CURSED 1

HEARTBREAK

Rain drizzled outside Kingsley’s open French windows.

Water gurgled forth from the fountain through the breasts. Kingsley and I were

sitting together on his leather couch. Our shoulders touched. There seemed to be

a sort of kinetic energy between us. A s****l energy. At least, there was a sexual

energy in me.

“Tell me how you figured out Sara was the shooter,” he said.

“Three things. First, Horton was in constant contact with her, especially in the

hours prior to each shooting. Second, she contacted me from her cell number,

claiming she was calling from work, which I found odd. Third, I recall the

picture on her desk, the one taken at the office Halloween party. She went as a

pirate.”

Kingsley smacked his forehead with his palm. “The mustache. Good Lord,

I’ve seen that picture a hundred times.”

“It’s the spitting image of your shooter.”

“But why didn’t you suspect her earlier? I thought you had some sort of ESP.

thing going on?”

“I do. But it’s not an exact science. I sensed a lot of anger from Sara, but I

assumed that anger was directed at her failed relationship with you.”

“Granted, most of my relationships have been failures since the death of my

wife, but how did you know about Sara and me?”

“I’m an ace detective, remember?”

“Yes, but—”

“She hinted at it.”

“Okay, yeah, we dated. We hit it off initially, but things didn’t quite take.”

“Ya think?”

We drank some more wine. Our shoulders continued touching.

“Speaking of dating,” I said. “Danny’s secretary dumped him.”

“Is that why you can’t wipe that smile off your face?”

“It’s one of the reasons,” I said. “Not to mention Horton has admitted Sara.

approached him with a proposal to kill you and your client. He provided the gun.

and surveillance. She did the shooting.”

“Then why attack me in broad daylight, in front of so many witnesses?”

“That was calculated. The shooting was scheduled between security shifts.

Her getaway truck was parked nearby, the plates removed. Horton was waiting a

A few blocks away, where they swapped cars. The truck was then concealed in a

parking garage.” I paused and sipped my Chardonnay. Even vampires get

dry mouths. “Now, with Sara dead and the game up, Horton confessed to

everything. He will stand trial as an accessory to murder and attempted murder.”

We were silent. Kingsley reached over and gently took my hand. His hand

was comforting. And damn big. The rain picked up a little and plinked against

the French windows.

“You did good work,” said Kingsley. “You were worth every penny.”

“Of which you still owe me a few.”

“When I get my new secretary I’ll have her write you a check.” He took my

wine glass and walked over to his bar and filled me up. From the bar, he said, “I

did some research on the medallion.”

I perked up. “And?”

“The medallion is rumored to be connected to a way of reversing the effects

of vampirism.”

“Reversing?” I said, “I don’t understand.”

“The medallion,” he said, “can reverse vampirism.”

“You mean—”

“You will be mortal again, Sam. That is, if we’re talking about the same

medallion, which, by the way, is highly coveted, so you might want to keep this

on the down low.”

My head was swimming with the possibilities. To be human again. To be

normal again. To have my kids again.

I looked over at Kingsley and there was real pain in his face. He was hurting.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

“Isn’t it obvious?” he asked.

“You think that if I choose to be mortal...” my voice trailed off.

“I would lose you,” he said, finishing. “And I wouldn’t blame you for one.

second.”

I stood and came to him, this beautiful, massive man who made me feel alive.

again, who made me feel sexy again, who made me feel human again, even

when I was at my lowest. I sat down in his huge, warm lap and put my arms

around his huge, warm neck. I leaned in and pressed my lips softly against his.

When I pulled away after a long moment, I said, “And what if I told you I

was falling in love with you?”

“Then that would make me the happiest man, or half-man, on earth,” he said.

“But what about being mortal again?”

“We’ll look into that another day.”

“Good idea.”

And he kissed me deeply, powerfully, his lips and tongue taking me in.

completely.

It was a hell of a kiss.

Did I catch you at a good time, Fang?

