Darkness In The Flames (75 page)

Sidney glanced at the clock. “It is past midnight. If we are to hear this tale it should be soon, I think. Have you recovered sufficiently to relate what you can? To begin to paint the picture I believe you saw?”

Adrian sighed. “I am prepared to try.”

Katherine returned to his lap. “As am I.”

“Yes.” Nick nodded.

“I think I
must
.” Verity’s voice followed rapidly. “Perhaps the telling of it will ease the pain of it.”

“Very well.” Sidney sat back in his chair as Marcus slipped onto the couch to sit beside Rowan.

Marcus had no idea what was to come, but he knew it had to be bad. And he knew that Rowan loved Thérèse beyond comprehension. Therefore, Rowan would need a friend beside him for support should he find it too overwhelming to bear alone.

Rowan seemed to understand, flashing Marcus a grateful smile and laying a hand briefly on the other’s thigh. “Thank you.”

A mere whisper, but between
them
—it was sufficient.

Marcus merely nodded and leaned back to listen.

*~*~*~*

And so the story unfolded, told in halting words by Adrian at first, harsh descriptions of Thérèse’s capture and questioning. Katherine followed him, vividly describing her experiences at the hands of the two witch hunters.

It was raw and sexual, but she held nothing back, simply holding Adrian’s hand and letting the words come from someplace deep inside her.

Sidney realized that only a woman could tell this part of the tale. He interrupted frequently; questions that helped him put a time to this event, asking details about the clothing, the surroundings—all designed to flesh out the location and the era. They also served to pull Katherine back from the edge of these horrors, to distract her—distract all of them sufficiently to distance themselves from what they’d experienced.

“I’d guess we’re talking about the early fifteen hundreds or so.” He’d listened to Verity accurately describe clothing and Thérèse’s family environment. He was astounded by the tiny comments that illustrated how clearly all of them had lived this terrible thing. They had drunk not only Rowan’s blood, but Thérèse’s as well, the blood she’d released into Rowan along with her agonies.

It must have been powerful stuff indeed to result in such amazing clarity.

Sidney waved them on and Nick took up the tale, beginning the process of describing Thérèse’s torture at the hands of the Hun.

Rowan started to tremble as he listened, shudders that were obvious to Sidney’s sharp gaze. He noted Marcus’ arm slide reassuringly around the other man’s shoulders, a comforting touch that seemed to ease him a little.

Nick faltered to a halt. “I don’t know if I can go on.” He wiped tears away from his eyes. “To think that people can
do
that to one another.”

“They are not
people
, Nick. They’re animals.” Katherine spoke with force. “Animals that have naught but power on their minds.”

“Agreed.” Verity added her opinions. “Let me finish the tale—if I can.” She swallowed. “It went on. On and on. How Thérèse survived these tortures, I cannot begin to guess, but she did. Always believing—always insisting she was innocent.”

When Verity stumbled over Katya’s name, a silence fell in the room. A hush even Sidney was loath to disturb.

“She was dead. Such a cold tiny figure, no more than a child, really. She had suffered. Thérèse knew that without question—the blood, the strangely twisted neck…” Verity whispered the words. “I think Thérèse went insane at that moment.” She gulped back tears. “I cannot blame her.”

“Nor I.” Katherine added her emotional endorsement through tears that fell unchecked. “The savage agony of holding a dearly beloved sister, of knowing that it was indirectly a result of her actions that this life had been so horribly ripped away…”

Rowan choked. “It was the Hun, then?”

Adrian nodded. “Thérèse was sure of it. She did not see it, but she seemed quite convinced.”

“That filthy godforsaken
bastard
.” Rowan’s fists clenched on his thighs even as he too cried for little Katya and her fate.

“There were many such bastards, Rowan.” Sidney tried to keep his voice level, to quell the horror that even he was experiencing at this terrible tale. “The hunting and questioning of witches was common practice, I’m afraid. Those were difficult times in which to survive. Crops would fail. Plagues would come and go. In their ignorance, people did not look for the logical or scientific reasons. They looked for their answers in the mystical realm or in their religion.”

