Fire Nectar 2 (5 page)

Ludovico stuttered, “Oui, and do it now. The sun is coming faster than I desire. We must away, ‘fore it is too late.”

Joshua nodded curtly and bit into his own wrist, ripping the skin back to let the blood flow freely. To the pain he gave no thought. Marion stared into his eyes as he held the fresh wound above the puncture holes. She slowly felt his healing magic and marveled as the pain vanished leaving only a lazy sleepiness behind. Joshua met her eyes and found in them a look filled with knowing, understanding and acceptance. But he saw something else there, as well. Something he could not ascertain as to its origin. Eagerness, perhaps? The look unsettled him. This was his first time; he could not trust his mind tonight. The girl was innocent… that look he’d seen must have been a strange reaction to… well, to all of this. He pushed a rising feeling of foreboding far away as Ludovico took hold of his arm and stepped forward.

From where she lay on the couch, Marion looked up into Ludovico’s eyes with excited curiosity. She felt as though she wanted to faint, but she would not let that happen. There was too much to know! Had he told her then that they indeed were not gods, she could not have believed him. She knew in her heart that they were her ticket out. But how? Her mind sharpened as she heard him say, “Marion, you are to be paid handsomely for your trust and even greater, for your silence. Do not speak to anyone of what you have witnessed. Do I have your word?” She nodded quickly, and meant it. Her luck had changed this night, and she would keep this luck her own.

Ludovico reached for the note to William. “Good. Eat a hearty meal tonight, and rest, my dear. My suggestion would be veal, something red and dead. Understand?” She nodded, wide-eyed. “I must give this to Gabrielle and see that we are off to London safely. Say your goodbyes. I’m afraid we will not be returning.”

He offered a low bow, tossed a smirk to Joshua, and was gone in a flash.

With some effort, Marion lifted herself to a seated position. Her eyes were widened as she stared at the empty space where Ludovico had just stood. Joshua rushed to help her at once. Turning on her powers of virginal seduction, she managed a fresh tear to fall down her cheek as she peeked upwardly at him like a schoolgirl, pouting subtly. She felt she’d just met her ticket out of purgatory and she would not let this god escape her. Now that the bossier of the two was gone, she reached out her tiny hands, implying desperate need of an embrace. Joshua rushed forward with no secret left to hide. He wrapped her in his arms and bent to kiss her lips, her nose, and finally each closed eyelid as she cooed.

His voice was thick with love and lust for her. “I will see you again.”

She pulled away so she could gaze at him in innocent wonder. “Oui, Monsieur?”

“Oui. He does not own me. I will come back for you, Marion! Wait for me, my love?”

“Until the heavens part, and the seas turn black! I will wait, I swear it.”

They kissed one last time, passionately pressing their lips together until hers bruised, binding their vow forever.

Joshua pulled himself away, kissing her fingers before he left. Ludovico and Joshua bid adieu Madame Gabrielle and le Chabanais as they walked out onto the streets of Paris together. The fledgling felt that the world was now heaven and everything was a gift. He had met his soul’s other half. He could not believe his luck – first the gift, now this!

“Did you leave the girl alive?” Ludovico joked, walking in a human’s pace.

Joshua laughed. “You know I did.”

Ludovico became more serious then. “Did you promise you would see her again?”

Joshua stared forward. “No. I shan’t see her again.”

“Excellent. The world is full of Marions! We are off to London on the morrow. William will make it so. Until then, we sleep!”

“I don’t believe sleep to be possible. So much has happened in one short night! I feel I wish to stay awake!”

“You will find The Sun gives you no such choice, mon ami. She rules the day, and we the night.”

Tomorrow they would rise again. Tomorrow they would continue his lesson. Tomorrow they would face Wolfl, together. Tomorrow…

“
B
urgundy
?” Ludovico held the bottle above an empty glass intended for The Doomed. Another glass waited to be filled and held…but never drunk from.

