. Go along with Blake and pick up some wine on the way, will you.” Blake, who stood beneath the Carravaggio in the grandroom, nodded and Vince followed the thin black-clad young man. Black seemed to be the dress code around here. Blake’s gleaming hair blended into the black velvet coat he wore, catching like blue fire in glints of candle glow as he followed him down the hallway. “Rowdy went down to the wine cellar earlier,” Blake called back. “Grabbed a couple bottles of the good stuff. Rico’s own private label. So you like redheads.” He peered back over his shoulder to gauge Vince’s reaction. “As long as they’re halfway good looking and don’t talk much, I do.” Michele Hauf 62 Blake snickered. “I like you, man. We think the same. Women should be seen and touched, but never heard. So what do you think of Rico.” They passed the studio and stopped by another door just down the hall. Blake

stared out of eyes lined in black pencil. “He’s cool.” Vince leant against the door, thinking the black eyeliner was a nice touch, it made the man’s deep brown eyes bigger and a bit sinister and took attention away from his wide nose. “You can’t imagine what it’s like to finally find friends who understand me. I never thought I’d find another vampire let alone a whole family of them

.

Rico tells me you’re trying to put a band together. What kind of music do you play.” Blake shrugged and shoved his hands in his pants pockets. “Gothic rock with a touch of Emo. Sensual, evil, trance-like stuff. Kind of on the lines of Crypt Whisper and Nightfall. Like the stuff you hear at the Decadence. But we could use a singer. I’d never venture to attempt singing. I’ll stick with the bass.” “I’d like to hear you guys play. Maybe I could jam with you. What do you call yourselves.” “We’re still vacillating on that. I like One Blood and Bone Dance. Rico thinks we should call ourselves Wicked Angel, which is cool, too. What do you think.” Vince stuck his thumbs in his pants pockets. “I’m partial to Wicked Angel, myself. Rico’s whole theory on the vampire is pretty wild, but it sorta grows on you after a while.” “Yeah, that’s probably what we’ll end up with. But we do have one rule.” “No mortals.” Vince guessed. “You got it.” Blake fished a key out of his pocket and shoved it in the doorknob. “Were you a vampire when Rico met you.” Vince leant against the wall, pressing the back of his head against it. Directly across from him hung a metallic blue angel, this one the modern poster version once used for a Led Zeppelin concert.

“No, Rico transformed me about a month after we met, which was over a decade ago. I don’t regret it for a minute.” Blake jerked a nod toward the grand room. “Hell, look at Rico, he hasn’t aged in over two centuries, he’s rich, and he can have any woman he wants anytime. Not that he does…but what more could I ask for except knowing this will last forever. Immortality! It’s great.” “Yeah.” Vince toed a seam between the red-stone tiles of the floor. “You ready for a little decadence, Vince.” Rico, seeming to appear from nowhere, joined the men and opened the door. “Lead the way, man.” Blake filed ahead of Rico and Vince followed, stunned at what lay before him. The opulence of the mansion was nothing compared to this room. The walls were lined from floor to ceiling with red-striped satin and billowing sheers of black. All the metal work and tables were edged in ornate gold which lended a rococo flair. Divans and plump sofas of red and black velvet surrounded the room on two sides, leaving the other two sides for the stereo equipment. One complete wall boasted shiny black equipment: stereos, bigscreened TV, VCR’s and computers. It was Ali-Baba’s harem meets cyberpunk as red neon slashes flickered above the electrical complex and the candelabras simmered quietly upon the flesh of four very lovely women perched upon the sofas. Wicked Angels - Sequel to Dark Rapture 63 “You like it.” Rico draped an arm over a giggling woman who was noticeably drunk as she swayed against him. “Blake is my technical consultant. He helped me choose all the electronics, since I myself, have no patience for such advanced gadgetry.”

Vince accepted a glass of wine from a smiling redhead whose eyes danced merrily as she ran her tongue teasingly across her bottom lip. She trailed a finger along his arm and he pulled her closer.

nned the

“This is incredible, Rico.” Vince sipped the wine and sca

room again, seeing in the corner another man who sat with a woman on his lap. “In-fucking-credible.” Rico raised his glass, prompting the others to do so. “A toast! To the newest member of the family. Vince Lyons!” “To Vince!” Blake repeated. Rowdy, the man in the corner, slugged his wine down in one gulp, tossed a head of tight brown curls over his shoulder, and focused his attention on the cooing woman in his arms who was naked to the waist but not a bit prudish. “Welcome to our nightmare, Vince.” An evil grin slipped across his face as he bent to lick the woman’s breasts. “You’re quite the singer from what I’ve heard.” “Thanks, man. You play in Blake’s band, too.” Rowdy shrugged and squeezed a handful of flesh, causing the woman to moan and squirm closer to him. “Hell no, I’ve got my hands too full of other things.” “Our resident Casanova,” Rico said with a wry smile and a quick bow to Rowdy. “A little mood music perhaps.” Blake jumped over to the stereo and inserted Crypt Whisper’s CD. Moaning guitars and haunting lyrics filled the room. “Sit.” Rico pointed to the red divan and his woman obediently sat. She offered her hand and Rico sat next to her, pushing her hair from her neck and burrowing against her flesh amidst a shudder of delicate giggles. Vince stood in amazement as he sipped the wine and absently fingered the ends

of the redhead’s hair. The wine was smooth and cold. The fragrance of deep black grapes burst from the glass; it was impossible to think it was anything less than the god’s mead. With encouragement from his partner, he relaxed into the overstuffed couch behind him, finding the red head had no mind to detach herself from him. In fact, she had already unbuttoned his shirt and her warm tongue now played across his chest, finding the few blonde hairs that circled his nipples. Slipping his fingers into her hair, Vince relaxed and closed his eyes. The thunder of drums pounded inside his veins as the music drowned out the visual opulence and the shimmering effects the wine was having, and it shrouded the exaggerated moans that emanated from Rowdy’s chair. The chick in Vince’s arms smelled of musk and cigarette smoke. She wasn’t Scarlet, but right now he couldn’t complain. He slugged the rest of his wine down and pressed against the back of the girl’s head, prompting her to nip at his nipples. “Vince.” Vince peeked out of one eye. Rico had removed his coat and sat like a king on his throne. His slave girl bent to her knees and pressed her palm to the swell rising in the crotch of his black velvet pants. But he caught her wrist in a movement so fast Vince flinched. Michele Hauf 64 “Now,” Rico said to Vince. “For your initiation. Get the lights, will you.” He nodded toward the door. With a strange sense of what was to come, Vince swallowed and stood, bringing

the redhead with him as she continued to grope and kiss him on his chest and neck. Something simmered inside. He was nervous. He had never employed the methods used for obtaining the rush Rico had raved about. To kill in fear. With a flick of Rico’s hand the neon flashed out, leaving only two black tapers glowing on the wall above the couch where Vince had been sitting. He set his empty wine glass on a gold-trimmed table and clutched the redhead, pushing his palm through her hair until he found the pulse pounding sluggishly on her neck.

He wondered what her name was but then figured it wouldn’t be such a good idea to know. He never learned his victim’s names. It kept things much simpler. She had no idea what was to come. She didn’t know she would not leave this room alive tonight. As far as he was concerned, her name was supper. “Kiss me,” she pleaded. Vince did, though his attention remained focused on Rico. Blake looked up from the arms of his lady, his dark, penciled eyes flashing like a cougar peering out from jungle cover. The perfumed panther. He too looked to Rico, awaiting the master’s command. Rowdy paid no attention as he stripped the woman in his arms of her dress, though Vince was sure he was also waiting for a signal of sorts because he had yet to partake of her blood. “Remember, Vince…” Rico lifted the woman’s head from his lap and smoothed his thumb over her parted lips, producing a whimper of desire from her. “Fear.” The jewel-eyed vampire turned back to his supplicant, pressing both palms to her

cheeks. “Look at me,” he whispered and all female eyes, including Vince’s redhead, turned, mesmerized by Rico’s regal actions. Rico cooed and whispered softly, hypnotizing all into his web of dark seduction. Vince’s heart pounded madly. He pushed away a webbing of red hair that glowed like savage fire in the candlelight. From his vantage point he could see the girl kneeling before Rico begin a silent scream as Rico’s long daggers appeared before her, slashing through his lower lip, dripping thick droplets of blood onto her bare legs. Clutching his captive’s wrists tightly, Rico turned to Vince, winked, and then pulled the girl up, sinking his weapons deep into her neck. The woman in Blake’s arms screamed but he was too quick. He pushed her to the floor and began the kill. Vince tensed. His girl pulled away from him in a fever of high-pitched screams. For a moment he could only stand and watch as she turned from him to Rico and then to Blake, watching as her friends were devoured before her. The music was lost in her hysteric yells, blending into a tribal wail of guitars and female terror. Vince jerked her around by the wrist and she looked to him with wide, tearstained eyes, her screams silencing, as if to plead for mercy. “No,” she whispered, shaking her head. Her state of heightened fear flushed her cheeks to an appealing blush. She pulled away from Vince, ripping the material, but he was able to grab her hair and fling her to the wall behind him. He pinned her wrists up near her head as her screams pierced his ears. She kicked out, catching the toe of her shoe on his knee, but Vince pushed it away and slammed

gainst hers, immobilizing her

his body a

struggles. Wicked Angels - Sequel to Dark Rapture 65 Eager to silence her manic screams and journey deeper into the dark side, Vince bit through tangles of red hair, opening the vein into his mouth. He lost himself in the taste of hot life that he had come to crave, savoring and swallowing the adrenaline-laced crimson fountain that sprung forward against the roof of his mouth. Her heart burst sooner than he expected. Thick gushers of lifeblood seeped down his chin and dripped onto his white shirt. The swoon took control and the woman slumped to the floor as Vince reeled backward, lost in unholy rapture. The red satin stripes on the walls blurred into dancing sticks and the candle flames flashed vigorously. A distant humming grew sharp in Vince’s head, bringing a drunken smile to his lips and a bone-dead tingling to his extremities. His legs buckled and he sank to the floor, hitting the couch with his back. He sat there in the throes of drugged ecstasy, his head spinning and the smile on his face growing, as all sensations numbed and then immediately became extreme. The blood moved swiftly through his body, tunneling through his veins at a speed so fast it was like a jolt of lightning. His head filled with a wavering rhythm that pounded in his ears, vanquishing all other sounds that threatened to destroy the ecstasy. It was a long time before sounds started to fade in, as if a finger were being dragged slowly across a rotating record. “Huh.” Vince blinked. Rico knelt before him. At least it looked like Rico, he was a little blurred around the

edges, but one vibrant blue eye glimmered close to Vince’s face. “I said, it’s like nothing you’ve ever experienced before, isn’t it, Vince.” Still in a daze, Vince noticed Rowdy walked past him carrying a limp body over his shoulder. The image quickly faded as Vince’s head bobbed and he fell to his side, landing his head on Rico’s leg. “Take care of this one too, will you.” Rico nodded toward the redhead sprawled at their feet and Blake grabbed her wrist and dragged her along with the girl over his shoulder. Vince focused on the sway of black chiffon overhead. Things were becoming clearer, the rush subsiding. He struggled to hold on to the adrenaline’s last dizzying effects by hugging his arms tightly across his chest. “I really like this place.” “What about fear.” Rico pulled a handful of Vince’s hair away from his face, seeming to enjoy the texture slipping across his palm. “Oh, man.” Unable to put to words the incredible high he had just experienced, Vince closed his eyes and tried to recreate the tremendous surge that had raced through his body. Adrenaline. “I think I could become addicted to

the stuff.”

Michele Hauf 66 Chapter Eleven An inventory of the cupboard above the sink recorded only two boxes of red Jell-O. Anthony made a mental note to pick up a few more boxes next time he went for groceries. It

was the only actual food item he needed to buy for his employers, though, he did pick up things for himself. Upon hearing Sebastian pass through the kitchen Anthony peered over his shoulder. The benefit concert began in two hours and he had to be at the Universal Amphitheater an hour earlier to meet with the press. “Has she risen yet.” the vampire asked dully. “No sir. Would you…like me to check on her.” Anthony cringed, knowing Scarlet was in the dungeon, and all that was kept down there were two coffins. The idea of peeking inside a sleeping vampire’s coffin did not sit well with him. “You know better than that, Anthony.” Anthony’s sigh could have been heard a mile away. He picked up the wooden spoon he had been using to stir the lemonade he’d just prepared. “Is the limo ready.” “Yes, it’s waiting outside. Is there anything else you’ll be needing, sir.” “Well, you can quit with the sir bit.” “Certainly, sir…er, I mean Sebastian.” “There is one thing.” Sebastian dipped his finger into the lemonade pitcher, and then tasted the liquid. “Mm, it’s getting there, Anthony. When she does rise—and I’m sure it will be soon—please remind Scarlet she promised to be at the concert for me tonight. I’m sure she can forgo reading those damn diaries for one night.” “Oh yes, sir, ah, Sebastian. I’ll do that. I’ll drive her myself.” Sebastian absently rubbed a fist into his palm. He seemed lost in some other world, worried. “See that you do, Anthony. Don’t let her leave this house by herself.” Sebastian paused in the carport, pressing his forehead to the cool surface of the stone wall. You are being foolish. This whole thing with Scarlet trying to find these elusive answers had him on edge. He

was actually jealous! Worried someone or something would steal her away should she learn the truth. But was there a truth. Sebastian wasn’t so sure there was more to the vampire life they lead. He’d read all the stories and myths, had heard the whispered secrets. That was all fiction. Wasn’t it. He himself did not have the capability to change to mist and slither under doors. He could not transform into a bat or fly. Crosses were no more effective against repelling him than red Jell-O. Garlic—well—that stuff did repulse him. It was all a big lie. The vampire legend was false, untrue, a myth cultured by dark stories and frightened peasants. He was the closet thing to a mortal human as he could be. Except now blood sustained his life and for some reason, slowed the aging process to nearly a halt. Why. Wicked Angels - Sequel to Dark Rapture 67 He hadn’t a clue. No one had been there after his transformation to ‘teach him the ways’. Strange as it now seemed to remember the past,

it had

actually been Scarlet who transformed him. Go figure. He had fallen in love with her a year ago—no— centuries ago. Hell, it was damn confusing. All Sebastian knew was after he transformed Scarlet a year ago, days later she was kidnapped by a spirit and traveled back through time where she eventually met up with him. Except, he hadn’t been a vampire then. He had been young and mortal,

celebrating his nineteenth birthday—in eighteenth century Paris. And then Scarlet had changed him. A weird twist of fate. One he would never understand. But had always accepted. After his transformation, Scarlet had literally disappeared. He had lain there alone on his bed—in the eighteenth century—wondering what the hell he was going to do. And since that day, he had existed alone as a vampire, never once encountering another of his kind. He had no teacher, no mentor. Now, Sebastian would not discount the fact that there might be things unknown to even him. But he did know one thing. He could not survive without Scarlet. She was his soul. Life would cease to exist without her by his side. Whatever it took, he would do anything to ensure his never losing her.

Gary looked down the tech sheet for the video shoot that Sebastian had provided. Everything was as it should be, though Vince would have to check over the lyrics and shots of himself. This had to be done by tomorrow in order for Sebastian to keep things on schedule. Why was Vince being such a jerk. This was one more thing Vince felt he hadn’t the time for. Gary was now sure things had to change. Vince no longer fit into Wild Child. Gary and the other band members were not eager to see Wild Child move into the macabre direction Vince wanted them to go. He tossed the clipboard onto the table and walked to the patio doors. It had rained all afternoon and the sky was still a steely gray. Streams of water running down the window momentarily blurred his vision. Where was Vince.

In answer to his thoughts, the front door slammed. Vince ambled into the grand room, a splash of brownish-red covering the breast of his white shirt. “What the hell.” Vince bounded up the stairs, raising a hand in acknowledgment. “Hey, Gary.” Gary raced behind him, following him into his bedroom. Appearing from his closet with a suitcase, Vince tossed it on his bed and went to his dresser to rummage through the drawers. “What is this.” Vince tossed a couple of T-shirts onto the bed. “A suitcase, what does it look like.” “No!” Gary rushed over to the dresser and gripped Vince’s shirt. “I mean this. This…this blood! My god, Vince, you’re getting sloppy. What’s going on.” “Well, duh, Gary, isn’t that a surprise,” Vince said mockingly. “Finding blood on the shirt of a vampire. Truly” —he pressed his fingers to his chest— “I am shocked.” Michele Hauf 68 He pushed Gary’s hand away and tossed a couple pair of jeans toward the bed, landing

nd half-closed, as

them close to the suitcase. His eyes were dull a

if he’d had a long night. Vince’s insipid attitude didn’t faze Gary. It was to be expected. “Are you going somewhere.” Vince strode into the closet and starting pulling pants from the shelves and shirts from their hangers. “I’m moving in with Federico Bellange. Don’t try to change my mind.” He reappeared with an armload of clothes and shoved them into the suitcase. “It’s best for both of us. With Rico I have a family. He’s my own kind, you must understand.”

“But—” The suitcase groaned as Vince stuffed his clothes in and started on the zipper. “Don’t worry, man,” he said through gritted teeth as he struggled. “I don’t want there to be hard feelings between the two of us. I want you to stay here and take care of the mansion for me. Everything’s paid for, all you gotta worry about is keepin’ it reasonably clean. I wouldn’t kick you out.” Kick you out. Gary couldn’t believe Vince’s nerve. “I thought I was your family, Vince. And Scarlet. What about Scott and Rob. Is it so easy for you to just leave your old friends behind once you find new ones.” “Oh man, come on. I thought you would understand. Living with my own kind is the best thing for me. Federico is a vampire!” “Yes, but—” “Besides, you’re the one who has been freaking over every thing I do lately. I mean, shit, sending your sister to spy on me.” “Wait a minute—” Vince waved a dismissing hand through the air. “You’ll never understand. You’re a mortal. The same mortal who carries a wooden stake in the trunk of his car wherever he goes. You really think I like driving around with you knowing you’re packing a stake.” “So that is what this is about.” Gary pushed a hand through his tight curls to occupy the fist flexing for some action. “Don’t you trust me. Vince, you know I would never use that stake on you. It’s…it’s for protection! You know, from…t

You don’t think you’re the only one out there, do you.”

he others.

Vince slammed the suitcase to the floor but a piece of the bedspread was caught up in the zipper. With a furious huff, he kicked the leather case and pulled the material from the metal teeth in a rip of cotton. “Vince! Would you calm down. What the hell has gotten into you. Geez. Since you’ve become a vampire you’ve developed such a temper.” “Yeah.” Vince pushed a shaky hand through his hair and tossed it back over his shoulder with a defiant flip. “Maybe Rico’s right. Maybe I should start looking for something else. There’s a guy who lives with him and he’s got a band. They’re looking for a singer—” “A singer. What’s this. You’re not only leaving me, but you’re leaving Wild Child too.” “I didn’t say that…I just—” It was too late for control or understanding. Gary unleashed his anger. “I should have expected it. If you’re not leaving then consider this your chance. I don’t want a blood-crazed killer—” Wicked Angels - Sequel to Dark Rapture 69 “Go on! Say it.” Vince lunged forward, his jaw tightening to expose the tips of his razor-sharp fangs. “You don’t want a blood-crazed vampire in your band. Hell, Gary, I’m surprised you didn’t kick me out a long time ago.” “Don’t blame all this on me, Vince Lyons. You’re the one who has changed. You’ve been gone every night since this happened. You never have time for the band—” “Like you’d even care!” Vince’s arms flailed wildly as he ranted. “You never want to give my lyrics a try, Gary. Never!” Gary matched his friend’s stare as they squared off before each other. “I’m not

gonna have the band playing your bloody vampire songs!” A deathly silence fell over the room as Vince drew himself to his full height, his eyes glowering over Gary’s huffing figure. Slowly, as if calculated, his teeth descended, slipping smoothly over his taut lips. Gary gulped. Vince had never threatened him like this before. He’d never once felt intimidated by or scared of his friend. Until now. But he didn’t back down. “Didn’t think it would ever come to this,” Gary said in the dead calm. Vince remained, his teeth glimmering viciously. “Get the hell out,” Gary hissed as he held Vince’s gaze. “And you can forget about coming to rehearsal next weekend.” Vince’s upper lip crinkled to a sneer, exposing the full length of his fangs. He bent for his suitcase and stepped up to Gary, his blood-tinged breath playing foully over the man’s face. Feeling he would be sick from the stench, Gary swallowed. He wondered for a moment if the victim had been young. Probably. And pretty too, knowing Vince. “You make me sick.” “Yes,” Vince spoke calmly. “I suppose I do. But isn’t it strange your own sister, a vampire too, does not.” “She doesn’t take the lives of innocent humans.” Vince shrugged and walked away. “Give her time, Gary. Give her time.” Michele Hauf 70 Chapter Twelve Spain, 13th century

h her blood as footsteps trudged toward her bed chamber. Anticipation shivered throug

They were markedly slow with no incessant groaning. He was weak. “Your sacrifice is as great as mine,” she whispered. Slowly the chamber door creaked open and Adriano entered. His eyes scanned the floor, his shoulders slumped to pull his body down into a meek shadow before her. His hair hung limp near his sunken cheeks, his fingers dangling at his thighs. She could not believe he had weakened so in only three days. “My lord.” “I am starved,” he started, and swayed to the side in proof, though he could not prevent it. His body craved the blood, yet his muscles could not react in kind. “And you…I see my sacrifice helped greatly.” “I am much better. Thank you, my lord. You truly are kind of heart to sacrifice so much.” “I did not do it without a fight.” He fell to his knees before her and Esmarelda rushed to him. He encircled her hips and pressed his cheek into her soft belly. “Forgive me for my cruel words and actions, my lady. I could not help it. It was the blood hunger.” “There is nothing to forgive, beloved husband.” “But now…you see…I am at your mercy, dear one. I feel I cannot rise even to take from you the sustenance I desperately need. Though, this is good...I know now it was love that allowed me to keep from having your door broken down. I love you so much, Esmarelda.” His tears seeped into her night robe and spread across her stomach, hot and painful. “I will not deny you your needs.” She pushed her palm along the side of his face. The bones were prominent and his face gaunt. She tilted his chin up and cleared away the hair from his lashes. “But I ask one thing of you before that.” “You may ask me a thousand requests. I shall grant them all if I am able. What is

it that would please you, my lady. How can I redeem my dark desperation in your eyes.” Esmarelda fell to her knees and cupped her husband’s hands inside of hers, kissing his fingertips before she spoke. “Kiss me.” His eyelids fell over the sparkling darkness she had grown to crave. He nodded, a simple resolute decision to break his vow of the decades. “Sí. I shall give myself to you completely. For only you have had the power to enchant this cursed beast. You have looked beyond the vicious superstitions and the truths that are so cruelly foul, and you have uncovered the mortal soul that shelters deep inside me. For you, my lady, I give you my love.” And for the first time in her eighteen years, Esmarelda felt the greatest passion as her husband’s lips touched to hers. He was weak and so she pushed her fingers through his hair and held his head to hers. In all her dreams she could never have imagined a kiss to envelop her so completely. Her entire body warmed and began to tingle. And when Adriano parted her lips it seemed their contact increased his strength, as if he were feeding off her energy. His hot tongue delved across her lower lip to dance with her own. Wicked Angels - Sequel to Dark Rapture 71 She thought sure she would swoon, but Adriano clutched her to his body as they knelt there in the silver ray of moonlight that beamed through the narrow window. “My desire,” he whispered into her mouth. “You are my salvation, and at the same time…my darkest temptation.” Esmarelda broke contact and looked into her husband’s dark eyes. Beads of

sweat had

r badly. More tha

formed above his brow. He needed he n just the physical touch. He needed her blood. She recognized the hunger lust in his eyes. “Kiss me again. Quickly, before it is too late.” His smile carved deep into his blood-drained cheeks. Adriano took Esmarelda’s hand and kissed the knuckles, flicking his tongue teasingly across her flesh. “I am weak and starved for your blood, this is true. But, dear wife, I wish you to take your pleasures before my own tonight. Hold the devil back in chains, I’ll not deny you your rightful pleasures. I think I can manage that.” He spread his arms wide, offering up his shuddering body. “Do as you wish, my lady. Tonight I am your slave.” Beads of glimmering sweat had sealed his shirt to his body. Esmarelda stripped away the soaked linen with tender urgency. Adriano drew a surprised breath through his teeth as Esmarelda’s kiss touched his chest. He twined his fingers into the golden softness of her hair and when she commanded in a gentle tone, he stood shakily before her, her master and her slave. “Sit on the bed so I may remove your boots,” she said. Adriano did, though he fell back across the crimson velvet as her fingers trailed down from his knees and to the tender insides of his calves, covered only in thin black hose. Her touch acted as an elixir of power and pleasure combined. His strength was growing, he could feel the blood hunger begin to stab at his patience. But he would persevere. He must for Esmarelda. Wanting only to fulfill her deepest desires before Adriano could no longer control his need, Esmarelda worked deftly to remove his hose, tossing them to the floor, the

left leg falling across his boot toe, the right leg landing far off near the end of the bed. And then she knelt over her husband’s inert figure and touched the lovely shaft that pulsed madly for entrance into her dark paradise. She wrapped her fingers around it and squeezed, finding it was firm and very hard, yet its texture was of velvet, rivaling the smoothness of the flesh on the inside of her elbow. Adriano’s tormented groan alerted her of his sacrifice. She mustn’t take too long. She didn’t want him to suffer more than he already had. Oh, but this pulsing hardness in her hands was truly lovely. So temptingly wicked. She touched the tip of her tongue to the velvet shaft and with Adriano’s encouraging moans she began to devour his lust. When he felt he could hold back no longer, Adriano lifted his wife to her feet. “You serve me well, my lady. But it is your pleasure that must come now.” And he laid her back across the bed, the tense hardness of his muscles pushing the veins in his arms and neck out like earthworms. A drop of sweat fell from his forehead onto Esmarelda’s stomach, sending a blaze of goose bumps rippling across her flesh. He parted her legs and his fingers found the pulsing pearl that would grant her the bliss he so wished to give her. Esmar

elda’s

body arched and she pressed her groin up to meet his touch, begging to be controlled by him. Michele Hauf 72 Adriano laid his cheek against Esmarelda’s stomach, listening intently to the

fervent cry of her heart. He could sense the imminent wave that would soon shudder through her body. “Do you love me.” he asked. “Forever!” she screamed as her body sailed over the edge where darkness meets dazzle and pain and happiness join into bliss. Unable to control his rampant thirst, Adriano pinned Esmarelda’s arms above her head and for a moment, watched as her face melted into a quiet satiation. Her eyelids closed. Her lips pursed and parted. A deep sigh was the final release. “Take me now, my love,” she whispered, the remnants of delight curling her lips into a satisfied smile. And he did. Adriano opened the vein and drank heartily of his wife’s hot blood. Los Angeles, present “Forever.” Scarlet released a pent-up sigh. The very same thing she had cried to Sebastian days ago. The dreams had invaded her thoughts again. Only this time they had come while she was fully awake, her mind in a sort of relaxed reverie as she sat in the back of the car. They had arrived for the benefit concert. Anthony waited directions to park. “You’re speaking to me, aren’t you, Esmarelda.” Scarlet whispered. “You want me to know your story.” The love between Esmarelda and Adriano had been a precious jewel they hoarded away from public eyes. Saved only for themselves. It was so perfect. It gave Scarlet hope her love for Sebastian would survive their current difficulties. No matter if she found some great secrets of the vampire or if she came away knowing nothing more than she now knew, Scarlet knew one thing. She would always love Sebastian. She stepped outside and followed Anthony across the oil-spotted car port and

inside the arena. “You don’t have to do this, Anthony.” Scarlet acknowledged the backstage bouncer as they passed by his hulking physique. He knew she was girlfriend and smiled widely, revealing a missing front tooth, and then stepped aside as she and Anthony passed. “I would feel much better knowing you made it backstage. Sebastian would never forgive me if he knew I had just dropped you off.” Anthony skipped ahead to keep up with Scarlet’s rapid pace. “I’ll be back around one to pick up both of you. And this time I promise I won’t be late.” They reached the backstage area, which was hung with long black curtains. “Thanks, Anthony. I think I’ll just slip close to stage and let Sebastian see I’m here. ***** His fingers danced in frantic grace as the opening notes of the concert called the red spotlight across the black background, subduing his figure in crimson light, a gentle lull before the storm. As was the routine, Sebastian started acoustic. He had his cherished flamenco guitar, Lucia, to make the evening go smoothly. Lucia gave little objection to his manipulation of her strings in effort to reproduce the elegance and festive mood of the Spanish flamenco song. Wicked Angels - Sequel to Dark Rapture 73 He started with a quick-paced fandango that captured the audience and showcased his skills, his speed, his pure understanding of the flamenco sound. Though ninety percent of the

audience were young kids, heavy metal headbangers who knew him only for his electric guitar work, he created a new interest and wonder in them with the speed and nervous notes that worked the flamenco mystique. His fingers tapped rhythmically against Lucia’s body, accentu

ating the

turns and twists of the flamenco dancer as behind him appeared a woman dressed in a bata de cola with castanets on her fingers. She twirled, arched, and bent to the seduction of his music and the audience roared their approval. Sebastian stood an icon in black suede pants and ruffled silk shirt, his steel-toed boots tapping to the beat as his fingers were invisible to the eyes of his admirers. He stepped to the front of the stage, the spotlights showering him in sparkling reds and blues, and his fans screamed. The music grew frantic, faster, challenging the dancer to match his speed. A flip of his head splayed sweat across the stage, his hair sticking to his forehead and cheeks. As the song slowed and he became more paced, the dancer twirled off the stage. He stood alone, concentrating on the intensity of the sound only he and Lucia could create. His mind drowned out the screams, the yells, the cries of adoration as the notes vibrated from the strings, through his fingers, and to his heart where all music began and ended. He closed his eyes and found himself, for the

moment, in

the quiet room above the shoe shop in Córdoba where he first began to study the flamenco traditions.

The breeze kissed his cheek, the summer days sweet with fresh grass, and the perfume of the ladies… Rosita, my tragic one. Ah...but the memories are bittersweet. Better to bury them away. Grasping back reality, Sebastian easily slipped into the soul of Lucia. It was at this moment he achieved duende. The inner spirituality where all music was born. He fell into a trance. Music flowed from his heart, bringing all happiness and pain to his fingers, where it was interpreted for the masses. Lucia sang a happy tremolo for the memory of his mother, her pizzicato danced the carefree years of Sebastian’s youth, her brisk and fancy chords emulated Scarlet’s laughter, and her moans screamed out for the death of Sebastian’s mortal soul. His cue from off-stage jarred Sebastian from the trance and alerted him to prepare for the switch. As his song slowed and the fans had begun to sway in time to its rhythm, Sebastian stepped to the metal stand where his electric guitar awaited his instruction. This was the tricky part of the show. Until his specially designed guitar was built—the double one with the acoustic on top and the electric on the bottom—he had to do it this way. He began a rapid scale of bass notes that sounded like a drummer’s waking call. With his left hand he plucked out the beat on the acoustic and his right hand tapped out harmonics on the electric guitar, blending the two sounds in careful harmony and sending the fans into a cheering roar as he commanded both instruments. As the electric won out to the acoustic, Lucia was removed by a stagehand and Sebastian slid fully into electric mode. He continued to work the crowd into a frenzy as he displayed his intricate talent. His fingers raced along the narrow guitar neck, flying through the air and dive-

bombing attempts to get his message across. The guitar obeyed its master’s commands, singing and screaming, Michele Hauf 74 crying, and finally rejoicing into the final number in which the backdrop danced with vibrant turquoise and magenta spotlights. In a moment of elation, Sebastian stepped to the edge of the stage. He looked across the crowd, his mind connected to his fingers as he played, his eyes seeing the masses, the fans, the blind-followers of a man who would be a monster in their eyes if their hearts were not captive to his music. The last song, To Dance With Immortality, finished in a flurry of tremolo scales, taking the audience once again back to the flamenco sound, but this time electrified. A white rose was tossed on-stage. Where it had come

from,

Sebastian did not see. Without missing a note, he fell to his knees, bent over and plucked the stem up with his teeth, much to the approval of the roaring crowd. He finished in grand flurry and held his guitar high as he received the adulation. Cheers and applause rained over him, maddening and frightful as Sebastian’s soul was jerked back to reality, and finally he could feel the recognition and acceptance from the blind worshippers. Wicked Angels - Sequel to Dark Rapture 75 Chapter Thirteen Spain, 13th century

“It won’t be long.” Paquita gestured to the chamber maid to bring another wet cloth and then turned to press the one she held to her mistress’s forehead. They had discovered Esmarelda earlier this morning, lying motionless upon the bed. At first Paquita had thought her dead from her pallor and stillness. But Esmarelda had whispered softly, setting the chatelaine’s heart back at pace. “Water,” she’d requested. “The fiend,” Paquita sneered as she held the pewter tankard to Esmarelda’s lips. “You were fresh and gay yesterday eve. I thought it a miracle. And then he does this!” Paquita set the tankard on the rushes and pressed the cloth over her mistress’s forehead. Ah well, it wasn’t as if she hadn’t expected it. It was that all the others hadn’t lasted so long. Two and a half months! This girl had been so strong. She’d almost had everyone believing she would live forever. And now this. “Watch the mistress.” Paquita rose and gathered the soiled towels into her arms. “I must alert Rogero and…the coffin maker. See to it she is kept as comfortable as possible.” She glanced back over Esmarelda’s body, so thin and pale and inches from death. “Such a waste, such a precious waste.” Los Angeles, present Esmarelda was near death. But she couldn’t be! Unless it really was Adriano who had been the father of Vince’s bloodline. No. Scarlet did not want to believe that. It had to be Esmarelda. There was goodness in Vince. It had been planted by Esmarelda. Hopefully. Slipping away after Sebastian’s first set, Scarlet had called a cab. Compelled by unknown reason’s, Scarlet gave the driver Vince’s address. Since she’d been reading the

diaries, her mind was being invaded by some…one. Someone who wanted her to now go to Vince. Save him, the soundless voice beckoned. You are right. He is good. It was Esmarelda who pleaded with her. Scarlet sensed it like she could sense the shimmer from of another of her kind. She had called Vince from the pay phone after calling a cab. “Come to me tonight, Scarlet,” he had whispered. “I’ll be right there,” she said as if hypnotized by the magician’s voice. Vince waited outside on the steps of Rico’s mansion. A misty rain dressed his body in delicate translucent jewels. “I wasn’t sure whether or not you’d come.” Taking in the vast facade of the white mansion, Scarlet murmured, “I wanted to.” I need to. “Aren’t you supposed to be with Sebastian tonight.” She exhaled. “He’s at the benefit concert. He’d be pissed if he knew where I was but I’ll be back before he misses me. Besides, I need to be here.” “Need to.” Michele Hauf 76 “Don’t ask for explanations. You wouldn’t understand where my mind has been lately. So what’s up with you. You look a little depressed.”

ince gestured his hands through the misted air. “It’s Gary. He told me to “Yeah.” V

take a hike tonight. Doesn’t want me in the band anymore.” “I can’t believe he would—” Vince shook off his announcement with a sweeping wave of his hand. “No biggie. I could see this one coming for a long time. I just hope this doesn’t turn you against me now.” His eyes met hers and Scarlet swallowed to see the pleading innocence.

