by Nix, Imogene
Her stomach rumbled loudly in the empty room, the churn painful as the lack of food was brought to her attention. Lunch had been a cold affair, and Hope’s appetite non-existent as the three senior women of the household had sat picking their way through a meal none of them wanted.
Alexa had been there with her blonde hair artfully tied back. She’d also showcased her willowy frame to perfection. Hope had been irked by her vaguely superior attitude as she had wandered into the family dining room. As usual, Alexa was a fashion plate with her fitted hot pink pants and light cotton blouse, immaculate and much more suitable for the weather, while Hope had felt overdressed in her black pantsuit and heels.
Hope had moved the salad and cold chicken around her plate as she’d listened to a muted discussion of nursery design. Was mint more appropriate or should she steer towards cream with gold scrollwork? Her mother’s replies, warmer towards Alexa than they were to her, had reinforced the emotional chasm that now existed between them.
She had made her excuses as soon as she could, and fled the room, but not before her mother had made the announcement to Alexa that Hope would be taking over the household in the next few months.
Alexa’s eyes had narrowed, and for an instant Hope had seen dislike…no, hate spike through her cold blue eyes, while her lips had flattened with distaste.
Now, standing alone in her room, she looked up into the mirror, critically examining herself. Violet eyes, blue-black hair long and fastened back in a faultless chignon. Classically simple diamond drops at her ears and throat, and the long black and silver gown made her look like an adult, but inside, where it counted, she felt like a lost little girl playing dress-up in someone else’s life.
How was she to get out of this? Even as she pondered the thought, the phone buzzed and she reached absently to answer. “Hope here.”
“Miss Hope? The guests are due to arrive momentarily and the Master is expected in a few minutes. Your mother asked me to let you know that you are expected.” The voice was vaguely apologetic, and she knew Gareth was uncomfortable passing along the summons. No doubt, the household had already heard about the tensions in the family. She felt a moment of embarrassment as her skin flared hot and she closed her eyes. It wasn’t fair to live in a goldfish bowl like this and subject others to the angst within her family.
“Tell my mother that I am on my way, thanks, Gareth.” She replaced the receiver, then with a last look at the woman she saw in the mirror, the one with lost eyes, Hope turned away, her arches already reminding her she was unused to the high heels her mother had chosen.
Hope moved along the shadowed hallway and down the steps, slowly this time, fearing the evening ahead as the usual dull and dry event her parents enjoyed. Then she brought herself back to where she was. It wouldn’t be auspicious if she started the evening with tripping and embarrassing her mother any further before she even reached the bottom.
Once she stopped and glanced around the foyer it was clear that her mother would insist she be with them to receive the guests in the ballroom. She moved in that direction, heels tapping on the floor as she entered through the open door. Her mother and father waited with David and Alexa. Both men looked fine in their perfectly tailored black tuxedos, while Alexa stood, her appearance ravishing in her midnight blue gown, no doubt chosen to match her eyes, and cut low enough to show her shadowed cleavage, emphasised by the sparkle of jewels glinting like a million stars around her neck and at her ears and wrist.
Her mother, regal in a powder blue, two-piece long skirt and camisole-styled top, teamed with a light lace bolero, looked as fashionable and elegant as always.
Hope felt like an ugly cygnet beside them, and once more the feeling of being out of place swept through her.
“Hope. You are just in time. The Master has graciously offered to act as your escort for tonight.” Her voice was once more subtly censorious and she saw a glint of something in Alexa’s eyes.
“Yes, you must have an escort, Hope. It is expected.” Her brother repeated her mother’s mantra as he looked at her, with a hint of coolness in his eyes. A surge of emotions swam through her. Was she incomplete or less of a woman, because of this? She’d never felt this sense of loneliness before, but maybe it was because everyone seemed to be withdrawing from her. But the question remained. Did she really need a man, a husband, to belong now?
The sounds of feet came from behind her and a scent redolent of male teamed with leather filled the air. The subtle fragrance warmed and reassured her, and she turned slightly to see Xavier, the Master, waiting behind her. His smile might have been considered slightly condescending, but languorous warmth spread through her body. She gazed at him in silence. He held out his hand and she had no choice but to accept it. But did she really want to avoid it? A new feeling rose in her chest, calling to a primal need within.
“Excuse me, Verity and James.” He inclined his head slightly before continuing. “David and Alexa, may I have a moment with Hope?” It was, of course, a rhetorical question, as who would stop him anyway? He bowed slightly and pulled her away from the others. The burning feeling of eyes watching made her back itch slightly, while they moved together through the bright ballroom to the doors beyond.
“Hope, you look exquisite. Welcome home, officially.” He smiled, and her stomach felt like it melted while he pulled her through the French doors, which stood open to allow guests to move around the gardens when the crush in the ballroom became too much. The smell of roses was heady in the night air, and the stars twinkled above. Soft tones of the band preparing caught her ears. But all these things felt so far away and insignificant.
She couldn’t define exactly how he made her feel, but new emotions pulsed through her at the look on his face, holding her in thrall. She wanted to touch him and this was a totally alien sensation for her.
