by Tanja Neise
I listened deeply inside myself, prompted by these words, but there was nothing that would somehow lead me to my sister. The two men watched me intensely. Quietly giving in, I shook my head.
Olivia Morgan / Margaret Rumsfield
How was I supposed to respond to that question? Could I go so far as to trust him with the truth? Trust? No, certainly not. “Perhaps, while drinking my blood, some of your dreadful narcissism trickled onto your taste buds.”
I’d hardly even finished the last word when I felt his hand on my neck. A hand that I hadn't seen coming and which kept forcing me back until I hit a wall with my back. A picture frame fell and hit the floor with a clatter, but Ladorre ignored it. His gaze kept me well and truly pinned down.
“The only reason I’m going to let you live is because your blood isn’t poisoned. And as soon as I’ve made you my wife, I’ll show you what it means if you don’t keep that mouth of yours shut. Remember that. You’re there to give me your blood and your body. Otherwise, you're scum, and worth nothing more than the dirt under my fingernails.” As he spoke, he exposed his fangs and pressed a little harder against my neck. I began seeing stars, and my head was beginning to pound. “Never forget that!” Finally, he let go of me. Wheezing, I sank to the floor, clawed my hands into the threads of the carpet and stared at the face of Mona Lisa. There was a slight crack at the bottom of the world-famous painting, but Ladorre walked past the work of art as if it was worthless. Just as I was worthless in his eyes, except for the meal he saw me as.
After I’d taken a hold of myself a little, I stood up and reached for the valuable picture. Unfortunately, I failed to notice the sharp edge of the glass, which had broken as it fell. The cut didn't hurt much, but this old frame was probably full of germs it’d picked up over the years. A shiver ran down my spine – not because of the cut, but because I was aware of how old the picture was and how many myths surrounded it. I carefully placed it against the wall, and made sure Mona Lisa’s smile was facing the wall, so that it wouldn’t be damaged any further. When I’d finished, I looked around the room a little more extensively and discovered further similar, sought-after works of art that had allegedly been destroyed during the vampire wars. Quite obviously, that had been a fallacy. I fervently hoped that one day all of these items would be returned to a museum and made accessible to the general public.
Ladorre was sitting at his desk and had opened a news projection. He was hastily leafing through the various reports and obviously couldn’t find what he was looking for, which I could see from his increasingly sullen facial expression.
My stomach growled. I was quite sure I wouldn't find anything to eat in these private exhibition rooms. So I tried to ignore the wrenching in my stomach, which I managed rather poorly. Since I didn't know what to do, I sat down on the carpet again and waited.
I must have fallen asleep because suddenly I was awoken by a buzzing noise. With my eyes stuck together and my mouth dry, I slowly straightened up. Ladorre went around the corner and activated the elevator. Who had rung the bell? Who was he expecting? The person he’d spoken to on the phone before was presumably arriving now. I really didn’t feel like dealing with more of these psychos.
Since the master of the house had disappeared from my field of vision, I hurriedly looked for an object, which I could use as a weapon if necessary. When I heard the elevator door open, I reached for the very first one and put it in my waistband. I would surely have enough time later to take a closer look at it.
With wobbly knees I stood upright in the middle of the room. Ladorre walked in and smiled at me. “This is my guest, and future wife. We still have to get her some suitable clothes as soon as we land in Europe. And her stomach’s constantly growling, so we should stop at a snack bar before we go to the airport. You got that?
The man he was talking to stepped behind him into the room and looked at me. His eyes widened and his mouth formed an unvoiced O.
The same expression could probably be seen on my own face, as I recognised the man and finally knew how we’d been outsmarted.
“Good evening, Miss Morgan,” said the traitor.
Ladorre looked back and forth between us. He evidently found our little spectacle amusing, but I remembered my good manners and said: “Good evening, Spencer.”
Robert Tensington / Raphael
I’d hoped that Anne would be able to use this extraordinary bond at her command, but it wasn’t the case. I’d already heard twice before that twins with vampiric blood possessed the same bond as vampires who’d performed the ritual. Perhaps it was because Anne and Margaret weren't identical twins, or because they hadn't seen each other for so long and had distanced themselves mentally from each other. I knew nothing; I only knew one thing – the responsibility of finding Liv now lay solely with me.
I didn't even want to begin to imagine what would happen if we didn't find her in time. Would I be capable of killing my own father? The mere thought of Liv in his arms gave me my answer. Yes, I’d do it if there was no other way. The only question was whether I could react quickly enough while my brain was weighing up all the pros and cons of my actions.
Anne and Dark were silent, looking out of the windows as if we were on a sightseeing tour and the views of the rundown area were incredibly interesting. Only then did I realise that I’d made a turn several times without having consciously made the decision to do so. I let myself be steered further. By my intuition? Was that it? Was it my bond with Liv, or in fact my overtired mind that was quite simply going crazy? It was our only chance, so I continued, hanging on by a thread.
Dark activated his earpiece. “Dark!” Then he listened. “What? No, stay tuned. Don't do anything that could endanger them.”
