I dressed quickly and picked up the hairbrush Will had used on my hair before. I found myself wishing I had something to tie it up with just to be annoying. Childish? Maybe. But as he seemed fond of calling me ‘child’, it seemed fitting.
A soft knock on the far door startled me.
‘What?’ I said somewhat ungraciously.
‘May I come in?’ Will’s voice still sounded tinged with amusement.
‘It’s your house, apparently. Plus you have the key.’
Said key turned in the lock, and Will entered the bathroom.
‘I was merely being polite.’
He picked up my coat and held it up for me to put on. I eyed him warily, but his look was innocent enough. I turned my back to him and slipped my arms into the sleeves of my beloved coat. To my surprise, he let go of the coat – and me – immediately, without any lingering touch whatsoever. I wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or insulted, and that worried me.
Will went and opened the far door, then gestured me through. ‘Let us go and see this moon of yours.’
15 February
Elinor requested to sit in the garden. I was surprised at first, because I thought she would prefer to be anywhere rather than my house. Then I realised her confidence would undoubtedly be somewhat dented after her collapse last night. Remiss of me not to think of it.
There is so much to be done to ensure her happiness and well-being. I truly never thought it would be such a task. However, I am confident it will be very worthwhile.
Chapter Seven
Moonlight
Will led the way through the other cellar, to the door that I knew opened onto the walled garden at the back of the house. We went out into the cold night. The dark sky was clear, with just a sliver of winter moon, shining bright and alluring. I stared up at it, feeling an affinity with her cold beauty. ‘It’s so beautiful.’
‘As are you,’ said Will.
‘Okay, who are you, and what have you done with Mr Spooky?’ I responded to a compliment in my normal flippant manner, much to my own surprise.
‘Is that who I am?’ he murmured, and I twisted around to look at him.
The moonlight shone on his dark hair, and illuminated his pale chiselled features, accentuating the cheekbones. His eyes glowed with an ethereal light. I looked at him as he gazed down at me with those incredible eyes. Oh yeah, there was definitely something really spooky about him. His expression appeared softer than usual, which I found confusing, and I stepped away from him in sudden panic. His expression instantly became amused again.
Suddenly I wondered what it would it be like to be held throughout the night in those strong arms. The thought leapt unbidden into my head, followed by even more treacherous thoughts … Like how it might feel to be held close, really close, to his naked, muscular body as his strong, elegant hands caressed me, and to actually kiss those incredibly tempting lips.
I swiftly dispelled the all too vivid images from my mind, just in case he picked up on my thoughts. I glanced at him, flustered, and he raised an eyebrow as though he had actually read my mind.
‘I’m not used to compliments,’ I said.
‘Then you must truly have known only blind idiots,’ he commented, walking towards the stone bench near the urn. He sat down, and I followed, but remained standing. In a paranoid fashion, I took great care not to stand within grabbing distance. I wondered whether it had been a good idea to come out here, if potentially it would give him the wrong idea, or, actually, any ideas. I felt uneasy being so close to him in the romantic moonlight, yet his amusement felt almost tangible when he angled his head to look up at me.
‘Are you so afraid of me that you will not sit down?’
‘I was afraid the first time I met you. I should have run away while I still had the chance.’
I had a sudden flashback to Caroline’s party. Joe had been there with his latest squeeze and I had gone alone, at least I think I had. But I could now recall leaving the party with a tall, handsome stranger. Guess who? I stared out into the night as I remembered making coffee in my flat for Will, chatting as though I had known him for years. Not one of my more sensible decisions clearly.
‘It was you at Caroline’s party, wasn’t it?’ I asked, still not looking at him.
‘I thought you were always aware of that.’ His answer was soft.
‘Maybe I was.’
‘Please sit down,’ he invited. ‘I will not harm you.’
‘No, you already did that.’
He shook his head slightly. ‘Sit down,’ he said again. ‘I promise to be a perfect gentleman.’
A sudden laugh escaped before I could stop it. I did actually feel a little ridiculous standing up. He hadn’t made any advances after all. I felt as though the ‘lady doth protest too much’.
So I sat down, but not too close, there was no point in tempting fate, and certainly no point in tempting Will. He continued, however, to look completely at ease.
The night wrapped itself around us like a living, breathing thing. I could hear the faint noise of traffic from the main road, but otherwise we could have been anywhere at all, or even in the middle of nowhere. It didn’t feel as though we were in a city. The occasional high-pitched squeak of a bat punctuated the distant traffic sounds, adding to the feel of being in the middle of the countryside.
Will slid a pack of cigarettes from his jacket pocket, pulled one out, and put it between his lips. He took a box of matches from the same pocket and struck one. As the flame illuminated his face, he looked at me above its brightness as he lit the cigarette.
‘How long did you say you have been in this house?’ I asked, breaking the silence.
‘I did not say,’ he replied. ‘So what shall we play now?’ He raised his eyebrows, his expression mischievous.
‘How about we play “give Ellie a break?”’
