Heart Of A Vampire - Valmont's Trinity Part 2

Valmont frowned. This didn't make sense. In one second, he picked up the scent of vampire, the honeyed flavor of a Coeur eternel, the same type of vampire Darelle was. Yet in the next moment, he detected the aroma of a non-vampire immortal, the scent of which strongly resembled regular humans, only more potent.

He peeked at the youth's neck. Had he fed on him? However, the flesh was whole, with no telltale puncture marks sealed by saliva. That didn't mean much. If he was immortal, the punctures would have healed immediately.

On the other hand, if this beautiful young man was, indeed, a vampire, Valmont wouldn't have fed on him. Leaning back with one hand in the gra.s.s, he contemplated the golden-haired male. He was just about to reach out and touch him when the man stirred. The muscles of his graceful tanned body rippled with the movement.

Slowly, the young man sat up and raked one hand through his luxurious mop of golden curls. He blinked what proved to be huge blue-green eyes under a heavy fringe of gold lashes, and looked up. His gaze locked with Valmont's. Relief flooded his face. "Grace a Dieu. You're all right."

Valmont stared at him. Could it be he was permanently stuck in another realm of consciousness? "I beg your pardon?"

The youth's smile faded and he turned his whole body in the gra.s.s, seemingly unaware of his state of semi-undress. "Serge sent me to find you. He was worried because you'd been gone so long. He said his mind link to you wasn't working."

Valmont continued to stare. "I'm sorry. I hate to be rude-"

"Oh, pardon." The young man held out a hand. "Philippe Mareau. Darelle sent me and a group from CE headquarters to a.s.sist you with the cleanup and restoration of your home."

A s.h.i.+ver pa.s.sed down Valmont's spine at the mention of Darelle. He remembered at the last moment to accept the offer of a handshake. "Enchante. It's most kind of her to have done that." Philippe's handshake was firm and conveyed kindness and Valmont's body stirred again with desire. He bit back the urge and released the young man's hand. "That explains your presence here. However, it doesn't explain why you're..." He couldn't finish the sentence and instead indicated Philippe's open trousers and mussed s.h.i.+rt.

The head of golden curls swayed as he looked down. "Oh." A grin came to his sweet-looking lips. He rose to his knees and tucked in his s.h.i.+rt. "Forgive me. I blacked out."

Valmont couldn't help but watch the sinewy muscles of Philippe's arms flex with his movements. "Blacked out?"

Philippe nodded. "Oui. That always happens to me from an intense feeding. When I came upon you, you were in a dream state of some sort. When I touched you, you..."

Valmont frowned. "Merde. I thought I might have without realizing. I'm sorry."

"Don't worry. I certainly didn't mind. You needed it. I'm at your service."

"You're very kind." Okay, so he hadn't minded being fed on. That could excuse it...mostly. However. "If you don't mind my asking, if you're a CE, a vampire. I wouldn't have fed on you."

Philippe raked a hand through his curls. "Only half CE. I'm part immortal. Don't ask me how it happened. It's a great mystere." A tiny grin played about his dusky sensual lips. "And well, truthfully, a delicious benefit to all involved."

Valmont couldn't help but smile. Philippe's charm matched his physical beauty. "Well, Philippe, I do thank you for that. I apologize for my unawareness of your...kindness to me." Guiltily, he omitted the fact that at the time of feeding on this delicious man, he'd been lost in a precious memory of Serge.

The CE bowed his head. "You're very welcome." After a moment he raised his gaze. "Now perhaps you would like to return to the house?"

Valmont nodded. The thought of returning to his home when it had been his prison for centuries did not appeal to him. The only thing that enabled him to bear the prospect, he realized in that moment, was Serge. His oldest friend's presence there brought light into the darkness.

The desire to be in Serge's company hit him heavily. A light pulsing sprang up in the left side of his chest. Merde, he had a heart...of sorts... When Darelle had brought him back across, his internal structure must have been changed and now he, too, was a hybrid vampire-a rare kind of which one of his own proteges was-not completely soulless, yet not completely a CE. He rose to his feet. A sudden rush made him lightheaded and he wobbled.

A gentle but firm hand grasped his arm, steadying him. "I've got you." Philippe's voice was kind and rea.s.suring.

"I don't know what's come over me," Valmont muttered. He wasn't accustomed to appearing weak in front of his kin. "I had quite a surge of energy when Darelle brought me back across. I was fine until I sat down on the rock."

