The Revelation of Dacey Sinnett

Chapter Sixteen: The Reunion

Dacey's face crinkled up in revulsion at the thought of Kalet with Taavetti.  He found it hard to believe that such a beautiful woman would have no other options.  Did she have no sense of self value at all?  However, despite his disbelief, that was the fate he'd gleaned from Barton's thoughts.  Kalet had indeed ended up marrying Monsieur Taavetti Guillory.

The vampire hung back in the shadows near Guillory's home.  The windows were all dark and, considering the hour, he was sure that the household was asleep.  Although, in light of the life that Kalet once led, it was hard to imagine her already tucked away for the night.

Why was he even here?  His curiosity should have been quelled once he knew that she was alive and safe.  What did it matter to him who she was married to or how she'd chosen to live?  He knew he certainly didn't have any right to make any judgements as he had been the one to reject her.

It was his ego.  The one factor that he always fell the foolhardy victim to.  If she had married anyone else then he wouldn't have cared.  But she'd chosen Taavetti.

So, here he found himself, hiding in the darkness and hoping for a miracle that he would see a glimpse of her.

Luck ever on his side and fortune paying favor to the bold, the front door of the upscale two-story home slowly cracked open.  Dacey held his breath (out of an old habit rather than necessity) as he saw Kalet carefully close the door behind her.

She almost blended into the shadows herself in a long dark grey dress and her face was concealed beneath a matching fascinator that employed a veil.

My sneaky little mistress, what are you up to now?, Dacey wondered gleefully as he expertly crossed the street in silence to follow a few paces behind her.  She appeared to be headed toward the nightlife of Montmartre.

"Once you vow yourself to the siren of the night, it's impossible to ignore her song.", Dacey finally broke the silence with a knowing quip as he caught up to her.

Startled, Kalet froze in her tracks at the familiar voice and accidentally dropped her purse.  Dacey had to mind his step in order not to collide with her.

He bent down and recovered her small black velvet bag and rose to meet her face to face for the first time in a decade.  Her eyes were wide and full of terrified wonder as they met his behind her veil.  He handed her the purse and pulled back the sheer tulle fabric from her face.

"That's better.  Why would you ever want to hide those splendid eyes?", he smiled lovingly.  Seeing her again brought back a whirlwind of feelings that he thought had died with his humanity.  Apparently, they had just been laying dormant waiting for a trigger.

Kalet was speechless and the eyes that he'd referenced were quickly brimming with tears.  He read her astonishment, her relief, and her resentment.  Ultimately, though, the thing he clung to was that he could see she still loved him.

As she began to gather herself and finally take a real grip on her purse, he glanced down at her wedding ring consideringly and then pouted at her.

"Madame Kalet Guillory.  Really?", he teased.

That seemed to do the trick.  She quickly collected herself from her shock and all of the emotions that she had bottled up inside years ago came out in a self-satisfying slap to his face.

"How could you?!", she accused, the tears finally finding their release and marring the rogue on her cheeks.

Seeking the opportunity to take advantage of her emotional vulnerability while he could, Dacey touched his hands to her face adoringly and wiped her tears away with his thumbs.  He leaned in and planted a passionate and apologetic kiss upon her lips.  He felt her relax in his familiar embrace.

Pulling back every so slightly, he rested his forehead on her's and closed his eyes in an earnest effort to make amends.

"I'm so sorry, my darling.", he whispered.

"I thought you were dead.", she confessed through strained sobs as she tried to avoid more tears.

"That seems to be the popular opinion of the night.", Dacey noted as he pulled back to give her some space.

"You just disappeared and never came back.", she said as she wiped away the rest of her tears herself.  "We looked for you.  The police said they found blood in your room but no trace of you.  You had vanished and left all of your things behind."

"I know.", he offered simply.

"I...I thought he had killed you!", she confessed.

"Who?", Dacey asked with bewilderment.

"The man in blue.", she said.  That's when it all made sense and he read the rest in her eyes.  The Montmartre murders had ended the day after Dacey and Marcus left town.  Everyone believed that he'd been the final victim of a traveling serial killer.  Kalet had been grieving for an entire decade and had never stopped until this moment.  Her marriage to Taavetti was nothing but a play for self-preservation.  Her heart had become wild and reckless in its sorrow.  In fact, she was on her way to meet with a lover that she kept in secret.  Another man that she felt nothing for because he wasn't Dacey.  She just enjoyed the small thrill from one of the many self-destructive games she'd resorted to playing to pass the time until she too died.

Dacey took her into his arms and hugged her more tightly than he had probably hugged anyone in all of his existence.

"I'm a monster.", he sighed.  He was referring to his selfishness at leaving her behind without an explanation but as the words fell from his lips he also deemed it a confession.

"You're not dead, though.", her voice perked up as she shifted from sadness to delight.  She pulled back and beamed at him.  Her eyes seemed to dance with life much like she herself used to back when they were lovers...when they were best friends.

"Well, not entirely.", he admitted with a smirk.  The nuance was lost on her as she took in his visage with a new found peace of mind.

"You look exactly the same.  My handsome, Dacey.", she complimented.  This time she was the one to touch his cheek adoringly.

It wasn't really until she made the observation that Dacey noticed the fine lines of age that had begun to creep up on Kalet's face.  She was still more beautiful than most women her age but he could see the difference.  It didn't trouble him in the least, though.  He found she wore it well.

A drop or two of wetness graced his face and for a moment he wondered if his vampiric condition were betraying him and miraculously granting tears.  He quickly realized that it was just a light rain that had sprung up.

"May I buy you a drink somewhere?  Your choice.", he offered with a generous grin.  "I'll be happy to explain everything once we get you out of the weather."

"You have no idea how much I would love that.", she agreed.

He took her hand in his and they made their way back to Montmartre, both with an obvious spring in their step at the joy of their reunion.

* * *

Back at their room, Marcus sat in a wingback chair in stoic silence staring at the grandfather clock directly opposite him.  With each tick that filled the quiet space he grew more jealous of Paris and more impatient with Dacey.