Crimson Rush A Vampire Romance (Crimson Book 1) (17 page)

Now I was confused. “What are you talking about?”

“Should you tell her Savoy … or should I? Tell her how you killed my sister, Emma!”

“I didn’t kill her! You did!” Marcus shot back.

Charlie shook his head. “No. I just destroyed a monster. You killed my sister when you turned her.”

“She begged to be turned,” Marcus spoke in his own defense.

“You’re a liar!” Charlie hollered. “You turned her because you were angry. You were angry because she wasn’t the Moon Witch you thought she was … but Star is … isn’t she?”

My mouth dropped open and I swung around to look at Marcus. “Is this true? Did you think she was a Moon Witch? Did you come here for me?”

Marcus bowed his head. “Yes … but not now. All that has changed.”

I angrily wiped away the unshed tears burning my eyes. “Why would it be different now? Because you had sex with me … like you do numerous other women? Or is it different now … because I know what you are after?”

“It isn’t like that Star,” he denied, shaking his head. “At first that’s what it was, but …” His words trailed off as I stepped up to him.

Shaking with rage, I struck Marcus across the face.

“No Star!” Luke jumped to his feet, ready to defend me if Marcus should turn violent.

“You seduced me to gain my trust!” I accused, my voice seething with pent up fury.

Marcus said nothing. He just continued to stare at me with those cold vampire eyes of his.

“I want you to leave!” I told him, before turning to Charlie. “And you too. You killed your own sister because she was a vampire. Now I know why Dad wouldn’t talk to you. I don’t want to ever see either of you again!” I stormed up the porch steps and through my front door.

Turning back, I spoke to Luke. “You are no longer welcome here either. You all misled me.”

Before any of them could respond, I slammed the door in their faces. The pain I felt at Marcus’s betrayal, was so profound, it was almost physical. The anguish inside me peaked, shattering my last shreds of control.

Resting my back against the door, I let the tears flow, as raw grief overwhelmed me.

Making love with Marcus had been too powerful - too pure to be real. I should have known.

The vampire was the essence of death, and not just physical death, but death of the heart - death of everything that was beautiful.

My heart was filled with a kind of despair that I’d never known before, and it shook me to the very foundation of my being.

If this was love, it was not something I ever wanted to feel again.

Like most people, I have experienced sadness and despair, but never had I experienced it in quite the same way. Finding the strength to get out of bed in the mornings was a chore. When waking, I would feel the pain spreading from my heart, radiating out to every point of my body and soul.

Strangely enough, I never realized how much I looked forward to seeing Marcus during my visits to Club Crimson, until he was no longer there. They were all gone, Night Reign, Grace, and even Aaron.

Club Crimson was still open for business, but now someone else was running it. That someone was not a vampire, as was evident by the fact that the guy had been seen out and about during daylight hours.

For the time being, it seemed that all the vampires were gone from Cookson Springs. At least that’s the way it would seem. I had my doubts.

After Marcus killed the Reapers, the murders stopped. Unfortunately, when the bodies were discovered, it was revealed that the culprits were no other than Brian, his brother, and the strange guy who worked at Brownie’s Quick Mart.

Daya was devastated, but since I barely had strength enough to walk down the stairs and find something to eat, I hadn’t been much help in comforting her. It made me feel like a terrible friend, but what could I say to her?

I’m sorry your murdering boyfriend was killed?

I
was
sorry for Daya, I wasn’t so sure I was sorry for the loss of Brian and his brother though. They’d been helping the local Rush producers drain witches. I would have been another victim, but unfortunately for the Reapers, they had some competition. A thousand year old vampire also wanted my blood. They were no match for Marcus.

Marcus!

Whenever I thought about him, it was like someone punching me in the stomach.

Now that he was gone, the days ran together - a blur of sunrises and sunsets. There was no distinguishing one day from another.

When had I fallen in love with him?

Had it been that first night I saw him on the stage, ripping out chords of haunting music - singing of the soul’s anguish, and the pleasure’s of the flesh?

Did I fall in love with him the first time he kissed me, or when he’d saved my life that night in Club Crimson’s parking lot?

I had no idea what precise moment it was that I fell in love with Marcus Savoy, but what I did know was loving a vampire meant pain.

Closing my eyes, I relived the torment of that last scene - the look on his face when I told him I never wanted to see him again.

It wasn’t a look of disappointment or anger - it was the look of hopelessness and despair.

So why hadn’t I asked for more of an explanation before banishing him from my life?

