Chapter XII. First and Last and Always #3
“‘I looked about me then, searching for my fellows. I could see neither my master nor Percival, but I glimpsed Aleks on the dancefloor, stalking light upon her mark’s heels.
Wulfric had warned us to make no play here, that we were to follow our marks to their nest. But if I did nothing, if this Victorine were to …
“‘I turned back to the nobles and found Laurent already gone, my fingers clutching the balustrade so tight the marble cracked. I glimpsed blond hair, red silk, disappearing up the stairwell. And without thinking, I pursued, not slipping but stabbing through the crowd now. I lost sight of them, too short to see above the crush, tempted to batter my way through. But out of the throng a familiar face surfaced, dark eyes dancing behind a devil’s guise.
“‘Celene, he said, grabbing my arm.
“‘Percival …
“‘Aleks and my marks have caught themselves a pair of lambs, he whispered. They take them off to tumble, we will follow. Find the master and tell him we—
“‘Oui, I will tell him.
“‘Celene—
“‘I will tell him! I spat, snatching my arm loose. Go, before you lose them!
“‘On through the crowd I swam, reaching the stairwell door only to find it locked. Breaking it open would draw attention, and cursing now, I hunted for another way up. Bodies all about me, warm and cloying, the music suddenly too loud, the laugher too shrill, too many people, too much. I finally found another stairwell, flashing upward, heels ringing on the timbers. Yet I’d no knowing of the manor’s insides, finding myself turned about in a long hallway in what looked entirely the wrong wing.
And above the murmur of the revelers below, I heard it then, as I’d heard it a hundred nights prior, bloody tears on my upturned face, distant and painfully beautiful.
“‘Laurent’s piano.
“‘Out through the window I flew, crawling across the roof. My master’s voice was ringing in my head—that we must be careful, that God was watching. But louder rang the thought that Laurent was in danger, that monstress in his room, and most, that he was playing not for me, but her. It feels small, I know. But I did not understand then what I do now. And though a few years dead, in truth, I was still little more than a child in my heart.’
“‘It doesn’t feel small, Celene.’
“I glanced up as Dior spoke, pale blue eyes shining.
“‘It feels human.’
“And behind her, swelling in the reflection and pressing upon the porthole glass …
“That was thy failure, Wulfric whispered.
“‘I crawled onward,’ I told her, ignoring him.
‘Over the estate roof. It had begun snowing, tiny crystals dancing to the notes of Laurent’s song.
But the music suddenly stopped, and the dread filling that silence was a boulder in my belly.
Those last few feet were a thousand miles, swinging down onto the balcony at last and peering through the curtain crack.
“‘They were sat at his piano, Laurent’s fingers stilled upon the keys. But Victorine’s hands were busy, one tangled in his golden hair, the other thrust deep into his britches, and her mouth was at his throat, cravat and collar loosed.
Laurent’s head was thrown back as she drained him, the groan spilling from his bloodless lips a rusted dagger to my heart.
And at the sight, all traces of God’s fire in me were extinguished, leaving me only with hatred’s flame.
And consumed by it utterly, I kicked through the doors.
“‘Timbers split, glass cracked, curtains torn aside. The vampire gasped, lifting her mouth from Laurent’s punctured throat, but I’d no time to savor that deathly perfume.
“‘Who are y—
“‘Victorine’s question became a gasp as I flashed toward her. She rose from the stool in a blur, Laurent tumbling to the floor, limp and bloodless as I hissed.
“‘Get your hands off him.
“‘I wish I could say I gave her a grand death.
Or at least a quick one. But in truth, it was neither.
As we crashed upon each other, clawing and hissing and cursing, I was dimly aware of calls in the night, of alarms rising above the dim babble of the guests, the sudden silence of that string quartet.
Victorine was stronger than I, but my whole body was aflame now, vision drenched red with the fury that she had hurt him, she had hurt him, and Almighty God, I would see her dead for it.
I smashed her into the floorboards, hard enough to shatter her skull.
She clawed aside my mask and caught sight of the thing beneath; a rime of fear chilling her eyes, a bubbling whisper on bloody lips.
“‘Please, st-stop—
“‘I twisted her head so she couldn’t look at me, the crunch of her spine ringing in the room as I plunged my teeth into her neck. And I was drinking then, swallowing all she was and would ever be, shivering at the thought that the blood in her had been his.’”
The Last Liathe paused, a cold and silent age. The Marquis watched as she lifted one slender hand, running it gentle across the bow of her flawless lips.
“We could … I could not truly find words for it, Historian. Describing communion to one who has not partaken is like … trying to describe a choir at hymn to a deaf man who has never been to church. The thrill of it. The … fierce and terrible joy of it. To feel the breath of God upon the back of your neck. To know the kiss of heaven to your furrowed brow. To save as you destroy. Redeem as you condemn.” Celene shook her head.