His companion leaned in to him. His lean, strong body provided a steady support as they made their way to the road. "You've been through an ordeal that would have killed anyone else, Valmont," he said softly. "I suppose you need some rest."

The young hybrid vampire's voice eased away Valmont's embarra.s.sment and brought him an odd comfort. "Yes, I do, apparently. However, I don't see how I'll make it back to the chateau the way I feel."

"Don't worry about that. I brought a van." Philippe pulled a cell phone from the pocket of his trousers. "Here, Darelle programmed the number into my phone. I'll call and tell him I found you and that we're on our way back."

Valmont stopped and leaned heavily on the golden-haired vampire. "Thank you."

"Of course." He handed Valmont the phone.

Valmont brightened at the prospect of speaking to his oldest, dearest friend.

Serge waited anxiously at the front door. d.a.m.n good thing he'd just finished redecorating Valmont's bedchamber. Valmont desperately needed rest.

He sighed from his place in the shadow of the huge door. The late afternoon sun was not so strong now and he could stand at an angle that allowed him a clear view of the drive.

Behind him, Darelle's people were hard at work. In a mere few hours, they'd cleaned the great hall so well that one would never guess at the carnage and wreckage that had been there because of the Soldiers. Briefly, he wondered if the rabid vampire slayers would make another attempt at Valmont. The thought angered him and made him terribly weary at the same time.

He reached up and rubbed the back of his neck. d.a.m.n. Stiffness permeated every muscle and joint in his body. Although he'd not been the one in chains, tormented and fed cow's blood-an inferior substance that had, no doubt, wreaked havoc on his lover's system-Valmont's siege had taken its emotional and physical toll on him as well. He sorely wished he could curl up in that giant bed with Valmont and fall asleep holding him.

Such a luxury, however, was out of the question. They were no longer lovers and in any case, his dear friend had been through enough without having to cater to another's needs.

He nearly growled when the van pulled up and he was unable to go out and greet Valmont. It was another torment having to wait in the doorway and watch that lithe G.o.dlike creature a.s.sist Valmont across the bridge to the entry. A sudden nagging jealousy tore at his insides as he observed the way his friend leaned heavily against the blond vampire.

Serge found himself examining Philippe's neck even from a distance to see if, perhaps, Valmont had fed upon him. No doubt that beautiful golden man would inspire the same wild urge to feed in Valmont as he did in himself.

However, as the two drew closer, Serge breathed a sigh of relief at the lack of puncture wounds.

After what felt an interminable wait, Valmont stood in front of him. The bronze skin of his rugged face was paler than usual and heavy stubble lined his jaw and cheeks. His onyx eyes were bloodshot and his body sagged against Philippe's with frightening weariness.

Without thinking, Serge reached for him, gently drew him into the house. Relief flooded him with such force, he had to push back tears. "My friend, I was so worried about you."

Valmont gave him a weak smile, and patted his arm. "I'm very sorry. I fell asleep." He chuckled, though the sound was full of sadness. "Can you imagine? When have you ever known me to sit down for a moment and simply fall asleep?" Without waiting for an answer, he stopped and surveyed the great hall.

Serge draped his arm gently across his friend's shoulders, vividly aware of Philippe's presence close behind them. "They've done a wonderful job, haven't they?"

Valmont nodded slowly. Sadness seemed to envelop him. "Oui. It would appear that my ordeal has ushered in a new era of vampire relations."

Serge studied the vampire's dignified profile. From the moment he'd met Valmont in Prince Vladimir's court, he'd wanted nothing else from his life but to love him. In all these centuries, that devotion still burned deep inside him. He suppressed the overwhelming urge to touch his friend's cheek. "Come," he said gently, "let's go upstairs. I have a surprise for you."

"I must thank Darelle immediately." They were halfway up the stairs yet Valmont felt it unkind to wait to call her. Philippe held him up on one side and Serge on the other.

Without a word, Serge pulled out his phone and pressed a b.u.t.ton, apparently having her number on his speed dial. Valmont took the phone gratefully, aware that his friend kept a gentle, protective hold on him.

Someone picked up on the second ring. "Allo? Serge?"

The familiar female voice sent a s.h.i.+ver through him. "Darelle, it's me, Valmont."

Pause. "Oh, Valmont? How are you? I've been so worried."

