Belle Morte Bites (Belle Morte 4.3)

Elise: Part Four

France, 1941

Ludovic's boots sunk into the snow, and wind as sharp as a knife whipped his hair off his face.

The midnight sky was heavy with cloud, not a star to be seen, and white flakes still drifted through the sky, settling on the small village huddled at the foot of the hill he was standing on.

His heart felt like a lump of stone in his chest, but there was no running away this time.

The moment he'd heard the rumours about a demon preying on rural villagers, a demon who took the shape of a beautiful young woman with flame-red hair, he knew that it was Elise.

He knew that this time he had to stop her.

Ludovic made his way down the hill and into the village.

Animals in their pens eyed him curiously as he passed, but nothing stirred in any of the houses. Lifting his head, he scented the air. Blood – lots of it. He followed the smell, moving silently through the snow, tracking it to a small house that was as still and dark as the others. But when Ludovic strained his ears, he caught a whisper of movement from inside.

The door swung open at his touch.

Inside, the house was pitch-dark, no candles or moonlight to cut through the shadows, but Ludovic' vampire eyes didn't need the light.

He found Elise in the bedroom, crouching over a slumped shape on the floor. Her head jerked up as he came in, lips twisted in a feral snarl, eyes burning like hot coals, red as blood.

"Ludovic," she said, and he almost cringed at the sound of her voice.

Once he'd loved the way she said his name. Now it seemed a cruel mockery of what they'd shared.

"You have to stop this, Elise," he said.

She straightened up, dropping her victim. She hadn't carefully bitten him like vampires should; instead she'd ripped into his throat with her fangs. Blood smeared her face and pooled across the floor.

Ludovic was older and stronger than Elise, but he recoiled from her then, a bolt of fear stabbing into his chest as his mind flashed back to the night he'd become a vampire. He'd never forgotten the utter terror he'd felt facing down Jehanne, soaked as she was in his friends' blood, or the red-hot pain as she tore at his neck like a wild animal.

"You never did understand being a vampire," Elise said, licking blood off her fingers.

"Maybe not, but I refuse to accept that it is about this. It's not about killing people."

Elise's face darkened, glittering with violence. There was nothing left of the woman he had fallen in love with, only a kind of madness, a deep bloodlust that would never be quenched. Maybe she wasn't like Jehanne yet, maybe she never would be that out of control, but she was still too dangerous. Too many lives had already been lost.

"Are you going to stop me, Ludovic?" she said, low and deadly.

Ludovic gazed back at her. He hadn't gone after her last time because he hadn't been able to bring himself to hurt her, even as Claudine's body was cooling in his bed. But that self-indulgence had cost more lives. He had turned her, he had left her to run wild – the blood of her kills was as much on his hands as it was hers. This was his responsibility, and he couldn't hide from it anymore.

"Yes, Elise," he said, resolve hardening inside him. "I'm going to stop you."

She leaped at him as the last word left his mouth, and they crashed against the wall, Elise snarling like a rabid dog. Ludovic threw her off. She landed in a crouch, fire in her eyes.