The Maestro's Maker (7 page)

cloying hands and could force him to the surface. He struggled like a rabid beast.

“Stop it!” I hissed into his ear as we broke the surface. “Stop it!” Water shot from his

lungs and he threw up what was left of his last meal, gasping and looking around wildly.

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“It’s all right,” I said. “I have you. Your master’s all right. Come on.”

Somehow, I got him draped across the board. He looked around with quick eyes and

flaring nostrils as though on the verge of another panic. I tried to calm him by petting his

head.

“Calm down, boy,” Claude-Michel said in the voice of an old man. “Or I’ll…” He

stopped and clutched at the board for his own life. “
Merde
,” he said, and looked at me

desperately.

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Chapter Eight

Somehow, we made it through the night. I found someone kind enough to take us in

for a day so that I could find a room for us in the city, which I paid for with money I had

taken from Gunnar’s stash.

The two men slept on the bed while Jean took the couch. I hardly slept at all, but

stayed up with Claude-Michel and François as though they were new babies. As soon as

they were well enough to remain by themselves for a few hours, I decided, I would go

into the street and find a new violin for Claude-Michel. This is the thought that kept my

spirits up.

They slept silently, until three nights later, when Claude-Michel woke screaming.

“Where am I?” he demanded. Jean was up like a shot, but it was up to me to press Claude-

Michel back into the mattress. He looked skeletal, dry and gray. His eyes were sunken

with purple bruising, and his teeth had fallen out. New teeth were forcing their way

through his gums. He had already cut his tongue on his new fangs several times.

He calmed, then looked at me. “Vampire,” he muttered.

“Shh,” I whispered urgently. “You are becoming one too. We’ll be in danger if you

alert people.”

“You did this to me,” he hissed.

Behind him, François struggled as though trying to prop himself. He couldn’t, so he

settled for turning his head toward us. “Come on Claude-Michel,” he said. “Stop being

so temperamental. You wanted a way out, no?”

Claude-Michel lolled his head toward the other man’s voice. François grinned at

him—a terrifying pale visage with red, sunken eyes.

“Are you dead?” Claude-Michel asked. “You look terrible.”

“But I’ve healed,” François said. “Look.”

Claude-Michel watched as François lifted his arm. The wound was inflamed and

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runny, but it had closed. “Impressive,” Claude-Michel said.

“You will be fine in just a few days,” I told them. “Then you will be ready to take

food.”

Claude-Michel gave me a distrustful look. “What kind of food?”

“You’ll be ready for it when the time comes, ” I said. “Trust me, you will want it

then.”

He nodded and settled back down onto the mattress, breathing heavily, sizing me up.

“Who am I in danger of alerting, that his house is full of monsters?”

“The innkeeper. I had to persuade him that you and
Monsieur
Villaforte do not carry

a plague. He finally agreed to give us one room with two beds so I could more easily care

for you. I do not know how safe we are here.”

“How long…?” Claude-Michel asked, then sighed.

“You have been sleeping for three days,” I told him. “Do you remember being in the

water?”

Claude-Michel closed his eyes and nodded as though it took all of his will to do it. “I

remember,” he croaked. “Barely.”

“We were in the water all night. There was a shark, but I stabbed it in the nose.”

“A shark,” he said. “I must have slept. Where is Jean?” he asked, suddenly wide-

eyed.

“I am here,
Monsieur
,” Jean said softly, beside me.

Claude-Michel lifted a frail-looking hand in front of his face, flinching at the sight

of scabs on his wrists where the metal cuffs had chafed. “I am only forty-four,” he said.

“These hands were strong…even a few days ago, they were strong.”

I remembered how depressed I had felt at losing my beauty during the change. His

sadness touched me. “They will be strong again,” I assured him. I reached for his arm, but

he recoiled and scowled. “Your hands will be stronger than they have ever been before,” I

said. “And you will never grow old, and you will not die. Is that not something to comfort

you as you heal?”

