The Maestro's Maker (19 page)

blade against his back. So he kept an eye on Claudio instead. Claudio picked up his

own wine and handed François the poisoned glass. “Tell me, my
friend,
” Claudio said

significantly. “What are these changes that have come over you? You have not been

yourself these past months.”

“I’ve told you everything, Claude-Michel,” he said. “Now that our lives are different,

I want to show my love for you.”

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“Why do you suddenly want this, hm?”

François sighed heavily. It seemed as though something in him wilted. “I have always

wanted it. I did not take action in the past, because of Angelique. And your children.

Now, I see no reason to restrain myself.”

Claudio’s eyes glittered menacingly. I watched from the corner of the couch, with

my feet under my body, ready to spring away at any moment. “When I was in
La Piuma

Nera,
” Claudio said, “that albino fiend said something very interesting. He said he knew

all about you, François. Of course, I didn’t have the opportunity to speak with him further

about it.”

“I don’t have any idea what he meant,” François said. “That man is evil. He would

have said anything.”

“Drink your wine,” Claudio said darkly. “Or I will pour it down your throat.”

François drank it quickly, keeping angry eyes on Claudio. Finished, he set the glass

down hard, cracking the base. “There,” he said. “Anything to make you happy.”

Claudio drained his own glass and went to François, undressing him roughly. Victoire’s

eyes grew wide, as I’m sure my own did, but he held his sword steady. François’ eyes

widened as well, but the next moment he tried to touch Claudio, who slapped him hard

across the cheek a second time. François gave him a bewildered look.

Without warning, Claudio went into the bedroom and returned with his riding crop.

François laughed. “A vampire can take so much more than a mere mortal,” he said.

“A vampire can give so much more than a mere mortal
…mon ami
,” he said and struck

him savagely across the shoulders. François fell to his knees and seemed powerless to

rise again as Claudio whipped him until lines of blood criss-crossed his back.

I heard Bernardo and Florentine whispering in the other room, curious about what

was happening, while Pierre implored them in French not to come in here. It was wise

advice.

“It appears your plan would have failed anyway,” Claudio said. “As your sleeping

potion has had no effect on you. The next time you do something like this, I will flay you

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alive.”

François looked up at him. Claudio threw the crop to the floor beside him and headed

for the door.

“Where are you going, Claude...Claudio?” I asked.

“To have my dinner,” he said. “I will return shortly. Don’t let him bleed on anything.”

With that he went out and slammed the door.

I looked at Jean and discovered he was looking at me as well. “Why don’t you go

with him?” I said. “He is not thinking clearly.”

Jean nodded, sheathed his sword, and followed Claudio. I hoped he was moving

slowly enough for Jean to catch up. Then I looked down at François, who was just lying

there, looking at nothing in particular, his eyes shining with tears.

“Help me get him to the couch,” I said.

François shook us off. “I can walk,” he said crossly. He lumbered to the couch and

collapsed face down, still looking at nothing.

“I’ll get a cloth,” Victoire said, and disappeared into the bedroom. While he was

gone, I inspected François’ wounds.

“What are you trying to do?” I asked, feeling genuinely terrible for him.

“I am trying to make him love me,” he said.

“And you know him so much better than I do. Even I could have told you this wasn’t

the way.”

When Victoire returned I bathed the blood from François’ wounds. Except for

twitching his back from time to time, he didn’t react at all, though I know it must have

hurt very much.

“You are very good at that,” Victoire said, cocking his head and smiling at me. I tried

not to notice what a beautiful smile he had. It was strange to be surrounded by so much

male beauty.

“Thank you,” I said.

He took the cloth away and put it on the table, then picked up our two full glasses,

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and began walking toward the bedroom. “Come with me,” he said. “We should give him

space to rest.”

I obeyed, feeling ridiculous for shivering in the presence of a man who was not a

vampire. But he was a du Fresne, and that made all the difference.

He led me into the bedroom and shut the door. “There is something I am curious

about,” he said, going across the room and sitting in the reading chair. He crossed his

legs and regarded me with a much different expression than I had seen from him. It was

fraught with a stern challenge.

“What is it?” I asked, staying where I was, sipping from my glass.

“It is obvious you still enjoy wine,” he said. “Do you still enjoy other things as

well?”

He seemed so much like Claudio in that moment that I nearly gasped.

“Yes,” I said.

“Tell me something else,” he continued, sipping from his own glass. “Has he punished

you yet?”

The question startled me. My mouth went dry. “Yes,” I whispered.

“Do you like it? Being with a man who does these things, I mean.”

I had to drop my gaze then. I did not know how to answer a question like that.

“It’s a simple enough question,” he said, standing and putting his wine on the dressing

table without taking his eyes off me. He moved toward me slowly, like a cat stalking prey.

“Do you like being with a man who takes what he wants…and punishes disobedience?”

I could no longer make myself look at him. I wanted to flee the room. My fangs had

again begun to grow. “
Monsieur
,” I said, as he took my glass from me and set it next to

his. “I am with your brother—”

“Do you think my brother hasn’t enjoyed my wife on many occasions?”

I swallowed. I did not know how to respond. “I…did not know you had a wife.”

“I do,” he said. “But she is not half as beautiful as you.”

“That’s a terrible thing to say,” I told him.

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“It is true. Our marriage is an arrangement. And I know my brother will not mind

sharing his vampire beauty with me. He has already shared you with others, yes?

François?”

“François is not interested in women,” I said.

Something twitched in Victoire’s face. Then he forced himself to smile. “Of course.

But I am.”