“God, things are such a mess lately.” She looked out across the lot. Moonlight shimmered across the black pebbles paving the driveway. “I’m so confused. I love Gary dearly. But I would never stop being your friend, Vince. “ She turned and walked to the white doric column that supported the porch. What am I doing here. Sebastian would never forgive me. Is this you, Esmarelda. What do you want me to know. Her decision to learn more about herself and the vampire condition had all been triggered by watching Vince kill. She had come here by means of an unforced coercion. “After what happened the other night…” Flashes of Vince feeding on the woman in the alleyway pushed into Scarlet’s mind. “Watching you kill… You must understand Vince, there is this blood bond between Sebastian and I. We will always be one, no matter what happens, and should we part I feel we will always be together. In the blood, you know. I hate to hear the words come out of my mouth but…I am a vampire...and I was so tempted. Vince…” He tipped her chin up with his finger. “There’s nothing wrong with that.” “But I’m so confused. I know you’ve told me it is my nature, but I’m not so sure. I think it’s the values my family instilled in me all my life, they’re battling with my sense of right and wrong. Even though I’ve changed and I’m very different from the common mortals who must obey the rules of the land, I still feel very much a part of the mortal race. And that’s the whole problem. Why am I so normal. What’s missing, Vince. Can you tell me. Do you possess the answers.” “I don’t know about having all the answers, Scarlet, but I think there’s something I can do to help.” A thin stream of rain trickled down Vince’s cheek, like a tear. “Come inside. I

want you to meet Rico. I know you’ll like him. He’s a hard person not to fall in love with. Maybe being around more of your kind will help you to see things more clearly. Blake is here, too.” “But I thought we…” She pulled back on his hand, staring blindly at their joined fingers. His fingers were so warm, even in the rain. Not this way. ” I thought it was just going to be the two of us, Vince. I have questions. There are things I want to know.” “First you have to meet Rico. He’d never forgive me if I didn’t introduce you.” So Scarlet received the grand tour of the Bellange mansion. She was in awe of the conspicuous display of wealth. An original Picasso hung in the gallery upstairs, accompanied on either side by solid gold candelabras circa the eleventh cent

ury. And

there were angels everywhere, in paintings and lithographs, carved into the woodwork, set into the plaster frieze and glimmering in precious metals. “We are the wicked angels,” Vince said with a masterly smile. “That’s what Rico calls us.” Wicked Angels - Sequel to Dark Rapture 77 “Kinda romantic sounding.” But what Scarlet found most interesting was the collection of swords hung along the upper hallway. She trailed behind Vince, lingering over the elegant weapons, until her eyes fell upon one with a hilt of twisted silver and five tiny rubies embedded within the precious metal. She had held one similar to this once, a year ago, when she had traveled through time to the eighteenth century. Francesco, Vince’s blood master, had been alive and well then, and had offered to give her fencing lessons with a blade much like this one. She drew her

finger along the blade’s edge, surprised to find it so sharp. “That’s a nice one.” Vince startled her from behind and the blood oozed from a red slice across her fingertip. Clutching her hand to her chest with her finger extended, Scarlet looked to Vince to find his interest rousing. He stared at her bleeding finger, not moving to touch, but she knew from his slowing, deep breaths, the sight tempted him. Daring to feed the betrayal, she lifted her finger to Vince’s lips. His tongue encircled it slowly as he sucked and drew the blood from her. A tormented moan escaped him and Scarlet pushed close to his body, matching her hips to his. As she pulled her finger away from his mouth his head followed. Vince nudged into her hair and bulleted kisses along her neck. His heart pounded against hers. Feeling her teeth slide over her lips, Scarlet bent to Vince’s neck and tested the pounding vein with her pin-sharp weapons. His flesh smelled of rain and sweat. The sense of want was immense. She had to taste the blood of this fiery man. For the moment, Sebastian no longer existed. “Evening, Vince.” Scarlet froze and Vince looked up, blinking away a curl of her dark hair. “Blake.” “Don’t mind me,” their visitor said as he strolled down the stairs. “I can see you’re busy. I’ll meet your friend later. Rico’s in one of his moods. You’ll find him in the studio playing the dirge again.” Scarlet willed her canines back up before the other man noticed. What are you doing. You didn’t come here to betray Sebastian. “Don’t rush off, Blake.” Vince grabbed her hand and pulled her down the stairs behind

him. “I want you to meet Scarlet.” “Ah, the lovely lady who lives with Sebastian DelaCourte.” Blake bowed his head and offered his hand. “I’ve heard little about you from Vince other than your beauty is of the utmost brilliance. And I can see now why he mentioned nothing else.” Somewhat taken aback by the man’s charm, and still flushed from her brief encounter, Scarlet shook Blake’s hand. As their palms joined the shimmer gave her a bit of a start. This was the first vampire she had met other than Vince and Sebastian, and of course, Francesco. “Vince has told me you’ve made him welc

ome here. I’m glad

for that.” “And where is your friend, Sebastian.” “He’s playing a benefit concert tonight.” “Sebastian is of no concern,” Vince said. Michele Hauf 78 “I was just going to make a few calls, get some friends together.” Blake looked at Vince for a long moment and Scarlet wondered what they were silently conveying to each other. “Are you going to join the evening’s festivities.” “I don’t know yet.” Vince glanced uneasily at Scarlet. “Maybe we’ll go say hello to Rico, try to pull him out of his funk.” Blake’s smile revealed brilliant white teeth set between his thick red lips. “Well, if anything can help, I believe those wicked green eyes will do the trick. It was a pleasure meeting you, Scarlet. You’ll be back.” “Oh…sure, I hope so. Vince tells me you have a band. I’d like to hear you guys play

sometime.” Vince gave Blake a high five and pulled Scarlet further down the hallway. “You really want to listen to us play.” “Us. What do you mean, are you singing with this vampire band. That was quick.” “I haven’t started singing with Blake’s band…yet.” Scarlet sighed. “I guess I might have seen it coming.” “Don’t give me any lectures.” “Don’t worry I’m not going to try and convince you to go back to Wild Child. Right now I think the best thing for you and Gary is a little time apart. This split might be a good thing for both of you. Ooo…” She rubbed her arms, noticing goose bumps had prickled across them. “It’s cold down this way. Don’t you feel it, Vince.” “What.” Scarlet looked about the hallway, trying to discern the strange feeling that had overcome her since trekking further into the depths of the house. It was almost haunting. “I don’t know, it’s a weird feeling I get. Like…a sadness, or something. A heavy feeling that—I don’t know—it’s like it drags on my heart.” “Yeah, I noticed that feeling the first time I came down this way, too. Like a deep concern or something just kinda falls over you. It’s probably the air conditioning.” Cold air. Scarlet stopped at the door where Vince stood. She was sure the cold would not make her feel this way. It was as if she could cry, like an exhaustion from some deep emotion was pulling her down. “Listen.” Vince put his ear to the door. His eyes scampered curiously over her face as she listened, delving for the spark that had ignited before. “He’s playing that song. That means he’s thinking of her.” “Of—” He pressed a long finger to Scarlet’s lips. “Shh.” “Of who.” she whispered from beneath his finger.

“His sister. He won’t tell me much about her, but I think she’s dead. They must have loved intensely. He becomes lost in another world when he’s like this. It’s eerie. I get the feeling that her ghost is hovering about the room when he plays this.” Scarlet averted her eyes upward. “Maybe she is. We shouldn’t disturb him.” “Nah, it’s cool. He wants to meet you. Let’s slip in quietly and listen for a while.” Without being offered a choice, Scarlet followed Vince inside the glowing metal walls of the studio. The man bent over the keys seemed n

ot to notice

them as they carefully made way to the couch and sat down. The grand piano mourned deeply, pleading all who listened to feel the mercy, the loss, the tenderness of love still there. Wicked Angels - Sequel to Dark Rapture 79 The heavy feeling stayed with Scarlet as she listened and observed, finding Rico an elegant man in his late twenties with ill-kept hair, uncut and tousled about his head as if a bother. His fingers, weighed down by an assortment of thick silver rings, danced soulfully across the lower keys, the one blue stone catching the candlelight in fierce blazes of aquamarine. Finding herself entranced by the elegant sadness of this man, Scarlet leant forward, cupping her chin in her palm and absently slipped her other hand into Vince’s. “She would have been jealous of your beauty.” Scarlet was surprised to hear Rico’s deep voice as he continued to play, not turning around to acknowledge either of them. She looked at Vince who offered no answer. It seemed he was too caught up in her hand, which rested in his palm.

“She.” Scarlet offered to Rico’s back. “My sister,” he said as the notes grew deeper and slower. He gestured with a nod toward the Mucha lithograph that depicted a mahogany-tressed woman dancing in pink silks. “Catrina Fiorenza Bellange. A lovely woman in the eyes of any man. As are you. Has she met the others.” “Just introduced her to Blake,” Vince said. “He’s on the phone planning the festivities.” “Wonderful. Then she will be staying.” Rico spun around, flashing his bejeweled hands across his knees. “I don’t think so.” “Forgive me.” Rico offered his hand to Scarlet. “Federico Bellange, master of this house and friend to any and all who shall call themselves vampire.” Finding herself transfixed on his odd-colored eyes, Scarlet reached out. Rico pulled her hand to his lips and pressed a chivalrous kiss to her knuckles. “One is mine and the other is my sister’s,” he said cryptically. “But that is something you shall never understand. So! Vince tells me you share your life with Sebastian DelaCourte.” “Yes. Do you know him.” He shrugged. “I’ve seen him on the music television and read stories about him in the magazines Blake has lying about. He’s an excellent guitarist, unmatched and quite unrestrained. Though it seems as though his life may have many restraints.” His last statement was more a question and Scarlet glanced to Vince. Just how much had he told Rico about her and Sebastian. She replied automatically. “When you have a busy life such as his and you spend much time in the public eye your life must have guidelines. Total chaos is not a part of Sebastian’s vocabulary.” “Nor is freedom,” Vince added with a snicker. Scarlet cast him a cold glare and Vince settled back into the couch, justly admonished.

Blake popped into the room followed by Rowdy. “We’re gonna get things going pretty soon, Rico. You interested.” “I don’t know. What do you say, Vince, would the lovely lady be interested in

altered and jumped for a moment to her breasts, accentuated by the tight bodice of her black rayon dress, and then he attending the evenings’ festivities.” His gaze f

settled back on her eyes, which seemed to hold him entranced. “What sort of festivities.” Scarlet asked. “No, she wouldn’t.” Vince stood and pulled on her hand. Michele Hauf 80 Not sure what was being discussed, Scarlet stood also. “She’s not ready for this, Rico.” “Ready for what.” Was this it. The answers she had been seeking. Scarlet looked from Vince to Blake and the other whom she had not been introduced to yet. He had corkscrew curls and a mouth that curled up on one side exposing a glint of hound dog fang. Blake caught her glance and smiled slyly. “Vince, what are you guys talking about.” “I think she’d be cool about it,” Blake added. “We’re talking about—” “No, Rico.” Vince clutched Scarlet’s hand to his chest but she shook him off. “Wait, Vince. I want to know what you guys are talking about. You say this is your new family, that this is your home. I want to know what makes you happy, what it is that you share with these men that makes you part of their family.” “We share the vampire nature, lovely one,” Rico began in a deep voice that seduced instantly. “We share the fear—” “Rico,” Vince admonished through a tight jaw.

“The adrenaline rush.” He ignored Vince’s pleas. “I think we should probably go now.” “Vince.” Rico laid a hand on his shoulder. “I’m sorry, I don’t wish to overstep my bounds. But it is her right to know.” Scarlet watched as the two men stared each other down, Vince’s jaw pulsing tensely. “Why deny her what is rightfully hers.” “What do you mean by the adrenaline rush.” Scarlet pulled from Vince’s grasp and stepped back. She looked from him to Rico, feeling at once the tension, the battle of wills, and the silent urging from Rico to step forth. Become one. Step into the families’ embrace. “I don’t understand.” Vince shrugged and laid an acquiescent hand over Rico’s. The two clasped hands as good friends do and he gestured that Rico continue. “The adrenaline produced when fear is present is the drug I speak of, Scarlet.” Rico mastered her curiosity instantly with his seductive voice. “We all do it, it’s only natural.” “I don’t get it. Are you saying if someone is afraid of you, you get a sort of rush. What do you do, jump out from the shadows and flash your fangs like some horror movie icon.” Blake laughed aloud as Rico stepped closer to Scarlet. The smell of cedar and wine tickled her nose, though it was not on Rico’s breath, it seemed more a part of him physically. As if a shroud. “I would never hide in the shadows. But I do flash my fangs, as you say.” He chuckled deeply, inducing the two stooges to mumble their own chuckles. “I never kill until I see the fear in my victim’s eyes, then I know the adrenaline has begun to flow. Shall I show you.” Feeling Rico move closer with each breath, as if he hovered without walking, Scarlet

tepped back. “I don’t know…” She looked to Vince who stood

s

with arms crossed, legs spread, concentrating on her actions. “I’m sure I believe you. You don’t have to bring a victim in here.” Rico closed in on her. “Are you afraid of me, Scarlet.” “N-no.” Though, right now, she wasn’t too sure. Rico was such an overwhelming presence, she had no idea of his intentions. Why was Vince just standing there. Wicked Angels - Sequel to Dark Rapture 81 “You’re not afraid at all. You have no qualms regarding me. You know everything there is to know and are confidant that I am sane and of a sound mind. Can you be so sure I’ll not leap forward and pin you to the wall and rape you before all present.” Scarlet backed away, madly searching Vince’s eyes, finding no support. Rape. She didn’t like this anymore. As much as she had been compelled to come here, she wanted to leave. Now. “I see it,” Rico whispered. “See what.” she replied shakily. “The fear!” Scarlet let out a scream as Rico leapt for her and in less than a thought, he tilted her head and touched his fangs to her vein. His daggers pierced her flesh and he began to suck. She pushed against his chest and was relieved when Vince pulled him back. She stumbled back to the wall, her hand slipping over the bloody lacerations on her neck. Rico grinned from behind a woozy facade, revealing red-stained teeth. Vince slipped his arm around her waist. “What the hell did you do that for, man.” Rico licked his lips. “She wanted me to prove a point. I did. You believe me now, don’t you, precious one.”

Melding closer to Vince’s protective stance, Scarlet could only nod. She was ashamed Rico had been able to jump forward so quickly without her expecting it. And he was right, she had been scared. But now she was nothing but pissed. This was the man Vince raved about. The leader of a family that cradled Vince with open vampire arms. She did not come for this! “I can’t believe you did that, Rico.” “He’s just playing,” Blake chimed in defense. “Forgive me,” Rico said and swiped a hand across his lips before offering it to Scarlet in a truly apologetic gesture. “I am a man of contrasts. Actions speak louder than words for me. And you, Vince, I must beg your forgiveness also. By no means did I mean to tread on your territory. The point has been proven, she knows of what we speak. Now, will you be staying.” He lowered his eyes on Scarlet. “No,” Scarlet broke in before Vince could speak. The wounds had started to heal on her neck but the adrenaline still ran rampant. “I think I should go home now.” “I hope it’s not because of me you choose to flee so quickly.” All eyes, including the mismatched pair belonging to Rico were on Scarlet, the room fell silent save for the flutter of the candle flames. “I imagine I should be quite upset with your ways, Mr. Bellange, but…” You wanted to learn more. “I think I’ve had enough excitement for

e evening.” “I’ll take you home.” Vince draped an arm over her on

shoulder and pulled her out the door. “How can you trust this man after knowing him for such a short time, Vince. You saw what he just did.”

“Rico is my friend. I’ve told him everything I’ve been through since I’ve become a vampire. I can talk to him, he’s a good man.” “Oh yes,” she said, easing her fingers across her neck. “I noticed.” “I shouldn’t have let him do that. But you’re no worse for the wear, are you.” Michele Hauf 82 Stepping outside into the fine mist, Scarlet pulled on Vince’s hand and he stopped on the top step. “So that is your passion now. You instill fear in your victims before killing them. Isn’t it bad enough you kill in the first place, but now you’ve—” Her angry, confused words were stopped by Vince’s lips. He kissed her fiercely, pulling her body tight to his as she first struggled, but then gave in to his silent requests. And while his kisses were laced with the sweet surprise of a new lover’s passions, Vince’s kisses also scared her. She had never betrayed Sebastian’s love before. But he didn’t have to force her mouth open as she succumbed to his demands. “Enough angry words. You know what my passion is,” he whispered. “And if you don’t, then you’ll know soon enough.” He pulled her down the steps and across the pebbled drive. Looking about, he pointed to the enormous willow tree that freefell across the front lawn, its thin silvery leaves glistening beneath the moonlight with tears of summer rain. “But Vince!” They ducked beneath the spidery arms of the tree into the inner canopy and Vince drew Scarlet down to the wet grass. “They’re all inside getting high. No one will bother us.” She stared at him, aghast, yet strangely excited by his actions. He pulled his tshirt over his head, revealing a hard muscled, pale chest that shivered to goose bumps as the rain lightly dusted it. Drawn forward to kiss the hand that waited her, she was suddenly

halted by a shooting pain in her chest. “What is it.” Vince pulled her close, his movements shaking the canopy of leaves and showering them with warm rivulets of rain. “I…I don’t know. Oh, it hurts so bad.” She pressed her knuckles to her breast, trying to lessen the choking pain as it wavered like a wild animal trapped inside her ribcage. Overhead, a crow cawed. Not this way. “Oh, Vince, I…I can’t do this.” She pulled away from him and ducked under the hanging branches. “No, Scarlet, don’t go. It’s just…you’re scared!” She closed her car door and swallowed, watching as Vince waited her return. No, I can’t, she thought. I can’t betray Sebastian. ***** “Oh, man, are you all right.” Sebastian jerked his elbow to shrug off the roadie who’d come to his assistance. The sudden clutch in his gut had literally pulled him to the floor. “No problem. Just a little exhaustion,” he lied, and allowed the man to help him to his feet. A black wooden box containing his guitars wheeled past him, en route for the waiting truck outside. The roadie gave him one last questioning rise of his brows before turning and

grabbing hold of the side of the box to help its direction. Settling against the brick wall, Sebastian breathed in the shadows like a restorative elixir. The pain in his gut, upon further perusal, seemed to come more from his heart. Was this what it was like to have a heart attack. Could a vampire even have one. “What the hell is going on.”

Wicked Angels - Sequel to Dark Rapture 83 Sebastian closed his eyes. He couldn’t sense her. Had Scarlet left. If she were anywhere in the arena he should have been able to pick up on her presence. Why would she leave. Were those damned diaries so compelling they meant more to her than him. “No.” The adrenaline rush from the performance, the numbing roar of the crowd, they still worked to disorient Sebastian’s thoughts. “You are thinking like a fool again. She probably had good reason for leaving. I hope.” ***** The radio had announced the end of the concert over an hour ago. Scarlet sat in the garden behind the mansion, the heady scent of roses calming her apprehensions. Her ears picked up the sound of softly treading feet and her skin flushed over as her body sensed the arrival of her blood master. “I looked for you after the concert.” “I’m sorry, I wasn’t feeling well. I had to get some air. What are these for.” Sebastian laid a bouquet of white roses bound with a soft red ribbon on Scarlet’s lap and sat beside her on the iron bench. She had lit two garden candles, one to either side of the bench, and the golden light caught in Sebastian’s eyes like molten lava simmering in the center of shiny black coal. He traced a finger over a velvety white petal. “They are used by mortals as a gesture of love, caring, and kindness. Though I fear I may have borrowed the tradition as a means of pardon from all I have done wrong…whatever that may be.” Scarlet folded a petal between her fingers and sniffed the frilly roses. She wondered

where Sebastian had gotten flowers so late at night. Ah, the perks of being a celebrity. “You gave me roses once before, when we first met. Of course, that was an apology, too. But what are you apologizing for now, Sebastian. You’ve done nothing wrong.” “Really.” His voice was drained, emotionless, lacking in belief of her words. “Then why this void between us lately. You don’t seem to care for my company any more, chèrie. My heart suffers to understand what is going on with you. Please, tell me why you’ve been in such a state of discontent. Is it…is it the diaries.” One bloom dispersed and fell to the ground near her bare toes and she shivered at the tickle of petal to flesh. She couldn’t decide herself why she felt so indifferent towards him lately. She was just in flux, things were changing inside her that couldn’t do with interference from the outside. Especially Sebastian. And now there were a few new knots in the rope. Vince, and the compulsive urge to discover more about herself. Should I tell him Vince kissed me. That he had every intention of making love to me. No.

bastian would be outraged. And what of her strange compulsion to go see Vince in the first Se

place. “I don’t know. Maybe I’m just in a slump. It happens to us women occasionally, you know. Don’t worry, I’ll get over it.” “When.” “Soon…maybe. Just don’t try so hard, Sebastian. It’s nothing against you personally. I don’t loath the sight of you.” “Yet, you don’t love me, either.” He slid his palm along her cheek and forced her to look at him. “You can’t say it anymore, can you.”

Michele Hauf 84 “Say what.” “That you love me. Come on, Scarlet, look me in the eye and say it. I know you can’t.” She looked into his black eyes and found it impossible to hold his piercing gaze any longer than a few seconds without feeling the strain of their relationship fighting to tear her away. If only I knew you, Sebastian. What you are about, who you are, and what you were. I don’t understand my own vampirism, and until I do, I’ll never begin to understand you. “I do, Sebastian.” Her fidgeting pulled free more than one soft petal, causing the entire rose to separate and disperse into her palm. She could feel his gaze running over her face, waiting her acknowledgment of his worry. When their eyes meet, she saw her face mirrored in the candle glow’s reflections. A brief flash. A reminder her soul was not her own. It had been created by Sebastian’s vampire soul. His sigh wrenched her heart. Scarlet looked away, knowing she couldn’t face him. “I’m going to Gary’s tomorrow

t.” “Really.” Sebastian replied studiously. He had taken to fondling the petals in her lap. night. He has a new girlfriend he wants me to mee

He was saddened at her lack of compassion and it showed, but he tried to turn the other cheek. “And how is Gary doing.” “Oh…he’s better. I’m sure Wild Child will find a new singer soon.”

“What’s this. Is Vince no longer with the group. They seemed fine the other day during the video shoot.” “Gary kicked him out. I’m surprised you hadn’t noticed the changes in their relationship, Sebastian. It was a mutual thing. Wild Child wasn’t happy with the direction Vince was trying to take them. This is a good thing for all involved now that I think on it.” Sebastian nodded and settled back against the bench, stretching his arms across the iron filigree. “I see. Well, that’s lovely. I wonder when they were going to let me know.” “It just happened. I’m sure Gary was going to tell you, but…well…you know, it was a sudden thing.” “Hmm. I wonder if they’ll want to put the video out with Vince in it. And what about Vince.” Scarlet detected the strange curiosity in Sebastian’s voice. Why did I have to bring him up. She tossed a spray of petals across the lawn. “What about Vince.” “I mean, how is he. “ “I don’t—how would you—why would you assume I knew anything about Vince.” “I was just wondering.” He crossed his arms over his chest and stretched his legs out across the grass, crushing the delicate petals beneath his boots. “You’ve been living and breathing the story of his blood relatives. I thought perhaps you had talked to Vince.” “Well, I…I know he’s found some new friends.” Her heart choked as it was squeezed by an invisible hand, very similar to the feeling she had felt outside Rico’s mansion. Scarlet ignored the sensations. She knew Sebastian could read her emotions. “Umm… Gary told me. They’re vampires.” “Vampires.” This seemed to interest Sebastian, though he immediately recovered his curiosity by nodding and looking off past the wall of yews Anthony had been

pruning into Wicked Angels - Sequel to Dark Rapture 85 submission. “That’s fortunate for Vince. God knows he could use a companion who understands him.” “Yes.” Scarlet’s heart beat rapidly. A companion. Wasn’t that what you wanted to do. Learn more about Vince, understand him. Yeah, but you didn’t have to let him kiss you. “I’m going to go in, it’s still damp out here from the rain, I don’t like it…” “Scarlet.” She stopped behind the bench, waiting Sebastian’s inquisition, wishing she had the courage to just keep on walking.

iss me before you go in, will you.” She brushed stray hairs from her face and turned to her lover’s arms. A kiss “K

was a simple enough request. Isn’t that all Esmarelda had wished. But as she bent to Sebastian and his lips touched hers she was struck by a disturbing thought. These were not Vince Lyon’s lips. And why should she even care. But she did. “Good evening, Sebastian.” Scarlet slipped away to the house passing Anthony on the way. “Will you still be wanting the wine, sir. Is Scarlet retiring so soon.” Sebastian picked up the discarded flowers and pressed them to his chest, feeling if he should hold Scarlet tight that she would bend and break as the roses. “Yes, she is. And no, Anthony, I’m afraid I won’t be needing the wine.” “Forgive me, but is there anything wrong. Are you and Scarlet—” Sebastian’s sigh halted Anthony’s concern. “She is growing further from my life

every hour that I breathe, Anthony.” He wrapped his hand about the flower heads and twisted, tossing the beheaded stems to the ground.

Michele Hauf 86 Chapter Fourteen Spain, 13th century The coffin lid creaked open in a slow yawn. It was midnight. Adriano could sense it in his blood. A chill ran throughout his body, signaling he must feed. He could recall the image of his wife last night as he left her lying on the wolf’s fur coverlet. She had given of her passions so freely, never asking for anything in return. Save for love. And he did love her. But he had been near starvation. His blood hunger grew uncontrollable and he had raped her of her blood, drinking greedily of the precious liquid that was mead down his throat, never wavering as her body began to wilt and fall motionless in his arms. He had taken too much. And he wasn’t even sure if she still lived. It would serve me justly if she is dead. He did not deserve such a precious treasure as Esmarelda’s love. After all the innocence he had destroyed he deserved nothing more than death itself. But if only it were possible. I could walk out into the sun. Yes. But before I do that, I must go. I must look upon her one last time. If they haven’t already carted her away to the coffin maker’s shack. “Damn this curse! Why did I not take my own life years ago instead of allowing

all this pain. So many have suffered because of me.” He passed by Paquita on the way up the stairs. She spoke not a word, as usual, except she did not lower her head in a subservient gesture. No, this time she stared straight into his

say, how dare you.

eyes, her own hazel eyes seeming to How dare you take such a precious life. Finally she mumbled, “She grasps dearly for life. I have alerted Rogero.” “Very good,” Adriano was able to answer, then rushed quickly upward so Paquita would not see his tears. The candle near her bed had burned down to a wide puddle of tan tallow and the flame fought for life as much as Esmarelda did. She let out a tiny gasp as Adriano sat beside her and tried to lift her hand to him. Seeing her struggle, Adriano pressed his lips to her hand and then to her mouth. “Do not try to move, my lady. You will tire yourself.” A tiny smirk curled her parched lips. “I have gone beyond tired, my lord. Death…sits upon my shoulders.” “My love.” “Do you…truly love me.” “With all my heart. I wish things could be different. For once in my life I truly feel the power of the witch’s curse. My love is dying, and I am unable to stop it.” He buried his face in her hair, it was dry and brittle, the life having been literally sucked away by him. “If only I could change things,” he whispered. “If only—” Wicked Angels - Sequel to Dark Rapture 87 “You can, my lord. Change…” She choked and her rasping breath crossed Adriano’s

hand. “Change…me.” Adriano stopped the flow of tears and looked into his wife’s eyes. “Change you into a vampyre.” “Sí, make…me…like you. Give to me eternity so…I may…spend the rest of… my days with the man…I love. Can you do it.” “Perhaps.” Adriano stood and paced the room, pausing momentarily to stare across Esmarelda’s wilted figure. Change her. Now why had he never thought of that before. Surely it was possible. There were rumored many more vampyres on this earth. Change her! But could he. How else had the rest of the vampyres been created. It was certain they had not received a witch’s curse as he. “Sí!” He dashed to her side and hugged her so tightly she let out a painful gasp. “We must try. But you must swear to me if it works you will tell no one. The people of the castle would never forgive me if I were to work the curse upon one so innocent. They would be outraged. Do you promise me.” “The devil take my soul, I would promise anything to have eternity with you, my lord husband.” ***** Los Angeles, present Scarlet stepped inside the black walls of the hallway and headed for the candlelight in the main rooms of the Decadence. She found an empty stool and ordered a vodka-seven, trying not to be too obvious, though she felt as though the whole crowd had turned to stare at her entrance.

A live band pumped tenacious rhythms to the crowd. Scarlet thanked the heavens Sebastian and Gary hadn’t decided to play such obnoxious music. But as she relaxed the music began to wear on her and she found the beat alarmingly sensual. The beat of a donor’s heart pumping for her to take them. Boom. Boom. Boom. Take me. Taste my life. Discover the mysteries of my…death. Had Adriano done it. Changed Esmarelda into a vampyre so they could forever be in each others arms. “I hope so,” she whispered. For as much as she questioned her own vampirism, she was thankful she had a mate to share the many years ahead of them.

So why are you here now. Vince had called this afternoon urging her to meet him again. Scarlet had agreed reluctantly. She couldn’t jar the feeling that Vince wanted more from her than information from the diaries. He had freely admitted his interest in her, which was a damn good reason for her to stay away from him. But she hadn’t refused. Again that odd feeling she should go—do something, almost, keep an eye on Vince—had come over her. It was as if Esmarelda spoke from the pages of the Michele Hauf 88 diaries. For reasons unknown to Scarlet she felt compelled to do this for the woman who haunted the pages of a mildew-laced diary. Scarlet scanned the room. Images of the previous night flashed in time with the music. Watching Vince take a victim into his arms, cooing and reassuring her all was well. She had

thought it wrong, violent and sinful, as Vince’s victim had wilted in his arms and the blonde singer had sucked her life into his body. She had wanted to run then, to leave the scene of the crime before she could be considered an accomplice. But something had made her turn back for one more look. And tonight she knew what that something was. Curiosity. There was a certain electricity, a shiver in the air about her that kept her senses heightened and her body alert to every touch or accidental brush of another’s clothes. It was like the insufferable torment that came from a lover’s teasing tongue, one that would linger, and never delve further until her body was near the edge. Another image flickered in Scarlet’s mind. It was of Rico Bellange as he moved closer, his eyes darting back and forth across hers, his breath waiting for the precise moment when he would see the fear. He was a beast stalking its prey, following at a distance, close enough to be known and feared, but lingering far enough away to cause some confidence of escape. Scarlet swallowed. After living with Sebastian for a year and never knowing the excitement, the nervous verve that accompanied the stalked victim, she could certainly understand Vince’s attraction to Rico. But evil shadowed Rico’s eyes. Scarlet would be cautious of the man, but he was unavoidable if she were to continue on the track she had set. The music switched to a steady, slow beat that pulled couples to the dance floor where they meshed together in vile embraces. So many times she had watched Wild Child play on-stage, focusing solely on the lovely blonde man who held the crowd in his fists with each shimmering note, each toss of his head, every flash of his wicked blue eyes, and every snarl that changed to a

mischievous grin. And now…after his kiss last night…and Rico’s capture of her fear… Don’t say it. Don’t even think it. But I do. She wanted more. The black walls sparkled with thousands of dripping wax lights each set into elaborate gold sconces. Many of the faces were buried against in the face of another, tasting the mouths, the eyes, the breasts of the other, caught up in a maniac frenzy of lust, desire and the pounding demands of the demented music. A flash of platinum hair caught the candle glow, up in the balcony, before shivering back into the shadows. He was up there.

pped down into the

Scarlet ste bowels of the Decadence. The marble stairs to the balcony were just across the room. She fingered the polished silver banister and slipped into the shadows. The balcony led to a darkened room echoing with moans and whispers, secrets and exposed flesh, carnal passion. Another shiver ran across Scarlet’s shoulders, that of desire. Just ahead, nestled between two marble columns, stood Vince, his lanky body halfkissed by candlelight, the other half shrouded by the fierce red dress of a woman whom he Wicked Angels - Sequel to Dark Rapture 89 held by the neck as his kisses traveled across her chest and worked into the depths of her cleavage. Scarlet froze. A whiff of hot flame and sweat whispered past her nose. What was he doing with another woman if he had invited her here. She stepped back into the shadows, but couldn’t leave. She didn’t want to. Once Vince saw her he would push the girl

away. Wouldn’t he. Scarlet looked down the glossy gray marble stairs. I should leave. Sebastian’s voice shouted in her ear. You’ve got to play by the rules, Scarlet. No. Anthony sat on the countertop, sipping his lemonade. You are in control. Do not judge a man until you’ve lived his life for a year. If Esmarelda were here she would raise her head and push fear away. Scarlet turned back to the flickering shadows and locked eyes with Vince. His mouth continued to rove across the woman’s breasts. When Scarlet thought to look away, Vince reached down and pulled the woman tight to his body, smirking lazily as Scarlet bit hard on her lip. She held his stare, feeling her heart race. She was a voyeur, observing another man’s teasing passions, obeying his silent pleas to watch and to surrender her inhibitions. The urge to rush forward and rip the woman from his arms curled her fingers, but she held back, feeding the desire.

e of flesh, devoured the woman’s thick red lips with aggressive kisses. And as her eyes lowered over their embrace, This man, this beautifully sinful piec

Scarlet could feel Vince’s hard torso pressed against hers, and the blood flowed to her groin. Vince’s clear blue eyes fixed on her, issuing a silent challenge as he shifted and turned their bodies so Scarlet could view them from the side. He walked his mouth down into the crease between the woman’s breasts and began to nip and bite, much to her pleasure. And now Scarlet realized the glint she caught dancing about the woman’s neck

and chest wasn’t a piece of shining jewelry. It was Vince’s teeth mining for the vein. He smiled wickedly, nudging his nose along the woman’s breast and parting his lips as if prepared to defend what was rightfully his. A child playing a game. Motionless, Scarlet watched Vince tease the woman with his hands, his mouth, his entire body. He teased her, too. And he knew it. It was all a part of the game. She inhaled deeply, knowing when she did her breasts rose and bulged over the top of her black lace dress. Yes. He saw. The music pulsed slower, crowding Scarlet’s ravaged thoughts with a sensual haunt that threatened to push her over the edge. She held her breath as Vince pushed the woman away from his tormented body and tossed his head to the side, gesturing she should leave. The woman turned toward Scarlet. Her lip snarled up into a defiant challenge. Scarlet held her ground. “Leave.” “But—” “You heard the lady,” Vince said with a nudge of his knee to the woman’s leg. She stomped away, roughly buffing her shoulder against Scarlet’s as she passed by. Solemn and defiant, Vince’s liquid eyes dared Scarlet to venture into his world of unholy rapture. Filling the space of the woman, she stood nose to nose with the lust-hungry vampire. He smelled of smoke and sweat and of unsatisfied desires. Michele Hauf 90 Without considering the implications, Scarlet parted her lips and ran her tongue over them. Waiting. Vince pressed his lips together, proud of the animal fangs displayed only to her beneath the shivering flames of candlelight. His eyes trailed down her face, watching as her lips

nervously quivered, seeming quite satisfied with her reaction. They wandered across her breasts and as far down as he could see without moving his head, and then he flashed back up to her eyes. Still he said nothing. Maddened with desire, she wanted him to kiss her. Scarlet shifted forward on her feet and brought her body close to his so she could feel the hard metal buttons on his jeans against her groin and the billowing silk of his shirt feather across her bare arms. Still the defiant stare. She moved into him, pressing her knee between his parted legs and her chest against his. A tremorous shiver engulfed her body as they touched and Scarlet felt sure it ran through Vince’s body, too. He reached behind her and pushed her hips into him. As he held her there, so masterfully, she could feel his erection pumping hard against her thigh. It was his turn. He

e willfully relinq

had taken charge and sh uished control. Cool fangs pressed to her lips. His kiss, hot, firm and demanding, sucked savagely at her mouth. She let her body melt into his and took greedily from him, delighting as his sharp teeth grazed over her lips, slashing the delicate flesh so he was able to suck small sips of her blood into his mouth. “I’m sorry about last night,” she whispered. “I freaked. I felt so guilty all of a sudden. But I’ve been thinking all day…” His needle-prick kisses teased the vein on her neck, bringing her senses to an extreme alert. “I…want to know what it’s like…to taste death,” she whispered, surprising herself. “Let’s go.” Vince walked past her, and without looking back, exited the Decadence.

