"My father, being a stubborn man, spoke no more of Azazel; and beyond that night I did not lay eyes on him again until we stood face to face the night my brother Silas should have died." Genève said, lost in a tragic nostalgic haze.
I had not been looking at Genève as she relayed her story, so it did not register that she had passed out until I heard the muffled thud of her glass hitting the carpet. I did want desperately to hear the rest of her story, but I thought I had better lean on the side of compassion and allow her to sleep.
"God Genève ..." I muttered as I tried to lift her limp body from the floor. She was a small woman, svelte even, but as dead weight, lifting her promised to gift me a sore back, so I opted to drag her to the couch. Once I had her settled I left her in the office to sleep off the vodka and her misery.
"Je suis désolée, Azazel ... Je suis désolée ..." I heard her mumble before I closed the door. I did not understand what she was saying, but I heard the regret and absolute sorrow driving her words, and it broke my heart.
I had not had as much to drink as Genève, so as I ambled through the softly lit, silent hallways of the massive villa I did so with much more courage than I had had hours before, sober and with a house full of people. When I reached the top of the stairs I could not help but stop in front of the immense gothic tapestry of the family tree I had studied briefly before the party. Then, I could not see the names closer to the bottom as there had been a man working on it, and I had been in a hurry whilst trying to make my escape.
But now, the house was quiet, and I had ample time to study the beautiful blood red curves and swirls of the tree. It looked as if it had been created from one long churning line. It was stunning work. And then there were the names of the family sewn delicately on the branches, the top being much fuller than the bottom. Soon I found the names of the most recent Rossi's. Paola and Marco and their joined branches with the names of their children sweeping below, Alessandro, Donata, and Luca; and suddenly I spied what the man had been working so diligently on only hours before ... a name, newly sewn shown the way only new golden thread can ... on a branch joined with Alessandro's was mine, Nicolette Rossi.
I reached out to touch the thread. Part of me I suppose did not trust that it was really my name that I was reading. I mean, the tree, it not only served as a striking work of art, but more than that, it was a record, a record of an ancient family, one that seemed to be woven just as tightly as the thread on the tapestry. I found it difficult to process the implications of my name having been added to the work. In all honesty, I really did not understand what it meant. My own family was never close. I mean, yes, we travelled together all over, but normally on our trips my parents worked nonstop while I was entertained by Au Pairs and distant relatives I could barely understand, much less connect with. So now, being drafted into such a close-knit family baffled me.
"What the hell am I supposed to do?" I asked myself. Looking up I noticed one of my most favorite paintings. The "Girl with a Pearl Earring" peered over her shoulder at me demanding dignified grace; and she brooked no argument. I was a Rossi now, come hell or high water, I was a Rossi. I did not have time to process my feelings on the subject anymore as a faint cry distracted me. I started down the hallway towards Genève thinking that she had woken, and panicked at not being in her own bed, but the cry quickly turned into a furious scream, and at once I knew that she still slept soundly.
"Genève!" Luca's voice rang out in rage from somewhere below where I stood. "Let me out! I've done nothing wrong!" He called. It was the first time since his break down that I had heard him. I assumed that meant that before they locked him up he had been given a sedative of some sort.
"I'll kill him ..." he cried out again. "I'll kill him just as I killed her! Let-me-out!" he screamed again. As he became more coherent, his voice became stronger and stronger, he served as my beacon as I traversed the otherwise silent halls in search of my quarry. As I walked past a huge ticking clock, art strewn walls, and beautiful gilded candelabra I felt much like I had stepped through Alice's looking glass. I giggled to myself some as I imagined a white rabbit darting out from a corner as he frantically checked his pocket watch.
"I'm still buzzed..." I chuckled to myself as I walked on. The end of my journey lead me to two massive chrome industrial doors, wholly out of place in the classically styled villa. They reminded me of passageways one might find in a hospital. I pushed through the doors and I finally began to realize the true vastness of the Rossi manor as I passed over the threshold from lavish house to a cold sterile clinic. The passage I had stepped into was one long dead-end hallway with three doors on each side and one door at the very end of the hall. Luca's enraged rant came from behind this last door.
"Who's there?" He asked frantically as the doors shut behind me. The magic that the vodka had worked on me quickly faded when I saw his face in the window of the cell he was locked in. His once angelic, impish smile was now a twisted crazed snarl; and when his bitter hard eyes found mine, my blood ran cold. I did not realize that I had stopped moving forward until I jumped backwards into the doors I had just passed through when Luca slammed is fists into the glass rattling his cell door.
"Let me out!" He screamed at me; his voice cracking in his angst. I wanted to say that I couldn't, but quickly found that I could not speak and instead swallowed the words audibly as I shook my head in negation of his demand. At my refusal, he slammed the door again this time sliding down behind it as he broke into a long sob.
"Please..." he whimpered as I turned to go. I could not figure out what it was I had planned to do down there with a crazed centuries old vampire after all, so I opted to leave him to his desolation. I had one foot out the door when he spoke again.
"Don't go, Nicolette ..." he said, his voice ragged. "Please don't leave me down here alone."
"I-I can't let you out Luca ..." I said finding my voice. He did not respond right away, and the door handle remained in my trembling grasp.
"Genève?" he questioned.
"She is alright ... " I replied letting the door slip from my hand closing myself back in the hallway as I made my decision to stay.
"I left her sleeping upstairs ..."
"Alone!" He demanded with a new panic in his voice.
"No not ... I mean yes, alone, but ..."
"You have to let me out of here, now Nicolette ... Azazel ..."
"He is not here!" I said with haste. "Your father sent him and Alessandro away ..."
"What, father sent them away, together? But that makes no sense, why did he send my brother with Azazel?"
"H-he is to remain with him until an agreement can be reached ..." I said hesitantly
