Cara Mia - Book One of the Immortyl Revolution (12 page)

He didn’t miss a stroke. “You’re simply reading the language of the body, the timbre of the voice. Trust me, the less hocus pocus you believe the better. It clouds the mind.”

“How do you explain the visions when we share essence?”

He pulled out abruptly. “Visions?”

“I saw a man with long blond hair, standing in the snow. Who is he?”

He rolled off of me. “No one— you saw nothing! A hallucination brought on by ingesting blood, nothing more!”

“Seems to me, you know him well… ”

He ignored my questions and got up to dress. “Get dressed. You have reading to do.”

Ethan had peculiar ideas about our place in the world and thought it his duty to instruct me nightly in the drawing room. “Mortals are lesser beings,” he said calmly, as he laid out his nightly game of solitaire on the inlaid card table. “You’ve undergone a metamorphosis. Your flesh is no longer mortal, and now you must shed the vestiges of the puny human psyche. Open your consciousness to new possibilities… ”

I struggled through the dusty old tome he’d assigned me, scowling. This philosophy of his was, in my opinion, simply a case of some animals being more equal than others, but it was seductive when offered by the epitome of male beauty. To Ethan, after living thirty-three years at the apex of human development, it seemed only natural that his new form took on divine proportions. It really isn’t hard to imagine how he’d come to this conclusion. One look at Ethan would have made a believer out of the most hardened skeptic.

Ever the curious little cat, I put down the book he’d assigned me and thumbed through a very old leather bound photo album on the table, to a picture of a girl, fair, very slender, in her late teens. Her eyes stared out of the old daguerreotype like a plea for help. No one ever smiled much in those old pictures but she looked positively scared to death. “Ethan, this is your wife?”

An annoyed look came over him. “Yes— that’s Sally Anne.”

I couldn’t help feeling jealous. “Did you love her?”

“We were ill-suited. I married her out of duty. My father was afraid he’d die before seeing any grandchildren. She was the least objectionable choice.”

I felt another more severe stab. “You had children?”

A pained look briefly crossed his face. “Two sons, Robert and Joseph,” he said, quietly turning the leaf to show me.

I looked down on two toddlers dressed in the fashion of a century ago, the unmistakable stamp of Ethan on those sweet faces. Gut instinct told me he still grieved for them. “Ethan, can’t we have a baby?”

His face had that sudden odd look again. “No. We procreate through the blood.”

“What if you had taken me and I hadn’t— gotten rid of it?”

“An abomination that would have devoured you from inside. We’re sterile. We’ll never make a child together.”

I sank to the floor in a heap, sobbing. For some reason, in the glow of transformation, I’d never considered this. What had I deluded myself into thinking? I wasn’t really alive anymore was I? I was some kind of ghoul now no matter what fancy name we called ourselves. Ethan lifted me to my feet and held me close. “Hush now little bird, don’t cry. I understand.”

I tried to free myself. “You didn’t
murder
your own offspring! I’m eternally damned for what I did!”

“Who is to judge what you did? It was the best thing you could have done, under the circumstances. There’s no such place as hell, except for the one men make, but you are my angel, and I can’t bear your tears.”

I choked back the tears as he ordered, but I’d never absolve myself of the responsibility. Every time I went to his arms I’d remember what I’d done to get there. Yet, there I was and how I craved his embrace. If he was damnation— then I was damned.

Ethan’s regime didn’t let me hunt at first, instead he taught me to navigate the sinuous web of the human mind and just what strings to pull to get the desired result, involving me in complex seductions with mortals. Physical attractions snare the victim, but he trained me to play the vampire on a higher plane, to learn the victim’s weaknesses and exploit them, whether the demons be sexual, psychological or both— more challenging and hence more of a thrill at the game’s conclusion.

More than just a voyeuristic thrill was involved in these nasty little con games we played. Each time we took on more complicated scenarios, more complex rules and more wealthy victims, and he guided me through each with a sense of deadly purpose.

He also dictated my appearance, wardrobe and manners to the letter, until I was completely his creation, his dress-up doll. However, Ethan’s lessons also involved the use of less feminine weapons, namely knives and firearms, and the best methods for dispatching Immortyls, quick decapitation or a large caliber bullet to the brain or heart. I couldn’t imagine why he wanted me to learn all that.

