Fire Nectar 2 (8 page)

“What is it, William? Stop talking around the thing, blast it! What’s happened to Daniella?” Joshua spat out though the phone, his temper lost like a child’s.

Bulls-eye. William smiled, gazing out at the city lights before him, imagining they laughed with him, as he proudly shifted his weight and his jewels.

Score one thousand eighty seven for me.

He counted one, two, three... “She’s turned her first vampire. It’s the same thing that happened to you, all over again.”

William heard Joshua’s heart stop beating. As old as he was, he could hear a cockroach fart if he wanted to. He almost burst out laughing at the thought. He’d have to share it with Joshua another time.

All at once it hit him. His competitive nature had thoroughly overtaken his sensibilities again. Dammit! He must keep his dogs on a very short leash.

Joshua groaned painfully, “To me? You mean when…? No.”

Ashamed, William apologized, “I’m sorry, friend.”

“For what William, it wasn’t your fault. It was mine, and we both know it.”

William didn’t explain he had apologized for his own insensitivity. He cleared his throat. “Yes. Well, Marion was a master at deception. But about this new situation…I don’t have details. Elizabeth kept our conversation very brief. She did say that Daniella would not be happy we were summoned, but there is no way around that, I’m afraid. This is a matter for all of us to contend with, now.”

“Is that what Daniella wants?” Joshua asked, inferring a warning.

“It doesn’t matter what she wants, Joshua. And you know more than I do–she is most likely not in her right mind now.” Do not second-guess me, thought William, grabbing a mallet from the wall. He swung it around and paced, anger and righteousness building in his breast.

What Joshua said next, made William nearly break a window. “We’ll discuss it when we are all together, William. Where are you now?” Did Joshua not believe with his years and experience, that William knew what was best? Did he not remember who he was? Turning to the window, mallet swinging, he caught sight of himself in the reflection and stopped. He saw before him an immense form, angry over nothing, about to break a window with an ancient weapon in one hand, and a tiny modern cell phone pressed against his ear, in the other.

I look ridiculous, he thought. He shook his head, cooled his mind and tossed the mallet on the couch. Short leash… short, short leash. Well, my girls are in danger. I can forgive myself for feeling on edge.

“We must put an end to it at once, Joshua. The beast must be dealt with. I’m in New York, en route to JFK now. Because of the time change, it’ll still be dark when I arrive.”

“I was wondering how you would manage to beat the sun. I’m in San Francisco so my flight will take less than an hour. If I leave now, there’s plenty of time to get to and from both airports before the blasted sun comes for me.”

“She won’t get us this time,” William laughed.

Joshua chuckled, “Not this night, no.”

William could hear him stop, heard the sound of the room tone change, indicating he had changed locations. He listened to Joshua set an alarm–even knew what numbers he pushed, thanks to the telltale varying beeps. Then he heard Joshua’s heartbeat skip, heard his voice catch as he said, “It’s good to hear your voice, William. It has been too long. If only Ludovico could be with us tomorrow as well.”

Was he looking at something? Why the pause in leaving his home? “Indeed. A thought that has entered my mind often. Nevertheless, it will be great to be with you all.”

“Yes, and we all know you love a good war,” teased his musical friend.

“What man doesn’t?” William laughed and hanging up, he thought he’d be damned if he let Joshua beat him to Los Angeles. Time to get to JFK.

He set his jaw, grabbed his keys, hit the alarm code, and left, with nothing but his Armani wallet, his iPhone, and his immaculately spotless Boss suit. No time to pack. The race had begun.

“
I
’ll not marry you
, William! A fact I have told you not once, but thrice!” Matilda’s headstrong blue eyes flashed down at him. William stood, both feet planted firmly on the dirt road, sun shining in his eyes. His strong thick hands demanded from her horse a mandatory pause. He looked at her feet, hanging daintily together over one side of the animal, and he grinned up at her, thinking her truly lovely.

His obstinacy equaled hers, and to it he added determination, perseverance and grit.

“Do not fight me, woman! I’ll have you as my wife. To argue against me is a waste of your weaker feminine strength! You must know by now
–
I always win.” He looked to the growing audience of neighbors and villagers for support and encouragement. He received both cheer and chuckle in return. It was known. He always won, yes, but in duels against men. Some in the crowd were curious if his….er…charm…could win the mind and heart of a lady such as Matilda of Flanders.

Matilda looked round, embarrassed by the scene, and begged, “William, unhand my horse this instant, I implore you!”

“Not until you promise to be mine!” he announced to all. “This animal will not move forth until I have your word.” William’s large height and strength were impressive as he pet the horse with one hand and staid it with the next. Matilda could see she was trapped. Her horse enjoyed being stroked and had no intention of fighting her incorrigible suitor. She, however, did not bend to his will so easily.