“I have stood in holy houses, I have seen the red hand of God at work upon this earth, but I tell you now and true, I have never felt as close to the Almighty as I did in that moment.
“My first communion.
“‘She struggled at the end. That final second.
And then Victorine Ilon was gone, utterly consumed, locked within me, blood and mind and soul.
A fire flooded through me, immolating and baptizing, purifying and redeeming, and though I was senseless, there on my knees in her ruins still I spoke; the only words I knew were true at the time.
“‘By this blood shall we have life eternal.
“‘A groan shook me then, tearing me from holy bliss. Laurent was on his belly, gasping and bloodless. I rushed to his side, cradled his head in my lap as I pressed my hand to his throat. But though she’d drunk perilously deep, Victorine hadn’t drained Laurent to dying.
Frail and pale, my songbird clutched my hand as he whispered.
“‘Celene. Y-you s-saved me.
“‘Always, I whispered. You are not alone, Laurent Durand.
“‘He smiled up at me, there in my arms, setting my dead heart singing. But more than that smile, the fire of communion filled me now, the fire of faith besides. All of me burned with it; a honeyed rush so blissful I was almost overcome. This was purpose. This was power. This was salvation, just as Illia had promised all those centuries ago. But louder now, I heard it again—the clamor of alarm, of shouting guests and running boots. I realized these were not gens d’armes rushing up to Laurent’s boudoir, but out to the snow-clad courtyard, the scent of burning torches rising above the cries upon the wind.
“‘Vampyr!
“‘The Dead, by God! The Dead are among us!
“‘My comrades, I realized. Ma famille. A scream pierced the night, agonized and full of terror, and I knew something was terribly wrong. Laurent gazed up at me, sightless but unerring, the scent of his blood hammering upon my temples.
“‘I’ll not tell them, he breathed. You s-saved me. I …
“‘He knew, I realized. What I was. Perhaps he’d always known. And though my first thought was to ask him why, hand pressed to heart, he told me all with four little words.
“‘I love you, Celene.
“‘If I’d breath, it would have failed me. If I’d a heartbeat, it would have faltered. If I was still a mortal girl, small and fragile and brimming with hope, I’d have melted then.
“‘But I was not.
“‘I must go, Laurent. I’m sorry.
“‘Before you do … He tried to rise, heart thumping. I’ve never asked. Not since that first night. But every night since, I’ve dreamed it. If there are no more secrets between us …
“‘He swallowed then, blind eyes gazing up at me.
“‘May I … see you?
“‘He lifted his hand. Bloodied and trembling.
The shouts were rising, and I could hear men upon the stair now, coming to check if the young master was well.
The look on his face—that beautiful face—was so filled with hope and love I could not tell him no.
But I knew no love on earth would survive if I let him see what I truly was.
And so, I reached to my fallen mask and bound it about my face.
Holding back bloody tears as I whispered.
“‘Be swift.
“‘He was gentle as lambs. Softer than baby’s breath. Blood-slicked fingertips questing over porcelain, which in truth was no cooler nor harder than my immortal flesh beneath. His touch roamed my temples, my cheeks, my lips, all of me ashiver, a moment of such intimacy as I’ve never known.
“‘You’re cold, but …
“‘He shook his head, wonder welling in those empty eyes.
“‘You’re beautiful.
“‘He moved as if in slow motion, and it seemed all the world about us fell still. Rising from my lap, drifting close, drenching me in the perfume of his blood. And pressing soft lips to my mask, he kissed me. Chaste. Brief. But in that moment, I’d have traded the rest of my forever to have it last but one breath longer.
“‘I must go. But I’ll return, I promise.
“‘I love you, Laurent sighed again. And I—
“A sound cut me off then; a choking, smothered sob. And looking across Dawnseeker’s hold, I saw Dior, bloodshot eyes fixed on me.
She was crying, we realized. Weeping, to talk true.
Cheeks sopping wet and the boards beneath her soaked through.
She clenched her jaw, waving me off as she whispered. ‘I’m sorry, I…’
“The Grail shook her head then, drawing one shaking breath.
“‘It’s so beautiful. And so sad.’
“She sniffled, mopping her eyes on her sleeve.
“‘D-did you tell him you loved him back?’
“We frowned at that. Looking down at our empty hands.
“Tell her what ye did, liar.
“‘I told him that I—’
“The song of ship’s bells crashed in our dark, cutting me off before I could finish—though in truth, I’d no idea what I was about to say. We looked skyward, heard running feet across the decks, the bells ringing fiercer now.
“‘Alarm! ’ came the cry. ‘All hands, ALARM!’
“‘Shit,’ Dior hissed.
“We snaked to our feet, eyes locked as we helped Dior to hers.
“‘Company.’”