Vampire Heart

Chapter 18

The journey back to our abandoned castle felt long and painful to me. I had just separated myself from my love a third time and it hurt me three hundredfold worse. Three hundred times I had stopped in my own tracks and turned right around and back again. Doubts were eating at my resolve. Would she truly be safe with Turek only? Would he treat her well? Did he lie to me? He would stoop to anything to see me out of there anyway…
A loud familiar cawing resounded from the woods. Through the curtain of rain, I glimpsed the dark shape of my raven flying above the trees towards me. Even at a distance, his eyes were showing me flashes of alerting images throw together all at once. The bird’s conscience had been overpowered by another force, but as it drew nearer, the foreign master relinquished their grip.
I lifted up my arm and the raven settled down restlessly. I gazed deep into his intelligent eyes and he opened for me. Instantly, the events of that night unfolded in a series of visions and noise.
The bird had dutifully accompanied Irena, her maid and her guard to the dwelling of a witch—that much I knew. But no less surprised was I to recognize Erika the Hag in the person of the esteemed wisewoman. She was the force. She empowered the raven and sent him to look for—
‘Henri?’ I gasped aloud.
Kol blinked.
‘Yes, Damian.’
At that very instant, I felt his presence like a burst of flames burning in my heart. Henri de Chaverny descended from the rain in a wide dramatic plunge, sweeping his billowing cloak around me and trapping me in an embrace. Bristling up his feathers, the raven took off into the forest.
Go back to Irena, I told him at the last moment, right before Henri closed his mouth over mine.
His feelings were all-consuming, pulling me in a whirlwind. The years we had spent apart had not diminished our affection for each other, but the physical attraction I had once felt was no longer present.
Henri however seemed to want to lose himself in the throes of passion right then and there. His hands roamed down my shoulders to my waist, encircling me, pulling me against him. The avalanche of emotions that overwhelmed him was overwhelming me also. We were both empaths, our gifts were very similar, but as opposed to myself who exercised precise self-control and restraint, Henri could forecast his own feelings over the other person, making them feel what he felt and mirroring his exact sensations. Right now, I knew I was in danger of re-becoming falsely enamoured with my old friend, however tempting that could be.
I pulled back from the heat and the kiss, my body instantly cooling.
‘What is it?’ Henri murmured, not allowing me the distance.
Without warning, his hand gripped between my legs, rubbing almost roughly. I winced and drew myself one step farther back.
‘You’re not hard,’ he noted with evident curiosity.
‘I love another, Henri,’ I answered by way of evident explanation.
‘Yes and?’
I chuckled, amused at his bewilderment.
‘No, you haven’t lost your gift. Believe me I could feel it strong—and hard.’
‘Why, then?’
Henri was staring at me lost, lost as a child, lost as the brother I had lost. I shrugged and wrapped my arm around his shoulders.
‘I belong to another now. Perhaps that’s why.’
He smiled and shook out his shoulder-length copper hair.
‘I’m happy for you, Damian,’ he obliged, kissing me chastely on the cheek this time. ‘Come, tell me all about it. Who is it? Your bird found me on the way to you, said it was sent to find me by an old acquaintance of mine.’
‘Wait—what?’
His avalanche of questions left me even more at a loss. Erika the Hag had sent my bird—in turn stolen from Irena—to look for Chaverny and send him look for me?
‘You know that witch?’
We stopped on the wooden pathway and gazed at each other. Henri waved one hand nonchalantly and scoffed.
‘Yes, well. An old indiscretion.’
I shook my head not understanding.
‘How old, Henri? Where you in Bohemia before?’
He laughed and continued up the path to the castle. I dragged along more confused than ever.
‘We, Erika and I, had a steaming romance long ago. Of course it didn’t last, you know me,’ he chuckled again. ‘At that time, her name wasn’t Erika. It was Rosalie la Gitanne. She was a poor chantante dans les rues de Paris, just in front of the Notre Dame. She was beautiful and exotic, so I was naturally seduced by her gleaming green eyes. Did you see them?’
