The Past of Gabrielle
If you're wondering, Gabrielle was born in 1631, as a mortal, and these tales start from when she was about 13, and right now are in the presence of being finished. It maybe awhile though before I can completely finish it, so drop by everyonce in awhile to take a look.
She sat in the small side room of the house while her mother entertained a client of hers in the other room. \plain\f2\fs24\cf1 How I wish I did not have to live with this anymore, thirteen years is bad enough\plain\f2\fs24 she wished sitting next to the window that barley any moonlight showed through. As if my a way of granting her wish she heard a loud scream in the other room, coming from her mother, followed by a crack and a thud. The man her mother had been entertaining walked into her room, drunk as can be even so she recognized him to be one of the.
"Elizabeth," for he had once heard her mother yell for her, "I'm takkin' youl fromm thiss place," his worlds slurring together.
"I'm not going to go," she yelled at him having some childhood fear of him, "I won't do anything without my mother."
The drunk man walked over to her grabbing her ruffly with one hand, his eyes taking in her young teenage figure, pausing for a second then thinking better, he took her screaming out of that house. His hands were clamped hard over her mouth, and his grip became stronger and tighter the more she struggled. She flailed her legs, tossed her head, but nothing stopped him, and as by a miracle his hand loosened on her mouth, her biting down hard into it, the blood covering his hand, on her teeth. The bite was vicious, without thinking he brought his other hand up, letting her go and he heard her footsteps on the cobblestones. She heard him coming behind her, this drunken state no longer effecting him, his mine clear with anticipation. His loud steps came closer and closer as she ran along the river side, along the Thames finally seeing an opportunity to be rid of her captor.
Ahead of her was a small hole in the stone wall, just large enough it looked for her to fit through, she ran towards it, then going to her knees to get through. It was too late though and she felt her legs being grabbed and pulled, her body sliding back towards her captor. He pulled her to her feet, grabbing her around the shoulders..
She sat in the boat, England at her back and the on coming coast of France in front of her, she had no idea what was intended for her, but her captor Edward seemed to have only good things for him involved. How many different ways had she already been violated, she couldn't understand how her mother could bare that profession she had practiced for so long.
She remembered her mother telling her once she was the mistress of a great duc, and she had had everything then, living in a palace, then she told me I ruined it all for her when she became with child, me. Never did she give me away like most of the others cause of my father, hoping one day that I would make her a profit. Whatever her mother thought of what would come from it though was now gone, like her chances of returning to London anytime soon.
Edward had walked up behind her, grabbing her ruffling and whispering in her ear," Once we reach Calais I won't have you anymore for myself, that's one thing I will certainly miss, "leaning down, brushing her neck with his lips," They shall love you greatly though, you're even sweeter then your mother. "
She turned around quickly, the rage building in her, scraping her long nails across his face, gorging them into his cheeks, and his blood running down his face over her hands. His eye's flashed full of hatred as he grabbed her ruffly," Someone bring me a whip!, " he yelled at the crew of the pirates, that carried cargo and special people to cover up their operation they carried on along the English Channel. He pulled her to towards the mast, grabbing a length of rope as he walked, tying her hands above her head Pushing her against the mast he tied the rope above her head, and ripped the clothes away from her back that were mostly in rags now, swaying there like a fish on a hook one of the men brought Edward a whip, the blood on his face now starting to dry.
"This will teach you not to defy me again!" bringing the whip down upon her bare back, again and again, until she limped unconscious against the mast.
The pain was so great, and she screamed out
The ship docked, and Edward grabbed her roughly, pulling her now the ramp past the now nicely dressed pirates onto the dock. Her back was still slightly bleeding from the beating she had received but 2 days before, and she gasped as Edward pulled her along by a hand pressed to her back. Out of pain she was forced to follow him through the French city of Calais.
The had landed with the dawning sun, and made there way through the city. Liz, which is what Edward started calling her on the ship, along with the men, was confused slightly my the amount of different languages she heard. She slightly understood French, her mother never having time or care to teach her more of what she knew.
He brought he into an area that didn't hold the best of looks; consequently, it also wasn't in the best part of town. They entered through a door on one of the alley's going into what looked like a kitchen.
"Is Mme. B in?" Edward asked one of the older looking women standing at a stove, cooking something that Liz did not care to know.
"Oui, monsieur, I'll get her."