"Exhausted, but otherwise fine." He did not want to worry her more with his inner turmoil. She wasn't at fault for any of it. "I'm going to rest now, but I couldn't do so without thanking you profusely first. Your gift of help...is...very generous."

"I will never be able to repay you."

"You don't have to, Darelle."

There was another brief pause where he sensed she was trying not to cry. "How are you finding Philippe? He is a wonderful being. He was a member of Shakespeare's theater troupe."

"Shakespeare?" Of course whoever this Shakespeare was, he must have existed during Valmont's long captivity. The Soldiers had not exactly kept him up-to-date on current events.

Darelle made a tiny sound. "Oh dear, I'm so sorry."

"It's all right. I will have him fill me in."

Sniffle. "Oui. In any case, I sent Philippe because I felt you and Serge would find his company...nouris.h.i.+ng."

He chuckled. "That is certainly the case." In truth, he hoped that Philippe would bestow on Serge the same...kindness...he had on him back in the field. G.o.d only knew his dear friend would need it. "Thank you again, Darelle."

"You're very welcome. Oh, before you go, I just wanted to let you know I've also dispatched some more of my people to your place to act as guards. Place them as you see fit."

Guilt flared in him. He didn't want to accept such a gift from her. However, he was in no position to refuse. Until his weakened condition improved, he could not protect himself or Serge should those f.u.c.king Soldiers return. "I will. Thank you so much."

He ended the call and handed Serge back his phone. They continued their journey up the stairs, during which he relayed what Darelle had told him about the guards.

"I will place them as soon as they arrive," Philippe said.

Valmont nodded to him. "Thank you." After another few minutes of moving slowly up the stairs and down the main hallway, they reached his bedchamber. Once there, Philippe excused himself to be downstairs when the guards arrived.

When he'd gone, Valmont opened his mouth to comment on Philippe's helpfulness when his eye fell on the interior of his bedchamber. He froze.

Gone was the horrific odor of vampire slayer, replaced with the scent of fresh linens, polished wood and new furniture. The huge bed was covered with new pillows, duvets and throw blankets in varying hues of beiges and creams and instead of the heavy velvet drapes. Serge had left the bedposts bare and had polished the twisted carvings to a new s.h.i.+ne.

The stone floors were immaculate, covered with new area rugs, obviously expensive, in beautiful earth tones mixed with splashes of reds and blues. Potted plants flanked the French doors.

"I had some of the CEs pull down the old drapes," Serge said. The new ones were gauzy in several earth tones.

"It's wonderful." Valmont breathed in the scent of newness. "I can't...get over..." Ghostly images of their entwined bodies wrestling about in the bedclothes, candlelight torches illuminating their bare flesh, rose in his mind. Desire teased his groin, threatened to get him hard. Only his guilt suppressed the urge to curl up in the huge bed with Serge in his arms once again. "Serge, this room couldn't be more splendid." A lump formed in his throat and tears stung his eyes. In spite of everything that had pa.s.sed between them, his friend had moved heaven and earth for him to be able to sleep in his room again after six-hundred-plus years of abuse to both it and him.

He turned. The other vampire stood very close, so close that he could feel the heat of his hard, lean body. Serge's face was a mere few inches from his, his sensual lips close enough that he could have leaned in slightly and kissed him. Which he did...on the cheek.

Serge stilled, his head slightly bowed. His clean-shaven skin carried the faint scent of herbs, the spice of sandalwood that teased Valmont's memory of their lovemaking.

Valmont pulled away, afraid that if he lingered...

Serge cleared his throat. As usual, Serge could not suppress his s.e.xual energy, which vibrated around them. His scent, heated from obvious desire, filled the air. "Would you like a bath?"

Valmont moved slowly toward the bed, feeling his friend's hand at his elbow for support. He did not relish the thought of bathing in the modern plumbing that the Soldiers had used his money on so that they could shower and bathe in between torture sessions. Earlier, during his survey of the chateau, Serge had promised to have the bathrooms redone as well. However, that would take more time.

Valmont shook his head as he sank on his refurbished bed. "I don't think so, thanks. Tomorrow morning. I'm just too exhausted." He reached up and smoothed a hand over his closely shorn head. His hair hadn't been this short since his mortal life as a pharaoh in Egypt. He'd always preferred to keep his locks longer, enabling a lover to run his or her fingers through their ebony sleekness. The Soldiers, however, had been forced to shave it nearly to the scalp after centuries of letting it get overgrown, matted and filthy.