“You shall not have it!” She replied, smiling despite herself, when the villagers cheered uproariously. Looking ‘round them, long dark braids swinging, she added for emphasis, “You cannot make me marry you, William! You cannot make me! So there!” Oohs and ahhs burst forth from the people around them. All were in awe of the lady’s courage!

Not liking in the least the reaction this announcement received, he decided he’d had enough of these games. He reached up and with one yank of her braids, pulled her off her horse, feet over head. Flying willy nilly, she squealed, catching her voice as he caught her. Saving her face from an introduction with the hard dry earth, he cradled her in his arms. She gasped and stared at him in shock and disbelief as he brought her face close to his hulking smiling countenance.

All at once, the world around them disappeared. She gazed into his eyes, quieted. He too, felt the seclusion their closeness seemed to grant. He felt that together they had something infinitely more special than mere mortals should. When he looked upon Matilda’s face, on this and every day, he felt as though his heart would burst, so large it grew. She owned him and his soul… and he hoped, felt and believed that he owned her and hers. But what if he was wrong, he wondered, searching her face, so close to his. What if he was destined to accept her disdain, and not her love? How could he live without her?

His Achilles-heel brought immortal doubt to his mind and softness to his eyes and voice.

He must know the truth. He whispered to his love so that only she could hear, “Is it because I’m a bastard, my dearest? Is this why you refuse me? Tell me. I’ll not bother you again, if it is so.”

Never before this moment, had she seen it. But there it was. She could see a child’s pain hiding in the grown man who held her, and she realized the truth. This beast, so strong and powerful, inwardly believed himself to be unworthy of love and true happiness. The sins of the father and mother, the constant mocking endured as a child, had caused him to question - at the very depths of his soul
–
whether God had put him here on purpose. With the mask torn off, she could see his honesty, his truth, and she knew…

He was the other half of her.

Matilda reached up and she touched his cheeks, felt his skin blend with hers as she whispered, “My love…My William. I see you now. Hear me when I tell you, to be your wife will make me happier than I have ever dreamed of being. I give you my word, my dearest. I am yours.”

She had found him, she thought. She had found her true love. There was indeed a God and he was good and just. William smiled upon her and lifted her high in the air. When he set her down to stand before him, he took her beautiful head in his hands and kissed her full on the lips, sealing their vow and their love, forever.

Only when the crowd went wild, did reality jar them out of their dream. William started at the noise, at the people, as his brain came alive to them. He laughed loudly, rejoicing with them. Her focus remained on him, solely on him, as she grinned and wrapped her arms round his strong neck.

T
he first truly beautiful
spring night had come to Paris and Mother Nature had seen fit to celebrate by lighting it with a compellingly bright full moon. Artists and easels answered the call and claimed the night as their own, spreading themselves over the hill of Montmartre as far as the eye could see. The canvases before them waited patiently in varying stages of completion, with varying levels of genius. Paint-splotched palettes held firmly and protectively in each artist’s hands, were a vibrant rainbow of potential.

In the paintings, Parisians played cameo roles. Here a pretty young mademoiselle smiled up towards her young suitor, there a large family spread with picnic on the grass, and over there, two men deep in discussion on the subject of Napoleon Bonaparte.

Of the latter pair, one scruffy-haired painter paid great attention, licking his canvas with colored bristles to capture their countenances, their friendship, their mood. The larger of the two appeared little more than forty-two years of age - broad of shoulder, command and experience. The other was twenty-six or twenty-seven, standing a mere five-feet-seven inches, his gregarious personality filling the gap. The artist worked quickly, expertly drawing their waistcoats, greatcoats, Hessian boots, neckcloths and pantaloons, which both wore in colors complementing their complexions to perfection; the elder’s Nordic fair and the younger’s Italian olive. Standing far from them and unnoticed, the painter drew them on a hill, where they stood comfortably together, deep in conversation - a conversation he could only see, not hear.

“The time has come to make things right. I had hoped it would not fall to this.” The painter furiously sketched a frown on the elder’s face, above deep-set eyes of wise almond-brown.

“He seemed to be, at last, one who could lead them.” On the younger face he stretched long sideburns, accentuating a strong neck above square light-hearted shoulders.

“Aye. But his power has replaced reason. No matter. I will correct the balance.” Blending mostly black with bits of brownish red, he painted tamed wavy locks spilling forth from beneath a glorious top hat, which adorned the elder’s head like a crown.

“What strategy will you employ this time, William?” In successful search for a softer hue of black, he mixed a dash of white and tucked beneath a smaller top hat, the younger male’s dark, straighter locks.

“Best to speak of such things in a more private setting, Ludovico. Though I know you are not well acquainted with the merit of discretion.” The painter finished then, by tweaking with his finest brush a twinkle in the elder’s eyes, adding a disarming charm to the beast.