They stood there in silence for a minute or two when a woman, in her mid-thirties came into the room, it was obvious that she had once been a great beauty that had just aged past her prime. She looked Liz up and down, turning her around gently, and smiling at Edward.
"This is a good one you have brought me, I'm sure that she shall be perfect," Mme. B handed Edward a purse of coins, and he left promptly.
"My dear," Mme. B said turning to Liz, "what is your name?"
She stood still, too proud to lower her stance, "It's Elizabeth, or just Liz."
"Fine, Liz, we shall take good care of you here, but you must work as I say or you shall be put into the streets. Do you know much French?"
"No, only bits and pieces."
"Well we shall also teach you that along with a few other things. Now follow me and we shall change you into some more appropriate clothing."
Liz followed to a small room, packed with dresses, petticoats, stockings, and any other clothing that would be found for a woman in the mid-seventeenth century. She was helped into lavish clothing by a young girl, no more then 10 years of age and finally led to a room where she was seated on a lavish bed. Mme. B soon came in, sitting next to her on the bed, lightly taking her hand in her own.
"Well Liz, welcome to my home, one that is home to many."
The days went by for her, she know didn't know the difference between day and night in her little room, for she barely went out side, except for the occasional errand to some high placed house in the city. Time no longer had any meaning to her, her will was all but taken from her until once day, a little over a year since she had been brought there, she became ill by what she did not know. A few weeks went by of this, Mme. B finally coming to see what it was herself.
It was morning, or Liz thought it was, when Mme. B came. She looked her over, knowing almost immediately what it was, "Liz, you are not ill my dear, it is just that you are with child."
* * * * * * * * * * *
The tears streaked down her face as she handed the bundle over to the peasant women, who had told her she couldn't bare children herself and would take good care of her. Liz kissed her daughter Rachel one last time, tears streaking down her face as the women walked away.
Creatures that lurk in the Night
The year was 1652, and she was walking down the street one dark night, her for once caring to go out. The lanterns lit small areas of the street, but it looked as if the children had been at play; for, over half of them had been blown out. She was on her way to visit a new friend of hers she had met while visiting the dressmaker, a middle born women, raised in stature, everything Liza wished for herself. Her friend did not live in a bad area but one blocked her way there, and she cautiously passed upon it, fearing that any moment a man could pull a knife on her.
She walked by a crowded tavern, one of the drunken men spotting her fiery red hair that had spilled out from under the hood on her black cape, the exquisite emerald green fabric of her gown, and her pale skin, that was almost luminescent in the light that fell from the open down of the tavern. He walked towards her, his feet shuffling on the cobblestones. She was not far from the door; hence, he reached her before she was able to react, "Good evening my pretty," looking her over in the light, "and what a beauty you are." His hands groping at the clasp of her cloak, as she tried to push him away, his drunken breath in her face. She finally succeeded because of the height of his intoxication, pushing him strongly away, leaving her cloak have off her shoulder and the bodice of her dress slightly torn.
\par She walked on quickly thinking of the situation why did you resist, he just wanted what you give others all the time, many of them drunk, why refuse this one. Because he was forceful, but most of the others are too, I'm a whore plain and simple, where or how shouldn't matter. God, what I have sunk too, just like my mother, I swore not too but it didn't change. I shall always be this, most likely coming to the same fate as her, my head being bashed in, falling dead to a dirty floor for the rat to eat. She walked on quickly, giving no other a chance to approach her, finally coming to the house of her friend, safe from all that lay behind until she decided to leave.
"Liza, you look like you have gone through hell, mon dieu, what happened, here sit," ushering her into a seat by the fire.
"Anne, you are so kind," sipping a glass of tea Anne had brought," it was just an encounter with someone, it's over now though. Where's Fritz anyway, I don't see him around?"
"My husband was sent to Dover for business."
She rose to leave, "Anne, you have been so good to me, but I must go."
Walking back, she could have sworn she heard the same pair of foot steps follow her all the way back, matching her pace perfectly, watching her. She remembered that sound once before, she imagined she fell the apparitions breath on her neck, it's hands moving her hair from her neck. She walked faster, hearing it also, breaking into a run, she made it home, not knowing if it followed or not, opening the kitchen door and slamming it, leaning upon it.
"I am so sorry to hear that Liza, but if you must leave you must and Paris is so much more glamorous compared to Calais. I wish you the best."