He shook his head. “Too often a witch would be blamed for a poor wheat harvest when an insect was probably the culprit. Bad hygiene resulted in devastating illnesses, but instead of bathing, villagers would hold a woman responsible, claiming witchcraft once more. ‘Twas easier to hang a witch than try and understand the intricacies of science. Especially when you could not read or write.”

Everyone was silent for a moment, appreciating the truth of Sir Sidney’s words.

“So after all this—the torture, losing Katya, losing perhaps her very mind…” Rowan looked at Adrian. “How does it end for Thérèse?” He closed his eyes for a moment then opened them again. “I
must
know, Adrian.”

“Very well. But this is where it becomes strange. Where things happen I cannot explain rationally.”

“No matter, my son. Tell us anyway. You must all tell us what you saw and what you felt. It is very important.”

“I know.” Adrian nodded and collected his thoughts. “There was a woman. A very old woman who could have been already in the cell or just arrived. I cannot say. She appeared to Thérèse just as she thought death was surely upon her.”

Sidney felt the ripple of excitement shiver up his spine. Perhaps now they would learn of the transition to vampire. “Go on.”

“She spoke strangely. Told of the approaching end of her existence, which she said had been several hundred years long. She offered Thérèse the chance for immortality and revenge on those who’d—who had done such appalling things to Katya.” He choked.

Katherine took over. “Thérèse barely heard her, but began to drift—as if death was sweeping over her at that point, I’m not sure. Her injuries were severe, her sister dead beside her. When the woman offered her eternal life it seemed unreal—like a vision from beyond the grave or something.”

Verity nodded. “I felt a stirring within Thérèse. A heat—an
anger
still alive though almost everything else that made her human was gone. Her temper was not dead, not obliterated by the Hun’s torture. So she took the old woman’s offer.”

Nick interrupted. “The woman said she was offering the gift because of Katya.”

“Katya?” Sidney looked at Nick.

“Yes.” He nodded. “She said she’d loved a man once and borne a child. I got the sense he’d repudiated both her and his child, turned them away, betrayed them in some way with foul curses. The child—a daughter, I think—had died. She’d cursed him in her turn, hated him and in return she had received this immortal boon. I don’t know from where or from whom. She didn’t say. But she’d been able to extract her revenge. Thus when she saw Thérèse and Katya—she simply passed the gift along to another woman who needed it.”

“And then she died?” Sidney knew this was no idle question. The key to Thérèse’s destruction might well be in the last few seconds of this tale.

“Immortality apparently has its limits, Father.” Adrian’s eyes were somber. “The woman disintegrated into dust. I do not know how long it took or how the change took place. I do know the woman fed from what was left of Thérèse. I can only assume she was strong enough to make Thérèse feed from her, since Thérèse eventually found herself whole and perfect once more. That part is unclear.”

“To all of you?” Sidney looked around, only to have his question answered by four nods.

“Yes, I cannot say how she was changed.” Katherine was thoughtful. “I do know she did not feel anything, although I suppose that’s not surprising given her physical weakness and how close she was to death anyway.”

“I do know one thing.” Verity sat up straighter. “It’s a story riddled with betrayal. Every time you look around, Thérèse is betrayed.”

“Betrayed by this Simon Montreaux. A lover who used her and then indicted her to serve his own greed and selfish wishes.” Adrian’s voice was harsh.

“Betrayed by her body as she responded to the two witch hunters and seduced them into caring for her.” Katherine sighed.

“They did, didn’t they?” Verity looked at her friend. “They only spent one night with her, but it was enough to bring some humanity, some affection to their hearts. She had such life and passion within her.”

Katherine nodded. “Yes, they did. I’m sure of it.”

“But then her own refusal to confess—the stubbornness to succumb to her torture—
that
betrayed her once again.” Nick sounded thoughtful.

“I don’t see it quite that way.” Adrian shook his head. “She was innocent, Nick. By that time no matter what she’d said she would have been executed.”

“Agreed.” Nick tipped his head, acknowledging Adrian’s point. “
But
…that very refusal to confess resulted in Katya’s death.”

