CHAPTER 28

CHAPTER 2 8

INTERLUDE

A dish served cold

I DON'T KNOW how long I sat on the floor of that dark cell with Rosetta's head in my lap. Anastacia had left after delivering her hellish news, and I spent a long time fighting with the guilt of what I had done. But gradually my will took over. There was nothing I could do to bring back Rosetta, but I could avenge her death.

For a week I waited while I plotted and planned. During that time Anastacia, no doubt with the help of Tomasso, had obtained two new captives, both younger and more malleable than I had been. I was invited to Anastacia's room to partake of them, and while I had no desire to be in her presence, I couldn't deny the appetites that now ruled me. Like it or not, I needed blood, as well as the accompanying sex. Having to bide my time and play nice with Anastacia and Christopher was the hardest thing I had ever done, but I couldn't chance them figuring out my intentions.

On the seventh day, I happened to be downstairs when Christopher approached me, wanting to know if I would like to accompany him on a hunting expedition into town.

"Anastacia means well with her little captives," he whined, "but I crave variety."

Since the only place I wanted to accompany him was to his own grave, I declined the invitation, but it gave me an idea. Perhaps it was time to put my plan into motion. I waited until he had left and was sure Anastacia was busy in her room with her new captives, then stole out to the stables.

Giovanni was alone there, having dismissed the stableboys for the night. "I need a horse," I announced when I entered.

He frowned, eyeing me up and down. "I don't believe my mistress wants you to leave."

I stepped closer, letting my expression echo my opinion of what he had done to me in the field and how he had manhandled Rosetta. "I'm not asking permission."

"Well I–"

I didn't give him the chance to finish. My hand flashed faster than he could track, the blade I had stolen from the kitchen slicing across his neck. He grabbed for the wound, which I was certain was fatal, and sank to his knees.

"You won't…" he gurgled, fighting to speak, "…get away with this."

I offered a cold smile. "I already have." I pushed my shoe against his forehead and kicked him over before stabbing him in the heart. I didn't need to do it since he was dying anyway; it just felt good. I owed that much to Rosetta. I bent over him and dipped a finger in the blood pooling on his neck, bringing it to my lips for a taste.

"Not even worth eating," I muttered as I wiped the blade on his clothes before saddling a horse and walking it out of the barn.

Franco was tucked inside his hut when I approached the gate. When he spotted me, he ran out to no doubt prevent me from leaving. I didn't wait for him to speak, just jammed the knife into his chest, before yanking it out and slicing his throat. I shoved his still-twitching body back inside the hut then opened the gate and mounted the horse to head into town.

All too easy.

After that, the ride into the city was uneventful. With no other travelers on the road, I made good time, arriving just past the dinner hour. I was tempted to visit my father's house, to let my parents know that I was alive, but then I thought about what that would mean. Could I bring this version of me into their lives? I had no idea if I could control my new appetites around normal people. Since my conversion into this life, I had only been exposed to the staff of the manor and Anastacia's captives. The thought of causing harm to anyone in my father's household was almost as unbearable as what I had done to Rosetta. No, better they believed me dead.

Instead, I headed straight for the bishop's palace, going over my story in my head again. I had to sound convincing for this to work, not that I thought it would take much effort on my part. From what I knew of the bishop, he was more than willing to ignore facts in the pursuit of his zealotry.

When I arrived at the palace, a servant answered the door. I told him I needed an audience with the bishop immediately, that it was a matter of life and death. I guess I was convincing enough, because the man showed me to a spacious holding room and bade me wait while he consulted with his master. I paced, tamping down my doubt. This had to work.

"What can I do for you, young man?" a thin voice asked.

I turned, recognizing the bishop from his visits to the cathedral where my family worshipped. I schooled my expression, adopting a mask of frantic humility. "Your Excellency, forgive my intrusion on your evening, but I come on a matter of great importance."

"Yes, so my manservant informed me. What is this matter that you disturb my prandium?"

"Souls are at stake."

"Souls?"

I leaned closer to him and lowered my voice, as though I didn't want to be overheard. "I speak of the devil's work."

"What do you mean?"

"Witchcraft."

I caught the gleam in the old man's eyes. It appeared the rumors I had heard about him were correct. He pulled me to a nearby couch and bade me have a seat. "Tell me everything."