I laughed softly and shook my head once more. Then, a flash of green from the raven’s visions brought forth sudden comprehension.
‘That emerald medallion you gave me in Paris—’
‘It was hers, yes. A gift to me after our last night together.’
‘Oh, Henri, you didn’t!’
He looked straight at me, blue eyes wide and full of childish defensive misdemeanour.
‘I didn’t think I would see her again,’ he shrugged. ‘I gave the thing to you because I loved you. Also a parting gift, wasn’t it?’
I nodded reminiscently. Henri and I had spent a few good happy years in Paris, but he was always restless for more and more adventure, more exotic worlds, as was his penchant. I had had enough of the Middle East so I would not accompany him.
Henri grinned crookedly.
‘You also gave it away, didn’t you? That’s how she got a hold of me…’
‘I gave the medallion as a present to the Queen of Bohemia whom I served.’
‘And whom you are madly and eternally in love with,’ he completed.
‘And from whom it was taken,’ I pressed on, not dwelling on the details.
Of course, Henri would not relent.
‘Such is the case with love gifts, isn’t it? They never settle.’
‘Forget it, Henri. Witch or no witch, you said you were on your way here anyway. I wasn’t expecting you so soon, though. Your last letter mentioned summer.’
‘It’s almost May.’
We gazed at each other and laughed.
‘You’re right. Let’s forget the bloody thing. Rosalie has it back, she should be satisfied with that.’
‘How old is she anyway? Must be well over one hundred.’
‘Her kind is known for longevity, although her beauty must be long gone.’
‘I only saw her twice. She is a hag now, I’m sorry to say. And she hates us with a passion.’
Henri sniggered.
‘It must be because of me. A woman’s wounded ego is a terrifying creature of myth come to life.’
I scoffed and laughed.
‘Truest words ever said.’
During our deliberate slow walk up the hill to Bezdez Castle, I started recounting my last years in Bohemia. I told Henri about Alzbeta and her own wounded ego, Jaromir and Irena and the mirror, thus succeeding in drawing a perpetual expression of amazement on the Frenchman’s handsome features.
‘Never a dull moment for you, Damian,’ Henri laughed as I briefly mentioned Alzbeta’s unrequited affection for me that prevented her to leave and seek her own fortunes. ‘This is your true power, I think. You may be all quiet and in control, but you stir up passions in others that make them unable to forget you. You are unforgettable, my friend.’
I laughed out loud.
‘Let’s agree to disagree. What you call true power, I call true misfortune.’
‘Ha, if only—’
Henri stopped mid-sentence as his eyes flew up to the top of the stone staircase. Alzbeta stood there, in all her glory, waiting for us.
'Dare I believe that this dazzling apparition, standing straight and proud before us, is the Queen Alzbeta herself?’ Henri spoke softly, his eyes twinkling.
I could not prevent mine from rolling and was barely able to hide a rude chuckle. Alzbeta however looked genuinely impressed. Her previous expression of mistrust had now changed to interest, curiosity and…was that delight? Poor soul, she was desperate for attention. And when Henri stood right in front of her, bowing deeply, charming crooked grin in place, she was won. It had taken so little, it almost made me sad.
She rested her small white hand in his outstretched one and a wide luminous smiled bloomed on her face.
‘You may dare, kind sir, even though I am no longer Queen,’ she answered with honey-like sweetness in her voice.
‘A lesser detail. My Lady shall no doubt become a Queen of Hearts,’ Henry murmured, unleashing the full overwhelming power of his French charm.
His lips kissed her knuckles softly, lingering a little, eyes never leaving hers. Oh, ye gods, have mercy on us all. I cleared my voice and attempted to break the spell.
‘Alzbeta, allow me to introduce my old friend, le Marquis Henri de Chaverny,’ I said quite matter-of-factly.
Her cheeks actually blushing, Alzbeta nodded her head and curtseyed elegantly, ignoring me utterly.
