Chapter 8

"Come in, Chaos," Vycandor said, his rich deep voice a not so gentle command. "I've been expecting you."

   I narrowed my eyes. "How did you know it was me?"

   "Don't you remember, my dear?"

   I shook my head, then realized he couldn't see me. "No."

   "Your power," he murmured softly. "It calls to me." When I didn't respond, he added, "Did you come back to finish the job?"

   My eyes went wide. "Come again?"

   He tossed his head back and laughed – the sound as disturbingly heartbreaking as the song he continued to play on the grand piano.

   Without admitting it, I knew exactly what he meant. He'd been waiting for me to show up and destroy him. The very thought sickened me, making me tremble all over. That overwhelming sense of attraction I felt the very first time I laid eyes on him, returned with a vengeance. I had to force myself not to rush to his side and beg for forgiveness. After all, I still didn't know if I could completely trust him.

   "Would you care to join me?" he asked, voice a silken caress. His otherworldly energy breathed along my skin, forcing my heart to skip a beat or two before it started beating even faster.

   I really hated it when he tinkered with my pulse like that. Okay, maybe I liked it...but just a little.

   Taking a deep calming breath, I blew it out slowly. "I don't know how to play the piano."

   He laughed again, this time tilting his head to the side, causing his long flowing hair to sway back and forth. "I bought you a little something." Nodding to his left, he added, "Over there."

   I glanced at the red velvet couch and noticed a black case that hadn't been there before. At least, I didn't think it had been there before.

   Carefully making my way toward it, I opened the case to reveal the most beautiful violin I had ever seen. Clearly a priceless antique, it still retained a highly polished finish – the color a deep, golden orangey-red. The name printed on the original label from the 1600's said it all. I was not just staring at the finest example of an Italian violin hand crafted by non other than Antonio Stradivari himself, I was staring at an authentic master instrument. The kind rarely viewed (if ever) by the public at large. The kind that when turned over would reveal an exquisite flame back tiger pattern. And more importantly, the kind that wasn't even supposed to be in existence. A ghost of a violin known only as the "voice of angels." 

   My fingertips itched with anticipation as I picked up the bow. Placing the violin carefully under my neck, I rested my chin on the guard. Only hearing the song Vycandor played once before a long time ago, I recognized it immediately as Nature Boy, by Eden Ahbez. Although never actually playing it myself, I was relieved to find the sheet music proudly displayed on the stand and joined in when he started the piece again from the beginning.

   The warmth and fire this violin produced fed my finely tuned ears with an explosive sound far superior to mine, was much more sophisticated, and probably cost a small fortune...uh, scratch that...probably cost a huge fortune.

   More than I could ever expect to make in a lifetime.

   Forgetting to pull back my hair, long flaming tendrils sailed through the air, accentuating the agony of the song. I glanced over at Vycandor who watched me with eyes like deep wells of compassionate gloom. He surprised me badly when he added his haunting tenor vocals to the song – the lyrics of which sounded much more like a personal message he desperately wanted to deliver:

"There was a boy

A very strange enchanted boy.

They say he wandered very far, very far,

Over land and sea.

A little shy

And sad of eye,

But very wise, very wise was he...

Until one day,

One lucky day he passed my way,

And while we talked of many things

Fools and kings,

This he said to me:

The greatest thing

You'll ever learn

Is just to love

And be loved

In return."

   A single tear escaped my eye as I drew the bow across the strings for the last time. The question of whether or not Vycandor retained any of his humanity after being turned into a monster, had just been answered.

   Before I had a chance to ask if he realized that we belonged together, he turned to me and smiled. "I promised myself that if you ever returned, I would tell you a story. A story about a great and tragic love." He paused, clutching his chest as if in excruciating pain. When he finally continued, his voice broke. "But above all things, a love that will last forever."

   I dropped the violin and rushed to his side, just as he was about to fall over. With a strangled cry, I drew him into my arms, smoothing his hair away from his face.

   That's when I saw it.

   Deep scarlet blood, seeping into his thin white shirt. Using one arm to hold his head, I used the other to rip open his shirt. He'd been using bandages to stop the bleeding, and now they too were soaked in blood. Gently peeling them away, I exposed the hole I'd left in his chest after blasting him with Holy Water. The skin around the wound – raw and angry.

   But there was also something else. Something much worse than the wound itself.

   Tipping his neck back, I felt his forehead as his eyes rolled into to the back of his head. He had a massive raging infection, and now he was going into shock. I knew if I screamed, Sebastian would come running to my side, but I remained silent. So silent.

   Vycandor's skin turned from that familiar creepy shade of  blue – that somehow only added to his beauty – to a sickening color of gray. His breathing became more and more shallow, until I finally realized that he was going to die in my arms, and it was all my fault.

   Drawing his head tightly to my chest, I whispered, "Forgive me."