Joseph Wolfl leaned back on the couch of his upper floor sitting room, like a smug, lazy cat. “Of course.” Ludovico smiled and poured, then thought a moment, and chose not fill his own. Wolfl was too full of himself to notice, he ascertained correctly. The two were alone, vampire and human. The servants had gone off to bed long ago, with the last remaining tending to his master’s return before being sent away. “What an honor to make your acquaintance, di Breme. I’m exceedingly glad I went to Almack’s after all, now. Usually such a horrific bore, you know. Mostly tedious old hags scheming to marry off their homely daughters to the highest bidder. Can’t bear it above half.”

Ludovico smiled serenely, “Sounds dreadful,” and strolled to hand off the aperitif.

“An understatement, I assure you,” Wolfl purred as he reached out to receive the glass. He took a less than dainty sip and watched Ludovico sit across from him in a chair so high-backed it reminded one of a throne. “I’ve heard your name before this night. You have the distinction of being Italy’s Minister of Interior… do I have that right?”

Ludovico laughed a cocky laugh and waved languidly his hand. “It’s nothing. Er…might we speak in French? I’d feel more comfortable.”

“Oui, ce que vous voulez.”

“Merci.” Ludovico smiled and continued in French, “I retired my post in pursuit of more entertaining ventures.”

Wolfl raised a solitary eyebrow. “What could be more entertaining than to mold a changing country alongside other brilliant minds?”

Ludovico laughed and threw ankle over knee as he so loved to do. “Thank you for the compliment, my good man. But I find few minds truly brilliant! Plus I prefer more pleasurable diversions–less serious ones, you know! Such as now, for example. What a treat! To happen upon the great composer Joseph Wolfl! A happy surprise I might never have had, had I been shackled to the dusty rooms of politics.”

Wolfl smiled, but inwardly he’d begun to feel on edge. There was something odd about the way the Italian looked at him. He’d not been aware of it in the busy, social halls of Almack’s. Nor even when they’d ridden together in the hackney and pair. Conversation between them then had been light and easy, as though he’d found a friend, and of the variety he most treasured–one of the upper class. But something had changed and just a moment ago. Suddenly he felt something odd about his new friend, though he could not be sure of the cause of it. Still–though he tried very hard to ignore it–a small instinct deep down inside his soul had tipped on edge. He found himself repressing a shudder. With a keenly observing eye, he muttered, “You flatter me sir. I am merely a musician who has had a minor amount of luck, that is all.”

Ludovico’s mouth turned up on one corner, but the rest of him remained as still as glass. No longer attempting to hide his aptitude for stillness, he could see that Wolfl was becoming frightened, and he loved it. “Quite golden, your luck. Is it not?” he toyed.

The human’s eyes twitched and his weight shifted in his seat. “Oh? What makes you say it?”

Ludovico then stood and crossed to the window. “Your sonata was all the rage in France.” He slid open the thick green curtains to reveal a door. Feigning surprise, he exclaimed, “A balcony! How marvelous. I find the air a bit stale, is it not?” He unlatched the door and opened it wide, not waiting for an answer. Cool air swept in at once.

Wolfl squirmed, and chuckled lightly. “You wish us both to catch our death of cold, I see.” He hoped the hint would hit its mark. It did not.

Ludovico turned. “Very lucky indeed.” His eyes danced as though he knew a secret. And he did.

Wolfl blinked. “Oui. Luck. But one achieves success when one has worked their entire life honing one’s talents. Would you not agree?”

Ludovico nodded as though he did. “The law of perseverance, you mean.”

Wolfl smiled, his ego puffing up to support him. “Dedication!”

“Ah.” Tilting his head, Ludovico watched Wolfl. “Tell me… how long did it take you to complete the piece?”

“Monsieur?”

“’Non Plus Ultra.’ How long did you toil on it night after night until it was perfect in every way? And what was your inspiration? I’m dying of curiosity.” Ludovico’s eyes sparkled as he threw his victim off balance by asking, “Have you any snuff?”

Wolfl started, confused. He stuttered the answer, “Indeed, I have some. Would you care to…”

“No. Never touch the stuff.” Ludovico waved his hand as if the idea was absurd.