Wicked Angels - Sequel to Dark Rapture 91 Chapter Fifteen A steady downpour of cool rain smattered the alleyway and their bodies as Vince led Scarlet through the darkened puddles. He walked ahead of her, determination quickening his strides. He hadn’t turned to see if she would follow even as he started down the dark street. He could have taken her in the club. She would have been easy, and so sweet. Sebastian’s mistress come to him in search of the ultimate obsession. His way of life. Tonight I will bring Scarlet over to my side, he thought. Take her away from Sebastian’s stupid rules. Scarlet is a beautiful, free spirit. She doesn’t deserve to be sheltered and hoarded by one man, not learning there is more to her miserable condition then taking little sips, preserving life, and never killing. He had known she would turn to the dark side. She had run off the other night, but not without one last look over the forbidden. Vince stopped and waited until he felt Scarlet’s arm brush alongside his, wet flesh to rain-drenched silk. It was hard to control his desires. But not much longer. He pointed to the roof where his vampire senses had sniffed out prey. “Where.” she asked. She sniffed the air, closing her eyes, and Vince resisted the urge to touch the shimmering crystals that trickled from her eyelids. “Yes, I can smell him now.” Scarlet joined him. “He’s young and alone.” Vince spoke firmly but softly, “There’s no turning back, Scarlet. I’m taking you over to the dark side tonight. You have to really want this.” He looked up across the rooftops and then back down, his eyes focusing past her on the horizon. “Or else I don’t want to have

anything to do with you anymore.” His ultimatum surprised her. Gone was the shy, quiet man who saved his outbursts of emotion for the stage. Since being initiated into the vampire’s life Vince had gained confidence and maturity and a very wicked edge. He was still quiet, but when he spoke his words commanded you listen. His eyes spoke of the horrors he had endured over his lifetime, his passions displayed in the gleam of blackness that circled his blue eyes. But she wanted his trust; she needed him to accept her. Go back! Stop! You love Sebastian! This is not the way to learn. Scarlet glanced around, searching the source of the nagging pleas. A slick-winged raven cawed and flit its wings. The streetlight flickered, threatening to darken the night. “I’ll go by myself,” she said, pushing her nagging inner voice away without a second thought. The building was two stories high. An easy jump

as she bent

her knees and her feet left the ground. “I’ll watch.” Scarlet stepped down onto the roof, not seeing her prey, but knowing he was on the other side of the stairs. Vince appeared behind her and sat on the edge of the roof, one leg dangling precariously over the silent alleyway. “Don’t be afraid,” he whispered as she slunk around the four-walled enclosure that surrounded the roof stairs. A circular air vent whirred lazily and the smell of old tar, fresh rain and bird droppings wafted up from the floor of the roof. Michele Hauf 92

Afraid. she thought. How can I be when I’m feeling what I’m feeling. Vince’s kiss in the bar had stoked the fire. Now she wanted to know what he was about, to taste his experiences. I want to come over to the dark side. She was almost to the other side of the roof when the boy jerked around, surprised at first, but then his features softened and he grinned to see a beautiful woman dressed in sexy black lace standing before him. The boy was very young, maybe sixteen or seventeen. A rolled joint smoked in one hand, shielded from the mist by his cupped palm. He gestured for her to sit next to him. He wore tattered jeans and a flannel shirt. Probably lives on the street, she thought. But beyond the silly macho smile and the dirty clothes lived a virile young body that pumped with rich red blood. Scarlet could hear the quiet swish as his blood rushed through his veins, matching only the vigorous beat of the rain against the metal air vent. The scent of his life permeated his soiled clothes, enticing her closer. She bent before him and took his cigarette away, flicking it over the side of the roof in a spray of orange sparks. “Where’d you come from, lady. Heaven.” “Only angels come from heaven,” she said. “Unless they’re wicked angels.” Only Scarlet heard Vince’s whisper. The fact the boy was young and dressed so shabbily made him the complete opposite of Sebastian. How quickly you forget. She leant closer to allow him to finger the ends of her slippery hair. There was no reluctance as her heart pumped in anticipation of discovery. A raven landed on the roof ledge. Gold eyes the size of peas captured Scarlet’s attention. You’re not ready for the adrenaline rush. Be gentle, you’ll learn that later. Sucking in the corner of her lip, Scarlet bit down gently as she mustered up the

courage. The blood hunger was not rampant. She didn’t need this boy’s blood. But the curiosity and Vince’s presence, pushed her into action. “Do you want me to kiss you.” was her innocent inquiry. “Damn,” he whispered and roughly pulled her down, gnashing his lips against hers as he inexpertly took her and forced his tongue into her mouth. His breath was smoky and stale and Scarlet forced herself to remain calm instead of pushing him away and running. He had already started to feel her body, inexpertly moving his hands over her hips and waist and squeezing her breasts . “Wait, lover.” She pushed him down into the slashing shadows of the rotating air vent. Sex with a teenage boy was not on her list of thrills. Vince sat out of eyesight on the other side of the stairway. She could hear his shallow breath, sense his growing arousal, and taste his wicked kiss in the cuts on her lips. Yes, it was time. She could do this. Anthony’s word

s reverberated

in her mind. You are in control. Take the first step. “You will be my first,” she cooed as she bent to his neck and willed her teeth to her bidding. “No kidding. I can’t believe it.” He squirmed beneath her as she pinned his hands to his sides with her knees. With the entrance of her sharpened weapons, the boy’s body jerked and his fingers balled into claws beneath her knees. She held him tight, lifting his throat to her mouth, and closed her eyes as his life swirled through her body. He lurched to climax swiftly and fainted in her arms, his

Wicked Angels - Sequel to Dark Rapture 93 body becoming heavy but quite unnoticeable as his blood brought Scarlet’s arousal to extreme heights and the swoon began. He was so good. His blood as sweet as any else. When she reached the point of fulfillment, Scarlet paused, feeling the steady beat of his heart pump beneath her fingertips. Vince’s presence remained an irresistible force that matched her own passions and beckoned her further. Do this. If she was to learn anything of Vince and herself tonight, she had to do this. She resumed her task and tried to think of nothing but the sensations of the blood rush as the boy’s body went limp and his heart slipped into death’s clutches. The force of his death hit like an explosion to the brain as his slowing heart suddenly shuddered into a frenzy and then burst. Scarlet reeled backward, her teeth ripping long gashes in his flesh. She rolled to all fours, swaying as the blood pounded through her body and the blood orgasm engulfed her soul. Everything turned black and then white, and then all colors at the same time. The features of the roof were indiscernible, the air vent, circling lazily in the downpour, was a blur as the boy’s stolen life screamed through her body. Scarlet searched the rooftop and scanned the night, not sure where she was anymore. She reached out, but her hand wavered and was unable to grasp anything tangible as her body swayed. She slipped and fell…into the cradling arms of Vince Lyons. “Did you ever imagine it could be that good.” he whispered as she balled herself into his lap. Scarlet shuddered as the last effects of the boy’s blood coursed through her body. The raindrops snapped against her face. “His life…” She struggled to right herself but fell against

Vince’s chest. He clutched a thick bundle of her hair and brought it to his face. “I’ve killed him.” Vince whispered quickly, “You must never regret, Scarlet.” The rapture began to subside. She fitted herself up against Vince’s body. They were

gether. Her eyes saw a bit clearer now. The night had both soaked to the flesh, their wet clothes melding them to

become darker, the rooftops masked in shadows from spindly palm trees. Just over her shoulder the boy lie inert, his head cocked unnaturally to the side, exposing the violence she had worked on his neck. It was unbearable to look, to know she had taken the life of one so young and unknowing only to feed her curious desire. But as another powerful shudder shook her body she turned back to Vince. He leaned over her and she heard the metallic click of his switchblade and saw the flashing steel. “This way no one will ever know,” he said and ripped the blade across the boy’s neck. There was no turning back. She couldn’t change what she had done, nor could she grant life to the boy whose soul she had stolen into her own. “Oh, no.” Scarlet remembered Sebastian’s warning about killing. To take a victim’s life was to steal their very soul. Souls laced with the nightmares of their dreams and realities. Nightmares that would haunt the killing vampire for days to follow. A choked sigh escaped the boy’s lips and Scarlet jerked around to watch through blurry eyes as his last breath was released to the cool night air. Looking over his street dress and disheve

led hair she imagined he may have

lived many nightmares in his short lifetime and

Michele Hauf 94 wondered how soon it would be before she became intensely aware of them. She pressed her eyes tight, fighting the remorse. Cool shivers overtook her limbs as Vince’s hand fell to the crook of her elbow and then feathered along her arm to entwine into her fingers. She turned to speak, but caught his mouth over hers. He pushed her to the roof floor, cradling her head in his hand. He pushed her saturated skirt up her legs and she heard successive pops of the buttons on his jeans as they were released. “Vince, wait. I…I can’t. I can’t betray Sebastian. I’ve never—” He looked beyond her to the boy. “The betrayal has already begun.” He pulled the shoulders of her dress down to her elbows and grazed his fangs along the inner curves of her breasts, causing her to tense with desire. All traces of the blood swoon were erased by Vince’s actions. Scarlet pushed him away, regretting immediately her actions. To kill was one thing. But to allow another man to take her as only Sebastian could… The rain had started to subside, yet thick droplets dripped from Vince’s forehead to her chest. “Do you love him.” he whispered urgently. Scarlet pulled her skirt down over her thighs and tried to shimmy from beneath his body but her hand slipped into the pool of watery blood that puddled beneath the boy’s crooked smile. “Do you love him!” “Yes…” she whispered in short breaths, heaving beneath Vince’s body. He kissed her again and she pulled his head down, grinding her lips to his. She wasn’t sure what she wanted. Her body worked on automatic while her mind fought for

control. You can never betray Sebastian. Yes you can! You want the sinister excitement Vince offers. No! “Please, Vince.” He trailed his mouth down her chest, biting deep into her breast. “No!” She struggled from his grasp and pushed away but Vince wasn’t about to relinquish his prize. He pinned her wrists to the rooftop above her head and her hands became flooded with the boy’s blood. In her struggles she looked to the side, seeing the lopsided grin of death inches from her face. “This is wrong!” Using the force of her elbows, Scarlet pushed and sent Vince flying backward. He hit the air vent with a clunk. “I do love him,” she whispered, and pulled the sleeves of her dress up. She paused near the roof ledge and turned back to Vince. “I will never betray Sebastian that way. Never.” ***** Crimson ruffles swished through the air, floating above the stone floor in a rage of shivering silk. She was tilted over the stranger’s arm again, his lovely dançar imortalidade. But this time the guitar player looked up from h

is concentration.

Wicked Angels - Sequel to Dark Rapture 95 He saw now that she screamed and reached out for him, pleading for rescue. But he couldn’t reach her. He tried desperately to throw his guitar to the side but it

remained in his lap as if glued to his hands. The stranger laughed as he bent to her neck and the guitar player saw fangs glint brightly as they plunged into her neck. Her screams were deafening. Frightened. Confused. Suddenly her struggles ceased. The stranger cocked his head to the side, grinning widely at the guitarist. Vince! Anthony held the car door open. Inside the dark interior of the vehicle Sebastian clenched his fist until he felt sure the veins would burst. His nails burned against his palm. But the pain did not revert the cataclysmic shock to his heart. “Sebastian.” “Ahhh…” Sebastian sucked the air through clenched teeth and mumbled. “A moment, please.” “Is…is it Scarlet.” It could be no one else. “Where is she.” Sebastian whispered quickly. “Um…I don’t know. I thought she was at Gary’s tonight.” “I have a feeling—” Sebastian stepped out onto the cement floor, his hand pressed over his chest. His heart could slip out and fall to the ground, shatter like a clay pot “—that she is not.” Michele Hauf 96 Chapter Sixteen Spain, 13th century “You must return before sunrise.” “Or else what.” Esmarelda sat a dutiful pupil near her husband’s feet. The transformation had worked. She was now like Adriano. A vampyre. A creature of the night, a beast. None of the labels mattered. For now she would be with Adriano forever. And forever

they would far outlive and surpass the superstitions and fears of the castle inhabitants. “I’m told the sun will burn our flesh,” Adriano said calmly in his deep, soulstroking voice. Esmarelda felt she could listen to him speak forever. Watch his lips move with each word, subtly forming his instructions, returning images of his kisses to her mind… The touch of his finger beneath her chin startled Esmarelda out of her reverie. “Are you listening to me, my lady. You must heed my words or you shall never survive.” “Forgive me. I was listening, I just—” “Than what did I just say.” Say. Before she started dreaming about his kiss, or after. “Esmarelda.” “Something about the sun,” she said, coyly drawing her finger down the black hose on her husband’s leg. “Oh, I know all the rumors and folklore, husband. Sun and garlic and wooden stakes made of the ash tree, they can all kill a vampyre. And now I possess great command of my mind, am able to move inanimate objects only by thought. Creatures of the forest will heed my commands. We’ve been talking since midnight. It’s almost sunrise. I do so wish we could spend the remainder of the morning in each other’s arms.” He feathered a kiss along her hairline, lingering like a hummingbird near her ear. “Very well. Tomorrow I shall teach you how to take blood without your victim being the wiser. And after that there is something very special. I call it borrow

ed

body traveling. But for the last hour of darkness…” His hand cupped her breast and one finger wandered to tease her nipple. “We’ve better things to do.”

Los Angeles, present Scarlet kicked a pebble across the stone rooftop of the mausoleum and waited for the tiny rustle as it hit the ground below. It chinked, signaling her it had hit one of the tombstones instead of falling to the moist earth. She walked to the edge of the roof and fell to her knees. Before her the moon hung a silver ball suspended in the purple night sky. The mausoleum held special memories for her. All right, maybe not so special, more like strange. This was the place Sebastian had first taken her after changing her to a vampire in hopes of instilling his family history on her and teaching her the few vampire skills he knew. Later, when Francesco had been set on killing her, Sebastian had hidden her inside the mausoleum in the very coffin he had used to travel to America. The idea of being closed up Wicked Angels - Sequel to Dark Rapture 97 inside a dark, dusty stone box had terrified her then. Now, the peace and sanctity beckoned a welcome retreat from her confused thoughts. Visions of the diary had come unfounded this time. They’d assaulted Scarlet as she walked aimlessly away from the city. Like a waking dream she had almost been able to reach forward and touch Adriano as he leant forward for a kiss to his beloved. And the answers were finally beginning to show themselves. This mind control Adriano had spoke of. And the borrowed body traveling. It sounded so exciting! Scarlet felt she teetered on the verge of a fantastic discovery. Her entire being tingled with anticipation. But the diaries were at home, and unless the images came to her again, she would not know the next entry.

“Tell me, Esmarelda. You must tell me,” she pleaded to the cool night air and the crickets harmonizing below. There was more to the vampire life. She now knew it. Much more even than Vince’s dark cravings for the life of innocent mortals. “Oh, Vince.” Her head spun with the blood of the boy. Her first kill, so unknowing and unaware of what her true intentions had been. And afterwards… Vince would have taken her had she not kneed him and scrambled away across the blood-wet rooftop. She had been so close to giving in. To betrayal. “No,” she whispered. But she could not deny she had gone to the Decadence of her own free will. She followed Vince to the rooftop, and no one had pushed her to kiss him after taking the boy’s life. Subconsciously her body had gotten exactly what it craved. Though the actual receipt of said desires was not what she had expected. “Forgive me,” she whispered into the wind. Tears rolled from her eyes. “I love you, Sebastian. You know I do.” “Caw!” “Whoa!” Scarlet spun around, and nearly fell from the roof. One foot slipped over the side of the mausoleum but she pawed the roof and pulled herself back up. “What the heck.” A huge raven sat calmly examining her struggles, its yellow eyes glowing

horescently in the night. Scarlet reached out for the bird but it reared and backed away, phosp

not even spreading its wings for flight. Its claws cracked across stray pieces of twig and loose stone. “Don’t want me to touch you, huh. Well, fine. Haven’t I seen you somewhere before. Like…on the rooftop. Oh!”

An invisible gut-wrenching blow to the stomach pulled Scarlet’s head down to her knees. Forced into a ball, she rolled to her side, moaning as an unexpected pain engulfed her body, rushing up to her temples at a screaming pace and inhabiting her thoughts with darkness. The seizure took hold of her body with such force she felt sure it was actually happening to her. Cradling her body in shaking arms, Scarlet opened her eyes, trying to see the trees and the sky but she was blind to all but the pain. A flashing thought that this was a nightmare, a remnant of the boy’s life still clinging for one last breath, hit her. She felt hot drool slip over her numb lip. An electric wave shocked repeatedly through her spinal column. Michele Hauf 98 There were people standing above. Boys and girls, men and women, towered like giants from her point of view. They stood curiously watching, some taunting and clutching their stomachs as laughter spewed from their mouths. Others merely laid a hand aside their jaw and shook their heads woefully. She tried to reach out but her fingers curled into tight claws around her body. “Help…m-me,” she muttered. The spell shattered. The sound of her own voice brought her back to reality. Scarlet lay flat on the roof of the mausoleum, her arms stretched to her sides, her legs splayed out. The raven spread out one wing and repositioned it with a soft flutter to its body. “My God,” she whispered. “That poor boy. Seizures. He was an epileptic. Ohhh.” She curled into a ball, burying her face into her hands. “I can’t do this again, Vince. I don’t like this. It’s not right. He was too young to die.”

“Caw,” the raven agreed. Scarlet filed through the countless dozens of dancing and gabbing bodies populating Rico’s mansion, surprised that Vince hadn’t mentioned the party earlier. She would never find him in this tangle of people. But she couldn’t go home to Sebastian yet. She hadn’t worked up the courage. And she needed to talk to Vince. To end things. He had to know their relationship could go no further than friendship. And a small part of her still felt she had the power to somehow rescue Vince from the troubled path he had chosen. What a night for a party, she thought, feeling not in the least the party urge after experiencing the boy’s nightmare. Blake’s band was set up just inside the patio doors and he and two others—vampires, she presumed—were playing a loud, obnoxious piece. She wondered what the neighbors thought, knowing Brentwood was mostly older, rich people who preferred a good symphony to a screaming rock song. Vince was nowhere in sight, which Scarlet thought strange because he would never give up a chance to sing. Brushing past two men whom she was surprised to sense, were vampires, Scarlet started down the hallway that led to the studio. The only place she could think Vince would be. There were a good amount of mortals mixed in the crowd. She knew that as a giggling woman faltered in the hallway and braced herself against Scarlet’s body before staggering

main room. Pure m

back into the ortal. No telltale vampiric shimmer. Awful smelling perfume. As she drew further down the hall, an uneasy foreboding fell over her, not unlike the

heavy feeling she had when she had come down this way with Vince before. She was sure it was the people who caused it. Each so alive and vital, dancing and partying and drinking without a care or worry, none aware a handful would be chosen by the family as the evening’s festivities. She passed by a door on her right, open to reveal an interior of decadent black and red. The room’s luxuriousness was fuddled with the loud peel of heavy metal screaming. A peek inside found no signs of Vince. But that looked like Rowdy’s curls crushed against the breasts of a woman across the room. Wicked Angels - Sequel to Dark Rapture 99 Scarlet walked on, leaving the loud music behind. She began to feel a strange beckoning. As if invisible fingers stretched out to her, begging her to follow. It pulled her farther from the noise, down toward the end of the hallway where she found herself standing in a T-turn, knowing she had gone too far, but also knowing she should turn right instead of left. She glanced back toward the main room. No one noticed her standing alone so she slipped down the narrow unlit passageway, rifling through her coat to find the lighter she always carried. There were no electrical lights or candelabras this way but enough light still

faded in from the main hallway. Scarlet followed her instincts and the strange feeling of sadness that beckoned, taking a few turns and avoiding adjoining hallways until she finally stopped atop a stairway of rough

cement. The cool air that crept up the cracked steps was strangely enticing, much like the enveloping chill that tempts you into the refrigerator on a hot summer day. The horrific worry over the night’s encounter with Vince had left Scarlet. But the sadness lingered, a silent whisper floating in her mind, inhabiting her muscles and pulling her down the steps. As she neared the bottom step a flick of her lighter proved there to be a door ajar. It was cold to the touch. A stagnant odor wafted outward, sharp and strong as it curled inside her nostrils. Knowing she was snooping, that she had no right to be doing this, Scarlet stepped back up the stairs until she could see floor level. There was no one down the lengthy hallway she had come. The heavy pounding music vibrated like a breathing entity coursing through the walls. Without a second thought, she turned back and stepped down to the door. The door was thick, almost six inches of stone, but she was able to slip between the crack and into the room. A powerful blow hit her in the gut. It wasn’t a physical blow. More like a sensory assault. A stench captured her olfactories and twisted them into a coil. Rotten decay, a sour sickness, forced her gut into a whirlwind. Scarlet staggered forward through the total darkness, her feet stepping on some matter that seemed to ooze away from her, and reached blindly for anything that would steady her. There was a buzzing, very minute, but she noticed its presence as she gagged and attempted to fumble for the lighter. From behind, scraping of stone across stone alerted her. Scarlet turned just in time to hear the door close in an echoing thunder. “Shit!” She stumbled backwards, swallowing vainly in an attempt to keep the

contents of her stomach where they belonged. Again she stepped on something that seemed to ooze away as she felt the cold stone door. There was a wooden handle. She pulled with all her unnatural vampire strength, but it wouldn’t budge. “This is impossible. I should be able to open this.” With shaking fingers she dug into the depths of her pocket and felt the lighter. Closing her eyes tight, she flicked the tiny instrument and felt its heat warm her hand. Scarlet opened her eyes and scanned the room, finding she was drawn to what lay all over the floor. She screamed and jumped forward, clambering for the opposite side of the tiny vault. Her stomach gave up half way. When she could only gag, she staggered to the far side of the room where she felt the cold iron that manacled yet another door. Michele Hauf 100 With eyelids shut tight, she held the lighter before her, daring not to look. Her nose

nted what was strew

vividly pai n about the cold floors of this hideous basement room she found herself locked into. Forcing herself to breathe deeply, she concentrated on calming her fears before flicking the lighter. It glimmered dully before her, blinding her for a second, until she moved it lower. There were bodies everywhere, recklessly tossed about and left to decay. A garbage dump for the family’s victims. Daring to glance quickly from one body to the next she saw all stages of decomposition, from bones and ashes to glistening white pallor and bloated yellow and green flesh. She saw

now what the minute buzzing was. In one corner where it seemed the freshest kill had been laid, a handful of flies buzzed about the flesh-torn eyes of what had once been a lovely redhaired woman. The sight of plump white maggots birthing from the woman’s nostrils caused a new wave of panic. Scarlet’s thumb slipped off the lighter wheel. Feeling behind her, she pressed her cheek to the rough wood door and felt around for the knob, finding a square opening nose level. She thrust the lighter through the opening and saw, to her relief, no bodies in the adjoining room, only thick darkness and bare floors. She felt at the padlock. It was thick and cold but the rusted mechanism gave easily with a fervent twist from her powerful hands. Wicked Angels - Sequel to Dark Rapture 101 Chapter Seventeen Spain, 13th century Flames set the midnight sky afire with a wash of red fury. Esmarelda could feel the heat pressing upon the fur of her cheek as she neared the castle walls. She quickly released the body of the she-wolf she had borrowed and resumed her own. A hasty thank you was lost in the wind. The wolf scampered away with one last glance over the wreckage. The north wall had been smashed in and crumbled to the ground while the interior wooden structure burned to cinders before Esmarelda’s eyes. There was no one about. Not a stray animal, nor a villager fleeing the raging fire. “Why.” she whispered as she sped faster across the rocky land toward the blazing

structure. “Where have they all gone.” And then a realization hit with the blow of a hammer to the stake. The villagers had finally taken revenge. “No!” Esmarelda scrambled over the fallen castle wall, her skirts catching and pulling her down into the simmering rubble. “Adriano!” She screamed until her throat was sore, but her voice could not be heard over the roar of the wicked flames. The fire snapped and hissed at her as she picked her way through the piled fieldstones. A beam from the great hall fell from the ceiling in a crash before her. Esmarelda fell back across the stones, her back catching the fall in a stinging crunch. Pray God he is not inside, she thought. Please, let him be safe! She had risen early this evening. Adriano had a habit of sleeping well close to midnight before he rose. Esmarelda had traveled for what she figured had been dozens of miles, so delighted she was that the wolf’s strength afforded her swift earth movement. She hadn’t

pent dashing through the forests, racing across the open plains, reveling in her freedom, her utter lucidity with the even fed. No, the early evening hours had been s

world. In the wolf’s body, all senses were heightened. Sensations she’d always felt she knew became new and exquisite. The forests brewed with an abundance of textures and flavors and sounds. Flowers were no longer one color, their petals burst forth in three dimensional shapes and smells. And then she had felt a sharp chill pierce her heart. Something was wrong. The smell of smoke led her home to the castle. Home to a horrific sight. “I must find him!” she screamed into the raging blaze. “Adriano!”

***** Los Angeles, present “Hey Rico,” Vince waved the master of the house down as he passed by. “You see Scarlet.” Rico settled onto the suede couch next to Vince, finding the man quite drunk. Not from alcohol either, he was extremely drunk on the blood the family provided for every party they held. Rico had watched Vince gorge on two beauties earlier in the entertainment room before wandering down the hallway after the curious little bitch. “Can’t say that I have seen her,” he lied. “You two have a date tonight.” Michele Hauf 102 Vince shrugged and cast a sheepish grin towards the ceiling. He was wasted, totally high on adrenaline. “Nah, Rowdy told me he thought he saw her. Can’t imagine why she’d come here after— Ah, well…” he trailed off, his head falling happily to Rico’s shoulder. “If I see her I’ll let her know you’re looking for her.” Vince floated his cloud in seventh heaven. “Cool.” ***** Once inside the inner room, the scent of rotting corpses permeated the hole in the door, but it was noticeably less vile. Scarlet breathed deeply as she stepped toward the center. The only thing in the room was a massive stone sarcophagus, which had been bound tightly with the use of thick chains whose links were the size of her fist. Eight streams of the linked metal ran from bolts in the floor, over the coffin and back down to the other side where

they had been securely bolted, for years possibly. Seeing the flame simmer to a low orb, Scarlet knew with a shake of the lighter she had little butane left. She looked around. There was a small window near the ceiling where three iron bars sifted beams of moonlight across the floor. She glanced back toward the door. As long as the corpses were on the other side, she felt safer. Not in the least comfortable, but she really had no choice. Groping around in the oily darkness, she felt through webs of spider nets, smearing them across her coat with a disgusted shiver. The chains were icy at first touch and surprisingly taunt. She pulled to see if they would give, but stopped, hearing the door in the other room scrape open. Someone had found her. Yes! Vince had come looking for her! She blindly raced toward the adjo

ining door.

“My, but the rats are getting rather large this time of year. I thought I heard something down here.” Having been in total darkness, it took a while for Scarlet to adjust to the candlelight that floated nearer. As it thinned out to a fine flame she was able to see who held the black taper. Rico’s eyes narrowed to slits, though his expression was not angry, more worried. He held out his heavily ringed hand. “Come. The pit is no place for you.” “No place for me.” Scarlet gasped, thankful she could look at Rico and avoid the horrors at her feet. “My God, Rico, what the hell is this. It’s a human garbage dump. Do you have something against burial.” “We’d be digging graves all the time if we were to start that,” he said casually. “Not

exactly practical, nor a welcome to the landscaping, of which I’ve spent quite a lot of money.” A tiny whimper caused Scarlet to jerk her head towards the maggot infested pile in the corner. A blonde girl with brilliant red fingernails had moaned. Scarlet saw her heather-dusted lid flicker. “Rico, that woman is still alive!” “Well now, that’s entirely possible.” He turned and held the candle high. Seeing the same movement Scarlet had spied, he walked over and stamped fiercely on the girl’s head. Her skull cracked, though there was little blood left to spill from the openings. He turned back, casually offering his hand is if there were nothing amiss with the room the two stood in. Wicked Angels - Sequel to Dark Rapture 103 Feeling her stomach begin its hollow gripping again, Scarlet held out a shaky hand. “I can’t believe you, Rico. You’ve no scruples whatsoever.” “Scruples,” he said with a deep-throated chuckle as he received her hand and stepped across an abandoned cadaver. “Aren’t you the one to speak of scruples. Coming here to rendezvous with your lover. Did you have another tryst beneath the willow tree planned.” Scarlet was shocked to hear he had witnessed she and Vince’s little excursion. She tried to pull away from him but he in turn jerked her hand so she tripped forward and stumbled into his arms. “Please, Rico, just get me out of here. I’m—” “Afraid.” “Yes! No! I’m disgusted. How can you live like this.” He wrangled her into his steel embrace. Scarlet beat his chest with her fists. “You are a demented beast!”

Ignoring her judgment of his character, Rico bowed his head to her neck and pressed hard kisses to her skin. “What are you doing. Stop it, this is ridiculous. There are dead bodies everywhere! I want to leave right now.” His lips played across her shoulder bone while he fought vigorously to control her struggles. “And will you not offer me the same affection you give Vince. We are, after all, family. What’s mine is his and what’s his is mine.” “You’re crazy if you think I’m going to let you have me.” “You don’t have much of a choice, lovely one. Vince will not care, or, I think, believe

me. Which he should. I would never betray a friend.” you, should you tell him. He trusts

The word betray slipped like a butcher knife through Scarlet’s heart. She stopped struggling. She had been so close to making love to Vince on the rooftop. So damned close… “Then why are you doing this.” she stuttered. Rico’s breath whispered across her lips as he spoke. “Is it wrong to crave the affections of one so lovely. Since you have already seen fit to betray your lover, I believe you may have declared yourself open and available.” “Let go of me!” She wrenched a hand free from her captor and tried to twist the other out of his grasp. “I did not betray Sebastian!” Rico tried to grab Scarlet’s free arm but she kicked high and the toe of her shoe tore through the pin-striped fabric on Rico’s thigh. He released her and she slipped over to the door. “If you ever touch me again,” she paused by the door, drawing a deep breath into her lungs. “I’ll kill you.”

Without looking back, she ran toward the main hallway, pushing through the crowd. Rock music assaulted her thoughts, scrambling a mixture of dead bodies, Rico’s vile kiss, and Vince’s devious grin into a psychedelic spin of visions. She wanted nothing to do with the horrors of Rico Bellange, or his newest pupil, Vince Lyons. As she started the car and the engine roared loudly she screamed, releasing her pent up frustrations to the air.

Michele Hauf 104 How she got home in her state of mind, she wasn’t sure, but as Scarlet dashed towards the castle entrance and stepped inside the comforts of home she kept repeating one vow over and over. “I’ll never kill again. I’ll never kill again. I’ll never—” “Chèrie.” She turned to see Sebastian gazing curiously at her. He looked a bit haggard, his face abnormally pale and there were deep circles beneath his eyes. She swallowed her heart, which had risen to her throat, and tried to act casual. “What is wrong. You nearly jumped out of your skin.” “Um…nothing,” she answered quickly, glancing up the stairs in an attempt to avoid his curious gaze. “You surprised me…that’s it. I thought you still might be at the studio. I’m fine really. I’m going to my room now.” “You look frazzled. Where were you. I called Gary a few minutes ago, and he said you hadn’t stopped by.” “Yes, well, I was…um…” “He thought you might be with Vince. Is this true, Scarlet. Why would you be

spending time with Vince Lyons instead of your brother. What’s that on your shoe.” He bent his head, as did Scarlet, but her scream halted him before he got a good look. Scarlet shook the greasy maggot from her foot and scrambled toward the stairs, shrieking hysterically. Sebastian reached out but only touched her shirt as she sprinted up the stone stairs. “No! Stay away. I can’t do this! I’ve got to get away from all this death. I promise I’ll never kill again!” “Again.” Sebastian raced up the stairs. “Scarlet wait!”

m door behind her a

She slammed the bathroo nd scrambled out of her dress, feeling as if the tiny grease worms squirmed about her entire body. Her screams turned to havoc and she pulled at her hair, feeling the corpse worms crawling on her scalp and eye sockets like the woman on the floor. She dashed into the shower and flipped the water on as Sebastian entered the room. Hot water burned her flesh. “Chèrie, no, no, what are you doing.” Sebastian twisted the water off and stared helplessly at her as she squirmed and itched and pulled at her hair. “Stop it! Please, Scarlet, you’re scaring me.” He wrapped her in his arms but she pushed away. “Don’t touch me! I have to get them off.” She flipped the water on again. Quickly, Sebastian harnessed Scarlet’s arms to her sides and pulled her from the water. “You’re hurting yourself, chèrie. There is nothing on you!” Scarlet pulled her legs up and pushed against the wall, sending her and Sebastian crashing to the floor. She grabbed a towel and held it to her chest. “Get out! Now! Leave me alone!” As her demands persisted, Sebastian backed out of the bathroom. “All right. I’ll be waiting for you in the study.” Scarlet slammed the door behind him and fell to her knees. Her head went down

to the floor and she scanned the smooth gray stones for anything that was moving or squirming. Satisfied she was safe from the hideous worms, she fell to her side, curled up and sobbed bloody tears into the towel. Wicked Angels - Sequel to Dark Rapture 105 ***** It had been hours. She did not come to him. I’ll never kill again, kept resounding inside Sebastian’s head. Could it be true. He’d never thought Scarlet would do such a thing. While it was her vampire nature to desire the kill, he had tried so desperately to squelch that over the past year. There was no reason for Scarlet to take life, to be ravaged by taunting nightmares. He’d tried to protect her from those horrors. Obviously he had failed. Sebastian pushed the bedroom door open with the toe of his boot and peeked inside. She sat on the window ledge in a thick white damask robe, her knees pulled to her chest, her hair veiling her face. The sun just tipped the horizon. The white-washed sky cast an eerie sheen across her skin. His heart sank. Everything he had imagined could go wrong, had. His suspicions were correct. The dream of his dancer in the devil’s arms had come true. He knew it. He spoke gently as he neared her, “You are a child of darkness, Scarlet. The moonlight is your halo. The morning sun can never compete with your beauty.” She sat beneath her shroud of midnight hair, not moving or acknowledging his nearness. “You know I prefer the warmth of the sun. It is the only thing that can still make me feel like a mortal.” He touched her hair, pulling it aside to reveal closed eyes and a bowed head.

“But you are not mortal.” “Must you take that away from me, too.” she said in a voice soft and drained. “Scarlet.” Sebastian thought sure she would crumble if touched. “Forgive me.” He swallowed. She was already asking forgiveness. Truly, things were as he had dreamed.

you feeling now. Is…everything all right.” He knew it wasn’t. “How are

She stretched her legs across the ledge and leaned back, meeting his eyes with a withdrawn care and a sigh. “There are some things I must tell you, Sebastian. I haven’t been able to think of anything else. I’ve done something terrible.” He swallowed and looked past her out the window where the leaves had begun to change colors on the tall elms. With a sense of what was to come, he turned away and sat on the first step that led up to the window, his back to her. He had known since two nights ago when his heart had been wrenched with a twisting pain. “Yes. Go on.” Catching her face in her hands, Scarlet spread her fingers over her cheeks and pressed hard. “I…I’ve betrayed you, Sebastian.” “Betrayed.” His word voiced over his name as she spoke. Scarlet stared at his back, his thick coal hair flowing over the white shirt. He didn’t move an inch. But he had known. “Yes,” she answered meekly. “But I have to explain.” Sebastian’s sigh pushed all the air from his body, his shoulders slackened and he melted into a meek shadow before her. A small child who had spent his entire life searching for something to hold, to value, and now to have it ripped away. “Who.” Scarlet swallowed. “Who. No…its—” “Who!” he commanded.

Michele Hauf 106 “Vince,” she blurted out and then shrank back into a tight fetal ball.

“It

just happened. It was a mistake, but…I didn’t—” “And you have killed too, haven’t you. I cannot believ this!” He pounded his fist into the stone step. “Not only do you betray me physically e

and emotionally but you also go against all that I believe and have taught you by killing. He did teach you to kill, didn’t he.” “Yes,” she said. “But let me explain, Sebastian. I didn’t—” He wasn’t hearing her. “What did he do to you that made you so manic earlier.” “Nothing, I never found—” She stopped as Sebastian turned to meet her teared eyes. If he wouldn’t hear her confession, she at least had to tell him of the pit. It wasn’t right. Rico had to be stopped. “Sebastian, you must listen to me. I have to tell you what happened tonight.” She went on her knees beside him and gripped his collar. “I do not need to hear details of your affair, my lady.” He tugged his shirt from her hand. Scarlet stared at her empty fingertips for a moment and then searched her lover’s eyes for the compassion he’d always held for her. Sebastian’s eyes were voids of dark silence. No glint of warmth from beneath the velvet lashes to offer her security. “It’s not that, Sebastian. It’s something more, something so evil.” “Tell me,” he said through tightened lips. “It’s this family Vince has joined, they’re evil. You can’t imagine. I went to the mansion

tonight to look for…Vince.” She checked his face for reaction but received only his unflinching stare. “There was a party…there were so many people. I started looking around and wandered down this hallway and stumbled across this…this room.” Flashes of maggots crawling across the girl’s face, of her skull being crushed beneath Rico’s heel, dried the saliva in Scarlet’s throat. “There were dead bodies everywhere. I started to panic, but I found another room with a coffin in it. It was chained down, as if someone were trying to keep whatever was inside in. I think it was his sister. Vince told me he used to have a sister, though he never said whether or not she was dead.” “Who’s sister.” Sebastian asked dully. “And then he found me—oh, well, Rico’s sister—he’s the one who owns the mansion. He took Vince in…but he threatened me, Sebastian. We were standing in that hideous room of corpses— My god.” She gasped. “And Rico stood there so calm, so unaffected. And then he crushed the girl’s skull—she was still alive! They had thrown her into this pit of bodies to die amid rotting corpses.” Hot tears flowed across her cheeks and Scarlet was unable to continue. “Rico,” he whispered. Sebastian’s mind flooded with visions of ancient memories. Memories he had long ago stored and sealed tightly. “Federico.” “Yes,” Scarlet seemed surprised to see some recognition in his eyes. “Federico…mmm…I can’t remember his last name. Vince told me.” Sebastian gripped Scarlet’s chin. “Federico Bellange.” “Yes, I…think that was it. Do you know him. I didn’t think— But wait, he said he did know you. No, he had only heard you play, it didn’t seem as if he knew you personally.” “That bastard is in America.” Wicked Angels - Sequel to Dark Rapture

107 He released her and walked across the room, hands on his hips. After all these years. Had Federico come in search of him. He paced from the bed to the window steps

sat. “I know him, Scarlet. And I know his sister, Catrina.” where she

“You’re right. That was the name he used—Catrina. But how do you know them. And what happened to his sister. Is she still alive. I can’t imagine if she were dead that he would need to chain her coffin up. If that was her coffin.” “I have no idea why he would keep her locked away,” Sebastian’s voice faded as his thoughts brought him over to the vanity and he bent before it to examine his reflection. For a moment the mirror reflected a dandy young fop, with moiré ribbon binding back his hair and Belgian lace circling his wide cuffs. What a fool he had been then. “Federico is an evil man, Scarlet. I can’t believe you’re involved with him, too.” “I am not involved with Federico or Vince—” Sebastian whipped around and glared at her. “I don’t want to hear that bastard’s name touch your lips ever again.” She hunched into submission, her eyes trailing across the floor. “I’m sorry.” “Your treatment of my emotions is unforgivable,” Sebastian cut her off quickly. “I had never thought you would betray me. And now, to become involved with this man… I see I must tell you all I know of Federico and Catrina Bellange.” Michele Hauf 108

Part Two Federico and Catrina Bellange Menace in Venice Wicked Angels - Sequel to Dark Rapture 109 Chapter Eighteen Venice, 1778 Ruby damask slithered across her cool skin, wrapping seductive color about a bare neck of palest cream. Federico laced the bodice front, his fingers working slowly, a ritual he enjoyed daily, while Catrina stood silent and content. Essence of vanilla bean, crushed to a delicate emulsion by some far-off Indian slaves, wafted from her body. Federico bent to devour the scent. His favorite. His nose touched her skin, gliding across an ample mound of breast that plunged forth from the tight gown. He breathed deeply, inhaling sweetness, delighting in the minute quiver beneath his mouth. He pressed his lips to the sweet valley between her breasts,

prolonging the kiss, awaiting her expected reaction. Her fingers threaded through his unbound hair, gently coaxing his mouth higher as he trailed his tongue over the delicate clavicle bone and then to her neck. Her jugular beat fiercely as he pressed his lips to her vein, counting the pulse. Both knew what that simple action meant. What they both wished for, dreamed of… Federico closed his eyes, concentrating on the heavy pulse beneath his lips. The taste of vanilla, salt and of divine feminine mystique tempted him to bite. He did, lightly, then quickly withdrew to look into her eyes. Each was a reflection of the other as they faced one another. Her right eye was a vivid blue, a shallow wishing pond lovers dreamed over; the same as his left. Her left eye was a murky gray, as if mud splashed into the spring pond; the same as his right. When he stood by her right side, the combined blue eyes formed one solitary creature. Two hearts that beat as one. One soul, shared, yet never divided. He lifted a lace-encircled hand to brush his fingers across her parted lips. They betrayed the color of her dress, making the ruby damask seem pale in comparison.

