Chapter Sixteen
"Right," Peter said as he looked at Cassandra and she saw the anger in his eyes. "Mind telling me how there is a portrait of the two of us hanging on your wall?"
"I told you. That portrait's always been there," Cassandra said and he nodded his head for her to continue. "As long as I could remember, it's faced the wall and I have no idea why."
"I remember Ed telling me that you should point mirrors toward the wall if you don't want ghosts to come into the house." Charlie said as they looked at him and Peter gave him a "Not now, Charlie" look.
"Is there a plaque on the frame?" Jane asked when Peter carefully got onto the high back chair and looked at the bottom of the frame. "See anything?"
"Yeah, it says eighteen eleven," Peter said then hopped off the high back chair and looked at the portrait.
"So it's some sort of engagement or wedding portrait?"
"That would explain the white dress," Peter said with a nod of his head.
"Is he wearing a sword?" Charlie asked as he pointed to the sword on the scabbard and Peter got back on the high back chair, took the portrait down and hopped off the high back chair, placing the portrait on the high back chair. He looked at the sword when he searched his pockets for the magnifying glass and sighed.
"Shit," he said softly when Cassandra walked to the desk and opened the door. Taking something out of the drawer, she closed the drawer then walked to him and placed the magnifying glass in his hand. Softly smiling, Peter knelt down as he examined the sword in the portrait and blinked his eyes, standing up. "Yep, it's the sword from the book."
"Which means he's met De'Avante," Charlie said and Peter half shrugged his shoulders.
"But that still doesn't tell us who they are," Jane said while Charlie looked at the portrait then noticed something and took the magnifying glass out of Peter's hand. "Charlie?"
"I don't fucking believe it," he said as he looked at the shadowy figure in the background and Peter leaned in to see what he was looking at. "Do you see that?"
"Yeah, it looks like…" Peter said as he looked over at Cross and frowned.
"It looks like Cross?" Jane asked and Peter nodded his head. "But that's impossible. This was painted in the eighteen hundreds. He can't be that old."
"Yes, he can." Cassandra said and Jane gave her a blank look.
"What are you talking about?"
"Cross is a familiar. You know what that is?" Peter asked and Jane shook her head. "A familiar is considered to be an aspect of one's life and reflects that self. They are permanent and appear when needed. True, according to most folk lore, familiars are considered demonic, but there are some that are just helpers and companions, like Cross."
"So, if he is in the portrait, he would know who they are," Charlie asked then frowned when Peter smiled and patted him on the top of his head. Cassandra walked to the perch when she held her wrist out and Cross hopped onto her wrist. She walked to the small, wooden table near the window when she sat Cross on the small perch near the small, wooden table and they walked closer, looking at her. Cassandra opened the drawer under the small, wooden table and removed a deck of cards with letters on them. She spread the cards out on the table as Peter leaned on the table and she saw the suspicion in his eyes.
"My grandmother used to hold séances and had trained Cross to spell out words using these cards," she said and Peter nodded his head. They watched as Cross hopped onto the table and looked at them. "Do you know who those people are?"
Cross walked along the table when it pulled out three cards and spelled YES. Cassandra moved the cards back into proper order and patted Cross' back.
"What is the man's first name?" she asked as Cross moved along the table and spelled GIACOM and Jane frowned, folding her arms under her breasts.
"What kind of name is that?" she asked as Peter studied the name and blinked his eyes.
"I think he ran out of letters," Peter said and Cross nodded its head. Peter studied the name when he sighed and frowned. "I think he's trying to spell Giacomo."
Cross nodded its head as Peter grinned then noticed that Charlie had taken out a pad and a pen and was writing things down. Cassandra moved the cards back into the right position and looked at Cross.
"Can you spell the woman's name?" she asked and Cross moved across the table and spelled CONSTANE.
"Um, I don't think that's a name," Jane said.
"He ran out of letters again," Peter said as he looked at the name then smiled and patted Cross' head. "I think the name is Constance."
Cross nodded while Charlie wrote the name down and Cassandra placed the cards back in proper order.
"What is the woman's last name?" she asked and Cross moved across the table and spelled LAKE.
"So her name was Constance Lake?" Jane asked.
"I guess so," Peter said then looked at Cassandra and she thought for a few minutes.
"I do remember my grandmother talking about a Constance Lake. She lived in the eighteen hundreds, but that was it. She said that no one in the family would talk about her or they were cursed," Cassandra said and Charlie frowned, looking at the portrait.
"Maybe she was practicing the black arts," Peter said as Cassandra shrugged then set the cards back in the proper order.
"What was the man's name?" she said as Cross moved across the table and spelled VINCEZ and they looked at each other. Peter paced back and forth then sat on the chair next to the table and rubbed his face with his hands. "Peter?"
"Shit," he said then pounded his fists on the arms of the chair and looked at them. "You do know that my life deals in lies and illusion, right?"
"Yeah," Charlie said with a nod of his head.
"Well, according to my father, my last name wasn't always Vincent. It used to be Vincenzi," he said and Charlie slightly smiled.
"You're Italian?" he asked and Peter glared at him.
