Chapter Twenty-Five
Nicole
THE NEXT MORNING, NICOLE FOUND HER FATHER AND VERIN in the Vampire’s chapel. Part of the house itself, not an external church on the grounds, it was a room Nicole hadn’t ventured into much.
She paused on the other side of the door, realising they were discussing something in hushed tones. She wasn’t planning on hesitating and eavesdropping, until she heard Verin’s words.
‘Were you successful?’
‘Yes,’ her father said.
Unease flipped her stomach. Successful in what?
‘You need to tell them,’ the Vampire said. ‘You can’t keep it from them forever.’
‘You know I’m not doing it on purpose,’ her father said tightly. ‘If it was possible …’
‘I know, my friend, but they might finally need to be told. I don’t know what the other component in the blood is, but if I’m right, it means they’ve used f—’
He stopped abruptly.
While he might not have heard her tread or breath, Verin likely heard her heartbeat stutter.
Nicole pushed the door open, and her father was now halfway down the red and navy runner of the aisle as if he’d been moving towards the door.
It was a large, bright space, consisting of an antechapel in white, tastefully staged with paintings and antiques.
Through a trio of dark wood arches was the chapel proper.
Inside, the paintings continued, the upper walls a soft cream and filled with religious scenes that at first appeared to be Christian, but on closer inspection were pagan.
The altarpiece and chairs were cushioned in crimson, and bronze sculptures of robed women holding lamps like amphoras of fire lined the room.
‘Nicole,’ her father greeted, a normal smile on his face. ‘Are you ready to go?’
‘Er – yeah. We’re just waiting for you, and I wanted to say goodbye to Verin.’
Someone else’s clipped steps sounded from down the hall behind.
Elisabetta.
Her father gave Verin a fond goodbye smile laced with something else and moved past Nicole to go and get his things. She was momentarily distracted by the aftershave he wore. It burned her nose, unusual and sharp, but the painter’s entrance forced her to focus.
Despite the centuries that had passed since she was immortalised, Elisabetta still seemed to favour what appeared to be a Victorian travelling dress. She held a circular case like a hatbox, the scent of pigments and oils gently drifting from it giving it away as an artistic case of some kind.
‘Goodbyes are in order, then,’ said Elisabetta.
‘Where are you headed?’ Nicole asked, forcing herself to be civil and not chase after her father as he disappeared down the hall.
To her left, Verin joined them.
‘I’m going to stay with some friends in Italy. They’ve been pestering me, and I feel …’ She smiled. ‘… lighter, having shared what I’d kept secret all this time.’
‘Good,’ Verin said, reaching for her outstretched hand before cupping it and tapping it distractedly. ‘I know you’ve been wrapped up in this for longer than me, but I’d feel better if you were out of the country, what with the Wake sniffing around again.’
Concern focused Nicole’s mind.
Elisabetta turned to Nicole, a fond smile on her lips. ‘I know Freya believes in you, from wherever she is.’
Nicole swallowed and said goodbye, then she and Verin watched the painter go.
‘I’ll miss hearing you all scamper about the place.’ Verin sighed.
Despite the overheard words that had set her stomach on edge, Nicole smiled. ‘Thank you, for having us here.’
His eyes softened. ‘It’s been my pleasure. In truth, I’ve been growing hungry for something new, and now I must continue with my own quest.’ As if bewitched, his hand went to the vial of pigment Elisabetta had given them, which he’d kept in the pocket of his velvet jacket.
Verin stared up at the altarpiece. ‘Be careful, my dear,’ he said softly.
Nicole glanced at his unique profile – reminding her of a jet-haired Roman relief.
‘I’ll keep working on the blood, but one thing is clear …’ He glanced at her, and there was both worry and revelation in his eyes. He raised the vial. ‘Whatever this blood is, I think it could change more than your lives.
‘And we know what those in power do when a global change is afoot, and a new treasure is unearthed.’
Yes, she knew all too well.