Will’s laugh was soft and sexy, and the sound curled around like gentle fingers of velvet inside my stomach, making me very aware of his close proximity. ‘As you wish. I shall endeavour to curb my clumsy, amorous overtures.’
‘Not good enough, you need to promise to behave.’
‘Are you always going to be so unadventurous?’ He sighed.
‘Absolutely. It’s time you realised that not all women are yours for the taking.’
‘That is rather harsh,’ he said. ‘I do not remember ever stating I wanted all women.’
I didn’t respond to that. He somehow managed to make me feel ill at ease whenever the conversation got personal. I was sure the more I rejected him, the more he would come on to me. Just like human guys – perhaps death didn’t change people much after all.
‘How did you become a vampire?’ I asked, keen to change the subject again.
‘I was bitten,’ came the dry response.
‘You know what I meant,’ I said, and he nodded.
‘Yes, of course I do,’ he said. ‘One day I will tell you the whole terrible story, but I do not think you are ready to hear it yet.’
‘What does that mean?’
He sighed again. ‘It is something that is very personal to me, and is simply not relevant at the moment.’
Well, that certainly told me. I felt convinced he would have been made by a woman anyway. Probably some incredibly sexy female vamp he hadn’t been able to resist. I wondered where she was now. I wondered what she looked like and whether she was likely to come back and claim him, and then I pushed those thoughts out of my head. Like I cared anything about his initiation anyway. Stupid Ellie.
‘Elinor,’ he said quietly, and I looked at him in surprise.
‘Most people call me Ellie.’
‘I am not most people,’ he said. ‘I want you to know that I will endeavour to keep my distance romantically, unless, or until, you choose otherwise.
I want you to feel safe with me, and I want you to trust me.’
Well that was a surprise, and a pleasant one too. Things would be a lot easier if I only had to concentrate on the problem of feeding, and not worry that he might pounce on me at any time.
‘I rarely pounce,’ he reassured me.
‘You’re in my head again,’ I said.
‘The first move must be yours,’ he said, and ground out his cigarette on the ground, before he leaned back and crossed one long leg over the other.
‘Well, don’t hold your breath.’ I looked back up at the sky.
We sat in silence for a while, looking at the moon and the dusting of stars that had become visible. He began to talk about Italy, and other places he’d lived, and then went on to talk about North America, surprising me with his knowledge of the desert. He described the many stars that could be seen in the clear night skies, and as he described the velvety heat of the night there, I felt as though I could actually feel it around me, like a blanket. I’d never been to America, but he made it sound wonderful. I wondered when he had lived there and why.
I found myself wondering why he’d come back to England, but didn’t feel inclined to ask. I just listened to him talk. His voice sounded beautiful, so soothing and hypnotic, and I became captivated.
Strangely, he told me nothing of a personal nature, no information about any relationships, past or present, and I was still too intimidated by his powerful presence to ask. I listened as he described life in Victorian London, and wondered whether he’d been in London all the time since then, or whether he had still travelled. How did vampires travel? Surely time zones could be dangerous … flying would be paramount to suicide, wouldn’t it?
‘In the early days I travelled by ship,’ he answered my unspoken question. ‘But in latter years I purchased my own aeroplane.’
‘You own a plane?’ I asked incredulously. ‘Just how rich are you? Who flies it?’
He gave a slight smile. ‘I can fly it myself, but I usually hire a pilot,’ he said. ‘It is not difficult.’
I tried to imagine ‘parking’ a plane in Highgate and failed.
‘It is kept at Elstree Aerodrome,’ he said. ‘Many people keep their private aircraft there.’
This man was a constant surprise. But I supposed there were many things that could be done if the whole of eternity stretched out in front of you. He probably needed something to alleviate the boredom.
‘You’re a revelation,’ I said.
‘You are mocking me.’
I began to feel a heaviness invading my body again, and looked upward.
The night sky was beginning to lighten ever so gradually in the east, and I could feel the dawn’s approach as it began to affect my body.
Will stopped talking, and glanced up at the sky.
‘Time for little fledglings to be asleep,’ he said. He held my arm as we both stood up.
We started back towards the house.
‘How are you doing?’ he asked.
‘I—I’m having trouble with my legs again,’ I said as cold fear shivered through me.
He swung me up into his arms immediately, and carried me easily towards the cellar. As he set me down on the bed the approach of dawn had already begun to infiltrate my body, rendering my limbs almost useless. The lack of coherent thoughts made further conversation impossible. My eyelids felt heavy, and I looked at Will through narrowed eyes. He seemed a long way away.
He stroked my hair away from my forehead gently. ‘Do not try to fight it, little one. Relax and it will not be so painful. Close your eyes.’
I closed my eyes obediently and allowed the dawn to take me until the next sunset.
15 February
I am filled with uncustomary happiness. I have spent a whole night with Elinor, almost without any arguments or recriminations. I think she is beginning to trust me a little at last. I so want to see her laugh as often as she did whilst alive, and I feel that time is coming ever closer. I wonder whether perhaps I talked too much, but I wanted to ease the tension that seems to be ever present between us. I know it was the right thing to do, in stating that I would keep my distance. I saw the relief in her eyes and I felt some of the tension leave her body. Not flattering I admit, but I want her to feel safe with me, not to fear my every move. At least she doesn’t flee every time I stand up now, for which I am grateful.
