Read The Maestro's Maker Online
Authors: Rhonda Leigh Jones
to Florentine and Claude-Michel, where I could see them better. When I climbed in, I
looked at Florentine from head to toe as I passed. She smiled up at me, pretending to be
friendly. At that moment, I wanted to slap her face, but not as much as I wanted to slap
Claude-Michel’s for the amused smile he gave me.
François, I wanted to kill. He snickered audibly and took the place next to Claude-
Michel.
Once everyone had settled, Claude-Michel began asking about Florentine’s wedding
and found she was betrothed to a man who was “rather old.”
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“Florentine!” her brother admonished. “He is a very wealthy man, and a good friend
of Papa’s. And he has always treated you well. Remember the doll he gave you that you
adored?”
“I was eight years old, Bernardo. And he was thirty-two. I do like him, but—”
“You agreed he would make a good husband,” Bernardo said.
“I’ll be
bored,
Bernardo.”
“You won’t be bored. He’ll take you to the theatre.”
She sighed heavily and stared out the window.
Bernardo looked at Claude-Michel nervously. “You have to excuse my sister,
Signore
.
She has such romantic notions.”
“But romance is the great adventure of life,” Claude-Michel said, with a long look at
Florentine. She stole a glance at him out of the corner of her eye. Even from here I could
see her pretending to restrain her smile.
We camped in the forest in late afternoon. Jean built a fire and took care of the horses,
while Claude-Michel went into the forest to relieve himself. I wondered if he really
needed to, since vampires do that far less than regular people, especially when blood is
scarce.
I decided to follow him. “I need to speak with you. Claude-Michel,” I said.
“Then speak,” he answered without stopping.
At first I stopped, unable to believe his continued arrogance. Then I caught up with
him and blocked his way. “Claude-Michel. I don’t understand you. One day you beat me.
The next you woo me, then you give François rights with me. Now you won’t even speak
to me.”
He stopped and regarded me sternly. “It is, my lovely pet, because of your childish
insistence that I conduct my affairs differently. You will accept my attentions as I choose
to give them. You will accept punishment when it comes, and—yes—you will obey
François as well. I grow tired of your childishness. Angelique accepted my habits, and
you will do the same.”
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The comparison to his wife felt like a slap. I looked away momentarily. My lips went
slack. I blinked back tears. “Claude-Michel...you can’t give him rights over me.”
“I can,” he said. “And I must. François needs something to occupy him or he becomes
impossible.”
“Yes,” François said from behind Claude-Michel, examining his fingernails. “He
does. Especially when he has his hair pulled and is shown blatant disrespect.”
Claude-Michel did not seem surprised at François’ sudden appearance. I suspected he
had known he was there all along. But at his words, Claude-Michel furrowed his brow at
me. I could not stop myself from giving him a horrified look.
“What is this?” Claude-Michel asked. “What is he talking about, Chloe?”
François kept his eyes on me as he approached. “Yesterday evening, while I was
getting ready to go out, she pulled my hair and spoke to me in a very threatening manner.
She demanded submission because she turned us into what we are.”
Claude-Michel considered François’s words. Anger darkened his eyes and made me
afraid. “Is this true, Chloe?”
I fought to control my expressions, but I knew he could see the panic inside of me.
Even though I knew it was a stupid thing to do, I gave François a beseeching look, but he
answered it with one of blissful ignorance. It seemed grotesque in the forest.
I nodded and lowered my eyes. “Yes.”
“Would you do such a thing with me?” Claude-Michel asked in low tones.
I shook my head frantically and approached him. “No, Claude-Michel, I would
never—”
“Then why would you do it to my oldest friend?”
I stopped, not daring to touch him. My lip trembled. “I—” I began, but did not
continue.
“And now he has the right to punish you for it.”
A tear escaped my eye, but I ignored it. “Please, Claude-Michel—”
“I want to hear nothing more from you about this,” Claude-Michel said with a wave
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of his hand. “François, why did you not tell me sooner?”
“I understood she was upset, and at the time wished to make light of it. But as time
wears on, the roles you and I both play become more and more clear as the elder members
of our family.” He emphasized the last word. “For Chloe’s sake, I should give her the
benefit of my guidance...only in addition to yours, of course.”
Claude-Michel smiled. “And for François’ sake as well?” he said.
François gave him the same look of wide-eyed innocence. It chilled me to the bone.
“Were we alone, François,” he said evenly, “I would instruct you to give Chloe the
benefit of your guidance this moment, as I watched. At the moment, however, it is not
wise to alarm our hosts. When we have grown to know them better, we will make an
example of Chloe.”
I panicked. “What are you saying?” I asked, but a look from Claude-Michel silenced
me.
François turned to Claude-Michel with raised eyebrows. “Grown to know them better,
Claude-Michel?”
“But of course, François. You cannot allow such an opportunity to pass. We are in
need of a more permanent food supply. We cannot live from prostitutes forever. And they
are such a lovely pair.”
“Take them...by seduction or by force?” François asked.
He turned to me. “It is possible, yes?” he asked. “The bite of the vampire has
intoxicating effects?”
I nodded. “The bite made most of Gunnar’s crew docile. Gunnar fed from each of
them on a regular basis. To keep them loyal, he said.”
“So you see,” Claude-Michel said to François. “We can win their cooperation by
feasting.”
“And if the bite doesn’t quite have that effect?” François asked.
“Then we keep them by force,” Claude-Michel answered.
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Since Claude-Michel’s plan involved me seducing Bernardo, I sat beside him in the
carriage the following morning and suggested Florentine stretch out on the extra seat
behind the men.
“It is very comfortable,” I lied.