The scary stories told for centuries spoke of the mesmerising gaze of vampires, though they were nothing but fantasy. But for one brief moment, she could almost believe they were true. Her heart beat faster and her mouth dried. And all she wanted was to kiss this man before her.
Of course, that sort of interaction remained forbidden to all but the one who would become his life mate—the one he would turn, and make his partner for the length of his unnatural life. Or casual partners, something that would never be allowed by her parents. She chafed against the constant strictures and rules.
Even so, the urge to touch him called. Hope had to remind herself that he wasn’t for her. Her fingers curled against the want until she felt the cut of nails in the palm of her hand once more, the sting holding her in place.
“Thank you, Master.” The words settled quietly in the night.
“No, you do not call me Master. I am Xavier to you. Always Xavier.” His smile was enigmatic, and in that instant she wished she knew more about him. Those vibrant green eyes of his intrigued her—they reminded her of deep pools and cool nights, and she wanted to dive into them.
Hope shook her head. Flights of fantasy about the Master were not a good start, she told herself. She just wished her body would listen to her brain.
“Should we…?” The question trailed away, as she got the feeling that he too was in no hurry, but how could that be? She felt breathless contemplating those thoughts. Flights of fancy, Hope mentally castigated herself.
“Yes, we should go back in. The guests will be arriving, and we should be in the line.” He indicated that they should go back into the room. She really didn’t want to go through with the social farce, but at this point there really was no other option. A loss of face now would have ramifications that she couldn’t escape as a nestling.
He indicated with a hand, long tapered fingers insisted she precede him, and obediently she moved into the room. “An old friend of yours is due to be here tonight.” His words perplexed her. Old friend? Who on earth could he mean?
He slipped her arm through his as they reached her parents. She could see David and Alexa at the start of the receivin
g line. She moved to take her traditional position and his hand stopped her. “No, my dear, you stay with me.”
Alexa must have heard that and for an instant a glare of arctic fury buffeted her, but was then quickly concealed. Her mother’s mouth tightened as she and her father resumed their places and placed her squarely beside Xavier.
The first guest entered the room, quickly followed by others.
People she knew, some of her peers from school and other nestlings renewing their acquaintance, made light chatter as they entered the ballroom. Congratulations flowed, while here and there other Masters and Mistresses came to pay their respects to the newly returned member of the house.
The room filled quickly, laughter and gaiety the order of the day, when suddenly the room hushed. She looked up from greeting a nestling to see her.
There in the doorway was a person she would never have expected to see again.
Cressida.
Age had not changed her, and for just a moment Hope felt suspended in a time long past. As a child, she had felt a connection to this vampire Mistress who now headed the Council—the governing body of vampires and their nests. Hope watched the introductions of Alexa and David—Alexa usually sparkled, but before Cressida she was diminished by Cressida’s grace and presence. Then she moved on, before her mother and father who made much of their shared history, a kiss on the cheek and clasped hands. Finally, though, with one last fluid move, she stood in front of Hope.
“Hello, Hope. I am so pleased to see you.” The words were spoken in a kindly tone. Hope felt a smile rising on her face, muscles stretching, and she breathed deeply, Once more the feeling of well-being coursed through her, just as it always had in Cressida’s presence.
“Xavier, you are lucky to have not just this nest, but Hope too. Now, let me take her for a few minutes so we can catch up.”
“Of course, Councillor Cressida.” He bowed urbanely and released Hope’s arm, the limb he hadn’t relinquished since they’d joined the receiving line, and for a moment Hope felt a keen sense of loss.
Cressida slipped her hand through, and propelled her towards the open door.
Hope contained herself until they had left the room, before turning to Cressida with a hug. “Oh, Mistress Cressida, it is so good to see you. It has been so very long since I last saw you.” Then she let go and stepped back, but Cressida took her hand, leading her across the slate tiles.
“Yes, child. I know. I have been looking forward to this for some time.” Then she stopped. “I take it you have been given a role within the household?” Cressida’s gentle question probed while she searched Hope’s face for a trace of…something. Sadness? Happiness? Hope didn’t know exactly what Cressida was looking for, as possible answers chased around in her head. Before Hope could answer, Cressida gracefully sank down to the stone seat, and patted the spot beside her. “Come sit with me for a moment, so we can talk freely.”
“Ah, yes, I have. Been given a role, that is.” The words were slow and she saw Cressida grimace.
“This is not what you want, I take it?” A sound must have given Cressida the answer she expected, as she shook her head. “I told them you would not be content with that. Your parents have never accepted what you could and would be.”
Something was coming, something momentous and life changing, Hope was sure. So she waited and before another breath Cressida resumed.
“Have they discussed that with you?” The words were asked casually, but Hope knew deep down that there was so much more to the query.
“Well, my mother told me today that I am to run the household, and essentially I should find a husband…” The words trailed away as she saw the disbelief on Cressida’s face.
“No! They never told you what you are?” Cressida’s eyes flashed as she watched Hope. Anger crept over her face, accentuating feral lines that became apparent, replacing the beauty that had been there just seconds before.
