~ Forever Yours ~

by

Josephine Templeton

Vincent’s body hung limp against the chains that kept him tied to the dungeon wall. His arms were pulled behind him in an awkward angle, and Katherine knew they had to be broken. Thankfully, he was unconscious.

At the sight of her beloved, Katherine started to rush forward, but Beaux had hold of her arm and yanked her back. She fell on her derriere at Beaux’s feet, and he angrily jerked her up.

Pursing her lips tightly, Katherine fought the rage building inside. She was rapidly becoming tired of the way Beaux treated her. She forced herself to be patient.

Transferring his hold of Katherine to his left side, Beaux pulled his dagger free of its sheath and stepped close to his intended victim. He raised the knife over his shoulder and brought it towards Vincent’s prone form.

Certain of his intent, Katherine threw herself at the last second between the flashing steel and Vincent. The blade sank into her shoulder, and she collapsed to her knees, blood flowing everywhere.

Shocked, Beaux let go of her hand and stepped back. His eyes narrowed as it dawned on him what her act meant. She would die for Vincent.

His temper flared out of control. Unable to stop himself, he kicked Katherine as hard as he could in the stomach. Then he pulled her up and threw her across the room. She screamed as she hit the wall and slid to the floor, too weak to rise. The pain caused to tears to spill down her face.

“Why?” she mumbled. “Why are ye doing this? Why can’t ye let us be?”

Ignoring her pleas, Beaux looked at Vincent. The commotion was causing him to stir. Vincent was coming out of the healing sleep.

“Just in time, old friend,” Beaux sneered.

Groggily, Vincent raised his head, wincing in pain when he tried to move his broken arms. He looked around in confusion. Licking his lips, he asked quietly, “Is this Hell?”

Beaux laughed. “Oh yes, dear friend, it is Hell indeed.”

Raising his eyes to his former comrade, Vincent took in the scene before him. He jerked upright at the sight of Katherine crumpled on the floor.

“Bastard, what have ye done to her?” Vincent cried. He looked at Beaux and shook his head. “It wasn’t enough that ye took her once before.”

Leaning close, Beaux growled. “Aye, friend, yer right about that.”

Beaux could not fathom why he was so upset. Something in him craved Katherine’s love. He was insanely jealous of Vincent, had always been so even when they were lads. Vincent had everything. Beaux felt the only reason Vincent had befriended him was because he felt sorry for him. Well, no more pity for poor abused Beaux.

Swiftly crossing the room, Beaux grabbed Katherine by her hair. His rage blinded him as he yanked his dagger from her shoulder. Her scream rang through the room, but he paid no heed.

Making sure Vincent had a perfect view, Beaux drew the knife across Katherine’s neck. Her eyes widened in shock as blood poured from the gaping wound. Within seconds, she was sucked into the healing sleep, defenseless.

Then Beaux ripped her head from her body and held it before him like a talisman. He swung it back and forth before Vincent.

Vincent’s stomach churned. Anger filled him, and he tried to move. White fire ate at his broken arms. He was powerless. His eyes blazed red as hatred rose in him.

“If I can’t have her, my friend, neither will you,” Beaux muttered.

Mercilessly, Beaux’s fist smashed into Katherine’s mouth. Both head and body instantaneously turned to dust. Vincent’s heart suddenly ached with an indescribable pain. Just like that, his love was gone.

Silence descended upon the two vampires as they stared each other down. “Let me lose, ye cowardly dog,” Vincent yelled, straining against the chains. Without the use of his arms, he lacked the strength to escape.

“Rot in Hell, Vincent,” Beaux replied and turned to leave. He knew that Vincent’s arms would not heal at such an odd angle. Thus, he would be unable to escape unless someone helped him. That thought stopped Beaux cold, and he faced Vincent once more.

The dagger felt heavy in Beaux’s hand. He felt drained but knew he had to silence Vincent. Without a tongue, his old friend would have a hard time summoning help.

Beaux took two steps and was knocked to the ground. The black panther never hesitated as his massive jaws ripped at the vampire’s back. Beaux screamed in pain but was unable to shake the panther. The large cat ripped Beaux’s spine from his back. The vampire instantly collapsed into the sleep, and the panther proudly laid the glistening spine at Vincent’s feet.

“Took ye long enough,” Vincent whispered wearily. The cat lowered its head. “No matter. Better to be late than not at all.”

~ * ~

When morning came, so did one of the servants. Vincent clouded the man’s mind to keep him from seeing Beaux’s body. Like a zombie, the young man released Vincent from the chains and returned upstairs. He would remember nothing.

Steeling himself against the pain, Vincent forced his arms forward, snapping them back in place. Then he fell face down on the floor as the healing sleep swept over him.

~ * ~

It was a week before Vincent woke. His hunger was ravenous, but so was the heart-wrenching memory of losing Katherine. He stood on shaky legs, and his world spun. He bent down with his head between his knees until the nauseating feeling passed.

Then he picked up Beaux’s body by his head. It was perfectly preserved. That which made it vampire still coursed through the flesh, and Vincent knew all he had to do was press the spine back into his body and the flesh would mold together. However, this was not his intention.

Vincent popped one of the fangs from Beaux’s mouth, hesitating before the final blow. He was in a vengeful mood and releasing Beaux’s spirit would be too merciful, even if Beaux went straight to Hell. So Vincent ripped Beaux’s head from his body, gathered up all the body parts, and set off to hide them where no mortal would ever find them.

~ * ~

Vincent returned to the castle with his mission accomplished. His Katherine was avenged, but as is often the case, revenge was a hollow thing. He sank to his knees as loneliness punched him in the chest. His heart hurt so bad he wanted to rip it out. Blood-tears dripped down his face as he mourned the loss of his love. Beaux was right about one thing. Vincent was in Hell.