Chapter 21

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

éTIENNE

November 1, 1765

Rue des Oubliés

"Is everyone okay?" Daphne asked.

Murmured assent came from all except Philippe, who remained unconscious on the floor with several bleeding head wounds. I made my way to him and tore several strips of fabric from his absurd gold waistcoat, then used the ties to bind his hands and feet behind him.

With perfect timing, Father Clarence roused himself from the floor.

"Oh! Is it done? Is it over? Is the demon gone?" the priest queried.

"No thanks to you," I growled.

Daphne interceded before I could wring the scrawny priest's neck. "Father, if you would be so kind, please take the Comtesse de Brionne upstairs and back to my carriage. I need you to bring it here so we can move Philippe discreetly. Besides, I'm not sure how long we've been down here, and I can't chance us not making it to the carriage before dawn."

"I'm certainly not leaving you alone with him ," Charlotte mumbled. "I cannot believe I married this monster."

"I will be fine, Charlotte. étienne is here with me. Hurry now! I don't want to remain here a moment longer than we have to."

"Allow me," I offered, escorting Charlotte and Father Clarence up the stairs. They both clung to my arms as I navigated my way through the blackness. From the top of the landing, I could see a worrying pink blush through the open front window. A new day was upon us.

I rejoined Daphne in the cellar, and we hauled Philippe upstairs together. We sat in the bookshop, nervously aware of the uncomfortable silence that stretched between us. Finally, I could stand it no longer.

"Daphne, are you all right?"

She turned to me, but I doubted she could see much in the gloom of the shop. I, on the other hand, could see her as perfectly as in the light of day.

Her hair had tumbled out of the elaborate coiffure and her pale gown was stained with blood and filth. Her body sagged with exhaustion and her eyes glittered with unshed tears. She was staring out the window at the lightening sky, chewing on her bottom lip.

"How can I live with this?" Her voice was a whisper. "Everything that happened…all of these horrors…they were all my fault. People are dead because of me, étienne. Charlotte's marriage is over, and her future is… I don't know if she can bear the scandal. Asmoday is gone and Philippe's capture will prove your innocence to The Order, but how much of a difference did it all make? Paris is still rife with plague and I fear for the people. If a solution isn't found—if the king doesn't do something, I believe your uprising will indeed come to pass."

I walked over and reached for her, then thought better of it and dropped my hand. Asmoday's cruel words rang through my head. She didn't need yet another man pining for her, especially after everything she'd been through. Unsure of myself, I cleared my throat.

"When I was turned, it was not by my choice," I began. "I was staying with a friend in Budapest and we went out one night—drinking, gambling, carousing. There was a beautiful woman who caught my eye and I followed her back to her home. She attacked me—bit my throat and nearly drained me. As I lay dying on the floor of her cottage, she offered me the choice; die there and face my eternal judgment, or drink from her and live forever. I could not speak. I was too weak to tell her, but I wished for death. I knew I would face demons eventually and it didn't matter that I would face them that night or a thousand nights hence. She took pity on me, though, believing someone of my roguish nature would consider an eternity of sin a blessing. She forced me to drink her blood and I became a vampire."

Daphne's tears spilled down her cheeks, but I did not reach to brush them away. I did not trust myself to touch her, fearing I would never be able to let her go.

"When I returned to Paris some time later, I'd become accustomed to my abilities, but I feared the judgment of my family and friends. I was in Paris when my father died—not abroad, as Josephine believes. I'd come home but was too afraid to return to my old life. My father died alone while I hid myself in a basement eight blocks away. Not a day has passed that I don't regret my cowardice."

Daphne touched my arm and I stiffened. Immediately, she pulled away.

"I'm sorry," she said.

I sighed. "I tell you these things because I carried on. The things that haunt us never simply go away, Daphne, but we are made stronger as we learn to bear them. Philippe's actions are not your fault, but you will have to live with them. Lives may have been lost in the balance but think of all the lives you saved in your fight for truth; mine, Charlotte's. Hell, even Father Clarence's. The countless others who would have fallen prey to a weak man with a powerful weapon. Let that knowledge be your strength."

She considered my words and we watched the sky soften through the window.

"étienne, what Asmoday said down there about you—about us…"

"Lies designed to provoke. Nothing more," I said, cutting her off. She nodded, but I could have sworn I saw a flash of something like disappointment in her eyes. It was gone in an instant. My heart clenched.

"I will ensure that your name is cleared of any charges within The Order," she said brusquely.

"You think they'll believe you?"

She shrugged. "I will present my case to them and request another assignment. I only hope that I can use my position to do what's right for Paris. I believe I have the power to affect some change for the better, even if it is small."

"Eradicating the vampire menace?" I said, a smile breaking through my melancholy.

She laughed. "More like…rethinking where the threats lie, seeking truth before administering justice, finding a cure for the plague and the grain blight, convincing the king to cease alienating the vampires and the bourgeoisie."

"Careful, Duchesse, lest the aristocracy hear your liberal words," I teased.

She beamed at me, eyes darting to my lips, and I would have faced a thousand demons to kiss her then. A muffled groan came from the bundle that was Philippe and I growled and kicked him. A low rumble echoed in the alley before us, heralding the arrival of the carriage. I hauled him up and slung him over my shoulder, then made a mad dash for the safety of its dark interior.

I threw Philippe on the floor and sat across from Father Clarence. Charlotte took the seat to my left and Daphne climbed in last.

"So," Charlotte said brightly. "Are we all going to recover at Chateau de Champs-sur-Marne ?"

Daphne blushed. "Certainly, you are all most welcome if you wish to stay with me."