‘Enchantée, Monsieur le Marquis.’
‘Au contraire. C’est moi qui est éperdument enchanté par vous. Voulliez-vous m’appeler Henri.’
‘Serait-il un plaisir, Henri,’ she murmured. ‘Et toi, tu peux m’appeler Beta. Please, do come inside.’
Alzbeta turned and welcomed us—or rather, him—inside with another elegant gesture. As if suddenly remembering my presence, she threw me a quick glance full of mirth and amazement. I answered by shaking my head resignedly. This could not end well, whatever it was.
The journey back to our abandoned castle felt long and painful to me. I had just separated myself from my love a third time and it hurt me three hundredfold worse. Three hundred times I had stopped in my own tracks and turned right around and back again. Doubts were eating at my resolve. Would she truly be safe with Turek only? Would he treat her well? Did he lie to me? He would stoop to anything to see me out of there anyway…
A loud familiar cawing resounded from the woods. Through the curtain of rain, I glimpsed the dark shape of my raven flying above the trees towards me. Even at a distance, his eyes were showing me flashes of alerting images throw together all at once. The bird’s conscience had been overpowered by another force, but as it drew nearer, the foreign master relinquished their grip.
I lifted up my arm and the raven settled down restlessly. I gazed deep into his intelligent eyes and he opened for me. Instantly, the events of that night unfolded in a series of visions and noise.
The bird had dutifully accompanied Irena, her maid and her guard to the dwelling of a witch—that much I knew. But no less surprised was I to recognize Erika the Hag in the person of the esteemed wisewoman. She was the force. She empowered the raven and sent him to look for—
‘Henri?’ I gasped aloud.
Kol blinked.
‘Yes, Damian.’
At that very instant, I felt his presence like a burst of flames burning in my heart. Henri de Chaverny descended from the rain in a wide dramatic plunge, sweeping his billowing cloak around me and trapping me in an embrace. Bristling up his feathers, the raven took off into the forest.
Go back to Irena, I told him at the last moment, right before Henri closed his mouth over mine.
His feelings were all-consuming, pulling me in a whirlwind. The years we had spent apart had not diminished our affection for each other, but the physical attraction I had once experienced was no longer present. Henri however seemed to want to lose himself in the throes of passion right then and there. His hands roamed down my shoulders to my waist, encircling me, pulling me against him. The avalanche of emotions that overwhelmed him was overwhelming me also. We were both empaths, our gifts were very similar, but as opposed to myself who exercised precise self-control and restraint, Henri could forecast his own feelings over the other person, making them feel what he felt and mirroring his exact sensations. Right now, I knew I was in danger of re-becoming falsely enamoured with my old friend, however tempting that could be.
I pulled back from the heat and the kiss, my body instantly cooling.
‘What is it?’ Henri murmured, not allowing me the distance.
Without warning, his hand gripped between my legs, rubbing almost roughly. I winced and drew myself one step farther back.
‘You’re not hard,’ he noted with evident curiosity.
‘I love another, Henri,’ I answered by way of evident explanation.
‘Yes and?’
I chuckled, amused at his bewilderment.
‘No, you haven’t lost your gift. Believe me I could feel it strong—and hard.’
‘Why, then?’
Henri was staring at me lost, lost as a child, lost as the brother I had lost. I shrugged and wrapped my arm around his shoulders.
‘I belong to another now. Perhaps that’s why.’
He smiled and shook out his shoulder-length copper hair.
‘I’m happy for you, Damian,’ he obliged, kissing me chastely on the cheek this time. ‘Come, tell me all about it. Who is it? Your bird found me on the way to you, said it was sent to find me by an old acquaintance of mine.’
‘Wait—what?’
His avalanche of questions left me even more at a loss. Erika the Hag had sent my bird—in turn stolen from Irena—to look for Chaverny and send him look for me?
‘You know that witch?’
We stopped on the wooden pathway and gazed at each other. Henri waved one hand nonchalantly and scoffed.