The love - the pain, and the anguish, had been too much to process at once. I was shattered from within. 

Each day, Max would come by and try to coax me out of bed, tempting me with popcorn and a movie night, or just about anything he thought might spark my interest. The truth was, I wasn’t interested in anything. Sometimes I found it difficult to even care if I continued to breathe.

Aaron had warned me.

Why hadn’t I listened? How could I have believed I was immune to Marcus Savoy, when so many other women had been destroyed?

If I were to be honest with myself, my depression wasn’t due only to Marcus’s betrayal, but also because I’d been deceived by Charlie and Luke. There was also the fact that Aaron was gone. I hadn’t known him well, but he was someone I thought could have been a good friend. He was also someone I felt needed my help.

I heard the knock on my front door, but closed the sound off. It would have been too much bother to get up and answer it.

A few minutes later, Uncle Basile was standing at my bedroom door. “Starla Lavelle! You be getting your lazy self up out of that bed.”

“I’m too tired.”

“You aint bamboozling me, girl! You been in that bed for near on two weeks. You be pouting about that vampire,” he grumbled.

“Just let me go back to sleep,” I moaned in my pillow.

Basile stalked over to the bed and fixed me with a scowl. “If you aint out of that bed in two minutes, I’m gonna throw some cold water on you. Then you won’t be wanting to stick your ass in that bed.”

With a loud sigh, I sat up and glared at him. “What do you want anyway?”

“You to get your ass outa that bed. That’s what I be wanting. Now go get yourself cleaned up and I’ll go make us some grub,” he ordered, then spun on his heels and left the room.

My Uncle Basile could sure be a pain in the rear end when he wanted to be.

Groaning inwardly, I threw the covers off and slid out of bed. With my eyes still half closed, I headed into the bathroom. I’d pacify Uncle Basile, and then when he was gone, go back to that dark place that I’d become comfortable with.

And really, a little food didn’t sound all that bad.

* * *

A hot shower can do wonders for the body, as well as the spirit. As I walked down the stairs, I realized that my spirits were a little higher than they had been before Basile showed up. The smell of frying bacon also helped, though it did send my stomach into a growling fit.

It had been weeks since I’d had a home cooked meal, and everyone knew Uncle Basile was one of the best cooks in Cookson Springs.

When I walked into the kitchen, Basile already had a plate of food sitting in my spot at the table. There were eggs over easy, bacon, and griddlecakes. He’d even warmed the maple syrup.

Basile must have brought the food with him, as he sure couldn’t have found much of anything in my fridge.

“It looks yummy. Thank you Uncle Basile,” I told him.

Grunting, he poured me a glass of orange juice. “You be a bit old for me to have to do this though.”

“Well that just makes it even more special.”

Basile rolled his eyes and sat down to eat his own breakfast.

“Why didn’t you ever tell me about Emma?” I asked, in between bites of food.

After finishing the strip of bacon he’d been chomping on, Basile took a couple of gulps of orange juice before answering my question. “If I had of told you … then I would be having to tell you about vampires … or bald face lie.”

“And you didn’t want me to know about vampires?”

A frown added a little extra orneriness to Basile’s usual sour expression. “They be nothing but trouble! You know that now … don’t you girl?”

Instead of responding, I focused on my plate, eating every last morsel of food. I was even tempted to get a second helping, but decided I hadn’t had nearly enough exercise lately to counteract a munching binge.

“Why did Marcus Savoy turn her? Did she really want to become a vampire?” I asked.

Basile lifted his droopy shoulders. “Your ma sure seemed to think so. The truth be … I don’t know. Your ma was of the opinion that Emma fell in love with a vampire, and she were thinking that if she were a vampire … she could get around the family curse.”

This perked my interest. “Was that vampire Marcus?”

“Don’t know … don’t believe so,” he said, shaking his head.

My thoughts went to the vision I’d had during the moon christening. “I had a vision about the curse.”

Basile nodded. “It be a curse that brings bad things to Lavelle witches, if they be in love with a vampire.”

That would explain Emma’s desire to become a vampire. It was possible that a Lavelle who was a vampire, could get around the curse. Maybe it would have worked, except now we’d never know because Charlie killed her.

The thought of Uncle Charlie killing his own flesh and blood was sickening. “Why did Charlie kill her if she wasn’t a danger to anyone. Why would she be a danger if she became a vampire out of love.”

Basile narrowed his eyes on me. “All vampires are a danger … no matter if they be your best friend … or your own mama. Don’t forget that.”

