The Maestro's Maker (9 page)

be with me for several days, in spite of my capacity for healing. At first, I could do

nothing. He allowed me to slowly struggle to my feet. My movements caused me to cry

out. I looked at him quickly, afraid he would strike me again for it. My skirts fell around

my hips and legs as I stood.

“Look at me,” Claude-Michel said sharply. I obeyed. He stood.

“First, I forbid you to go on such errands without my permission,” Claude-Michel

said. “Second, if you don’t return in what I consider a reasonable time,” he said, with a

tight smile, “the next time it will not be my
hand
on your derriere.”

I swiped at an escaping tear with shaking hands.

“I worried terribly,
cherie
,” he said, reaching for me. I cringed away, confused, but he

only brushed strands of hair from my face. “I thought perhaps you had been killed, and I

have just found you. I did not want to lose you so soon.” He lifted my chin, and made me

meet his eyes. I nodded, still confused. I hardly understood what he was saying.

“I am sorry,
Monsieur
,” I said, as my eyes filled with new tears.

“Now,” he said. “What was so important that you had to spend most of the day

accomplishing it?”

I pulled away and went to the hemp-wrapped bundle, picked it up and presented it to

him. At first, there was curiosity on his face. Then his brow furrowed as he unwrapped

it. He drew out the violin slowly, his eyes widening in surprise. A bow fell to the floor at

his feet.

“Where did you get this?” he asked.

I was afraid to answer, in case what I said earned me further punishment. “I wanted

to find one I thought suitable for a man of your standing,” I said, hurrying to pick up the

bow. “Sometimes those of noble birth find themselves in hard times and are willing to sell

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such things for little money, but sometimes it is difficult to find. I bought it from a boy in

the square. I paid too much for it, I know, but I wanted you to have it so badly…”

His thumb brushed the scroll as he stared at it. “
Merci
,” he said quietly.

That evening, Claude-Michel sent Jean out for food for himself, and enough wine for

everyone. I had told him Gunnar still appreciated whiskey and rum, and he wanted to test

his own palate.

For the first time since moving into the room, I went out on the balcony. It was a

small balcony, overlooking dirty streets. But it was better than continuing to look at the

walls. Claude-Michel came to find me, lounging against the doorframe. “My dear, sweet

Chloe,” he said. “My new violin is one of the most finely crafted instruments I have seen.

How did you find such a thing?”

I turned only enough so that I could see him. From the corner of my eye, I noticed

François watching us from the couch, trying not to be seen. “If you think I stole your

money to purchase it, I did not,” I said. “I purchased it with money I took from Gunnar. I

thought it would buy us rent or clothes, but you seemed in need of something to do with

your hands.”

“It is lovely,” Claude-Michel said. “I thank you very much,
cherie
.”

I could not answer. I did not know if I could trust the warmth in his voice.

He continued. “You saved us. Do you know this? You are a very brave girl.”

Still, I could say nothing. Without warning, Claude-Michel closed the gap between

us with inhuman speed, startling me. “Apparently, I have many strange new abilities,”

Claude-Michel said. “Are there more surprises?” He smiled down at me with boyish

glee, and for a moment, my heart was lifted. Still, I thought perhaps he was trying to keep

me friendly until he had no further use for me, or that he felt guilty for making me cry,

and my heart sank again.

“Perhaps the surprises will be for me,
Monsieur
,” I replied. “Yesterday, looking from

place to place, I was very excited to think how pleased you would be when you saw your

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new violin. I lost track of time. Time passed, and I could not find what I wanted. Then

I lost my way. Thoughts of you, and of our new freedom, kept me from becoming too

frightened. Now I wish I had never seen that terrible violin.”

“No, Chloe, no,” Claude-Michel said, and took me in his arms. I felt startled and

confused, but he did not let me escape. “It is a beautiful instrument. Simply beautiful, and

I will treasure it always.” He looked down into my eyes, and spoke with heartbreaking

gentleness. “But you must know what kind of man I am. I am passionate about all things

that are important to me. Do you understand? You have become important to me. I was

sick with terrible imaginings,
cherie
, of terrible things that could have happened to you.

It was not good that you stayed so long. For that, I am very displeased.”

My lips opened, but I did not know what to say. My heart began to flutter wildly.

“But I am very pleased that you wanted to give me a violin,” Claude-Michel said.

“You spanked me...like a child.”

“Yes,” he said. “I punish disobedience. I make no apologies.”

I nodded, but said nothing. Then Claude-Michel kissed me and I could not help but

relax in his arms as those lips covered mine. I heard François groan from the couch

and wondered what he was doing. The next moment, my fangs began to grow. I felt the

rhythms in my body shift.

I did not have to wonder for long what François was up to. When Claude-Michel

guided me to the empty bed, François did not even make an attempt to take his hand away

from his crotch. He watched me with a lecherous half-smile on his lips. But I determined

not to think about him then. Claude-Michel wanted me. That was all that mattered.

Claude-Michel murmured as he began to undress me. “I have taken only two others

as I am about to take you,” he said.

“What do you mean?” I asked, suddenly worried. Gunnar had had strange tastes in

the bedroom that were not always pleasant. I wondered if Claude-Michel did as well. And

I tried not to notice François opening his breeches. I hoped he didn’t come over to us. I

wondered what I would do if Claude-Michel wanted to share me with him.

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When I was nude and lying splayed on the mattress before him, Claude-Michel began

to reveal his beautiful body. My eyes followed the pattern of hair on his chest and the

dark line down into his breeches. When he took them off, his erection sprang forth, and I

became afraid, as though I was a virgin again.

