Chapter Six.

Serge couldn't ignore the bad feeling he had. Philippe had been gone for several hours. The CE's things sat on a table in one of the extra bedrooms. He'd left his cell phone, changes of clothes and toiletries. Somehow, looking at the abandoned items, Serge felt both raw stabs of guilt for having driven Philippe away and concern over his whereabouts. The threat of the Soldiers was imminent and they were capable of anything.

At the sound of voices, he turned and saw Valmont walk into the room, followed by Philippe's friend, Cherry. The female vampire's large green eyes were red-rimmed. She'd clearly been crying. Cold p.r.i.c.kles of foreboding skittered along his nerve endings.

"Any word?" he asked, his panic mounting rapidly.

Cherry shook her head of red wavy hair. "I've been trying to reach Dahlia on her cell. She was driving around on her way to do errands. I thought maybe she'd seen Philippe, but I can't reach her." Serge watched Cherry's gaze fall on Philippe's belongings. She sniffled, obviously trying to keep her own panic under control.

"We'll find him." Valmont sounded confident.

Cherry's bottom lip trembled. "Dahlia's out there too. I should have gone with her. Oh, this is awful."

Valmont grasped her shoulders. "Pull yourself together. We'll all go search for them."

Just then a cell phone rang. Cherry's face brightened and she fumbled in the pocket of her jean shorts. She looked at the number. "It's Dahlia." She flipped open the phone, practically slamming it into her ear. "Dahlia, my G.o.d. I've been so worried about you. You're fine. Oh, what a relief." Cherry's hand went to her breast. "Look, have you seen Phil? He's gone missing."

Serge watched Cherry's expression and focused his vampire hearing on the voice at the other end.

"Oh yeah," Dahlia said, her voice as clear to Serge as if he were listening directly into the phone. "I picked him up a few hours ago. He was walking along the side of the road. He was pretty steamed up."

Cherry let out a small squeal. "Oh, Dahlia, where is he now?"

Serge glanced at Cherry's expression. The redheaded CE didn't seem to be picking up on the tone of Dahlia's voice. He wasn't quite certain what it was, either, but something was off.

"Well," Dahlia went on, "Phil was really p.i.s.sed. He wouldn't tell me what happened, but he asked me to drive him to his former lover's house in Rouen. The only thing he said when he got out of the car was, 'Tell Serge if he wants to see me, he'll have to come here'."

Cherry's eyes widened. "Phil said that? I've never known him to be so angry before."

"Well, I guess there's a first time for everything, even that."

"Dahlia, are you on your way back? It's not safe out there. Soldiers could be coming."

"I'll be fine."

Valmont took the phone from Cherry. "Dahlia, listen, this is Valmont. Could you please come back straightaway? We'll need you to bring us to Philippe." Valmont looked at Serge. His expression conveyed that he, too, was suspicious of Dahlia.

Dahlia hesitated and Serge knew then and there she was lying. She'd done something to Philippe. Was it possible she-f.u.c.k. Soldiers. Vampires were not completely unknown to work with them if paid sufficiently. His vampire blood practically froze in his veins and it was all he could do not to rip the phone away and spit threats to Dahlia's life into it.

"Sure, I'll take you to him."

Valmont arranged a place to meet her halfway. The CEs had another vehicle.

Serge stood, his fists clenched so hard his nails dug into his palms. He closed his eyes and strained to access his mind link with Philippe as he'd tried earlier, all to no avail. Philippe either wouldn't...or worse...couldn't answer him. He strode over to Valmont and grasped his arm.

Valmont was thanking Dahlia for agreeing to meet them and to drive all that way again. Then he snapped the phone shut and patted Serge's hand. "Come on. We must leave immediately.

"Cherry, a.s.semble half of the strongest guards. They're coming with us."

"What's happening?" Cherry's voice had risen in pitch. She tagged at Valmont's heels.

Valmont didn't break his stride. "I'm sorry, sweetheart. There is no delicate way to tell you this."