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“It sounds like a good trade to me,” François said, closing his eyes.

Claude-Michel dropped his gaze for a second, then looked at me and did not flinch.

For a moment, I felt happy at seeing the life in his eyes again. Then he spoke, and broke

my heart again. “I think only of my dead children and wife. Until I kill the bastards who

took their lives, there will be no comfort.”

“Claude-Michel,” François said. “We are free of that now.”

“And today,” Claude-Michel continued at me, ignoring him. “Today you tell me I

will live with this grief forever? Without the release of death?”

“Perhaps you will change your mind when you are better,” I said, standing.

“
Oui
,” François agreed. “Forget this idea of revenge and embrace your new life,
mon

ami
. We will be your new family. A family of beautiful monsters poised to take over the

world.”

I made myself smile for Claude-Michel’s benefit. “I will return soon,
Monsieur
. It is

still very important that you get your rest. There are difficult times ahead.”

François turned his eyes to me. “What do you mean by that?”

“It means that our food will no longer wait patiently on our plates, François,” Claude-

Michel said, turning his back toward the other man. “We are altered forever.”

* * * *

Over the next couple of days, their color improved and their teeth finished growing

in. It is a painful process from which there was no relief at that time. But once the teeth

are in, all the new vampire can think about is feeding. Claude-Michel reached this point

before François.

He called me in a panic, wide-eyed and feral-looking. “Chloe!” He sat up and swung

his legs over the side of the mattress.

Jean reached him first. “What is it,
Monsieur
?”

Claude-Michel gave him a look as though he were seeing a ghost. I recognized the

light of first hunger in his eyes. Jean stepped toward him. Claude-Michel threw up his

hand as if to ward off a demon.

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“Stay back!” he growled.

I knew he was experiencing a hunger unlike anything he had ever felt, that he could

hear the swish of blood in the boy’s heart chambers, and that it inflamed his belly and

loins. “Stay back!” he repeated. François watched him with an expression of horror.

“But
Monsieur
…” The boy looked crushed.

I sat next to Claude-Michel. “Don’t worry,” I told him. “Jean can provide food for

all of us.”

Claude-Michel’s body became rigid. He turned to me with a look of disgust. But

since I understood, and since I was relieved he was doing so well, I had to stifle the urge

to laugh. “Jean? My Jean? I will not kill him,” he said and pulled his hand away, getting

slowly and awkwardly to his feet. I stood with him.

Jean backed away, wide-eyed. Claude-Michel was several inches taller now.

“You don’t have to,” I said. “Gunnar killed for pleasure, not out of necessity. What

we need to do, it is nothing more than milking a cow. Feed from him, Claude-Michel. It

is natural.” I turn to Jean. “Come,” I said. “Help your master.”

“But…” Jean trembled visibly.

“Come on,” I said. “He won’t kill you. It will only hurt a little.”

He nodded and took fragile steps toward Claude-Michel. I glanced over my shoulder

to see how François was taking this. He watched, a fascinated expression on his face.

Jean kept looking at me. I nodded encouragingly. Then Jean fixed a determined gaze

upon his master and helped him sit on the mattress again.

It was Claude-Michel’s turn to cast nervous glances at me. I smiled, even though the

thought of seeing a feeding made me nauseated again. “Take your time,” I said. “Find

the vein.”

Wild-eyed, Claude-Michel turned back to Jean, who now had to look up at him even

though they sat side by side. He took Jean in his arms and guided him backward, lowering

his head as if for a kiss upon his neck. He took in a big breath and I thought the smell

must have washed over him, of blood, of warm flesh, of sex. He closed his eyes for a

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moment. Then he pressed his lips to the boy’s neck, and probed gingerly with the tip of

his tongue. During my first feeding, I had been unsure whether I knew what to feel for,

but there it had been, that motion of blood beneath the skin and I had known, exactly,

where to press the sharp tips of my fangs.

