Dark Rapture (37 page)

Chapter Forty

Three Harley Davidsons slowed as they passed Vince. He strode down the boulevard, long leather fringes on his pants shimmying against his legs. Man! He'd never seen so much leather on a woman. And they were driving motorcycles. He picked up his pace, catching a sly wink from the one in the lead. The trio was decked out in shiny black leather thigh boots and tight-laced brassieres. They were wild and beautiful.

Still warm from his last victim, Vince caught up to the leader and slid a finger along the seat and up over her thigh, teasing it under the tight leather skirt that adhered to her skin.

"Nice bike." He raked his hand through his mane and gave her his best rock n' roll sexy pout. "You looking for someone to party with?"

The woman looked over her shoulder and winked to her friends. "Hop on, Gorgeous. I think we found what we're looking for."

Vince glanced to the other two women, both had slick red lips and touch-me-please long hair. "Three girls and one guy? Sounds like good odds to me. Let's go." He found his place behind the leader and slipped his hands around her waist. "Where are we going?"

"Going to check out a new party spot. It's out a ways, and lots of fun," she yelled over the rumble of the motor.

"Cool."

As they sped into the night, Vince slid his hands along the biker’s hot thigh and squeezed, eliciting a moan. He’d definitely have to take his chauffeur right away , maybe before they arrived. It was going to be hard to restrain himself with his legs pressed to hers and that luscious brown hair blowing across his face.

***

It was seven o’clock, and for the first time Sebastian felt his nerves on edge.

He was on his way to the studio, not the place he had planned on going. Blade, the lead singer for Fury, had just rung him on his cell phone. They needed him to come in and do another edit on the riff he had completed days ago. It seemed the master tape had been mangled in production and they had lost all his stuff, and since tomorrow was the deadline, Sebastian had to do it over. Tonight.

Bad timing. He had found Vince. Or at least he’d seen him walking the freeway out on the south edge of town just past the DecaDance bar. When driving past the place, the vibrations had grown intense. Francesco was near. Sebastian could sense the presence of his blood child.

Blade called just as he was starting to follow, and taking his eyes off him only for a moment, he had lost sight of Vince.
Damn.

Thinking this shouldn’t take more than an hour or two, Sebastian tried Gary’s number one more time. No answer.

“Where the hell is he?” he muttered as he dashed to the elevator. “I hope he isn’t waiting for me at my house.”

***

“What the hell?” Vince looked across the muddy field surrounded by barren trees and a cloak of rosy twilight sky. “Is this a graveyard?”

“Don’t you like it?” The brunette turned on the parked bike and effortlessly slipped her legs around his waist, locking him in a secure hold. The other two had driven in past the iron gate and he could hear their hoots and yells as they broke open one of the six packs taken from the bike's leather side pouches.

“Love it, baby.” He licked his lips. The irony of the situation was unbelievable. “You can’t imagine how much.”

They’d driven for a half an hour to find this place and all the while Vince had thought how wonderful it was they were going so far. And a graveyard! Cool.

She offered him a beer but he pushed it away and the can fell to the ground as he began to tickle her chest with the tip of his tongue.

“You look kind of familiar to me. You work in a bar, blondie?”

“I sing in a band” he said blazing a path up to her mouth with his tongue. “You ever hear of Wild Child?”

“I’ve dated a lot of wild ones, if that’s what you mean.”

“No, I mean the band. Ah, you’re not the rock n’ roll type, are ya? You seem more the death metal, sacrificial deity type.”

“Sacrificial type?” She pushed him back. “I usually listen to country. What the hell is your scene anyway? You’re not some kind of S & M weirdo, are you? Cause if you are you can high-tail it right on out of here. We’re just here for a good time, nothing kinky.”

Oh, I’ll give you kinky, Vince thought.

“Country,” he muttered and pulled her close to nip at the tender flesh on her neck. “Hate that stuff.”

“You’re in a hurry, aren’t ya?” she cooed and then began to unlace the glossy leather that sheathed her breasts.

“Don’t bother,” Vince whispered as he was drawn to her throat by the powerful hunger within. “A country music lover, huh? Well, then, I guess you’ll be getting what you deserve.”