Once more a painful silence fell until Nick swallowed harshly and continued. “Had she confessed to being a witch earlier, Katya would have been spared. For Thérèse it was yet another betrayal, one of her own doing. She was continually betrayed, Adrian. By those around her and by herself.”

“By herself most of all.” Rowan’s voice sounded hoarse. “How she must have hated herself. Her beauty, her body, her temper, her stubbornness—all the things that made her what she was.” He sighed. “They all contributed to a betrayal with results that are well-nigh unspeakable.”

Sidney had to agree. “And I would imagine that toward the end, her capacity for rational thought was fading. A human body simply cannot go through such punishment without the mind seeking refuge. She apparently remained conscious for long periods of time. Long enough to be aware of what was happening to her. Most certainly indicating a strong woman with an even stronger will to survive. But there was a cost, I’m thinking. She
did
survive, but perhaps lost her ability to think clearly, to reason—she was reduced by this abuse to little more than an animal. A creature only capable of fighting for survival but not much else.”

The conversation continued, each contributing, discussing, each recalling small details that painted a clearer picture for Sidney. He absorbed it all, encouraging them to talk of everything and anything they remembered.

He was particularly interested in the old woman, questioning them closely about her words, persuading them gently to repeat everything she’d said as accurately as they could. An idea was taking shape in his mind—something so unexpected that he knew he needed time to consider all the implications of it.

Eventually Verity yawned. “I believe dawn is approaching.”

Sidney glanced out the windows. “Yes. You all need rest.”

As one, they stood. Katherine reached for Adrian much as Verity stood close to Nick. They seemed to crave the comfort of their mates, and Sidney could not fault them for that. The humanity they all still shared would need such closeness, such love, to heal the scars left on their souls by their experiences during this eventful night.

He watched quietly as Marcus immediately went to Rowan and slipped an arm around his shoulders once more. It was both a protective and a reassuring gesture. Sidney almost envied these two men their friendship. The sensitivity to each other’s emotions, the silent understanding they shared—it was beyond Sidney’s experience and for a moment or two he wondered what it would be like to have a friend like that.

Sighing, he levered himself from his chair and reached for his cane. “Go to your rest, my friends. We have much to think about now. New questions to ask and new answers to consider. And I, for one, am very tired.”

Adrian glanced at him. “Are you all right, Father?”

Sidney smiled briefly. “Yes. I will be. I just need to think for a little. And I need some sleep.”

The others left then, silent and close they filed out of Sidney’s study, heading for the darkness that would claim them as the dawn arrived. It would bring them rest, a blessed void into which they could sink undisturbed by troubling thoughts.

They needed it.

So did Sidney, but he doubted he would get it. He’d heard too much, felt their pain and shared their anguish. The savagery of humankind still had the power to astound him, it would seem.

And he had new information now, information that was crucial to deciding on their path from this point on. Would it be enough to destroy Thérèse? He did not know. Nor was he sure the others could now pursue that goal.

How could they end an existence that had begun so innocently? How could they kill a creature that had become what she was through no fault of her own?

Sidney had no answers. Just more and more questions. He sighed and took himself off to his own room to get what rest he could.

Chapter Thirteen

To Rowan’s surprise, Marcus followed him into his bedroom and began removing his clothes.

“Marcus, I…”

Brown eyes glanced at him. “I know. I’m not here as a lover, Rowan. Not tonight.”

“Oh.” Rowan slowly undressed. “Then why…?”

“You need somebody at this moment. A friend to lie beside you. Hold you. Remind you that you’re still human.” Marcus turned back the coverlet and crawled beneath it, sliding over to make room for Rowan. “I will not let you sleep alone, my friend. Not tonight.”

Sighing, Rowan slipped onto the bed beside Marcus. “You’re right.”

“I know.”

“I don’t know how you know, but yes. Having you here, knowing you’ll be here when I wake—well, it’s a comfort I hadn’t thought of. But I appreciate nonetheless.” Rowan swallowed and settled comfortably on the pillow, realizing how much he
did
need Marcus’ companionship.

“Can you handle all this?” The question was a loaded one, posed in simple terms but complex in content.