The slight panic in his voice made me prick my ears up, full of curiosity. For a moment I looked at him, quizzically, as he ended the conversation, but he shook his head and stared out of the window again. From then on, though, he resonated with an impatience that threatened to poison the atmosphere in my car. I didn’t inquire, for if I’d learned anything in the course of our knowing each other, it was that Dark was one of the most stubborn beings I’d ever met. If he wanted to tell me something, he’d do it. Otherwise, it would be like getting blood out of a stone, so I let it go.
The buildings rushed past my eyes and the further I drove, the more dingy the area became. Meanwhile we’d reached an apartment block that looked as if it had been uninhabited for many years. But inside of me something was beginning to buzz – I was seized with feelings of excitement and agitation, which made me want to jump out of the car. After I’d steered the car to the edge of the road, I got out and blocked out everything else. I couldn’t tell at that moment whether Dark and Anne were following me. My blood seemed to be boiling and every beat of my heart was calling a name: Olivia. I turned left and ran across the deserted street towards a house that seemed to be about to collapse. Oddly, the front door was made of steel, which didn’t fit with the rest of the house.
It had to be attached with several bolts as thick as arms, as it didn't move a single inch. Dark approached me and had a go at it, too, but even he couldn’t open it, either.
“Back entrance,” I muttered, and before we knew it, our three pairs of feet were already hurrying to the back of the building. Behind a dilapidated gate entrance, we uncovered the door we were looking for.
“Eye scan, fingerprints and speech recognition. Well someone definitely has something to hide.” Dark's words were dripping with sarcasm.
“Can you get it open?” Anne asked him, in a soft tone.
A triumphant smile appeared on Dark’s face. “A piece of cake.”
Anne returned his smile and said: “I know!”
The two were definitely a good match. They understood each other and spoke the same language. I’d eat my hat if Dark had finally found the right partner. I looked fondly on the match, as it would bind this man even more closely to me and my company. I didn’t want to ever lose this guy now.
Anne and Dark checked their weapons, and I had one pressed into my hand, too. Essentially, I hated these modern defence mechanisms. If I had the choice, I’d always choose a sword, but in this day and age I’d have no chance using it against an attacker or, as in this case, a kidnapper. A kidnapper who happened to be my father and was aiming to take away my love.
All three of us were highly tense, had unlocked our weapons and were ready to strike. Finally, the doors slid to the side. The fight could begin.
Olivia Morgan / Margaret Rumsfield
So it was Spencer all along! The nice, old chauffeur, who hadn't given me the slightest impression, even for a moment, that he was up to anything devious. The disappointment at his betrayal tasted bitter, like bile. Even my inner alarm system hadn’t been alerted to him. Probably because he’d never behaved slyly, but was always aware of himself. He’d been of the opinion that he was acting properly. How wrong he was!
“I'm sorry, Miss Morgan.” The guy actually still had the courage to confront me with his bad conscience. He sheepishly lowered his eyes and kneaded his hat between his hands. He was the incarnation of bad conscience.
A tremendous rage spread through me. I could hardly contain myself, and screamed at him: “What are you sorry for? That you betrayed your boss? That I’m going to be some kind of blood and sex slave here for this tyrant?” Ladorre was laughing, next to me. He should have stayed quiet; he didn't interest me. A hatred was bubbling inside me, which looked for its equal. They must have thought I was hysterical.
“Mr Tensington has never been my boss. My master’s son mistakenly assumed that I had no master. He was wrong. I have always been in the service of Mr Ladorre. He is the one to whom I swore to devote myself, which is why I started working with his son; after all, he had to know what he was up to. Fathers are like that.” For a moment, a smile begging for understanding flitted over his face, but I ignored it and stared at him angrily instead. “I'm sorry you got dragged into this. That was never my intention.” He lowered his head and avoided looking into my eyes. They were probably already shooting out lightning bolts, at least, that's how it felt.
“Fathers are like that?” I squawked, curtly. But then I reflected, and continued in a moderate tone: “And so you initiated a diversionary tactic via the military and, whilst doing so, set your boss free.”
Ladorre placed himself between us. “That's enough now. Spencer is my closest confidant. He performs excellent work and everything has gone just as we intended. Get used to him; he’ll be staying with us from now on.”
“Oh, so you don't need a spy to keep an eye on Robert anymore?” I hissed, like a wild cat. I defied what might be considered good manners and spoke to him in a derogatory tone, since he had addressed me in the same way. I didn't care what the two men thought of me.
“It's not like that. Spies are always required, but dear Spencer has performed a crucial service for me. In consequence, this will make his return to his assumed master impossible. They would kill him immediately.” Ladorre made an impatient gesture with his hand. “Come on, let’s go now. We can gladly continue this conversation in the car.” I wanted to play it just right. The air in here was so dense – impregnated with the dust of several centuries and the malice of a vampire.