“Wha—”

He pushed his hand over her mouth as his daggers sank deep into her flesh. She fought him, trying to squirm from his grasp, nearly toppling the motorcycle in the process. But Vince planted his feet on the ground and held tight, feeling her jaw crush beneath his iron grip. And all the while her sweet blood fed the hunger.

Velvet life flowed down his throat, quenching his lust and teasing the hunger to new heights. Vince sucked vigorously, feeling the struggle wane, and the woman’s body slumped against his as her heart beat slower.

And then it happened.

With two fervent pulses her heart begged madly for life and then burst. Her life exploded beneath Vince’s palm, pushing hot gushers of crimson up and into his mouth. This blood was rich and sweet, an exquisite prize surrendered to the powerful force that commanded it. An orgasmic swoon engulfed Vince’s body and he tilted his head back to take in the dizzying rush.

The woman fell to the ground in a swirl of mist and Vince grappled for the bike handlebars to keep from falling. He ducked his head to his chest and closed his eyes tight. This was incredible! Death’s blood was so much sweeter than life’s.

He smirked and giggled as the swoon began its slow departure, leaving him teetering on the edge of reality. He blinked, trying to focus on the girl. It was too bad, he thought, as he looked at her mangled face. She was the prettiest of the three.

Swiping a palm across his chin he cleaned his face of the woman’s stolen life and then remembered Francesco’s words. He had warned him, albeit lightly, not to kill, because if he did he would have nightmares or something. He couldn’t remember exactly. But it didn’t matter anymore. Not now that he had tasted death.

“Shit, now I’m going to have nightmares about Johnny Cash,” he muttered and hopped off the bike.

He scanned the grounds for the other two. They would be easy because both were so drunk. He trooped past the iron gate, high-fiving the wings of the gargoyles, and followed the girls’ voices until he landed upon the short one with curly red hair and a rose tattooed on her deeply bronzed shoulder. “Where’s your friend?”

“Takin’ a piss.” She giggled. toddling forward and nearly toppling over a raised mound of fresh earth. “Where’s Lynette?”

Lynette, so that was her name. “Same place you’re going, baby.”

Vince grabbed her by the hair and pushed his hand over her mouth. He wasn’t sure how much time he had before the other one returned so he wanted to make this quick. He knew that this one would die in his hands. She had to.

In minutes the redhead slumped at his feet, her head crushed against a new granite tombstone. Vince stumbled backward, fighting to control the powerful blood rush, but at the same time not caring if he did. And so he relaxed, allowing the wicked pleasure to envelope him.

Clutching a tombstone for support and blinking to clear his eyes, Vince read the epitaph. “
Harry Schmitt, Died a poor man but rich at heart
. Well, Harry, you have fun with Red here, she’s a keeper.” He patted the top of the cold stone, swiped the blood from his mouth, and went in search of number three.

Must have gotten lost, he thought, taking long strides across the graves. His steps took him over to the mausoleum. He was going to check each side until the scream brought him around and back to Harry’s grave. The last girl had somehow eluded him and slipped back to where Lynette’s bike was.

He cursed aloud, and ran for her. Seeing him coming, the girl stumbled away while her eyes raced from her friend's bloody face to Vince’s sinister approach.

“No!” she screamed, as he lifted her effortlessly and opened his mouth wide, exposing his razor-sharp teeth. He laughed, relishing her fear like it was an electric current feeding his need for more power. With a flick of his wrist, he snapped her neck, silencing her frightened screams, and tossed her to the ground next to Lynette. He stepped over the bodies and wandered back into the yard where the tombstones surrounded him on every side.

The night was quiet now, and redolent with the smell of motor oil and fresh blood. Vince exhaled deeply. An animal howled somewhere in the distance and he smiled. Jerking his head back, he howled in response, pulling his voice from his full gut and releasing it to the sky. He began to dance across the graves, disturbing the mist at his feet. Raising his knees high, he howled and yelled and danced an Indian dance in a circle around Harry’s tombstone and the redhead's body. He felt good. Strong and invincible. Nothing could stop him.

Vince tossed a stone across the yard and pulled his fist down at his side in elation when he saw that he’d hit his target. He pressed his back against the mausoleum wall and looked up to the sky. The stars were in full force, as if the moon had exploded, sending shrapnel across the darkness.

