The Frenchman Read online

  “You wait here and I’ll try to take care of the sunlight,” he assured.

  Unexpectedly, she hurried up the last few steps to grab his arm. “Promise you won’t leave me here?”

  When the soft sunlight fell across the skin of her neck, he saw its devastating power. Just as the silver had burned his flesh, peeling it back to expose the raw and bloody contents underneath, so did sunlight destroy the defenses of the vampire.

  Darren stepped in front of her to shield the light. “I promise I won’t leave without you.”

  He would have never suspected that a hand that could kill could also instill such peace and joy. The tiny touch of her fingers just a couple of hours ago did not do her justice. Feeling her grip, so gentle and yet powerful, made Darren feel so much more than he dared to before.

  Jane swallowed hard and he could sense a small sample of the fear she had shown before. This time, she wasn’t afraid of death or some nameless catastrophe. She feared that he would truly leave and never return. How could he ever abandon her?

  She descended the stairs to wait in the murky darkness before Darren opened the wooden door.

  Once again, he was surprised by what was waiting for him. The home of this madman was nothing like his cellar. The polished wooden floors and high ceilings were fit for a king. Stunning wallpaper with intricate, yet elegant patterns covered the walls of the chamber he entered.

  The door that led to the cellar was masked by the wallpaper that matched the rest of the room and cloaked this secret entrance from the public eye. Expensive furnishing filled the room, chairs with their colorfully embroidered cushions, and hand-crafted tables. Tall windows lined one wall, consuming the room in the treacherous light that he had to block for Jane.

  He shut the door behind him and quickly went to work drawing the thick velvet curtains, but even then, he could not keep the morning from beaming around the edges and through the gaps that he could not close.

  If Jane walked across this floor, she still would have been blasted by the sunlight that refused to be hidden. Darren passed through the chamber and explored the rest of the mansion to find something he could use to his advantage. In every immaculate chamber, he found more tall windows with inadequate curtains and no shutters or spare boards to block the light.

  The house, surprisingly, was empty. No servants, no maids or slaves, no one to tend to the needs of the nobleman or take care of such a grand home. Outside, the grounds and gardens stretched on for acres upon acres, not quite as beautiful as John’s estate, but more on the same level as Longleat House in Warminster.

  Scouring through the rooms, both upstairs and downstairs, Darren was running out of convenient options. Finally, he resorted to the unthinkable. A groundskeeper shed behind the home supplied him with a hammer and bucket of nails and he brought them inside. He started in one of the rooms he thought they would not have to search through, and began to dismantle the smooth, wooden floorboards.

  One by one, he ripped them from their place and piled them in the rooms that would need to be boarded up. The task took a few hours, but when the project was done, not a shred of offending light slanted through the windows.

  He opened the door to the cellar and found Jane waiting patiently on the stairs.

  “It’s safe now,” he announced, tired and more than a little hungry. While Jane searched the house for her mother’s ring, he knew exactly where he would go. The kitchen. If there was no meat there, he would take to the woods. He needed meat and the bloodless corpse in the cellar would not do the job.

  Jane cautiously eyed his handiwork. “Where did you get the wood?”

  “From an obliging floor.”

  She smiled and set to work, rifling through the drawers of desks and tables. Knowing that they were finally out of immediate danger, Darren let the relief wash over him. Neither of them would die this day, nor suffer any more harm at the hands of the dead man in the cellar. Jane might have been fully capable of finding a way out herself and taking on Richard alone, but it might have been twice as difficult.

  Gratification swelled in his chest and he could walk to the kitchen with pride, knowing that he had been able to help her. He hadn’t been able to help his mother, or the townspeople that fell prey to the ravages of the manic crowd, but he helped Jane. That seemed enough to right the wrongs of the past, though it was a far cry from absolution.

  After procuring a hefty chunk of ham from the kitchen, Darren scouted the area around the house. His nose worked, testing the air. What he found puzzled him just as much as the mansion and the enigmatic madman. There wasn’t a hint of civilization for miles away. Even at the chateau, he could faintly smell the smoke from cottage chimneys some distance away.

  Here, there was nothing but the wild forests and a string of snowcapped mountains so far off that Darren could hardly judge their true height. How could a man maintain such an estate by himself with no readily accessible resources? Unless Richard did it all himself, it simply didn’t make sense that such a magnificent home would be situated so far from everything.

  He returned inside and determined that Jane was upstairs. Darren thought now would be the ideal time to dispose of Richard’s body. If left to rot in the cellar, the stink would become too unbearable for his nose. There were still several hours to go before nightfall and only then could they leave the mansion safely.

  When he arrived in the cellar, lanterns still flickering along the walls, Darren did not find a body. In the place where they had left him, bloodied and his face frozen in the last horrific moments of his death, there was not a corpse to be found. Instead, a long pile of soggy, dark dust and bones blotched with the darkness that had consumed his soul.

  There was no flesh, no organs to toss to the crows outside, nothing left of the man but an empty skull where a demented brain was once housed. Still, Darren picked up each of the bones, one by one, and cradled them in his arms. There were still many things he didn’t understand about the preternatural world. One thing he remembered from legends was that the body and bones of evil people must be burned and buried so they will never return.

