I apologize for the delay! I've been very busy lately with the end of the year just around the corner.

Thank you for the wonderful reviews everybody!

Chapter 20: Seduction

Meliah pushed Beaux gruffly aside before sliding unto her rear on the floor. The blood that had been disastrously obscuring the carcass of her dead parents dripped unto her silken skirts until the cloth was mottled with the crimson liquid. Meliah's eyes widened and out some brief epidemic of insanity, her hands sought the blood. She dipped and weaved her fingers, and soon they were bejeweled with the burning scarlet.

Horrified, Beaux tried to pull her away as she desperately clamored unto the corpses. Even when an arm had detached itself from the bodies, Meliah seemed unfazed. Beaux finally managed to restrain her before she threw herself over the swarming heap of insects and rotting flesh. When he pushed her into the hallway, she leaned heavily against the white walls.

He watched her morosely as her face flushed and palled rapidly with her ragged breaths. Why was his luck always so morbid?

Beaux bent over and pulled Meliah unto her feet. Her eyes were misty and lost somewhere in a region beyond reality. She had surrendered her will and energy, sliding unsteadily beneath Beaux's rigid fingers. Still, he managed to call the stable boy from the window.

"Yes sir?" the young boy answered. His hazel eyes suspiciously scrutinized Beaux's shining, anxious face, but otherwise he did not question the master's order to fetch a ride.

Beaux gently coaxed Meliah into the carriage and gave the boy a fistful of cash to keep his mouth shut. The boy's attention was immediately siphoned off by the money, and he did not give Meliah's disheveled appearance another glance. Not even the blood was enough to distract him.

The following fifteen minutes was pure torture. Meliah was dipping in and out of consciousness. Beaux watched nervously as she suddenly sat up and stared out the window, lips parted and eyes inquisitive. "That…that," she murmured disjointedly as though she was on the verge of remembering something significant. Next minute, she slumped back into the cushy brown seat, her purplish eyelids closing lethargically.

"Come now," Beaux said softly as he helped Meliah step unto pavement of the street in front of his chateau. "We're only steps away. Come."

Meliah obeyed him like a puppet. She grasped his wrists tightly and refused to let go.

"What am I going to do?" Beaux moaned when he saw Vincent skulking behind the entrance. "Whatever you said was going to happen – already happened! Oh Lord, what am going to do?"

Vincent, embarrassed that he had been detected so easily, helped Beaux pry Meliah's thin fingers from his coat. He mildly noted the blood and grim embedded in Meliah's dress.

"She looks awful," Vincent said, wrinkling his nose in disgust, "Get her into something clean will you?"

"Can you send them away?" Beaux asked, gesturing toward the kitchen, "We don't need witnesses."

"I've already sent the help home."

"Thank you," Beaux replied tersely, and then more gently to Meliah, "Upstairs."

His room was still rumpled and disorganized since Meliah's last visit, but with the recent turn of events, Beaux figured that a messy room was the least of his worries. Meliah's hand was still clenched like a fist over his arm, but he was able to get her seated and still.

"Don't you want to change?" Beaux asked patiently. "You have to let go of my arm, if but for a moment. Let me get you something. Please."

Meliah's eyes were blank and demonstrated little comprehension, but she must have understood for she lessened her stranglehold. Beaux managed to free himself and scurry to the armoire. He brought back a soft night shift that could serve as a temporary dress.

Beaux eased Meliah out of her pink dress. Underneath she wore a white skirt – that was too translucent to shroud her legs – and a tight corset – that was accentuating her figure – once again, too much. Had the circumstances been different, he would have escaped the room with shame flaming his face. Yet this was not a normal situation. He had a perfect alibi for being alone…with a girl…in her undergarments…

Meliah was looking at the dimly lit gas lamp at the corner of the room and completely unaware of Beaux's inner panic. He bit his tongue to distract himself from the soft glow of her skin in the flickering light. She tilted her head to the side and glanced at the sun setting over the heads of the buildings in the city around them. With a fragile movement, she reached out as if to touch the burning star. He destroyed his craving to pull her hand toward him.

She needs to change, Beaux tried to convince himself, and she's out of her mind. I need to help.

But when he moved closer, his hands were shaking too severely. His trembling limbs futilely tugged at the top of her corset. When he felt them loosen, he could not continue. Gasping with what he would only admit to be anxiety, Beaux stood up abruptly.

"Here," Beaux choked as he roughly handed the girl his long shift. "Change."

He did not stay to gauge her reaction. Beaux held his breath until he heard the loud slam of the door behind him. In an attempt to distance himself from her mentally, Beaux cantered to the parlor downstairs and fell unto the sofa – sickened by his own emotions.

"You look pretty awful too," Vincent said. He was sitting on an armchair at the other end of the room, gazing at the black sky. "Get something to eat. It's dark now."

Beaux was about to argue, but he hoped that a good feeding would distract his heart from anything else – particularly the dark-eyed girl sitting in his room.

"How long are you planning to stay here?" Beaux asked acidly.

"Aw, Beaux, don't be that way."

"For God's sake, what were you expecting? Me to welcome you here with open arms? I haven't forgotten anything Vincent. You are not forgiven," Beaux hissed.

Now it was Vincent's turn to be angry. "Stop acting like a child Beaux, and maybe I'll stop treating you like one!"

