“I shouldn’t, if I were you,” a soft voice murmured just behind him. “Not unless you really fancy drifting about the ocean until you fetch up on some bleak, deserted island with no sustenance but the blood of seabirds. Unless, of course, you’re eaten alive by sharks before you get there.”
Rufus turned to see Springer, wrapped up against the rain in a voluminous greatcoat and with water dripping from the wide brim of his hat. “Come,” he said, taking Rufus by the arm. “This isn’t the answer.”
Still feeling half dazed, Rufus allowed himself to be led back to his cabin, where Springer instructed him to take off his sodden clothes, pulling off his own coat and hat as though by way of example. While Rufus meekly obeyed, Springer hunted through his cabin trunk for some dry garments and a towel.
“That’s better,” Springer pronounced, once Rufus stood before him in dry shirt and trousers. “Here.” He tossed Rufus his dressing gown. “And a little brandy, I think. I’m sure I saw a bottle in there somewhere.” He turned back to the cabin trunk.
Rufus stared at him. “Brandy? But I thought you—I mean we—couldn’t…?”
“We certainly can’t process food,” Springer said over his shoulder. “Ah, here it is.” He turned to face Rufus, the bottle in his hand. “But small amounts of liquid from time to time seem to do us no harm, and in this case I think will be positively beneficial.” He poured a little into the glass that still stood on the bedside table from when Rufus had been ill, and proffered it to him. Rufus took it and gave the contents a cautious sniff. “Drink it,” urged Springer. “I assure you it won’t harm you.”
Rufus sipped the brandy, feeling its heat spread through him, warming him from the inside.
“Good.” Springer sat down on the chair that had somehow never found its way back to the dining salon. “Now, Rufus, I think you and I need to have a little chat. Don’t worry about Serafina,” he added, reading Rufus’s unspoken question. “Right now, she’s back in our cabin reading one of the lurid Gothic romances she seems to favour.”
“But why hasn’t she…?”
“Visited you? My dear Rufus, is there any reason why she should live in your pocket?” Rufus shook his head, looking petulant. “It may surprise you to know that Serafina hasn’t been finding things much easier than you have. In some ways, she’s still quite naïve, and she really hadn’t counted on your reacting as you have to joining our family.” He held up his hand to forestall Rufus’s reply. “Believe me, I don’t blame you, and if she’d taken my advice...well, she chose not to, and since it’s now a fait accompli, you have no choice but to try to come to terms with it.”
“That’s easier said than done,” Rufus muttered in sullen tones.
“Undoubtedly, but that’s hardly the point, now, is it?”
Rufus hunched his shoulders. “I suppose not.”
Springer sat up straighter on his chair and looked Rufus in the eye. “Quite. Now stop acting like a sulky child and pay attention. I’m going to tell you a few home truths, and if you don’t want to spend the rest of a very long life making yourself and everyone around you miserable, I advise you to take note of them.”
“Yes, sir,” said Rufus, feeling very much as though his headmaster were about to give him a lecture.
Springer nodded, pursing his lips. “First, you’re going to have to come to terms with what you are. I’ve already counselled you to retain as much as you can of your humanity, and I still advise this, no matter how difficult it might be, if only to avoid becoming the rabid monster of your fears. However, you’re not human any longer, and the sooner you accept this, the better for your state of mind. When Serafina brought you across, you underwent a number of physical changes as well as the mental ones that are still settling into place. As we’ve already discussed, your body can no longer process food – fortunately, this change is compensated for by a corresponding lack of appetite for it.”
Rufus nodded. “I’ve already noticed that. What I really miss is ordinary human company.”
“That will pass in time, or at least abate considerably. Personally, I find it easier not to consort with those I must look on as potential sustenance, unless I need to transact business with them. But then I’ve never been the convivial type. Serafina, on the other hand, still craves some of the human pleasures, especially dancing and music. But mixing with humans can be dangerous – and not just for them. The simple fact is it’s a very rare human who can face the existence of vampires with anything approaching equanimity – fear of the ‘other’ runs far too deep in them for that. And what people fear, they usually seek to destroy. The life of a hunter, Rufus, is a lonely one and filled with dangers, yet it does have its compensations.”