"Tell me what?"

"I believe your girlfriend is working for the enemy."

"Good news, Phil. Your friends are coming." Dahlia dangled the keys to the Fiat from her black-painted fingernails.

Through his terribly blurred vision, Philippe could barely make out her form in the doorway of wherever Dahlia had brought him. His stomach still rioted against the invasion of gold dust, most of which, thankfully, he'd been able to vomit out.

That didn't take care of the myriad gold chains wrapped around his wrists, ankles and neck. Simple gold chains that were jewelry for normal people were, for him, shackles that weakened him and made him feel incredibly ill. To make matters worse, there were several large, mean, hungry-looking vampires standing around him where he lay in the center of a rug, each and every one practically licking his or her chops, obviously waiting to feed on him.

"How...could...you?" he managed to choke out. Betrayal had always been the one thing that made Philippe feel he couldn't go on. Something about trusting someone and then having that person turn on you ripped at his soul.

Dahlia heaved a long-suffering sigh. "You think I'm happy about this? You think I want to believe I'm such a mercenary b.i.t.c.h? But that's the way it is. And I'm running late. The sooner Serge and company get here, the sooner my friends here can kill them, and the Soldiers will give us the rest of our money and leave us in peace."

Philippe wanted to scream at her, tell her how stupid and shallow she was. How could she believe the Soldiers wouldn't kill her too once they'd used her for their ends? So senseless. He prayed that Serge and Valmont didn't come, that they'd realize the risk and stay away. He could have warned them...but he was so weak he couldn't unblock his mind link to his friends. There was just too much gold on his body, wreaking havoc on him.

"Bye, Phil. I'll see you later when I get back." She looked at her fellow vampires. They were all of them, Sans-ame, zombified vampires, to be sure. "And you all, leave some for me, would you? You're all such pigs."

Philippe watched Dahlia walk out, her tall, black-clad form a blur. In spite of the hungry soulless ones crowding around him, his first thought was, Poor Cherry. Cherry would be devastated when she knew what her lover had done.

A face looming above his drew Philippe's attention away from thoughts of Cherry. He had more immediate threats to his existence at hand. d.a.m.n. The gold chains were causing his vision to blur. All he could make out of his captors was their scent, a vile, sour odor that conveyed their zombie-like state. They were minions-vampires who'd been drained of all human qualities and existed only to feed. Thankfully, there were very few of them and they weren't difficult to destroy, but they were also voracious and if someone didn't help him soon, he'd definitely die.

The putrid odor a.s.saulted Philippe's nostrils, churned his stomach. One of the vampires knelt down, and his malevolent breath invaded Philippe's air s.p.a.ce. He squeezed his eyes shut, his body completely immobile.

A hand pulled the chains down, exposing his neck. In the next second, a pair of fangs sank into the side of his throat. The sensation sent shoots of pain through his body and before he knew what was happening, a second pair of fangs sank into his inner thigh.

His eyes flew open. He groaned and stared at the figure hunched over his leg. This feeding was painful...agonizing...not the pleasurable experience it usually was. A third vampire knelt over his other leg.

Dear G.o.d, no. His heart throbbed, pounded so hard in his chest that his throat closed up.

The third pair of fangs sank into his other thigh. He groaned again, felt his blood drain rapidly from his body. These horrid creatures obviously had no intention of heeding Dahlia's warning not to be pigs, and their feeding caused his consciousness to wane. His blurry vision dimmed...darker and darker until he was nearly blind.

The feeding frenzy on his body drained his blood more rapidly than his system could restore it. Drinking gold dust had been o.r.g.a.s.mic in comparison to this...

"There's Dahlia." Cherry flashed the headlights several times, signaling Dahlia's Fiat to the side of the road.

Serge sprang from the car and bounded over to the little car just as Dahlia braked to a stop and rolled down her window. "Take us to him immediately."

Dahlia nodded. "Of course. No problem. Get in."