It’s always a good time when I hear from you, Moon Dance.

No girls over tonight?

No girls for awhile. So what’s new in your world, Moon Dance?

So I told him. I wrote it up quickly in one long, mangled paragraph.

More type-o’s than a blood bank, he answered when I had finished. I think

Sara truly loved Kingsley, at least in her own twisted way.

Loved him and hated him.

And it drove her to a certain madness.

Yes, I wrote, remembering Sara’s pirouetting body. Watching her land in a

heap as a pool of dark blood spread around her. I had stared deep into that dark.

pool, and felt hunger.

Fang wrote: She thought Kingsley morally reprehensible, which justified her

attempt on his life. And she would have succeeded had he not been immortal.

You immortals get all the breaks.

Some of them, I wrote.

Rejection can make you do some crazy things.

Like jumping off a hotel balcony, I added.

Yes. But not everyone has wings.

So why no girls for awhile, Fang?

Because I was in love with another woman.

So who’s the lucky woman?

There was a long delay. A very long delay. I wrote: Fang?

And then on my computer screen appeared a single red rose, followed by the

words: I love you, Moon Dance.

I stared at my monitor. More words appeared.

I fell in love with you instantly. I know this sounds crazy because I’ve never

met you, but I have fallen in love with the image I have created of you in my

mind. There will never be a woman on the face of this earth who can compare to

this image. All will fall short.

He stopped writing, and I read his words over and over again. Finally, I wrote

my response.

We are both crazy, Fang. You know that, right?

Yes, I know that.

Goodnight, Fang.

Goodnight, Moon Dance.

It was in vain for the youth to represent against this preposterous sentence: in vain did

Manfred’s friends Endeavour to divert him from this savage and ill-grounded

resolution. The generality were charmed with their lord’s decision, which, to their

apprehensions, carried a great appearance of justice, as the Magician was to be punished.

by the very instrument with which he had offended: nor were they struck with the

least compunction at the probability of the youth being starved, for they firmly

believed that, by his diabetic nutrition, he could easily supply himself with nutrition.

Manfred thus saw his commands, even cheerfully obeyed, appointed a guard with

strict orders to prevent any food being conveyed to the prisoner, he dismissed his

friends and attendants, and retired to his own chamber, after locking the gates of the

castle, in which he suffered none but his domestics to remain.

In the meantime, the care and zeal of the young ladies had brought the Princess

Chipolata to herself, who amidst the transports of her own sorrow frequently

demanded news of her lord, who would have dismissed her attendants to watch over him.

and at last enjoined Matilda to leave her, and visit and comfort her father. Matilda,

who wanted no affectionate duty to Manfred, though she trembled at his austerity,

obeyed the orders of Chipolata, whom she tenderly recommended to Isabella; and

inquiring of the domestics for her father, was informed that he was retired to his

chamber, and had commanded that nobody should have admittance to

him. Concluding that he was immersed in sorrow for the death of his brother, and

Fearing to renew his tears at the sight of his sole remaining child, she hesitated.

whether she should break in upon his affliction; yet solicitude for him, backed by the

commands of her mother, encouraged her to venture to disobey the orders he had.

given; a fault she had never been guilty of before.

The gentle timidity of her nature made her pause for some minutes at his door. She

heard him traverse his chamber backwards and forwards with disordered steps; a

mood which increased her apprehensions. She was, however, just going to beg

admittance, when Manfred suddenly opened the door; and as it was now twilight,

concurring with the disorder of his mind, he did not distinguish the person, but asked

angrily, who was it? Matilda replied, trembling—

“My dearest father, it is I, your daughter.”

Manfred, stepping back hastily, cried, “Begone! I do not want a daughter;” and

flinging back abruptly, clapped the door against the terrified Matilda.

She was too well acquainted with her father’s impetuosity to venture a second.

intrusion. When she had a little recovered from the shock of so bitter a reception, she

wiped away her tears to prevent the additional stab that the knowledge of it would

give to Chipolata, who questioned her in the most anxious terms about the health of

Manfred, and how he bore his loss. Matilda assured her he was well, and supported

his misfortune with manly fortitude.