So I laid it out, all that I had contrived–my capture, a household staff held against their will, blood sacrifices. I painted a picture of the most depraved circumstances I could think of, causing the old fanatic's eyes to light up with glee.

"How did you get away?" he asked when I was done.

"I waited until she was otherwise occupied, then snuck out and stole a horse to come here. Your Excellency, the people in that house, the innocent lives she has attempted to pervert. It is…unchristian."

"Indeed. Witchcraft always is."

"Can you help us? I don't wish to leave them there at her mercy. "

He patted my hand. "You are a brave soul to come to me. Tell me where this house is, and I will assemble a party for a raid."

"There is no time. I can take you there tonight."

"Tonight?"

"Would you rather lose another soul by waiting? She sacrifices them under the stars and…" I paused for effect, "drinks their blood. She claims it keeps her young."

"Sacrilege!" He thumbed his chin, as though considering my proposal. "How many men do you think it would take?"

I pretended to think. "She is very powerful. I would imagine you would need at least six, and chains and a strong carriage to hold her."

"Yes, yes, you're quite right. Give me an hour to prepare a raiding part. In the meantime, you are welcome to my kitchen to dine."

"That's very gracious of you, your Excellency, but my stomach is so tense that I could not tolerate food right now."

"I understand, son. If you're comfortable, then you may wait here."

? ? ?

It was closer to two hours before the bishop had assembled his men and the necessary accompaniments to carry out his raid. Two carriages were readied, one for the bishop and his priest, and a prison wagon to house Anastacia once she had been restrained. I didn't know the extent of her power, but I was certain it didn't include breaking out of iron manacles and chains. Of course she would resist, but we had the element of surprise on our side .

The return trip was much slower due to the heavy carriages. Six men armed with swords and knives, obviously more likely soldiers than clerics, rode behind me, ahead of the carriages. When we arrived at the property, I went into the house ahead of them, as we had agreed. Lucia appeared when she heard the door open, surprised to see me standing in the greeting hall.

"Where have you been?" she demanded.

"Out," I replied simply and made my way across the hall and around the corner where I could watch the proceedings without being seen.

She was about to return to her quarters when an insistent pounding sounded at the door. "Who could that be?" I heard her mutter before making her way to the door. When she opened it, the bishop stood there in his vestments, surrounded by his men.

"Can I help you?"

"Do you know who I am?" the bishop snapped, his dark eyes imperious. It was obvious he was in his element now. He didn't give her a chance to answer. "I wish to speak to the lady of the house."

"She is indisposed at the moment," Lucia sniffed haughtily.

"Do I look like I care? Fetch her to me at once or I will send my men in after her." As if to emphasize the point, he pushed past her to enter the greeting hall, his men fanning out behind him.

It was the first time I had ever seen Lucia's composure crack. "I will go see if she is able to meet with you."

"No," he replied. "You will not return without her."

Lucia huffed and drew herself up. "I would sooner oppose you than my mistress. "

The bishop smirked. "Careful where you place your loyalties, madame. You do not want to get on my bad side." He leaned closer, his presence commanding. "Now do your job and fetch your mistress."

Lucia didn't back down, and I thought for a minute the bishop was going to have to arrest her as well and send his men through the house to find Anastacia. Then she smiled slyly and nodded. "Very well. I will let her know you are here, but you are making a grave mistake."

"The fact that you see fit to warn me of that proves that I am not," he replied.

She turned and scurried off across the greeting hall toward the staircase. I smiled to myself; I could just imagine Anastacia's reaction when the housekeeper knocked on her door. The woman really was caught between two opposing wills. I just hoped the bishop's confidence was well-placed, because Anastacia would not give him a second chance.

It was several minutes later when Lucia reappeared, her head held high. "She is on her way," she said, turning back toward the stairs.

When Anastacia entered the greeting hall, she was wearing a red dressing gown and an expression of pure malice. She stopped when she spotted the bishop, and I watched the emotions play across her face as she stalked across the expansive room.

"Your Excellency, to what do I owe the pleasure of your visit at this late hour?"

The bishop obviously wasn't fooled by her attempt at hospitality. He turned his head toward his soldiers and two of them stepped forward and rounded Anastacia. It was then I saw the chained manacles dangling from one of the soldier's hands.

"You call yourself a Contessa?" the bishop demanded .