‘Yes, well. An old indiscretion.’
I shook my head not understanding.
‘How old, Henri? Where you in Bohemia before?’
He laughed and continued up the path to the castle. I dragged along more confused than ever.
‘We, Erika and I, had a steaming romance long ago. Of course it didn’t last, you know me,’ he chuckled again. ‘At that time, her name wasn’t Erika. It was Rosalie la Gitanne. She was a poor chantante dans les rues de Paris, just in front of the Notre Dame. She was beautiful and exotic, so I was naturally seduced by her gleaming green eyes. Did you see them?’
I laughed softly and shook my head once more. Then, a flash of green from the raven’s visions brought forth sudden comprehension.
‘That emerald medallion you gave me in Paris—’
‘It was hers, yes. A gift to me after our last night together.’
‘Oh, Henri, you didn’t!’
He looked straight at me, blue eyes wide and full of childish defensive misdemeanour.
‘I didn’t think I would see her again,’ he shrugged. ‘I gave the thing to you because I loved you. Also a parting gift, wasn’t it?’
I nodded reminiscently. Henri and I had spent a few good happy years in Paris, but he was always restless for more and more adventure, more exotic worlds, as was his penchant. I had had enough of the Middle East so I would not accompany him.
Henri grinned crookedly.
‘You also gave it away, didn’t you? That’s how she got a hold of me…’
‘I gave the medallion as a present to the Queen of Bohemia whom I served.’
‘And whom you are madly and eternally in love with,’ he completed.
‘And from whom it was taken,’ I pressed on, not dwelling on the details.
Of course, Henri would not relent.
‘Such is the case with love gifts, isn’t it? They never settle.’
‘Forget it, Henri. Witch or no witch, you said you were on your way here anyway. I wasn’t expecting you so soon, though. Your last letter mentioned summer.’
‘It’s almost May.’
We gazed at each other and laughed.
‘You’re right. Let’s forget the bloody thing. Rosalie has it back, she should be satisfied with that.’
‘How old is she anyway? Must be well over one hundred.’
‘Her kind is known for longevity, although her beauty must be long gone.’
‘I only saw her twice. She is a hag now, I’m sorry to say. And she hates us with a passion.’
Henri sniggered.
‘It must be because of me. A woman’s wounded ego is a terrifying creature of myth come to life.’
I scoffed and laughed.
‘Truest words ever said.’
During our deliberate slow walk up the hill to Bezdez Castle, I started recounting my last years in Bohemia. I told Henri about Alzbeta and her own wounded ego, Jaromir and Irena and the mirror, thus succeeding in drawing a perpetual expression of amazement on the Frenchman’s handsome features.
‘Never a dull moment for you, Damian,’ Henri laughed as I briefly mentioned Alzbeta’s unrequited affection for me that prevented her to leave and seek her own fortunes. ‘This is your true power, I think. You may be all quiet and in control, but you stir up passions in others that make them unable to forget you. You are unforgettable, my friend.’
I laughed out loud.
‘Let’s agree to disagree. What you call true power, I call true misfortune.’
‘Ha, if only—’
Henri stopped mid-sentence as his eyes flew up to the top of the stone staircase. Alzbeta stood there, in all her glory, waiting for us.
'Dare I believe that this dazzling apparition, standing straight and proud before us, is the Queen Alzbeta herself?’ Henri spoke softly, his eyes twinkling.
I could not prevent mine from rolling and was barely able to hide a rude chuckle. Alzbeta however looked genuinely impressed. Her previous expression of mistrust had now changed to interest, curiosity and…was that delight? Poor soul, she was desperate for attention. And when Henri stood right in front of her, bowing deeply, charming crooked grin in place, she was won. It had taken so little, it almost made me sad.
She rested her small white hand in his outstretched one and a wide luminous smiled bloomed on her face.
‘You may dare, kind sir, even though I am no longer Queen,’ she answered with honey-like sweetness in her voice.