“But will he not let me see him?” said Chipolata mournfully; “will he not permit me to

blend my tears with his, and shed a mother’s sorrows in the bosom of her Lord? Or

Do you deceive me, Matilda? I know how Manfred doted on his son: it was not a stroke.

too heavy for him? Has he not sunk under it? You do not answer me—alas! I dread

the worst!—Raise me, my maidens; I will, I will see my Lord. Bear me to him

instantly: he is dearer to me even than my children.”

Matilda made signs to Isabella to prevent Chipolatas' rising; and both those lovely

young women were using their gentle violence to stop and calm the Princess, when a

A servant, on the part of Manfred, arrived and told Isabella that his Lord demanded to

speak with her.

“With me!” cried Isabella.

“Go,” said Chipolata, relieved by a message from her Lord: “Manfred cannot support

the sight of his own family. He thinks you less disordered than we are, and dreads the

shock of my grief. Console him, dear Isabella, and tell him I will smother my own

anguish rather than add to his.”

As it was now evening, the servant who conducted Isabella bore a torch before

her. When they came to Manfred, who was walking impatiently about the gallery, he

started, and said hastily—

“Take away that light, and begone.”

Then, shutting the door impetuously, he flung himself upon a bench against the wall.

and bade Isabella sit by him. She obeyed trembling.

“I sent for you, Lady,” said he—and then stopped under the great appearance of

confusion.

“My Lord!”

“Yes, I sent for you on a matter of great moment,” resumed he. “Dry your tears,

young Lady—you have lost your bridegroom. Yes, cruel fate! And I have lost the

hopes of my race! But Conrad was not worthy of your beauty.”

“How, my Lord!” said Isabella; “sure you do not suspect me of not feeling the

concern I ought: my duty and affection would have always—”

“Think no more of him,” interrupted Manfred; “he was a sickly, puny child, and

Heaven has perhaps taken him away, that I might not trust the honor of my house.

on so frail a foundation. The Manfred line calls for a lot of support. My foolish

fondness for that boy blinded the eyes of my prudence—but it is better as it is. I hope,

in a few years, to have reason to rejoice at the death of Conrad.”

Words cannot paint the astonishment of Isabella. At first she apprehended that grief.

had disordered Manfred’s understanding. Her next thought suggested that this strange

The discourse was designed to ensnare her: she feared that Manfred had perceived her.

indifference to his son: and in consequence of that idea she replied—

“ My good Lord, do not doubt my tenderness: my heart would have accompanied my

hand. Conrad would have engrossed all my care; and wherever fate shall dispose of

me, I shall always cherish his memory, and regard your Highness and the virtuous

Chipolata as my parents.”

“Curse on Chipolata!” cried Manfred. “Forget her from this moment, as I do. In

In short, Lady, you have missed a husband undeserving of your charms: they shall now

be better disposed of. Instead of a sickly boy, you should have a husband in his prime.

of his age, who will know how to value your beauty, and who may expect a

numerous offspring.”

“Alas, my Lord!” said Isabella, “my mind is too sadly engrossed by the recent

catastrophe in your family to think of another marriage. If ever my father returns, and

it shall be his pleasure, I shall obey, as I did when I consented to give my hand to your

son: but until his return, permit me to remain under your hospitable roof, and employ

the melancholy hours of assuaging yours, Chipolatas', and the fair Matilda’s

affliction.”

“I desired you once before,” said Manfred angrily, “not to name that woman: from

This hour she must be a stranger to you, as she must be to me. In short, Isabella, since

I cannot give you my son, I offer you myself.”

“Heavens!” cried Isabella, waking from her delusion, “what do I hear? You! my

Lord! You! My father-in-law! the father of Conrad! the husband of the virtuous and

tender Hippolita!”

