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Chapter Fourteen

Laurent

"Your lady, she wears pants," the olive-skinned man across the table commented offhandedly. I pursed my lips together, sizing up his strong build, dark hair, and brilliant red eyes.

"Yes, she does," James said, not bothering to indicate I was not his lady. He turned to look at me, then to his contact. "This is Victoria, my partner in crime," he said, nodding to me and then his friend. "Victoria, this is Laurent, an acquaintance of mine from several years back."

I nodded once to the fair-skinned comrade. James folded and unfolded his hands on the wooden table. We were all sitting around the small kitchen table in an old, abandoned home in the French countryside.

"Where did you get the home," I asked conversationally. I did not like the man before me; something was off about him. His eyes were too honest, as if he were compelling me to trust him. James seemed completely at ease chatting up his old friend. I was not sure if 'friend' was the right word, but it did the sentiment justice. We did not have friends in our world. Our only enemies were our own kind, and the humans were food. There were no friends, just enemies and meals. Had we the need to sleep, I might have felt wary sleeping next to James, allowing my defenses to lower.

"The inhabitants gave it to me many years ago," he said softly, his French accent articulating the English words lightly. He was smiling good-naturedly, the twinkle in his eyes betraying a hidden meaning. James rolled his eyes and turned to me.

"What he means is, the couple living here became his dinner, and no human would dare touch the place afterward. They thought it was haunted." My eyes widened slightly, but in surprise, not horror. The murder of innocents did not bother me any longer. I did not believe there were any innocents. Everyone was a sinner in one way or another.

"I do business here, now," the strange man explained, folding and refolding his hands on the tabletop, the genuine smile on his lips still. "And I hear you are looking for a vampire, am I right, Miss?"

The outdated use of my old honorific caught my attention and I looked to him intently. I glanced to James once and he inclined his head once in Laurent's direction. I flashed my gaze back to the man and nodded once.

James and I had been tracking the bastard across countries for years. As soon as we would get close, he would disappear again. James and I had backtracked to my old home in hopes of retrieving his scent. I had the smell forever in my mind, James did not. I could not enter the home after what had happened there, but James had entered. He had walked out, holding a handful of pine wood from the wall. He had thrust it to me and I had inhaled – the scent had still lingered. I did not doubt he had taken the handful from the wall the monster had broken through with Charles' body.

With James knowing the scent, tracking had become easier. It was a gift to him. He was able to sense when his prey was near, where he was, what he was feeling. He was often able to anticipate his next movement. The vampire we tracked, however, was clever, and had dragged us all the way to Italy. We had been closing in when the cloaked forms of the vampire militia closed in on us. The prey had let slip that we had come to overthrow them and were an immediate threat to be eliminated with no questions. With some clever thinking, I had worked our way out of the predicament, but the target was long gone. We had no inkling of his whereabouts since. That was twenty-three years, one hundred forty-two days, seven hours and six minutes ago. I knew. I was counting. I wanted that man's head It was an entirely different kind of bloodlust.

While tracking, James had picked up information about the man. He had been a Viscount in England, originally, not too far from where I had lived, incidentally. He had been turned two hundred years ago, and was not the wild, uncontrolled beast I had originally thought him to be. He had been traveling, and had gone several weeks without a meal. He had been wild with hunger when we had been the unfortunate couple to fall in his path. Part of me wished he was the uncontrolled monster I had thought – he would not have been so clever in evasion if this were so.

"The Viscount of Duncanny is in town," Laurent said smoothly, touching his fingertips together lightly. "And he has no idea that you are, too," he added, glancing to James.

James closed his eyes and bowed his head for a moment. I watched, knowing he was reaching out, trying to find the Viscount's scent. His head snapped up suddenly.

"What the devil is he doing at the nunnery?"

I startled. A nunnery? I glanced to Laurent as well, as if he might have the answer. Laurent only chuckled dryly and nodded his head. His face was stressed.

"Yes, he seems to like the virgins. I rather wish you find the bastard and finish him; he's causing quite a bit of trouble. I'd just as soon not have them come down on us," he said wryly. I shuddered at the pronoun; them clearly referred to the dark-cloaked forms we had just barely escaped from. Evidently, they had decided our cowardly retreat was not indicative of a threat, and they did not bother to pursue. However, I was not willing to chance that another encounter with them would be peaceful.

James tilted his head in my direction.

"This is your show, sweetheart," he said. "Would you like to go? I shall help you find him, but you may have him," he smiled. He believed I wanted revenge for my death, and I allowed the misunderstanding to exist. It was much easier than explaining I was more interested in the wrongful death of my love.

"Let us go," I said with the sweet feeling of violence starting to fill me. I loved the feeling that rushed over me before an attack. The quick burst of anticipation from a kill was unparalleled. This kill would be the crown of any other and I could barely contain my excitement.

"We must be swift. As soon as we enter the building, he will know we are upon him. If we catch him in the middle of a meal, he will turn upon us like a lioness guarding her kill from another. Are you prepared?"