Jean let out a squeal like a caught mouse, but Claude-Michel clamped his hand over

the boy’s mouth and held him still. I knelt by the bed and held Jean’s thrashing legs.

Claude-Michel drove in his fangs a little too enthusiastically, causing Jean to scream into

his hand. I felt badly for the boy, who was so very frightened, but I knew Claude-Michel

would soon learn to make it pleasant for him.

I could not help but think of the warm, meaty taste of blood as I watched them. It was

all I could do not to retch, but I didn’t want to spoil this moment for Claude-Michel. It

wasn’t long before Claude-Michel pulled away. His lips had parted, and he looked down

at Jean with a look that was both tender and bewildered. Jean’s eyes, still frightened, were

beginning to glaze over. He whimpered. Claude-Michel pet his cheek with the backs of

his fingers. “Shh,” he said. “I have finished.”

When Jean nodded and closed his eyes, Claude-Michel looked back at me. I smiled.

“My body wants to make love, but I am interested only in sleep.”

“It is normal,” I said. “You will want more later, but sleep is the best thing for you

now. And for him.”

Claude-Michel nodded and looked back at Jean, whose eyes looked far away. He

snapped back to consciousness for a moment and regarded Claude-Michel curiously.

“What will happen to him?” Claude-Michel asked.

“He will become stronger, but he will not become what we are. Soon he will be able

to provide us with much blood. We can survive with only him if we have to.”

“But we will need more people?” Claude-Michel asked.

I nodded. “It would be best.”

Claude-Michel struggled back into the bed. “My arms are tingling.”

“Good,” I said, helping Jean into the bed next to his master. “Get some rest.” To

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François, I said, “You will be hungry soon.”

* * * *

The next day, Claude-Michel was like a new man. He was propped on his elbow

when I woke, leaning over his sleeping Jean and tickling his fingers through the boy’s

hair. I couldn’t help but feel envious of the boy. After all, I had risked so much to save

Claude-Michel, and I so wanted to feel his touch.

I put away those thoughts and got off the couch.

“How are you feeling?” I asked him.

The look of sheer joy he gave me made up for any jealousy I had felt for Jean. “I can

see tiny things crawling on the walls,” Claude-Michel said. “And hear the lovemaking of

mice in their burrows. I am not sure that is a good thing.”

“You will grow accustomed to it,” I said with a smile, peering closely at his fingernails,

which had grown quickly.

“Yes,” he said. “I need a manicure.”

“When you grow accustomed to your new hearing, you will listen only for what is

important.”

“I have not seen you dine,” he said.

“I cannot dine on anything at the moment because my body is… Gunnar called it

being ‘in phase.’ It is a time all vampires experience, losing their appetites so that they

will not accidentally create other vampires. Only in this time will the bite transform.”

“How often does this happen?”

“I don’t know. Not very often. Gunnar seemed surprised it had happened to me so

soon. I have not been—I have not been a vampire for very long.”

Claude-Michel lifted his fingers toward my face. “I am grateful,” he said. “I feel

better than I have ever felt before.”

I smiled. “I am glad.”

“I want to stand up,” he said, and sat up on the edge of the bed. Jean shifted, but was

sleeping deeply. I glanced at François, whose eyes were open just a sliver.

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I tried to help Claude-Michel stand, but he waved me away. “I am not an old man,”

he snapped. He shuffled forward a few steps. He looked like a drunk man.

“It will be difficult to move around at first,” I said. “You are several inches taller than

you were. The growth causes pain, but that will go away in a few days.”

“I’m taller?” he asked.

“Yes,
Monsieur
,” I said. “You are a different kind of man now. A different creature.

More than a man.”

It was at that precise moment that my eyes wandered too far and noticed the bulge

between his legs. I looked away quickly, blushing. But he noticed. He cocked his head

and grinned at me.

“I think it is time I see what a vampire’s body is capable of,” he said.