The night before she left she remembered the feelings of that night that made her decide to leave, and the feelings it had brought up within her.
Les Innocents, appearances are not what the seem
She stood on the balcony that over looked the river, in the distant the bells of Notre Dame chimed midnight, the witching hour. How long had she been in Paris? What was the year even? What was her age for that matter? Time had gone by for her since leaving Calais, the days and nights blending together, with the toll of the bells as the only thing that gave her a sense of time. She remembered though the city was preparing for the birthday of Louis XIV, even though he was currently at battle with Spain. He had been born in 1638, that made the year 1656 and the month was yearly September, that made her 25 she realized, and to her astonishment she'd been in France for twelve years.
She walked out of the house where she worked, and down to the river side, looking upon the water of the Seine as the moonlight shone on it. Wandering away from the river she found herself in the theater district, the Thèatre des Italiens had just finished, the street full of coaches as she passed by, the woman gabbing about the performance to there husbands who yawned at it, wanting more to be in a game of poker.
She walked for she didn't know how long finally coming along the old les Innocents cemetery with it's ancient vaults and somewhere was an entrance to the catacombs that were under the city. She always thought it had this strange beauty to it, the old tombstones and tall trees that shaded it all, no garden to her, held more beauty then this. She was standing, leaning on the rod-iron fence when she heard someone approach, the sound of the footsteps were all too familiar in her head.
Turning slightly she came face to face to face with a man with startling pale skin, more so then her own, the stylish long hair that fell in ringlets of the darkest ebony. His clothes so fine, more then even she had ever seen, but she noticed his eyes, a piercing coal black, with little feeling behind them.
"Bon soir Madame, you seem intently interested in death in seems by you fascination in this place. Not many women share that though, most would walk by here as quickly as possible, their handkerchief held to their nose."
"Monsieur, I am not like most women then, and may I ask what fascinates you of this place, I customarily find myself alone here after dust has fallen."
His smile upon his face, startled her slightly; for, more was meant behind it but she could not understand what. He leaned against the fence looking at her, "nothing really but curiosity of you."
"Moi," she laughed, "now that is something that I do not hear often."
"But Madame, you are a startling figure, you could pierce any mans soul with those emerald eyes, bring any man to his knees just with a smile from your lips, and cause any man to be jealous of any other man caring to look at you. And you wonder why I was curious Madame? I am like no other man in this city, to an extent." His eyes glimmered on those last words causing her heart to beat faster, not knowing what was meant by it.
"Monsieur, you flatter too much for one so unworthy of it."
"Unworthy Madame, no far from that, and let me introduce myself, the name is Nicolas Sanfonx Madame."
She relaxed slightly, knowing that most men that cared to do unthinkable things never gave their full name without stumbling to think of one. As far as she could tell he was not lying, and over the years her abilities in that area had become quite remarkable.
"Monsieur Sanfonx, I am Liza."
"No surname?"
"Non it was forgotten with lack of necessity."
"Ahhh.. I see, well Madame Liza, shall I escort you home; for, I here the bells telling us it is now three, a little late do not you believe?"
"Oui, it is, we are now in Ile de la Cité, n'est pas?"
"Oui, the Cathedral de Norte Dame, is right over there, see the gargoyles looking now upon us from the bell tower."
She laughed at his remark, "Oh yes, I live not far from here, just on the other side of the Seine, on the right bank."
She was escorted to the front of the house the words, La maison chez tous, on a sign by the door," Non, the side door si vous pl\'e2it."
At the side down, Nicolas leaned down, kissing her hand, though in her mind she felt strangely about it, going inside, leaving him there.
The next night she was in her room, when the door opened, like was customary, and
Mme .B came in, a man behind her, but on closer inspection Liza recognized him to be M Sanfonx. Mme. B left quickly closing the door behind her.
"So M Sanfonx, you care to partake in my services, after acting so much the gentleman last evening?"
"Non, actually I came just to speak with you, and I felt this would be the easiest way to do so, at least I figured you would be more comfortable here then next to a cemetery, at least this is well lit."
"Yes, you have a point, but why do you want to talk with me?"
"I just want to know you better."
It had really been late August, her calculations being wrong, and many more times she met with Nicolas, each time he was polite. After the first meeting though, he would mention once or twice that she needed to get out of there, that it wasn't fitting for her. She was growing to like him more, always wondering about him though cause he was so vague on his past, just telling her enough to keep her from asking more.