‘A lesser detail. My Lady shall no doubt become a Queen of Hearts,’ Henry murmured, unleashing the full overwhelming power of his French charm.
His lips kissed her knuckles softly, lingering a little, eyes never leaving hers. Oh, ye gods, have mercy on us all. I cleared my voice and attempted to break the spell.
‘Alzbeta, allow me to introduce my old friend, le Marquis Henri de Chaverny,’ I said quite matter-of-factly.
Her cheeks actually blushing, Alzbeta nodded her head and curtseyed elegantly, ignoring me utterly.
‘Enchantée, Monsieur le Marquis.’
‘Au contraire. C’est moi qui est éperdument enchanté par vous. Voulliez-vous m’appeler Henri.’
‘Serait-il un plaisir, Henri,’ she murmured. ‘Et toi, tu peux m’appeler Beta. Please, do come inside.’
Alzbeta turned and welcomed us—or rather, him—inside with another elegant gesture. As if suddenly remembering my presence, she threw me a quick glance full of mirth and amazement. I answered by shaking my head resignedly. This could not end well, whatever it was.
Alzbeta led the way down the dark corridors. Most of the inner walls had crumbled, or were in the process of collapsing. Only the eastern side of the old castle still remained standing. We entered the library where a fire burned in the hearth.
Henri looked around the chamber with mild curiosity, but I knew him well enough to recognize when what he saw displeased his well-refined tastes. He refrained from stating his displeasure out of politeness and also because his new object of interest monopolized his whole attention.
The three of us sat before the fire. I offered Henri my winged chair, Alzbeta took the other, while I pulled myself a threadbare chintz chair.
'Did you feed?' I asked Henri directly.
'I did yes,' he answered, his eyes still twinkling from me to Alzbeta and back. 'Soon after crossing the border. Why? Where you going to offer me something?'
Alzbeta and I exchanged a worried glance.
'Yes, red wine,' she quipped, rearranging her features. 'Will you have some?'
Henri smiled, nodding.
'If you offer.'
'Of course.'
Alzbeta stood up and filled three glasses with sweet wine, the kind I liked the most. Henri followed her movements, then looked at me.
'Is she the only one?' he asked me.
Alzbeta turned to us curiously. I blinked.
'Yes, no one else. You know why, Henri.'
'Yes, of course, I know.'
'Why ask, then?'
He shrugged, receiving one glass full of glistening blood-red wine.
'Merci, ma chere,' he smiled, triggering another smile and deep blush from her.
Good grief, she was besotted. I had never seen Alzbeta like this. She seated herself on her chair and we all raised our glasses.
'To old and new friends,' Alzbeta toasted.
'Pour les meilleures amis!'
'Good friends,' I too inclined my head.
The three of us gazed at one other and drank deeply. It was not blood, but we pretended it was. I felt a connection then with Henri and Alzbeta. We were together, relatively safe. We were suddenly a coven.
Henri had always been a brother to me, sometimes even more than that. We had parted because we respected each other's needs at certain moments in time.
'So tell me, Damian, mon ami,' he began, crossing his legs and clicking his tongue. ' Comment se fait-il que tu n'as pas d'autres enfants?'
Alzbeta turned to me.
'Am I the only one?'
I gazed at her for a long time and nodded slowly.
'But...I thought--'
She gestured from me to Henri and back.
'Oh non, cherie. Damian isn't the one who turned me. Although sometimes I wish it would have been him...'
Henri looked down, his beautiful alabaster face becoming even paler, the red waves of his hair dark in the semi-obscurity. I knew the trauma of how he had been made a vampire. I knew how much he had struggled in his first years as a newborn, scared and alone, much as I had been. This was one of the many things that bonded us.
'How did the two of you meet, if I may ask?' Alzbeta said softly, already re-filling our glasses. 'Or is it too painful?'
Henri scoffed and clinked his glass to hers.
'It's in the past. It doesn't bother me anymore. Damian, you tell the story, your way of concentrating things is superior to my meaningless chatter.'