“But you don’t like Charlie, so you must not have agreed with what he did,” I insisted.

“That be true enough … but that don’t mean I trust the bloodsuckers either.”

There was nothing I could say to that. I wasn’t so sure they could be trusted either.

“Where is Emma now?” I asked.

“Where all the Lavelles go once they leave this here earth. She be in the family crypt.”

* * *

Black - ominous clouds rolled across the sky, bringing with them bursts of wind that swayed the tops of nearby trees. A spatter of rain hit the windshield, but I didn’t notice. My eyes were focused on the large gray tomb, the final resting place of several generations of Lavelles, including my parents.

I hadn’t visited the tomb since their funeral. Knowing that two of the people I loved most in the world, now lay cold and hollow within those walls, was too much to bear. I figured that I could as easy love my parents and keep their memory sacred in my childhood home, as I could an empty - desolate cemetery.

Though I was anxious to see Emma’s resting place for myself, the Lavelle tomb was not a place I wanted to be.

Taking a deep breath, I opened the car door and got out. There wasn’t a lot of sense in waiting longer. The incoming storm would only get worse.

A sudden gust of wind tossed my hair in all directions. The air around me exploded with the sound of thunder, and the raindrops came down harder.

It’s a warning!

I pushed the morbid thought from my mind. A cemetery was just a place of memory - not a bad place. In spite of the fact that it was a dark - cloudy day, and it being near sunset, the cemetery wasn’t a place to be afraid of. I had to keep reminding myself of this, as I trotted in the direction of the Lavelle crypt.

The large crypt was made of gray stone, but there were a lot of fancy designs in the cement trim. There were angels with harps, and depictions of the holy battle in heaven, but among these carvings were other designs that I hadn’t noticed before. There were also stars and moons, and even a pentagram.

Maybe if I’d been paying attention, I would have discovered the family secret long before I did.

Lifting the heavy padlock, I inserted the key - the same key I’d scoured the house looking for before Mom and Dad’s funeral. I’d finally found it tucked in the top drawer of Dad’s dresser.

The padlock clicked open. I pulled it from where it secured the door. The door was heavy, and not too easy to push open. Switching on the flashlight I’d brought with me, I stepped into that gloomy place of death.

There were cobwebs everywhere, which was expected. The only time the tomb was cleaned, was right before a funeral.

Who would want to come in once a week and clean cobwebs out of a crypt?

I had serious doubts that the dead cared too awful much about cobwebs, though I didn’t like them much.

Brushing the sticky webs out of my way, I started examining the inscriptions on the walls. A Lavelle family member rested behind each epitaph. They all had their stories to tell, but at the moment, I was interested in Emma Lavelle’s story.

I found her memorial not too far from Mom and Dad’s. Why I’d never noticed it before was beyond me, except for maybe I just wasn’t looking.

Placing my hands on Emma’s epitaph, I closed my eyes and tried to clear my thoughts so that she could get through. All around me, I could hear the whispers of the dead, but Emma remained strangely silent.

When I’ve really tried, I’ve never had a problem getting through to the other side, except for in Mom and Dad’s case. That could be explained. Most mediums could not communicate with lost loved ones because of their grief. Since I hadn’t known Emma, that shouldn’t be a problem.

But Emma was silent, either unable or unwilling to come forward.

The deep - throaty chuckle startled me. I dropped the flashlight. It hit the ground, and the light was extinguished.

Spinning around, I peered into the shadows. The dark form stood only ten feet away. It was dusk, so there was almost no light in the tomb.

I bent to get the flashlight, fully expecting the figure to spring on me. It didn’t move.

With a little shaking, the flashlight again provided a soft glow of comforting light. I immediately directed it to where I’d seen the dark figure.

There was nothing there.

That was impossible. I hadn’t imagined the laughter.

“You are not nearly careful enough Star.” The voice was right next to my ear.

Screaming, I turned to see Jonas standing there, a smug smile on his face.

“What are you doing in here?” I cried.

His wicked smile widened. “That should be obvious. I probably wouldn’t be in the Lavelle crypt … if I were not here for a Lavelle.”

I was confused, which was easy to be with Jonas. “What are you talking about?”

“I came for you.”

Still I was confused. “What do you want with me? How did you know I was here?”

“Following your scent isn’t that difficult. You have a scent that is distinctly you … like roses and warm summer nights.”

I backed away from him until I could feel the chill of the crypt’s stone wall against my back. “You better leave me alone. Marcus will know … and he will kill you.”