He reached for another stone in the rubble by his feet and then bent lower to examine the marks in front of him. Footprints. And not his, these were tinier, like a woman’s. They led up to the door and looked as though someone had gone inside. His brow narrowed as he wondered if Red could have had the time to check it out.

When he pushed on the door, his suspicions were confirmed. There was no way one, or even all three of the women, could have opened this massive thing. Which meant that someone extremely strong had to have gone inside. And recently, according to the still-fresh footprints.

The door creaked opened and slammed hard against the outer wall, the rusted hinges screaming in the night. Vince peered in through the billowing dust and gloom and saw one thing in the center of the room.

“Cool.”

He strode to the stone sarcophagus and examined the intricate carvings, deciding that when he got back to Francesco’s he was going to have to get himself a new coffin. Something fancier like this one, though not of stone. And something with more padding. He rubbed the back of his neck. Maybe with a pillow.

His little boy’s curiosity surfaced and he pushed on the cover, delighted when it moved. Since he’d become a vampire, his strength had increased immeasurably. Another push, and the smell of roses wafted up to Vince’s nose. Eager to find out what was inside, he pushed the cover back all the way and gasped.

Chapter Forty-One

Sebastian sprang for the phone. “Gary?”

The phone crackled angrily as Gary spewed out, “Where the hell have you been? I’ve been trying to get hold of you all night! Don’t you want to save Vince? What’s going on?”

“Gary, settle down, let me explain. It’s only nine. We have plenty of time.”

“Where were you?”

“I tried to call you but no one answered. I was called in at the last minute. Fury had some changes they needed made before their disk goes to press. I’m sorry, Gary, it was unavoidable. Sit tight, I’m on my way right now.”

“Good.” There was an empty pause before Gary chuckled, and spoke again. “You can come and bail me out. I’m at the police station.”

***

Ethereal in the pale light of the stars, her face was smooth like milky porcelain, the lids of her eyes shaded pink. Her lustrous mane spread around her head as if positioned by an artist for a study. Her perfume, imprisoned for an unknown amount of time, freshened the musty air and hypnotized Vince.

The woman he’d dreamed of was lying beneath him, still and composed, unaware of his presence.

He looked out toward the graveyard wondering how long she'd been here and
why.
It had been a while since he'd seen her.
Since she had disappeared
.

Was she still alive? Of course, she had to be. Francesco said that Sebastian had given her the vampire’s life. But she was so still. The red silk shirt wasn’t moving above her chest. Vince pressed his fingertips to the vein on Scarlet’s neck while his heart beat madly. He felt no pulse.

But wait! Yes, there it was. It had slowed to a snail’s pace and he held his breath in anticipation of the next beat. It was almost a full minute before her vein again pumped sluggishly against his fingertip and he sighed, relieved.

Pressing his palm over her cheek he realized that she wasn’t as cold as he’d expected. Though she was chilly, there was a hint of warmth near the center of her cheek. Smoothing his fingers through her silky hair, he wondered if Sebastian had put her here. What had such a sweet face done to bring this sort of punishment upon herself?

“Oww.”

A piercing ripple pushed through his skull, blackening his vision. Vince clutched the side of the coffin and closed his eyes. He couldn’t see a thing, even with his eyes open and now all sound ceased. He shook his head, trying to clear it. His body shuddered, and he had the strange feeling that something terrifying approached. Coming closer.

In his mind his body bent and shuffled to disappear behind a thick bedpost. He pulled the calico dust ruffle over his face until only his eyes showed. He looked down and saw his feet. Only they weren’t his feet, they were child’s feet wearing black leather shoes with a tiny white pearl sewn onto the toes.

A shadow appeared in the doorway. It crept closer, thickening and darkening as he quivered and pressed his tiny hands to his mouth and began to nibble nervously at the fleshy tips of his fingers. He knew what was coming. The man. He was Daddy’s friend. He came every Friday night without fail. He did things that hurt so bad and then wouldn’t leave until the promise of silence was given.

“Ahggh,” Vince bit his lip, and felt the cold stone pressing into his forehead and knew he was back.

Shaking his arms loosely at his sides, he smoothed the hair from his sweating cheeks and forehead. “Shit.”

He knew what he'd just experienced—the nightmares Francesco said would come with death. But he wasn’t going to give what had happened another thought. Because he knew that if he did he might go mad.