I grinned and stretched my legs upon a stool closer to the fire.
'It was a century ago, if memory serves.'
'1538, to be exact,' Henri added, sipping his wine.
'I was in Paris, having just returned from Venice.-+
'Having just escaped Venice.'
I nodded.
'Quite so. And I met Henri one night, as I walked the streets in search for blood. I was trying to change from human to animal, but I was failing.
'I sensed fresh blood someone else had spilled and followed the trail. It led me to the Catacombs. There, an angry crowd of--I cannot even name them vampires--'
'Monsters. Devils. Strigoi, you may call them that,' Henri added again, venom in his voice.
'Yes, all of the above. They were holding a newborn vampire, slashing his wrists, piercing him with their poisonous teeth. He was losing his stregth and they were closing the circle around him, carrying burning torches.'
'There had been a trial,' Henri recounted, his eyes gazing unblinkingly at the fire in the hearth. 'I was found guilty of inssurrection and sentenced to death.'
'Found guilty by whom?' Alzbeta asked, visibly troubled.
'The vampire rulers of the Parisian coven,' I answered. 'They had offered me an alliance, but I was not interested in belonging to a coven.'
'You had just escaped one,' Henri chuckled.
Alzbeta kept staring at me nonplussed. She still did not many things about my past.
'Yes. But then I saw those creatures...and I saw Henri brought down. I knew I had to do something.'
I stopped abruptly. The visions of my rescuing Henri were reminiscent of my own torture long before. And I had been a mortal, but no one had come to save me then.
'So you killed the monsters?' Alzbeta asked eagerly.
I scoffed.
'No, of course not. They were at least one hundred. I scattered them away, made a path and took Henri out of their claws. When they saw me fly away, they cowered back inside the Catacombs led the way down the dark corridors. Most of the inner walls had crumbled, or were in the process of collapsing. Only the eastern side of the old castle still remained standing. We entered the library where a fire burned in the hearth.
Henri looked around the chamber with mild curiosity, but I knew him well enough to recognize when what he saw displeased his well-refined tastes. He refrained from stating his displeasure out of politeness and also because his new object of interest monopolized his whole attention.
The three of us sat before the fire. I offered Henri my winged chair, Alzbeta took the other, while I pulled myself a threadbare chintz chair.
'Did you feed?' I asked Henri directly.
'I did yes,' he answered, his eyes still twinkling from me to Alzbeta and back. 'Soon after crossing the border. Why? Where you going to offer me something?'
Alzbeta and I exchanged a worried glance.
'Yes, red wine,' she quipped, rearranging her features. 'Will you have some?'
Henri smiled, nodding.
'If you offer.'
'Of course.'
Alzbeta stood up and filled three glasses with sweet wine, the kind I liked the most. Henri followed her movements, then looked at me.
'Is she the only one?' he asked me.
Alzbeta turned to us curiously. I blinked.
'Yes, no one else. You know why, Henri.'
'Yes, of course, I know.'
'Why ask, then?'
He shrugged, receiving one glass full of glistening blood-red wine.
'Merci, ma chere,' he smiled, triggering another smile and deep blush from her.
Good grief, she was besotted. I had never seen Alzbeta like this. She seated herself on her chair and we all raised our glasses.
'To old and new friends,' Alzbeta toasted.
'Pour les meilleures amis!'
'Good friends,' I too inclined my head.
The three of us gazed at one other and drank deeply. It was not blood, but we pretended it was. I felt a connection then with Henri and Alzbeta. We were together, relatively safe. We were suddenly a coven.
Henri had always been a brother to me, sometimes even more than that. We had parted because we respected each other's needs at certain moments in time.
'So tell me, Damian, mon ami,' he began, crossing his legs and clicking his tongue. ' Comment se fait-il que tu n'as pas d'autres enfants?'
Alzbeta turned to me.
'Am I the only one?'
I gazed at her for a long time and nodded slowly.
'But...I thought--'
She gestured from me to Henri and back.
