Blood ran down his chin, but Laurent was laughing with pure delight.
"Go on!" he rasped.
"Hit harder! You saw her smile, didn't you? You saw how happy she was?"
Ethan roared and struck again. The stake slammed into Laurent's cheekbone.
The vampire's head snapped sideways, but he kept laughing through the blood.
"She was happy!" Laurent shouted, spitting black ichor.
"Happy to give up her body for something greater!"
Ethan wasn't hearing anything anymore. Every time that smile flashed in his mind, the rage flared even hotter.
He beat Laurent in the face again and again.
With his right fist, then his left, then the stake. Blood flew everywhere. Laurent no longer tried to defend himself. He simply sat in the armchair and laughed, even as his face turned into a bloody mess.
"Hit me!" he wheezed through split lips.
"Hit harder! You hate her, don't you?"
"You hate her because she betrayed you," Laurent kept talking through the blows to his face.
"Raaargh!" Ethan snarled with fury.
He struck without mercy or pause. For the first time in his life, he was attacking a vampire not out of fear or survival, he was beating him with pure, burning rage. Every blow was aimed not only at Laurent.
Flash stood by the door and watched in silence.
The pistol in his hand was lowered. He didn't intervene. A faint, almost imperceptible smile touched his lips.
He could see Ethan changing right before his eyes, as if something new was waking up inside him.
Laurent finally stopped laughing. His head lolled to the side. His face was a ruined, bloody pulp. Yet even now, mockery still flickered in his eyes.
Ethan stared at the beaten vampire and slowly turned.
Only the saxophone continued its lazy melody in the corner.
Flash finally spoke, his voice quiet:
"That's enough, Ethan."
But Ethan didn't answer.
Laurent slowly lifted his head. A fresh trickle of black blood ran from his shattered mouth, yet he still managed to smile.
"So…" he rasped.
"How much longer are you going to torture me, boy? Or are you finally going to do what you came for?"
Ethan looked down at him. There was no doubt left in his eyes, only cold, hard rage.
He raised the black stake with both hands like a spear.
"You've said enough," Ethan said softly.
And he struck.
The stake sank into Laurent's chest with a wet crunch, exactly where his heart beat. The wood slid through flesh as easily as through water. Laurent convulsed, his eyes widening in sudden pain.
"Aaah…" a short groan tore from him.
Ethan pushed harder, driving the stake deeper. The wood began to glow with a faint silvery-black light.
Thin cracks spread across its surface, and the first wisps of smoke rose from them.
Laurent grabbed the stake with both hands, trying to pull it out, but his fingers were already turning black and cracking.
He looked up at Ethan. The mockery was gone from his eyes,only surprise and a sudden, belated clarity remained.
"That girl…" he rasped, and his voice was already fracturing, as if several people were speaking at once.
"That girl… wasn't Maria…"
Ethan suddenly froze. He heard Laurent's words and stared at him in confusion.
He yanked the chain from around his neck. A silver key with an intricate pattern jingled as it came free. With his last strength, Laurent held it out to Ethan.
"Take it…" he breathed.
"It will show you… I can't… tell you more…"
The key dropped into Ethan's palm. Then Laurent smiled one last time, no longer mocking, but almost triumphant.
"Now… it's your turn," Ethan said.
Ethan jerked the stake free.
In that instant Laurent's body arched violently. Thick black smoke poured from the wound in his chest. Hundreds of voices screamed at once, merging into one long howl.
The smoke spiraled and was greedily sucked into the stake, as if the wood were a hungry mouth.
The silvery cracks on its surface flared brightly. Ethan felt a powerful, burning force pour into him.
But nausea followed right behind it.
His stomach twisted into a tight knot. His head spun so hard he staggered and nearly fell. Black spots swam before his eyes. He grabbed the back of the armchair to keep from collapsing.
The black lines on his left arm surged upward with new, ferocious strength. They shot from his wrist all the way to his shoulder in seconds, writhing like living roots.
The skin around them turned gray and cold. Ethan growled through his teeth, feeling something inside him changing.
Laurent twitched in the chair for a few more seconds, then slumped forward, dead. His eyes remained open. A final thin stream of black smoke leaked from his mouth and was also drawn into the stake.
Flash slowly lowered his pistol. He looked at Ethan not with judgment, but with heavy, understanding calm.
Ethan stared at Laurent's body, then at his own hands.
"I… killed him," he said softly, almost soundlessly.
The voices inside the stake were louder now. And somewhere deep inside Ethan, in the darkest part of him, something spoke quietly, almost tenderly:
"Good boy…"
Flash was the first to snap out of it. He quickly scanned the room, then looked at Ethan.
"We can't stay here," he said calmly.
"The girls saw us. They'll raise the alarm any second. We have only a few seconds."
"I'll search his study. You stay here and watch the door."
"Fine, but be quick, then we get the hell out of here…"
Flash stepped toward the large desk at the far end of the living room that clearly served Laurent as his study.