And with that he took my face in his hands and kissed me roughly, cutting his tongue

on one of my teeth. He did not seem to notice, but invaded my mouth, pushing me toward

the bed. I pulled away. It seemed far more difficult than it should have.

“Victoire, you should not tease vampires.”

“I am not teasing,” he said, removing his blouse to show off a thin but muscular

physique, and hair more sparse than his brother’s. There was something dangerous in his

eyes.

“I could kill you easily,” I warned.

“But you won’t,” he said, and pushed me onto the bed, lifting my skirts and penetrating

me quickly. I looked into his face, astonished. He looked at me with such arrogant

intensity, I wanted to slap him. The little smile on his lips especially made me want this.

But any power I had with him, such as the power to make him stay with his carriage at

the
marchesa’
s manor, was gone. It had perhaps never been there in the first place. He

was Claudio’s brother, after all.

He took me hard. I wondered if it was to impress me with his mortal strength, or

whether he was simply demonstrating his dominance, but it didn’t matter. His thrusting,

and the smoky look in his eye, excited me. For a moment, I desperately wanted him to

be a vampire so he would be able to take what he wanted from me without question, to

make me fear him.

He was, apparently, thinking similar thoughts.

Victoire maneuvered me to the middle of the bed and lay on top of me, breathing into

my ear, teasing me with the smell of his flesh and the throb of his veins. I could hear the

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rush of blood inside of him. My fangs were fully extended. I wanted a taste.

“Make me as you are,” he whispered. “I want to be a vampire.”

I stopped moving and pushed him up off of me. He looked at my hand, flaring his

nostrils, then looked into my eyes. “What are you saying?” I asked.

“You heard me.”

“I can not. And I won’t.”

“You will,” he said, squeezing my shoulders painfully.

It didn’t take much strength to throw him off me. He landed on his
derriere
and

looked around, surprised. Then, his face dark with anger, he stood. By then I was on

my feet and facing him. “I am not in phase, Victoire. A vampire cannot make another

vampire unless she is in phase. Which I am not.”

He nodded and pressed his lips together, then looked at me with a sheepish smile.

“I’m sorry, I…got a little over excited. You will forgive me?”

I looked at him warily, but nodded. “I forgive you. But I think I’d better go to bed

now. I’m sure Claude-Michel will not be in the best of moods when he returns.”

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Victoire continued to travel with us and François continued to sulk. We arrived at

Claudio’s manor several weeks later, long after midnight. It seemed too still. I shivered

as Claudio gazed up. When I looked at him, I had the strangest sensation I was looking

at a ghost. Jean stopped the carriage in front of the door, and Claudio got out, instructing

everyone to come with him.

François did not move. “I will help Jean with the horses,” he said. Bernardo and

Florentine looked at each other.

“No,” Claudio said. “You wanted to be by my side. That is where I want you now.”

François looked around uneasily, then nodded once and tried to smile.

I stepped out of his way as he climbed from the carriage. “This place is yours?” I

asked Claudio.

“Yes,” he said. “Draw your weapon,” he told François as he drew his own.

François looked at him strangely. “What?”

“We don’t know who may be in there,” Claudio said impatiently.

“Oh. Yes,” François said, and drew his rapier. Claudio opened the door and led the

way into the house.

“Bernardo, light that,” he said, meaning the candle stub in the brass holder by the

door. Within moments, shadows loomed in the corridor. François looked around wildly.

“You were the last one here,” Claudio said. “You will help me discover who did

this.”

François nodded. “Yes, Claude-Michel,” he said.

Claudio prowled the house, looking as though he were ready to run through anyone

he discovered there, but we found only one empty room after another. Claudio paused in

the parlor, waiting for Jean’s return, keying the piano. “We had so many conversations in

this room,” he said.

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“Yes,” François agreed. “Many.”

I thought it was strange that François was being so very quiet.

Florentine and Bernardo kept close to me. “It is a beautiful house, Claudio,” I said.

“
Merci
,” he muttered. The front door opened. He strode into the corridor, brandishing

his weapon.

“It is me,
Monsieur
,” Jean said.

“Come on,” Claudio said, and headed for the stairs. “We’ll make sure no one is

upstairs. The house has been empty for a long time.”

He made me remain downstairs with the feeders while he took François, Victoire and

Jean upstairs. It wasn’t long before he called me. There was so much emotion in his voice

I thought I must be hearing things.

I was not prepared for what he had found.

Claudio was in one of the upstairs bedrooms, staring at a dusty bed. At first I didn’t

know what I was looking at, then the frail form of a girl took shape. I thought it must be

a ghost or a vision. Then it moved. When the vision opened its eyes, it didn’t appear to

see, though the candlelight made them sparkle like jewels. A look of confusion passed

over the face. My heart beat rapidly as her eyes settled on Claudio, and then grew wide.

“Papa?”

Tears filled my eyes for them as Claudio went to her, touching her forehead with a

tenderness I had never before seen from human or vampire.

“Are you a ghost?” she asked.

“A ghost—” he repeated. “Oh, my beautiful flower.”

“They said you were dead, Papa.”

“Who did, little one?”

“Monsieur Villaforte. He said you’d been killed and that your body was cut to pieces

by angry peasants. We buried you next to Gabriel.”

Claudio clenched his jaw. His voice came out strained. “Monsieur Villaforte told you

this?”

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She nodded. “He said he had to leave, but that he would be back.”

“Where is your mama?” he asked.

The girl’s lip trembled. “She died weeks ago. The sickness—”

“Weeks...she died weeks ago?”

She nodded, coughing. “If you’re not dead, where have you been?” she asked when

she’d caught her breath.

He bent over and gathered her in his arms. She looked like a skeleton. “Oh,
papillon
,