“Our guest awaits,” he said, and followed with a resolute sigh. Though they both enjoyed the company of others, the act of sharing one another with guests was sad. When their minds parted in individual conversation, their energy decreased. They became less. Though the taking and feeding off the energy of others was all they knew. Federico retrieved an ivory fan from the lacquered vanity and placed it lovingly in Catrina’s fingers as they left the bedroom. “Come, dear sister. I believe we’ve

kept Signore de la Court waiting long enough. He arrived on foot, I’ve been told. A pity the foyer is not warmer in the winter months, though, I expect our guest should have no problem adjusting.” “Umm…” Catrina purred deeply, a habit indicative of her mischievous, shameless lifestyle. “Well if he is chilled I shall be available to warm him.” “Ah, innamorata, keep those claws retracted.” Federico pulled her hand to his mouth and grazed his lips over her knuckles, receiving a fluttering gasp from her. “We wouldn’t want to frighten away the mouse before we’ve had time to properly play with him, would we.” Catrina tugged her skirts from between the filigree iron that lined the marble stairs leading down into the portego. “Restraint is your best attribute, brother, not mine. I promise I shall try. Though I do become bored so easily.” Michele Hauf 110 They landed the stairs, passing an engraving by Dürer, Melancholia, which featured a disgruntled, if bored angel and her cherub companion who seemed not in the least impressed as the master of the house and his mate passed them by. Federico paused on the last step, tapping the thick silver ring wrapped round his forefinger against the iron railing. The massive blue stone captured the candleglow in blue flashes that scanned across the carved plaster work, lighting the faces of a thousand cherubs in heavenly pride. “Your boredom is my misery,” he said, contemplating, watching, as Catrina fluffed her ruby skirts. A dash of mahogany fell across her bare shoulder, a curl to match the flame in

Federico’s hair. He pressed it between his fingers and the vein on her neck. “I hope you like the diversion I have chosen for you this time. And the prize…” Catrina’s wicked smile prompted Federico’s own. “All good things come to those who possess the skill to take them.” “Ciao, Signore de la Court, you must forgive our rudeness.” Federico crossed the blue and gold Italian tiles in the music room and slipped his hands over Sebastian’s shoulders. The two men exchanged quick kisses to either cheek. “Forgive me if I have offended,” Sebastian began in newly learned Venetian. He impressed himself immensely with his ability to quickly pick up the lisping Venetian dialect, which was curiously different from the Italian he already knew. “Your footman directed me toward the music room. I didn’t want to be a nuisance but I was drawn to the lovely harpsichord.” He gestured toward the elegant ebony harpsichord that glittered with inlaid gold filigree.

epped forward, offe

“On the contrary”—Catrina st ring a hand sparkling with the same brilliant blue jewels that donned her brother’s hand— “I am quite sure you shall never be a nuisance. It is my brother and I who beg your apology for being so tardy.” “Well, enough of this damned forgiveness.” Federico gestured to the patterned rosesilk sofas. “Let us sit and discuss the reason we’ve called you to our humble palazzo on such a fierce night. You had no problem braving the storm, I pray.” “Little problem at all. Though I fear with the storm picking up momentum my trek home may not be as pleasant. The lagoon has literally frozen over, I’m sure you’ve heard. I passed a great dazzle of golden lights and merry fêtes on the way here.”

“So I’ve heard. I’ve been begging Rico to take me to the Piazza San Marco for the Carnival. But it has been treacherously cold.” Catrina clutched her brother’s arm possessively and gave him a little pout before redirecting her attention to Sebastian. “But the weather won’t hamper your return home.” she asked bluntly, as if she completely expected that it shouldn’t. Sebastian shrugged. “No, Signora. I’m quite sure I’ll manage.” The two siblings exchanged looks and then stared across the room at Sebastian. It was then that he noticed the eerie flash of brilliance between the two of them, as if one blue-eyed creature stared back at him. “Signore de la Court.” Federico prompted. “Huh. Oh, mi scusi. It is just…your home…” Regaining his composure, Sebastian glanced away from the incredible sight, finding it hard to erase from his mind as his eyes Wicked Angels - Sequel to Dark Rapture 111 browsed over the sky blue walls overlaid in gold filigree, and across the expansive room to the harpsichord of matching blue and gold that he so longed to touch. “…it is lovely. It is almost beyond words.” Federico gave an modest shrug of his shoulders. “So…I wonder if I may inquire as to why you have invited me here this evening.” Federico spread his arms back across the silk couch, smiling slyly when his fingers tripped across the curls showering down Catrina’s neck. “It is your musical prowess we seek, Signore de la Court. I’ve heard much about it and my sister wishes to perfect her musical skills. Having been recommended to me by a recent acquaintance, I thought to search no

more.” “An acquaintance.” Sebastian wrinkled a brow. His fingers fidgeted with the hem of his embroidered frockcoat. “May I inquire as to whom you speak of.” Federico glanced to Catrina, his mouth dipping into a frown, which in turn drew his brows down with it. “I am new to Venice…and…it is only because I’ve not taught for many years,” Sebastian explained. “I would have to wonder who would recommend my services if they had known that I was no longer teaching.” “Ah, if you are no longer teaching.” Federico spread his hands in the air, seeming to dismiss the whole offer.

hat,” Sebastian added quickly. “We would be willing to pay,” Federico interjected casually, the “Oh, it’s not t

frown slipping away beneath the thin line of his mustache. “Really.” Sebastian’s interest piqued. He caught the preening gaze of Catrina Bellange. She wore a tiny black patch at the corner of her eye. The Italians referred to this choice of placement as passionata. So true. He quickly looked away. “It was Signore Francesco Volierre,” Catrina stated with a snap of her fan against her palm to close it tight. “He recommended we seek you if I was to obtain the best musical instruction.” “Francesco,” Sebastian muttered under his breath while fighting the hoard of memories that rushed through his mind. But why. We are no longer friends. “Signore. Is there a problem.” Problem. Of course, if you consider Francesco and he had been friends since childhood, until the tragic death of Francesco’s beloved Serena ripped them apart. It was an accident…I never meant to kill her, I was only protecting her from Francesco’s

wrath. Oh…the brilliant crimson blood that seeped from her breast through the egg yolk colored fibers of her dress… Sebastian shook off the deafening screams of his past and focused back on Federico. “N’importe. So…you two are friends of Francesco Volierre. Might I ask how you know him.” Federico stood and pushed back the sweeping hem of his black velvet velada. His hand gripped the gray silk waistcoat that covered his hip. “I don’t wish to be rude,” Sebastian interjected. “But I—” “I feel the relationship my sister and I have with Signore Volierre is of no importance to you, Signore de la Court. Though, I will allow we were casual acquaintances, having met him only this summer while Cat and I vacationed in Paris.” “Signore!” Michele Hauf 112 Their conversation was interrupted by the high-pitched warble of the maid. She scrambled down the marble staircase, her hands playing nervously with her brown skirts once she noticed that she had interrupted. “Can’t you see we’ve a guest, Violetta.” Sebastian nodded politely when the maid bowed and acknowledged him as if an afterthought. “Scusi, Signore Bellange, but the girl, she has—” Catrina, who had ignored the rude interruption until now, abruptly turned to the maid at the mention of a girl. Sebastian noticed her eyes flare wide at the maid as if a signal of sorts. He glanced to the maid who was turning knots into her skirts with the way she fidgeted, finding she took Catrina’s signal as a means to be silent by biting her lower lip and lowering her eyes. “Si, the girl.” Federico turned to Sebastian. “We’ve a poor sick child staying with us.

Her family had left her at the charity hospital. You see, my sister—she has such a good heart—has a penchant for caring for the ill.” Catrina smiled genially at her brother and reached for his hand, which he squeezed gently. The shock on the maid’s face transferred to Sebastian’s own. “If there’s a problem—” “No, no, Signore de la Court,” Catrina cooed. Her tone changed sharply as she ground words directed to the maid through clenched lips. “What is the worry, Violetta.” “It’s the g-girl,” the maid stuttered. “She’s…she’s…” “Expired.” Federico asked casually, causing Sebastian to stare with morbid

t at him. Violetta nodded mutely. amazemen

Sebastian gasped. “Oh, you mustn’t let me keep you. This is a tragedy—” “Nonsense.” Federico hooked an arm around the maid’s rounded shoulders, leading her back toward the stairway. “Have Alphonse fetch the surgeon, Violetta. He shall take care of things. There you go, that’s a good girl.” “The surgeon.” Sebastian stood. “But if she’s dead—” “Ouff.” Federico waved a dismissing hand through the air and returned to Catrina’s side. “It is of no worry. This has happened before. Unfortunately the sick children we take in are generally of a terminal nature.” Catrina bowed her head solemnly as her brother spoke. “Because of my sister’s good heart we offer poor families a restful place for their dying children, instead of leaving them to breath their last breathe in some stinking hospital. We’ve some lovely rooms upstairs made up especially for Catrina’s guests.” “That’s very generous of you. The two of you.” Sebastian caught Catrina’s eye

as she looked up. She smiled widely, revealing a dazzling sparkle of teeth. He immediately forgot the shock of hearing of the girl’s death as he found himself transfixed on the woman’s seductive smile. “Where were we then…” Federico crossed in front of his sister, shaking Sebastian from his stare. “Ah yes. Quite simply Signore, er—may I call you Sebastian.—we are making you an offer. Will you tutor my sister or do you have no interest.” Wicked Angels - Sequel to Dark Rapture 113 Sebastian looked to the fire, feeling his lust to become close to his music again flare as wildly as the flames. He hadn’t touched the cool ebony keys of a harpsichord since he and Francesco had parted ways. That had been over two years ago. What was he to do. Why would Francesco recommend his services to people he did not know. Especially when he and Francesco were now sworn enemies. Was this a trick. Some sort of ploy. And what did he know of Federico and Catrina Bellange. But of course, their generous nature had just been revealed. They took in sick children to ease the family’s burden. They gave poor families joy in knowing their children’s dying moments could be lived in luxurious, clean surroundings. Could two people be more charitable. Sebastian inadvertently caught the glimmer from Federico’s left eye. How odd. Twins. Born of a shared womb, though not alike in looks. Federico was tall, a stately shape that towered over his sister. His frame was sturdy and rugged, yet agile. Catrina, a good half foot shorter, was delicate and fine, though her eyes flashed a menace that made

Sebastian uneasy. The only resemblance that would indicate their shared birth was the shiny mahogany that crowned their heads in lustrous unnatural vibrancy and the mismatched eyes that perhaps should have been exchanged with one another before birth so they each would have had a matched set. Ahh, but they had offered to pay. And though he was not lacking in money—he had no need for food or drink—he certainly could use a little extra to purchase a decent home for himself. As it was, he spent his nights in fire-warmed taverns watching drunkards nod off over their steins, or if he was lucky, he passed the night with a lovely signorina. During the day he slept in an abandoned warehouse in his coffin. Sebastian glanced about the lavish walls of the music room. The air was warm and comforting; the presence of two who sought his skills, a dream. Oh, to have the

panionship of a warm human soul again, and after roaming the French countryside for com

years, alone, and feeling a beast in man’s eyes. Friendship. That is all I want. “I shall be honored to provide my services.” Sebastian stood and received Federico’s kiss to each of his cheeks. It was strange, but normally Sebastian found it hard to make physical contact with another person without feeling…the temptation. There was none with Federico. Though there was something else. Something different. An attraction, almost mortal, like the feeling one gets when they swoon over an attractive woman. “Ah, good man. Catrina, you hear that. Very soon my lovely sister shall be performing for our guests instead of my having to engage them in droll, witty conversation.

You shall be greatly appreciated, Sebastian, my friend. Ombra!” A house servant bearing wine rushed to his master’s command and the threesome toasted their new friendship. A mangy black cat let out a vicious yelp as Sebastian’s boot met its mark. He slipped in the snow and stumbled onward, cursing the beasts that ran rampant about the frozen calli of Venice. Even in the winter months, constantly doused by the acqua alta and the occasional snow storm, one was not saved of the incessant meows of the Venetian cats. Michele Hauf 114 He approached the bridge that crossed the Rio del Noale and carefully ascended the iceslicked steps. The street sweepers, who dug out their shovels in the winter, had not emerged this morning to chip the ice from the bridges. Traveling by foot, which was the only possibility since the lagoon and a few outer canals were frozen, was treacherous. Even for a vampire. But Sebastian was not upset over the weather. How could he be. His life had taken a complete swing for the better. It had taken only two weeks of daily lessons before Sebastian began to feel the comforts he had once known. Federico and Catrina Bellange were generous with their favors. Too generous. But having lost all suspicion of their friendship with Francesco, and feeling quite sure they had no idea as to what sort of creature he really was, Sebastian resigned to relax and let them do as they pleased. From what he had discerned of the elaborate palazzo they lived in and their

lifestyle, they were quite rich, and could easily afford to pay him well. They enjoyed gifting him with fine presents. A gold clip for his sheet music turned in the shape of a G clef; money, which had allowed him to rent a small one-room apartment a fifteen minute stroll from the Palazzo Bellange; and precious wines from Rico’s private stock. And with the greatest gift of all, their cherished friendship, there was nothing more he could ask for. Yes, he liked Cat and Rico, and had taken to calling them by the intimate names they used for one another. They in turn called him Bastian, a name only his mother had called him. Oh, mother. The memories rushed forward unbidden. He had left her the day after his abrupt transformation and unwanted introduction to the vampire life. “Mere, I must go. Please, I cannot explain.” Angelique de la Courte’s eyes had watered with tears as she shook her head. “I do not understand, Bastian. What is wrong. Have you done something awful.” “No, mere. It is nothing like that. Please.” Sebastian buried his face into the

olds of Angelique’s woolen gown. He couldn’t bare leaving without an warm f

explanation, but he knew the truth would be his mother’s death. How could he ever begin to explain what he had become. Angelique pulled a golden chain from the pocket hidden beneath her skirts. On its loop dangled a shiny pocket watch, one Sebastian had seen her caressing many times, touching its cold surface to her lips in silent adoration of the memories the trinket brought her. She pressed it into his palm. “You are my one true love, my son. I know you would

not be doing this unless there were a very good reason. Take this…it was your father’s.” Sebastian rubbed his eyes, wiping away the cooling tears and Angelique’s pale smiling face. The pocket watch was hard against his heart. Your father’s. Yes, the father he had never known, the Portuguese singer with whom Angelique had an affair. A sense of calm and gladness filled his heart to know Roberto LeReaux, Angelique’s legal husband, was only his stepfather and not his blood relative. “She must never know,” he whispered now as he stepped across the slippery snow. “I will die before I let her find out that I am a vampire.” Sebastian tromped through slushy snow, his thinning leather boots ruffing against the exposed Istrain stone used to pave the campi. The closeness Rico and Cat offered was a dream, something no mortal would offer him if they knew what he was. But the Bellange twins had no idea of his true identity. And Wicked Angels - Sequel to Dark Rapture 115 Sebastian strove to never let them learn his dark secret. This was his first chance at having some semblance of family since the loss of his own. And he would do anything to keep it. Shaking icy flakes of snow from his tricorn and coat, Sebastian stepped inside the Palazzo Bellange, handed his things to the footman, and looked about as a stream of servants passed him by. They carried in rococo-styled chairs and tables, cabinets lacquered in subtle pastels and delicate flowers, a gilded floor mirror, and rolls of carpeting. “But what is this. Everything is coming in so I assume they are not moving.” “Bastian! Ciao! Come in if you can.” Sebastian slipped past a wide screen of golden chintz that made its way up the marble

staircase. He followed Cat’s swishing peach skirts down the long portego that stretched the entire length of the palazzo. Once inside the music room, he slipped a freshly transcribed manuscript from under his frockcoat and placed it on the harpsichord. “What is going on. Have you gone shopping again, Cat.” Catrina sidled up to him on the music bench. “You are a silly one, Bastian. It is not me who is the shopper. They are gifts from Rico, he is redoing my study.” “Your study. And what, pray tell, do you use a study for.” “Bastian.” She ran a manicured nail under his darkly stubbled chin, sending a delightful shiver down his neck and a flush through his cheeks. “Are you implying I might be one of those unthinking silk-stuffed dolls who parade about the city on the hand of her rich lover.” “Per favore, Cat, don’t think I am insulting your intelligence. Never. You are by far an extremely intelligent woman.” He gestured to the sheet music, an original piece he had

t last week after securing the warmth of his own apartment. “Look how much you written ou

have learned in a fortnight. I should imagine you’ll be ready to play this piece at your next dinner party.” “Oh, yes!” She clapped her hands together once. “Federico has already planned it. The Duc d’Allini is attending, along with his wife who has been writing those silly stories about fairies and elf children. I hear they’re absolutely horrendous.” Sebastian laughed. She looked so childlike and innocent when she wrinkled her nose. “And why does your brother invite these people if you do not like them.” “It doesn’t matter whether either of us cares for them, Bastian. All that matters is

they make for interesting conversation.” She fingered the silver buttons on his frockcoat, moving up successively as she spoke. “Each guest is chosen carefully to provide enough conflict against the other guests. This careful selection leads to sparkling conversation and perhaps, or rather, hopefully, a witty argument or two. Would it not be so dreadfully dull if everyone sat around sipping wine and all agreed with one another.” She tapped him on the chin, ending her trek with a giggle. “Contrast is a great joy in life, Bastian.” “I believe you and Rico take a bit of wicked joy in arranging these battles of the minds. I could see the spark in your eye last week when the Duchess la Poozan was insulted by Marcus for wearing her animal furs. You both love it, don’t you.” Cat ran her fingers along the black harpsichord keys producing an ascending scale of chromatics. “Don’t you.” “Yes, I imagine I may, occasionally, but—” Michele Hauf 116 “But, I fear you tend to leave our little parties just as they are getting started.” Cat leaned across the keys, resting her chin in her cupped fingers “Why did you rush off so scandalously early last time, Bastian. It wasn’t even dawn. Did you not enjoy seeing the Duchess turn red.” There was a full moon, he thought, with a glance toward the window that overlooked the Grand Canal. I had to leave before sinking my teeth into the Duchess’ reddening flesh. “I wasn’t feeling well, chère. I am sure I told you so that night. I didn’t want to stay and spoil the festive mood, if you will, with my own less than festive spirits.” “Yes, well…oh.” Catrina gasped suddenly and pressed her fingers to her tightly

stitched stays. “Are you feeling well. Is it the air.” Sebastian glanced to the window; it was open, allowing a fresh chill into the room. “Come over here, sit down.” He helped Catrina to the divan and she lay back, clutching her breast. “It came…so suddenly,” she panted. “I can’t breathe.” Her face paled quickly. Sebastian looked about, not sure what to do as he knelt by her side. Of course, it was the dress. The Venetian women followed the French fashion of pulling their corsets tightly to ensure a slim figure, not caring for their health. “Please,” she gasped. “You must help me. Unlace this for me, quickly. Oh, I feel faint. Per favore.” His hands hovering before the woman’s bodice, Sebastian noticed with a deep

gulp how her breasts swelled above the soft peach silk with each heaving breath. He was sure that they would spill out if he were to loosen the stays. A familiar ache stirred in his mouth as his fangs threatened to come down of their own volition. The blood hunger spoke fiercely; he had yet to feed. But it was not welcome right now. He closed his eyes, concentrating intensely as he fought to spread the teasing pain. It worked. Perhaps too well. Now the tingling had descended to his breeches where his erection grew hard. Lust always accompanied the blood hunger. “Please.” Catrina gripped his hand and pushed it to her breast where her skin was hot beneath his palm. Unable to resist her pouting red lips, Sebastian nodded and began to undo the top hooks, each one gently releasing her bound flesh. He stopped abruptly and

looked up the great marble staircase. “Federico.” “He’s out,” she said and gestured for him to unhook another. Ready to release another hook, he noticed there was more flesh exposed than should be for a lady. “But…you’ve no chemise.” “I cannot breathe, Bastian,” she urged. It seemed to him she probably should be able to breathe, he having undone three hooks by now, but an innocent flutter of her lashes and the warm softness of her breasts caressing his hand enticed him further. Sebastian undid another, and another, each time exposing more of the tempting flesh. And then, without a thought, he bent to kiss the warm mounds beneath his fingertips, pulling the rosy buds into his mouth and sucking them to rigid alertness. “Ohh, Bastian,” she cooed. “I have wondered how long you would admire me from afar before finally deciding to taste of my offerings.” A wicked groan whispered from her painted lips. “It is so sweet your touch.” “You’re sure your brother is out.” Wicked Angels - Sequel to Dark Rapture 117 “Sì, he is gone. But you’ve no worry, Federico would not mind. He likes you very much.” She pushed her fingernails through his hair, dragging them across his scalp, which sent shivers to his tormented groin. “Federico speaks of you often. I know he would be pleased you’ve finally come to your senses.” Sweet vanilla tickled up Sebastian’s nose. From his vantage point, Catrina’s piercing blue eye was a priceless gem as she teased a finger along his bottom lip. He could take her now, lift her skirts and delve into her hidden secrets, but…the whole situation did not feel

right. It was early evening. Federico could walk in anytime and catch them. And there was the blood hunger that needed to be answered. “Perhaps…I could return later. When Federico is sleeping.” Her tinkling laughter warmed his heart. Catrina pulled his face up and kissed his lips. “Does that mean you don’t want to hear my solo now. I’ve been working for days on your piece.” The stirring in his gums had not ceased, nor had the stirring in his breeches. Sebastian knew that he must leave. “Later, when I return. I promise your practice efforts will not go unheard.” “Sî, you must come later.” She stood and pulled a shawl from the back of the divan, which Sebastian helped to drape around her shoulders and pull over her exposed cleavage.

aps close to midnight.” A mischievous sprinkle of candlelight danced in her eyes. “Perh

“I shall. Will Rico—” “You mustn’t worry, Bastian. Come along the canal, the gondolas have finally broken through the ice. I will wait at the servant’s entrance with a candle. Federico sleeps like a corpse. He’ll never know. But as I’ve said, he would not mind.” “But for now.” He kissed her hand. “Of course, my love. This shall be our little secret.” She glanced over his shoulder, toward the stairs, and quickly caught his hands in hers before he could turn around. “Let me see you to the door.” The bell above the front door chimed, shaking a crust of ice over Sebastian’s shoulders as he made way. Catrina strolled back into the music room, her smile pushing her cheeks high

when she looked back up the stairs. “Very good, sister. I see you are no longer bored. Your acting abilities will not go unrewarded.” Federico looked down from the staircase from where he had stood for the last ten minutes. “Our plan is beginning to take shape.” Delicious velvets and damasks of a deep, shocking crimson swathed Catrina’s room. Sebastian rolled over to his back, thinking it had been a long time since he had slept on silk sheets. Or even sat on fine furniture, for that matter. For the past long months, his home had been bare boards and abandoned cellars that had been wretchedly damp and moldy during the summer months when the water soaked them, and icy and frigid as of late. He was glad he had been able to feed before returning tonight, for the bloodlust always surfaced whenever he made love. Most extractions taken from his donors—he refused to use the word victim—were quick, the urge for sex easily suppressed. But if the donor was female Michele Hauf 118 and she had invited him into her home with illicit intentions—which happened frequently—he was not one to resist the urge. Tonight had been the first time since becoming a vampire, he had made love to a woman without drinking her blood and leaving immediately afterward. Catrina kissed the bare skin on his upper arm, starting a trail of goose bumps that shivered up to his neck and disappeared beneath his dark hair. “You and your brother have been very kind to me.” He wrapped his arms about her body, slick with the glow of sweat and sex. “I feel I owe you something more

than simple music lessons, chèrie. Mon dieu, with the wages Federico has paid me I should have to tutor you for a lifetime to ever repay your good fortune.” “Does it upset you, lover.” Catrina’s lower lip pouted, enticing Sebastian to press his fingers to it. Her skin was hot and slick. “Oh no, chèrie. It is just…well …I’ve gone without for so long. I’ve been the starving artist, living in abandoned shacks, scavenging the streets, occasionally camping out in a gondola overnight. And now…to have money again… it’s…” His eyes searched hers though his mind was tangled with the right words to express his thought. “…la dolce vita.” He wrapped her body into his arms and kissed her. “I shall be indebted to you and your brother for as long as I shall know the two of you. Thank you, Catrina, merci beaucoup.” “Mmm, well, you can begin your thanks by coming inside of me again, innamorata. Oh,

kly.” She kissed t

you do cool off so quic he curve at the base of his neck and trailed a finger along the thick blue vein that pumped his life’s blood, sending shivers throughout his body. “Are you sure you’re not short a few measures of blood.” Sebastian pushed away Catrina’s thick hair, spitting a few strands from between his lips. “What.” “Your blood,” she repeated, having no idea why he was so startled. “It cools so quickly, lover. You’re growing colder. Come closer and let me rewarm you before I must call the maids to bring more blankets.” For a second he had feared the worst. That she suspected his true nature. As he trailed his tongue down the satin plane of Catrina’s stomach he resolved to drink twice as much before coming to her bed the next time. Obviously one mortal was not enough to

sustain his own human characteristics. ***** The sun set on the lagoon today, softening the frozen covering and allowing the gondoliers to break passageways through the icy water. When the sun had disappeared beyond the horizon, Sebastian quickly made way for the Palazzo Bellange. Rico had promised to teach him the fine art of shooting after he had expressed an interest a few nights ago. But even with his heightened vampire senses, he was having difficulty grasping the technique. Sebastian couldn’t hit the target, which frustrated him to no end. He resigned that there were obviously some things he was not meant to learn. Sebastian left his cape and tricorn with the footman and sailed down the portego in search of the twins, hearing their voices just above. They were upstairs, in the west wing, he knew as he mounted the twisting stairs. In his haste, Sebastian ran smack into Rico dressed in full pirate regal. Wicked Angels - Sequel to Dark Rapture 119 “Avast, ye matey!” Rico said with great vigor, and then tucked his sword into the leather scabbard at his waist. “Or, what ever it is pirates say. Ciao, Bastian. You’ve come for another shooting lesson.” “Yes,” Sebastian began slowly as he looked over Rico’s costume. He wore a white shirt opened to the waist, exposing a light dusting of mahogany hairs across his chest. It tied with a wide purple sash over slashed and striped breeches and over his uncolored eye sat a black

patch. “Am I interrupting something. It seems I was not invited to the masquerade. Or, perhaps you were on your way to Carnival.” Rico laughed heartily and threw his arm across Sebastian’s shoulders. “Just a game to dispel the boredom, my friend—” “Oh!” Catrina came sailing down the stairs, dressed in loose-fitting gypsy garb with delicate bells tinkling about her bare feet and she plunged into her brother’s arms. “Ah, there ye be, me faithful wench!” Rico tipped Catrina back in his arms and planted a kiss to her lips as Sebastian stood back, quite amused at their antics. “And

will ye not show me shipmate the same regard ye give me.” Sebastian stifled a laugh as Rico continued his attempts at swashbuckler dialect. Catrina twirled over to Sebastian, her ankles tinkling gaily and he swept her up in his arms. She kissed him deeply but he did not renege, having become used to showing affection toward Catrina in front of her brother. Though, nothing more than a kiss or a caress. “There ye be, me wench.” Rico pulled his sister to his side. “Time for this mate’s shooting lesson. Now off with your lecherous hands from his body before me matey goes into a swoon.” Rico gave a pirate’s har-dee-har-har chuckle and gestured for Sebastian to follow him. Wiping Catrina’s red lip paint from his lips, Sebastian followed the merry pirate but not before catching a wink from Catrina as she sailed up the stairs. The shooting gallery was on the main floor, located just behind the servant’s quarters. Guns were a passion of Rico’s. He favored a smaller, Spanish flintlock, one inset

with gold filigree and a gold plated barrel. He handled it with pride, explaining that it had been a gift from his grandfather. Sebastian stood a few paces to Rico’s side, watching the painted target as the self-made pirate took aim. “Ciao, my lovers.” Catrina came up behind the two, having changed into more presentable garb, and threw her arms about Sebastian’s shoulders, kissing him on the ear. “Shh,” he said, and pulled her hands to his mouth, kissing her thumbs. “It is all right, mi amore. Rico always hits his mark. He has the truest aim. Watch.” She peered over Sebastian’s shoulder and clapped gleefully when the snap of the gun produced a gaping hole in the center of the target. “You see.” “I shall never learn to shoot as well.” Sebastian received the gun from Rico and pulled the top of the flint bag open with his teeth. “I am surprised,” Rico said with a quick glance to Catrina, a glance that occurred often, and always unnerved Sebastian. It was as if they knew something he did not. “Perhaps you are nervous. There is no reason you should not be able to hit the target.” It seemed to Sebastian Rico thought everyone should be able to shoot as well as he did. Michele Hauf 120 “Everyone has their vocation, Rico,” Catrina said. “Bastian makes beautiful music, while you choose to come here in the dead of night and make a glorious noise that wakes the entire household.” “True, but we night creatures take a wicked glee in waking the dead, do we not.” He looked to Sebastian for a reply. Sebastian shrugged and held the flintlock before him, aiming, which he knew was

useless. “If you refer to my late hours, my friend, you are correct. But I am not much for waking the entire household myself.” “Nonsense.” Catrina tickled his ear with the tip of her tongue and Sebastian shrugged his shoulders. “What fun would life be without causing a great spectacle. My brother and I do n

ot enjoy life unless it is exciting and spur-of-the-moment. You

are too restrained, Bastian. Live your life to the fullest before it is gone!” Her vigor startled Sebastian and he let the flintlock fall until it dangled precariously from his trigger finger. “Yes…I suppose,” he agreed absently. “Before it is gone.” ***** “Buon giorno and good news, mi amore. Though, it is rather late to be a good morning isn’t it. It is nearly noon.” Sebastian stirred beneath the thick crimson blankets and his eyes fluttered open to muted darkness. He had taken Catrina up on her suggestion of living life to its fullest by allowing her to lure him into her bed again. She was a demon between the sheets that drained him of his energy as a vampire would drain someone of their blood. He had heard a voice. Someone was in Catrina’s chambers. “The storm has darkened the sky so it’s impossible to determine if one should get up.” Catrina said and Sebastian felt a nudge beneath the sheet on his buttock from her caressing hand. “Bastian, are you awake.” He grunted and pushed the counterpane from his face, thankful that what Catrina said was true; it was still dark in the bedroom. The velvet curtains were drawn over the windows and from the sound of furling wind outside he assumed the snow ravaged Venice

again. But it was Rico’s presence that startled him. “And is it a good morning, my friend.” Rico pushed the damask bed curtains aside and leaned across his sister’s body, giving Sebastian a friendly slap across the back. Sebastian turned over quickly, pulling the sheets to his waist and rubbed his eyes. He felt quite weak after assuming all the contortions Catrina had seduced his body into last night “Rico, I’m—” “When I heard you had stayed the night I simply had to come see you this morning. I’ve such wonderful news.” “Really.” Rico pressed a lingering kiss to Catrina’s shoulder and rested his head in the V of her bent arm. “Sì, very good news. I’ve been so pleased with your tutoring of Cat I’ve decided to use my social standing to advance your career. I have arranged for you to give a private concert in my home.” Wicked Angels - Sequel to Dark Rapture 121 “Really.” He had never thought about performing in public. Well, yes, he had. He could not perform in public and risk possible recognition, though he knew no one in Venice. The idea of his mother finding out he was so close to Paris was unthinkable. “But you’ve done so much already.” “A trifle, my friend. But you are pleased.” To perform his own music. To feel the elation. Ah, his heart beat with anticipation. Perhaps it wouldn’t hurt to give a small performance in the privacy of Rico’s home. How

could Angelique possibly find out. “A concert,” he muttered, falling into his own thoughts. Of course, this could be all right. No one would know him. He would have the joy of performing his own compositions.

e the harpsichord here…to practice. I don’t have my own.” Sebastian found he could not resist. “But I’ll need to us

“You barely have your own home, let alone your own instrument,” Catrina stated. “You really should consider finding a nicer place, Bastian. That box you live in can hardly be called a home.” “It’s not so awful, I’ve finally been successful in evicting all the miserable cats.” “Yes, I wondered how a man could live in such conditions,” Rico pondered. “I tell you what, I have an available apartment across the Canalrizzo. It’s small, but a vast improvement over the cell you call home. I want you to have it and I won’t take no for an answer. I’ll have my servants move your things immediately.” “That is very kind of you, Federico. Grazie. I only hope someday I will be able to repay—” “In good time.” He clamped a hand over Sebastian’s arm. “But now, let us go over the guest list for tomorrow night.” Sebastian’s eyes lit up. “Tomorrow. You’ve set things up so soon.” “Oh yes, I never waste time. Are you pleased. Can you have a performance ready by tomorrow evening. I know it’s very soon.” “Pleased. Well, of course, but…” Sebastian stared speechlessly at Rico and Catrina. Rico’s head rested gently on his sister’s arm, and again when the two were close their blue

eyes merged them as one and Sebastian felt the intense urge to reach forward and kiss them both. And he did. “Mmm, I believe he is pleased,” Catrina said. “Rico, you will invite the lovely lady I met the other day at the hospital.” “Oh yes. She was a duchess, was she not.” “Sì, the Duchess LeReaux.” Sebastian’s entire body stiffened. Catrina continued, oblivious to her lover’s shock, “She said she would be in Venice for a short while. It seems her sister’s husband, Don Vito Gilianni, passed on a few days ago. Poor woman.” “You said a prayer for her, I trust.” “Certainly.” Sebastian listened intently as he struggled to keep a calm appearance about him. He didn’t know what to say. The Duchess LeReaux. Angelique. It couldn’t be. “You must invite her,” Rico added. “And her sister. Though, I imagine the sister is in mourning…but didn’t you say that the duchess’s son was with her.” Michele Hauf 122 Her son! Sebastian pushed the back of his head into the thick feather pillow and closed his eyes as Rico and Catrina conversed. “Yes, I believe his name was Jacques. The duchess had mentioned he was on leave from Versailles to escort her to Venice.” “Jacques,” Sebastian whispered. “But what about, er, the duke. Her husband.” “Hmm.” Rico and Catrina both glanced to Sebastian as if the two had completely forgotten he was in their presence. “Oh, Bastian, yes, you are from Paris. Do you know the duke and duchess.” Their inquisitive silence reached out and spread its long spindly fingers about Sebastian’s neck. He swallowed with difficulty.

“Er…no…no. You know, Rico, I’m not so sure about this concert after all.” Rico’s brow arched and his face switched from inquisition to a strange concern. “I’ve never performed for people I do not know,” Sebastian argued. “Nonsense,” Rico said with a relieved shake of his head. “It has already been arranged. You can stay and practice today.” Rico stood. “Get dressed, Cat, there are some errands you need to run this morning.” ***** They left him to himself after the announcement of his conc

ert. Rico

had to oversee the arrival of a new shipment of paintings and tapestries, and Catrina had disappeared to heaven knew where. Though his mind had been a havoc, tormented with the mention of the duchess’s presence in Venice, Sebastian found he could not fight the pull of the vampire’s sleep. It was as if he were drugged. The arrival of morning had weakened him and though the adrenaline rush kept him awake through noon, as soon as Rico and Cat left, he fell into a slumber, waking hours later. Alone and in a darkened room, Sebastian’s thoughts ran wild. The Duchess LeReaux. Angelique in Venice. No! How could he stop this concert from happening. But oh, to see my mere again. Sebastian’s heart yearned for the touch of his mother’s hand, the sound of her soft voice caressing his ear as she kissed him, and the comfort he always felt whenever in her presence. You made a choice years ago, his conscience reminded. “Yes,” he said. And he knew it was best for both of them. If Angelique discovered the secret he possessed it would surely

mean her death. She could never bare it. Picking his things up from the floor, Sebastian quickly dressed. Finding a slip of blue ribbon on Catrina’s vanity, he used it to tie his hair in a queue and then headed downstairs to find Rico so he could discuss tomorrow’s concert with him. He would convince Rico he needed more time. Yes, he would give a concert, but later, after he could be sure Angelique was no longer in Venice. He found Catrina in the portego dressing to go out, her personal maid layering her with a cape lined in thick gray wolf’s fur. “Bastian, you sleep like death itself,” Catrina said as she slipped one hand into the muff her maid held. “I was going to wake you earlier but decided it would take an entire opera in full voice to penetrate your peaceful slumber.” Wicked Angels - Sequel to Dark Rapture 123 “I’m glad you did not.” He wondered how long she had stood over him, examining his sleep. Had she wondered why he barely breathed as a normal mortal would. He would have to take care not to put himself into such a position again. “I see you are going out.” He glanced down the narrow hallway, seeing the servants lowering the felze, a canopy-like covering, over the waiting gondola. “Sì, but it is not a social visit. A young woman has recently taken quite ill and I’m going to tend to her.” “Will you and Rico be taking her in.” “Si, she is near death and has only her mother along with six other siblings. The poor woman can scarce feed her children let alone pay for the hospital. The girl will be in much better hands here with Rico and I. Tell Rico I’ll return later, will you.”

“Where is he.” “Oh, he’s in one of his moods.” She waved a muffed hand and started toward the landing. “He received another painting today, it’s got him in such a stupor. Check the roof garden, you’ll find him there.”