Wolfl blinked. It felt as though the room was closing in on him and, even though a strong cold wind blew steadily in, he began to feel sweat form in the nether regions of his form. He tugged at his neckcloth, looking down to the rug beneath him, then to the table to where he’d left his glass. He’d never seen an expression so disturbing as the one staring back at him and he could not meet it. Accidentally reverting back to English, he stammered, “Sir, if you please, I…”

“Francais s’il vous plaît.” Ludovico instructed calmly–too calmly.

Suddenly Wolfl felt rage boil in his chest. He would not be made to feel so unnerved in his own home! He was not a slight figure and his mind was sharp and cunning. For him to feel like a boy trapped in a lion’s cage incensed him. He thrust out his chin and defiantly answered in English, “The night has come to an end. I have a full day tomorrow and…” He stopped as he saw Ludovico very purposefully lay his hand atop the ornate half full bottle of Burgandy.

“Speak. In. French.” Ludovico commanded as he pushed the bottle until it crashed into a cracking explosion of wet, broken glass on the floor.

Wolfl lost all sense of propriety, yelling, “What is this nonsense? What did you do that for and why must I speak in French?”

Without warning, Joshua appeared on the balcony accompanied by a strong whip of air and a strangely silent landing. Wolfl gasped to see his old friend standing before them, having just swooped in from the rooftop of all things! Looking directly at him with an icy stare, Joshua spoke with the same odd stillness of the other, with nothing moving on him but his lips. “You know I do not speak any other language, Joseph. And it is rude to not include me in the conversation. Wouldn’t you agree?”

Wolfl stepped back in surprise. “Joshua? What the devil?” His eyes narrowed as he tried desperately to understand what was happening. “What were you doing on my roof? And how did you–”

Ludovico spoke over him as he bantered with Joshua, playfully chiding him. “You really must learn more languages if we mean to travel together. I can’t translate for you forever, you know.”

Joshua walked into the room and shut the door, smiling. “It is not something I’m proud of. I led a sheltered life.”

“A ghastly flaw, indeed,” Ludovico mused.

“Indeed.” Joshua repeated as he closed the curtains with an eerie slowness. “I never found the time.”

“Time is not something you now lack.”

Poor Wolfl was at a loss entirely. “Joshua, answer me! How did you come down from the roof? I’m sure I don’t have the slightest idea…”

Joshua continued to ignore him as he bowed to Ludovico. “Thanks to you.”

Ludovico smiled. “The least that I could do.”

Joshua’s mouth curved. “Come now. Do not undersell your generosity.” Wolfl gasped as Joshua’s head turned eerily toward him as though it was not connected to his body.

“Joshua! What brings you to London? You look well.”

With chin cocked to the side in a most unsettling way, Joshua hissed, “And you look like a murderer.”

Wolfl’s chin fell and he backed away in time with Joshua’s slow, methodical approach. “Murderer? What is this you speak of? Who has told you such? Lies!” He glanced to Ludovico.

“Not a murderer?” said Joshua, almost too quiet for the room to hear. “Just a thief, then?”

“Thief? Not I! Have you been dipping too deep into the wine? You always were one to wear it heavy.”

He backed Wolfl into the wall, ignoring the absurdities as he continued on his intended path of confrontation. “Dussek said for me what I could not, for I had wished to hold my tongue and let the heavens judge you, Joseph. And now he is gone, all because I did not battle my own fight.”

Joseph gulped and stammered, “Dussek? I’m not sure what you mean exactly. Poor fool. I had heard he…”

“Enough!” Joshua’s voice was a low roar, but wisely mindful of the sleeping servants. “You stole my sonata! Indeed, my very heart! And then you killed our friend in cold blood, just to hide your own thievery and preserve your sickly earned reputation by a society who does not see what you really are! How could you do it, Joseph? After all the time we’d been friends?”

“I… I…” Wolfl’s eyes darted to Ludovico as he did not want the truth to be told outside of those who knew it. And with someone of such high standing in society as Ludovico! “It is clear your friend believes you. But it is a lie, Joshua.”

Joshua sneered. “Do not lie to my face, for it does not serve you! Come now, Wolfl. Now is your chance to clear your conscience and tell all. Or will you not do right even at the end?”

Ludovico called out, “You can let down the play. Your audience is not one of fools. I had seen the sonata years previous to your swiping it. I know what you really are.”

