Dark Rapture (42 page)

“
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 little worried about Vince. But when he arrived last night, I stopped. He seemed quite normal 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 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.”

“Sebastian?” Anthony appeared in the doorway with a manila folder. “The courier is 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.

Chapter Three

Spain, 13
^th
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 going 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 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 t-shirt. “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 six-foot-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.

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 pre-vampire 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 had grown to crave. Its dark-clad inhabitants came for the sensual, 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 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.”

Scarlet stared blindly at Sebastian, finding 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.

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?”