"Only on my father's side," he said then sat back in the chair. "According to my father, his family came here in the eighteen hundreds from England and changed it. Some of them moved back to England in nineteen ten but my father moved back here in the sixties. Anyway, he said that my family spread out across the country and it was rumored that it was for protection. He never had the chance to tell me why."
"He didn't?" Cassandra asked.
"His parents were…" Charlie said when Peter glared at him and Charlie coughed, scratching the back of his neck.
"I'll tell you later," Peter said as Cassandra nodded when Cross moved across the table and spelled SWORD. "What did he spell?"
"Sword," Cassandra said and Cross nodded its head.
"Do you know where the sword is?" Jane asked.
"Yes, come on," Cassandra said as she headed for the stairs and they followed her out of the room. Peter smiled when Cross flew to his shoulder and he reached up, scratching Cross' back. They walked up the stairs as Jane looked around and Peter gently nudged her, shaking his head. She flipped him off as they headed for the top floor and Cassandra stood in front of the loft door. She opened the door as they walked up the creaking stairs and she used the chain to click the light on. Trunks, boxes, wardrobes and things covered in dirty sheets spread out before them as they walked along and a stained glass window was at the back of the room. Jane moved closer to Peter as he slid an arm around her and she smiled at him.
"Sorry, attics creep me out," she whispered and he nodded his head. Cassandra walked to the trunk in the corner when she knelt down and looked at the rusted lock. Snapping her fingers, they watched as the lock opened and she placed the lock on the floor. Peter slowly walked closer then knelt down next to her and looked at her.
"I swear that I didn't know about the portrait," she said as they locked eyes and he saw the truth in her eyes.
"I believe you," he whispered as she nodded and opened the trunk. A musty smell filled the room as they coughed and Peter looked into the trunk.
"Blimey," he said then gently picked up the scabbard and stood up. The leather was brittle and cracked as he gently slid his fingers over the handle of the silver blade sword and slid the silver blade sword out of the scabbard. Holding the silver blade sword so the blade faced him, he moved his fingers over the flat of the silver blade and blinked. His fingers tingled as he stood back and swung the silver blade sword back and forth.
"Whoa," Charlie said as Peter nodded then placed the silver blade sword back in the scabbard and handed the scabbard to Cassandra.
"No," she said while shaking her head and he titled his head to one side. "It belongs to you."
"Bullshit," he said but she stood back and Peter sighed, sliding the scabbard under his arm. All of them jumped when a rock suddenly burst through the stain glass window and Peter looked at the stain glass window. He had noticed it had gotten dark while they were coming to the loft and Cassandra had snapped her fingers to make the lights come on. Walking closer to the stain glass window, Peter peeked out through the hole and his heart raced when he saw Jean-Phillipe De'Avante floating in front of the stain glass window with his arms folded over his chest.
"Peek-a-boo," he said as Peter backed away from the window and they looked at him.
"RUN!" Peter shouted as Cross flew to Cassandra and they headed for the stairs. The stain glass window exploded as Peter ducked and Jean-Phillipe floated outside the window. "Ha, you can't come in without an invite!"
"That is true, Mon Ami, but you have to leave the house at some point!" he said then floated upward and Peter ran to the stain glass window, looking out at the darkening sky. "Up here!"
Placing the scabbard on the floor, Peter carefully leaned out of the window when he saw Jean-Phillipe standing on the roof and Peter carefully held onto the window frame. Jean-Phillipe watched while Peter climbed out onto the ledge and started climbing up toward him. Peter cursed the few times he slipped on the roof shingles when he finally made it to the top of the roof and the cool evening breeze blew through their hair.
"How did you find me?" Peter asked while panting and Jean-Phillipe simply smiled, tilting his head to one side.
"I never said I was looking for you," he said and Peter held his hands out as he tried to keep his balance and Jean-Phillipe arched his eyebrows up.
"Well, I am not going to let you hurt Cassandra!"
"My, this does feel familiar. It's like we've faced each other before," Jean-Phillipe said as he floated closer and Peter locked eyes with him. "Ah, oui, I remember now. You attacked me with that creature she keeps in a cage. But there is more to you, so much more!"
"Yeah, why not come closer and take a real good look!" Peter said as he tried to keep his balance and Jean-Phillipe moved closer. Peter could see the scars around Jean-Phillipe's eyes and wondered if Cross had blinded him. Peter shook that thought away because he could see Peter and Peter thought about what he knew about vampires. If some vampires are badly injured, they tend to need something called death sleeps to heal. Peter was brought out of his contemplation when he realized that Jean-Phillipe was standing face to face with him and he felt a cold chill running through him. Jean-Phillipe looked him up and down when a smile broke his face and he folded his arms over his chest.
"Well, this is a surprise. I thought I had gotten rid of you, Mon Ami. I guess I was wrong," Jean-Phillipe said and Peter made a little laugh, moving his feet a bit on the shingles. Before he could move, Jean-Phillipe swung his arm as he hit Peter in the face and Peter lost his balance. The last thing Jean-Phillipe saw before he changed into a puff of smoke was Peter falling off the roof and his laughter echoed in the darkness.