Wolfl’s eyes flicked from one to the other. No escape, he discarded his act and shifted from confused innocence to jealous hatred for the composer whose cold breath he could feel against his skin. “You,” he sneered. “Joshua Cohen, with all your talent! Sitting in a room with no one to hear the notes! You would never have done what I did. You had not the courage to bring out to society what belonged to it. Inspiration is never owned by just one man. It is given him to share with the world! And I? I have never written anything like you. Why has MY muse not seen fit to bestow upon me the notes yours gives you nearly every day? When I have the ambition to steer the ship ashore–why is there no wind given for my sails? You have no idea what you have and your cowardice makes me sick!”

It was Joseph’s truth that he was not truly gifted, and kind-hearted Joshua felt pity swell for his old friend’s plight, so much so that he stepped away several paces, his head falling slightly. He looked tired and Ludovico watched in surprise as Joshua’s voice came softer, lighter, as he spoke. “Joseph…I do not know why it is that music comes to me so readily. I have always heard it in my heart and I am not to be blamed for what you have not been given. It’s not right to take the light of another only because it did not shine out from you. Do you not see how that is wrong?” He tilted his head to the side, his soft brown hair falling gently on his forehead, his eyes imploring understanding.

But Wolfl’s features darkened and he laughed. “Wrong? There is no wrong! There is only what we do and what we do not. Do you think there is a God judging us from a throne above our meager heads?” His fingers danced through the air. “Sitting amongst the clouds with angels flanking him?” He snickered and dropped his arms. “Idiot! Look at you weakening even now. That has always been your greatest flaw, Joshua. Your tender, shy heart. What good has it done you? None at all! Even as you come to confront me, you do not show the spine that Dussek showed when he did such. And he was fat as a swine! Could not believe there was that much bravado inside of all that blubber!”

Joshua’s eyes flashed hard again. “So, you admit you killed him?”

Wolfl sneered and whispered, “The wine killed him.” Sickened by the face before him, Joshua flashed with vampyric speed to materialize nose to nose. Wolfl gasped, eyes widening. “What the devil?”

“Admit it,” Joshua said with steel in his tone.

“What the blasted hell has happened to you? What is wrong with your eyes?”

“Admit it,” Joshua repeated again, his fangs sharpening inside his mouth. His lip curled.

Wolfl saw for the first time that what stood before him was no longer a human of normal flesh and blood. Terror spilled ice through his veins and he barked, “Alright! I killed him. You know that I did. Please go now! Go! Whatever it is you are! Leave me!”

His thirst took hold and Joshua smiled the ugliest smile Wolfl had ever seen. His fangs lengthened to violently sharp points as he spoke. “Heaven may not judge you. But I do. I’ve come to give justice.” Wolfl cringed into the wall as though he wished to become it. Joshua whispered, “Jan was our friend, but you do not know the meaning of the word. You only take and kill to capture that which was never meant for you! This–your death, Joseph–this is for Jan.”

Wolfl tried to run for the door. Joshua allowed him to try, and flashed to stand in front of him again, enjoying the cat and mouse. Wolfl tried to yell, but Joshua quickly clamped his hand over the human’s mouth and tilted its head so that the pulsing veins in its neck were exposed and begging. Joshua sunk deep his fangs into the flesh, drinking the man’s life from him. Crying out against Joshua’s hand, Wolfl tried to fight the vampire off. Ludovico laughed in the distance, a sound that sounded faint over the roaring tide of nectar pouring into Joshua’s mouth. They both heard the heartbeat slowing under the man’s thrashing. The attempted screams became moans as the body went lax. When the beats slowed to the point just shy of death, Joshua dropped the body and let it fall to the floor. He kneeled to face the gaunt eyes that stared back at him dully. “London is about to be much improved.” He held the eyes until they glazed to glass. He listened to hear it, but the heart had stopped and Joseph Wolfl–two months to the day of Dussek’s death–was no more.

Joshua rose and turned to Ludovico who walked to him. He cut his own skin and dropped blood onto the wounds, both vampires watching as the holes vanished and the blood with it. Watching to make sure the evidence was tended to, he said, “I quite enjoyed that.”