I nodded once and James rose to his feet. I followed suit, pushing my hand into my pants pocket, my fingertips touching the riverstone and blood red piece of glass inside. Soon, my love, I thought. Soon.

"Let me come," Laurent said, standing up. "Perhaps I may be of assistance. He knows me. He may not run if I am with you."

James paused, and I watched as he sized the man up. I wished for James to look my way, so that I might indicate with my eyes that I did not think it a good idea.

"Alright," James conceded. I bit back a curse. I would just have to keep my guard up around the stranger. "Shall we?" He nodded once to me before gesturing for Laurent to lead the way. The stranger hesitated briefly, as if uncomfortable being in front before he turned and led the way out the door.

It was the perfect hour – just after sunset. Enough light lingered on the streets to allow any humans out and about to see us and steer clear of our path, but it was dark enough we could move quickly and only leave them wondering at what they thought they saw. We covered the ground from Laurent's home to the nunnery. The scent of sweet blood bloomed in the air, and we all swayed a moment.

Each of us inhaled deeply and took a second to orient ourselves. Laurent put his hand on the door and turned to check that both James and I were in control of our thirst before we proceeded. When we were, he threw the door open.

Without a second's hesitation, James and I threw ourselves into the room. The screams erupted when we found ourselves in the middle of a prayer service. On any other day, we might have feasted, but we had eyes only for one man and he had no blood to spill.

We flew past the women fallen to their knees in prayer, taking down another door. Our cadence was perfect. We did not have to look to each other or signal for an attack. James was with me as I was with him. I sensed him, I knew him, and he, I. We could anticipate the other's move and write the choreography as we danced the dance.

A long tunnel yielded another door, and when those hinges gave way with little complaint, we found what we were looking for. The Viscount dropped the dead woman he was holding, the remaining bits of her blood pooling onto the floor. He stared at me for a moment – and I him. It was the first time I had stood face to face with Charles' killer since that night.

Abruptly, he turned toward a door to flee – but James was already standing there. I took up my stance in front of the door we had already entered as the Viscount looked back to me, trying to decide which of us was a safer bet. I prayed he picked me.

"Well, well, Viscount, you seem to be doing well for yourself," James murmured conversationally. The Viscount snorted once, looking between the two of us, knowing full-well we had not broken into a nunnery to converse with him. We had been tracking him across two continents – and it had not been to invite him to tea.

He feigned a movement but I did not budge from my place. Every instinct in me demanded I hurl myself at the monster before me and rip out his throat. The red glass in my pocket practically burned against my leg. I knew something, though; good things were worth waiting for. I had waited this long, I could wait a bit longer. If I were premature in my movements, it was possible he could escape.

The Viscount studied me for a moment, and he must have seen something in me. Either my murderous thoughts were visible in my eyes, or he simply guessed that I had come for him, but he chose the physically stronger of the two of us and abruptly bolted toward the door James was blocking.

"Viscount!"

The vampire stalled and held his ground, turning to look past me to Laurent.

"Laurent! What are you doing here?"

The casual acquaintance of James strolled on into the room leisurely.

"We just came by to chat."

That moment of hesitation was all I needed. The momentary distraction. One moment, I was blocking the doorway, the next I felt the Viscount's body crash to the floor beneath mine. A howl of agony roared up from his form as I slammed my hand into his shoulder, retching the thing from its socket. I pummeled his chest with blows, making sure I crushed every rib in his body.

He was not moving, so I leaned down close to his face.

"You took something from me," I whispered. "Something important. Something that only the lack of it has kept me going in this hellish body."

When he whimpered, I bit down onto his shoulder, tearing his arm completely off. He screamed again, and I grew tired with our silly game. His yells were beginning to irritate me, so I silenced him with one smooth move of my arm.

I stood up, still holding his head in my hands. I watched in horror as his dismembered hand twitched slightly.

"James!"

"I know, this is why we burn it, too," he said softly. He picked up the one-armed torso and carried it outside. Any conscious nun fainted at the sight of the macabre parade – I followed James with the head and Laurent trailed with the missing arm.

Outside we set up the bonfire. James and Laurent had put their pieces inside the flames already, but I was reluctant to let go of the head. I held it up, staring into his empty eyes. The monster that had changed everything was dead.

Rest easy, my love.

James seemed to understand – we sat around the fire, watching it burn, but neither man bothered to urge me to relinquish the head. They knew I would when I was ready.

I memorized every contortion of his face, every twist of agony. I was responsible for it. I had brought him to a painful end. Finally, I tossed the head into the flames, and watched the violet plumes rise up. It had been so swift. I head spent years fantasizing about this moment when I would stand and he would be dead. I had played out hundreds of scenarios, each epic and heroic. In a way, the shortness of our long mission seemed anti-climactic.

Half my instinct found it fitting for me to walk into the fire after the head, and destroy myself in a blaze. What was left for me to do now? I had avenged Charles' death, but where did that leave me?

"How do you feel, Victoria?" Laurent's voice moved smoothly across the distance between us, and I glanced to his calm face. I thought about the question long and hard. How did I feel?