I vow to be waiting for her when she awakes at the next sunset. My timekeeping tends to be a little tardy at times, especially when I have to hunt for both of us.
I watched her for a while … my beautiful fledgling … with her lustrous hair, so like Emily’s in length and colour, yet her looks and personality are so very different to Emily’s. This tiny vampire child will be a force to be reckoned with someday, I am already sure of that. I need to tread softly and carefully, but I am an expert at treading softly.
I shall always remember the dismal winter day we buried Emily. It was 1705. Rain poured down incessantly from heavy brooding skies over Highgate Village, and the darkness mirrored my emotions as I stood numbly by the open mausoleum. The biting wind cut through my clothes, like a malevolent sword, but it did not matter. Nothing mattered anymore. Emily, my beautiful young wife, had been taken from me, together with our stillborn son. My whole family had been wrenched from me in one single night of pain and agony. How I wished I could have died alongside them. Without Emily and my son, my life had no meaning, no future. My guilt knew no bounds. She had loved me unconditionally, and I had strived to care for her in return. That I cherished her was without question. But love . . .? What is love? Nevertheless, I missed her.
Long, lonely weeks passed interminably, as night after night I returned to the mausoleum, still numb with grief. I always sat inside the mausoleum next to Emily’s tomb, and I spoke to her often as though she could hear me. I liked to think she could. On one such night, my solace was interrupted by a female voice with a slight foreign inflection. I felt anger beyond belief at the intrusion and told the woman in no uncertain terms to leave. When I looked up, she still stood nearby, her eyes glinting almost silver in the light of the moon.
‘Why are you still here?’ I demanded.
‘Because I can help. One so handsome should not be grieving.’
‘My wife and son are barely cold in their tomb. Have you no pity?’ I grated the words out.
‘I want only to help you, cara,’ she said again.
‘Unless you can raise the dead, there is no help you can give me.’
‘I am the dead,’ she said.
When I looked up again, she had gone.
A few minutes later, I too, left the tomb, and locked its heavy doors behind me. My tranquil time with Emily had been ruined by the strange woman’s intrusion. I turned to walk toward the cemetery gates, only to be confronted again by the woman who suddenly appeared in front of me. I stopped, frustrated, and looked down at her. Her deep-blue eyes mesmerised me, as their different hues sparkled and glinted.
‘What are you?’ I whispered.
‘Your salvation, William,’ she replied, as she closed the distance that remained between us.
Her eyes suddenly blazed with an intense blue fire that removed my free will and sucked my very soul into their depths. I felt as if I had tumbled headlong into a bottomless black hole that nothing on God’s earth could ever stop. I became dizzy and nauseous, until an intense, sharp pain made me cry out. I heard her voice as it spoke softly to me in a foreign tongue. I even heard her laugh once, a cold, mirthless sound that chilled me to the very bone.
‘Now you are mine,’ she said as darkness overwhelmed me.
They found my body the next day, and buried me in the family mausoleum next to Emily, never knowing that earthly confines would never hold me. Three nights later, I rose and she was waiting for me.
‘What have you done?’ I asked, my voice hoarse, and my brain not altogether functioning in a normal way.
‘I have removed all of your earthly pain,’ she replied.
She turned and walked away, and I found myself following her. It was almost as though she knew without question I would follow, for she never once turned back to look at me. A carriage waited at the cemetery gate, with two gleaming black horses harnessed between the shafts. The driver sprang from his seat the moment he saw her approaching and opened the carriage door. She got in without a backward glance and I followed. The driver closed the door behind us, and a few moments later, we drove away from everything I had ever known, and everyone I had held dear.
After about twenty minutes, the woman rapped on the ceiling of the coach and it slid smoothly to a halt. I glanced out of the window and noticed we had stopped somewhere in a poorer part of the city. Rotting rubbish festered in the rain-sodden gutter, and its stench hung on the damp night air. The street was deserted except for a lone lady of the night, who perked up considerably at the sight of the coach. She began to walk towards us, obviously hoping for some lucrative work.
My companion turned to me with a cold, tight-lipped smile. ‘Time for your first feed, William,’ she said softly.
She opened the carriage door and sprang lightly down to the street. ‘Come.’
Obediently, I joined her on the pavement, and watched as she went to meet the other woman. I followed her slowly, at a loss to guess what her intention could be. The horses snorted as I passed them, their harnesses jingling as they tossed their heads. Steam rose from their sweat-covered flanks, and one horse stamped a hoof impatiently, making a hollow clang on the cobbles with its iron shoe.
The prostitute walked toward us, hands on plump swaying hips. She smiled with uneven, tobacco-stained teeth. ‘Well looky ’ere,’ she said. ‘Wot a pretty pair. I’ll do the pair of yer fer a guinea. Nah – I’ll do ’im for free.’ She cackled as she wiggled her hips and walked an uneven circle around me.
Dance Until Dawn Page 9