Father Clarence inclined his head. "Thank you, Madame, but I must decline. I have a congregation to attend to and a mass to prepare for. If you'd be so kind as to convey me back to the Basilique Saint-Denis , I would be most grateful."

Charlotte's piercing gaze bored into me. I shifted uncomfortably.

"Thank you, but I must also decline. My home is better suited to my uncommon needs."

"But the bed in the wine cellar!" Charlotte protested. Daphne elbowed her and glared.

"Hush, Charlotte!"

I cocked a brow. "You've kept the bed in the wine cellar?"

"I haven't had time to move it," Daphne defended. "I'll get around to it eventually."

My resolution to give her up wavered slightly. Was there a reason she hadn't moved the bed? I watched her cautiously, warming at the stubborn blush that stained her cheeks. She studiously avoided looking at me.

Quiet descended on the carriage until we reached the abbey. Father Clarence made the sign of the cross over Charlotte and Daphne, and kissed their hands. He eyed me warily, then smiled and shook my hand.

"May the Lord bless and keep you," he said as he stepped out. "Do remember me to The Order, Madame!"

Daphne promised to do so, and the carriage trundled on in silence, Daphne refusing to meet my gaze and Charlotte staring at me like a bug in a bell jar. When we neared my chateau, I coughed awkwardly.

"I dread the thought of leaving Philippe in your hands, Duchesse, as capable as they are. Would you permit me to hold him in custody at my own home until The Order can be informed? I assure you he will come to no other harm in my care."

Daphne's brow furrowed. "But in the daylight…"

"I have a very secure room and a number of able servants to stand guard. I would feel much better if you ladies were allowed to rest knowing that he was not under the same roof, at least until he stands before The Order."

Charlotte frowned at the unconscious man tied before us. Then, she hauled off and kicked him in the stomach again.

Seeing this, Daphne winced. "Yes, you're right, étienne. He'd probably be safer in your care, anyway."

The carriage came to a full stop outside my home. A footman and my butler came out and helped me carry Philippe inside, taking care to avoid the early morning sunlight. As desperate as I was for Daphne, I did not spare a backward glance when I entered the hall.

I locked Philippe in a small, empty storage room in the lower level of the house. To ensure his confinement, I hefted a large bookcase in front of the door and instructed three men to stand guard at all times.

Finally able to be alone with my thoughts, I went to my room, stripped naked, and fell into a heavy, dreamless sleep.

When I awoke the next evening, it was to an exaggerated pounding on my door.

"Yes, yes—I'm awake, damn you!" I tripped out of bed and grabbed my dressing gown just as the door burst open.

My butler, Robert, stumbled in on the heels of Dr. Van Helsing, who pushed her way inside my bedchamber as if she'd been in my home a thousand times. I eyed the curvy, enigmatic doctor warily.

"Good evening, Monsieur l'émissaire," she said with a polite curtsy.

"My apologies, Monsieur," Robert said. "The lady was most insistent that she see you immediately. She would not be detained."

I nodded and dismissed the suffering man. "Thank you, Robert. All is well. You may return to your duties."

"I am sorry to be so forceful, Monsieur, but I do have other patients to attend to." Van Helsing bustled over to my bureau and started removing a series of instruments from her reticule.

"There must be a misunderstanding, Doctor. I did not send for your services. As you can see, I'm perfectly healthy. I'm sure you are aware, but I'm able to heal from most injuries with rest and blood." I went to the wash basin and splashed some water on my face.

"Nevertheless, I have been retained with the express purpose of ensuring your physical health," Van Helsing said. "I aim to do my job to the best of my abilities."

"I don't recall offering you employ?—"

She snorted a little laugh. "No, no, of course you did not! You wouldn't, would you? Now, hold out your arm, please. I need to examine your blood."

"Doctor, please. I've had a very taxing few weeks and I'm in no mood to play games. Who hired you to look after me, and to what end?" I held out my arm, anyway. Van Helsing took it and began turning it this way and that, finding a good place to draw blood.

She regarded me with an expression of pity. "Why, Madame de Duras, of course. As to what end, I'm sure I cannot say. I can only guess that she cares for you and wishes to ensure that you remain in rude health, and since I am the very best vampire doctor in all of Europe, she paid me a full year's wages to periodically drop in on you every month or so—for check-ups and the like."

"That is unnecessary," I said. "I don't need a nursemaid."

Van Helsing tutted. She poked and prodded me in what was a very thorough, and thoroughly embarrassing, examination. Unsurprisingly, she proclaimed me fit and packed up her bag with haste. As she made to leave, she handed me a vial of virgin blood.

"Just in case," she said.

"Wait. You…you said that she cares for me?" The supposition flustered me, but I didn't know why. Of course she did. She was a good person, and we'd become friends—of a sort. Forced proximity often had that effect on people. I knew she cared for me, but ever the narcissist, I wanted to hear Van Helsing admit it aloud.

"A great deal, I should think. My services do not come cheap, Monsieur, and she did not bat an eye at the continued cost of maintaining your well-being." She looked at me like I'd gone soft in the head. "Surely you knew all that, right?"

"Well, the Duchesse is a wealthy woman. Such sums are probably trivial to her," I reasoned.

Van Helsing laughed again, her gaze perceptive. "My, my! What a fool love has made you, Monsieur."

"It is not love," I said reflexively. "Merely infatuation. Or, at best, a friendship united by shared trauma."

"I did not examine your eyesight, Monsieur, but perhaps I should have. I did not think you were blind." Van Helsing inclined her head with a grin and promptly hurried from the room, leaving me alone with my astonishment.