"We'll follow you," Valmont called out from the pa.s.senger side of the van, which Cherry drove and in back of which several of the guards sat.

Serge waved to him and jumped into Dahlia's car. Dahlia switched gears and pulled back onto the road. Serge stared straight ahead through the windshield. He rubbed his hands together. The dread pulled at him like it had during Valmont's captivity. The strength of his worry over Philippe shocked him, especially after so many years of waiting and worrying through Valmont's imprisonment. Serge hadn't thought himself capable of enduring any more. Apparently, he was. He turned to Dahlia's profile in the dark. "How is he?"

She seemed to hesitate. "He's out of sorts."

He looked at her, detecting a smirk underscoring her statement. He already knew she was lying, but the longer he sat there, the worse his feeling grew that Philippe was in danger. Valmont, I know this girl is lying. Something bad has happened. Then he remembered their mind link only worked through Philippe. Merde.

Yes, I'm sure you're right.

Valmont? You heard me?

Oui.

He closed his eyes. Thank G.o.d. His relationship with Valmont wasn't the only thing Philippe had repaired.

I believe that when we get there, she'll either have Soldiers...or...zombies there to try to kill us all. Valmont sounded sympathetic.

He raked a hand through his hair. Unfortunately, there's nothing we can do until we get there. She's the only one who knows where Philippe is.

Just hold on, my friend. We'll get Philippe back.

Valmont's a.s.surance comforted him somewhat, but he knew only too well the damage Soldiers could inflict. In this case, they were using mercenary vampires to achieve their ends. A streak of indignation burned through him. The CEs were too trusting. They allowed anyone into their midst who appeared in need of comfort and salvation. If they were going to survive as a species, Darelle was going to have to become a bit more selective.

The hour's ride was nearly as nerve-racking as his ordeal with Valmont had been. Dahlia turned the car onto a gravel drive lined with trees. In the darkness, a light burned up ahead through the window of what appeared a two-story thatched-roof house.

His nerve endings crackled as they drew near and he suppressed the urge to jump out of the car and storm the house. The headlights of Cherry's van shone behind them, reminding him that he needed to wait for Valmont and the guards. Philippe, I'm here. He had no idea whether Philippe could access his mind link at this point, but prayed he got the message.

Dahlia braked to a stop and he got quickly out of the car, waiting for Valmont and the others to join him.

Dahlia dangled her keys, a strange expression on her face as she looked at Cherry. "Hi, babe."

"Dahlia." Cherry ran up to her and threw her arms around her lover. "I missed you. I was so worried."

Serge watched Dahlia give Cherry a halfhearted embrace. The mutinous vampire had the grace to look at the least bit sheepish. She pulled away from Cherry, whose facial expression clouded. "Come on, guys. I'll bring you to Philippe, but don't expect him to be very communicative."

Serge strode up to her and grabbed her sleeve. "He'd better not be hurt or you're dead."

Dahlia's eyes ignited with the glow of bloodl.u.s.t and she yanked her arm away. "Too late." She turned toward the house and whistled, a high-pitched sound that pierced Serge's ears.

"Dahlia, what are you doing?" Cherry sounded hysterical.

The front door opened and four huge zombie vampires poured out. In the light glowing behind them, Serge could make out the bloodstains around their mouths, a telltale sign of feeding.

"No," he shouted. "Philippe." He broke into a run for the house, only going a few steps before finding himself surrounded. Without thinking, he launched himself at one of them. The creature grabbed him and held him in a death grip. Serge bared his fangs and sank them into the zombie's arm. The zombie yowled and threw Serge. He sailed through the air and hit the side of the house so hard he tumbled to the ground.

Groggy for a moment, his body racked with pain, he looked up. The front yard had become a battle scene between Valmont, the CE guards and Dahlia with her zombies. More zombies poured from the house and as soon as Serge recovered, he rose and fought his way into the house, felling the zombies with a bite on the throat each time he could get a grip on one.

