SV02-06. Slave to a Vampire

  Table of Contents

  Bastian

  Victoria

  Fighting for Love

  The Master

  The Final Battle

  Bastian

  Chapter 1

  Bastian stared at Catherine in the candlelight, taking her in, the way her hand was poised over the parchment, ready to write down his life story. His life. But which parts? Did he dare reveal his true nature to his woman? She did not look at him as the others so often did, not with fear, not even in the face of his anger.

  But still he hesitated to begin speaking.

  “Bastian? Is something wrong,” she asked quietly.

  Just to hear her say his name brought a smile back to his lips. “No Catherine, I am just deciding where best to begin.”

  She smiled as she lowered the quill and looked up at him a bit shyly. “Perhaps it is best to start at the beginning.”

  “Ah, the beginning,” he mused, hoping he didn’t sound too bitter. “That is not as easy as it would seem, but I need to start somewhere. You must understand, this is very difficult for me. There are very, very few souls who know the truth about my existence.”

  “Existence?”

  He cleared his throat and went to stand at the windows behind her, slowly opening the wooden shutters ‘til the night air filled the library. It was humid and made his skin sticky, but he didn’t notice. His mind was already drifting farther and farther back in time. Digging through memories that haunted his waking hours. “Yes. Now then, are you ready? So begins the tale of Bastian Lavelle.”

  The quill scratched across the parchment as Catherine wrote down his words. His lips twitched in a dark smile as he wondered just how steady her hand would remain once the words began to spill from his lips.

  “My full name is Bastian Marcel Lavelle. I was born in the ever bustling and cultured city of Paris in the year 1580. This year marked the beginning of the second part of my life. My rebirth, so to speak….”

  ***

  We were newlyweds, my Antoinette and I, enjoying a few nights in Sartander, Spain before our lives would settle in again as husband and wife, taking care of our estates and the like. Our families were both into trade and had become quite wealthy. My father was known as a rich merchant throughout most of Europe and had even begun to spread out across the great ocean.

  I too was in the business with a ship of my own already. But for the time being we were here to take in the pristine beaches and the warm azure colored waters that always seemed to beckon to my dear Antoinette.

  “Come along, my love,” she said as she tugged my hand, acting like a young schoolgirl.

  “Why are you in such a hurry?” I couldn’t help but laugh at the joy on her face and the light in her eyes. Such passion she had. One of the many reasons I had come to love this woman with everything I was.

  “The saltwater! I can smell it and look! We’re just in time for the sun to set.”

  I gripped the bottle of champagne tighter in my free hand and hurried to keep up with her as we trudged through the sand then finally made it around the rocky cliff to find a beautiful secluded bay. The waves crashed in, roaring as if a beast waited beneath the water. Ever watching. Antoinette set the wicker basket down, kicked off her shoes and lifted her skirts, rushing towards the water’s edge.

  I watched her, fascinated as her long, black hair blew in the ocean breeze. The smile on her face lit up her eyes and for a moment I wished I could stay there in that bay forever. Just watching her. But soon we would have to return home so instead, I pulled the blanket from the basket and spread it out over the sand. Once it was laid, I popped open the champagne and poured two very full glasses. It was sweet, hitting my nose as I took it in before heading to the water’s edge and giving Antoinette her glass.

  “What should we toast to,” she asked breathy, staring deep into my eyes.

  I twirled my glass, catching the setting sun’s light within the crystal then smiled. “To long life with you, my love.” We clinked then drank deeply.

  She giggled and I grinned wider, carelessly tossing my glass aside as I scooped her into my arms. “Make love to me again, my darling,” she said, barely a whisper and the fire that had only grown between us since our wedding night sparked to new heights as I held her body close to mine.

  We made our way back to the blanket and I set her down gently on her feet. She wrapped her hand around the back of my neck and pulled me down for a kiss. Her lips were soft against mine and warm. That kiss. There was so much love in it, so much fire. It is something I would never forget. My hands found her waist then her hips and the ties that held her skirts. We were all alone on the beach and the moment was too perfect. Her skin in this light, hearing her breath quicken just a little as her skirts fell away.

  I leaned in and kissed her neck, working at her corseted top before that too fell to the sand and she stood only in a sheer shift, letting me see every inch of her body.

  She whispered my name again as her hands began to undress me as well.

  I had to admit, over the last few nights we both had become quite skilled at undressing the other. Before long I was in nothing but my leather breaches and she was bare skin in my arms as we lay on the blanket, the soft sand creating our bed as the waves continued their never ending music all around us. The way her breathing quickened even more as my lips trailed down her chest to her stomach made me want to hold her like this forever.

  I had reached down to remove my breaches when suddenly her hands tightened on my shoulders and she screamed. I whipped my head around. A man stood over us. I cursed and immediately put myself between him and my wife as she scrambled to cover her naked body.

  “How dare you, sir,” I yelled. “I demand you leave at once! This is most inappropriate.”