The day before the celebration of Louis' birthday, the city was all in an uproar, the date September 4, she had been out on the balcony when from below she saw Nicholas coming up quickly.
"Hello Nicolas," she said calling down to him, as he came to a stop below the balcony.
"I need to speak with you, I'll meet you at the side door, is that alright?"
"Yes, I'll be right down."
She came out, Nicolas waiting like he said he would as he led her in the direction of the cathedral de Notre-Dame crossing over the bridge to Ile de la Cité, and finally to the cemetery les Innocents where they had met. Nicolas stopped, leaning on the rail.
"You once told me this place had beauty to it, but would you want to die to add to it? Or would you rather live forever and see the beauty with your own eyes whenever you wanted?"
"Live forever, with this life?" she looked over les Innocents cemetery where he had brought her, "who would want to live my life for that long?"
"But that's the thing, you can change it at any point, you would have eternity to make a life you would want to live. Just would you? Yes or no?"
"I would do anything to get away from this life."
September 5, 1656, Liza stood on the balcony over looking the festivities of the city, la Ville Lumière, the city truly earning it's title. Thoughts swum around her head, she barely understood any of it, all that Nicolas had said to her the night before, she didn't understand why. What was all of that about living forever, he cannot give that to me, he sounded so serious like it was something that was impossible he offered. So far he has been calm and rational, then all of a sudden he speaks of something from a fairy tale. What on earth could he mean.
She was staring out at the stars, the little bits of light swirling together like a painting by Van Gogh, entrancing your mind not noticing that someone had come up behind her. The whole vision disappeared on the touch of a hand on her shoulder, lightly playing with her hair.
"Liza," Nicolas whispered in her eye, "Remember what I asked you about yesterday? I can really give it to you, but only if you want it, you said you wanted out of this life. I can do that for you."
"But how? That's impossible."
He took her by the arm, "We cannot talk here," leading the way to her room, passing by many of the customers on the way. He walked in closing the door behind, locking it and turning towards where she had seated herself on the bed.
"Liza, it's all true, I can give you this if you but ask."
"There must be some catch to something so grand, nothing comes without strings for something so great."
He sat down next to her, taking her hand in his, "No, that is true, and immortality in this way isn't perfect, but I know you could handle it. Would you take it though? I'll give it if you say but one word."
"I want to know what the catch is, before I say anything, Nicolas how bad is this catch?"
"It is not the best, it is easy to say it is a life of servitude to oneself, or to something within oneself that you cannot control."
"I don't understand."
"You will. Just would you want to live forever?"
"Yes," she whispered as he leaned forward, then grabbing her hand, "Damn, come with me."
He walked on quickly, out of the house, and down the street, dragging her quickly behind him, not looking back, just going quickly. "Where are we going?" she would ask, getting no answer. On and on they went, her not knowing the destination, reminding her when she was brought to France 12 years before, Edward tugging at her, as she was helpless.
She began to pull away from his grip, trying to pry off the head that held her so tightly but it wouldn't budge, the fingers leaving marks in her skin. She could see that part of her wrist was turning blue from her struggles, her hand going dumb, finally realizing where she was. It wasn't the river front like it had been with Edward, it was the classy district, where all the rich, snobs lived that had so much money they didn't know what to do with it.
Nicolas pulled her along into a townhouse nearby, slamming the door sharply behind her,
"We should be fine here," he said whispering in her ear. He pulled her into the sitting room, sitting on the couch," This shouldn't hurt much, but I cannot make too many promises"
He leaned forward, his long hair falling onto her shoulder and down her back as she sat stock still not knowing what to expect. She felt his presence near her neck, but not the breathing that she would normally, to her he stayed like that for so long. Until, her felt something pierce her neck, and the sensational feeling, one she could never explain.
Liza Escoffery awoke that evening, and dressed for yet another social function in the quaint town house she occupied with her so-called fiancé, Nicolas Sanfonz. She had been with him since one night, September 5, 1656, and it was now 4 years later, she still looking exactly as she did that night.
She sat at the dressing table, while a servant piled her hair into curls around her face, when the door to her room opened, Nicolas walking in. He signaled for the servant to go.
"Non, Louise reste et finit premier. <No, Louise stay and finish first>
Nicolas shook his head at her orders but knew it to be a small thing and not something to jump on her with. He said down, waiting as the maid put up the last of Liza's fiery red hair, naturally curled, bowed leaving them alone.