After several months of training, Ethan finally let his falcon fly solo. We drove up north, all the way into Connecticut, to a lonely Tudor knock-off on a hill. Dusty gravel driveway crunched like shards of dried bone under our feet, while the Long Island Sound crashed on rocks below. Leaded glass windows on the first floor were dark, no beacon shining to welcome our arrival. I asked him who owned the house.

“Your former lover’s wife— time you did the honors.”

Up until now, Ethan had done all the actual killing, and I might have balked had it not been Richard.

We crept around to a completely modern patio and swimming pool surrounded by chairs and chaise lounges, where I envisioned Richard and Katherine on fine days, drinking cocktails and spitting venom.

A foghorn belched over the water. Mist enveloped the house like in some old Universal horror flick, the perfect setting. I could smell Richard’s blood already.

Ethan jimmied the back door and we stole into the house. Bluish moonlight streaming into the cavernous phony English Country interior set Ethan’s eyes ablaze. I ascended the stairway, gracefully in the manner he’d taught, careful not to let the tapping of my tiny heels ruin the element of surprise.

A small pool of light spilled out into the hallway. Berlioz on the radio. I took one deliberate step after another, forcing myself into the dark corner bearing Richard’s name. A baby cried desperately for help. Legions of demons poured out as I lay again on the table, cold instruments invading, tearing into me.

I took a deep breath and swooped into the room, alighting on the bed. Richard’s book fell to the floor with a thump. “Mia, good God, everyone thinks you’re dead!”

“Good thing you had Katherine as an alibi that night. Do I look dead to you?”

Beads of perspiration came on his forehead, the smell of adrenaline coursed through his body. “I’m relieved to see you alive.”

I traced the line of his throat, reaching unbuttoning the topmost pajama button. His pulse raced under his damp skin.

“We had a little appointment that day, remember? In
Sumara.”
I ran my other hand up his thigh, a teasing little spider crawling up the old waterspout. I tossed my hair filling the air with a pheromone cocktail and slipped overtop him. His fingers timidly brushed the bare thigh above my stocking. I smacked his hand away. “Naughty boy.”

“You’re still full of surprises.”

“You’ve no idea.”

Ethan slipped into the room, leaning gracefully against the doorframe and laughed.

Richard blanched. “What the hell?”

Ethan was at his best, the cavalier at his lady’s service, all panache. “The lady needed an escort… you bowed out.”

I pinned Richard to the mattress. Bringing my face very close to his I whispered, “You owe me a life,
Dick
.”

His bloodshot gray eyes gleamed with fury. “You’re crazy— the two of you. Get out of my house!”

“Your house?”

He pushed against me. A rush of power went to my head as he fought, my hands gripping his throat, his heart accelerating racing against mine. Blue veins stood out in his forehead as I bared my fangs. “What in God’s name!”

“I finally know how Hilde felt when she drove Solness up the tower. Pity, I’ll never play her again.
Frightfully exciting!”

His wide-eyed look of horror was almost compensation for the pain he’d caused. A warm wet patch of urine spread on the mattress.

“Not very romantic, darling.”

Ethan laughed, still in his casual pose at the doorway, perfect in every way. My bad boy never looked so good.

My lips brushed over Richard’s throat. “Our revels are now ended Richard. Thanks for the ride.”

I tore into the artery. A torrent of salt and iron slid warm down my throat and into my belly. His fingers clutched me as he whispered a prayer to the deceased god. My heartbeat grew stronger as his fought against the irresistible tide. Then— nothing. Demons ministered to me, fawning and caressing in adoration, whispering endearments, as I looked into my lord’s approving frosted eyes.”

Joe shuddered. “That’s sick.”

She ignored him and continued, “Ethan kept me locked away in his house for another couple of months, tweaking my skills until he was satisfied. Then one night I woke to find him holding a magnificent ball gown of blood red satin trimmed with spider web-delicate black lace and intricate jet beading, very old but beautifully preserved. “Come on, let’s get you dressed.”

After I’d dressed, he led me downstairs to the old ballroom, where I smelled the spicy perfume of roses, hundreds of them. Ethan moved silently about the room, lighting dozens of candles. He must have ransacked the house for candelabrum.