It must have shown on my face. “Shh,” he said, nestling between my legs, letting the

warmth of his shaft press against me, kissing my face. I could see his fully extended fangs

as he spoke.
What a magnificent vampire he makes,
I thought.

The morning mist had caused a curl to form at Claude-Michel’s cheek, which gave

him a slightly boyish look. I reached up to touch it. He smiled at me and reached down

between his legs to position his erection, preparing to penetrate me.

“Many women have given themselves to me,” Claude-Michel said, moving his the

slick head of his erection over me. “And beautiful boys, also.”

“I know the reputations of nobles,
Monsieur
,” I said.

“And now, I assume I will live for a very long time, yes?”

I nodded. “Yes.”

“So I will take many, many more.” His words caused a pain in the middle of my chest.

“But not in the way I am about to take you. I take them in the pleasure of the moment.

But you are so much more than that, my dear.”

I looked into his eyes.

“You, I wish to keep,” he murmured. “Open for me, my dear, my Chloe. I will show

you pleasure like no one else ever has, or ever will again.”

I let out a long groan as the length of his erection slid inside of me. “You belong to

me now,” he whispered. “My Chloe.”

Tears slid out of my eyes as he rocked his hips gently. He filled me and stretched

me, making my body want him. I was torn between throwing my arms around him and

looking into his beautiful face. He twined his fingers in mine and held me in place,

breathing heavily as he pressed into me over and over.

While this was happening, I heard the slick, wet sounds of François pleasuring himself.

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For some reason, his soft grunts heightened my own excitement. Before long, the heat

and pressure between my legs became agonizing. Then release came, and I quivered in

Claude-Michel’s arms. At first, I did not know what had happened to me. I had never had

an orgasm before.

As I lay dazed and breathless, Claude-Michel pounded into me mercilessly, driving

my body to writhe beneath him. I whimpered with the pain and pleasure of his thrusting.

He sounded like an animal. Then he paused, and then fucked me harder still, finally

shoving his cock into me as far as it would go and letting out a long groan of release. I

could feel him throbbing inside of me.

He lowered himself to his elbows and kissed me. “My dear Chloe,” he murmured.

After several moments of this I realized François had grown quiet. I ignored him when

he got up to clean himself.

“You are a very beautiful woman, Chloe,” Claude-Michel said. “One who should be

enjoyed by someone who appreciates beauty. Not by a man like Gunnar.”

“Gunnar appreciates nothing,” I said darkly.

“You will never have to think of him again.”

“Who are the other women?” I asked suddenly.

“What other women,
cherie
?” Claude-Michel asked.

“The two other women you took like you took me.”

Claude-Michel nodded with an expression of understanding. “My wife is one,” he

said.

For some reason, the mention of Claude-Michel’s wife made François stop in the

middle of what he was doing and look at us. In spite of myself, I met his eyes. He looked

away quickly and went out on the balcony. Even then, I thought this most strange.

“
Was
one,” he corrected himself. “She is dead. The other is Jean, not a woman at all.

You are one of three I ever intended to keep forever.”

“Oh,” I said. “I am sorry about your wife.”

“Yes,” he said, and rolled over onto his back, gazing at the ceiling. He did not speak

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again for a while. Then, quietly, as if to himself, he said, “We must leave this place soon.

Our money is running out, yes?”

I nodded.

“This evening, you will remain here with Jean. Do you understand? You will not

leave this room.”

“But why—”

“François and I will go out and find additional food.”

“But you can’t. You don’t know how.”

“I know how to hunt,
cherie
, even if I have never done so as a vampire. We will bring

someone back with us and use her here.”

I grew silent. I did not like the idea that they would bring a woman here and do things

with her right under my nose. But I understood even then that a man like Claude-Michel

would not be faithful to one woman alone.

“Perhaps there will be a gentleman in need of parting with his fortunes as well,” he

said.

“When will you go out?”

“At dusk, when the desperate emerge from the safety of their homes. When alcohol

makes men’s tongues loose. We must also find a way to leave this place.”

“Leave?” I said. “But you have only just turned, and it is the first place we’ve been

safe—”

“We can not stay here,” Claude-Michel said. “We are running out of money and Jean

is not enough. And there are people I must find.”

“People?” I asked. “Who?” I remembered the conversation I had overheard about the

Gypsy woman, but I wanted to hear what he would say.

In the pause that followed, a darkness crossed Claude-Michel’s face. It caused my

scalp to prickle. I was afraid to push him too far. “The bastards who killed my wife and

daughter. I have every intention of making them pay.”

I shook my head. “No. Claude-Michel...no...”.”

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“Every night I close my eyes and dream of hurting those men. It must be done.”

“France?” I asked.

“Yes, for a time.” Claude-Michel turned to me and smiled sadly, touching my face

with the backs of his fingers. “But first we enjoy Italy, no?”

I nodded. It did not matter that Claude-Michel was a complicated man. He wanted me

with him. I would not have to fend for myself. I smiled and drew close to him, putting my

head on his chest and closing my eyes.

Before drifting off to sleep, I thought I heard François hiss the name, “Katarina.”

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That evening, as Jean combed Claude-Michel’s hair, I fussed with his coat while he

sat in the chair for the writing-desk. The coat was scarlet-and-gold, and I had bought it

for him the day I bought the violin. It fit remarkably well, considering I guessed at his

size. I didn’t have quite the same luck with François’ coat, which was a little small in the

shoulders. In addition, he didn’t like the color.

“It’s cream,” he said, examining his reflection in the wall mirror. “It fails to show off

my crown of golden locks and makes me look...yellow. Powder blue, on the other hand,

would light up my eyes nicely and give me a more...angelic visage.”

He looked over his reflection’s shoulder, at Claude-Michel sitting while Jean tied his