Wondering exactly what Catrina had meant by Rico’s mood, Sebastian wandered into the patio room. It was enclosed on three sides by glass which allowed the winter sun in without the chill. He was startled to find the good-natured, vibrant young man sulking in a chair before a painting. It was an ethereal, quiet piece that drew him nearer as Sebastian stepped onto the tiled patio. In the painting, an angel with wings of white descended on streams of golden light to the earth. Sebastian could only stand and stare at the lovely picture that seemed to breathe a life of its own. He forgot his worries regarding his mother. “Rico.” Sebastian placed a hand on the man’s shoulder. “Is something wrong.” “Angels are so lovely, aren’t they.” Rico said in a peaceful voice. The crisp lace about his wrist slithered sharply across his azure damask velada as he placed a finger aside his cheek and another to his lips. “I am overwhelmed by them. I can never take into possession a painting of angels without falling into this deep, ineffable awe each time I sit before them.” “The artist does have supreme skill in depicting his subject,” Sebastian observed. He knew of Rico’s passion for angels but the man’s state truly surprised him. Here was a forceful, passionate man, master of his life and destiny, reduced to a wondrous

silence by a mere painting, a facsimile of an angelic being. Sebastian examined the painting again, thinking perhaps he had overlooked something. He himself was not sure if he was of the devil or still a child of God. There were many secrets he had yet to uncover regarding his vampirism. Hell, he wasn’t sure there were great hidden secrets or powers of the vampire. He was as close to human as a man could be if one overlooked the blood drinking and avoiding sunlight. “I want to tell you something.” Rico gestured for Sebastian to come around the chaise and stand beside him. “You think I am out of my mind for acting so. But let me tell you…I saw one once.” “An angel.” Sebastian stared at the painting with new wonder. “I was twelve. My madre called me to her side on her death bed. She kissed my lips and begged me to bring Catrina to her. But I knew my sister would not come. Catrina had developed an aversion to death since mother was overtaken by the sickness. Catrina fears Michele Hauf 124 sickness and the weakness it creates in the body. She has shunned old people, grotesquely wrinkled and crooked with age ever since.” “But if she fears sickness—” “She never gets too near the children we take in,” Rico said quickly. “But they are young. She greatly fears aging, Bastian. Not a day goes by she does not gaze into her jeweled looking glass and pray the signs of age do not appear.” “But Catrina is still so young.” “Yes, I know. But the time shall come. And God help me—” Rico clenched the end of the chair arm “—I would do anything to change her future.”

His jaw softened and he released his grip on the chair. “Catrina is the world to me, Bastian, you must know that.” “I do.” “Yes. But I have seen our closeness unsettles you,” Rico said softly. “Our parents died when we were very young. We’ve been on our own since. I am Catrina’s brother, her father and her confidante. And she in turn is not only my sister but also mother.”

lf mouthing the wor

And lover. Sebastian felt himse ds but he did not voice his suspicions. “But as I was saying, I stood at my mother’s side when death took her. It was a peaceful end to a horrendous fight that had reduced her to bone and flesh. I was thankful for death’s mercy. I kissed her eyes—I still recall the putrid smell of her body—and then ran to the door. But I stopped, for one last look. It was then I saw the angel hovering above my madre’s right shoulder. “It was a fascinating and lovely sight, this angel. Its wings were of softest white and its robes were brilliant azure—the color of the stone in this ring.” Rico absently twisted the ring on his finger. “It did not look to me, this heavenly creature, but I knew then all was well. My mother’s soul was taken by the angel that night and led to God’s hand.” “Father expired two years later, he was in a constant drunken stupor after mother died. He drowned one morning in his own vomit. I found him stretched across a gondola, his pockets turned out by vagrants, a booze bottle wedged beneath his cheek and the bottom of the boat.” Rico squeezed Sebastian’s hands before turning to the painting with an extended sigh. “Ah, but this is not the angel, either. I will not give up my search until I have found it.”

***** Rico stepped inside the sickroom, patting his waistcoat for a handkerchief, but found none . The surgeon had already been here this morning, and Catrina never ventured near the sick children for fear of contracting anything. Finding her here now caused him to race across the room to her. “Catrina. No! What is this.” She turned around, her jaw drawn tight and her eyes maniacally fixed on the object in her hand. She waved the lancet, the one used to bleed the patients of their infected blood, before Rico’s face. “I need more.” She grabbed the silver bleeding bowl, clutching it possessively to her chest as she eyed the sleeping girl on the bed. Wicked Angels - Sequel to Dark Rapture 125 Their guest was sixteen years old. Having spent three months in the Hospital Venezia for an infection in her leg, it had gangrened and they’d amputated the leg, leaving her with an ill-cared-for, infected stump. Her color was pasty and her breathing had been weak when she’d arrived yesterday. At the doctor’s orders, she was to be bled once daily to prevent the infection from spreading through her blood, though Catrina had instructed the surgeon to do it twice, once in the morning and once at nightfall. Rico grabbed his sister’s arm and the knife slashed across his palm. “No,” he whispered harshly, pressing the wound to his mouth. He glanced to the patient to check that he hadn’t

woken her. “She hasn’t had enough time to recover from the last bleeding. You must wait until this evening, Cat—” “It isn’t enough,” Catrina whined, and pulled her wrist from Rico’s grasp. “There was barely enough there to color the bath water pink. I need more, Rico.” She dodged to the bedside, but Rico lunged quickly, grabbing her up by the waist and carried her

cking to the doorway. She was like an addict in need of the precious drug. After ki

reading about Erszebet Bathory of Hungary, Catrina had taken up her morbid daily ritual of bathing in the blood of virgins. It was rumored to possess youthful properties, which had sent Catrina running to the morgues in search of the newly dead. After becoming accustomed to his sister’s eerie ritual, at Rico’s suggestion, they hired a surgeon from Germany, paid him well enough to keep his mouth shut, and began to take in dying girls by offering their family money in turn for allowing their children to die with dignity in a fabulous palazzo. “You mustn’t be so impatient, Cat. She is nearly dead.” He succeeded in removing his struggling sister from the room and once in the hallway pushed her against the wall and pinned her arms to her sides. “You are acting a mad woman! Have you no restraint.” “I grow impatient,” she said through gritted teeth, her blue eye flaring madly and the lancet shaking treacherously in her hand. “The little wench barely yielded a teacup full this morning. That is not enough, Rico! I need her blood to stay young! Oh!” Cat

noticed the blood that gurgled from her brother’s hand. “Rico, oh no, Oh! you must forgive me.” She sank before him, dropping the lancet with a metallic clatter on the floor and clutched the hem of his velada. “I’ve been so terribly cruel to you. I don’t want to grow old. I…I can’t, Rico. I don’t want to grow wrinkled and ugly. I want to be young… I…I want to live forever!” “Cat.” He tried to pull her to her feet but misery weighed her down. Rico went on his knees and pressed his sister’s face onto his shoulder. Seeing her in this state was nothing new, though each time it worried him intensely. “You know I will do anything for you. My life is yours to command. I have never failed to grant any of your wishes, and I shall not renege on my promise this time. Everlasting life shall be yours.” Her face flushed and streaked by hot tears, a smear of brilliant carmine pulled across her cheek from her lips. “When.” “Soon.” “Soon,” she pouted. “Why can’t you hurry things along with Signore de la Court.” “The time is not right, Catrina. We must build him up before we make our move.” “But Rico, haven’t you realized yet.” Michele Hauf 126 He shrugged. “Did you not see it in his eyes the other day. The Duchess LeReaux has no idea. We can make our move any time.” Rico nodded. “I believe you are right, innamorata. We could take him now, yes, I know…but…you must permit me a little more enjoyment.” He kissed her knuckles, grazing languorously over her sweet flesh. “Please.”

With a resolute sigh she conceded, “Very well. Far be it from me to deny you your fun. But don’t think I can bear this much longer. I cannot. Did you go to his apartment.” Rico pulled an embroidered handkerchief from the inner pocket sown in Cat’s décolletage and used it to remove the lipstick from her face. He then wrapped it carefully about his hand. “Sì.” “What did you discover.” Rico hugged Catrina in his arms, burying his face in her hair and whispered deeply,

“Everything Signore Volierre told us is true. I followed him and waited for sunrise. It’s there. He has one he keeps in a secret alcove.” “Really.” Catrina sniffed away a few lingering tears, her excitement rising. “What was it like. He didn’t know you were there, did he.” “No, I’m sure he did not.” Rico sat on the floor next to her, their backs pressed to the wall, and stretched his legs across the floor. “It was black. A shimmery black as dark as hell.” Catrina’s eyes widened in delight. “It was like most others you’ve seen, except there must have been a lock of some sort on the inside because I tried to lift the lid but it wouldn’t give.” “Oh, Rico, you’re so bold. You should be more careful, we mustn’t let him find out.” “But very soon.” He pulled her to his chest, threading his fingers through her hair, and pressing his nose to the crown of her head to inhale the exotic vanilla. “Though I enjoy the chase, I am tiring of this game, Cat. The man is boring and dull. It amazes me. I expected so much more from a creature such as he.” Catrina nodded agreement. “He is an exquisite lover, but I shall be thankful for the day I never have to touch that horrendous harpsichord again. Oh, I do tire of it, Rico. And my

nails, do you see I have to keep them so short or risk chipping them.” Rico took each of her fingers into his mouth, bestowing upon them kisses of snowflake softness. “After the concert tonight, innamorata. I’ve a few more tricks up my sleeve. And then…you shall have what you deserve.” ***** Sebastian fingered the torn lace that peeked out of his frockcoat sleeve. He had owned this outfit for many years; his mother had given it to him. He remembering savoring the feel of the silver-blue velvet against his face, fingering the cool paste jewels that adorned the matching shoes. Now, the velvet was worn bald in places, the lace torn and the jewels all but gone from their metal settings. This was his best. He checked the other outfits hanging in the new pine wardrobe among the furnishings in the elegant apartment Rico had provided him. There were four more outfits of browns and faded blacks. They would never do. But he did not have time to send for a tailor. He Wicked Angels - Sequel to Dark Rapture 127 remembered now the man he had accosted before going on to Catrina’s bed a few nights ago. He had been quite well off from his dress. A silver sword hung at his side and his tricorn had a fluffy red plume in it. If only I were criminal enough to steal. But he could never do that. Using innocent mortals to sustain his own life was cruel enough without stealing from them also. This outfit would have to do.

He flipped the cover of his gold pocket watch open and checked the time. He pressed it between his palms, sensing Angelique’s gentle touch upon its shiny cover. No, I cannot do this. She mustn’t see me. Perhaps she won’t come. He couldn’t imagine that she w

ould.

Angelique would never accept an invitation with her sister in mourning. Maybe Jacques would come. “I hope my plan works.” Sebastian tossed his wool cape around his shoulders and stepped out onto the streets, spying a haggard cat watching him from a window ledge across the calle. His new apartment was a ten minute walk along the Rio della Sensa to the Palazzo Bellange. When he arrived, Rico had him run upstairs and retrieve Catrina. “Our guests are just arriving. The Duchess la Poozan has returned this evening, I’m sure you’ll remember her. And Signore Bassano is here also. I’m afraid the Duchess LeReaux and her son had to decline. But off with you now, Bastian. Run along up to Cat. She will bring you down and announce you later.” With great relief, Sebastian strode up the stairs. She was not coming! Thank God. He would not have to enact his plan after all. Catrina greeted him with a hug and a deep kiss that instantly warmed his frigid bones. “Ice cold again.” she noticed, placing her hands on her damask covered hips. “It’s the middle of winter, Bastian, why is it you don’t see fit to dress any warmer. Ah, don’t tell me, I think I know. But here, I’ve solved the problem.” She went to a silver-hinged dressing trunk, about as high as her shoulders, and

opened it to reveal a wardrobe adorned with crisp white laces and shimmering jewels. “For you, mi amore. If you are to perform for society’s finest than you should also have the finest. Don’t be shy. Come.” She held out her hand. “Try them on.” Sebastian stepped over to the trunk and ran his hands over the black silk and then the kitten softness of the fur that graced the cuffs of a new wool coat. Catrina kissed his cheek and her vanilla scent lingered sweetly. “Wear the red for me tonight, will you.” The red silk slipped between his fingers like blood in the rain. “Yes, red. How exquisitely perfect.” “Now, my love, I’m going downstairs to help Rico greet our guests. Did Rico mention that the Duchess LeReaux declined.” “Yes, but with her sister in mourning I’m sure—” “Sì, but I’ve already planned for her to come share a drink with us in the near future. I’ll come for you shortly, Bastian.” Sebastian caught Catrina by a handful of her white skirts and pulled her to him. He kissed her, milking her body of a long and precious moan, as he felt her body slacken in his arms. “Oh,” she said, recovering slowly from his kiss. “What was that for.” Michele Hauf 128 “For the most beautiful woman in all of Venice,” he said. “Thank you, Catrina Bellange.” He kissed her hand. “For everything.” She backed away with a sly grin curling up her lips. “Why Catrina, I do believe I’ve made you blush.” In an elegant movement of grace she retrieved a fan from her vanity, snapped it open and d

isappeared out the door.

He felt a prince in the red silk velada his lover had provided. White lace, imported from Belgium tickled his hand, and the same lace tied at his neck. Standing before the floor mirror, Sebastian summed up his appearance. “Not so terribly pale,” he said. The white jabot matched his un-fed complexion, while his dark hair framed it in midnight elegance. And with all worry of meeting his mother vanquished, Sebastian relaxed. “What.” Hearing a strange noise out in the hallway, Sebastian rushed out and looked toward the marble stairs. No one there. He looked the other way, the hallway stretching yards beyond him, and saw there was someone down the way, someone crawling, or maybe had fallen. His new shoes clicked across the parquet as he rushed to assist. As he neared the person, he saw it was a young girl dressed in a thin gauze night robe. Must be one of the unfortunate children Catrina took in. The girl looked up to him, her hair tousled about her head and crusted in spots by what seemed to be and smell of vomit. “Please, Signore.” She pulled herself forward with her hands and clutched Sebastian’s ankle, pulling the white hose down into furrows. “You must help me.” “Oui, I must get you back in bed.” He had to pry her bony fingers from his ankle and was ready to hoist her into his arms when he noticed she had only one leg. And where her other leg should have been, her nightgown was stained a deep brown and stank of the most vile odor he had ever encountered. “No!” She hissed and with a great thrust, pushed her body upright so she leant back against the doorjamb. “You must get me out of here, Signore. Please! I don’t want to die! I

am strong…I can fight this. She is mad!” “You will surely die if I don’t get you back into bed.” Sebastian scooped up the girl and carried her over to the bed. His senses were flooded with the foulness of her odor, but he persevered. Her arms flailed madly, hitting him across the side of the head and her hands pulled at his hair. He cringed as he lowered her to the bed and she ripped many strands of hair from his scalp. “No! You do not understand! She is mad!” Long strands of hairs floated through the air as she waved her hands back and forth, as if fending off an unseeable demon. “The redhaired woman who comes to me, she is wicked! She will bleed my veins dry—” “What is this!” Rico appeared at the doorway, shadowed by Catrina who peeked over her brother’s shoulder. “She was on the floor,” Sebastian turned to explain but found himself instantly being escorted out of the room by Rico. “But—” “No, Signore, do not leave me!” Wicked Angels - Sequel to Dark Rapture 129 “She is delusional,” Rico reassured firmly as he pulled Sebastian out into the hallway. “They are always like that right before they expire.” Expire. There was that word again, always used so casually by Rico. Sebastian sucked in his bottom lip and tried to see back into the bedroom but Rico steered him the opposite direction. “Help me, Signore!”

t she had said about the red-haired woman. She will bleed her dry. Were What was i

these the words of a delusional girl or a truly frightened child.

“Leave her to Catrina. Ahh—” Rico stopped and held a finger in the air as he eyed Sebastian. “You hear that.” The screams had silenced. Quite abruptly, Sebastian noticed. “She has already settled down. Now then, you run along and change your coat.” Rico lifted the hem, stained a slippery brown, most likely from the girl’s gown as Sebastian had carried her to the bed. “I’ll be right there. I just want to check with Catrina to see everything is well.” With one last glance toward the sickroom, Sebastian unbuttoned his coat and gingerly removed the soiled silk as he disappeared into his room. Rico peeked into the sick room to find Catrina examining the brown stain across the front of her skirt. “Any problems.” Catrina blew a strand of hair from her face then lifted the thick goose feather pillow from the bed to reveal the girl’s face, frozen in a death stare. “Not at all.” ***** When all had left for the night, Rico remained, his arms spread across the back of the divan, his sister’s head resting upon his chest. “Come, Bastian.” Catrina patted her lap and Sebastian went to lay his head across the flowered yellow and blue damask. He wasn’t sure why she had changed from the white dress but the blue fabric certainly captured the brilliance of her right eye. She spread her palm across his cheek and lifted the silk ribbon from his hair, releasing it from its bindings. He hugged her legs, feeling safe, welcome, and loved. “So you are happy with the way things went tonight.” “Sì, Rico. This night has been a dream. I can never thank you enough.” Sebastian watched as Rico played softly with Catrina’s hair. “Both of you. You’ve done so

much for me. I’ve made many wonderful friends tonight.” Rico pushed back the hair from his sister’s neck and kissed the vein, causing the roots of Sebastian’s teeth to tingle with hunger. He swallowed, reminding himself he should be going soon. “You are like a brother to us, Bastian.” Rico’s hand glided over Catrina’s exposed décolletage and pushed softly through Sebastian’s hair, savoring, and pulling it spread across the yellow flowers on her bodice, a black veil of satin. “My heart is happy when you are happy.” “So is mine.” Catrina twined her fingers through Rico’s and rested their hands over Sebastian’s hair. Michele Hauf 130 At this moment, everything felt right. He held his palm open to receive Rico’s hand. “I love you both, truly. But you must know I am envious.” “Of what.” “The two of you. The love you share, the way you love one another. You are so close. I only wish I had been half as close to my brothers.” “Well then.” Catrina bent to kiss Sebastian. “We shall be your, mm…foster brother and sister.” “Yes, how perfect. I want you to have this, my brother.” Rico twisted a thick silver ring from his finger and laid it on Sebastian’s palm. “It was a gift from Cat.” The silver circle had been divided into four strands and interwoven into a laced design.

It was lovely, and certainly quite expensive. “If you gave this to Rico, Catrina, I could not—” “No, no, I think it is a very good choice. It is from both of us. Your brother and

sister. Let me put it on.” She slipped it on his finger and followed it with a kiss to his lips. After the glorious night he had already had this was truly the topping. Sebastian buried his face in Catrina’s breasts and spread his arms to encompass Rico, holding tight to the new family he had found. “You have enriched our lives beyond measure, Sebastian. Grazie.” He kissed Sebastian’s forehead and the threesome nuzzled and talked for another hour before Sebastian finally left. Pulling his wool collar up around his face so only his eyes peeked out, Sebastian braved the shrill wind and tromped around the side of the Bellange palazzo. He had decided to take the Grand Canal home tonight, thinking perhaps the Canal de Cannaregio, where the ale shops stayed open into the wee hours of the morning, might produce a warmblooded donor to quench his thirst. And he knew the Palazzo Gilianni, where his mother stayed, was down the same way. Moonlight shone across the slushy puddles of melting snow, making them to sparkle like diamonds scattered across black velvet. It was a fairy tale sight, quickly dashed as Sebastian nudged through the iron gate that opened to the docks. A gondola docked behind the Palazzo Bellange, a wide boat covered with a long black felze, the one Sebastian knew belonged to the Venetian mortician. Slipping close to the wall of the palazzo, Sebastian peeked around the corner and watched as two lackeys dressed in dull brown stood waiting by the servant’s entrance. Suddenly they jumped into motion as the end of a long wooden box appeared

from inside, and they helped to guide it into the gondola. It was a coffin! “Mon dieu, but who.” Sebastian felt his heart squeeze as he realized the girl with the missing leg must have died. Expired, he heard Rico’s strangely casual voice announce. With a slap of the oar across the chilled water the death dirge began its silent journey down the Grand Canal. Sebastian’s breath formed in thick clouds before him as he watched it slink quietly away. “She had been so afraid…” He couldn’t shake the teeth-gritting sound of the young girl’s screams as he and Rico had walked down the hallway leaving Catrina to care for her. Her screams had ended so abruptly. Wicked Angels - Sequel to Dark Rapture 131 ***** The crisp blue paper of Rico’s stationary crinkled in Sebastian’s hand. A messenger from the Bellange estate had just delivered it. Come immediately, it read, we have exciting news. Sebastian flipped the paper to the harpsichord, and retrieved his coat from the brass coat rack by the door. He had no idea what the news could be but it did not matter as long as it was good. The music room flickered madly with dozens of candles set all about as if a shrine to

he waited Rico and Cat, Sebastian went around Diana, the Italian goddess of light. While

blowing some flames out until he felt comfort with the amount of light glowing across his un-

fed face. He stared into a flame, sensing the heat burning in his own heart. Could he keep the charade up forever. How would they react if they found out. They considered him family, a brother. He twisted the thick silver ring around his finger. But would a blood drinking brother send them, and all their goodness, running in fear. Yes, it most certainly would. As it would his mother. He’d received news from a spy this afternoon, Angelique and her son were still in Venice. When would they leave. The spy had seen Angelique’s servant packing things in her room, but he’d also heard Jacques was due to meet with the Council tomorrow morn. If only they would leave before Catrina had a chance to make good on her invitation. “Bastian!” Catrina floated down the marble stairs, her diamond necklace catching the candleglow in flashes of blinding light. On her arm was Rico, dressed in matching blue velvet, a perfect complement to their eye color. They were too lovely not to touch. Sebastian crossed the room and hugged each of them, taking in Catrina’s delightful vanilla flavor and Rico’s brisk strength. “And what is your exciting news.” he gushed. “Not another performance.” “Far greater than that,” Rico said. “Let’s have a toast.” “Oh, I should think so,” Catrina pealed delightfully. “Catrina.” Rico handed her over to Sebastian and strode to the bar. “I think we should open the special cask for our dear friend this evening, don’t you.” “Yes, please, dear brother. It is time. Sit, Bastian.” Sebastian found it hard to sit still with his energy at such a high level, but he tried to relax.

Rico crossed the room carrying three wine goblets. The wine’s color was so deep it appeared almost black as Catrina took one goblet from her brother and kissed his lips delicately. Rico held the other out for Sebastian. “We are forever indebted to you, Sebastian de la Court, for the riches you have brought to our lives. May you reap the rewards you justly deserve, and to us…” he glanced to Catrina, “…all good things. To good friends, and life eternal. Salute!” He raised his glass to drink. Catrina brought her glass from her lips, leaving behind a thick droplet of glistening red which Rico quickly kissed away. Sebastian was about to drink when the scent of the wine jarred him. He sniffed, then joggled the liquid around trying to make out its color, but was unable to see inside the dark colored glass. It smelled so familiar. Michele Hauf 132 “What is this.” Rico draped an arm over his sister’s shoulder. For the first time his smile seemed wickedly mocking as he examined Sebastian’s shaking hand. “Why surely you know, Signore.” Catrina tilted her glass back, finishing its contents in a hearty swallow. Appalled, Sebastian stood and pushed the goblet from her hand, sending it flying across the room and crashing in a thick red st

ain of across the

tiles. “This is blood!” He held his own glass up in example before thrusting it to the tiles too. “Are you mad.” “I’ve never known you to have such a temper, Sebastian.” Rico wiped the smear of blood from Catrina’s cheek and handed her his goblet. “Why do you act as

though we commit a great crime. It is a crime you commit nightly.” His eyes narrowed to slits. “We know this.” “You…know.” Sebastian’s words barely whispered out. He stepped back and nearly fell onto the couch but maintained his stance as he looked Rico up and down. He was amazed when Catrina boldly put Rico’s goblet to her lips and drank again as if he had never had an outburst. “Why. How…” He choked. “How long. I don’t understand…” His knees wobbled and he fell onto the couch. “We’ve known all along.” Rico bent before him and laid a hand on his knee. “And now it has come time for us to ask for our repayment.” “Who told you this.” Sebastian burst out, unable to think straight or to focus clearly. They had known all along. But how. Why had they waited so long to reveal their knowledge. What did they want. “Francesco Volierre.” Catrina stepped forward and casually tossed the goblet behind her to land in a sparkling crash near the other pieces. “Francesco.” Rational thought ceased. Sebastian’s mind spun as dizzily as the snowflakes that melted in the Venetian lagoon. “An acquaintance merely,” Rico began. “As I’ve already explained, we spent a few days with him this summer at one of my Paris apartments.” “But…” Sebastian could not tear his eyes from the blood splattered across the floor, littered with shards of glittering glass. “How did you know—” “Ah, well,” Rico began. “Let us simply say that while we were there, Francesco…took advantage of my sister’s charms.” “He bit me,” Catrina added in a passionate breath. “Yes, and we started thinking after that,” Rico continued. “We approached Francesco with our intentions, but he was firmly against granting my sister’s wish. Of course, he freely

mentioned you…” “Well it is no wonder.” Sebastian clenched his fingers to his palm so his nails pierced his flesh. So this was Francesco’s revenge. Telling the world he was a vampire! “It was a pity he did not feel comfortable with the proposed task.” Catrina sat next to Sebastian, casually stretching her arms across the back of the divan. “He was an exquisite lover.” Sebastian pushed away from her and slid down the couch. “I can’t believe what I am hearing. What is it you want from me. Why have you given me these things and taken me in when you have known what I am.” Wicked Angels - Sequel to Dark Rapture 133 It hit him like an avalanche as Rico’s smile pushed into his cheeks. “After our little stay with Francesco, Cat and I came to realize what it was in life we wanted. You know.

I have already told you what it

is we truly desire, Sebastian.” “Everlasting youth,” Catrina chimed in. “To never fear aging.” Pressing his forehead into his palms, Sebastian hung his head, but Catrina’s mention of everlasting youth, caused him to glance up the marble stairway. Things were starting to make sense now. Morbidly clear sense. His eyes fell over the blood washed across the tiles. “The girl’s…” he whispered. “And so…” Rico paced before the distraught vampire. “In return for our generosity we ask for the one gift that only you can give to us. Eternal life.” That was what he thought. Sebastian flew from the couch, pushing away from Rico’s reach. He paced toward the

broken glass, the smell of warm blood enticing him closer, but then stopped when he realized the attention he was receiving. Yes, that is what they had wanted tonight. They wished to see the monster feast on blood! “That is what we request,” Rico reiterated. “Do you know what you ask.” Sebastian lunged forward, meeting Rico’s mismatched gaze with his own. “I live the life of the damned! I feed on the blood of innocence to prolong my own miserable existence. Is this what you want. To take life from others.” He faltered, knowing now, that was something they already did. “We want to live forever,” Catrina said casually, as if she was merely requesting a refill of tea or another cake. “Ahh!” Sebastian threw up his hands. “The seduction of life everlasting. So you may never have to worry about growing old and decrepit like your poor madre, is that it. Do you think I asked for this. I would never! And I shall not grant this demented wish to either of you.” He started for the door but then rushed back. “Why this way. Why did you take me in and string me along when you could have done out with your horrendous request that first evening.” Rico shrugged and glared mischievously through strands of mahogany hair that had fallen over the side of his face. “I do so love the game.” Sebastian starred at the wicked duo. He did not know what to say, or how to take this startling revelation. He turned and stomped toward the foyer. “You will be back,” Rico called. “Never!” As he stepped outside, Sebastian heard Rico’s last words. “You will reconsider, Sebastian LeReaux!” Rico’s words stopped him dead in his tracks. They knew. Out of the darkness sprung a daring beast, a hunger-starved cat that pulled its

withering body up along Sebastian’s leg, digging its icy claws through his breeches. With a calculated menace, Sebastian slowly reached down and gripped the beast by its neck. His fingers tightened and twisted until he could feel the delicate bones shatter. He tossed the corpse into a slush pile and turned back inside. They knew. They had known all along. No! They would never dare tell Angelique! Michele Hauf 134 Rico and Cat sat upon the rose divan, the king and his brazen mistress, waiting the evening’s entertainment—a foolish jester. Sebastian stopped before them, trying desperately to ignore the enticing scent of blood

, and to control th

that rose up from behind him e anger that threatened to take him over to the divan and strangle the twins as he had the cat. “I beg of you,” he began in a carefully measured voice. “If you have a merciful bone in your body you will not tell Angelique of this.” Cat looked to Rico, the wicked glee shining brilliantly on her face. “Have you a merciful bone, my dear brother.” “Hmm.” Rico held his hand before him, turning it over in careful scrutiny. “No, I don’t believe so, lovely sister.” “Please, she must never know. This information would surely mean her death. She would never understand.” Rico’s chuckle was the devil’s burnt soul come to flesh. “Well then, my friend, I believe you have reconsidered.” Sebastian starred into the man’s eyes, feeling their utter coldness, and seeing the extreme delight. This wasn’t happening. Oh, mother, I cannot do this to you. My heart bleeds to protect you from my evil secret. He smoothed his palms down his frockcoat and pulled it together at his stomach

as if to shield himself. But it was too late… “Very well…I…shall return in a few hours.” They had known all along, and had been ruthlessly plotting and planning since summer. They had befriended him with evil in their eyes, evil Sebastian had been too blind to see. Sebastian smashed his fist into the wall, the silver ring pinching his flesh painfully. He twisted it, but it wouldn’t come off. “Brother,” he laughed dully. “More like sucker.” How he hated the image that formed in his mind. He lay with his head cradled in Catrina’s lap while Rico kissed her, arousing his own carnal desires. She had been so sincere, so luscious when he had fallen into her bed. “Damn! She sleeps with her own brother! She would do anything to get what she wants. How could I have been such a fool.” He clutched his hands to his chest. They had offered their friendship. That was how he had taken as a fool. Friendship was the one thing he desired most in his empty life of blooddrinking and stalking the night. He was a monster! A beast whispered about around the hearth fires, causing children’s eyes to widen with fear, and grown men to shiver as they passed alone through dark passages. Ah, but there was no use in prolonging it. Sebastian left his apartment. There was one thing he had to do before going to the Palazzo Bellange. The Palazzo Gilianni was completely dark save for a few lights on the ground floor level. Most likely servants doing the wash, Sebastian figured. He slipped unobtrusively past a lighted window, the third floor ledge being barely wide enough for him to stand with his feet

Wicked Angels - Sequel to Dark Rapture 135 pressed together, but he had acquired an excellent sense of balance since becoming a blood drinker. As he had hoped, the last window with a light in it found her sitting with her back to him, though he was able to see the side of her face. Pressing his fingers above the cold wooden window frame, Sebastian looked down, seeing minute fragments from the ledge fall to the canal below. One wrong move and he would be swimming in icy water the color of beef broth. He was careful to stand to the side of the window, so should she turn around, he could quickly be out of her sight. He scanned the room, seeing indeed, her trunks were packed, though there were still three dresses hanging in the opened war

drobe.

He knew them to be hers and the memories loosened his firm grimace and he felt warmth spread in his eyes. She was looking at something, a silver locket she cupped lovingly in her aging hands. Hands that had smoothed along his brow when, as a child, he lay in bed with the fever. Hands that had pulled and tugged at his fancy Sunday clothes until she was pleased with his appearance. Hands that had held tight to his whenever the storms came with their screaming thunder. Though he could not see it, Sebastian knew very well the miniature inside the locket. It was him, painted on his eighteenth birthday, one year before he had become a

vampire. And he still looked exactly the same. Her head bowed suddenly and Sebastian pressed a hand to the window, watching as she clutched the locket to her heart. It seemed she might be sobbing. His balance faltered and his shoe slipped from the window ledge. Angelique spun around. Sebastian looked down over the rooftop, seeing the top of his mother’s hair. It was still as dark as his, though there were silver threads running through it, many more than when he had left her in Paris. He pressed his lips together to contain the plea he longed to speak. Angelique pulled the window shut and he heard the nudging slide of the lock against the sill. He lay back across the flat-topped roof, his legs dangling over the side of the palazzo, and pressed his palms over his eyes. “Oh, mère, I love you so. I will carry your memory in my heart for an eternity.” ***** “Very…well.” The room was a blur. Federico sat, the king of his domain in Belgian lace and blue damask, eyeing him amusedly as Sebastian struggled to remain upright. He had lain on the rooftop of Palazzo Gilianni for three hours. Even when icy rain had begun to fall across his lips and saturate the rich fibers of his clothes he could not bare to pull himself away from his mother’s presence. He’d staggered to the Bellange palazzo, his limbs frozen and stiff, not so much from the elements, but from the outpour of emotion that had depleted his soul of all energy. The cold was beginning to leave his body. The room was wretchedly warm thanks to a fire in the hearth and it was all Sebastian could do to keep from rushing for it to

warm his frigid blood. Not that there was much left in his body. “I shall give you the damned life you seek…but I shall change…only one…of you.” Michele Hauf 136 Rico patted the cushion next to him but Sebastian remained standing. Swaying unsteadily, Sebastian looked up the stairs. “Yes, she is in her room. You will transform Catrina now. That is, if you can.” He stood and approached Sebastian curiously. “You’re a mess, my friend, what is it I can do for you so you suffer no more.” “Leave me be!” Sebastian veered away from Rico’s hand and swaggered toward the stairs. “I want nothing more from you save for your solemn promise of silence regarding my mother. Your sister shall have her eternal doom at my hands. After that I wash my hands of the two of you!” He gripped the banister and pulled his aching limbs upward. He passed the Melancholia and bashed his fist across the fragile drawing. “Angels,” he

ear your venomous l

muttered. “They f ife, Rico Bellange,” he yelled down the stairs. “The devil take your soul tonight!” He rounded the top of the stairs and leant against the wall to catch his breath and dispel the dizziness that threatened to pull his body down. It occurred to him now he wasn’t entirely sure he could do this. He had transformed Francesco years ago, but at the time he had been strong and full of mortal blood. Catrina lay on her bed amid frothy cream lace and deep maroon silk. The window curtains were drawn and a single candle wavered on the wall across from the bed. She rested on her elbows, resembling a Carravaggio cherub from one of Rico’s collection.

As Sebastian staggered to her bedside, she held out a hand but he slapped it away. “Don’t make this more miserable by pretending affection toward me. You will get what you have wanted.” “Bastian,” she whispered, seeming distraught, though he could see past the act. Her eyes held the truth, and deep within them lay the lust for the life, the everlasting youth he could provide her. “Lay back!” He shoved her into the feather pillows and let the smirk twist his lips upon seeing her real fright. “Ah, yes.” He opened his mouth wide, revealing snow-white fangs. “You are afraid of me now, Catrina.” She pushed against his chest, but he quickly shackled her arms to her sides. “This is what you have asked for! You mustn’t be a coward, pretty little bitch. Offer up that precious neck to Satan’s slave. Say good-bye to your mortal soul, and don’t ever believe I shall trust you or be your friend again.” Catrina opened her mouth to scream. Sebastian clamped his hand over her mouth, pushed her head to the side and locked onto the vanilla

smooth

flesh. He was determined to take his pleasures without worry of her theatr c fears. Though he found his anger waned as i

her seductive scent filled his nose. She struggled initially, but when the swoon set in, Catrina slipped her hands behind Sebastian’s neck and pulled him close, moaning loudly as if reaching orgasm. La petite morte. Sebastian knew better. She was overacting. Badly. He closed his mind to her

caresses and moans. He wanted only to put an end to his evil task. Within minutes his body was hot with Catrina’s life and he could feel the slow pace of her heart beneath his spread palm. For a second, the thought of finishing the job, of sucking her dry of her incestuous blood, flashed through Sebastian’s thoughts. But that would get him nowhere. There would be Rico to deal with then, and perhaps servants or other witnesses. No, it was too risky. And he was not a murderer. Wicked Angels - Sequel to Dark Rapture 137 It had come time for Catrina to drink from him. Reluctantly, he bit into the vein that pulsed over his wrist and pressed it to her mouth. When she balked, he pushed away her struggling hands and locked his wrist against her lips. “Drink, damn you! If I must force you then I would rather leave you to die. Just be quick about it, I’ve had enough of your inane performance.” As his life was drawn out of his veins, the blood release being a powerful clutch upon his body, Sebastian shuddered. This would be the last time he took pleasure from Catrina Fiorenza Bellange. “Is it done.” Rico appeared beside the bed moments later. Two lackeys stood behind him, the same two Sebastian had seen guiding the coffin into the back of the carriage. They were both trying desperately not to look over their master’s shoulder. “Yes, it is done.” Sebastian rolled off Catrina and sat beside her on the bed, drained, yet vigorously renewed at the same time. “Here.” Rico tossed a leather purse onto Sebastian’s lap. “A gondola is waiting outside to provide your journey to the sea, where you will board a ship to leave the

country.” “What.” Sebastian jiggled the money bag. “Leave the country. Whatever for.” “I think it best,” Rico said firmly. “Don’t you. After all...” He released the evil grin that had been building and stretched his arm before him to encompass the bed. “I have just discovered you in my sister’s bed attempting a bloody murder!” ”Murder.” Sebastian jumped to the floor. “Yes, and I’ve witnesses as you see.” Rico gestured to the dull-witted men behind him. Hardly viable witnesses, but both seeming to be of their senses as they stood shocked at the sight before them. Sebastian flung the leather pouch at Rico’s chest. “You bastard, you will not get

away with this. I’ll…” Adrenaline coursed through his veins and he forgot his gentle nature. He opened his mouth wide to reveal his sharpened weapons. “I’ll kill your witnesses! Who’ll lie for you then.” “Oh hell.” Rico’s chuckling gesture rudely dismissed Sebastian’s threat. “I know you better than that, Signore de la Court.” He did not back down from the vampire who loomed over him. “You are not a killer. And you will be on your way if you value your life. I hear the guillotine is a most unfortunate demise.” Rico spoke to the two men behind him. “That will be all gentleman, I’ll speak with you later.” “But…but my…Angelique—” “Is gone, Signore. I’ve just received word she left Venice less than an hour ago. Bound for Paris, I believe.” An hour ago. She had left almost immediately after he had been there. Catrina gurgled and choked up a mass of thick blood onto her pillow. Rico

rushed to her side. “What is wrong with her!” Sebastian retrieved the leather purse and tucked it inside his frock. “She’s a vampire now. It’s natural…I think. Be sure she drinks from a mortal soon or you’ll lose her.” He stomped out of the bedroom, fuming he hadn’t the nerve to rush through the house and find the two men who had witnessed his actions. But there was nothing he could do. Unless he wanted to rot in prison, or worse, lose his head. He had to keep his silence. Angelique had already left Venice. Michele Hauf 138 Damn! The bastard had planned this so thoroughly. Sebastian would not be surprised if Rico had had some dealings with Signore Gilianni’s death. “Farewell, my friend.” Federico appeared in the hallway outside Catrina’s doorway. “Perhaps we shall meet again some day. But for now, you understand that I must keep you away from Venice. It is best for you, and your mother. You know how rumors fly.” Sebastian stopped in the hallway. He bit down hard on his lip in an attempt to control his rage. “How do I know you will not seek out Angelique.” Rico waving a dismissing hand through the air. “Why. You’ve already given us what we desire. I live for the game, Bastian, but I am not a vindictive man.” The game. Sebastian glared at Rico. How snide he was. “I shall promise to keep as far from your mother as possible. You have my word. Think of it as a thank you for the eternity of life and power you have granted my sister and I,” Rico added, so casually, as if Sebastian had merely brought them a boxed gift for a wedding or

birthday, instead of working the curse of immortality on his sister. “Addio.” Sebastian turned slowly, feeling for the moment relief. Perhaps it would be good to get away from Venice and the Bellange twins after all. But the relief was only momentary. “I wish you only the hell I have endured thus far, Federico. You deserve that much and more. But I am sure it will come to one who has danced with the devil for most of his incestuous life.”

ed his voice to a w

He lower icked whisper. “When you kiss your sister tonight, Federico, remember that it is my blood that rushes through her veins now. She is no longer completely yours.” Sebastian smiled and turned away. Wicked Angels - Sequel to Dark Rapture 139

Part Three

Michele Hauf 140 Chapter Nineteen

Spain, 13th century Esmarelda stepped back down into the bowels of the fire’s remains after retrieving the tiny red vial Paquita had once used for medicinal powders. Adriano’s ashes were mixed with the charred remains of his coffin. Her heart gulped for blood as she touched the soft grayness that was her husband’s remains. Esmarelda swallowed to dispel the uneasy lurk in her throat. She could not cry. Her tears had flowed freely through the night and day. When she had woke this evening she touched her face to find salted tears had dried in twisting trails across and down her cheeks. She was depleted of physical emotion. “Adriano, my love. I will carry your memory with me forever.” Carefully she funneled his ashes through her cupped fingers and into the vial. She scooped from the center of the pile where the ashes were the thickest and darkest in color. His heart. “I live because of you, my tormented love. May god have mercy on your soul and welcome you into his arms as I had once held you.” Esmarelda pushed the cork stopper into the vial and stood. “Adios, my vampire lover. I promise you I shall never let the sun quiet my day without a thought of you.” She pressed a hand to her stomach, knowing with a woman’s intuition of the new life that had begun inside her. “You shall have your immortality, Adriano.” ***** Los Angeles, present Sebastian spread his arms out from his sides. He lay on the bed, exhausted from

his tale. When all was told he had come to a realization. All those he had ever loved and trusted had betrayed him. All…except Angelique, who had gone to her grave completely unaware of his secret. And of this, he was still glad. But how he could keep winding up in the company of people who would play false against him was beyond his own comprehension. Over the centuries, he had had but a handful of good friends. Mortal and immortal. Francesco, Federico and Catrina, Angelo, Rosita—dear Rosita—Herb, his manager, and Gary and Scarlet. Why did I never become a recluse. Sebastian wondered. “You never told me this before,” Scarlet said from her perch on the windowsill. She had sat in silence for almost five solid minutes before speaking. Obviously brooding over the things he had revealed. “You’ve shared so little with me, Sebastian. I thought I was your only blood child. And then I found out about Francesco, and now…Catrina and Federico.” “Just Catrina.” “Excuse my mistake,” she snapped.

d she

The tension stretching Sebastian’s brows exceeded tightness. Ha

heard nothing of his pain. They had sat here all day as he’d poured out his soul. And this had only been a Wicked Angels - Sequel to Dark Rapture 141 small portion of his life. Scarlet wondered why he never told her of his life. It was just too damn hard remembering the pain!