He softened in their glow, utterly devoid of the usual hauteur. I caught my breath in wonder. We were surrounded by masses of roses, placed about the room in vases and petals strewn on the floor. Boy, did he ever know how to make a girl love him.

He placed the needle down on a small phonograph. Waltz music filled reverberated off of the old walls like a heartbeat, as if the house was coming to life again after a long vampiric sleep.

He turned slowly. A pain like dying went through me. Wow, did he look good.

I stood, tremulous, anticipating his touch. What was this about? Was there some significance to all this?

He enfolded me in his arms. “Happy Birthday,
cara mia
.”

“But it’s not… .” I said, realizing the reason for this display, as his lips locked onto mine. It wasn’t my birthday, not in the usual sense, not the anniversary of when my mother fatally labored to bring me into the world. It was the date I was reborn to
him.

He reached into his breast pocket. Blood red and rainbow sparks spilled out into my hands. “Ethan, this must have cost a fortune!”

He clasped the necklace around my throat and kissed my bare shoulder. “A handful of cold stones cannot express the depth of my love for you.”

“It’s lovely, all of it. Thank you.”

He smiled, placing his hand on my waist. “Follow me.”

As if he didn’t know I’d tag along to the ends of the Earth. Add one more skill to his list of accomplishments. Was there anything he couldn’t do? My feet barely touched the parquet as he swept me about that blazing room expertly, leaving me breathless as always, a heavenly partner, devil that he was.

“I’ve engaged a villa on the Bay of Naples,” he said. “We leave tomorrow night. What do you think?”

Demons stirred in the dark corners. What did I think? Of my father, his warm hazel eyes looking down at me, his strong hand in mine, and my mother, her child-like face a memory from a photograph.

“I’d like to go very much. Oh Ethan, yes, yes!” Then it occurred to me. Europe, old ones were there. Was Ethan’s maker there? “Will we meet others?”

“Mia. There’s a certain etiquette I haven’t touched on yet.”

“Good grief, not more charm school lessons!”

He chuckled. “They won’t understand your charming impudence. You mustn’t speak until addressed, or look one directly in the eye.”

Did I hear him correctly? Speak when spoken to like a child? “Shall I don a veil and chastity belt?”

“Keep your wits about you and obey me. They’re accomplished liars and will say anything to lure you to their den. Pity them if they succeed.”

“I can handle myself.”

“Seriously Mia, we can’t afford enemies.”

“Like your progenitor?”

Ethan’s face slammed shut. “We won’t be calling on him.”

“Aren’t you afraid of offending him? What’s his name anyway?”

“Subject closed.”

“But Ethan— ”

“Must you spoil this evening? Dance!”

We danced until the candles sputtered. Ethan made a brief turn about the room, extinguishing nearly spent tapers, one by one, until only a single melted lump was left burning, casting him in long shadows, his beautiful face a tragic mask. Turning to a vase, he plucked out the largest, most spectacular bloom and regarded its perfect blood red petals sadly for a moment. Facing me, he smiled. “Name your heart’s desire,
Madonna
.”

“Nothing but you… ”

Joe looked up. Mia’s eyes were a million miles away. “Mia. Are you all right?”

“Ethan was built on illusions… Like that game with the sticks… you pull them away and suddenly it all falls apart. I was all his illusions come to life to be loved and cherished. I never intended to… ”

This wasn’t something he’d expected. “To what?”

She was still staring off into space. “Ethan dreamed that science would free us from our bondage.”

“You didn’t answer my question.”

Her eyes rested on him, fixed and enigmatic. As usual he had no idea what she was thinking. “Joe. Are you married?”

“Yes,” he answered, evasively. He’d rather not think of the tension at home in her presence.

“Any kids?”

“Four girls, two boys.”

“Jesus, you’re no slouch in your off hours. Obviously, you find time in your busy schedule for some things. Any pictures?”

He pulled out his wallet and opened it to show her. The family portrait had been taken against Rima’s wishes. She’d put on a lot of weight since little Ali’s birth.

“Your wife?”

He nodded.

She grinned maliciously. “Not really your type, is she?”

The stabbing behind his eyes grew worse, a vise wrapping around his head. “We’ve been married twenty-one years.”