Back to Scarlet. If Sebastian had placed her here it was certain he'd be back for her. Wouldn’t he?

Vince’s mind raced. Now was his chance. She lay there waiting the kiss of life. She needed blood to open her eyes and breathe deeply once again. And he wouldn’t deny her anything. For he felt if she were to wake to
his
blood, then he might become her new master. It made sense.

“Yes,” he whispered. “You will be mine, Scarlet Rose. And I will love you like you’ve never dreamed.”

He wrestled with the idea of lifting her out, but upon shaking her gently at the hip he saw how stiff her body was. The ride back to Francesco’s would prove a challenge with a rigid vampire on the back of a motorcycle. He would have to revive her here.

Not sure of the proper procedure, Vince relied on instinct to guide him. His teeth lowered, slitting open his bottom lip. Carefully, he stood on tiptoe and leaned into the shadows of the coffin to let the blood drip from his mouth to Scarlet’s pale pink lips. At first it pooled there, but then it began to soak in. He hovered with his fingers pressed to her neck, hoping for some reaction. And he was rewarded with a rush of warmth to her skin. Though her eyes were still closed and she seemed unconscious, her skin flushed and he was able to lift her hand and bend it at the wrist. She was reviving.

He straightened and watched as the last drops of blood were sucked between her lips and her pearly fangs descended. The blood hunger worked automatically. Lifting her under the shoulders, Vince pulled her up and pressed her mouth against his neck, pushing until he felt her fangs pierce his skin.

“Drink from me, Scarlet. Awaken to your new master.”

Scarlet fed slowly at first, and then ravenously, until her muscles were strengthened and she could slip her arms around her provider. Lifting her from the coffin, he held her in his arms. He watched the movement under her eyelids as her mind awakened.

“Oh, Sebastian” she whispered, still groggy. “You’ve come back.”

Vince walked to the iron-barred window and turned her toward the starlight. “Sebastian has forgotten you, Scarlet, he’s left you here to rot. But you’re safe with me now, because I love you.”

His words brought her around and Scarlet’s eyes flashed open. She pushed away and jumped from his arms. “Vince!” She wiped her mouth and stared incredulously at the blood smeared on her fist. “Where’s Sebastian? How long has it been?”

“I don’t know where he is. And I don’t know how long you’ve been in there. Doesn’t matter, because I’m here now.”

She didn't act as if she appreciated her new master. But she was so beautiful standing there with fists clenched and a smear of blood across her cheek.

“Scarlet, I can take care of you now. Don’t think about Sebastian anymore. He hurt you and locked you away in this smelly old crypt. He doesn’t love you. He’s a monster!”

“No more a monster than you are, Vince. What have you done to him?” she screamed and approached with fangs bared.

He stood firm, not willing to let this woman defy him.

“Take me to him right now,” she said, seething. “Has Francesco hurt him?”

“Why would Francesco hurt Sebastian?” Vince was confused. He knew that there was no love lost between the two of them, but Francesco had never alluded to wanting to hurt him.

“Don’t you know what Francesco is up to? He’s using you to get to me and Sebastian. He wants to take revenge on Sebastian by killing me. You’ve been with him, you must know that!”

She was lying. Vince wrangled her into his grasp. Her struggles were futile against his advantage of height.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about. Sebastian was going to leave you here. If I hadn’t come along, who knows how long you’d have been locked away. You might have turned to dust before he returned. Francesco was right, Sebastian is a dangerous man.”

“No!”

She screamed but it matched the scream in Vince’s head. The little girl was back and she was screaming, struggling to get free, just as Scarlet was.

Vince shut his eyes and tried to concentrate on Scarlet, but all he could see were the black shoes kicking into the air at the tall shadow that stood over them. He fell to the stone floor, releasing Scarlet, and shaking the nightmare off, he realized that there was new pain in his body. His knee throbbed where she had kicked him.

Scarlet’s words faded in, becoming louder as the last bits of his tormented fantasy slithered away. “Francesco has polluted your mind. Listen to me, I’m not the enemy, I want to help you.”

She slipped out of his arms as he nursed his knee, and scrambled along the floor toward the door. Vince pressed hard on the pain and leapt to her just as her hands touched the smooth pebbles outside the mausoleum. He tucked her against his chest and spoke urgently into the thick black hair that the wind blew away from her neck. “I can’t let you go. I don’t want to see you hurt any more. Francesco won’t hurt you, believe me, he told me so himself. Please don’t fight me, Scarlet.”