Hope flinched at the ferocity in the tone, and the look on her face. “Is there something else I should know?” Maybe here she would find the information she needed to understand the strained relations between herself and her family.
“I made it clear to them long ago that you should be told… Damn! I will discuss it with Xavier and your parents. That was never to be your role.” For the first time, Hope saw the cracked façade of calmness that Cressida habitually wore like a mask.
She looked enraged, and Hope felt a concern for her safety, a feeling she had never experienced with Cressida before. But what had appeared with a flash slowly dissipated once more, as Cressida obviously controlled her anger.
Cressida closed her eyes and breathed deeply. When she reopened them, all trace of the vampire within was once more gone. But a seed of disquiet had been planted in Hope’s mind.
“I need to talk to Xavier, but not tonight. He has not yet been told of your gifts, I would imagine. Tonight is your night to celebrate. You have finished your studies and are back within the nest, and that is something we should all celebrate.” Cressida smiled, patting Hope on the hand, and she felt her world stop for just an instant, as pleasure flooded her system.
Then Hope regained herself, remembering the manners that had been instilled in her from her early teenage years. “Mistress, do you require nourishment?” she enquired. It was inappropriate for her as a daughter of the Yeux Secondes to feed someone from outside the nest, but she could arrange for a suitable donor if required. She waited until the Mistress smiled, obviously aware that this had been drilled into her since a young age.
“No, my dear, I have brought my own. However, thank you for the offer. It is kindly received. Now tell me, how have you found the manor? When Cyrus purchased it, he did show it to me, and I liked it. Naturally, there seemed something homely about it.” Cressida smiled.
Hope laughed, remembering how Cressida had always found the old grey manor as homely, too. It had seemed ridiculous to a twelve-year-old that the house, filled with draughty corners and hard stone work, could be welcoming, but now it was just funny.
Hope was about to answer, when footsteps coming towards them alerted her to the presence of another, and Cressida smiled at her. “It is Xavier, come to rescue his damsel from distress.” She turned gracefully towards him, with a small smile and not for the first time Hope was struck by the grace in her movements.
“Xavier, you and I need to talk, but I think I will contact you tomorrow to discuss what is on my mind. Tonight is a time to drink, dance and make merry.” She gifted them both with a smile, and Hope rose automatically. “Now I need to go talk with the other guests, children.” Cressida stood, her movements regal and fluid, and she left Hope with Xavier standing in the cool breeze.
“It always strikes me as odd that she calls me a child, yet I am over four hundred years old.” He delivered the words with a bark of laughter. “She looks little more than a teenager, yet she is older than I.” He laughed again. “Come, my lady Hope, it is time for us to open the proceedings.”
Hope allowed him to take her hand into the crook of his arm, where she once again felt that amazing sense of well-being and belonging. Together they moved back towards the doors and into the throng of well-wishers.
Earlier, he had given in to the urge to take her aside, and heaven knew the need to kiss her had grown once they were on the terrace. Only the faint sounds of the arrival of guests had seen him stop before going too far, before he committed the cardinal sin of leaning in to touch those lush lips of hers with his, of testing and tasting her, the way his treacherous body demanded.
Now, here they stood again on the terrace, with the scent of roses eclipsed by the fresh essence of Hope that filled him. He could smell her, and his body hardened. A special presence and quality about her filled his senses and made him want her more than he already did. It was more than the smell of her body. Not the smell of copper that rose faintly from all humans, the scent of blood that always seemed to be around them. No, there was an indefinable quality to her,
one he sensed on many levels.
He ached to test the suppleness of her body. In this case though, the only way he could meet that need was through one of the dances. Perhaps, if he was lucky, he might also experience it in the act of lovemaking.
He had been Master of this nest for only a matter of months, so he had never before met her as she had been away, attending college. Nothing had prepared him for the emotional rush he’d felt in the library or again tonight. Thoughts of her had dogged his sleep, and he was finding it hard to concentrate on anything else.
It was a state of affairs that he was wholly unfamiliar with. A single woman drew him as none had ever done before, and that bemused him.
It upset his equilibrium. He had tossed and turned all day, as thoughts of her had raced through his mind, calling to him. Pulling him time and time again from the drowsing torpor he usually experienced in the realms of sleep.
His hand rested now at the base of her spine, urging her forward and into the crowded ballroom. He wanted to splay his hands over her body, the need to touch her silken skin pulling at him, and he realised he lightly caressed her through the gown. Warmth spread through him everywhere they touched.
Xavier escorted her to the podium that had been set up for the evening. Speeches first, then dancing and supper were the order of events, he knew, He looked around, while Hope answered the calls of the few well-wishers that knew her well enough to call out.
That alone confused him. She was beautiful, clever and talented. So where were her friends? Times surely hadn’t changed that much had they? Surely she didn’t walk through life as a solitary being? Why weren’t they here to share her triumph? He would ask later, he told himself, as they moved towards the front of the room. Just as he would get to the bottom of why her family treated her like a pariah.