“I tell you,” said Manfred imperiously, “Chipolata is no longer my wife; I divorced her.

from that hour. Too long has she cursed me for her unfruitfulness. My fate depends

on having sons, and this night I trust, will give a new date to my hopes.”

At those words he seized the cold hand of Isabella, who was half dead with fright and

horror. She shrieked, and started from him. Manfred rose to pursue her, when the

The moon, which was now up, and gleaming in the opposite casement, presented to his

sight the plumes of the fatal helmet, which rose to the height of the windows, waving

backwards and forwards in a tempestuous manner, and accompanied with a hollow

and rustling sound. Isabella, who gathered courage from her situation, and who

Dreading nothing so much as Manfred’s pursuit of his declaration, he cried—

“Look, my Lord! See, Heaven itself declares against your impious intentions!”

“Heaven nor Hell shall impede my designs,” said Manfred, advancing again to seize.

the Princess.

At that instant, the portrait of his grandfather, which hung over the bench where they

had been sitting, uttered a deep sigh, and heaved its breast.

Isabella, whose back was turned to the picture, saw not the motion, nor knew whence.

The sound came, but he started, and said—

“Hark, my Lord! What sound was that?” and at the same time made towards the door.

Manfred, distracted by the flight of Isabella, who had now reached the stairs,

and yet unable to keep his eyes from the picture, which began to move, had, however,

advanced some steps after her, still looking backwards at the portrait, when he saw it.

quit its panel, and descended to the floor with a grave and melancholy air.

“Do I dream?” cried Manfred, returning; “or are the devils themselves in league.

against me? Speak, internal spectra! Or, if thou art my grandsire, why dost thou too?

conspire against thy wretched descendant, who too dearly pays for—” Ere he could

Finished the sentence, the vision sighed again, and made a sign to Manfred to follow.

him.

“Lead on!” cried Manfred; “I will follow thee to the gulf of perdition.”

The spectra marched sedately, but dejected, to the end of the gallery, and turned into a

chamber on the right hand. Manfred accompanied him at a little distance, full of

anxiety and horror, but resolved. As he would have entered the chamber, the door

was clapped on with violence by an invisible hand. The Prince, collecting courage

from this delay, would have forcibly burst open the door with his foot, but found that

It resisted his utmost efforts.

“Since Hell will not satisfy my curiosity,” said Manfred, “I will use human means.

in my power to preserve my race; Isabella shall not escape me.”

The lady, whose resolution had given way to terror the moment she had quitted

Manfred, continued flight to the bottom of the main staircase. There she

stopped, not knowing where to direct her steps, nor how to escape from the

impetuosity of the Prince. The gates of the castle, she knew, were locked, and guards

placed in court. Should she, as her heart prompted her, go and prepare Hippolita?

For the cruel destiny that awaited her, she did not doubt but Manfred would seek her.

there, and that his violence would incite him to double the injury he meditated,

without leaving room for them to avoid the impetuosity of his passions. Delay might

give him time to reflect on the horrid measures he had conceived, or produce some

circumstances in her favor, if she could—for that night, at least—avoid his odious

purpose. Yet where to conceal herself? How to avoid the pursuit he would infallibly make

Within the castle?

As these thoughts passed rapidly through her mind, she recollected a subterraneous

The passage which led from the vaults of the castle to the church of St. Cholangitis. Could

She reached the altar before she was overtaken. She knew even Manfred’s violence.

would not dare to profane the sacredness of the place; and she determined, if no other

means of deliverance offered, to shut herself up for ever among the holy virgins

whose convent was contiguous to the cathedral. At this resolution, she seized a lamp.

that burned at the foot of the staircase, and hurried towards the secret passage.

The lower part of the castle was hollowed into several intricate cloisters; and it was

not easy for one under so much anxiety to find the door that opened into the

cavern. An awful silence reigned throughout those subterraneous regions, except now

and then some blasts of wind that shook the doors she had passed, and which, grating

on the rusty hinges, were re-echoed through that long labyrinth of darkness. Every

The murmur struck her with new terror; yet more she dreaded to hear the wrathful voice of

Manfred urged his domestics to pursue her.