  My chest heaved in anger as I got to my feet, keeping Antoinette from his sight. I wanted nothing more than to throttle this man, most likely a beggar. His clothes were rough, old and filled with holes. They were stained all down the front with something dark…dark like blood. I felt my nerves shake as I realized he was indeed drenched in it and when the moonlight glistened over his hands, I saw the same substance, fresh on his skin.

  “You…what have you done,” I muttered as my heartbeat quickened. I heard Antoinette get to her feet behind me and grabbed my hand. “Please, we don’t want any trouble.”

  The man’s hair was long and black, hanging over his face, but when he lifted his head to stare into my eyes, his hair parted and I gasped. Antoinette screamed behind me and we both tried to stagger away.

  “Your hearts,” he growled, opening his mouth wide. Fangs! The man had fangs! “I can hear them beating.”

  I didn’t want to show fear, but I couldn’t stop myself. This man wasn’t a man. He was a demon and as he took a step closer to us, I knew in that moment our happy life together was over. “Antoinette, run,” I whispered.

  But the demon hissed and started to laugh. “Oh no, she does not leave. I think I will sample her first. Such a rare beauty. Their blood is always so…delicious!”

  He lunged forward and I tackled him to the sand. Antoinette took off up the beach as I struggled to hold the demon down. But it was no use. He barely moved a hand and flipped me over before hoisting me up by my neck and thrashing me around. I felt my teeth rattle in my mouth and reached up to pry his hand loose, but it was like an iron cuff about me.

  “You have spoiled my dinner,” the demon snarled. “I should drain you dry for your love to find. Nothing but an empty, dead husk.”

  He lowered me, though how he could with only one hand I wasn’t certain. His mouth yawned open wide near my throat as his fangs scraped my skin. Just when I thought he was going to bite me
, he pulled back.

  “But then again, what is worse? Her finding you dead, or her returning to see that you have become what I am,” he said slowly. “A demon…a demon who will kill the woman he loves for her blood.”

  “No,” I gasped. “No! I would never hurt-” he squeezed tighter and I couldn’t breathe.

  The demon never said another word. He lowered me again and a moment later I felt an agonizing pain in my neck, a burning that spread throughout my body. I felt my blood being sucked from my body, heard him swallowing it down. I grew weaker and weaker with each passing moment until I knew I was close to death.

  But then he released me and I fell to the beach, weak as a babe, unable to do anything, but stare up at the night sky and contemplate my death. He was not to let me die in peace. I glanced over to see him bite his wrist. He let the blood drip into my open mouth and I gagged on it, trying not to swallow, but couldn’t stop myself.

  “Soon, you will know what true agony is,” the demon muttered then vanished before I’d even blinked.

  I lay there in the sand, trying to scream as fire raced through my body. Everything clenched and tightened. The pain, it was too much to bear and eventually my voice went hoarse from screaming and I blacked out…

  “Oh God, please don’t let him be dead! Wake up, please for the love of God wake up!”

  That voice. I knew that voice. I tried to move, but my body still echoed with the recent trauma and I couldn’t bear to move even an inch.

  There were other voices, male. Quite a few. My wife. They were going to hurt my wife! My eyes shot open and I was on my feet in an instant. The men yelled in fright and Antoinette screamed, scrambling back in the sand away from me.

  I glared at them all trying to understand what the noise was that filled my ears. I wanted to drown it out, but I couldn’t. It was a drumming almost…almost like a heartbeat. I could hear their hearts, all of them. The realization barely crossed my mind when my throat clenched tight with a burning need for food. Nourishment.

  Blood.

  “Antoinette,” I gasped as what happened to me became quite clear. “Run…please just run!”

  “No, I won’t leave you!”

  But the hunger was too much. I stared at her, feeling my heartbreak as the need for blood consumed me. I lunged past her and grabbed one of the men, burying my face in his neck. I felt my fangs pierce his skin, heard his screams as I drank and drank until there was nothing left. When I dropped his dead body to the sand, the other men had fled and in their arms, struggling to get back to me still was Antoinette.

  It was the last time I would ever see my wife.

  I didn’t know what else to do so I ran along the beach. I had to get away from here, very far away. I found myself at the docks and climbed aboard my ship used for trading. A few of the men on deck stared at me as I started to scream at them.

  “I order you to set sail immediately! We head across the ocean.”

  The men glanced around, a few looking concerned at the blood on my bare chest. I’d forgotten I was half naked.

  “Begging your pardon, sir, but we’re not given orders to sail,” a large bearded man said stepping forward. He was my first mate…what was his name? Everything was a jumble in my mind and I couldn’t think straight. “Are you alright, Master?”

  “Fine, but we are setting sail, right now.”

  “I can’t do that. Not unless the Captain says.”

  I turned around so fast I nearly fell over. “Captain! Captain Bouvier! Where is he?”

  I heard a door open and turned to see the Captain stagger out, half asleep or drunk I wasn’t certain and in that moment did not care one wit. “Sir? What in God’s name happened to you?”

  “Set sail immediately.”

  “Where to exactly,” he asked eyeing me suspiciously

  “Across the ocean, to the Americas, the Caribbean, I do not care where.”

  “I’m afraid we aren’t prepared for such a voyage.”