“Did-did you love her.” Sebastian sighed and closed his eyes. No matter how the story ended, he had fallen in love with Catrina Bellange. And Federico. Though, looking back, he wondered if what he had felt for the beautiful multi-color-eyed woman hadn’t been more lust than love. No. Truly, he had loved them both. And now Catrina lay imprisoned in some dusty old coffin behind a room of rotting corpses. Forgotten and unloved. No matter what lies Rico told Vince about his love for his sister, there was one thing Sebastian was sure of, if a man loved a woman he could never do that to her. “Yes, I did love Catrina. And Federico.” “So you’ve been in love many times before.” She was angry at him now! The tables of betrayal were beginning to turn. Sebastian sat up on his elbows and blasted her with a look that would have frozen the Pacific. “Scarlet, I have lived for almost three centuries. Do you expect a man can live that long without ever falling in love. Albeit, my love for Catrina was a lesser love than I have for you. The love I hold for you runs through my very veins.” He clenched his fist in the air, demanding she heed his words. “It is not the false, lustful love that a man falls into many times in his lifetime. Do you understand.” He awaited her reply but she could only stare absently at him. “Ahh…” He fell back across the bed, feeling any argument he gave her would be futile. “I am a man, I do have feelings. You cannot reasonably expect anyone to live for centuries without satisfying the carnal desires.” “But—” Scarlet stopped abruptly. “But what.” He sprang from the bed and stood before her. “You, my lady, are in no position to judge.” “I-I know. I’m sorry, Sebastian. I don’t know what to say. What this information

does to me—” “What you did to me!” He knelt below her, forcing her to meet his eyes. “You allowed Vince to touch you!” Scarlet winced. “He touched you as only I should! Me, the man who is your soul, and who cherishes you. Do you know by giving your body to Vince you let him feel your strengths and your weaknesses as only I have.” “He didn’t have me, Sebastian. We just—” “He touched you, did he not.” She nodded. Sebastian’s voice threatened to give way, but he swallowed and went on. “You let him hold you in his arms. He knows you now, Scarlet. As I do! I…I cannot understand…” Scarlet bit her lip as Sebastian hung his head before her in resignation. She reached to touch his hair, stopping inches away, afraid to feel the shimmer this time. Afraid to feel the ties that bound them together for eternity. Ties that had been tangled and frayed by both of them. He had loved before. He has always told me I was the only one. Sebastian dashed away from her and strode across the room. “We must get her out.”

ichele Hauf 142 M

“What. Who. Catrina.” Scarlet took no precautions in hiding the blatant shock on her face. “No! There has to be a good reason Rico locked her inside that coffin.” He paced away, nodding negatively as he did. “Possibly, but I don’t know. No one deserves to be locked away like that. Not even Cat…”

“So it’s Cat now, is it.” Sebastian swung around. His cool glance instantly doused Scarlet’s angry grimace. “Sebastian, I-I never wanted things to happen the way they did with Vince,” she blurt out. “But things did not happen as you think. You must believe me. It’s just I’m so confused about myself right now.” He shook away her outstretched hand. “I shall concern myself with you and Mr. Lyons later. For now, I must overlook your infidelities if you are to help me.” “Help you. With what.” “I must go to Catrina.” Sebastian drew himself straight and thrust his chin valiantly. “Even though she is damned and evil she has no right to be kept locked away. I did love her once.” He pounded his fist against his open palm. “I must find out what is going on with Federico and Cat.” ***** They drove in total silence, save for the radio, which Sebastian turned up to blasting level. A bubblegum pop tune that was too upbeat for the heavy mood. The music gnawed at Scarlet’s brain and she had taken to chewing on her thumbnail. She was thankful when they pulled onto Rico’s estate. I do still love you, Sebastian. She wondered if he could hear her mental thoughts. Hoped and prayed he could, for she did not know how to speak them at the moment. All lights were out in the mansion, which didn’t mean much to either of them. Darkness was a comfort in a vampire’s lair, and most of the rooms occupied by Rico and his family were inner rooms which meant no visible light from the outside. But the van normally parked out front was not and neither was Vince’s Monte Carlo, so Scarlet felt

confidant the house was empty. Sebastian assumed the place had an alarm, and looked to Scarlet for a possible entrance. She shoved her hands in her jacket pockets and shrugged. She couldn’t think of one until she remembered the iron bars in the room where Catrina’s coffin rested. “This way,” she said, and ran around to the side of the house, scanning the ground level. There were no bars or windows around the base of the mansion, the entire structure was solid brick. “Did you even see a coffin. Or was that all imagined, too.” Ignoring his petulance, Scarlet stalked past him in the grass. Her feet fell upon a redstone path that led up to a utility shed across the lawn. Of course! The shed seemed about the right distance when she thought of the length she had walked the underground hallway. Racing ahead, she quickly circled the small structure. Three iron bars were set into the brick near the ground. She slipped her fingers between the bars and glass and tried them, but they gave little. Wicked Angels - Sequel to Dark Rapture 143 Sebastian came up behind her, roughly pushing her aside. Scarlet landed on the grass. His manners regarding her had taken a full circle in the opposite direction since her

ery excited about getting to his old lover. confession. Or else, he was v

Dusting the grass blades from her elbows, she stood and watched Sebastian wrestle

with the iron bars. “Pretty eager to get your hands on her, aren’t you.” One thick bar gave, sending Sebastian flying onto his back in a spray of shattered glass. “As you were to Vince.” Why bother trying to vindicate herself by explaining nothing had even happened. Nothing except kissing and groping and getting as close to naked as possible. Sebastian had already decided her guilty before the trial. And his eagerness to get to Catrina sickened her. He didn’t deserve an explanation. If he could so much as think she would betray him by making love to another man then so be it. He didn’t deserve her trust. He succeeded in removing the other bars and carefully broke away the remaining glass. The two of them slipped inside the two foot wide space into the darkened room, landing with a crackling crunch on the broken glass. The stench immediately overwhelmed, causing Sebastian to gag while Scarlet held her hand over her mouth and nose. “Should have brought a flashlight,” he choked. Scarlet still had the lighter in her coat pocket. The tiny flame brightened the air around them in a circle about five feet wide. She plugged her nose and spoke,” You still think I’m lying about the dead bodies. Have a look over here.” She thrust the lighter through the door hole and Sebastian gazed across the carnage. “It does not surprise me at all,” he said, clearing his throat. “It’s running out of butane,” she said. “Yes, I noticed. Flick it quickly so I can see what I’m working with and then leave me to take care of things.” “Certainly, your highness.” She caught his jarring glare as the light flashed over his face and then flickered out. Standing in the center of the room, Scarlet listened as Sebastian’s hand ran over the cold

chains and his boots stepped from one end of the coffin to the other, crackling over bits of glass and debris. She heard a buzzing and jumped when the wings of a cor

pse

fly passed over her nose. Her aversions lurched to her throat and she reached out, feeling Sebastian’s shoulder. “Hurry up, or I promise you, I’ll puke.” “So eloquent you are, my lady.” He shrugged off her touch. “Are these the charms that attracted your lover.” But I didn’t make love to Vince! But why should he believe her when he already assumed the opposite. If only he would have let her tell him everything. If only she felt compelled to tell him. For some reason it didn’t matter at the moment. Defiance rushed through her veins. “Well…at least Vince lets me do as I please.” “And that would be killing innocent mortals and leaving them to lie in a putrid pit of hell.” “I did not partake in anything that lies in that stinking room! Though it burns me to admit that I wish I had just for the chance at forsaking you and your stupid rules.” Michele Hauf 144 Sebastian’s hand lashed through the air, catching Scarlet’s wrist in his iron grip. “I have never forced you to do a thing, Madame, that would cause you harm, or irrevocable damage such as what I witnessed last night. You were mad when you came home. “Vincent Lyons, on the other hand, is a miserable excuse for a vampire, as is his fiendish friend, Federico Bellange. They prey on the weakness and fear of mortals. They

have no respect for the human condition and I shall never consider them to be a part of my race. They are animals! As you would plainly see should I thrust you into the next room.” His breath hissed across her face. Scarlet tugged back, but Sebastian clutched her tightly and pulled her to his chest. “Can you not see what you have done to me by taking up with these men. You are my soul, Scarlet. I trusted you!” He released her wrist and turned to the coffin. I’m not taking up with them. I don’t even want to see Vince anymore. Nor do I want to please you after all I have learned today, Sebastian DelaCourte. She backed away as the chains hugging the coffin began to snap and fly off, aided by the force of Sebastian’s rage. She shielded her face, not so much from the flying links but from Sebastian’s anger burning like a blaze in the hazy room. “Bring the lighter over here,” he snapped and she rushed to obey. The stone cover scraped across the box and as the light filled the room Scarlet peered over Sebastian’s shoulder into the dusty confines of the sarcophagus. There was a woman inside. At least it resembled a woman. “I wonder how long she’s been in there.” “Maybe she really is dead,” Scarlet offered. “Then why the chains to hold down a dead corpse.” he said, surveying the contents. “No, she is alive. There is still flesh on her bones, though it has wrinkled and dried. Look here.” He lifted a snarl of matted hair. “It would crumble with tim

e if

there were not a minute amount of vampire blood pushing slowly through her withered veins. Others have survived centuries to reawaken, I’ve heard tales.” Sebastian pushed a hand under the dried relic and lifted.

“No! You can’t lift her. She’ll crumble.” Considering her words, he gently lowered the head back. Scarlet clamped her hand over her mouth. What the hell am I doing. Giving him advice on how to get his dried lover out. “Then I shall revive her right here.” He jumped inside the coffin, carefully placing his feet to either side of the withered legs. The room fell still. Scarlet listened as he shuffled about inside the narrow confines of the sarcophagus, his boots scraping across stone. She heard a ripping noise, as if leather were being torn. “What are you doing, Seb—” “Silence!” Firmly admonished, Scarlet stepped toward the window and listened intently. “Her mouth is so dry,” he said to no one in particular, more as if he were talking his way through the procedure. “Come here, Scarlet. I need you to pry her lips apart so I can drip my blood into her mouth.” Oh, well, that was certainly high on her list of things she most wanted to do. Pry a dried vampire’s lips apart so her lover could drip his blood into it and revive her for a grand old reunion. No problem. Wicked Angels - Sequel to Dark Rapture 145 “Scarlet!” Snapping to motion, she groped her way to the coffin. Sebastian grabbed her hand and pulled it down so she could feel the dry parchment that was Catrina’s face. “Well, I guess this is better than walking through corpse hell.” “I would appreciate your silence,” he said swiftly. No pleasing this guy tonight. Feeling her way about the woman’s dried face she located the crusted mounds she assumed were lips. The jaws were stiff but she was able to pry them apart and

felt the first drops of blood on her fingers as Sebastian bit into his flesh and lowered his mouth to the parched vampire. Feeling once more like a voyeur as she assisted in some twisted sexual practice between a man and his dried vampire, Scarlet closed her eyes and rolled her head to the side, thinking there were probably more pressing things for her to do at the moment. Lounging in the garden at home, soaking in a luxuriant bath, or even helping Anthony prune the viciously thorned rose bushes seemed a treat compared to this. “Step back.” Sebastian nudged her hand and she pulled back. What followed was nothing less than incredible. Though she couldn’t see, what she heard was more than enough to determine what was going on. After long minutes, a rustling started within the boxy depths of the coffin. A sharp cracking noise, as if bones were snapping straight, knees were bending, and arms began to animate beneath a rubbery shroud of dried skin. Skin Scarlet felt sure became more supple with each reviving drop of blood Sebastian dripped into the vampire’s mouth. Sebastian’s lingering moan did more than startle Scarlet—it infuriated her. My God, she thought, I’m jealous of some stiff! But the next sound sent chills down her spine. The sound of her lover moaning and the ripping of flesh as

the

sharpened daggers of his reincarnated vampire lover sank deeply into his neck. Scarlet stepped forward in the darkness, then stopped. She heard a new sound now. The sound of a female voice as it awakened to a new life.

Michele Hauf 146 Chapter Twenty

Sebastian brushed his cheek along the renewed flesh. The dried corpse had reanimated quickly, the cheeks filling out and moistening, her lips becoming slippery with saliva and the hair softening into fine silk across her forehead. “Sebastian.” He remembered Scarlet stood in the darkness. “We must take her home with us. She is still too weak.” “Did she…revive. Is she—” “She is as you are now.” Not quite as lovely, he remembered, though it mattered no longer. He now stood in the presence of two women who had betrayed his love. He felt drained and tired. He wished to go home and crawl into the comforts of his coffin and forget them both. But he had started something here tonight he must finish. He had to find out why Catrina had been locked away by her brother and what Rico was up to. That bastard could not remain in the same town as he. Not without a fight. “What time is it.” “It’s only been an hour,” Scarlet answered. “Then we must hurry. We’ll have to go through the house. I don’t want to push her through the window in her fragile condition. Open the door for me and I’ll carry her.” He listened for a creak of a door, some motion, but heard none. “Scarlet.” “I can’t,” she whispered. “I can’t go through that room again, Sebastian, it’s too gross.” Immortality had hardened him over the two centuries he had lived, but Scarlet was still so new, so affected by her surroundings.

“There’s no light, Scarlet. Now come on, you won’t see a thing.” “That’s what I mean, I won’t see! I might step on something. Can’t we try to hoist her up to the window.” “Open the door now,” he demanded. “I will not argue with you when we’ve so little time. Now, do it!” Her footsteps skittered away and he turned to lift Catrina in his arms. She was heavy, her dead weight being over a hundred pounds, he thought. But he could feel his blood flowing through her veins, reviving, warming and renewing, as it had over two centuries ago when he first created her. His blood child. His insincere, spoiled, nasty brat blood child. You must be crazy, he thought. Why are you doing this. Is it because you have some vicious desire to be used by women. Can you never leave well enough alone. Both of these women have spurned you once already. The door creaked open and he walked blindly, recalling the door in the other room had been directly across from him when he had scanned the scene earlier. “Hold onto my shirt so you won’t get lost,” he offered. Sebastian stepped on something hard. He instantly pictured a thin finger bone, but walked on, shrouding his senses to the carnage.

hed deeply, inhaling smoke tinged air to rid his Once out and up the stairs, he breat

senses of the putrid vapors. Catrina hung limply in his arms, motionless, though the shimmer Wicked Angels - Sequel to Dark Rapture 147 was becoming stronger. She was gaining strength with each breath she took, but she would

need more blood to recover completely. The hallway was dark. They walked quickly and soon the moonlight shone ahead of them. Scarlet rushed to the foyer. Sebastian looked around. Rico’s taste for the extravagant hadn’t changed. Had he become selfish over the years. Did he lock his own sister away so there would be more for him. He found it hard to comprehend when there was only the deep love he remembered between the two of them. The second floor was lined with a trail of doors. Most likely bedrooms, Sebastian presumed. I wonder if there are any sick children locked behind them. As they crossed the massive front room, Sebastian paused in the moonlight to look over the sleeping vampire in his arms. Catrina’s clothes had rotted to threads and her breasts, full and pink, pushed through strands of an ancient crimson dress fashioned in the style of the 1920’s. He felt an irresistible shock of desire as his eyes fell across her nipples, which were soft and shaded a dark rose. Her hair hung over his arm, a deep mahogany that reminded him of a velvetcovered book he once owned. Pale as snow, her face, though lightly flushed in the cheeks. He knew she needed more blood to regain full consciousness. He bit into his lip again and pressed them to her mouth. “Drink, Catrina,” he whispered and looked up from his kiss into Scarlet’s jealous stare. She tapped her watch and turned away. “It is Sebastian DelaCourte,” he said into Catrina’s mouth. “Please…don’t remember me as an enemy but as a friend who got tangled in one of your webs. You were young, you could think only of yourself. I…I hold no grudge now. I wish to help you.” It

seemed she stirred in his arms and a tiny

whisper escaped her pursed lips in a gurgle of his blood. “Lover.” Sebastian clutched her tightly and dashed into the night where Scarlet waited at Anthony’s car. It was a good thing they’d taken the Lincoln instead of the Porsche. “Give me your coat. Her clothes are falling to pieces.” Scarlet wrestled it off and tossed it to him, landing it across Catrina’s face. “Help me,” he insisted. “Don’t be so obstinate. Open the door, I’m going to lay her in the backseat.” Obeying mechanically, Scarlet stood by the door, bowing deeply as Anthony often jokingly did, and then closed it after Sebastian had deposited his new pet. “Would you like me to drive, master.” she asked sarcastically. “Oh, would you.” he replied sharply. “Give me the keys. I’ll drive. The mood you’re in will have us in an accident before we ever get home.” Scarlet stomped her foot into the loose pebbles on the drive. “My mood.” “Get in.” He paused, sternly looking over the hood of the car. “Or are you going to stay and wait for your lover. Perhaps he’ll bring a nice morsel home for the two of you to share.” Rage brightened her eyes to a brilliant emerald. A sight that had always filled Sebastian with desire. But a part of him slumped, falling deep into the pit of his stomach. I shouldn’t tease her so. I will regret this, I’m sure. “Would you prefer I did stay.” Michele Hauf 148 I don’t think I could survive without your presence. “No. I’ll need your help when we get home.” ***** “How is she doing.”

Scarlet bent over the back seat and flipped on the ceiling light. The reincarnated vampire shivered. It was amazing how Sebastian’s blood had so quickly transformed a bone-dry skeleton into a living, breathing woman. Vampire, Scarlet corrected her thoughts. Beneath the cover of her jacket, Scarlet examined the pink flesh rounded to smooth curves over Catrina’s hips and thighs. Her fingernails were long and ragged, which generally stopped growing last of all things after a vampire went into hibernation. “I think she’s scared.” “I imagine so, if she’s been locked away for any amount of time she may never have been in a car before. Does she look like she’s conscious, like she knows what’s going on.” Scarlet lifted the woman’s hair from her face to reveal one brilliant azure eye and one a dead gray. One is mine, the other my sister’s. A pale hand snatched forward, catching her sharpened nails across the back of Scarlet’s hand. “Ouch!” She slid back into her seat, sucking the blood from the back of her hand. “She clawed me. What kind of monster did you create.” “Stop blaming me for everything that hurts you.” He shifted into park and opened the door. “We need gas. You fill, I’ll run inside and pay.” He slammed the door and walked around to her window. “That is if you can handle

a gas tank without causing yourself harm. I wouldn’t want to something as complex as filling

be responsible for you setting yourself aflame.” Scarlet thrust her tongue out at him as Sebastian stalked away. As he entered the tiny supermart a trio of teenage girls spied him. Knowing how he hated drooling fans, Scarlet got out of the car, smiling to herself. Serves him right, she thought, and shoved the

pump into the gas tank. She glanced into the backseat, finding Catrina still shivered in a huddle, and eyed the service station again. Sebastian stood in front of the counter patting his pockets while a gaggle of wide-eyed teenage girls eyed him dreamily. He forgot his wallet. He never did carry money with him, finding it wasn’t necessary, for he had no need for it. Anthony was always the one who carried his credit cards. Pissed she had to go inside and bail him out, Scarlet stalked toward the supermart. “Ah, ladies.” Sebastian slipped away from the pawing young girls who waved pens and scraps of paper before him. “I’m sorry, but my girlfriend is here.” He slid over to Scarlet and stood behind her as she waited for her cash card to be swiped. “Your girlfriend is out in the car,” Scarlet muttered and stomped past the teenage girls. Sebastian followed, passing her by on the way to the car. Something snapped. Scarlet stopped, clenching her fists at her sides. “You know, Sebastian,” she blurt out, causing him to stop abruptly in his tracks in the middle of the pumping port. Wicked Angels - Sequel to Dark Rapture 149 He turned around with a now what. look on his face. So damn sexy, even in his anger. “I think I’d like to settle this right here and now. You’ve been treating me like grave dirt for the entire night and I need to know where I stand with you.” “Grave dirt—” he approached her calmly, his fingers steepled together before his chest

“—I enjoy. I have never betrayed you in the time we have been together, and I will not tolerate it from you!” “Fine! I never wanted this false relationship in the first place.” “False.” She could feel his breath on her lips as he spoke. “How can you call the love I have given you false. The undying devotion, the constant care and nurturing. I have given you everything you have ever desired, Scarlet, yet you repay me by sleeping with another man.” “I did not! Why won’t you believe me. I never desired immortality,” she said, her anger causing her to leave his misconceptions as they were. “And did I.” Frozen by his stare, a trance of memories floated before Scarlet’s eyes. The truth was far stranger than any fiction novel could ever record. Sebastian had taken her mortal life from her without her consent. But she had actually been the one to take his mortal life from him first. After living the vampire life for less than a week she had been kidnapped back through time where she discovered a pre-vampire Sebastian, a young boy of nineteen with hopes of marrying and beginning a new life. And she, in a selfish move with hopes of returning to her own time, had changed him into a vampire to insure she would spend the rest of

with him. Had she had made a mistake. her life

If he could actually believe she would want Vince over him, then so be it. She wanted nothing to do with a man who had so little trust in her. She glanced away from his accusing

stare. “She’s gone!” Scarlet raced to the car where the door hung open, exposing the empty back seat. Michele Hauf 150 Chapter Twenty-One

Vince crossed the marble floor and fell into a thick reclining chair of softest rust suede. Rico followed suit, spreading out on the matching couch and pushing splayed fingers through his hair. “Where’s the van.” Rico stretched and sat up. “Blake and Rowdy are out scamming for blood, as Blake would say. I’m sure they’ll be back soon.” “Damn, I could use a nice warm body myself.” Vince’s thoughts took him to Scarlet. She hadn’t wanted to make love on the rooftop. He should have never attempted it. God, you almost raped her! Damn, she was so enamored of Sebastian. But she let you kiss her. You were so close. No. She had still been slipping on the edge of blood rapture; she hadn’t been of sound mind at the time. So I’m a bastard. But she needed me. I know she did. Vince glanced over Rico’s closed eyelids and slack jaw, thinking the guy had already slipped into a light sleep. He mentally kicked himself for pushing things with Scarlet, he would have liked to find out if she had come up with any leads regarding the diary. She would never give him the time of day now. If only he hadn’t been thinking with his cock instead of his heart.

Though, admittedly, sometimes it was hard to determine between the two of them. Vince’s stomach lurched painfully. The constant feeding he’d conditioned his body to withstand would never let him forget when it was time for sustenance. “Come to me,” came the soft whisper from the couch. Rico held out a hand, jeweled in blue and silver, steady and calm like the heart that had beat beneath his breast for two centuries. Seeing Vince’s reluctance he tilted his head, inquiring softly. “Have you never taken from your own sex.” Rico’s question immediately brought Francesco’s wicked sneer to Vince’s mind. His illregarded blood master had told him more than once that he preferred men and women equally. The memory of Francesco’s hands touching him so casually—yet so letcherously, now he thought of it—made Vince’s skin crawl. He looked to Rico, sitting there silently, patiently. He would drop his hand and forget his offer immediately if Vince refused him. Rico was that kind of man, he would never push or force someone into anything. The thought of touching another man...in an intimate way… Vince pressed his back into the chair. But this wasn’t about sex, this was about nourishment. The blood hunger needed to be answered. He knelt on the floor by the couch. As he leant to Rico’s neck the brut, cedar smell of the man’s flesh tempted Vince to kiss lightly the vein before tasting his blood. He closed his eyes, inhaling the essence of Rico’s blood, finding it much the same as the attraction a woman’s perfume worked on him when he wanted her badly. He pulled away the soft strands of mahogany hair, slipping his fingers around the back of Rico’s head, and bit deep, opening the vein in a hot gusher.

cked Angels - Sequel to Dark Rapture 151 Wi

The older vampire cradled Vince against his chest and moaned softly as the powerful sensations of blood release coursed through his body. When Vince finished, and the swoon painted a silly blood grin on his face, Rico pulled him up into his embrace and latched onto his vein. “Yes,” Vince whispered and melted into the vampire’s fatherly embrace. He was accepted without question by this man. He could do no wrong, and would expect the same from Rico. He finally had family. Rico pulled his teeth abruptly from Vince’s neck. He sniffed the air as a bloodhound does when searching for its prey. The blood had renewed his tired senses and he was back to his normal self. “Something’s wrong.” Vince slumped to the floor, rubbing his neck, and licked his palm clean of his own blood finding it delightful to wallow in the swoon this time. “What do you mean, man. This is about as right as things have ever been—“ Rico soared past Vince. “Come.” Saddened his enjoyment of the swoon was being so abruptly terminated, Vince staggered to his feet and they floated down the hallway and into the darkness. Rico paused at the t-turn. “My God. No!” He raced further into the darkness and, with Rico’s blood in his system, Vince was able to follow by tracking the man’s scent. “What’s going on, Rico. I don’t understa—” Vince plunged right into Rico’s side. Okay, so maybe he hadn’t got the bloodhound thing down yet. Rico’s breath chilled over Vince’s lips. “Don’t you feel it. I know you can. You’ve said to me before that you’ve noticed the heaviness, the sad feeling that comes over you when

you’re down this way.” “Yeah, but—” Vince made a sensory check of his surroundings. The hallway was silent, save for Rico’s accelerated breathing. A faint whiff of cedar tickled his nose and something else that seemed a bit rancid, and it was very cold. “Hmm…it does feel a little different, not so murky—the air—” “That was her!” Rico pulled Vince’s hand along with him as he thundered forward into the darkness. “I’ve always been able to feel her presence. I’ve kept her near me even though I knew that I can never be with her again. Vince, something is wrong! I can’t feel her anymore.” They landed three steps and Vince heard a door crack open. It seemed to him it was very heavy for Rico was only able to move it slowly as stone groaned and scraped against stone. Rico clutched Vince’s hand to his chest and pulled him close. “Hold tight to me so you don’t stumble in the dark. This is the pit, Vince, you know what we’re going to walk through.” The pit. Yes. Blake had explained this was where all the bodies were disposed. A fact that had never disturbed Vince until he stepped inside the chilling hollows of the stinking pit.

ich was good. The

“Oh God!” He couldn’t see a thing, wh smell brought the bile to his throat. Rico squeezed his hand. “There’s a door just ahead.” In the next room a stream of early dawn light filtered through the window in the wall where he noticed the bars and glass had been forcibly removed. “A candle,” Rico commanded. “Out in the hallway. Quickly!”

Michele Hauf 152 Vince blindly rushed back the way they had come, realizing half way the room he was in was peopled with dead bodies. Pressing his hand over his nose and mouth, he rushed to the steps and grabbed a candle from an iron bracket on the wall and then reluctantly stepped back across the room. “Rico.” “Right here.” Rico’s hand touched his elbow and Vince gave him the candle. Seconds passed before a small yellow glow encompassed the pair. Vince stood back, holding the flickering light as Rico approached the vandalized sarcophagus. The room instantly filled with the loudest, deepest wail that Vince had ever heard. “Nooo!” Rico clung to the stone mount, his body slumping against it in defeat, his knees buckling. “Someone has taken her, Vince. She could have never gotten out on her own. I made sure of that.” Not sure what was going on, Vince picked up a thick length of chain that had been strewn over the coffin lid and dropped it on the floor. The rising dust made him to choke. “I don’t think I’m following you here, Rico. Christ!” He gagged, as a deep breathe pulled dust and the noxious odors into his throat. “I take it your sister was in the coffin. But why would someone want to steal a dead body.” Rico’s breath came out in fervent pants. “Why would you assume she was

.” “Well...you said you’d lost her years ago. dead

And…if she was in a coffin—” The light bulb exploded above Vince’s head. “Ooookaaay. I think I got it now.” He couldn’t believe he hadn’t realized it before. “Are you telling me your sister was a vampire, too. But why—” “Catrina” —Rico stood tall and reached for Vince, laying a shaking hand on his shoulder— “was my blood master. She created me. It’s a long story.” He swallowed and used Vince’s shoulder to rest against. “But you must know I have never loved another as much as I love her, Vince. Even in her confinement my heart has stayed true to her.” “Well, I can understand, she was your sister—” “We were twins,” Rico explained. “Born into the world from a shared womb we grew to share everything in life. We were two bodies who shared one heart, one soul.” He turned to the coffin and pressed his palm into the cold, barren stone. “You can’t imagine how hard it was for me to lock her away. I grieve her absence daily, and caress her presence as well. Vince, whoever took her away from me—who would have done this. Whoever did this does not know what they have on their hands.” Vince pulled his t-shirt up and pinched it over his nose. “What do you mean.” he said nasally. “Why did you lock her away.” “I simply had no choice.” Rico heaved a great breath and leant against the sepulcher, the rancid smell seeming not to bother him. “It was earlier this century, perhaps about 1920 or 1921. She was mad, Vince. The nightmares consumed her until she could no longer determine whether they were real or the life she lived was nightmare.” “But the fear,” Vince interrupted. “There are no nightmares with the fear.” “Yes.” Rico raised a weary finger. “But we hadn’t yet discovered that delicacy. No, we were still compassionate, killing only in trust then, desiring only the blood of eternal youth

without the struggle. As you know so well. I discovered the fear immediately after putting Catrina to her rest. I was so lost and angry then…” Wicked Angels - Sequel to Dark Rapture 153 Vince stared at the pile of dusty chains on the floor, each link the size of a woman’s fist. He couldn’t imagine being locked away, and because of that, had always chosen to sleep in a bed to prevent the possibility of never being able escape from a locked coffin. “Why didn’t you just—” “Kill her. Oh no, that is impossible.” Rico’s eyes closed as he hugged his body tight with crossed arms. “Don’t you see, Vince. With Catrina’s death…I would die too.” He turned and walked to the window, falling into the shadows of the room. “Not physically, but there would be no reason for my survival after she is gone from this earth. You can not imagine the bond between twins, Vince. It is an immeasurable force that we choose to embrace with all our physical being, instead of trying to be separate and different as the twins of the modern times do.”

tly at Vince’s side

He appeared silen , startling him. “I must get her back. I cannot allow her to be harmed.” “I still don’t understand, Rico.” He dropped his t-shirt and touched the edge of the coffin. It was icy cold. “Who is going to steal a stiff vampire. I mean, it has to be someone who knew that you kept her down here—” “Wait!” Rico clung to the fabric on Vince’s back, twisting tightly as he scanned his thoughts. “It was that bitch of yours.”

“Who. You mean…Scarlet. Wait a minute, she would never—” “I found her down here last night, Vince. She said she was lost, that she had been looking for you. Oh, that miserable women, she is to blame for this.” “Scarlet was here last night. Why didn’t you tell me. I asked—” Rico waved him off. “It was after you had asked.” “Wait a minute, even if Scarlet was down here—which I have trouble believing since I know she would never willingly cross the pit—she would never steal a body. She couldn’t, at least not by herself.” “If this is his style of revenge…” Rico smacked a solid fist into his palm. “You said she lives with Sebastian DelaCourte.” Vince nodded. “It was him! If the two of them are together then I know it has to be. We go back a long way, Vince.” Rico made for the door. “Come on, we have to find them.” “Wait a minute!” Vince stumbled across something on the floor and nearly fell, but he instantly pictured what was lying on the ground and miraculously caught himself mid-fall. “What do you mean, you and Sebastian go back a long way. I thought you didn’t know him.” Rico drew in a long breath and sighed. “Like I said, it’s a long story. Come, I’ll explain everything on the way. You’re going to show me where DelaCourte lives.” ***** “I can’t believe you let this happen!” Sebastian slammed his fist down on the hood of the Lincoln. “Me. Oh, and now you’re blaming me for everything. You were the one who had to spend all your time flirting with those girls.” Michele Hauf

154 Sebastian pinched two fingers together before Scarlet’s face. “I am this close to smacking you, do you know that.” Scarlet’s eyes widened at her lover’s remark. Frustrated, she thrust her fists to her sides and stamped her foot. “Go ahead, smack me around. See if that helps you find your old girlfriend any quicker. I should have never told you about any of this!” “You mean you should have kept Vince a secret and continued to see him behind my back. Isn’t that a typical woman for you. Damn!” Sebastian kicked at the open door with his boot, slamming it shut. “I can’t believe I let myself trust you. How could I have been so blind. How stupid I’ve been.” “It’s your superiority that causes your blindness, Sebastian. You put yourself on a pedestal before all others. Sure, you say that you love me, but you only do when I obey and submit to your demands and rules. One little step in my own direction and wham! out the door she goes.”

an turned and got in the car. His knuckles turned white as he gripped the wheel. Sebasti

“Get in,” he said between tightened lips. Scarlet heard the bones snap as the proverbial straw plummeted the camel’s back. She gripped her fingers into fists and stalked around to Sebastian’s window. “Find her yourself,” she whispered viciously. “I wash my hands of you, Sebastian DelaCourte. I did not have sex with Vince Lyons, and it burns me to know you would assume I did. I should have never changed you into a vampire. You should be dead and burning in hell right now!” She stomped away but then turned back to reiterate her point. “And you can take your

damn girlfriend to hell with you!” Wicked Angels - Sequel to Dark Rapture 155 Chapter Twenty-Two

Scarlet scurried across the street and down a dark alleyway spotted with greasy puddles, her fists beating through the air as she moved. A stray cat followed close behind, its tail swishing the air like a metronome. There was an iron stairway to the rooftops just ahead. Didn’t need that. With a bend of her knees, Scarlet landed the roof, setting down with feline grace. She prowled along the narrow edge and squatted, scanning the streets for the black Lincoln. “It’s all the stiff’s fault,” she muttered. She still could not believe Sebastian had revived Catrina. His old girlfriend! Scarlet glanced to the side, surprised to see the cat. “How the heck did you get up here. What is it with you cats lately. I feel like a magnet for the strays of the world.” The cat closed its eyes and sat next to her, content. Ignoring the silent beast, Scarlet settled back into her ravaged thoughts. She wondered where Catrina was. The haggard corpse hadn’t looked as if she had the strength to stand upright, let alone actually leave the car. Not that her absence really mattered to Scarlet. All she could concentrate on now was Sebastian’s rude treatment of her. “This isn’t the way things are supposed to be,” she whispered. “This is wrong. Or…maybe it’s right.” She looked down to her side. The black cat purred contentedly. “I don’t know anymore. I do love Sebastian. Though…I sure do have a funny way of showing it, huh, kitty.” She stared across the lightening sky, but couldn’t help feel the emptiness in her

heart. Did she really did love him. What was it that had compelled her into Vince’s arms. And why had she killed. For surely, by killing she had committed the ultimate fuck you against Sebastian. A strange glimmer of confusion hovered within her head, threatening to spin her into the vortex of mad dreams she had been having lately. It was insistent, clouding the rationality of her love for Sebastian with unfounded and strange desires for Vince Lyons “This is madness! I do love Sebastian. Vince was just…an experiment that should have never happened. Why did I do it. Why.” She embraced her body, rocking steadily on the roof ledge. Images of Adriano’s smirking grin flashed in quick spurts. Esmarelda had loved him blindly. As she did Sebastian. Forgive him. We’ve both been on edge lately.

ime. To be alone.