She nodded hesitantly, her eyes tracking the men. "That is my title. My father was the Conte de–"

"Spare me your false credentials," the bishop interrupted drily, causing Anastacia's eyes to flash with anger. I wondered when was the last time someone had cut her off mid-sentence. He nodded at the man behind her, who reached out and grabbed her wrists before she could pull them away. I knew she was strong–I had felt that unnatural strength surging through my own body since my conversion–but she was unprepared for the swiftness with which the man restrained her or the number of reinforcements waiting if he failed. Before she could react, he had the heavy manacles fastened around her wrists.

"What is the meaning of this?" she demanded, no doubt still certain she could charm her way out of her predicament. I knew from personal experience how strong her powers of persuasion were, but a man as fanatical as the bishop was probably immune to her sexual charms.

He stepped closer to her, the fires of righteousness burning in his eyes. "Contessa Anastacia, or whatever your name is, you are under arrest for the crime of witchcraft."

For a second she looked shocked, then she threw back her head and laughed. "Witchcraft? Surely you must be joking?"

The soldier behind her yanked on the chain, pulling her arms taut behind her. The bishop was unaffected by her indignation. "Just in case you decide to call upon your dark magic to help you…" He nodded to the second soldier, who reached around her head to slap an iron heretic's fork around her neck, closing the clasp and hooking the chain to the one around her wrists. The twin spikes of the fork bit into her neck and chest, limiting her motion for fear of impaling herself. "This should hold you in place. "

Her eyes narrowed, her expression at once feral. "You are making a huge mistake. I will–"

"You will what?" he sneered. "You will be tried for witchcraft, and when found guilty, you will be burned at the stake."

A third man approached her with a dark hood. She looked around, her eyes frantic, then spotted me standing off to the side, a satisfied smirk on my lips.

"You!" she spat as the hood was lowered over her head and cinched around her neck. "I will destroy you! I will destroy all of you!"

With her effectively restrained, I stepped out from my hiding place, wanting to see for myself when they loaded her into the wagon.

"Take her away," the bishop ordered as Tomasso dashed into the hall.

"Contessa!" he shouted, lunging for her. The men pushed him aside and started to lead their prisoner away. "You can't do this!"

The bishop looked at me. "Who is he?"

"One of her servants. His mind has been twisted by her. He should be fine once she's gone."

"Are you sure she hasn't turned him to her ways? There is room in the wagon for him."

I thought about that. I owed Tomasso for his part in our capture, but that was a debt I wanted to collect myself. "She captured him when he was but a boy. I'm sure once he's away from her influence, he should be no threat. Besides, placing him in the same wagon with her would provide her with a willing accomplice."

He thought about that. "Perhaps you are right. I leave him to you for now, but if he shows any sign of reverting to her ways, I expect you to deliver him to me. Witchcraft is the devil's work."

"Yes it is," I agreed guilelessly. "And you have my word, your Excellency. I will question the staff before dismissing them and see to it that anyone still holding with her practices will be brought to your attention. We can't let this plague spread among God-fearing people."

"No, we cannot, but send the staff to me so that I might question them. The guilty will pay, and the innocent may prove their loyalty to God by testifying against their mistress." He stepped forward, shaking my hand. "You're a good man, Julianus. You've done the Lord's work here tonight."

I watched as the soldiers chained a hooded and shackled Anastacia inside the barred prisoner wagon and locked it shut. Their horses surrounded it as they made their way out of the courtyard and down the driveway toward the road to town.

Once they were gone, I turned to face Lucia and Tomasso.

"How could you?" Tomasso snarled at me.

I ignored him for the moment and focused my attention on the housekeeper. "Are you outraged? Feeling in the mood to avenge your mistress? Or do you want to put all this behind you and get on with your life away from this place?"

"She will be back," she spat.

I shrugged. "Very well." I stepped closer to her and pulled the knife out of my waistband. "Is she still more important than your life?"

She glanced at the knife warily, then inhaled and brought her eyes up to meet mine with a defiant toss of her head. "She will have your head if you harm me."

I chuckled mirthlessly. "Have it your way. "

I didn't give her a second chance, reaching up and slashing the blade across her throat in one smooth motion. Her eyes widened in disbelief as she clutched at the wound and dropped to her knees.

"What have you done?" Tomasso shouted as he bent to help her.

"Only what needed to be done," I replied, not recognizing my own voice.