“Such as?” asked Rufus, fixing Springer with a sceptical gaze.
“I’ve come to believe,” Springer told him, “that nature has compensated us for our loss of humanity by giving us not only superior mental and physical powers, but also an enhanced enjoyment of the very thing that makes us vampires.”
“Drinking blood you mean?”
“Precisely. You’ll have noticed how…delicious that can be.”
Rufus looked down at his hands, which he had been clenching without realising it, and slowly uncurled them. “But awful, too, sir. However wonderful it may feel at the time, and even afterwards, it’s an appalling thing to do. Surely you must acknowledge that.”
“Indeed,” said Springer. “From a human perspective it is. Have you ever been on a pheasant shoot?”
Rufus stared at him, startled. “Of course I have, on my father’s estate. What’s that got to do with anything?”
“And you enjoyed it?”
“Yes, it’s good sport.”
Springer shrugged. “How do you think the pheasant feels as your bullet tears into its flesh?”
“But that’s completely different!”
“Is it? You shoot pheasants because their flesh is your food. We bite humans because their blood is ours, and unlike humans, who can become vegetarians if they find killing fellow creatures unacceptable, we have no choice in the matter. We do what we do because it’s the only sustenance we’re capable of taking. The most we can do is to ensure we do as little harm as possible, and that we leave our prey with no unpleasant memories. If nature has seen fit to make the experience a pleasurable one for us, why not enjoy it? What I’m trying to tell you, Rufus, is that you have no real choice but to accept what you are and make the most of it. As I’ve already pointed out to you, there’s no point in trying to kill yourself. You almost certainly won’t die, unless you manage to throw yourself onto a bonfire, or drive a stake into your own heart.” He paused, staring up at the ceiling as though deep in thought, then shot Rufus a sudden hawk-like look. “Of course, cutting off your head would also kill you, but I fancy that could be a little tricky without help…”
Rufus burst out laughing. “Enough, sir, enough! You’ve got your point across. I don’t think it’ll be easy, but I will try to come to terms with being a vampire.”
“Good. And while you’re about it, I advise you try your best to overcome your anger towards Serafina. I, of all creatures, understand it, but I also understand that however imperfect her reasoning might have been, Serafina did what she did because she loves you. So if you’ve any sense at all, you’ll forgive her and then get on with being happy with her. Oh, and it’s pointless torturing yourself with jealousy whenever she feeds from other men. It should be obvious to you by now that those are the easiest prey for her, just as women are for you, and if you’re going to resent that as well, we’re all going to have a very miserable time of it. I could, of course, use mind control to change your feelings, but frankly I think it’s better if you come to terms with them yourself. You’re no longer the pampered son of a wealthy aristocrat, so the sooner you get used to standing on your own feet, the better. I’m sorry if you find that harsh, but I urge you to give it some very serious thought.”
“I will, sir,” said Rufus, when he finally f
ound his voice. “Though in all fairness I feel I must point out that I was hardly pampered, at least not after my mother died. I don’t suppose you’re familiar with English public schools, but I can assure you they don’t go in for pampering.”
Springer gave a wolfish grin. “Touché. However, I stand by the rest of what I said.” He unfolded his length from the chair and walked to the door, gathering up his coat and hat on the way. “I’ll bid you goodnight, now, or rather good morning, since dawn is approaching.”
Rufus stood and went to shake Springer’s hand. “Goodbye, sir, and thank you. I do appreciate what you’ve told me, and I promise I’ll try to do better in future.”
Springer flashed another, rather more kindly grin and left.
FIFTEEN
Several nights later, not long after Rufus had returned from hunting, there was a knock at his cabin door. It was Serafina, biting her lip and twisting nervous hands together.
“Are you still angry with me?” Her voice sounded stiff and wary, as if she was uncertain what to expect. “If you are, I’ll go away. I don’t wish to argue with you any more.”