She grunted beneath him as her efforts to right herself were thwarted by his manacle clasp around her arms and chest. “He really did a number on you, Vince.”

Vince pulled her with him as he rammed his back against the stone doorway. The mist gathered around them, strangely scented with her rose perfume.

“Don’t you see that Francesco wants you to bring me to him so that he can kill me?”

“No, you’re wrong.”

“I’m right, Vince. Why won’t you listen to me?”

She bent and Vince felt the sting of her fangs in the tendons of his hand. He released her for a split second but then locked his fingers about her shoulder. “I’ll prove it to you. And then you’ll see.” He stood, his arms tight about her chest, and dragged her out into the graveyard.

Scarlet struggled to walk between Vince’s quickly slashing legs but she kept tripping over rises in the uneven earth. “Where are we going?”

“To Francesco’s,” he said determinedly. “When we get there, you’ll see that he has no ill intentions toward you.”

“You’re wrong, Vince.”

He avoided Harry’s tombstone, not wanting to send her into hysterics again. But the iron gate was close and she would see the two bodies by the bike. “If I’m right, will you give me a chance?”

“A chance at what?” Her feet kicked out as they passed the iron gate and her shoes caught the chain, rattling it down to the lower iron rails.

“At loving you.” He whispered the truth and closed his eyes, hoping she wouldn’t deny him. She had to accept him. Didn’t she know how he felt about her?

He set her down by the bike, but held onto her arm firmly, sensing her fear. The blood oozed from his hand where she had bitten him and he licked it clean, surprised that his own blood was tasteless and cold.

“Vince, I like you,” she started as he swung a leg over the bike and pulled her to him. “But I love Seb—Oh my God!” Her shrieks stung his ears and Vince quickly revved the motor and pulled her to his chest. “What have you done?”

“They’re just sleeping,” he said quickly, and dragged her leg over the bike.

She was unable to pry her eyes from the first woman's face, soaked in blood. “She’s dead!”

Vince shouted over the motor as they pulled away. “It was an accident. Don’t think about it anymore. Francesco’s castle isn’t far from here.”

He threaded his arm around her waist and pulled her close. She would accept him. After she met Francesco and learned the truth, she would love him as much as he loved her.

***

“This should be good,” Sebastian muttered as he hurried down the marshmallow-white corridor of the police station. He had no idea what Gary could have done to end up in jail, especially since the man was supposed to be worried about his sister and rescuing his friend. What had he done? Snapped his gum too loudly in the library?

Squeezing through a group of teens obviously too young for traffic violations but, from the dazed look on their faces, old enough to dip into illicit substances, Sebastian approached the desk. He rapped his fingers on the counter and scanned the scene. Two people sat behind the desk, one clad in police regalia, with night stick and badge, and the other a then black woman with gleaming tresses stacked atop her head. She smiled when she looked up and saw him, an instant victim to Sebastian’s charming grin.

“I’m here for Gary Rose,” he said, and then noticed the articles that sat on the desk to his right: an army canteen, a thick cross of gold metal nearly two feet in length, and . . . a wooden stake.

“
Mon dieu,”
he whispered, sensing the worst had happened.

The woman glanced down a roster of names and made a check with her red pen in front of Rose. “Oh, you’ve come to claim Mr. Loony Vampire Killer, eh? Ha, ha, this guy’s a case, and you’re welcome to him, buddy. Seems he was caught stealing the holy water from Saint Mary’s Covenant Church and then he wrestled the priest for that cross over there. Said he needed it to kill the vampires.” She rattled a ring of keys and walked down the hall. “Haven’t had a vampire killer in here for a while, must be a full moon.”

Sebastian eyed the equipment Gary had collected. The holy water and cross wouldn’t do a bit of good against Francesco; he'd not been baptized. He smirked, trying to imagine Gary wrestling with a priest for his cross. He’d gone through a lot of work to get a pile of unnecessary stuff.

“Sebastian! All right, it’s about time. You pay my bail for me? I’ll pay ya back, man.”

Sebastian pulled out his wallet, found two crisp fifty dollar bills, and laid them on the counter.