She trod as softly as impatience would give her leave, yet frequently stopped and

listened to hear if she was followed. In one of those moments, she thought she heard a

sigh. She shuddered, and recoiled a few paces. In a moment she thought she had heard

the step of some person. Her blood curdled; she concluded it was Manfred. Every

The suggestion that horror could inspire rushed into her mind. She condemned her rash

flight, which had thus exposed her to his rage in a place where her cries were not

likely to draw anybody to her assistance. Yet the sound seemed not to come from

behind. If Manfred knew where she was, he must have followed her. She was still in

one of the cloisters, and the steps she had heard were too distinct to proceed from the

way she had come. Cheered on this reflection, and hoping to find a friend in

whoever was not the Prince, she was going to advance, when a door that stood ajar, at

some distance to the left, it was opened gently: but ere her lamp, which she held up,

could discover who opened it, the person retreated precipitately on seeing the light.

Isabella, whom every incident was sufficient to dismay, hesitated whether she should

proceed. Her dread of Manfred soon outweighed every other terror. The very

The circumstance of the person avoiding her gave her a sort of courage. It could only be,

she thought, some domestic belonging to the castle. Her gentleness had never raised

her an enemy, and conscious innocence made her hope that, unless sent by the

Prince’s order to seek her, his servants would rather assist than prevent her

flight. Fortifying herself with these reflections, and believing in what she could

Observing that she was near the mouth of the subterraneous cavern, she approached the

door that had been opened; but a sudden gust of wind met her at the door.

extinguished her lamp, and left her in total darkness.

Words cannot paint the horror of the Princess’s situation. Alone in so dismal a place,

her mind imprinted with all the terrible events of the day, hopeless of escaping,

expecting every moment the arrival of Manfred, and far from tranquil on knowing she

was within reach of somebody, she knew not whom, who, for some reason seemed

concealed thereabouts; all these thoughts crowded on her distracted mind, and she was

ready to sink under her apprehensions. She addressed herself to every saint in heaven,

and inwardly implored their assistance. For a considerable time she remained in an

agony of despair.

At last, as softly as was possible, she felt for the door, and having found it, entered

trembling into the vault from whence she had heard the sigh and steps. It gave her a

kind of momentary joy to perceive an imperfect ray of clouded moonshine gleam

from the roof of the vault, which seemed to be fallen in, and from whence hung a

fragment of earth or building, she could not distinguish which. It appeared to have

been crushed inwards. She advanced eagerly towards this chasm, when she discerned

a human form standing close against the wall.

She shrieked, believing it the ghost of her betrothed, Conrad. The figure, advancing,

he said, in a submissive voice—

“Be not alarmed, Lady; I will not injure you.”

Isabella, a little encouraged by the words and tone of voice of the stranger, and

recollecting that this must be the person who had opened the door, she recovered her

spirits enough to reply—

“Sir, whoever you are, take pity on a wretched Princess, standing on the brink of

destruction. Assist me to escape from this fatal castle, or in a few moments I may be

made miserable for ever.”

“Alas!” said the stranger, “what can I do to assist you? I will die in your defense; but

I am unacquainted with the castle, and want—”

“Oh!” said Isabella, hastily interrupting him; “help me but to find a trap-door that

must be here about, and it is the greatest service you can do me, for I have not a minute.

to lose.”

Saying these words, she felt about on the pavement, and directed the stranger to

search likewise, for a smooth piece of brass enclosed in one of the stones.

“That,” said she, “is the lock, which opens with a spring, of which I know the

secret. If we can find that, I may escape—if not, alas! courteous stranger, I fear I shall

have involved you in my misfortunes: Manfred will suspect you of being the accomplice of

my flight, and you will fall a victim to his resentment.”

“I value not my life,” said the stranger, “and it will be some comfort to lose it in trying.

to deliver you from his tyranny.”