Lucia gasped wetly and tumbled over onto her side, her blood pooling on the stone floor. The coppery scent stirred my hunger, but I pushed the odious need aside. I could answer those appetites after I had accomplished my goal tonight.

Once the housekeeper was dead, Tomasso stood and backed away from me, his eyes frantically scanning the room for an escape. My smile was icy as I advanced on him, twirling the bloody knife in my hand.

"She'll be back," he croaked as his heels hit the wall.

I shook my head and tsked. "Poor Tomasso. Do you really think she cares about you?" I snatched his neck in my grasp and yanked him closer, my eyes boring down into his. "She cares only for herself. But you…" I tightened my grip on his neck, "…you had to tell on us. Had to send that swine Giovanni after us." I dug my nails into his flesh, his eyes bulging out. "Did you think that made you the hero?" I shook him, watching his head loll back and forth. "Did you think about what she would do to us?"

Part of me wanted to drag him outside and lash him to the bower with the vines like I had been, but I was too impatient for that. I wanted this over with so I could leave this place and move on with the sorry excuse that had become my life.

Still, the threat would make his last moments a delicious torture .

"Have you ever been taken to the garden?" I asked softly.

His eyes widened in fear. "W-wait. I can be useful to you. You need captives…"

He disgusted me. "The only thing I need from you is your last breath."

The knife went into his gut like butter. It wasn't a quick death, not like Giovanni's or Franco's or even Lucia's. It took him a while to bleed out, and I watched every moment play out on his face.

"I want mine to be the last face you see before you enter Hell," I told him.

When he shuddered his final breath, I grabbed him by his collar and dragged him across the room and down the hall toward the dining room, where I lifted and tossed his body up on the table. Then I went in search of the rest of the staff, who were cowering in the kitchen, obviously aware of what had transpired since my arrival back in the house this evening. I didn't care about the bishop's edict where they were concerned.

"You are all free to go," I announced. "The gate is open. Follow the road into the city."

They looked at each other warily, then back at me. "We have no one there," one of the maids said.

"Would you rather stay here and wait for Christopher?"

That was the other thing. I had planned for Anastacia's capture, but what could be done about Christopher? I doubt he would have been as easily subdued by the bishop's men, especially when he saw what was happening to Anastacia. Which meant I still had to deal with him, and I didn't know what form that would take. How would he react to my current reign of terror in the house? If I was being honest, I didn't think he would care about the deaths I had caused to the staff, but what about Anastacia's fate? They were friends and lovers, going back years, possibly centuries. Would he feel the need to avenge her, to rescue her, or would he shrug it off like the heartless bastard I suspected him to be?

Not that I was letting him off the hook. He was just as much to blame for mine and Rosetta's fates as the rest of them. But I accepted the fact that my vengeance on him might take a while, if I even survived the night to enact it.

The women servants and the two stableboys seemed to have come to a mutual conclusion.

"We'll leave," the girl who had spoken before said.

I nodded. "You'd better go now before he comes back. When you get to the city, go to the bishop's palace and tell him where you came from. The church will provide sanctuary."

I saw no reason to elaborate further. They skirted around me and scurried out of the room, leaving me alone in the silent house. I spotted a bottle of red wine in the kitchen and grabbed it and a glass and made my way back to the dining room. Once I had lowered myself into a chair, I propped my feet up next to Tomasso's body and uncorked the bottle, pouring myself a glass.

That's where Christopher found me several hours later. He stepped into the room and circled the table, reaching out to trail his fingers through the cooled blood on Tamasso's chest.

"Did you kill him?"

I nodded, finishing off the wine in my glass.

"Seems a waste of good blood."

"I have no desire to dip my cock into that."

Christopher chuckled. "Touché. I suppose you're responsible for Lucia, Franco and Giovanni as well."

"I am."

"And where was Anastacia while all this is happening? "

"In the bishop's custody. She's to be tried and burned as a witch."

"My, my," he tsked. "You are a devious little shit, aren't you?"

I set the glass down and glared up at him. "If I were you, I'd go back to whatever hole you crawled out of."

"And if I don't?" Christopher replied, his eyes glittering salaciously.

"The next time I see you, I will kill you."

He leaned over, his face inches from mine, and laughed. "You can try, pretty boy, but you won't find me as easy to dispatch as Anastacia."

"We'll see about that."