I shouted for someone to come. No one did.
I sobbed as the Thirst tried to tear me apart from the inside. Sinking to the floor, I raked my fingernails down my arms. Tiny rivulets of cold blood trickled down from the wounds as I cried for someone to come. Even him. Anyone.
After a while, I sank to the floor, exhausted, and hugged my knees as I rocked back and forth like a lunatic. Where was my tormentor? Didn’t he want to come and laugh at me? Hatred for him flooded me like cold fire, mingling with the red-hot pain of the Thirst.
‘Where are you, you bastard?’ I muttered to myself. ‘Hiding away somewhere like the coward you are?’
Suddenly the door opened and he came in, the man responsible for all this. Will.
He looked cool and as handsome as ever, while he regarded me with that unusual cat-like stare of his. His eyes flicked to the damage I had done to my arms, and he gave me an exasperated look. He put his lamp on the floor and I glowered at him but said nothing.
‘You have to stop this,’ he said tersely.
‘You make it stop,’ I almost snarled back. ‘You made it happen. You make it stop.’
With just two swift strides he towered above me, and I stared up at him defiantly. The air around him felt electric, dangerous. He looked like a predator about to strike.
‘I’m not afraid of you,’ I lied. ‘You’re just a bully.’
He suddenly grabbed me by my wounded upper arms and lifted me easily to my feet. I struggled more from a sense of pride than from any belief that I could get away.
‘Oh, but you are afraid of me,’ he corrected, ‘and so you should be. I can be a very frightening person.’
‘That just proves you’re a bully,’ I retorted. ‘So. Put. Me. Down.’
With a harsh laugh, he let go of me so abruptly that I lost my balance and fell to the floor. I looked around for some kind of weapon. Something – well anything I could use against him. Delusional, really, as Will might be many things but stupid didn’t appear to be one of them.
He licked my blood from his fingers lazily as he sat down on the bed, and his mesmerising eyes continued to hold my gaze. He raised dark brows as I swore at him in frustration.
‘Please behave yourself, fledgling.’ His mild tone held a hint of amusement.
I stood with as much dignity as I could muster, clutching my stomach as the pain erupted again. I fought to swallow the animalistic noises rising in my throat.
‘I really hate you.’
He didn’t bother to reply, merely lit a cigarette and leaned back on his elbows. I carried right on glaring at him, as the unfamiliar temper flared up inside me again, almost keeping pace with the Thirst. I ran my fingers through my tangled hair, and felt despair that it would ever look nice again. Still, what did it matter? I was dead wasn’t I? Only other dead people were going to see it apparently.
‘I don’t. Want. To. Be. Here.’ I emphasised each word. I watched him for some kind of a response. His face remained impassive and calm. He continued to smoke his cigarette, occasionally pursing his lips to make perfect smoke rings.
‘Don’t you understand? I don’t want to be here and I hate you!’
He frowned, but still made no comment.
‘Why don’t you say something?’ The incessant pain forced tears to my eyes.
‘I rather thought you were talking enough for both of us,’ he replied at last. His voice sounded as calm as ever, but with just a touch of something else. It still sounded like amusement to me, and that angered me even more.
‘Bastard,’ I muttered, more to myself than to him.
I began to pace the room, uncomfortably aware that his eyes never left me. Suddenly, he stood and crushed out his cigarette on the floor. I scuttled to the other side of the small room, keeping as far away from him as I could. He raised a sardonic eyebrow in my direction.
‘But you are not afraid of me, of course,’ his lips twitching into a slight smile.
‘Why are you still here?’ I demanded. ‘Take me home.’
‘You are in no position to order me around, little fledgling.’
‘Stop calling me that. My name is Ellie.’
‘I am well aware of that, and when you start behaving like Ellie, I shall call you Ellie.’
‘What the hell do you mean?’
He favoured me with a steady look. ‘Exactly what I say. Think about it.’