Rufus stood back to let her enter the cabin, closed the door and offered her the chair to sit on before returning to his perch on the bed. “Serafina, I’m trying to come to terms with what I am, but it goes against everything I’ve been taught was right. I don’t want to argue with you either, but I’m not going to pretend everything is fine just to keep the peace.”
Serafina’s gaze softened, and a tentative smile touched her lips. “I do see now it was wrong of me to bring you across as I did. I was so afraid you’d die, and there didn’t seem any other way to save you. But you were right to call me selfish. I brought you across because I didn’t want to lose you.”
“If I’m honest with myself, I didn’t want to lose you either, and from what Mr Springer has told me, it would have been next to impossible for us with me human and you vampire. I’m not finding it easy. I’ve never experienced anything so completely overwhelming, but I promised him I’d try my best to adapt, and…what?” He broke off as Serafina collapsed into giggles.
“Mr Springer!” she spluttered. “Why do you keep calling him that? It sounds so—so English!”
“I am English,” Rufus protested. “I was only being polite. What am I supposed to call him?”
“Anton, of course! Mr Springer!” She dissolved into another fit of laughter.
By now, Rufus had caught her amusement, and the two of them tumbled together on the bed clutching at each other and giggling like children. Before long, Rufus’s arms were about Serafina’s waist and the blood ecstasy was singing through him. He kissed her, and tasted fresh blood on her lips. At that moment, he didn’t care whose it was or where she had been. With impatient fingers they undressed. Rufus ran the fingers of one hand down Serafina’s spine, and felt her body arch against his in response. Before he became quite overwhelmed with desire, he recalled their first time, and how Serafina had used her mind control to stay his urgency. Could he do the same? He felt Serafina’s wordless response telling him how to accomplish it. So they made love, every smallest nuance of passion enhanced and extended beyond anything Rufus would have believed possible, like the slow movement of a symphony that reached sublime heights again and again before rising to a final crescendo that left Rufus breathless and complete.
This time, when the blood music subsided, instead of fear or depression, Rufus was left with a languorous sense of wellbeing and the tentative beginnings of an acceptance of himself as a vampire.
* * * *
As the Orion continued to sail northeast, the temperature became noticeably warmer, despite the fact that she was sailing into the Southern Hemisphere winter. In keeping with the season, the weather was often damp and cloudy, confining passengers indoors for days at a time, and so few passengers went abroad at night that Rufus often had to hunt among the steerage passengers.
One night, as he was setting out to hunt, he caught sight of Eleanor Fox sitting alone in the darkened dining room. She seemed to be crying. As Rufus entered she looked up, her face red and streaked with tears.
“Rufus! You shouldn’t be here with me. Toby…”
Rufus shook his head and went to sit opposite her. “Where is he? What’s he been doing to you? If he’s hurt you, I’m going straight to Captain Standish, as I should have done before.”
Eleanor shook her head, dabbing at her eyes with an already sodden handkerchief. “No, he hasn’t hurt me – at least not physically. He’s just…he goes drinking with those two friends of his – though I can’t imagine where they get their alcohol from – and then there’s just no reasoning with him at all. I’m frightened of him, Rufus, and I don’t know what to do!”
Rufus reached out and placed his hand over hers, but she withdrew it as though afraid her stepbrother might walk in on them. “Are you afraid he’ll hurt you?”
“Yes—no—oh, I don’t know! I just hate it when he’s like that. He—he rants at me, and orders me about, and nothing I can do or say seems to stop him!”
“I wish there was something I could do,” Rufus said, feeling helpless to act for fear of making matters worse. “Is there one of the other women passengers you can talk to, or perhaps Doctor Wells? He’s very kind, and he might be able to help you. I’m sure he’d like to know about the drinking – it’s against ship’s protocol, you know.” A twinge of guilt pricked at him as he thought of his own concealed store of brandy.
“I know.” Eleanor stared down at her hands, twisting her damp handkerchief. “But if they try to stop him, he’ll know it was me who gave him away, and then he’ll be worse than ever.”