"Liza, tonight there is a fête<party/ball> being thrown by le Baron de Chantel, and you are to be as always. I want you to stay near the Baron himself closely, his wife just passed away, and he will probably be looking for company. Mazarin, has been ill and the Baron has been near by through it all. I want you to find out the exact health of the Cardinal, and anything else you can muster out of him. Also, speak with Madame Henrietta, for something is coming up with her, her marriage to the Duc d'Orleans is not as right as it should be for him being the Kings younger brother and she Charles II of England's sister. So you know what I want?"
She rolled her eye's slightly knowing she had not other choice, "Oui Nicolas I understand completely, this is no different then any other f\'eate we have gone to in the past. I'll find out all that I can."
"Bon, now finish dressing, I shall send Louise to help you, we must be gone within the hour. Oh, and one other thing, it might be wise to feed so as you do not get a taste for the Duc that would not be of the best ideas." Shaking his head as he walked towards the door he said back at her, "You really no need to learn some restraint; for, even with those still mortal looking features you can not get by as you do. Not many ever have the chance to identify you afterwards anyway." Then he was gone and Louise had come back in, helping her into the deep red gown, that's color was not of perfect fashion but exceptions worked in her case.
The fête went by as them all, the Duc drooling over her young body as she wished to rip out his heart but her willpower was slightly more then that, and she continued the game of cat and mouse. This isn't any mouse though she thought, as she was informed of what she needed to know and shortly after taking her leave of the aging Duc.
Madame Henrietta normally always had a large swarm of women around her, but this night few were there, and she easily made her light inquiries by listening more then speaking, to the heart struck woman.
Later that evening when she and Nicolas returned to there home, she realized what she had become. All I am is a tool for this bastard to use in his own ways, but look what he had to do to me for it. I do not know which is better, this life or the one I had before. All I know is this one won't end anytime soon, so I have to make the best of it. How am I too get away from this controlling, controlling, ventrue, and one that lives up to the clan name.
The bells of le cathedral de Notre Dame chimed that cold December night of 1661; for, the Cardinal Mazarin had just died the previous day of his long illness. The funeral was to be held the following evening, which Nicolas insisted that they go to.
Liza never did like a funeral, didn't even like death no matter what she was.
The following day they gathered with the numbers of others to watch the ceremony in front of the cathedral, then to the cemetery where he was placed in the vault near the last cardinal, Cardinal Richelieu. The ceremony was long and on going, while Louis himself was getting restless, as he was only 23. Afterwards she dragged back to the townhouse with Nicolas, as she was repulsed by him now, and wish upon anything to get away.
The following day it was announced that Louis was going to take the power of King that he had left upon Mazarin's head since he was a young boy of 7 when his father had died of small pox. From this the whole city was in commotion and Nicolas was called away that night, unable to bring his prodigy along.
Liza sat in the townhouse, as Louisa scurried around doing this and that, I've now been here 5 years, and Nicolas has taught me all I need to know. He stopped telling me things years ago, he just does not want to give up his tool of getting information. Mon dieu he has enough money from black mail to keep him going for a century. He doesn't need me anymore and I don't need him either.
"Louisa, I want you to get me a seat on the post leaving tomorrow evening, while Monsieur is with his comrades of state."
The maid stood still looking at her mistress with disbelief, "Madame, to where."
A look of shock went over her face, not thinking of that part, 'Italy, I that direction, Venice as the final destination."
"Madame, that shall cost quite a lost of money."
"I know, but tell them I shall not pay in advance and I want a single coach, no other people. You shall stay behind, I cannot take you with me."
With that the maid went out, going to the post the next day to put her Mistress 0n it, as Liza sat in the home thinking of freedom packing up a few of her favorite gowns in the trunk. She was looking over the dark red silk dress when Nicolas came in.
"Liza," he yelled, "What on God's earth are you doing!"
She dropped the dress forgetting to look at the time, and turned slowly to her sire.
"I'm putting some dresses into my trunk to be put in the attic, I have way too many as it is, and I can't fish through them everyday."
"You lying slut! You're planning to leave and I won't let you, I won't!" Nicolas walked over to her, grasping her by the shoulders and throwing her into the wall. She fell crumpled to the floor, then struggled to get up but quickly found a toe of a shoe hitting her in the chest. She lay in a heap on the floor when he kicked her in the back, mumbling under his breath, "If she tries to leave again it will be much worse."