"I feel..." I trailed off, considering the question carefully. "...good," I finished, seemingly only surprising myself. James and Laurent only nodded once as I returned my attention to myself. I did feel good. I felt like I had done something worthwhile. The thrill of the kill was still lingering, as well. I could always kill myself later – it did not have to be now.

The boys were laughing about something one of them had said when they recaptured my attention. I glanced to their faces across the fire. James – the spitting image of my Charles in many ways, and yet in many more he was not. I had come to love him with the same intensity that I loved Charles, but it was a very different love. No two loves were really ever quite the same. How could they be when the people being loved were very different? Had I found the Viscount on my own and never met James, I was nearly certain I would have thrown myself into the fire after him. There would have been nothing left for me at that point. But now there was James. The dark look he suddenly passed me across the warm glow of the flames told me that he wanted just a little bit more from me.

My body tingled to life. It had been, quite literally, decades since I had last been intimate. It was not until his dark, desiring look had flashed across the space between us and reawakened my own personal fire inside of me that I realized my cold, dead body was capable of such passion still. To quiet the new round of emotions, I turned my attention on Laurent.

"How did you come to meet James?" The dark-haired man laughed naturally.

"We ended up tracking the same man and decided to join forces. We discovered a mutual talent within each other. James has a very keen instinct for tracking – I had had a hard time hunting the man down."

"Laurent is very good with talking to people, soothing them. He incubates trust. I had gotten close to the target several times, but he had managed to slip away. Between the two of us, Laurent was able to smooth-talk the man down and keep him from running, but I was able to find him in the first place," James explained, his elbows perched on his knees as he sat on a log. It was a gruesome sort of campfire scene – the lingering ashes of our kill were still flitting into the air.

"It almost went according to plan," Laurent said absentmindedly. "That was... a decade ago?"

"Just about," James conceded, grumbling. "Only one to ever get away," he muttered.

"But I thought you got the target," I asked, leaning forward toward them.

"Oh we did," Laurent said, glancing to James' sulking frame. "But he created a newborn right before we closed in on him. He saved her from us. He knew we were looking to kill her too, so he changed her. We never found her. Was that at that old asylum?" Laurent turned to look at James to see him nod. Laurent turned back and nodded to me. "It was quite the disaster. We sure could have used your talent for slipping out of tight situations."

I just shrugged nonchalantly. I still did not buy into the evasion talent that Laurent had been convinced I possessed. I was no more keen nor any stealthier than any other. Right?

"Victoria," James began, touching his fingertips together lightly. I focused my attention on him. "I was thinking about asking Laurent to travel with us," he said slowly. My eyes shifted from James to Laurent. "I think he would be very useful to our group. We are very strong together, my dear, do not misunderstand me, but with that strength comes raw power. Laurent has a gift with words. He is controlled and can speak to vampires and humans alike, gain the trust of others and talk his way into and out of situations. While we are strong, we lack an open communications line. What do you think?"

I considered it for a moment. James was right; Laurent did have a way with words that James and I both dearly lacked. And James was right in that we could most definitely use someone like Laurent. Part of me was selfish and wanted James to myself every minute of the time. The emotional response startled me. I had been so consumed with following the Viscount, I had not realized I had been falling for James the entire time.

The other part of me was leery; yes, Laurent could be useful because he could persuade people to trust him – how did we know he was not doing the same to us? I decided the benefits outweighed the consequences.

"I think you are right," I said, then turned to Laurent. "Welcome," I said, nodding once. Laurent smiled lightly and nodded his head to each of us.

"Thank you," he said. "I think we can truly benefit each other." I nodded. Perhaps he was right. I had little to lose anyway. The Viscount was dead. If Laurent turned traitor, perhaps he would do me a favor by killing me.

I glanced back to James and caught him looking at me with the same roguish dark look. Had I a heart, it would have fluttered. Had I blood, I would have blushed. Instead, I could only return his hypnotizing stare across the fire. Without taking his eyes from me, he slowly rose to his feet, his muscled form rippling as he did so. Every line, every contour stood out in sharp relief against the fire. His muscles twisted with each step, and his arm flexed as he extended his hand to me.

Helpless like the maiden I had been eons ago, I numbly placed my hand in his, allowing his seductive stare to work its black magic on my body. I slowly stood to stand beside him, and his eyes draped over my body shamelessly.

"Now," he whispered huskily. "Let's get you out of those pants." My gaze flitted over his shoulder toward Laurent and found the man had wisely vacated the area. "Do not worry for him," James murmured, catching my chin between his fingers. "He will be back later."

"James," I murmured softly, feeling a little unsure of myself for the first time in an extremely long while.

"Shh." His finger touched my lip. "Don't speak." He gave me a knowing look as his hands captured my body.

That night I had righted a horrible wrong in the world – I had taken revenge for Charles' murder. That night, I gave myself to James. Charles was dead, I could never bring him back. I had avenged his death. He was resting in peace. It was now time for me to live again.