'Oh non, cherie. Damian isn't the one who turned me. Although sometimes I wish it would have been him...'
Henri looked down, his beautiful alabaster face becoming even paler, the red waves of his hair dark in the semi-obscurity. I knew the trauma of how he had been made a vampire. I knew how much he had struggled in his first years as a newborn, scared and alone, much as I had been. This was one of the many things that bonded us.
'How did the two of you meet, if I may ask?' Alzbeta said softly, already re-filling our glasses. 'Or is it too painful?'
Henri scoffed and clinked his glass to hers.
'It's in the past. Damian, you tell the story, your way of concentrating things is superior to my meaningless chatter.'
I grinned and stretched my legs upon a stool closer to the fire.
'It was a century ago, if memory serves.'
'1538, to be exact,' Henri added, sipping his wine.
'I was in Paris, having just returned from Venice--'
'Having just escaped Venice.'
I nodded.
'Quite so. And I met Henri one night, as I walked the streets in search for blood. I was trying to change from human to animal, but I was failing.
'I sensed fresh blood someone else had spilled and followed the trail. It led me to the Catacombs. There, an angry crowd of--I cannot even name them vampires--'
'Monsters. Devils. Strigoi, you may call them that,' Henri added again, venom in his voice.
'Yes, all of the above. They were holding a newborn vampire, slashing his wrists, piercing him with their poisonous teeth. He was losing his stregth and they were closing the circle around him, carrying burning torches.'
'There had been a trial,' Henri recounted, his eyes gazing unblinkingly at the fire in the hearth. 'I was found guilty of insurrection and sentenced to death.'
'Found guilty by whom?' Alzbeta asked, visibly troubled.
'The vampire rulers of the Parisian coven,' I answered. 'They had offered me an alliance, but I was not interested in belonging to a coven.'
'You had just escaped one,' Henri chuckled.
Alzbeta kept staring at me nonplussed. She still did not know many things about my past.
'Yes. But then I saw those creatures...and I saw Henri brought down. I knew I had to do something.'
I stopped abruptly. The visions of my rescuing Henri were reminiscent of my own torture long before. I had been a mortal, but no one had come to save me then.
'So you killed the monsters?' Alzbeta asked eagerly.
I scoffed.
'No, of course not. They were at least one hundred. I scattered them away, made a path and took Henri out of their claws. When they saw me fly away, they cowered back inside the Catacombs like vermin. Poor souls.'
'What souls! They didn't have such a thing, Damian,' Henri hissed full of spite.
I looked at him and shook my head.
'They had been mortal men and women like us once, Henri. They had been gathered and turned to serve only one purpose. They were numbers, nothing more. They were kept hungry, dirty, reduced to madness. They no longer had a conscience. They should be pitied.'
'I would have been killed were it not for you.'
'At their hands, but not by them. The Catacomb leaders did that to you.'
'I have yet to take my revenge, but I will do so one day.'
'As you should,' Alzbeta cut in, her fingers fidgeting with her dress.
'So then, I took Henri to my villa near Versailles. I helped him come back to himself and heal, and we have been friends ever since,' I finished with a sigh.
Henri gazed at me and a meaningful grin lifted the corners of his smooth lips. I knew what he was thinking, but it would not be a good idea to bring it up when Alzbeta's emotions were yet so raw. I blinked slowly and shook my head for a fraction, and he understood.
Alzbeta had finished her wine and cleared her voice softly, throwing me a glance. I followed suite immediately.
‘Henri, you should know, we do not feed on humans within Bohemian borders,’ I said directly. ‘If you wish to stay with us, which you know would make me very happy, you will have to comply to the rule.’
Henri made a face and glared at me.
‘What, and feed on the beasts of the forest?’
‘Exactly.’
Alzbeta chuckled indulgently.
‘I didn’t enjoy it at first either,’ she said, touching his arm consolingly, ‘but Damian has a strong means of persuasion, as I’m sure you know.’
Henri grinned at her crookedly.