With a sudden jerk, Ladorre pushed me towards the lift. I stumbled, but his grip around my upper arm prevented my fall. My gaze darted towards the reversed Mona Lisa painting, momentarily. She would be here, left behind, until she was remembered again. She didn't deserve that. Nevertheless, I envied her, because I couldn’t predict what would await me now. I just wanted to scream and fall into Robert's arms, but that was as impossible as a cold day in hell.
The doors to the lift opened the moment I raised my head again.
Anne Rumsfield
Ever since Dark had been on the phone, he’d been giving off a vibe that distressed me. I couldn't quite identify why, but it was spreading inside me like poison.
After we’d stepped into the lift, we took out our weapons. I was ready – ready for a fight. Secretly, I was even looking forward to it. I was itching to try out my new skills. To see how sharp my own eyes were now, how well and how quickly my reflexes worked. I focussed, blocked everything else out, to be prepared for what was about to come. Just because I had become a vampire, I couldn’t simply discard everything I’d learned.
When the lift doors opened, I was tense and on high alert. But what I hadn’t anticipated was the splendour, the gold and the valuable works of art that were on display in the very spacious room. Nevertheless, I tried not to let it distract me.
Dark signalled to me which side I had to check. Robert took the happy medium, Dark the left and I the right. With weapons drawn, we strode across the room, but there was nobody else present. I was about to put my weapon away, when a signal from Dark triggered my complete concentration. He’d uncovered the entrance to a secret room and was now trying to open the door, which could only be discovered when standing directly in front of it. Astonished, I watched as he took something out of a bag he’d strapped around his hips when we left the car. He had a very fine set of tools in his hands, which I could identify as a Dietrich toolkit. I’d certainly already heard about it and seen it during my training, but I’d never had to use anything like it myself. And who knew whether I could even do it at all. I thus observed every movement Dark performed. After a few seconds, the lock clicked; a part of the stonework slid to the side and revealed a room that was crammed with weapons, which brought tears of joy to my eyes. The contents of this apartment were worth a fortune and much more, since many of these items were certainly reminiscent of particular times in history. The sentimental value could be multiple times higher than the monetary value. Mr Ladorre was a collector, like it said in the books.
Robert walked alongside the wall. “Look, some pieces are missing here. The guy has obviously stocked up on everything he needs to defend himself.”
I could only agree with him, even if I didn't know which weapons he’d selected and taken with him, it was clear to me that he knew what he was doing. The equipment that was stowed here was testament to the fact that he was someone who loved weapons and most certainly knew how to use them, too.
Dark, on the other hand, ran back into the living room and inspected every nook and cranny. “She must’ve been here, definitely.”
Robert and I took notice, left the weapons room and joined him. “How do you know?” I asked, because I couldn't explain to myself where he was gaining this insight from.
Dark's smile became wider as he led us to a reversed picture frame. “Mona Lisa gave it away.”
You could literally grasp Robert's impatience with your hands, when he exclaimed: “Tell us!”
Dark lifted the frame up and turned it around. I actually recognised the famous Mona Lisa painting. Painted by that painter. I think he was Italian. What was his name again?
As if he’d been listening to my inner monologue, Dark enlightened me straight away. “May I introduce the famous Mona Lisa. Here in my hands, you see the world-famous oil painting by Leonardo da Vinci, from the heyday of the Italian Renaissance at the beginning of the 16th century. It was stolen from the Louvre during the vampire wars. And it’s sitting here, unloved.”
“Come on, spit it out, Dark! What did you find out?” Robert growled at him, with a rage-distorted face. Evidently, he couldn't take much pleasure in the wonderful lecture Dark had just given. I, on the contrary, found it highly interesting and could have listened to him for quite some time.
Dark clicked his tongue, disapprovingly. “Philistines. But I don't want to be that guy. Here, look.” He pointed to a dark spot on the frame. “That's Liv's blood; she
must have paid attention to that picture, just like you. And promptly cut her finger while doing so.”
I was glad. “Robert, at least this shows that your Margaret-Olivia radar works. We can find her. Let's go!”
Robert Tensington / Raphael
I couldn’t share the joy the other two were experiencing, because Ladorre was hungry, incredibly hungry, and if he’d smelled Liv's blood in this state, he would have completely lost control. If not, then he’d already drunk on her. Either way, I didn’t like it. My claim to possessing this woman couldn’t be exaggerated enough. It was as if we had already bonded in the ritual. We were already bound in at least some way – not entirely, but to a great extent. Neither of us still had a desire to have fun with another sexual partner. For my part, it even went so far that I didn’t tolerate any blood except hers. These were all facts, or rather conditions, that one entered into when performing the ritual. You were bound to the other and dependent on them until you or your partner died. I wouldn't complain, though, because I loved Olivia from the bottom of my heart and was glad our paths had finally crossed.
“Let's get out of here. The longer we hang around here moping, the further away they will have got!” Anne was bossing us around in a typical military tone. It ought to be all right with me, after all, it was what I was thinking.
All at once, life was breathed into our small group and we bolted for the lift.
“Do you have any idea which direction they might be heading?” she dug deeper, looking at me, full of hope, as the lift doors closed and I noticed the slight pressure as we were being hauled down.