Liza stood there as Nicolas walked out the door, "If you dare leave I'll hunt you down myself," he said as the door closed.
She didn't move for a second then ran into her room, grabbing the trunk and calling for Louise. "You got me a seat on the post?"
"Oui, Madame."
"Good, help me with this trunk, and to get there. Then I want you to leave here for anywhere, I'll give you some money till you find more work."
Everything was put in the carriage, and as it started up it came quickly to a halt. She looked over to see what had happened, and before realizing it, a hand had struck her across the face. Before she knew what was happening she had been dragged from the carriage. "I told you not to try to leave," Nicolas more hissed then said to her as he grabbed her by the hair and dragged her up the steps to the house.
He beat her with his fists, until she could no longer fight, laying in a heap on the floor, her gown was but rags when he walked away. Few times he had broken the skin, and she was weak from the beating not being able to move.
After it seemed an it seemed an eternity Louise came over to her battered mistress, bringing along a washcloth and a basin of water.
"Madame?" she said quietly, "please, I can not help you if you stay so. Can you sit up?"
Liza forced all of her strength she had left, falling into Louise's arms, her head against the maids shoulder. So weak she felt, especially when being supported by a mortal. Raising her eyes she saw the bare neck of the young woman, the pale flesh from working indoors, so close it was. No I can't I won't, I won't take her life for my own survival. I cannot do it, no matter how much I need it.She looked back at the young skin of the girl. No I won't, I just can't
"Take me to my room," Liza whispered in the maids ear, who complied to her mistresses command, helping her to the bed. "Now call Jacques up from the stables for me, I must speak with him."
"Oui Madame."
The maid went out and soon Jacques came into the bedroom, "Madame you called for me?"
"Oui," she said weakly, "I want you to ready the carriage tomorrow morning, right before dawn. About an hour and a half till the sun rises, you understand?"
"Oui I do."
"Now Jacques go tell your assistant this, and come back up to me. Tell him that even if you are busy or are not around at the time to ready the carriage himself. I must leave. Hurry now."
She laid back as he reappeared a few minutes later, and she signaled him to close the door. "Come sit here," placing her hand on the bed next to her. "You've always been a faithful employee Jacques and I am happy with that." Sitting up as he sat she put her hand on his shoulder bringing him closer.
"Jacques, I have always had an eye on you," Liza whispered in the young man's ear, "Just I've never felt it appropriate to tell you, until now." She kissed him on the cheek, using him to support her ask she ran one had through his black hair.
"Madame Liza, you are attractive and all, no one can deny that you are stunning, but what would Monsieur Nicolas say?"
"Who cares about him, all I want is you."
She kissed him on the lips as he yielded to her, wanting more of her, but patiently she played his game, kissing his neck softly until he would never understand. She sunk her fangs into him, his blood mixing into her own, and she felt her strength start to come back, feeding hungrily. She couldn't restrain herself when she felt him go completely limp in her now tight grip.
All of her strength being back to her she dressed, and dragged the body to the stable through the back, burying it under the stall of Nicolas' prized stallion. Then going back up into her room she planned her next escape attempt when Nicolas walked in.
"Ma chere I told you not to try to escape, but I see you have already recovered your strength from your lesson. Next time, it will be worse, enough that one feeding will not help. You understand?" he gripped her chin hard, making her look at him.
"Yes, I understand perfectly." Smiling sweetly at him.
"Louise, Monsieur Nicolas is not back yet, correct?"
"Oui, Madame, and he shouldn't be for another half hour."
"Go make sure that Jacques assistant has the carriage ready, I must leave soon."
The maid ran out of the room, knowing this time that her mistress intended to leave no matter what Monsieur wished or did not wish. Her mistress was a strong willed woman, who she knew from her time with her, that she would not back down from his challenge he lied down to leave. As soon as she had stepped out of the town house out the kitchen door she had seen the carriage ready, sitting there quietly. Running up to the room she helped her mistress with the trunk, putting it in the carriage and seeing her leave.
Once the carriage was gone and completely out of sight, she walked back to the house to get her bag of belongings, the money pouch from Madame hidden inside. The sound of hooves on the cobblestones rang behind her; hence, she turned to see who it was. Then, in front of her so quickly was Monsieur.
"Where is she?"
"Madame?"