He fought until he was ready to collapse. His fangs and body ached. Finally, however, all the zombies were dead and Serge staggered through the house, searching for Philippe. Philippe was nowhere in the downstairs and Serge made his way up the stairs, peering into each room.

"Philippe," he whispered, "where the h.e.l.l are you?"

Only the last room at the end of the hall remained. Serge stood in the doorway. "s.h.i.t." He launched himself into the room.

"Philippe." Immediately, Serge's stomach churned. Philippe lay very still, his limbs and neck b.l.o.o.d.y, covered with punctures above what must have been twenty pounds of gold chains. "What the f.u.c.k?"

Without thinking, Serge scooped Philippe up into his arms, chains and all and made his way downstairs. Valmont waited for him at the foot of the stairs, his hair and clothing mussed, but unharmed from his deadly skirmishes with the zombies.

"How is he?"

Grief shot through Serge. "I don't know yet. But he hasn't even blinked since I picked him up.

He maneuvered Philippe's limp body through the doorway. The van's headlights illuminated Cherry bent over Dahlia's lifeless form, sobbing. Cherry looked up, her face tearstained, mascara leaking down her cheeks, making her appear zombie-like herself. Serge had seen Cherry take Dahlia down herself, just before he turned and fought his way into the house.

"Philippe." Cherry scrambled to her feet and ran over to Serge. She smoothed back Philippe's hair. "Oh my G.o.d. What have they done to him?"

"I don't know," Serge ground out. "There are fang punctures all over him and I don't know what to do to help him."

Cherry looked up. "We'll take him to Le Coeur. Get him in the van."

Of course, why hadn't he thought of that? The CE underground headquarters in Paris. Certainly they'd have the facilities to tend to Philippe. If it wasn't already too late.

Everyone piled into the van.

"Please, let me come with you." Cherry was in tears, obviously worried sick for Philippe. "I'll come back later for the other car. Please?"

"Let her come, Serge. We must hurry."

Serge nodded. He knelt on the floor, cradling Philippe's head on his lap. Valmont drove while Cherry removed the gold chains from Philippe's still body.

"Now it makes sense," Cherry said as she undid each clasp with quick fingers. "The other day I put my hand on Phil's shoulder. I was wearing this ring." She paused and pulled the band off her finger, tossing it into the pile of chains. "It seemed to affect him." She glanced at Serge. "Dahlia gave me that ring." She went back to working on the chains, most of which were off now. She sniffled and fresh tears ran down her cheeks. "I feel awful. I'm the one who brought Dahlia to Le Coeur. She seemed so...sincere." Cherry threw the last chain aside, raked back her hair and looked down sadly at Philippe. "I'm so sorry, Phil. Please, be all right."

Serge smoothed back Philippe's hair. The punctures on his Philippe's body still gaped open and he hadn't so much as fluttered his eyelids. His chest wasn't moving with the slightest breath. "I blame myself," he muttered. "I ha.s.sled him for no good reason. He wouldn't even have walked out of the chateau otherwise."

"Stop it, both of you." Valmont's voice cut through Serge's distress. "Serge, you're not at fault, and neither are you, Cherry. There is evil in the world and that's the simple truth."

Serge looked at him.

His friend's dark gaze conveyed the urgency of his words. "Concentrate all your energy on seeing that Philippe survives and heals. When I spoke to Darelle she said that if we get him there soon enough, there's a good chance she can reverse the damage that's been done to him. So no self-pity, either of you. Understood?"

"You're right." Serge glanced at Cherry, seeing her nod in agreement as well. He gazed back down at Philippe's motionless face, bloodstained and haggard. Even his golden hair appeared limp and l.u.s.terless. Philippe, please live. He prayed silently, fervently. I love you.

Valmont had had no idea that Le Coeur had a hospital of sorts. He stood outside the room to which Darelle and her guardians had brought Philippe as soon as they'd reached the place. He sat on the bench, watching Serge pace.