Page 43

“You’re never going to let that go, are you? That was clear back in the Victorian Era, for crying out loud! And I don’t have diabetes this time.” Isabel smacked Sebastian in the face with a pillow and jumped to her feet. “Alright, let’s stop stalling and get this terrible job going.”

Together they crossed the castle to the dungeon, lighting every torch along the way. “When this is over, we’re starting the renovations with putting electricity in this place. Even if it’s just in the main rooms. I refuse to spend eternity in a dark, crumbling castle where I can’t even charge my phone.”

Sebastian’s eyebrows lowered, and Isabel knew she was treading close to the same argument they’d had half a dozen times on the train. She chose to believe in only the best outcome, as if that could will it into existence. They’d defeat the shadow, the vampire venom in her veins would take effect the moment she was no longer under the curse, and they’d live happily ever after.

Meanwhile, Sebastian was fixated on her possible (or even probable) death. It had nearly become an obsession at this point, and all she wanted him to do was think about any other outcome. Even just for a moment!

So silence fell between them as Isabel began moving from room to room, gathering up the paintings and bringing them to the base of the stairs. Each one felt like an old friend she hadn’t thought of in a very long time. Depression began to weigh on her like chains. Destroying these was more than burning artwork. It was erasing centuries of love and devotion.

But then, she had an idea. She rushed up the stairs past a sweaty Sebastian and fished around in her suitcase. Near the very bottom, she located the small black bag she’d been searching for and unzipped it. Inside was a digital camera and three spare memory cards. She slipped the cards into her pocket and hurried back to the great hall where Sebastian had been laying out the paintings.

“What are you doing?” he asked as he entered the room with two paintings under each arm.

“I don’t want to lose all of these precious memories forever. So I’m going to take a photograph of each and every painting, so we can look back on them in the future. If having photos of them means we can’t break the curse, then we’re just screwed. Because there’s no way we can locate every photo of your art in the Louvre. It’s been in magazines, on personal cameras, and all over the internet.”

Sebastian paled as he realized she was right. “That’s a good point…so that’s a brilliant idea. I’m glad you have been raised with modern technology, because I never would have thought of it.” He wrapped Isabel up into a huge hug, spinning in a circle before putting her down.

As soon as he put her down, Isabel began taking pictures. She lined each shot up carefully and stared at the preview for a long time before nodding and moving on to the next painting. The shadow appeared in every single painting, but Isabel did everything in her power to refuse eye contact, no matter how angry her face became.

But when the photos were taken, not one of them showed any signs of the malevolent spirit. Isabel took that as a sign the photographs were safe, and relaxed into cataloguing Sebastian’s works.

The hours grew long as the number of paintings in the dungeon slowly decreased. By the time the sun disappeared over the horizon, 253 paintings stood in stacks against the great room walls. Isabel’s memory cards were loaded with pictures, and her body was exhausted.

“It’s time to eat,” she announced after examining the final photo of the final painting. “Remember how I swore I wouldn’t work until I passed out? Well, we’re getting pretty close.” She sat down heavily in a dusty chair, sending a cloud of dust into the air that caused her to cough and choke.

Sebastian hurried in with a glass of water and a grumpy look on his dusty, sweaty face. “You promised!” he grumbled, watching to make sure she drained the glass. “I made a sandwich for you while you were taking the last few photographs. Can you make it to the kitchen, or should I bring it to you?”

“I was making a joke, you worrywart,” Isabel replied with a laugh. “The coughing was just the dusty chair.” She stood and dramatically began walking toward the kitchen, still giggling at the look of consternation on Sebastian’s face.

On the counter were two sandwiches, piled high with meat and vegetables, and two glasses of fresh juice. “I figured I should probably give my body something extra to make up for all the exertion of going up and down the stairs,” Sebastian said as he picked up one of the sandwiches and took a large bite.

Isabel nodded and dug right into hers as well, eyes rolling back in pleasure as the salty meat and crisp vegetables graced her starving body. Within minutes the meal was gone and exhaustion was beginning to set in. “I didn’t know if we’d be able to get all of those up here today,” she admitted with a yawn. “Hopefully getting them into the truck, then out of the truck, then into the crematorium won’t be as hard.”

“It shouldn’t be. At least, not physically. Actually putting them in the cremation oven is going to be the hardest part.” Sebastian’s voice was strained and cracked at the end of the sentence, absolutely shattering Isabel’s heart. She jumped up from her chair and wrapped her arms around Sebastian, letting him bury his face in her shirt as tears finally overcame his limits.

* * *

Venice, Italy. 18 June, 2007

“Is this the last stash?” Isabel asked, rubbing her sore arms in front of the fireplace. Over the last 48 hours, she and Sebastian had unloaded all 253 paintings from Vernazza, 50 from northern Venice, 27 from eastern Venice, and 38 from southern Venice into the crematorium owned by the coven. It was the obvious place for such a large-scale burning; with all six ovens going, the entire collection could be burned at once. Most likely.

Isabel really tried not to think about why a coven of vampires would own the local morgue and crematorium.

“Yes. The ones here in the keep and the ones at the Louvre are the only ones left. And you understand why you have to stay here while I fetch those, right?” Sebastian knelt in front of her and began massaging her hands and arms, and Isabel’s head fell back in bliss.

“Because I don’t have any magic and might get you caught,” she replied, her tone dripping with unshed sighs. Sebastian laughed and kissed her forehead, her chin, and her neck. She felt her arms erupt in goosebumps as his lips brushed her skin and his teeth nipped her collarbone. “What kind of magic do you think I’ll get when I’m finally turned?”

Sebastian rested his elbows on her knees and shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe you won’t get any, and you’ll just be a regular vampire,” he teased, earning himself a soft slap upside the head.

“But I’ll beyourvampire, so at least there’s that.”

“This is true,” he replied, and scooped her up from the couch. “Until then, I’m happy with you being my wife. And I plan to take advantage of that particular set of benefits.”

Isabel squirmed as Sebastian carried her through the hidden doorway and into the bedroom proper, but only enough to be playful. Sebastian held her tighter and collapsed onto the bed with her still in his arms, and began kissing her neck and collarbone where it was exposed above the collar of her shirt.

She, in return, reached down and grabbed the hem of Sebastian’s shirt and pulled it up over his head to reveal his muscular chest and stomach. “That’s better,” she teased, and began tracing the shape of his pectoral muscles with her finger.

“Only fair if I get to take yours off!” Sebastian insisted, and did just that. The underground air was cold on their bare skin, but Isabel could barely feel it as her body reacted to Sebastian’s advances, making her face flush and her skin feel hot.