  Darren found a cleared place on the grounds and managed to light a pyre. He stood vigilant, watching the bones crack under the heat and shrivel into the soil. He did not mourn the man, nor did he feel any guilt for what they did. Yet, he could not help but wonder who this man was. Apart from the mad pursuit for eternal life and power, did Richard once have a family? What drove him to such extremes and how did he come to live in such a luxurious place? Flames danced in the hollow eye sockets of his skull, and Darren tried to imagine why a man with such fortune and privilege would throw it all away for the chance to be something so unnatural.

  “Darren!” he heard from the second floor of the mansion. “I found it!”

  Leaving the last shards of white bone to burn, he sped inside to join her in what he assumed was Richard’s bed chamber. The red canopy bed was laden with his scent, as well as the other belongings within the room.

  Jane stood in front of a vanity littered with all manner of grooming tools with a mahogany jewelry box open in the center. Inside, jewels and gems from necklaces, bracelets, and rings seemed to sparkle in the darkness, without the need of any other light around it. Pinched in her fingers was the object of her obsession, the Holy Grail of her long quest.

  She offered it to him and he inspected it. “All this way, for such a small thing?” he questioned her as he turned it over in his hand.

  It was of a simple design, yet beautiful in the way the pure sapphire gem was nestled into the golden band that featured intricately chiseled details. There were greater rings, to be sure, but how many of them could hold such weight within a woman’s heart? How many of them were so precious that a young girl would leave the safety of her home and risk death to acquire it?

  Jane took the ring back from him, holding it so tenderly within her hands that no one would ever doubt its importance in her life. “It’s the only thing I have left of my mother. It
belonged to her mother before her, as well.” Jane smiled. “One day, if I have a daughter, I’ll give it to her.”

  Darren nodded in approval. Women weren’t allowed the indulgences and freedoms they deserved. Heritages and wills often passed from father to son, with no inclusion of the female sex. His mother was an exception because she possessed some of her own wealth. But if she had had a daughter instead of a son, the farm wouldn’t have been in her inheritance.

  This ring, and others like it, signified the one shred of autonomy women possessed. They could own something and have the complete freedom to give it to their daughters. Darren could not scoff at such an ambition.

  “That’s quite a legacy,” he said as he watched the way her eyes danced with delight that she found exactly what she had yearned.

  “It will be mine, at least,” she replied as she slipped the ring onto her right ring finger. As if it had been made for her, it fit perfectly.

  Chapter 11

  Darren dove for the rabbit and the tips of his fingers grazed the soft hairs of its tail as it scurried away into the bushes. It had never been this difficult to catch his meals before. He had managed to leap upon a deer with complete stealth and precision, but he couldn’t nab a tiny rodent? It must have been because Jane was watching him from the shadows.

  Any other man might have been embarrassed to fail in front of a lady, especially in something that should have been his expertise. He was a loup-garou and he couldn’t even catch a rabbit? Yet, Darren did not feel ashamed or angry at his momentary short-coming. Jane’s giggles were well worth it.

  He pushed himself up and brushed off the dirt from the fresh shirt he had pinched from Richard’s wardrobe. They weren’t quite the same size, but it was better than the blood-stained tunic he would have to give back to Noelle.

  “Would you like me to help?” Jane asked as she approached him.

  Darren looked to her, noticing the way the moonlight seemed to glow off her pale skin. She seemed out of place amongst the trees and wilderness. A beauty like her belonged in elegant gowns, dancing with all the handsome and wealthy men of court. She had told him about her slightly extravagant lifestyle in Italy and how her father could pay for anything and everything she desired.

  Still, she did not falter among the protruding roots or stumble over the uneven terrain. If it were possible for her to be loup-garou, Darren wouldn’t have doubted it.

  He gestured in the direction that the rabbit had darted. “Be my guest,” he offered. “I’ve had enough tries for one night.”

  Jane giggled again and knelt beside him, her slender hands placed upon her knees and eyes focused ahead. Darren watched her, both confused and intrigued by the way she simply sat, as if waiting for the rabbit to come to them.

  It did. It took a moment, but when Darren looked back to the bushes, the same rabbit that had eluded him for the last hour came bouncing over the distance between them. It sat in front of them, well within arm’s reach with its nose twitching vigorously as it tested the air for the danger that was so near.

  “What did you do?” he whispered to her.

  “Take it,” she replied. “I don’t know how much longer I can hold it.”

  Darren’s hand snapped out just as the rabbit seemed to comprehend where exactly it was, but by then it was too late. With a quick jerk, he snapped the critter’s neck and the wildly pumping, long hind feet went still.

  “How did you do that?” Darren asked as he set to work spreading the feet out so he could skin the rabbit with the talon he had learned to extend from his finger.

  “It’s something all vampires can do,” she replied, placing her hand over his to stop him. “Wait. Let me first?”

  Slightly stunned by the brush of her skin onto his, it took Darren a moment to realize what she meant. He nodded and Jane took the rabbit from him. She sank her teeth into the soft underbelly and fed. A tiny trickle of blood leaked out from the corner of her parted lips, but Darren couldn’t look away. Even feasting upon the blood of their prey, she was lovely.