With brush held chest-high, he watched his subjects share a laugh, then turn and walk away. Goodbye, monsieurs, he thought wistfully, as he set forth to fill in the scene. Here the faded faces of humans to their right and left. There, green grass, dark and short, with shadows illuminated by moonlight. There a tree reaching high to the heavens. And here, a streetlamp, shining with center bright.

L
ater that evening
William and Ludovico sat talking in the sitting room of the chateau Ludovico owned, and which remained vacant, save for when he visited France. The two had shared many conversations in this room over the centuries they’d known one another. The elegant furnishings were sparse, but very comfortable. There were three red velvet chairs stationed round a large low table in the center of the room. All were placed quite a bit away from the fireplace. A fire burned gently there, having past its peak a half hour ago. Large tapestries hung from the wall depicting scenes from biblical times, placed there by a previous owner, and left to gather dust. Ludovico did not hire servants to maintain the chateau. It was large, private, empty, and safe.

Ludovico had told William that he had turned a vampire, and tonight he was to meet him. Joshua had been a human composer whose work Ludovico had commissioned for years, sending money from Italy in exchange for first sight. When recently he had heard that the composer had been betrayed by a friend, that his work had been stolen and published without his consent or name, Ludovico had raced up from Italy to see what could be done. And that is when they had met. After little time, Ludovico had revealed to Joshua what he was, and had offered the gift of immortality to him.

He told William of Joshua’s restraint and moral fiber, of his musical gift and how he would surely create sounds that moved the soul, until the end of time. The new vampire was quiet, he warned, but he was good. A bit gullible perhaps, but eager to learn. And his heart ruled his mind, in that he had a romantic nature, unlike them.

That was all well and good, but the hour was late, and Joshua had not arrived at his appointed time.

“Do you know where he may have gone?” William asked, tapping his large fingers on the arm of the chair. “The hour has long since passed.”

“I know. I know. I don’t like it.”

William stopped then, his ears alert to a sound outside. “He’s here.”

“He is? Damned if I’m not jealous of your years. I always feel quite skilled until I spend time with you, and then I realize you excel in your sense of hearing, sight…”

“Speed, size
–
” William added, immodestly.

“Oh shut it! Here, is he? I cannot hear anything…oh wait! There he is. I am catching up with you, William!”

“I very much doubt that,” William smiled.

They waited until the new vampire entered the great foyer downstairs, locked the door behind him and made his way up the stairs, calling out to announce, “I’m here! Ludovico, which room are you in?”

“Upstairs!” He called back as he shot a look to William, wordlessly giving him command to be nice. William shrugged to let him know he was unaware of any need for niceties. Ludovico rolled his eyes, then watched the entrance. The moment Joshua could be seen he quizzed him with, “Now, where have you been?”

William watched from his chair. At this early age, unexplained absences and being late when you are expected, promised trouble. The temptations of the blood thirst were too strong and his discipline must be as it was with all fledglings, too weak. What had he been up to, William wondered as he eyed the young one’s guilty posture and expression.

“I got distracted. Again,” Joshua mumbled. He looked toward the fireplace, impossibly drawn in by its warm amber flames. “Everything is so new.”

“Oui. It is understandable. But where did you go, my musical friend,” Ludovico asked again, steadily. He would not be avoided.

“To…Montmartre. The moon was so beautiful tonight. Je m’apelle Joshua.” He turned and bowed in introduction to William.

William raised his eyebrows and offered a tilt of his regal head, but he did not get up. “The pleasure is mine. Montmartre, you say? How did you find it there?” William asked, his gaze unwavering and intense. Of music William knew little, but of lying he knew much. Joshua was lying, that was clear.

“Monsieur?” Joshua paused, about to sit down, and deciding against it due to the tension he felt palpably surrounding him.

“Where were you, really?” William asked.

“William, stay your suspicious mind, if you please. If Joshua says he was at Montmartre, then he was at Montmartre. My friend has found difficulty in understanding how we did not see you there, mon ami. We were on the hill, ourselves, William and I, just two hours ago. But, no matter. We did leave some time ago, did we not? Yes.”

“There were many people there. And painters. I’m sorry to have missed you,” Joshua added.

Ludovico jumped on that tidbit, wanting to believe him. “Indeed! Had you been there the same time as we, it would have been difficult to see us. We blended in with the crowd, and were discussing things of grave importance. We would have been distracted and not have been looking for your, either. Wouldn’t you agree, William?”

“Do you not see he is filled with anxiety at your query? I am persuaded that your fresh one is hiding something. Indeed, I am certain of it.”

Joshua looked horror-stricken and shot his gaze back to the fire. Ludovico laughed at the awkwardness lying heavily in the air. He looked from one to the other, “Well, this is a wonderful introduction indeed! William, who would not be frightened of you? That shrewd face of yours! Pray, let him be! Do you not remember what it was like in the beginning? Do not tell me that you handled yourself with the same aplomb you now possess.”