Serge knelt before him and slipped off his shoes. The tender gesture sent more spikes of guilt through his chest. "You are not here to wait on me, you know," he said gently.

The other vampire ignored him, instead lifting Valmont's feet and s.h.i.+fting him so that he lay on the bed. He pulled one of the new duvets up over Valmont and tucked him in as if he were a young boy. Then Serge leaned over him and gazed down. His blue eyes burned with tenderness. "I'm just glad you're here now, my friend. Nothing else matters to me." He leaned closer and pressed his lips to Valmont's forehead.

The soft warmth of Serge's lips on his skin sent waves of need through his body and if he hadn't been so absolutely exhausted, he would have been tempted to reach up and pull Serge down on top of him.

Serge's lips lingered on Valmont's forehead another moment before he lifted away. "I'll sit here with you if you'd like."

He took one of Serge's hands and squeezed it. Asking Serge to keep him company now seemed insulting after everything he'd put him through. He shook his head. "No need, my friend. I'll be asleep again in a few minutes." Indeed, weariness felt woven into his very bones and his eyelids already grew heavier.

Serge's thumb brushed back and forth across the top of his hand. Each tiny movement stirred a pang of longing in Valmont's chest. That haunting blue gaze roved over his face, making him feel as if his old lover could see right through him. "Valmont, you don't have to worry about anything. I...love you. I want nothing from you but for you to get well. I swear it."

He lifted Serge's hand to his cheek. "You are most dear to me, Serge." His voice had fallen to a whisper from exhaustion, but before his eyes closed completely, he saw his friend's voluptuous lips curve into a smile.

He'd definitely said the right thing.

Serge held Valmont's hand for another few minutes. He'd always loved to watch his friend sleep. His sire's heavy fringe of thick, ebony lashes rested against his cheeks. His firm, smooth masculine lips were slightly parted and moved a bit with each breath he took. Every few seconds, his hand squeezed Serge's, several tiny pulses of pressure that indicated his state of unconsciousness.

He sighed, wis.h.i.+ng nothing more than to slip under the covers with Valmont and hold him. But he suspected this was the first real rest his friend was able to have in...centuries. He wouldn't disturb him now under any circ.u.mstance.

Serge had wondered a million times through the centuries whether his former lover had thought of him at all during his captivity. He shook his head, willing away his selfish desires. I love you, Valmont. That's all that matters. Whether they could ever be lovers again was secondary.

At least, that's what he'd told himself until he saw Philippe a.s.sisting Valmont into the chateau. In that moment, potent jealousy had burned inside him. Petty, he knew. But it was so unfair that he couldn't go outside with Valmont and Philippe could. Too many opportunities to make love in a sun-warmed glade, or something equally as delicious, lost.

He gently disengaged Valmont's hand from his own and set it on the covers. Sighing again, he let his gaze linger on his friend's face, at peace finally, his bronze complexion restored, his breathing even and serene.

With a promise to himself to check on Valmont in a little while, he closed the door quietly behind him and went down the hallway to his own room. At the doorway, he paused. The room would reek of vampire hunter, as had Valmont's. But there had been no time to do his own room today. Tomorrow.

He stepped through the doorway and froze.

Gone was the odor of the Soldiers, replaced with the spicy smoke of some exotic incense. The old bed linens, too, had been stripped and the giant four-poster bed covered with an array of pillows and duvets in brilliant shades of reds, purples and golds in s.h.i.+ny satins and brocades. Not quite what he would have chosen for himself, but definitely flamboyant and sinfully luxurious. The mere thought brought an image of him and Valmont, naked bodies entwined amid all that bedding, the silk cool as it slid against their writhing...

Who the h.e.l.l could have done this? And in such a short time...

The sound of running water drifted to his ears. He jerked his gaze toward the back of the bedroom where the doorway to the bath chamber was. The water tumbled and roared, the way it did when one was filling a bathtub.

Curiosity won out over suspicion and he made his way to the bath chamber. The door was partially open and steam curled out from inside. He pushed the door the rest of the way open.

Billows of steam filled the marbled room. Disgusting that the Soldiers had been so free with Valmont's money-well, with the money they could find. Serge advanced into the room. Through the haze of steam he saw the flesh color and form of a...man, kneeling by the tub- "What the h.e.l.l?"

A head of golden blond curls turned. Philippe.

Large, blue-green eyes went wide and he stood up. Completely naked...

Chapter Three.