“Yeah, this is what I’ve needed for a long t Take some time to myself to discover what I really am, to learn the truth about my vampirism. To finish those damned dairies and find out if they even hold the answers in their mildewed pages.” Maybe some time away from her overprotective lover was just the thing. A chance to look at the world and life from her vampire prospective, unfettered by a male who demanded, or worshipped, or cleaved. And perhaps Sebastian too, could use a break from her incessant search for the truth. Michele Hauf 156 The idea took shape like an opening flower bud. With each petal and new thought it began to make more sense. She adjusted her weight on the roof ledge, sending fragments of loose cement

showering to the alleyway. The cat looked to her, its golden eyes peaceful. “No,” she said to the feline, not that it cared about her complaints. “I can’t leave him. I love him. No matter what has come between us I will always forgive him. He’s got enough to worry about now with Catrina running wild.” Scarlet’s head ached to think of the life Sebastian had led before he met up with her. She knew, in the depths of her heart, that his past romances should not matter to her. Their life was the here and now and the future. But it was his past, so carelessly rekindled with the revival of Catrina Bellange that she burned to know. Could she continue to blindly accept him as Esmarelda had accepted Adriano. And then there was Vince. After witnessing Rico’s horrors, she knew Vince was of the same vein. And she had no intention of becoming involved in their wicked death games. “I’ll never kill again,” she vowed as the wind feathered her hair across her face. “Never.” She refused to be a part of senseless violence that took away innocence and left sadness. That was one thing on which she and Sebastian agreed. “What am I going to do.” “I think I can help.” Scarlet rocked on the roof ledge, nearly falling over the edge but caught herself. Surprised that she had been caught unaware, she quickly pulled herself up and stood tall before the woman who had just spoken. The woman’s hair, lustrous and golden as the sun’s rays, blew out behind her. She wore faded jeans and a red sweater. The black cat cuddled near her ankles. Scarlet did not know where she had come from—without a sound—but it soon came to her as frantic and insane as her dreams had been. Overwhelmed by an odd circling feeling

that enveloped her entire system, she rocked unsteadily. It was a familiar feeling…the shimmer. And it was so strong, she didn’t even have to touch her to feel it. The woman looked down at the cat as if to acknowledge the beast’s presence, then back to Scarlet, the moonlight glinting in deep blue eyes that seemed to have been stolen from a stained glass window. When she nodded, a narrow vial of red glass swung freely on the black cord around her neck. Adriano. “I…I know you,” Scarlet stuttered. “Esmare

lda.”

“Sorry to startle you.” “You’re…her. The… Es—the woman in the diaries.” The woman smiled elegantly as she offered her hand. Thoroughly stunned, yet amazed she knew this woman from the pages of Alexander Lyons II diaries and her dreams, Scarlet shook Esmarelda’s outstretched hand. The shimmer shuddered through her palm and branched out through her body. This woman possessed a powerful aura. “I’m Scarlet Rose. Um, but maybe you already knew that.” “I do. I’ve been watching and waiting for a few days, knowing you needed me.” Wicked Angels - Sequel to Dark Rapture 157 “The dreams,” Scarlet started, finding herself elated, yet unable to look away from the woman’s radiant eyes. “Did you— You wanted me to know about you. But how.” “A form of memory transfer.” She shrugged. So casual and normal like a next door neighbor who had stopped by for a visit. But not. “There are many things you can learn, Scarlet. Things I’ve already introduced to you in the diaries and your dreams.”

“Yes, the mind control, the body borrowed—” “Borrowed body traveling.” “Yes! My God, this is so incredible.” In her elation, Scarlet clapped her hands together. She wanted to ask this woman so much! Where to begin. “Vince! Are you his ancestor.” Esmarelda nodded, a sweet girlish smile lighting her face almost as if she couldn’t bare the jubilant adoration Scarlet reflected. “I am. My child was the first of the inborn bloodline. No female vampire has ever given birth as far as I know. But I was still mortal when I conceived my son. It is a legacy Adriano would be proud of, I know.” “Incredible,” Scarlet said. “But why me. Why not Vince.” “Well, of course I wish to contact Vince. He needs help. Desperately.” “So why didn’t you just— “Walk up and introduce myself to him.” Esmarelda walked to the roof ledge and hooked her thumb in her pockets. “I knew he would not be receptive to my mind transfers. At least not in his present state. I’ve no intention of just knocking on his door without some familiar introduction. I was hoping you might bridge the gap between us.” “Not a problem. Do you want to go see him now.” “Not yet. I’m more worried about you at the moment. I was drawn to you, Scarlet. I felt your need, it spoke to me like a starving child cries for her mother. You have an intense yearning for discovery. It is like a bright beacon that directed me right to you.” “This is all so fascinating. But I’m not sure how you can help me. I’m not an inborn. Are we still the same.” “You have the ability to utilize all the vampiric powers of the in-born, Scarlet. There’s not much difference between the two of us. Your race of created vampires has been around far longer than mine. It was pure misfortune you never developed your skills. Not many vampires are aware of the mind/body connection. It is not a weapon to be used to frighten or

revenge. It should be valued as Adriano’s legacy. Will you let me teach you.” “Yes. But—” The drone of a siren some blocks away wrenched Scarlet back to reality.

e long.”

She shook off Esmarelda’s entrancing stare. “Will this tak

“Perhaps. We’ll need time alone, to be sure.” “What about Sebastian. I can’t leave him.” “You were just thinking about it.” “Yes, I know but— Can you read my mind.” “No, your body language is very easy to read. But you don’t need to leave Sebastian forever. Come with me for a while. Perhaps it is what the two of you need. A short separation to repair the soul. You of all people know how dearly I believe in love.” She clutched the red vial in her fingers. “Adriano.” Scarlet knew the vial to contain his ashes. Such perfect love. Forever destroyed by the ignorance of mortals. “I’m sorry for you.” Michele Hauf 158 “Adriano’s presence never leaves me. You must never regret. It is not good for the soul. Release your anger toward Sebastian right now.” She smoothed a cool hand across Scarlet’s cheek. “He is troubled by your quest for answers, Scarlet. The man feels helpless.” “Then don’t you think leaving him would only make him feel all the more abandoned

en him. I just hope he can forgive me. I’ve been so terrible to him, Esmarelda. Everything with Vince—” To even mention the by me. I have already forgiv

singer’s name sent an icy tickle up Scarlet’s neck. “You know I felt this…compulsion, to go to Vince. For

a while there I had convinced myself it was you speaking to me, wanting me to go to him.” “I’m sorry. I did want you to see the world through Vince’s eyes. To learn for yourself that darkness holds no answers, only pain and confusion. Forgive me. I thought it a precursor to your coming into your own.” “The cat in the alley…and the raven…” “Me,” Esmarelda offered. “Borrowed body traveling. It’s really quite easy. Fun, too.” She clasped Scarlet’s hands between her own. “Do you want to learn the secrets of your vampirism, Scarlet. Will you come with me.” Her gaze fixed on the red vial of ashes resting on Esmarelda’s breast. Five centuries of life walking this earth. What she must know. This woman had come to help her. Finally she would have her answers. “Yes.” ***** Drums banging loudly. So difficult to escape their cry. Must get away before they catch me. Must flee. Oh, oh, it hurts. Stop it now. Stop it please, Rico, help me. I need you. Catrina Bellange stopped abruptly after running for what seemed centuries of minutes spinning around the clock. She slumped, catching her shoulder against the wall, but cringed and pulled away. Blood glistened on her arm above her elbow. The rough brick wall had torn the flesh. Everlasting life. The blood will keep me young. Rico, you must help me! She could feel the pounding in the liquid, the vicious drum beat as she thrust her finger into her mouth. Oh, the life. So sweet as it brings youth. She jerked her head violently as if avoiding an onslaught of gnats then abruptly settled to calm. Wiping her palm across the serrated wounds on her arm, she then licked

her hand clean of the vivid life. Boom. Boom. Boom. “Oh.” Catrina clutched her head in her hands and fell to her knees. Drums beat against her tongue and slid down her throat. Incessant noise. Please stop it, Rico! She pressed a hand to her heart and screamed. She tried to scramble away from the noise. It pumped beneath her hand, a wicked drum that counted the years till her demise. “No!” Her bare toes pushed against the tar as she moved backward on all fours. Behind her, a silver can toppled over and spilled a pile of rubbish. Calm. It is only your heart, Catrina. You foolish girl. Settle down. Get hold of yourself. “Yes,” she whispered. “My heart.” Wicked Angels - Sequel to Dark Rapture 159 Not the death. The life. “I live.” She scanned the sky above her, framed on two sides by the high-rise walls of buildings. There were many black ropes running from building to building, and she could see a few grew

erything was so

out of a tall post near the end of the alleyway. Ev

big and different, yet...still the same. Relaxing against the garbage can, Catrina stretched her toes in the air. She stroked the soft fabric of the coat she wore. “So different.” The clothing beneath the coat was tattered. Catrina pulled a long pink string from the frayed hem of her dress. “Dead,” she muttered. She trailed her finger along the rotted material, up over her groin and across her stomach to her breasts where the crimson silk was gaping and thin. The skin over

her heart pulsed with life. Catrina closed her eyes. “Alive.” “Ahh.” Noise. Disturbance. What is this, Rico. I need more blood! I don’t want to grow old! Catrina jerked her head up. A decrepit woman, whose hunched shoulders chopped her height to a mere four feet stood over her. A ragged purple cap topped her dead gray hair. “You look like you could use some company,” the old woman whispered in a hoarse voice. Her eyes shone curiously as she extended a dirty hand. Catrina pressed her back to the can. No! So offensive. Don’t touch me. Rico! The woman ignored her silent shock and knelt before her, placing a crumpled brown grocery bag on the ground in front of her. She reached inside and pulled out something. “I’ve an apple.” She held the gift before Catrina, gesturing with a nudge of her wrist that she could share her prize. So pretty. Red. Red as blood. Bleed them dry so I may live. Oh, the brilliant colors, Rico. Red and blue and orange and yellow. Yellow as the sun. No, Rico, we must hide. The sun. It rises! Catrina shook her head, clutching her fists to her chest, and pulled her legs tight to her torso. “No.” The lady shrugged, took a bite out of the rotting morsel and tossed it back in her bag. “Let’s see.” She thrust her hand in the bag. “I must have something.” Her heart thud loudly inside her chest. Catrina bit her lip and tucked her head down against her shoulder. Her body rocked rhythmically to the drums inside her chest. Beware. She glanced up. Old. Old, wrinkled flesh. Sickness. Not young! So old. I must never age, Rico. Please, promise me I’ll live forever. It is done, innamorata. I love you. Whistling to herself, the bag lady pulled a shiny silver high heel from her bag.

She eyed Catrina, seeing interest. “Ah, yes. Lovely, isn’t it.” “So different,” Catrina whispered. Really Cat, you should wear the ones with the red heels and the silver damask for an appearance in Versailles. As yes, the lovely silver damask. Like the sparkle in your eye. Her interest piqued, Catrina crept forward and knelt on her knees. She did not reach to touch.

e lady dropped the shoe back inside her soggy bag and rummaged “What else.” Th

about. “Ouch!” Her hand shot out of the bag, and she sucked at the red slash cut across her finger. Catrina’s eyes widened. The life! Michele Hauf 160 “Forgot I had that in there.” The lady produced a shard of shiny glass with her uninjured hand. She flashed it before Catrina. A triangular piece of mirror, perhaps salvaged from a broken looking glass or the inside of a music box abandoned by a small child. “Oh.” Catrina procured the shiny mirror with a grab. She cradled the sharp glass in her hand, examining her reflection. “You like what you see.” the lady asked. Catrina ran a finger down her cheek and over her lips. Pink and soft. So young. Still so young. She pushed her fingers through her hair, pulling the burnt red strands into the air. “So lovely,” she said. “Young…forever.” She looked up at the woman who sat silently observing her. Catrina reached out. “Not old. Not like you. Always lovely and young. Forever.”

She dropped the mirror to the tar. It shattered into dozens of sparkling confetti shards. “No,” the woman protested as she bent over her damaged treasure. “Yes,” Catrina whispered as her teeth descended over her lips. Wicked Angels - Sequel to Dark Rapture 161 Chapter Twenty-Three

“You do understand I never meant to hide this information from you. I had no idea there was a relationship between Sebastian and you.” Rico looked to Vince who sat clutching the steering wheel. He had just explained everything. How he and his sister had tricked Sebastian into giving them the gift of immortality and how he had mercilessly forced Sebastian out of the country in order to protect he and Catrina from the vampire’s wrath. “It is quite a lot to swallow,” Vince said. “You have been very good to me...” Rico laid a reassuring hand on Vince’s shoulder. “I would never betray your trust, Vince. You mean too much to me. You are family. I admit I use malicious tactics to gain what I have but I have never made myself to be a saint in your eyes. You know that.” True. A saint, Rico was not, what with his addiction to the kill and his passion for material possessions. And then there was the pit... Vince swallowed as the sickening smell of the death pit rebirthed in his nostrils. But what did he expect. Rico was a vampire, a creature of the night, an immortal beast cursed to live on the blood of others. A self-proclaimed wicked angel. Though, after everything he’d learned tonight, that was really stretching it. There was nothing whatsoever angelic about Rico

Bellange. The vampire’s curse had been chosen by Rico. Albeit, Catrina was the first to be transformed and Rico did this solely to please her. Vince knew he would never have chosen vampirism if given a choice. Which he had not. So that made the two of them very different. Yet still he felt close to this man whom he had imagined to be the father he’d never known.

judge. Acceptance

And who was he to was all he had ever asked of Gary. An acceptance that he now knew he could willingly give Rico. “It’s cool, Rico.” Vince laid a hand over his friend’s. “I understand. Sebastian is a prick. I would have used him the same way…I guess. Anyway, you were doing it for your sister.” “Yes, I live and breathe for Catrina. This was for her. She needed the immortality to dispel her fears of aging. Still family.” Rico prompted. Vince nodded, finding he had no aversions to Rico. The man was just that much closer to being the monster he desired to be. “Definitely.” “Then let’s go inside.” The castle walls stretched three stories into the air, an imposing site, even in daylight. The sun cast a hazy glow across the double towers and barely glimmered across the uppermost portion of the third story windows. Finding a pathway in shadow, they raced to the door and knocked politely. Though Vince wanted to barge in, Rico said things should be handled carefully if they were to expect cooperation from Sebastian. The door opened. “Tony, my man.” Vince breezed by the bleary-eyed servant, motioning for Rico to enter. “Looks like you had a rough one. Sebastian home.” Michele Hauf

162 “I don’t believe so, Mr. Lyons.” Anthony rubbed his eyes and took in the tall man standing next to Vince. “Is there something I can do for you.” “Nah, we need to talk to Sebastian. Can we wait upstairs.” “Well…” “Come on, Tony.” Vince hooked an arm around the servant’s shoulders and joggled him good-naturedly. “We won’t touch anything. Oh, sorry, this is Rico Bellange. Rico, this is Anthony, Sebastian’s faithful—” “Slave.” Rico surmised gaily. Anthony surveyed Rico’s appearance. “House servant,” he corrected tersely, running a hand over his bed-tousled hair though it did little but rake it into haphazard spikes. Rico walked ahead as they made way to the study. Vince’s arm remained around Anthony, giving the sleepy-eyed servant no choice but to come along. “And what is it that prompts a man to work for two vampires, Tony. Is it they keep you drained.” Vince tipped Anthony’s chin up to look over his face. “You don’t look so pale.” “They’ve never laid a hand on me, nor would Sebastian ever think of it. He’s a good man,” Anthony said shakily. “You mean he’s never gotten hungry and stolen a taste.” Vince squeezed Anthony’s shoulders and joined in Rico’s sly teasing. “At least not as far as you know, eh Tony.” “Looks pretty tasty to me.” Rico shot a glance Vince’s way. “What do you say, Vince.” Both vampires stared hungrily at the shaking servant. At the sight of their teasing starvation, Anthony ceased to walk further, slinking out from under Vince’s arm. “I w-wouldn’t think of it if I w-were you. Sebastian would not like it if you guys

were to—” “Oh come, Anthony.” Rico lunged forward into the servant’s space, sticking out a pouting lip. “Just a taste.” “Stay away from me.” Anthony stumbled backward, crashed into the wall, and scrambled for the stairs. A moment later they heard the slam of Anthony’s

and the slide of iron as the distraught servant bedroom door

locked himself inside his quarters. Vince slapped Rico across the back, laughing with him. “You are too bad, man. Ha!” ***** Scarlet punched in the five-digit disarm code on the beach house alarm and collapsed in the foyer. She was tired after running across town, her vampire strength quickly waning with the rising sun. She scanned the living room. White sheets covered the furniture, a film of minute dust coloring them dull gray. The curtains were pulled and the room was comfortably cool. “You’re exhausted,” Esmarelda crossed the foyer. “You rest.” “What about you.” Esmarelda ran finger across the dusty white sheet that had been spread over the couch a year ago. “I’ll rest too. And when you rise…we’ll make plans.” ***** Wicked Angels - Sequel to Dark Rapture 163 Sebastian stood in the study doorway, hands on his hips, taken aback. He never thought he’d loathe the day Vince Lyons stood in his home. And there was

Federico Bellange, a man he hadn’t seen for over two centuries, looking physically the same, yet emotionally drained as he looked up from the piano where he sat next to Vince, as the blonde dabbled out some silly little strain. He had driven the streets of L.A. into the early morning hours but there had been no sign of Catrina, no mention of a haggard half-dressed woman roaming the streets, no strange news reports of vampire bites. He was much too drained himself to want to think about dealing with either of these men, but it seemed there was no choice. Rico’s mismatched eyes shone between the triple mounts of the brass candelabra. Scarlet had always lit those candles with such care, such grace. Scarlet. After thinking of no one else for the last four hours Sebastian regretted the words he’d allowed to hatefully fly her way. He knew he could never ask her forgiveness. But he must try. If he should ever lose her…life would not be worth living. But as Vince rose before him, his blonde mane and pretty face beat down the trust that had resurfaced for Scarlet. “What are you doing in my home.” He addressed neither Vince nor Rico specifically as he glared from one to the other. Vince tipped his mirrored sunglasses down to reveal red-lined eyes and a gaze that wasn’t about to back down against Sebastian’s commanding stance. Before Vince could speak, Rico stood and stepped forward. “It has been a very long time, Signore DelaCourte. But I see your revenge has survived the centuries.” “My revenge.” “What did you do with his sister.” Vince joined Rico’s side, both vampires over six feet tall, creating a force to be reckoned with. “What I did with— So you think this was some sort of revenge, Federico. Not

that you didn’t deserve some recourse, but do you actually think after all these years I would try and vindicate myself against you. If anyone should seek vindication it should be Catrina. But I chose to help her, fool that I am.”

“Help.” Rico snapped. “What have you done with her.” The two ancient vampires stood but a few feet apart, the tension in the room creating invisible shock waves that shot back and forth between them. “I only wanted to help her,” Sebastian said. “To take her away from the man who imprisoned her senselessly.” “Oh man, you don’t know what the hell is going on, do you.” Vince’s voice rose to a shout. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done.” “You didn’t revive her, did you.” Sebastian regarded Vince fiercely, ignoring Rico’s childlike plea. His mental state was at its lowest, his patience gone, one wrong move and he’d attack the man who had touched Scarlet. But Rico repeated his question. “I had no intention of revenge against you, Federico.” Rico shook him off, nodding irately before renewing his plea. “That is what you say. But did you revive her.” Michele Hauf 164 “Yes, there was no other way to get her out of that pit of horrors you keep in your basement. Scarlet helped me.” “Scarlet.” Vince jerked his head defiantly, tossing his hair across his squared shoulders. “Where is she, anyway.” The nerve of Vince to ask such a thing. “She is gone, I cannot abide infidelity. And I wish you would leave this house also, Vincent Lyons, or I will not be responsible

for my actions.” Vince lunged but Rico caught him with outstretched arm before he came close enough to touch Sebastian. The two enemies stared at one another, Vince’s cool gaze sparking menace; Sebastian’s dark stare daring him to try. “Perhaps you should wait outside,” Rico said calmly. “I’m sure Signore DelaCourte will be much more obliging in your absence. Go on. I’ll be right down.” Sebastian was not impressed with Rico’s interference. “You know where the front door is.”

neered and gnashed his fangs before striding out the room in a huff and a slash Vince s

of suede fringes. “If you had no intention of revenge, then I trust you’ll return her to me.” Rico spoke softly, his words choked with obvious emotion. “I’ll cause you no pain should you return her safely.” Sebastian walked to the piano, running his fingers along the glossy ivories. He recalled the harpsichord upon which he had taught Catrina to play. Her delicate fingers had been willow branches on the wind, dipping into heavenly choruses. “Why did you lock her away. I thought you loved Cat.” “You really have no idea, do you.” Rico pressed his palm onto the cool ebony surface of the grand piano meeting Sebastian eye to eye. “I’ve loved no other more than I love her. You know I could never cause her pain or harm. You know that!” Yes, Sebastian was aware of the love between brother and sister. The incestuous love. “You should also know what hell it was for me when I was forced to lock her away,”

Rico continued. “She was mad, Sebastian! The nightmares of her victims enfolded her into a manic world of living hell. She was no longer able to determine whether she was living in a nightmare or in the real world. The two worlds were crossed into this crazy sort of vicious pandemonium. Do you understand. I had to put her away before she destroyed herself in a rage of unreal trauma.” “The nightmares. But Scarlet told me you and Vince are into the adrenaline rush, that you live off the fear of your victims. There are no nightmares with fear.” Rico’s sigh did not dissuade Sebastian’s intentions. He hated the man and would not let down his guard. But he would hear him out. For Catrina’s sake. “It was only after Catrina had been locked away that I changed into this monster who sought the fear in my victim’s eyes, the final death-beat of their heart in my hands, before their expiration brought forth some sort of sadistic satisfaction for the loss of my sister.” Expiration. Sebastian winced. “Oh come, Rico, you’ve been playing games for centuries. You’re never satisfied until your victim suffers and you in turn reap the losses. I wasn’t the only man you toyed with to get what you wanted.” Wicked Angels - Sequel to Dark Rapture 165 “Yes, and look where it has gotten me…and Catrina. Mio innamorata. She is mad because of you—” “Me! I provided her with the one thing she desired more than even you, Rico. It was her quest for everlasting youth, and your”—bittersweet memories came crashing full force— “your incestuous love drove Catrina mad.” “You are jealous because you shall never have such a love!”

Sebastian marched to the study window. Federico was blind to all around him unless it concerned Catrina. Two centuries of this blindness. And he could see no way of breaking open the barrier that had demented and shaped Rico into the evil that he was.

the streets of L.A.

And now Cat roamed alone and possibly in a manic state. He had set her ravaged mind in motion. Once again, he had played into the game. “I fear I may have inadvertently exercised some unknowing sort of revenge.” “What.” “I revived her, Rico. She was in the back seat of the car when Scarlet and I stopped for gas. When we went back out, she was gone.” “Gone! No, this is not possible. Dio mio! Where. My poor Catrina alone in her ravaged state, in a world she hasn’t seen for almost a hundred years.” “When did you put her in the crypt.” “It was early in the century. God’s mercy! Sebastian, you must help me find her. Yes, you owe me that much.” “I owe you nothing!” “But you do! Catrina is my heart. Surely you must understand the loss of one so dear.” Rico’s eyes narrowed and his voice took on a wicked edge. He slipped so easily into the game. “It’s too bad about your precious Scarlet.” “You leave Scarlet out of this! This is another of your evil games. You plotted Vince against Scarlet and I. He…he coerced her…in some way.” “Ah, I wouldn’t be too hasty in my judgments, Signore. Vince was well underway with the seduction before I ever met him. I actually witnessed their coming together,” Rico said slyly. “Such a romantic tryst beneath the willow tree.” “I won’t listen to this. Leave this house now, Federico, before I—” “Quite the tart if you ask me. She kissed me, too.” Sebastian lunged, pushing Rico against the wall, the force of his blow sending settled

dust flying about their heads. “You bastard! You lie.” Rico fought back, smashing his fist into Sebastian’s jaw, though it did little but irk the other vampire. They fought across the room, a misplaced kick from Rico’s boot shattering the wooden leg of the antique divan, their struggles knocking the candelabra from the piano, and finally they fell to the floor where Sebastian repeatedly dashed Rico’s head against the stones. Venom drawn from centuries of deception flowed freely in Sebastian’s veins. His fingers slipped through the sweat in Rico’s hair, mixing with blood as he felt Rico’s skull crack against the hard stone. “Very…well,” Rico struggled. “I’ll tell the truth.” Sebastian unhanded the miserable vampire and sat back on his haunches, waiting as Rico shook the sense back into his head. Michele Hauf 166 Rico swiped a finger behind his ear and examined the blood. He grinned and licked his finger clean. “I kissed her. I couldn’t help it. I had to know what it was like.” He squinted, pressing against his skull as if to reposition a misplaced bone. There was an audible crack. “I was jealous of the hold she had on Vince. The way she could so easily attract him without trying, without an awareness of the strong allure she possesses. She is a beauty, Signore, you are a very lucky man. Though I did not lie about her and Vince. I’m sure they have made love. It should have been his brains you were bashing instead of mine.”

pushed to his feet and brushed away the debris from his “You disgust me.” Sebastian

scuffle on the floor. “Take your family of blood savages and your pit of rotting bodies and leave me in peace.” “I will go nowhere until I find Catrina.” “But you’ll leave if you do.” Rico jumped to his feet. A thick stream of blood still ran down his neck. “You’ll help.” Now it was Sebastian’s turn at command. He could turn the tables on Rico and have him cast out of the country! Though he hated the idea of exercising such control over another person. He was not on this earth for vindictive revenge. And he had far better things to worry about, like finding Scarlet. “If you promise to leave as soon as she is found.” Rico pondered Sebastian’s request momentarily. “Of course. But I wish to leave immediately. If she is out there somewhere we must find her soon, there’s no telling what sort of trouble she may unknowingly stir up.” Sebastian nodded, straightening his shoulders. “Very well. I know I am a fool for doing this but I won’t rest either until she is found. I can only take you to the area where I lost her. After that I’ve no clue as to finding her.” Wicked Angels - Sequel to Dark Rapture 167 Chapter Twenty-Four

Sleep left Scarlet peaceful and refreshed. From where she lay on the sheetcovered couch she could see around the living room. The walls were bare and white, another shrouded chair sat five feet from her, a glass-topped coffee table staking out its own piece of

Berber carpet on the other side. That was all. She had never been one with decorating flair, nor the patience to try. She’d decided against selling the beach house after moving into the castle with Sebastian last year. It was the last remaining memory of her parents. This house had once been her parents no-kids-allowed vacation spot. But they never got a chance to enjoy their last summer away. Five years ago, their plane crashed over Nevada. The first few years had been hard, until Scarlet moved out to California to be closer to Gary. Now memories of her parents made her smile instead of becoming teary. The sheer white drapes that hung before the patio doors were parted to reveal a slash of cloud-dulled sun wisping across the deck and the visible edge of the covered hot tub. Resting her elbows on the railing stood Esmarelda. Her hair blew out behind her. A strong wind pressed the soft red sweater to her figure. Scarlet closed her eyes and lay back. Everything felt right. Even her separation from Sebastian didn’t bother her as much as she felt it should. “But only for a little while,” she whispered. “I love you, Sebastian.” Put regret from your mind. You know he will never love another. Step out of his embrace for the moment, free your mind, quiet your soul. Live for yourself first, use his love for the support and strength you will need. He is inside of you… Scarlet sat up and looked out the window. Esmarelda returned her lucid gaze. She had actually heard those words spoken inside her head, in Esmarelda’s voice. With a

decisive nod, Scarlet went outside. “I never knew a vampire could communicate that way.” Esmarelda gestured they walk down the redwood steps to the beach where a large

sitting rock had claimed its spot in the gray sand. “It is a learned skill,” Esmarelda explained as she climbed onto the rock and patted the stone beside her. “It took many centuries for me to discover I possessed the power to communicate with others of my kind. Adriano hadn’t the time to teach me. We can do it with humans to a certain degree.” “Really.” “Yes. We can’t put literal words inside their heads as I did to you, but we can persuade, if you will. We can create a suggestion, such as you have probably already done. When you leave a victim you leave him knowing he will wake with no memory of you or your bite, do you not.” “Yes. I guess I never really thought about it before. Hmm.” “You can also influence a mortal in his decisions. Should I go this way, or shall I go over there where that lovely dark-haired woman stands.” Esmarelda’s fingers slipped Michele Hauf 168

through the ends of Scarlet’s hair. “Not that a woman of your beauty needs to persuade any mortal.” The intimacy of her touch startled Scarlet. But she discovered an incredible peace at the end of her worries. A feeling of acceptance and warmth. And she felt compelled to slip her hand up through Esmarelda’s fingers. “I feel so comfortable with you. It’s like serenity surrounds you and it embraces whomever you’re near.” “Over the centuries I have come to a total oneness with my body and mind. And my

vampirism. That is the serenity you sense. You can have it, too. “Vampirism encompasses your body and mind,” Esmarelda said. “Your soul is that of your lover’s. You are many elements combined to form one. Your body is the mortal shell that houses these elements. It protects and embraces, grows along with your mind. Your mind is also of the mortal element. Though it grows and learns from your vampire experiences to become a total entity, your soul is the true vampire. You remember how your mortal soul left your body when Sebastian transformed you.” “It was an experience I’ll never forget.” “A new soul was created from Sebastian’s soul. A strong and fierce collection of Sebastian’s life that melded with yours. A vampire. A beast that beats deep inside, an angel that rejoices your satiations. You are a being unlike the mortals, a fantastical creature that depends on the blood of mortals to survive. Without that you are nothing. And yet, you are everything when you find your inner soul—the remnants of your mortal soul that still beats inside you.” “You make it sound so complex.” Esmarelda lips wrinkled into a shy smile. “It’s not really. And yet it is. Every living thing is a complex structure of mind body and soul. Most never learn to use their full potential. A shame. Even for the mortals.” “How did you ever learn so much. You never had a teacher.” Scarlet touched the black satin cord around Esmarelda’s neck. “Adriano never had enough time, did he.” “He opened my mind. Though he often said it was my choice. I was after all, quite accepting of him from the start. You must have an open mind, Scarlet. With that all things are possible. So, are you ready to learn.” “Yes.”

***** “I’m going home, this has become a waste of time. I’ll call a cab for us, Anthony.” Sebastian started for the pay phone when Rico blocked his path. “You promised you would help. You do want to see me leave town, don’t you.” “Believe me, Federico, that is tops on my list. But right now I can see no way for us to find Catrina unless she shows up in the newspaper or on television. L.A. is a big city. She could be anywhere.” “Not if she’s weak,” Vince said from his perch on the trunk of his Monte Carlo. “Do you think a starving vampire is going to let the first p

erson she

comes upon go.” Sebastian did not turn to Vince. He wanted nothing more than for him to leave, much less have to carry on a conversation with him. “That’s what I mean about the news, if she’s in Wicked Angels - Sequel to Dark Rapture 169 the manic state Rico described, she’s going to attack someone. And I’m sure she’ll leave a trail.” “Sebastian’s right,” Rico said. “When I finally locked her away she was out of control. I had to follow her around and clean up her messes. She had no sense of right and wrong. She would leave a mangled body on its doorstep and then would run screaming through the streets as the nightmares took grasp of her mind. But that is why we’ve got to find her. I want to get to her before the police do.” Vince stepped over to Sebastian. “You’re the one who set her free, this is all

your fault, DelaCourte.” Venom seeped back into Sebastian’s veins. “Get that finger out of my face, unless you want it removed from your body.” Vince squared his shoulders. “Try it, and I’ll remove your body from this earth.” Sebastian lashed forward with a punch that traveled super-sonic speed, kissing Vince in the jaw and hurtling the man back onto the tar. Following his delivery, he leapt onto Vince and the two struggled in the parking lot as Rico stepped back to Anthony’s side to observe. “They’ve got to battle it out,” Rico said calmly. Anthony slunk away from the towering vampire and slipped inside the car, watching helplessly as Sebastian received a jab in the ribs. “You bastard!” Sebastian pushed Vince’s head against the pavement. “Scarlet belongs to me! You had no right to take advantage of her weaknesses.” With one heaving grunt, Vince shoved Sebastian from his body and into the air where he landed with a back crunching sound across the hood of the car. Sebastian shook off the confusion and struggled to his feet. “She belongs to no one! It was her choice,” Vince said. “She chose to kill. You can’t imagine a woman could ever despise you—” “Despise.” Both men stood prepared for battle, their fists bloodied with the other’s life. “Yeah, she hates you, man. She came running to me, begging me to show her more.” Vince flipped his hair out of his face. “She asked me to show her the kill. She wanted to meet Rico and learn about the others.” He pressed a finger into Sebastian’s chest. “She wanted me to make love to her, but—” “But what.” Sebastian slashed away Vince’s hand from his chest. “You forced her, Vince, didn’t you. She would have never willingly allowed you to violate her.”

Sebastian’s fist met Vince’s jaw. Rico caught his friend before he hit the ground. “All right, that’s enough. Perhaps it would be a good idea if you went home, Sebastian. You’ve done all that you can.” Vince spit bloody saliva just inches short of Sebastian’s boots. “You actually think I fucked her.” Sebastian flexed his fingers into fists. “Didn’t she tell you.” Vince tossed his hair from his face with a defiant jerk. “Kinda funny that she’d let you believe something like that. Maybe she doesn’t care for

you as much as I thought.” Rico ducked into the car. “Anthony, call a cab for you and your master. Come on, Vince. I’ll be tracking the media, Sebastian, but you must contact me if you hear anything.” Michele Hauf 170 As Rico and Vince drove away, Sebastian flipped the men off and then quickly shoved his hand in his pocket. You are becoming as vile as them, he reprimanded inwardly. Why would Scarlet allow him to believe Vince had made love to her. ***** “Aahh!” Shuddering horrors. Darkness stained red. Red as a child’s blood that drips from its tiny wrist. Slashed by the surgeon. No, Cat, you must wait! Why! Why don’t we do away with them immediately. Why must we wait until

they see fit to die. I must! The surgeon’s lancet flashed in the candlelight. Rico sprang to harness Cat. He screamed. Blood flowed red and violent, dripping to the tiled floor in a splattering puddle. His hand. Split wide in a sea of blood. She fell to her knees. Forgive me. I will make it better. Rico’s blood colored her cheeks ruby. Yes, lick it clean. I give you eternal life. Loud music. So violent. No! Stop it! Catrina pressed her hands over her ears to stop the pounding. The blood beat loudly. The scream pulled from the depths of her heart. “Rico!” Wicked Angels - Sequel to Dark Rapture 171 Chapter Twenty-Five “Where is she.” Sebastian smoothed his forefinger down the length of emerald damask drapery in the study window. He had chosen the color specifically to match Scarlet’s eyes. Eyes that had haunted him for centuries. Eyes captured in the sparkle of an emerald lying against a woman’s neck. Eyes that would speak to him from paintings, abstract or surreal, the color so pure and bold that it would bring him to his knees in desire and want and need. It had taken him over two centuries—he’d searched for Scarlet since 1769—and finally, last year he had found her. To have and to hold forever. Would betrayal and mistrust destroy their forever. Sebastian pulled the thick drapery away from the window. Soon, night would fall. Scarlet had been missing since last night. Not missing like taken or kidnapped. Gone of he

r

own free will. “Scarlet, if you can hear me, I beg your forgiveness. Please come home to me, cherie. I will do anything I can to help discover the answers you seek. I was being selfish. I could not stand to know that you might need more than I can offer.” Selfish and yes, even jealous. But jealous of what. It was as if he had become excess baggage. Scarlet was so busy lately. Always with her nose in those damn diaries in search of answers. If the vampire was possessed of great and mighty powers than surely Sebastian would have stumbled on them years ago. The only thing the diaries offered were insight to Vince’s family history. Vince. Always Vince! Had this rogue vampire become his new rival. I did not make love to Vince and it burns me to know you would think I could. Kinda funny that she’d let you believe something like that. Why had she let him believe such a thing. He and Scarlet always spoke the truth to one another. Each was aware they could easily confide in the other. Perhaps she was ashamed for having killed. No. There was no reason to let him think such a betrayal had happened. Unless…unless there was something in the diaries after all. I’ve been reading about Esmarelda and Adriano. It’s so fascinating. Did the diaries hold answers he should be aware of. Secrets to the vampire legacy that had been hidden from him for centuries. Sebastian dashed out of the room. The last he’d seen of the diaries, Scarlet had left them downstairs in the living room. ***** Once stumbled upon, Catrina’s trail was not hard to pick up. She had left bodies

scattered here and there for miles, slumped in the alleyways, crawling half-dead toward the main street in an attempt to get help for themselves. When they came upon a victim who was still alive, Rico worked his vampire persuasion on them. If close to death, Vince flicked out his knife, quickly finished the job, and tucked the body out of sight between buildings or Michele Hauf 172 tossed it in a garbage dump. There were police sirens not far away but their vampire swiftness kept Rico and Vince well ahead of the authorities. “That’s five now.” Vince wiped a smear of tepid blood across his shirt and searched Rico’s brooding eyes. “But I think we’re getting closer, this kid was still warm.” Rico pushed the victim’s head to the side to hide the havoc that his sister had forced upon his flesh. He bent and picked up the bloody cross that lay near the dead boy’s hand. “Yes, we are. I can feel her heartbeat in my veins. She’s very close.” A bloodcurdling scream prompted both vampires down the alleyway and to the back of a Chinese restaurant where a frantic little Chinese woman stood with her hands to her mouth. She babbled incoherently in her native tongue. Rico put his arm around her and turned

lder. Vince fingered the gaping wound in the her away from the carnage, but at the same time looking over his shou

young girl’s neck. He looked down her body, seeing her hand still inside her purse. He pulled it out. Her fingers had touched a gun, a .22 she had most likely kept as protection. Red lights flashed across the shoddy brick walls of the restaurant. Rico hissed at Vince, “It’s the police, we must leave.”