“I would argue that I was not so very different from who I am this night.” William’s broad chest expanded and he sat up straighter in his chair.

It took only a steady silence and single raised eyebrow from Ludovico to make a smile spread over William’s face. “I must allow that it was difficult to focus when I was newly turned. But I had forty-two years to lay my character in stone.”

“See! You can admit it,” Ludovico smiled back before turning. Joshua stood waiting for word to sit and join them. He looked quite put out and unsure what to do. “Joshua my boy, did you kill anyone tonight? Did you kill an innocent?”

Joshua, alarmed, shook his head no. William could not smell more than one person’s blood on the young vampire and he still looked hungry. There was no reason to fear that he had caused a massacre out there this night. Why then, was he lying? Was he caught using superhuman speed? Did he blood lust after someone he shouldn’t? William decided to let it go, for now, since not much harm could come of either scenario.

“There you have it! All is well. Let us move on! Sit, Joshua. Come!” Ludovico declared and stood to pat him on the shoulder. “William can be very intimidating, I know.”

William smiled at this. “I’ll try to be more welcoming. Bonjour, Joshua.”

Joshua smiled and nodded. He sat down and tried to look relaxed. Ludovico shook his head at the whole situation and went to stoke the fire, saying over his shoulder, “Good to see you smiling, William. It softens you.”

“You bring it out in me, comrade. Your humor is infectious and your laugh! It could cure the plague, I swear it! No. Let me!” William rose to help. His growing stature took Joshua by surprise.

Ludovico stopped and stepped back slightly from the fireplace, bowing deeply in thanks and acquiesced. “If you insist, but you know I love the rush it gives me.”

“I do. But I do not want to watch you get hurt. I do this for purely selfish reasons.”

“Get hurt? I? As if!” Ludovico feigned alarm and offense, but the sparkle in his eyes gave him away. Joshua was utterly confused.

“Aye. You! Now stand back.” William picked up three logs and tossed two on the fire, turning his head to watch Ludovico’s reaction, for fun. As each hit the dwindling blaze, flames jumped and hissed, sparks exploded from its core, and Ludovico jumped up and backwards in time with them. William laughed, “Your face, man! Control your face! You should not let everyone know your feelings as you do.”

Ludovico objected with a wave of his hand, “I do not mind showing my feelings, old man. I am made to feel!”

William threw the last log on the fire and stood straight, his height much greater than the Italian’s. He cocked his head and asked, “Old man, is it?”

“Oui. It is.” Ludovico said firmly, with a grin as he looked up at the beast.

“Pardonnez moi,” Joshua interrupted. William looked to him as though he’d forgotten he was there.

Ludovico turned his back to William, and faced Joshua to ask, “Yes?”

“Why does throwing wood on the fire make you jump so? It is merely a fire. We’ve all seen one. I do not see the occasion for excitement.” Joshua’s confusion arrested the room’s attention at once.

“Have you not told him?” William demanded, aghast.

“Indeed, a major oversight,” Ludovico answered, surprised. For all of his jovial leanings, he did take the important things seriously, William knew. This was a travesty.

“Ludovico, have you not taught him the basics? What have you been doing with your time? Other than giving pleasure to human females, you rake!” William demanded.

Joshua let out such a loud laugh that Ludovico jumped.

“I do not like your laughter, fledgling. There is no harm in my admiration of the female form,” Ludovico stammered, quite put out. He turned to William and added, “Indeed, I have been teaching him all I know, I swear it!”

“He has been doing that! And I have been the dedicated student, for I have never known a man to love women so thoroughly as our popular friend!” Joshua laughed.

William, egged on by the shocked countenance of Ludovico, happily joined in on the ribbing, “Half the city’s whores must own rings that once belonged to Lud!”

“It’s true. Ludovico’s given away three, in less than a fortnight!” Joshua announced and stood up to join them, happy to be on the same page with the elder at last. They laughed hard together, as Ludovico waved them off, his eyes filled with humor, despite himself. Then Joshua did the unthinkable. In his joy, he slapped William on the shoulder as a friend might, threw his arm round the elder’s shoulder, unaware that such a thing simply was not done. William looked at the artist, aghast and with a bit of awe, and instantly granted Joshua a lofty place in his esteem. He slapped Joshua’s back in return and in that moment, sealed their friendship. Ludovico watched the exchange, surprised. His chest filled with pride, his hurt ego assuaged.

“I did one thing right, did I not?” he asked.

Joshua, still grinning, looked from one to the other, unsure of why he was their focus now, and asked, “What was that? What did you do right?”

The fire burst forth a large single spark then, and all three watched its descent. Hitting the rug, it began to burn a hole rapidly into the ancient and delicate fabric. William brought up his boot and firmly stamped it with one blow. Silence hovered.