"Oh course Madame, now where is she?" he stepped towards her, his fists clenched at his sides, his eye's fiery with hate.
"Monsieur, she just left," then putting on a pleading face, "I tried to stop her, knowing how upset you would be, but she went on anyway. I really tried Monsieur."
"You're lying to me!"
"Non, Monsieur, I am not."
"Yes you are, you let her go, you helped her!"
"Non, I didn't, I didn't!"
He slapped her across the face, blood running from her nose down her face. Then he turned jumping back onto his horse and riding out to the post, knowing that would be the only way she would leave, not realizing how close the sun was to rising.
Liza stopped outside an abandoned house near the post, "Jean- Paul," addressing Jacques assistant, "Help me with my bags, then I'll need you no more, but do not tell Monsieur where I am. Do not even go back there. Here," she stuffed a purse of money in his hand, "take this and go."
She didn't know why she let him go, except maybe because it was better for her that she did. The sun was about to rise as she went into the house for the day to hide from Nicolas as he road past the house outside, and realizing the time himself he was forced back.
After the sun had set, and she awoke, making her way to the post she looked cautiously around for Nicolas, knowing him not to give up so easily. Once sitting in the carriage, alone, she signaled for the driver to go, then startled to hear a voice.
"Driver Stop!"
"No, go go!" she yelled out at him, "Please drive fast, go go!"
She heard Nicolas' frantic attempts to stop her, his horse ran along side of them, through Paris, his face in the window trying to get the door open. His hand was on it, pulling, pulling when finally the door gave.
Maria di Cappella sat in the gondola as it went down between the rows of houses in Venice, far away from the Paris that she had left behind. She got off at a small street near the Plaza, with it's many people all about. The men in the taverns as the serving girls moved all about, the drunk, leery men.
She walked past the Plaza, into the small streets making her way, away from the Grand Canal to her little Palazzo.
"Signora Maria, that man came back asking for you again."
"Casa, do not worry about Guido, he's just drunk all night, and unconscious all day, there is nothing at all to worry about."
"But Signora, the woman fear him, and what he will do. He's no small man," the young woman's sweet Italian trailed on as Maria walked up to her room. Going out on the balcony she heard the singers walking the streets, looking for any coins that they could, their voices melding together.I've been here 20 years, and not once have I found him looking for me in Venice. I don't believe I knew him to give up that easily, but without me maybe he's gone chicken, all I know is that this is so much better.
The door opened and closed down stairs, another customer, and went down the back stairs out of the Palazzo. She went to the San Marco Chapel, going in through a back entrance near the choir loft, where Tonio, was conducting the choir that night. She never knew how he passed for a mortal under the bright candles that stood all over. Looking to the front of the Chapel she saw the Doge assembled, the highest order in Venice which was now loosing it's prestige that it had held for so many years.
She stood by as the choir ended, filing out, catching Tonio on his way out at the end.
"Bravo, Tonio."
"Thank you Signora, now what shall we do the rest of the night."
"First lets get away from this Chapel, I've never liked to be in one much, for some weird reason."
"Then how about we go to the Opera?"
"No, lets just go to the Plaza."
"If you say so."
Walking through the Plaza, arm and arm with Tonio she felt as if she were being watched, her every move being studied.
"Tonio, do you get this feeling that we are being watched?"
"No, it's just your imagination."
While sitting at the fountain she thought she saw a pair of eyes, watching from a tavern, burning into her, as she tried vainly to see the person.
"Lets leave here." Standing up, pulling on his arm, to go.
"Fine, I don't know what is with you tonight, in all the years I've known you, since you first came to the Chapel almost 20 years ago. So what is it this night?"
"I just feel like I'm being watched is all."
Going back to her palazzo, she saw the eye's again, this time though she saw the whole man's face. First she thought it to be Nicolas, then she recognized him, no it wasn't Nicolas, it was Jean-Paul, but in a way it wasn't.
"Jean-Paul?" Maria mumbled under her breath walking towards the old servant of hers, from twenty years before. "he hasn't aged but a year," her voice barely audible as she walked towards him in the street, Tonio following at a distance behind.
"Jean-Paul, is that you?"
He smiled at her, something sinister she felt was behind it though, "Oh Madame, here you have been hiding from Monsieur, he thought you could be found here, now just watch your back Madame Liza. You never know when someone is watching," with that her ex-servant walked away from her, leaving her open mouthed, and unbelieving.