Thinking wasn’t something I could do at this particular moment. I was in too much pain and the art of thought and articulate conversation eluded me.
I sank to the floor and rested my head on my knees, which gave me a sudden feeling of déjà vu. I had done this before … felt like this before.
When? Why?
I cried quietly, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of seeing me fall apart.
‘Elinor,’ he said softly, and I looked up in surprise.
I recoiled in shock to find him squatting down in front of me, and once again, I hadn’t even heard him move. How did he do that? I swallowed the hard lump of fear in my throat, nearly choking with the effort.
I brushed the tears away with the backs of my hands and his eyes softened. I hugged my arms around my cold body, as I rocked back and forth again on the floor. He put his hands on my shoulders to stop me, and the strength of his touch made me shiver.
His face was very close to mine now and against my better judgement I found I was looking straight into those vivid eyes.
‘Elinor,’ he said my name again, so softly, yet it sounded loud at the same time. I wanted to cover my ears. ‘You have to help yourself a little here, you know.’
I shook my head slightly, still mesmerised by his eyes.
‘I’m cold.’ Even to my own ears, I sounded pathetic.
He stood then and lifted me to my feet at the same time. ‘That feeling will soon pass once you have fed,’ he assured me. ‘But I will get you something else to wear for now.’
Then he was gone again, and I was left alone in the middle of the dank, dark room.
He seemed to be gone only for a heartbeat, and then he was back with a dark-blue sweatshirt, which he handed to me. ‘Put this on.’
‘How can I be cold if I’m dead? Am I really dead?’
He sighed. ‘Just humour me and put the sweater on.’
I obeyed almost without thinking, and he looked pleased.
‘This is your last night off. Tomorrow night you will have to feed in order to survive.’
I wasn’t sure whether that was a threat or another statement of fact. ‘I don’t understand,’ I said bleakly.
‘As I have already told you, the Thirst will become more ferocious with each night you refuse to feed.’
I shuddered at the thought of the pain becoming any worse. ‘Why can’t you make the pain stop?’
‘I have told you before that I can remove your pain.’
‘I don’t believe you. It’s probably just a pathetic excuse to touch me.’
‘If you truly believe that, then you could not be more wrong. I am not suggesting anything untoward. I have no need to make excuses for anything, pathetic or otherwise. There are plenty of women who would be more than happy for me to touch them, if I so desired.’
Arrogant, sexist and a bully.
‘So go get one of them and leave me the hell alone.’ My petulant remark caused him to laugh aloud.
‘It is not that simple, child.’
He eyed me sardonically, almost as though he could read my thoughts. Didn’t he say he could? I pulled the sleeves of the sweatshirt down over my hands and revelled in the warmth of it. He watched my every move with those expressive eyes, causing me to send him a reproachful glare.
‘Why?’
‘Why, what?’
‘Why isn’t it more
simple for you to just go and find some woman who actually wants to be with you?’
He sat back down on the bed. ‘My duty, first and foremost, is to you, my little fledgling. I made you. You are mine. Deny it all you wish, but you cannot alter the fact.’ One of his hands was already up to stop my protest. ‘It is imperative that I get you feeding,’ he continued, ‘although, I have to confess, I have never come across a more difficult fledgling.’
I felt a small flare of satisfaction at that. ‘So I’m unusual?’
‘Difficult,’ he corrected.
‘Please let me go home.’
‘I am afraid that is not an option.’ His voice was firm, and with that parting shot, he stood and left the room, taking the only source of light with him.
And just like that I was alone again, alone with the terrifying darkness and the intolerable pain of the Thirst.
13 February
At least the fledgling and I are now conversing, albeit not exactly in a friendly manner. I am certain our rapport will improve eventually, but it is going to be a slow process. I admire her spirit, and I hope that once she accepts the inevitable, she will accept me too. I suppose I could have saved myself much angst by explaining how I came to bring her over to vampirism, but something has prevented me. Pride? Fool-hardy arrogance perhaps? I know I do not want merely her gratitude for preserving her existence. Ultimately, I want her to love me for myself.