Rufus said nothing for some minutes, trying to think of some feasible way of helping her. With his strength, he had no doubt of his ability to deal with Fox, but administering a beating would be certain to make things worse for Eleanor in the long run. “You know,” he said at last, “if you were to make some discreet inquiries, it wouldn’t surprise me if you could arrange a position you could take up as soon as we reach Auckland, or at least a family with whom you could lodge. A number of the families on board have young children, and one of them might well value your help. I know it’s probably not ideal, and it doesn’t help you during the rest of the voyage, but at least you’d have an escape route planned for when we disembark.”
Eleanor looked at him with a watery smile. “Rufus, that’s a wonderful idea. Or it would be if only Toby would let me out of his sight for long enough. He doesn’t leave me alone for a minute during the day.”
“Perhaps you could ask Doctor Wells if he can make inquiries on your behalf. I dare say he knows as much about the passengers as anyone else on board. Surely your brother won’t object to your seeing the doctor if you have, let’s say, a sick headache?”
“No, but he’s bound to insist on coming with me.”
“Hmm, then you’d better make it ‘women’s problems’. That should keep him away. It certainly worked with my father. The slightest hint of women’s ailments and he’d suddenly find an urgent need to be elsewhere.”
Eleanor gave a throaty chuckle. “Yes, I should think that’ll do the trick. Thank you so much, Rufus.”
Rufus took her hand and gave it a sympathetic squeeze. “Not at all, I only wish I could have been more helpful.”
“Oh, but you have! I think I can just about put up with Toby now I have a plan for getting rid of him once we reach Auckland. But I’d better go now. He’s out with his horrid friends again, and if I’m not there when he gets back, there’ll be the devil to pay and no pitch ready.”
With these colourful words, Eleanor thanked Rufus again, wiped her tears away with the sleeve of her gown, and hurried off.
When Rufus returned to his cabin, he found Serafina curled up on his bed reading his book of Shelley’s poems. She looked up as he entered and replaced the book on the bedside table.
“You took a long time. Did you have trouble finding someone?”
Ruf
us shook his head. “I wasn’t just hunting.” He gave her a brief account of his conversation with Eleanor, explaining that she was Toby Fox’s sister. Serafina gave a hiss of anger. “What a cruel, horrible man! He deserves to be taught a lesson!”
Rufus nodded, grim-faced. “He certainly does, and I’d happily do it myself if it could be done without making things worse for Eleanor.”
Serafina said nothing. The frown creasing her brow suggested she was deep in thought, though Rufus could gain no inkling of what those thoughts might be. At last, she looked up at him. “I need to hunt now. Will you come with me?”
Rufus and Serafina made their silent way through the shadowy passageways between the cabins, hoping to find some lone person asleep in one of them. But it seemed no one was asleep yet except children and babies. From almost every cabin came the murmur of conversation. Serafina signalled to him that they should try on deck – the night was so fine and clear that surely someone would be out walking. To their surprise, however, the deck was completely deserted, apart from the dimly lit watch house, and the sounds emanating from there suggested it was occupied by more than one person. Creeping closer, they saw two sailors playing cards, and smelled the sweet, heavy odour of rum. After a few moments, they decided it was too risky to approach the two unless they were left with no other alternative.
Slipping away through the shadows, Rufus and Serafina turned their steps towards the steerage quarters, always something of a last resort due to the stench created there by the combination of unwashed bodies and clothing, primitive cooking facilities and latrines, and a lack of fresh air. At first they heard nothing but the usual snoring, coughing and stirring of bodies indicating the inmates were sleeping; so much the better for their purposes. Then there came a sound like a rusty gate, and the hatch covering the women’s quarters began to rise slowly, emitting a gust of warm, foul-smelling air. Serafina glanced at Rufus and the two of them shrank bank into the shadows cast by the watch-house walls, drawing in their energy fields to make themselves invisible to the figure now emerging from below decks. Somewhat to their surprise, it revealed itself to be a man.
A Different Hunger Page 14