  My hands curled into fists and suddenly I stood before him. “You will do as I say,” I snapped as he flinched in surprise and I saw fear plain on his face. “Now!”

  “I can’t! We are not well supplied.”

  “That’s not good enough.” I reached out and wrapped my hands around his neck, snapping it as if it was nothing. I tossed his body over the railing and heard it splash into the water. “Now then, First Mate Dax?”

  The bearded man whose name I finally remembered gulped and stepped forward.

  “You are Captain. Make this ship ready to sail, now!”

  I waited until they started to move and Dax yelled out orders before disappearing below deck. I locked myself in a cabin and prayed for the end, huddled in a small ball in the corner, not sure of anything anymore…

  ***

  Bastian slowly fell silent, lost in the memory of that first night. Dreadful, just dreadful. His hands hand turned to fists and slowly he uncurled his fingers, grimacing at the pain from holding them so hard. As if he had just broken the Captain’s neck all over again.

  The room was silent and for a moment he thought he was alone and turned. Catherine. It all came back to him and he swallowed hard wondering what she thought of her Master now.

  “Catherine?”

  She had been staring at the pages before her, quill held in her hand and the look on her face was one he couldn’t quite read. Slowly she set the quill down then lifted her gaze to meet his. “You are not…I mean you’re a…a…”

  She couldn’t seem to get the word out and Bastian felt his heart sink. He wasn’t sure why he wanted her to react differently but he could tell what word she was trying to say and with a sigh said it for her “Monster. I am a monster.”

  “What? No, that’s not what I was going to say,” she said quickly. “You are different. I knew you were the first moment I met you.”

  “Did you know what I was then?”

  “No,” she said, “and I’m not sure I understand now, but you are not a monster, Bastian.”

  “Perhaps you will change your mind soon enough.”

  “Or perhaps you have spent too many years only seeing the worst in yourself,” she countered.

  His brow went up at her words. “You have hope for the monster.”

  “If you were truly a monster, you would not want me to write down your story now would you.”

  He had nothing to say to that, but was still confused at her lack of anxiety at him coming clean with what he was. “You just do not believe my words. You think this is a fantasy I have created.” When she didn’t reply, he smiled. “Before you leave this room tonight, you will believe me.”

  “Maybe I will,” she said and her voice wasn’t so certain this time. “Shall we continue?”

  He waited ‘til she picked up the quill then went a bit further in his story. “I spent the first day on the ship learning my boundaries. The sun burned me the first time I tried to go above deck. My staying locked in my cabin during the day only made the crew more leery of my presence on board.” He started to pace around the room as he spoke, vaguely remembering those first few nights.

  “I killed rats in the beginning, in order to stay nourished, but after a while, the rats ran out. And I had to find other means.”

  “Other means?”

  He glanced over his shoulder and nodded once, feeling the weight of those first kills fall on him again. “Eight men mysteriously died aboard that ship. The men blamed plague or some sort of sickness. They never suspected it was me.”

  “You killed them all? But why?”

  “I told you, I am a monster.”

  “No, you’re not.”

  “Don’t tell me what I am and what I’m not,” he yelled, words a guttural growl as he charged the desk, hands clasping the front of it so hard it started to crack. Catherine pressed herself back in her chair as he glared at her. “I know what I have done these past one hundred years. You do not!”

  Her hands clasped the arms of the chair and her face wa
s pale, so very pale. His lips curled into a dark smile as he circled the desk and made his way to the back of the chair. She tried to speak but the words caught in her throat. Bastian reached out a pale, cold hand for her neck, lifting her hair delicately out of the way. She needed to understand. Needed to know he spoke the truth. He leaned forward enough so she could see when he opened his mouth, showing her his fangs. She flinched at the sight.

  Slowly, he moved his mouth towards her neck and just barely let them graze across her skin. She shivered at his touch, but he did not bite her. Instead he left a gentle kiss then forced himself to take a step back.

  “We are finished for tonight. Go!”

  Catherine hurried out of the chair and rushed from the room.

  Bastian watched her skirts disappear through the doorway then sat down heavily at the desk, holding his head in his hand. A single tear slipped from his eye and dripped onto the freshly written pages of his tragic life’s story.

  Chapter 2

  Bastian did not close his eyes once during the day. He brooded in his room, wondering what Catherine thought of him now. Why had he been so harsh? He liked her, wanted her to keep writing his story. And instead he’d frightened her and made her run from him.

  So much anger had built up over the years and telling his stories was only bringing it out. Maybe this had not been such a good idea after all.

  As the sun set, he sighed and headed down to the lower floors. Several other girls walked by, keeping their heads down as they curtsied, but Bastian did not address any of them. He had eyes for only one woman and went straight to the study where she’d been working. He half expected her not to be there, diligently working on the books. But as he swung the door open, he heard the scratching of a quill and her quiet counting under her breath as she worked.

  “Catherine?”

  Her hand stopped writing, but she didn’t look up at him. “Yes, Master Lavelle?”

  “When you are finished, if you would please join me once again in the library. If you are feeling up to it that is.”