I cast my thoughts back to an evening last summer when I had gone to watch her dance in Chicago, a fairly modern musical by my standards. Her vivacity had shone then, too. I had been amazed that the producer had cast her in the chorus rather than in the role of Roxie Hart, although I suppose she was not well known enough to take a main role.
I still love the theatre, I always have. I love the atmosphere, the tangible air of expectation just before the curtain rises, and, of course, the performance itself. I am rarely disappointed. Elinor danced beautifully that night, and I was entranced. So much vivacity emanating from one so fragile.
I went back night after night to see her perform. She always gave everything to her performance, and I suspected she would give her all to anything she was passionate about.
Someday, I hope she will be passionate about me.
Chapter Four
The Thirst
When I found myself still in Will’s cellar the following night, I had to finally admit that this was no nightmare. At least not one I could wake from. I still couldn’t remember how I came to be here, and for the life of me couldn’t begin to understand what Will was hoping to achieve. With his looks, I didn’t think he’d ever have a problem getting any woman he wanted, so what was the big deal with me? I had no illusions about myself, being in any kind of show business will do that for you. Constantly surrounded by taller, slimmer and more beautiful people doesn’t do a whole lot for one’s self-esteem, believe me. I’d failed many an audition because of my height – or lack of it, and sometimes because of my red hair too.
My stomach felt as though something was stabbing me from the inside, and the searing intensity of the pain made me gasp and double over each time it flared. But I refused to sit and feel sorry for myself.
Forcing myself to stand, I went towards the door, or where I imagined the door should be.
I hated the dark. I’d told him that, the bastard. Did he get some kind of kick out of keeping me locked up here in the dark? Despite his protests to the contrary, he had to be some kind of pervert.
I felt my way along the damp, slimy wall until I found the door. Metal. Perfect for a prison, I thought bitterly. I kicked it in frustration and was gratified when it made a loud noise that reverberated around the walls.
I pictured Will upstairs somewhere entertaining and having to explain the noises coming from his cellar. I kicked the door again and again, amazed at my own strength. At this rate I’d be able to break the door down and get out of this damn place.
The room was suddenly flooded with harsh electric light, and I closed my over-sensitive eyes against its intrusive glare. The door opened outwards, and because I was leaning against it, I cannoned into a large immovable object, which turned out to be the man himself. His eyebrows rose in surprise, and he put his hands on my shoulders to steady me.
‘Are you having fun?’
‘You left me alone in the dark again.’
He continued to keep me at arm’s length, and his strong hands curled like steel bands around my arms. He walked us both back into the room and kicked the door shut, as he regarded me with interest.
‘As you can see, I have now arranged electricity in this part of the house for you,’ he said as if he’d just paid for dinner at the Ivy. ‘That should alleviate some of your discomfort.’
‘Shutting me in this … cell is what’s causing my discomfort.’
‘It is a necessary precaution for the moment, I am afraid,’ he replied. ‘I apologise. Again.’
He dropped his hands from my arms and I turned away from him, walking further into the room.
‘I am afraid we need to address the problem of your feeding tonight.’ His voice was quiet.
‘I can hardly wait to see what you come up with this time.’
To my surprise, he turned back to the door and opened it again. Glancing back over his shoulder he inclined his head at me. ‘Would you accompany me?’
‘Is there a choice?’ I countered.
‘Not really.’
‘Great,’ I muttered. ‘OK, lead the way to another dark and miserable place, I’m all yours.’
‘Would that, that were true.’ An amused tone had crept into his voice again.