‘Oh I do indeed. Our friend here is a true force to be reckoned with. When he wants to.’
‘Henri,’ I warned him quietly.
He gestured for me to calm down and his hand reached out for Alzbeta’s. She obliged right away.
‘But since he says he wishes for me to stay, of course I will do as I’m told,’ he muttered, shuddering at the thought of animal blood no doubt. ‘I can only hope I won’t be intruding in any way.’
‘Not at all,’ Alzbeta quipped, her voice high with nerves. ‘We are happy for the company, aren’t we, Damian?’
I smiled and emptied the last contents of my glass.
‘Yes. I certainly am happy to see you again, Henri,’ I told him truthfully.
He stood up from his chair and came to me. He gazed at me long and hard, baring himself to me.
‘Henri--’
‘Hush. For once, listen to me, Damian.’
He ran his fingers through the length of my hair, smoothing the ends down my shoulders. From the corner of my eye, I glimpsed Alzbeta staring at the two of us bewildered. Henri ignored her this time and took my face in his palms, eyes burning.
‘I came to you because I missed you and because I love you, despite everything,’ he murmured.
‘Let me guess. He rejected you too,’ Alzbeta muttered to one side, evidently annoyed.
‘True affection can’t be forced, ma chère,’ Henri murmured again, eyes still on mine.
Then his hand travelled down my neck to my chest, stopping over my heart.
‘Our Damian loves us both. Just not the way we would want him to.’
She strode beside us and put her hand on my shoulder.
‘But that doesn’t mean we love him less,’ Alzbeta whispered.
My eyes travelled from her to him exasperated.
‘No, it doesn’t. He’ll simply make us want him even more,’ Henri whispered, and kissed my lips very softly.
I blinked at him surprised.
‘You didn’t do it just now,’ I murmured. ‘You didn’t project over me.’
Henri grinned all-knowingly standing up straight and stepping backwards.
‘I didn’t need to. I know how you feel already.’
Then, he turned to Alzbeta and held out his hand once more.
‘Allez, viens, ma chère. Viens me montrer vos lieux de chasse.’
‘Gladly,’ she chuckled, throwing her cloak over herself. ‘Damian, be good while we’re gone, will you? No more Karlstejn escapades.’
I scoffed and nodded.
‘I promise. Don’t be long.’
I watched them leave with a strange pang. I had been alone a long time in the past and did not mind it. But now I had grown used to having Alzbeta always by my side. Henri’s addition to our small coven was as much a pleasure as a challenge. Still, it felt good knowing him here. He would help with Alzbeta; he was most certainly a welcome distraction both for her and for me.
Irena needed to marry, have children and rule a Kingdom. I was bound to remain here and be her guardian in the shadows. In order to do that, I needed to separate myself emotionally from her—quite a difficult thing to do, since we had shared blood. Henri could help keep my feelings in control. Or augment them at his own pleasure.
Henri was volatile, I was well aware. He was yet young, no more than a hundred and fifty years since he had been turned. He relied on human blood exclusively. I heavily doubted he would be able to change his diet for a rule I had imposed. Then again, Alzbeta had abide by it easily, because of guilt or because of me, it was irrelevant. Henri would be a challenge, but a welcome one.
I lifted my eyes to the crumbling walls and threadbare carpets. Perhaps it was time for a change of scenery. In the centuries past, I had gathered enough wealth to be able to live in luxury for many centuries more. I had never covered treasures, and the comforts of my chamber at Karlstejn had been more than enough. But I knew neither Alzbeta nor Henri liked it here. She had bore it as a form of penance for my sake, but if I wanted Henri to stay and help, I would have to find other more comfortable accommodations. And I knew just the place.
I rose from my chair and strode to the narrow window. It was late afternoon already and the rain did not seem to relent. The hills and forest were covered in thick fog, heavy clouds hanging low. What was Irena doing? She had stood in the cold rain for a some time. What if she got ill?
No, I would not go back. I had promised.