“Right.” “Don’t leave that behind!” Vince shrugged. “What.” “The gun. You touched it, your fingerprints are all over it.” “Shit.” Vince slipped the gun down the front of his pants. “Whoa!” He readjusted the pistol so that it pointed to the side instead of downward. “Don’t want to lose anything I might need to use later.” He took off behind Rico, leaving the Chinese woman screaming. They did not stop until they had crossed five or six city streets and leapt into the late evening sky to rest on the rooftops. “She’s very close.” Rico scanned the building tops, the city streets, and the distant flashes of the inner city. “But the vibrations I’m getting…they’re…scattered. So manic.” He shuddered and drew in a deep breath. “This should have never happened, Vince. She’s lost in a world she knows nothing of. Trapped in a mind that does not know reality from nightmare.” “We’ll find her, man.” “And what will we do then. Lock her away again.” Vince couldn’t understand why that troubled Rico. “You said yourself you couldn’t exist without her. If she’s locked away safe and secure, at least you’ll still have her. Isn’t that what you want.” Rico turned away from Vince and absently scanned the city. “She is mio cuore,” he whispered. “My heart.” The shrill sirens of an ambulance echoed in the alleyway below as flashing red lights pulled up behind the Chinese restaurant. Rico turned his back to the sight. “I have lived my life only to please her,” Rico whispered. “I would not know what to

do without— Ah, you will never understand, Vince. Modern man calls the love we had for one another incestuous. I simply call it love, a passionate bond that knew no bounds.” Vince clutched Rico’s hand in his. He felt the shimmer, the intense chemistry that bound their kind together as their hearts began to fall into synch and beat as one. Wicked Angels - Sequel to Dark Rapture 173 “I will be here for you, Rico, if Catrina…well, if we’re unable to…” Rico swayed and fell into Vince’s arms. He held tight to his immortal companion, sniffing at a few unstoppable tears. Soft summer breeze blew the fragrance of fried rice and gasoline fumes across his face. The static-riddled radio inside the ambulance asked for info, “What’s your location. I’ll send out a team.” “Wait a sec—” Out of the corner of his eye Vince spied something. “What the hell.” Below the second rooftop to their right, Vince saw flashing red and blue lights. He pulled Rico to his feet and the two vampires eyed the crowd of navy-blueclothed police

ling with a bedragg

officers wrest led woman. Catrina. Her limbs were bare of her crypt rags save for one long, faded maroon slash that hung from her shoulder and waved back and forth over her breasts. Vince recognized Scarlet’s jacket hanging from one of her shoulders. Her blood-stained mouth stretched in fear and defiance and she crouched low, her arms spread wide as a circle of officers surrounded her. “My God, we’ve got to save her.” Vince caught Rico across the chest. “No! We can’t go down there and risk exposing ourselves. Look at all the cops! It’s too late, Rico.”

“But they’ll put her away! I can’t let that happen.” “Just like you put her away. She’s gone! There’s nothing left of the woman you once held dear. Let her go!” “But don’t you see. If they try to contain her it will be behind bars in some filthy prison.” Rico struggled to keep an eye on his sister. “That’s no place for her mind! Do you know what they’ll do to her if they discover her blood is different than theirs. They’ll probe and prod and…” He stopped, catching his forehead against his palm. “Oh, Vince.” Vince could understand the man’s heartache, having lost his own mother. But, having never known the passionate love Rico spoke of, he couldn’t be as sympathetic as he felt he should be. There was no possible way to save Catrina. There were just too many policemen. To go down there would be like committing suicide themselves. There was only one thing to do. Vince pulled the .22 from his pocket. “Then give her peace.” Michele Hauf 174 Chapter Twenty-Six The sight of the gun, so cold and utterly mortal, shocked Rico. He pulled away from Vince’s grasp and stood watching as the police officers took turns lunging in an attempt to capture his sister. She still possessed incredible strength and at the moment was holding her own against the LAPD. Rico felt the cold metal slide across his palm as Vince pressed the weapon into his hand. “Let her go, Rico. End her suffering.” Catrina’s screams filled the air. Each of her arms was held by two policemen while her kicking legs were being secured in the same manner. With more than a half

dozen policemen going at her they would have her manacled and tossed in the back of the ambulance within minutes. “But this won’t work.” He gestured to the gun. “A bullet can’t stop a vampire.” “I know…” Vince eyed the gun anxiously and thought about it. “Shit!” He kicked the the rooftop before pacing away. But he rushed back to Rico. “Maybe…if you shoot more than once… Yes! One bullet won’t cause her heart to burst, but three or four in a row, each in a different place in her heart, should. You’ve got to try, man.” Vince gripped Rico’s gun hand. “Give Catrina peace.”

iance felt dirty and cold. Honestly. There was no other choice. Rico shivered. Compl

He swallowed, nodded, and turned to the action, shakily placing the gun before his nose to aim. Catrina was held by three officers, two holding each of her limbs, and one securing her head in the crook of his elbow. Vince bent over his shoulder. “They’ll see us as soon as the first shot is fired. We gotta get away as soon as it’s over. Say good-bye now.” Rico swallowed back the bile in his throat. He aimed the pistol, finding Catrina’s writhing body in its sight. “Addio, innamorata.” He closed one eye, wet his lips and Cat’s voice echoed in his tormented mind. Rico always hits his mark. Her giggle, like the silver gypsy bells she had worn about her ankle faded to manic screams for release. He slumped against the roof ledge. “I cannot do this!” “Here!” Vince knelt beside him, slipping his finger in the trigger. “I’ve never shot a gun before so you’ll have to aim. I’ll pull the trigger for you. Do it now, Rico. Do you see.

They’ll lock her up and poke and prod her for the They’ve almost got her to the ambulance.

rest of her miserable life. You don’t want that. Now, aim!” With a deep sigh, Rico looked through the pistol sight. “Is it aimed.” Vince asked. “Yes,” he said weakly. With the first shot, Catrina’s breast burst in a brilliant crimson star. She continued to thrust and fight, showing no signs the bullet had even hit her. The police officers’ heads shot up, scanning the rooftops. One pointed and yelled as the second shot found its mark a fraction of an inch from the first. A band of policemen with guns cocked and ready ran towards the building. “Mio Dio,” Rico moaned. Wicked Angels - Sequel to Dark Rapture 175 “Aim!” Catrina’s body fell from the policeman’s hands as the third bullet pierced her immortal flesh. Rico stood blindly watching her death as the policeman raced toward the building. He didn’t hear Vince’s pleas to leave. Three bullets had been enough. Catrina’s body withered. Her heart had stopped. Her life began to fade. But there it was! The angel. His mother’s angel, still wearing the same robes of lustrous sapphire. Red heat seared through Rico’s left leg, which he gripped involuntarily, but he couldn’t tear his eyes from his sister’s dying body and the familiar angel that hovered above her right shoulder awaiting her soul. She was reduced to ash before his eyes and before the LAPD. But Rico smiled inside, assured the angel would escort Catrina’s soul to safety. “Come on, man.” Vince pulled him across the roof. “You’ve been shot. Let’s get

out of here before they have a chance to get a good look.” Jumping from rooftop to rooftop, their silhouettes hovered briefly in the yellow circle of moonlight. Only when they had reached the mansion and Vince had to help Rico to stagger upstairs to his bed did the tears flow freely. Rico’s body shook with the years of passion he held locked in his heart for Catrina. She was gone by his hands. A spasm of pain rippled through his left side as Vince pried the slug from Rico’s thigh and tossed it on the floor. But it was no match to the agony that rendered his heart into two jagged pieces. ***** She stood in the rose garden. A dark-haired fairy queen reigning over her whiteand red-petaled subjects. Full and open, the white rose she held was as big as her fist. Her eyelids closed as she drew in the flower’s scent. Her expression was of a woman in the throes of passion, her lips parted as a satisfied breath whispered out. Sebastian’s footsteps crunched a stray branch. Scarlet spun around, the rose brushing. “I was worried you might never come home.” The urge to crush her into his embrace and hold her forever was strong. But he felt nervous. Not sure what her solemn expression meant. “I’ve come to say good-bye.” “Good-bye.” His heart slipped. “You can’t mean that. Please allow me to explain. I’m sorry—” “I know you are.” “I believed Vince had made love to you. How could you let me think such a

thing.” “You gave me no other choice.”

and his head fell back against his shoulders. His entire body Sebastian’s closed his eyes,

shook as his lover passed him by, the scent of her salty tears strong. “I love you, ma chèrie. I know now it was wrong of me to assume you could do such a thing. You had every right to act as you did. You could never betray me. I know that. I’ve been such a fool. Please, you are my life…” “Sebastian.” She spun around, avoiding his eyes. “I need to do this. You mustn’t take this personally. It’s me, not you. I’m not going away forever. Just long enough to learn.” Michele Hauf 176 “Learn.” “From Esmarelda.” The name was familiar. “The Esmarelda from the diaries.” “I met her last night. She’s beautiful and smart. She knows how I’ve been feeling lately. And she can give me the answers I need.” “But you don’t even know this woman.” “I do! I know her life. I know she loved blindly, as I do.” “Blindly. But—” She thrummed her fist against her heart. “My love for you has been blind. I know nothing about you, Sebastian, and I realize that even more after hearing your story about the twins. You’ve never shared your life with me. I fear there are many more stories I have yet to hear. “And I’ve been wondering lately, do I really know who Sebastian DelaCourte is. There are over two hundred years of your life I know nothing about. Two hundred years that

shaped and made you into a man still so mysterious to me. I have no idea if there are more women out there from your past, more vampires—” “I created no others—other than the ones you now know of,” he quickly interjected. “So you say. But you must understand…I don’t even know myself. Who am I. Scarlet Rose, a vampire. But what does it even mean. Vampire.” She shrugged, finding Sebastian could only nod in silence. He knew as little about their race as she. “There is so much I need to know and learn, Sebastian. Will I live forever. Can we die. What are my strengths, my limitations. Until I know, I don’t think I can begin to understand and completely love you. Esmarelda can open my mind and fill it with the knowledge I crave. I love you, Sebastian, with all my heart. And yet…I need more.” He sighed and shoved his hands into his pockets. “And I’m not supposed to take that personally.” One of the rose petals broke away from the flower and drifted across Scarlet’s skirt. “I’m sorry, I don’t know how else to put it.” Red hot pain stabbed at Sebastian’s heart. Regret seared his blood and sizzled out through his veins. If only he had been more open. He wanted desperately to hold her, to kiss her senseless. Change her mind…somehow. “I have to go now. I’ll be back.” “When.” “I don’t know. Not long.” She turned away. Her long peach skirts whispered across and between her legs. The white rose dangled near her thigh. Already, with only a few feet distance between them, Sebastian was unable to smell her perfume, her hair, the rosy shampoo she used because she knew he loved the scent. Everything she did was to please him.

Sebastian rushed after Scarlet. “Wait! Perhaps you should give it a few days thought— Scarlet!” She turned, a resolute sigh escaping her lips. The queen bid her kingdom farewell. “I’ll tell you everything you want to know. All about my life. Please…” Sebastian pleaded, his hand outstretched before him. “Stay.” Wicked Angels - Sequel to Dark Rapture 177

’m not ready yet,”

“I she whispered. “I need some time to myself, to spread my wings.” She placed the rose on his palm. “I do love you, Sebastian. You will never leave my heart, as I shall never leave yours. I’ll be back…when I’m ready.” ***** He stumbled up the stairway, his toes tripping him across the stones as he wandered hopelessly toward her room. The hairline fracture in his heart began to seep and expand. Sebastian stumbled into the bedroom, clutching his chest as his breaths struggled for release. The room spun as he staggered to the open closet. Darkness enveloped his soul, squeezing his chest and forcing the blood from his heart in gushing streams. Grief encapsulated his entire being. The tufted ruffles of the bata de cola scraped across his cheek. Sebastian clutched the slippery fabric to his chest and pulled it down as he sank to the floor. He pressed his face into the black and crimson ruffles and it became soaked with his tears. “Oh, my escurido anjo,” he whispered. “Come back to me.” Michele Hauf

178 Chapter Twenty-Seven Californian mountains, 3 months later. “She’s so beautiful.” Crouched on her knees in the fresh fallen snow, Scarlet peered through ice-waxed branches at the cougar that sat watching her as intently as she watched it. “Speak to her.” Esmarelda’s breath formed a cloud of condensation near Scarlet’s shoulder. “She’s peaceful. She wishes to speak to you.” Focusing her energies inward, Scarlet closed her eyes. Over the past few months, Esmarelda had taught her how to persuade mortals, to focus her inner strengths which would aid her command of inanimate objects—lighting candle wicks and stopping flowing water mid-stream was very cool—but she had now mastered communication with beasts of nature. Beneath the thickening coat of winter fur, Scarlet could sense the steady proud beat of the animal’s heart, slightly cautious, yet open and ready for a new discovery. She opened her eyes. Come, she said in her mind. This will be a new experience for both of us. The cougar’s ears pricked and she thrust her nose up to sniff out the scents of the wooded cove. The smell of pine and bark and the underlying layer of moistness was coated with a rich clean blanket of early fall snow, common in the mountain range. Come. Scarlet stretched her hand out before her and walked forward on her knees, leaving Esmarelda behind in the cover of an overgrown thicket. She drew on her inner voice, the heart of her soul to communicate with the animal, which had now risen to her feet and had taken a few steps forward. In the past few weeks she had learned to calm herself

and to take

d been

complete control of her mind, the communication with animals ha

a natural step she had learned slowly yet it was becoming easier day by day. And now the challenge…to be allowed permission to use the cougar’s body. Borrowed body traveling, a term Adriano had invented centuries ago. She had been delighted to learn the vampire legend of changing into various beasts was partially true. But they didn’t morph or mist, or transform. This was a soul transfer. A dangerous trick, one that left the vampire’s soulless body behind, unattended while the animal transported their soul where commanded. A challenge well worth the dangers. The air was charged with a silent static as the cougar stepped cautiously closer, bridging the distance between it and Scarlet’s hand. Scarlet did not take her eyes from the beast’s golden stare. They held one another in a defiance of nature, beast to human, an immortal joined with nature. Please. Stretching its nose out, the cougar sniffed at Scarlet’s fingertips, not touching her flesh, though coming close enough to exhale its warm breath across her palm. And then the cougar’s stare became understandable. She was not afraid of Scarlet or the other immortal she smelled just beyond her. Yes, was her mental reply as she bowed her head to Scarlet. Knowing this would take intense concentration and all her mental strength, Scarlet reached deep inside for the core of her being and began to stretch it out as if a transparent coil,

Wicked Angels - Sequel to Dark Rapture 179 a coil that traveled through her body, encompassing its entire matter and makeup. It unspiraled throughout her limbs, tingling beneath her flesh until finally Scarlet felt it trace through her fingertips. She reached out, touching the cool, soft fur of the cougar’s face. Her fingers pressed into the thickness and felt the hardness of the animal’s skull. Scarlet’s vision went black and then immediately flashed to a brightness that nearly caused her to scream. Instead she let out a triumphant cry that echoed through the trees and brought a hail of brittle elm leaves showering down from the overhead branches. But it was not a human cry, she had used the cougar’s body to roar like a beast. It took only a few moments to adjust and take inventory of her new body. She stood on her hands and feet, now her paws, though the position was natural, as if she had never walked on two feet at all. Looking out through her new eyes her view of the world was a much lower level. Next to her lay her own body, motionless, her eyes closed and her hair falling across her lips. It was an eerie feeling to be standing literally beside herself, but Scarlet maintained her

want this experience to end with a sudden unexpected return to her concentration. She didn’t

body. As she wiggled her nose and sniffed about she noticed many things she had not detected in her vampire body. A mixture of scents from the creatures that roamed the land, and crawling beneath the bark of the trees in search of safe winter homes. A crystalline trickle of water from a creek they had passed a half a mile back now sounded so clear. There was

another heartbeat close by. Esmarelda. Scarlet flashed her a golden look, pressed her front paw deep into the snow, and then dashed away across the expanse of crystal whiteness. The cougar’s speed became her own. Scarlet felt intense exhilaration as she beat a path across the snow, bounding to the left and then stopping quickly and dashing to the right, testing her newly borrowed body. As she bound across the ground, delighting in the freedom and stealth of the cougar, a scent of warmth and speed jumped before her. Scarlet scanned the snow. A snowshoe rabbit sped just ahead beneath the cover of frozen branches. She could sense the beat of its heart, frenzied and fearful. Scarlet crouched low to the ground, her forelegs sinking into the snow, her hind legs poised to pounce. The rabbit’s ears pressed to its tiny head, its heartbeat never waning. In one instant Scarlet was aware she was only borrowing this body. She was not a cougar. The fearful rabbit before her was not her prey. But in the next, she knew the thrill of the chase was unavoidable. She sprang forward, catching her leap on powerful front legs. The rabbit dodged from side to side in a frantic attempt for cover, but Scarlet chased it out toward the meadow. She quickly gained, finding it wasn’t so much her eyesight that kept her on the rabbit’s trail, but more her sense of smell that guided her. One jutting pounce landed her prey beneath the thickly padded forepaws of her host. No. This beast is an innocent, Esmarelda’s thoughts traveled to Scarlet. She tossed the rabbit away where it landed in the snow, and dashed back to the trees where Esmarelda stood. The act of leaving the body was much easier than the entry, though

the pulling back of the mental coil did smart a bit. Michele Hauf 180 ***** “You miss him.” “I never stop thinking about Sebastian. I’ve been gone too long. I need to go home. I need him. And I haven’t had contact with my brother.” Scarlet touched the red vial Esmarelda had laid on the counter. “I don’t know how you did it. You must have been so alone without Adriano. Do you ever wish you could turn back time.” “Always. But time works wonders on pain. I’ve had love affairs since.” “Really.” “Women do have their needs. I was never one to consider a nun’s life.”

ught of Sebastian’s untold centuries. “He loved others, With a gentle laugh, Scarlet tho

too.” “But never in quite the same way as he loves you.” “I know.” “You are very lucky, Scarlet. Sebastian is the proverbial knight in shining armor. He would live and die for you. I know this by the things you have told me. Adriano was the same, fiercely proud and protective.” “I think it’s time I went home.” “So what do you think he’ll say.” Scarlet smoothed back a strand of hair from her eyelash and joined Esmarelda at the iron gate that surrounded the Bellange mansion. It had been months. All anger toward Vince had left. She felt only compassion and a certain sorrow regarding his stumble into

darkness. “I don’t know,” Esmarelda said. “Though I’ve followed my family for centuries, I’ve only watched Vince from afar. You know him. Do you think he’ll welcome me.” “I hope so,” Scarlet said with a gesture toward the top of the gate. One leap propelled her to the other side, followed by Esmarelda. Dead branches and crisp brown leaves crackled beneath their feet. Lingering smoke from a neighboring chimney tainted the air. Blake met them at the door. Scarlet expressed her sympathies to Rico when Blake told them of Catrina’s funeral held months ago. “He is coming out of his depression,” Blake said on a sigh. “But he’s still very reclusive. Vince is in the studio. You know the way.” “Thank you.” Scarlet was aware Blake’s gaze lingered on Esmarelda before he disappeared up the stairs and into the shadows. “It’s odd the Lyons family appeared to have passed down the stories and family history through the ages, but stopped quite abruptly when it got to Vince’s father.” “Not really.” Esmarelda’s hand brushed Scarlet’s as she led her partner down the dark hallway to the studio. Not a single lit candle, nor light. “Alexandre Lyons III is what you might call the black sheep of the family. Not the sort of vampire even I would care to meet in a dark alleyway. He has no care for family history or legacy. His mind is tainted with dark evils. He fell in with a very bad crowd after his transformation.” “You think you can rescue Vince from the dark control his father’s blood has over him.” Wicked Angels - Sequel to Dark Rapture 181 “I hope so,” Esmarelda stopped behind Scarlet at the door. “But I won’t push. Vince is

his own man. I will be satisfied with his acceptance of me as family.” Since arriving back in L.A., Scarlet had been on edge, her nerves jittery and her adrenaline rushing. It was a painful process this prolonging her reunion with Sebastian. But she had promised she’d make introductions between Esmarelda and Vince. Smooth the path between the two of them. Soon, she thought to herself. You will be in his arms again. Vince sat beneath the glow of a single candle, his hair cresting the bottom of his black Tshirt. He walked two fingers across the piano keys, a simple tune. The Mucha lithograph of Catrina had been removed. Scarlet stepped inside the studio. “Vince.”

ingers left the key

His f s. Without turning, Vince clasped his hands on top of the grand and lowered his forehead into them. “Scarlet, I thought I’d never see you again. I was cruel. I should have never—” He glanced around, his eyes falling on the woman standing beside Scarlet. “I want to introduce you to someone,” Scarlet said as she reached behind her and felt Esmarelda’s solid grip in her hand. Vince stood and stepped over the piano bench. Gray circles shadowed beneath his eyes. His white silk shirt was wrinkled and the cuffs were unbottoned. He tried a smile, and it warmed Scarlet to her bones to see the familiar charm return. “This is Esmarelda de Trastamara, Vince. Esmarelda, Vince Lyons.” Vince took Esmarelda’s hand, but when it appeared he was going to question who she was, he suddenly fell to his knees. “Oh, my God,” he gasped. Scarlet looked to Esmarelda, who smoothed her free hand over Vince’s hair. “Who are you.” he asked. “Why do I feel as if…as if…” He looked up into Esmarelda’s eyes, searching, pining for the answers. “It’s like the floor has been pulled out

from under my feet, and I’m falling. But I don’t mind. It’s so good, and enormous this feeling.” “You remember I told you about Esmarelda,” Scarlet said. “In the diaries.” His memory ignited, Vince’s eyes grew wide. “Please stand,” Esmarelda said with a gentle pull to Vince’s hands. “I am the mother of your bloodline, Vince Lyons.” “Yes. I can feel it when I touch you. I don’t know what to say. Why are you here. Why me. You’ve lived for so long.” “I think you need me,” Esmarelda offered. “Family.” “Yes, family,” Vince whispered. Awestruck, he simply stood there, his tearing gaze fixed to his and Esmarelda’s hands. Family. Scarlet stepped away from the twosome. Her family awaited her. She had been gone far too long. It was time to go home. Michele Hauf 182 Chapter Twenty-Eight The air inside the castle was heavy and dusty. All the windows had been sealed up against the rain, the rose bushes out back trimmed to skeletons for the winter. Scarlet padded softly over the field stone floor. She now sought solace, comfort, caring arms to pour out her soul to. Her blood master, her soul mate, Sebastian DelaCourte could fill the missing hole that had hollowed her heart since arriving back in Los Angeles. Anthony sat plopped on the divan across from the television. Plopped putting it lightly, it looked more as if he’d been roosting for weeks in the same spot. Dust covered

everything except the television screen. “My, but we’ve become lax in our household duties.” “Bloody Christ!” The remote control went flying and the scattered newspapers on the divan cushions crinkled beneath Anthony’s legs. “Sc-Scarlet.” He swiped a hand across his sweaty brow. “You’re back! You’ve been gone for almost three months. Sebastian has

”

completely given up on you, and now here you just appear, out of the blue.

“What did you mean when you said Sebastian has given up on me.” “He’s been waiting for you, Scarlet. But then…” Seeming a bit choked up, Anthony crushed haphazard spikes of his hair beneath his palm. “He’s gone under.” “Sebastian.” “Yes. You’ve been gone for so long. He just gave up, leaving his music and the world behind. Your leave crushed him. You can’t imagine how badly he was hurt.” “How long has he been in hibernation.” “Months. After you left he tried proudly to go on as if nothing had ever happened. Though I could tell he was torn apart inside. He went to a few recording sessions, then one day he told me to start taking messages, tell his manager he was on vacation. When you left, you took Sebastian’s soul with you. “He didn’t want to interfere with your life. You made it quite clear to him you did not love him and you wanted never to see him again so…” “But I do love...” she whispered. “I never told him I didn’t—” She had wanted the answers so badly, needed them, that she hadn’t even thought how her absence would impact Sebastian. The vampire life had been so new to her, she had no idea what to think of the smothering, obsessive love he had given her

She had stayed with Esmarelda longer than she had planned. But things had been so perfect. And now all her questions were answered. Answers she would share with Sebastian. “I should have written.” “Yes.” “Oh, Anthony.” She sunk onto the couch, crushing newspapers and empty potato chip bags under her thigh. “Sorry,” Anthony bent to pick up the mess. “I’ve been on a vacation of sorts myself.” “It’s all right. So much has happened in my absence.” She blew out a hefty sigh. “But I cannot change the past. I must look to the future.” Wicked Angels - Sequel to Dark Rapture 183 “Now that you’re back, you can release Sebastian from his torture.” Conviction gleamed in Anthony’s darting eyes. “Scarlet, you must…kiss the sleeping beauty awake, if you will.” “Yes, I will. If I had known…” She shoved a hand through her hair. In all her imaginings she never thought her absence would affect Sebastian so harshly. She thought him much stronger. “I never meant to hurt him.” But of course his strength would wane when his soul mate was not by his side. Scarlet had had Esmarelda as her strength. She had been too busy thinking only of herself. How cruel she had been! “Where is he, Anthony.” “In the dungeon.” The hallway was dark save for a gossamer slash of moonlight that hazed across the stone floor near the stairs. A candelabra clung to the cold stone as Scarlet took the first curving step. Spider webs traced the white wax, bearding a gargoyle’s chin and

giving the grotesque figure eerie wings of lace. “Guess we should have given Anthony a vacation a long time ago,” she muttered as she pierced the thick webbing with her finger. Once on the main floor she passed by the study, then stopped. Using the telepathic skills Esmarelda had taught her, she focused on the candelabra she knew sat perched in the darkness upon the shiny grand piano. The candles took flame, four of them, one after another. She ran her fingers through the dust, tracing a curlicue up

on the

surface of the piano. The baroque King Louis XIV furniture seemed to have been used, though the windows bore a coating of dusty dirt and the music laying open on the piano held more powdery dust. Scarlet sat before the ivories and blew gently, leaning back to avoid choking as the dust took flight. She scanned the sheet music. Sebastian’s handwriting. A new song she’d never heard before. With lyrics. A surprise. Sebastian’s music was always instrumental. She read the title scribbled in Sebastian’s elegant script across the top of the page. “Forever Scarlet.” “For me,” she whispered and touched the faded music. Hurried scrawls flowed silently down the page. The nights are an empty space… my heart bleeds for your touch…the memory of your smile, seems like yesterday…Since you’re gone I’m not the man I used to be…she lives in my heart, she is my soul, she is Forever Scarlet. Scarlet swallowed, and closed her eyes. He had never loved another, never betrayed her…as she had him. How could you let me believe Vince had made love to you.

Sebastian’s only sin had been loving her too deeply, cherishing her too tightly. If anyone had loved blindly, it had been Sebastian. And in turn she had repaid his devotion with betrayal. She sniffed away the beginnings of tears and stepped from the piano. The castle walls enveloped her in a cold silence that threateed with its hollow emptiness, and at the same time, offered a peaceful invitation, a refuge from the rush of the real world on the other side of the stone walls, a sanctuary whose echoes and whispering breezes coaxed her further. Michele Hauf 184 Her bedroom remained unchanged. The rose motif window of crimson and forest green glass had been cracked open to allow a gentle wisp of wind entrance to curl about the chiffon billows that trailed from the bed canopy down each of the four mahogany posts. The bed quilt was unwrinkled and pristine. He has not slept here when I was gone. The row of cut glass perfume bottles were dusted and tidy on the vanity. Her few mortal possessions that had been saved, though she hadn’t acquired much since she had become immortal. But there was one thing out of place. The closet door hung open. A curve of red ruffle lay in sight on the stone floor. Scarlet knelt in the darkness of her closet and pulled the heavy ruffles into a bundle against her face. A faint whisper of her rose perfume was detectable. And something else… She could sense it as she could also sense the very minute pulse of his heartbeat shrouded in the depths of the castle walls. It beat lethargically, perhaps once every half minute, but there was a stronger vibration that ran through the walls, permeating the stone and her flesh.

His sadness. It hovered in the air like a black fog. And it laced within the fibers of the dress, pain planted like seeds from his teardrops. Scarlet winced and pulled the dress away from her face, her own tears now weaving

an’s dried pain. “Forgive me,” she whispered. “I should have never left into the fibers and reigniting Sebasti

as I did. But I know now it was the right thing to do.” She stood and shook the dress until the rows of crimson ruffles curled at her boots. The look on his face as she’d twirled about in these ruffles made her smile. I give you the moon and the stars. He’d always promised her the moon and the stars. And she had always had them. But now she wanted more. “I’m going to make things right. My love for you is no longer hampered by confusion and uncertainty. I know who I am. And I know what you can become. I’ve been without you for too long, my love.” The candlewick took to flame reluctantly, but when it finally acquiesced to Scarlet’s silent command the room glowed. She smoothed her hands over her hips where the snug fitting bata de cola met up with rows of frothy crimson and floated down to her heels in an ocean of bloody waves. Her insides fluttered with anticipation, a minute shiver traveling from shoulders to toes. Like the anticipation of a lover’s sudden kiss placed on the nape of her neck as she lie resting, or the desire for Sebastian’s fingers to dance across her breasts, she

delighted in the thrill. And too, the sadness beckoned. Scarlet curled her fingers around the slim black taper and walked to the wall where the

ng inward, opening to a spiraling

stones swu secret passageway. These narrow twisting steps had always troubled her before, though now she held her head high and descended them with ease. Perhaps she floated. It didn’t matter. Esmeralda had shown her her inner confidence Wicked Angels - Sequel to Dark Rapture 185 and soul. There was no obstacle she could not overcome now. She had no fear to slip or fall. Nor did she need someone to be there to catch her should she fall. Her life was her own. I am Scarlet. A vampire. No regrets. And even knowing she needed no others she also knew what was missing. Sebastian DelaCourte. Dried leaves crackled at the touch of her footsteps as she descended into the dark hallway. It had never been used for the imprisonment of anyone but rather than basement, dungeon seemed the appropriate word. It housed six small rooms with tiny slit windows near the outside walls, though each room was empty save for the one in which she and Sebastian kept their coffins. To her right was the one room Sebastian called his sanctuary. The walls were lined with candelabra and a Persian carpet rested neatly in the center of the room. Nothing else, except the massive network of spider webs that shrouded the candles. He would come to this room for quiet and inner-strength. A place to relax and unwind before a concert.

A place to fortify his mind with solitude before beginning to compose a new piece. Scarlet pulled a clump of sticky gray spider webbing from one of the candles and touched her candle to its wick. She took her time, fighting the incessant urge to command them all to light and rush down the hall to her lover’s arms. Instead she used the emotional pain to pace herself, to prolong the desire. “I need you so badly, Sebastian. But we must do things right.” After lighting dozens of tapers, she placed her candle in an empty sconce and left the room. A golden aura burst from the doorway, lighting her passage to the far door. It did not move. It was bolted from the inside with a four inch square piece of oak. A measure that they used only if both were inside. Strange… Did he not think she would return. Her fingers curled around the cool iron doorpull. Scarlet closed her eyes and bowed her head. Listening. Another pulse. His heart beat. So very slow. Another sudden pulse. His body sensed her presence. Envisioning the thick bar in her mind, Scarlet heard the heavy wood slither across the door as she commanded it to slide from the iron slots. Already her skills were coming in handy. There was just enough light so she could see her hands as gray outlines only against the cold surface of the ebony coffin. Her heart pulsed rapidly as the intensity of Sebastian’s heartbeats increased. Unable to prolong the reunion for another second, Scarlet pushed the coffin lid up and pressed her hands to the cold black silk that covered his chest. His scent curled about her nose and entered her head in a twisting wave of spice.

Her hands as her eyes, Scarlet felt along her lover’s body. Frozen in a vampire’s sleep, his blood the only movement beneath her flesh, he was aware of her presence… for it was only his body, not his mind, which had been trapped in the dark cove of hibernation. Scarlet’s fingers slipped deep into the coolness of his hair. Shivers reminiscent of their lovemaking traveled her body in swift journey. She drew her fingers up, touching her lips to the tips of dark gypsy hair that grew to her lover’s elbows. Michele Hauf 186 Sucking in her bottom lip, Scarlet closed her eyes to the minute ache as her canines descended, puncturing her flesh. As the blood came she pressed her lips to her lover’s mouth, moving gently against him, parting his mouth so her life could stain his tongue and throat. His flesh grew warm against her cheek. His heartbeat, over which her hand rested, pumped faster, surpassing the speed of a mortal’s resting heartbeat. His desire had ignited. “I am yours, my love,” she whispered into his mouth. Wanting moans birthed from his gut. His limbs reanimated and Scarlet felt the needful grasp of his hand on the back of her head as he pulled her down into his embrace. He needed very little of his master’s life to set his own resting soul back into motion. She pulled away and his body followed. He leapt to the floor, as graceful and animate as a cat, the darkness making him a black shadow crowned by gleaming blue-midnight waves. “Sebastian,” she whispered loudly, hoping to pull his mind from the last fragments of vampire sleep. Two stars fell from the sky and reappeared in his obsidian eyes. He blinked. The

shroud had been lifted. “Ma chèrie.” He fell to his knees, crushing the trail of crimson ruffles curled about her feet. He wrapped his arms around her hips and pressed the side of his face into her stomach. “You’ve come back.” “Kiss me.” Everything became right as Sebastian slipped his arms around her and pressed his body into hers. She had known all along it could be this good. If kisses could be made of magic and wishes and of dreams fulfilled than Scarlet prayed for this one to never end. “Forgive me.,” she asked. “You know I needed to do this, but I never intended to be away for so long.” “But—” “Hush,” she silenced him with a finger to his lips. “I was led away by the quest for the powers I knew I possessed. Powers I shall teach to you. Powers of the mind, body and soul. But it was an even greater power that led me back to you.” “Which is.” “The power of love, Sebastian. It is like a cord of steel connecting the two of us. It binds me to you in ways I will never question or doubt. I love you, Sebastian DelaCourte.” “I love you, Scarlet.” “Then prove it.” She tilted his chin up and starlight shone across his wondering eyes. “Come with me.” The train of ruffles swished across dust and tiny pebbles and Sebastian’s boots clicked sharply just behind. “You’re wearing the dress,” he said in surprised adoration. “To please you.” Scarlet led Sebastian inside the sanctuary. A hundred flames crackled and glowed, surrounding them in a yellow aura. The walls sparkled and danced with soft amber light and

a shower of warmth filled the room. She inhaled the burning scent, clutching Sebastian’s fingers tightly. “There is something we must do now.” Candle glow shone across his hair in an amber slice and touched his eyes with the warmth he had always thought he had lost centuries ago when the vampire’s curse had taken him. But Scarlet knew better. Wicked Angels - Sequel to Dark Rapture 187 “I’ve learned much these past few months. Esmarelda taught me things…about myself…about you…about vampires…things I will share with you.” “I can feel it in your presence. You’ve a new confidence.” She pressed a finger to his lips. How had she lived for months without the touch of his kiss. “I needed this time to discover. And I do not regret it for one second. But if I had known my absence would send you into such sadness…” Sebastian shook his head. “Your leave wrenched out my heart. I wanted nothing of this world if you would not share it with me. I guess, in the back of my mind, I always knew you would return. But it was hard to see past the heartache. But you are here. That is all that matters now. But…are you here…” “Forever. I know now neither of us could function without the other.” “We share the same blood,” he added. She pressed her palm to his chest and he caught her wrist in his grasp. “Two hearts, one soul.” “For an eternity.” She sealed their pledge with an urgent kiss. Their clothing seemed to melt away with the flames. They fell to the carpet and their bodies became one. All things were right. They were in tune, in synch, their bodies relieved to have the missing piece back, their minds focusing on the other, and their blood as one. Scarlet Rose was now complete.

Michele Hauf 188 Epilogue Sebastian’s sigh pulled his entire body down with him. He touched the pages he had been slaving over for the past months. Pieces of paper that held his deepest fears and torments, his innermost triumphs and defeats. Scarlet knew he had been working on his life story. The urge to write down his own history was great now he’d read through the Lyon’s family diaries. And Esmarelda—now staying at the beach house—had encouraged him. It was cathartic to write down the events he’d lived through. Scarlet would sit by him from time to time, nestle her head on his leg, while he wrote. But she’d always ask the same question. “Can I read it when you are finished.” “Yes, of course,” he would say, more as a means of reassuring than real promises. “Can I let her read this.” he wondered now. “There is still the one secret I keep. And to reveal it may threaten to wrench Scarlet from my life forever.”