  When she was finished, she handed the bloodless rabbit back to Darren and wiped her mouth with her sleeve.

  “So, you can control minds?” he questioned as he continued his work. It turned out to be surprisingly easier to gut the hare now that there was little to no blood left to get in the way.

  “Not minds, but bodies,” she explained. “And I’m only just learning how. My father can control several men at once, but I seem to only have luck with the tiny, weak-minded things like rabbits and birds for now.

  The thought troubled Darren as he tried to focus on stripping skin from flesh. How terrifying would it be to be under the manipulation of a creature that thirsted for blood? He had thought loups-garous were powerful beasts, but it seemed that vampires could be just as deadly.

  “Of course, my father only uses the skill in self-defense. He’s never killed a man for blood.”

  It was as if she could read his very thoughts, but Darren didn’t reply. His belly was far too empty to bother with what her father was like.

  They had been walking for quite a while to the east, further from his pack and further from Richard’s mansion. As soon as the sun had sunk below the horizon and ceased to cast its deadly light upon the earth, they set foot in the general direction of the Italian border where they knew Jane’s father would be.

  Darren could have left her on her own. Jane was fully capable of crossing the countryside by herself, but he knew that if they parted ways at Richard’s mansion, he would constantly think about her, wondering if she made it safely into her father’s hands. He was at no risk of changing into his uncontrollable, unmanageable loup-garou form, so there was no danger on her part. Though, he would have been in much greater danger of growing too attached to the vampire.

  What would his alpha say when he told him the whole story about Richard and the mansion and Jane? What would Bart say? What would the rest of his pack say? If vampires and loups-garous were truly at odds with one another, they might not have approved of his decision to escort Jane home. Then again, what if John was like Jane’s father and seemed to desire peace and goodwill toward the opposite race? Would he applaud Darren’s ignorance of their differences?

  When Darren was finished with his meal, he found that Jane had not wandered far. Not once since they met, had she given him any indication that she cared for him in the same way that he did her. It was as if he were her equal, or close friend, but never anything more, which frustrated Darren.

  His wolf, however, sang a different tune than it first had in the cell. Away from the stench of death and evil, Darren finally realized that Jane did not smell like a lady at all. The subtle odor of something rotten clung to her and he wanted to believe it was something on her clothes. Whatever it was, it repulsed his wolf and they were no longer in agreement over Jane.

  Darren’s heart beamed with one emotion, while his loup-garou soul bristled with another.

  “You said you met another loup-garou before,” he said as he tossed aside what was left of the rabbit, so the buzzards and bugs could pick the bones clean.

  Jane turned to him, eyes bright and glimmering with a certain emotion that he never wished to see on her again. Regret.

  “Yes, once. Many years ago.”

  Darren smeared the excess juices from his meal on the seat of his pants. “Your voice tells another story,” he remarked and they set out in the direction of the Italian border once more.

  A corner of Jane’s lips turned up. “It’s hard to talk about sometimes.”

  “If you wish to not – “

  She turned to him and touched his arm. “No, no. It’s all right.”

  Once more, Darren cherished the moment, while his wolf shivered as if the very touch of her should have made his skin crawl. Perhaps sensing the contradiction in him, she pulled back her hand much too soon.

  “We spent weeks together, traveling with my father and we… I thought our hearts beat as one, but I was wrong. He sailed aw
ay, but never returned, even when he promised he would.” Jane sighed. “He told me he would write, but I only received a few infrequent letters before he stopped replying to mine.”

  “Perhaps he…” Darren didn’t want to say it, though he would gladly think it. Jane was still clearly infatuated with this first loup-garou she met, and in consequence, she did not care for Darren. He wanted to tell her that her first love would not return, so she should move on to a loup-garou who was closer.

  It was all selfish and that was not the kind of heart-wrenching reality that she wanted to hear. It would make him the villain, not her hero. So, he offered her another alternative.

  “Perhaps he’s been busy or in a place where he could not send word to you.”

  “I had held out hope for it,” she said, “but the days and weeks and years dragged on and he still never came back. Whatever became of him, I’m sure he’s happy.”

  Darren carefully weighed his words, then said, “He is at a terrible disadvantage, though.”

  Jane regarded him with a look of wonder. “Why is that?”

  “You are not by his side.”

  Jane smiled and looked away, a tiny hint of color rising in her cheeks. “You are kind,” she muttered as she gripped her elbows. “But, as I said, the man did not want me in the same way. He might have thought of me as a little sister, but nothing more.”

  “That is his loss, then,” Darren countered quickly. “I don’t know how every man who lays eyes upon you wouldn’t fall madly in love with you.”

  She slid a sly glance his way. “Oh? Have you made this mistake?”

  Darren thought quickly and clasped his hands behind his back. “I am not every man,” he replied. He hoped to sound as if he was immune to her charms, though he had fallen for her oh so quickly.

  “I see.” He could feel her eyes roam over him, then looked away. “Well, it would be a shame if every man did fall in love with me.”