"How am I supposed to act?! Meliah has killed people! Her parents! Andante! God knows what else she has done!"

Vincent's response was matter-of-fact, "I doubt you cleaned up after her. A pile of dead bodies is bound to get some attention."

Beaux's guilty expression confirmed Vincent's assumption. "I was a bit preoccupied!" Beaux snapped.

"I'll handle it," Vincent said softly. He pulled a dark violet ribbon from his pocket and tied his golden hair back. "Go get something to eat."

Beaux's infuriated retort died in his throat. He could not remember why he was so upset with Vincent in the first place. Yes, up until very recently, Beaux had been under the illusion that Vincent had killed his mother out of spite. But now, the man was acting responsible. Beaux had always remembered his father to be a capricious, unpredictable vampire with a toxic attitude. The new Vincent was startling. Maybe, he too was frightened – frightened of Beaux.

Before Beaux could say anything else, Vincent left the house and disappeared at the corner of the street.

With half a mind to return upstairs, Beaux quickly stepped through the door and into the cold air of the night.

He quickly stalked a slight figure into an alleyway. The girl turned around when she caught sight of Beaux's pitch shadow. Beaux stopped in his tracks when he recognized the face. No, he had never met her before, but that face! The young girl had the same features – the dark glimmering eyes, the dainty nose, the doll lips.

For the first time in his life, Beaux hesitated before a potential prey. And his slip proved to be a grave one. She opened her red mouth and screamed upon seeing his amazingly sharp canines. Beaux watched her shriek and cry in wonder and self-hatred. Is this how Meliah would act if she knew what he was? The girl in front of him seemed to sense the danger, and he not even made a move. She scrambled across the stone. Her legs were caught in one another and she stumbled.

The next moment was blur. Her skin was scraped and battered. The exposed blood was enough to startle Beaux's senses. And dizzy with aroma, Beaux pounced on her with feline-like grace and ferocity. He felt her bones shattered beneath him.

She shouted for help, but Beaux's teeth were already deeply punctured in her veins. He wanted to stop but no matter how he tried to, he could not imagine this wriggling mass of flesh to be remotely as important as Meliah. They were not the same and his self control was equally as disappointing. The girl coughed her last breaths.

"Why?" she whispered before dying.

Beaux did not answer the question for he was constantly wondering the same thing. Why? Why? Why? Why was he born a monster?

He came to the chateau looking more worn and beaten then before. His white shirt was soaked through with the blood he had guzzled earlier. He would never have allowed so much to spill. For some reason, he was having difficulty pushing the blood down his throat. What a waste, he lamented.

Beaux had nearly forgotten about Meliah's presence when he suddenly heard her spectacular voice, resonating from his room. He halted in front of the closed door in shock.

"I can't undo it myself," she whined teasingly. Who was she talking to? Beaux thought.

"Um, well if you insist miss," the low voice an older boy answered.

The room fell silent for a brief moment before it was lit by an unnaturally high giggle.

"Sorry," the boy murmured.

"That's fine. Now that that's settled, won't you come over here a moment?" Meliah's voice suggested seductively. Beaux had never heard her tone in such a manner before. The smooth rise and fall of the cadences and rhythms left him stultified. He doubted the boy could have refused.

What was she thinking? Beaux questioned darkly. He heard a tumble and thud followed by the delighted chortling of his beloved.

The epiphany struck him too late. Beaux opened the door and his heart gave a terrible lurch as a feeling of deja vu overtook him. Meliah was leaning over the body of the mysterious boy, carefully extracting his blood. His body was mangled and his face torn like a page from a magazine.

Beaux could not contain his outrage. "What the hell are you doing?!" he cried, pulling Meliah off of the body.

When she looked up, her face was bright and beautiful as a monster. The cloudy eyes were replaced with a startling set of dark, red irises. "Beaux," she called happily.

With an elegance and fluidity the old Meliah could only have dreamed of, the new Meliah embraced Beaux before drawing his lips to hers. He wanted to push her away – to lock her away and stop her. But his selfishness only pulled her closer.

His arms wrapped around the night shift he had given her before. That wretch, Beaux thought, glaring at the boy on the ground, he must have…ugh! His jealousy consumed him like a wildfire.

"What were you doing?" Beaux asked angrily, breaking the connection.

"Huh?" Meliah asked in mock innocence, "Feeding."

"No – better question," Beaux amended, "What's going on? What happened? Are you all right?"

"Never better," Meliah answered with a halcyon smile.

"No," Beaux said as he finally pushed her aside, "You aren't normal. You can't be. There's something wrong."

"Wrong?" Once again, Meliah's voice was too sweet. She ignored his infuriated gaze and pulled her arms around his waist.

"Yes," Beaux resisted, "This isn't you! You hate me, remember? You don't behave like this!"

He formed manacles around her wrists to prevent her from dragging him closer. "Like this?" she asked as she easily slipped from his grasp and wrapped her arms around his neck. Her face hovered centimeters in front of his.

"Yes," Beaux whispered in a shaking voice. Meliah's laughter broke the silence.

She kissed his cheek affectionately. "What about this?" she asked again as she pressed her lips against the base of his neck.

Beaux could barely manage a squeak. He closed his eyes and let Meliah bite him.