Against my better judgement, I followed him. It got me out of this cellar after all, even if it did only lead to another. My ‘dungeon’ turned out to be connected by a small passageway to another door, which, in turn, opened onto what appeared to be an old wine cellar. I had no idea where this place was, but any house that had cellars, plural, had to be pretty old, very big, and worth a considerable amount of money. Hadn’t he said the house was Georgian? If we were still in London, we were talking millions.
I clutched my stomach as the Thirst made its presence known again. I stumbled and missed a step. Will’s arm immediately encircled my waist to prevent me from falling, and I flinched at his touch. He let me go at once. Perhaps he wasn’t a pervert then, just a sadist.
As we walked further into the wine cellar, I became aware that I could actually hear a heartbeat. A strong smell of unwashed flesh pervaded my nostrils at that point, and I gagged. Someone else was in this cellar and they were definitely alive.
Looking around, I noticed the crumpled form of a skinny young man as he lay comatose on the floor.
‘What the hell have you done?’ I whispered in horror.
‘Sent out for a take-away,’ came the flippant answer.
‘Most take-aways are pizza or Chinese.’
‘I discovered this one attempting to break into my house,’ came the cold reply.
‘So … what? You thought you’d smash his brains in and then drink him dry?’ My voice trembled.
Will gave a harsh laugh. ‘I will neither drain him nor kill him. Although I admit to being sorely tempted to do both.’ He pushed the man’s body over with a contemptuous flick of his boot. ‘You will snack on him, and then I shall call our worthy police to have him arrested.’
‘Well I don’t know much about vampires,’ I said. ‘But even I know that there will be visible puncture wounds, and I am not biting into him or any other human. That’s the grossest thing you’ve come up with yet.’
Will turned to face me. ‘There really is no choice child,’ he said quietly. ‘It is the survival of the fittest, which, I can assure you, will be you, rather than this piece of pond life.’
I pushed my tangled hair out of my eyes as I
looked down at the man again. I became aware of the smell of warm blood and my body suddenly craved the taste.
I knew then that Will had told the truth all along and my body wanted blood. Wanted it badly.
God help me, I wanted to taste him. I could feel the surge of the Thirst and my whole body trembled with the ferocity of it. I turned wild, frightened eyes to Will who merely began to lead me towards the man.
My body shuddered at the conflict and I struggled involuntarily against Will’s iron grip. He held me fast, apparently without any effort at all on his part, talking softly to me all the time even though I paid no attention to the words.
My body wanted blood, but my brain didn’t agree.
‘I can’t.’ I was frantically struggling to free myself from his grasp. ‘Not from a person.’
‘Yes. You can,’ reassured Will. ‘It is your nature. I would have allowed you to feed from a bottle, but you refused that. This is now the only way forward for you. Your instincts will take over and help you to feed.’
‘Blood made me sick,’ hysteria made my voice rise. ‘Sucking blood from a person is revolting—I can’t—I won’t—’
‘Yes, you will,’ he corrected. ‘You cannot go another night without sustenance, you have to believe me.’
I shook my head, trying to clear my jumbled thoughts.
I can’t drink blood. Why is he making me do this? What kind of monster is he?
I was vaguely aware that Will was speaking again, but I didn’t want to listen to him. A sob caught in my throat, and my body shuddered.
The ravening Thirst now consumed me, any rational thoughts I had became clouded, and I trembled from head to foot. I could feel the insistence of the Thirst, which seemed to dictate I should drink blood from the unconscious man on the floor. I looked up at Will, and fancied that the cold look in his eyes softened for just a moment.
‘I will help you. Trust me.’
‘I must have trusted you once, and all that got me is dead.’
He rolled his eyes in exasperation. ‘I will help you.’
I looked down at the unfortunate man, who sported a large bruise on his cheek. I had no doubt that bruise had been courtesy of my green-eyed jailer. Will hauled him up with one hand, keeping a firm grip on my arm with the other. He held the man upright, as though he weighed nothing at all, and turned back to me. ‘Feed little one.’ He released my arm.
Dance Until Dawn Page 4