"Maria," Tonio said from behind her, "who was that man anyway? Someone you knew before, of course, but he seemed to be threatening."
"Oh Tonio, you are so observant," walking in the opposite direction of the Jean-Paul. "and it's just something from the last city I lived in, nothing to worry about, nothing at all."
"But Signora that doesn't sound like nothing, not to me at least."
"Tonio just lay off, sh*t you're getting a little all worked up about something that isn't even your business," her temper was now losing check slightly though, which she had never really felt before.
"Signora I didn't mean to upset you, it is just that I worry his threat is serious."
She walked off leaving her toreador friend standing there, as she stalked off now the dark street, going in a third direction.
The darkness embraced her, along with the sounds of the fights in the taverns nearby, but so far in her mind. The men passing by just stared in amazement not thinking to try anything, not even really thinking to breath. She felt the men around her but no fear like she had back in Calais, not like the man that dared to try her then.
Walking she felt this feeling tug at her, like someone was watching, but someone had been before, many people. This one was different though, searching the darkness though no one could be seen anymore, her having walked to where no one roomed. The eye's pierced into her, making her feel powerless to it, turning she walked back from where she came, the feeling never leaving her. She never heard any movement though, not that of anyone near. The eye's followed her all along, and when upon reaching her palazzo, they never left her.
Upon the steps though was a red rose, a note tied to the stem.
The beauty of a Rose
The dangers of it's thorns
one misstep and you shall find
That blood has been drawn
July 1700-
Maria read the note again for the fiftieth time it seemed, never could she get over the fact that her sire had found her, after she had tried so hard to cover her tracks. She had no way of fending him off though if he came, she had been so lucky forty years earlier in Paris, she was not about to test her luck again.
Pacing on her balcony, she thought of ways to protect herself against this man that still wanted control over her.
In the Palazzo she stood by the columns of the church, watching the crowds of people wander by, few paying much attention to the woman watcher. She did not know what she was looking for, just someone to help her with Nicolas if he ever decided to come after her.
She did not want to trust her care to that of a man, but no woman could help her with this. What if she controlled him completely? She remembered Nicolas mentioning what Gerard was, his man servant. He was, stretching her memory, he was a ghoul, yes that was it, she thought. They were blood bond too, so they could never betray you really, total control, how sweet the words were.
Domenico, a strongly built native to southern Italy, walked in the crowded Palazzo. Having come seeking work as a bravo, he didn't know how to find it. The bodies of the people pushed against his large form, not moving him at all, his head above, seeing all.
His eye's caught upon a lovely woman, obviously not a native, standing by the church..
July 1700-
Domenico turned his head from the beautiful woman for only a minute, but after looking back she was no longer there. He looked around for her, those green eyes of hers that had pierced into his very soul.
At the far side of the Palazzo he saw her once again, her face half hidden by the hood of her cloak, but he still felt her eye's on him. Pushing through the crowd he went towards her, curious of who she was, but upon getting close she turned moving quickly down the street. Pursuing her in this little game she had planned, he followed her through the twist and turns of the city, ending up at a small canal.
Maria sat upon the gondola, the breeze blowing through her hair as she saw the young man round the corner, his whole face flushed from the chase. She hated him already, but she needed his strength under her control.
"Signora," he whispered in her ear as he sat next to her, "you must tell me of yourself, I could not go on without knowing."
From behind her she brought forward a glass of red liquid, "Drink and you shall know."
He brought the glass to his lips, the first taste of the fiery liquid he wanted more. He finished the glass quickly looking for more of it, his eye sight obscured by the lack of light. Though finding a fount of the drink to his lips taking in as much as he could.
Maria strained against his hold on her wrist, his strength too much for her, even in his mortal form. She felt herself weaken, her strength go, not noticing the pressure taken off her wrist as she fell backwards against him.
Feburary 1712
"Domenico, what is that you have?"
"Signora, it's a package for you."
"Who is it from?" He brought it over to her, a box wrapped in black, a silk bow on top, with a red rose, placed carefully through.
"Leave me be please."
The obediant ghoul left the balcony, leaving her with the package in her lap, wondering wether to open it or not. Finally the best of it got to her and she pulled the bow apart. The box fell open, a wooden stake stuck through a stuffed human heart, and a note laying on top.
The watcher always sees
The listener always hears
but what you never know
is when they are near...
<in the process of continuation>