“Generous youth,” said Isabella, “how shall I ever requite—”

As she uttered those words, a ray of moonshine the streaming through the cranny of the

ruin above, shone directly on the lock they sought.

“Oh! transport!” said Isabella; “here is the trap-door!” and, taking out the key, she

touched the spring, which, starting aside, discovered an iron ring. “Lift up the door,”

said the Princess.

The stranger obeyed, and beneath appeared some stone steps descending into a vault.

totally dark.

“We must come down here,” said Isabella. “Follow me; dark and dismal as it is, we

cannot miss our way; it leads directly to the church of St. Cholangitis. But, perhaps.”

added the Princess modestly, “you have no reason to leave the castle, nor have I

Further occasion for your service; in a few minutes I shall be safe from Manfred’s

rage—only let me know to whom I am so much obliged.”

“I will never quit you,” said the stranger eagerly, “until I have placed you in safety.

nor think me, Princess, more generous than I am; though you are my principal care—”

The stranger was interrupted by a sudden noise of voices that seemed approaching,

and they soon distinguished these words—

“Talk not to me of necromancers; I tell you she must be in the castle; I will find her in

spite of enchantment.”

“Oh, heavens!” cried Isabella; “it is the voice of Manfred! Make haste, or we are

ruined! and shut the trap-door after you.”

Saying this, she descended the steps precipitately; and as the stranger hastened to

Following her, he let the door slip out of his hands: it fell, and the spring closed over

it. He tried in vain to open it, not having observed Isabella’s method of touching the

spring; nor had he many moments to make an essay. The noise of the falling door had

been heard by Manfred, who, directed by the sound, hastened thither, attended by his

servants with torches.

“It must be Isabella,” cried Manfred, before he entered the vault. “She is escaping by

the subterraneous passage, but she cannot have got far.”

What was the astonishment of the Prince when, instead of Isabella, the light of the

torches discovered for him the young peasant whom he thought confined under the

fatal helmet!

“Traitor!” said Manfred; “how calmest thou here? I thought thee in durance above in

the court.”

“I am no traitor,” replied the young man boldly, “nor am I answerable for your

thoughts.”

“Presumptuous villain!” cried Manfred; “dost thou provoke my wrath? Tell me, how

hast thou escaped from above? Thou hast corrupted thy guards, and their lives shall

answer it.”

“My poverty,” said the peasant calmly, “will inculpate them: though the ministers of

a tyrant’s wrath, to thee they are faithful, and but too willing to execute orders

which you unjustly imposed upon them.”

“Art thou so hardy as to dare my vengeance?” said the Prince; “but torture shall force

the truth from thee. Tell me; I will know thy accomplices.”

“There was my accomplice!” said the youth, smiling, and pointing to the roof.

Manfred ordered the torches to be held up, and perceived that one of the cheeks of the

enchanted casque had forced its way through the pavement of the court, as his

servants had let it fall over the peasant, and had broken through into the vault, leaving

a gap, through which the peasant had pressed himself some minutes before he was

found by Isabella.

“Was that the way by which thou didst descend?” said Manfred.

“It was,” said the youth.

“But what noise was that,” said Manfred, “which I heard as I entered the cloister?”

“A door clapped,” said the peasant; “I heard it as well as you.”

“What door?” said Manfred hastily.

“I am not acquainted with your castle,” said the peasant; “this is the first time I ever

Entry it, and this vault is the only part of it within which I ever was.”

“But I tell thee,” said Manfred (wishing to find out if the youth had discovered the

trap-door), “it was this way I heard the noise. My servants heard it too.”

“My Lord,” interrupted one of them officiously, “to be sure it was the trap-door, and

He was going to make his escape.”

“Peace, blockhead!” said the Prince angrily; “if he was going to escape, how should

He come on this side? I will know from his own mouth what noise it was I

heard. Tell me truly; thy life depends on the.'' .

TO BE CONTINUED....