François gave me a self-satisfied look and inched closer to Claude-Michel. I raised
my chin at him to show I didn’t care, and turned to Bernardo. I knew Claude-Michel
watched the whole thing for his own amusement, but I wondered exactly what amused
him so—François’ obvious play for his romantic affections, or my reluctant acquiescence
to his wishes in the face of certain punishment. Perhaps it was Bernardo’s squirming.
I periodically touched Bernardo’s thigh or a lock of his hair, pretending to do so
absently. He eyed Claude-Michel as though expecting him to run him through on the
spot. Later that day, when we stopped to rest the horses and stretch our legs, Claude-
Michel pulled the boy aside. I thought Bernardo would wet his breeches. “Please humor
my wife,” I heard him say. “She becomes intolerable if she doesn’t have the opportunity
to practice her charms.”
“Oh,” Bernardo said. “I will try.”
After that, he relaxed a little and began to open up, even telling a story. Florentine
refused to sit in the back, instead insisting on sitting on the other side of her brother,
across from Claude-Michel. She became flirtatious and happy, except when the wedding
was mentioned.
“How old is this ancient man?” Claude-Michel asked.
“Forty,” the girl said with a pout. I put a hand over my mouth, but couldn’t stifle
a laugh as both Claude-Michel and François’ smiles froze momentarily on their faces.
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Florentine noticed as well, and spoke quickly. “But he is not like you. You are much more
handsome than he is,” she said, leaning forward and looking from Claude-Michel to
François. “And there is something about you that makes you seem so alive, so virile.”
“Florentine!”
“It’s only a word, Bernardo,” she said crossly. “It isn’t a sin to compliment our guests,
is it?”
“They are not our guests,” Bernardo whispered between clenched teeth. “They are
men hired to protect us.”
“They’re counts,” she said. “And we didn’t hire them. You’ll have to forgive my
brother,” she said. “He’s a prude.”
That was fodder I couldn’t pass up. “Is he?” I purred.
Bernardo glowered, ignoring my fingers playing in his hair.
“You’re very beautiful,” Florentine said to me suddenly.
I looked up. The earnestness in the girl’s wide, blue eyes made my chest tighten.
When Florentine gave me a hesitant smile, I willed my lips not to move. I did not want
to like her. I knew what was in store for her and I could not afford to feel pity. We needed
food too badly.
“Thank you,” I said, and turned back to Bernardo. “See?” I said, pouting on purpose.
“Your
sister
likes me.” At that, he seemed to relax a little.
“She is right,” Bernardo said. “You are beautiful. You are a very lucky man,
Signore
du Fresne.”
“Yes,” Claude-Michel said. “Beautiful and talented.” He looked at me with approval,
which made me feel warm, even though I knew he was doing it for Bernardo’s benefit.
When it was time to stop for the evening, Bernardo excused himself and went into
the woods. Claude-Michel gave me an urgent look, so I followed him while François
distracted Florentine with a bat he had spotted.
I moved easily among the dark trees, vaguely aware of the beauty in the shadows.
Tonight, we had stopped later than we had the night before and so the forest floor was
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darker—black to the eyes of any regular human. But my eyes detected layer upon layer
of darkness, each existing in its own plane. The crescent moon caused the trees to cast
a veiny network over everything, so that the forest appeared to be a whispering, organic
net. Shapes slithered and darted through the trees. I could hear the rustling of creatures in
their burrows, and the wet, rhythmic sounds of human organs jostling just ahead. Those
were the sounds that drew me on, as the urge to chase became a living thing within me.
Bernardo’s warm, yeasty smell became pungent. We were linked as quarry and hunter. I
was marked, just as he was, unable to escape the fate that Gunnar had chosen for me. I
remembered the last time I had run through a forest, and felt glad I was now the one who
pursued.
Habit made me pull my tongue back into my mouth as my fangs grew. My stomach
growled and the spot between my legs stung with an excitement I had not known before
the change. And then I saw him.
He stood with his back to me, pumping his organ furiously with frantic little pants.
Silent as the shadows, I crept up behind him and clapped a hand over his mouth.
“Bernardo,” I purred, as Claude-Michel had purred my name.
For a moment, he stood still. I thought he might try to break from my grasp, but he
did not move, not even to let go of his erection. I slid my free hand beneath the fabric of
his shirt, running the palm over his soft belly, and pulled him tightly against me. He was
no taller than I. Reaching a vein wouldn’t be difficult, but I knew Claude-Michel would
not be pleased if he were not the one to master the boy.
“You may scream if you like,” I said, and removed my hand from his mouth to slide it
into his breeches and find the smooth flesh of his
derriere
. He drew in a violent breath.
“
Signora
du Fresne,” he whispered. “What are you doing here? Where is your
husband?”
“He is occupied. I wished to speak with you...in private.”
His hand trembled, but began to move slowly along the shaft. “I have to go back. My
sister needs me.”
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“
I
need you,” I said. “Have you ever been pleasured by a woman?”
“Yes,” he said, somewhat indignantly.
“Not one like me,” I said, and made him turn around. Crouching in front of him,
I took his hand away and slipped my mouth around the slick head of his cock, which
stiffened even more.
“But your husband,
Signora
—”
“He cares nothing for my body, only my money,” I said, pumping the base of his
member as Gunnar had shown me. “He doesn’t care what I do.”
The boy moaned and fell back against the tree as I worked with my hand and mouth
to bring him close to climax, then shifted my attention to the tight little sac between his
legs. There were footsteps in the woods I knew only I could hear. When I saw Claude-
Michel watching from the shadows among the trees, I drew Bernardo’s breeches down to
his ankles and lay back on the leaves. He gave up his resistance then and eagerly pulled
up my skirts, giving me a brief look of surprise when he discovered there was nothing
under them.
“
Signora
,” he said in the same tone he’d used to admonish his sister. Then he pushed