Dark Rapture (58 page)

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.

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

She stretched her legs across the ledge and leaned back, meeting his eyes with a withdrawn care and a sigh.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.

“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 believe this!” He pounded his fist into the stone step. “Not only do you betray me physically 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.”

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

“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.”

Part Two

Federico and Catrina Bellange

Menace in Venice

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.”

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.

“On the contrary”—Catrina stepped forward, offering 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 rose-silk 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 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.

“Oh, it’s not that,” Sebastian added quickly.

“We would be willing to pay,” Federico interjected casually, the 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!”

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 amazement at him.

Violetta nodded mutely.

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?”

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?