Song of the Vampire (Vanderlind Realm Book 3)

by Gayla Twist

  “You see, that’s the thing,” he said, sweeping me into a waltz embrace. “Hold on a minute.” Calling over his shoulder to the musicians, he said, “Play the Waltz of the Flowers, please.”

  The music began almost immediately and Dorian started sweeping me around the floor. “What’s the thing?” I asked after taking a few moments to enjoy the bobbing and swirling of the dance. The waltz had gone out of style even before Dorian’s time, but it remained a favorite among vampires and I’d already learned to dance it fairly fluidly.

  Dorian gave me a confused look for a moment, but then said, “The thing is that lately I’ve felt so inspired. Being with you, it just…” He sought the right words. “Being with you makes me want to go out and take on the world.” He swung me around, exuberantly. “I know my style and lyrics aren’t very modern, but I just wanted to share them with you, and… I don’t know. Maybe record them or something, just for the love of it.”

  “Oh, Dorian, I think that’s a great idea.” And it really was. Why should his dreams have to die just because he did? I knew keeping the existence of vampires secret from the world at large was crucial to our survival, but he just looked so happy and excited. Plus, he really was talented. The fact that he was inspired to try singing again because of his relationship with me made my heart swell in my chest. “Would you finish the song for me?” I asked, smiling up at him. “I really would like to hear the rest of it.”

  “I’d love to,” he said, bestowing me with a very promising kiss. But then a small noise from the steps that led down to the dancefloor caught his attention and he looked up.

  “I didn’t know there was dancing,” said a male vampire as he led his date down to the floor. “They really need to get better about announcing these things,” he said, flashing us both a friendly smile.

  “Indeed,” Dorian replied, forcing his mouth not to pull into a frown. Returning his gaze to me, he said quietly, “Some other time.”

  “I understand,” I whispered back, my lips against his neck.

  “Do you want to stay?”

  I shook my head. “Why don’t we go back to my rooms? You can sing the entire song to me there.”

  “It won’t sound as good without the orchestra,” he insisted. I knew he was disappointed.

  “It will to me,” I assured him. And if I had my way, seeing that I was the inspiration for his re-found love of singing and all, then he wouldn’t feel the need to head back to his own rooms before dawn and I would have him there for the entire day.

  “Okay,” he agreed as a few more couples drifted onto the dancefloor. “Let me just speak with the orchestra, first. Their under my influence, and I’m the one who is paying them, after all. I wouldn’t want them out here all night, freezing to death.”

  “Okay, I’ll meet you at my rooms,” I said, giving him a quick kiss. The smell of the mortals was starting to make me pretty hungry and I didn’t want to stand in their vicinity for any longer than was necessary.

  “I’ll just be a few minutes,” he said. “I don’t want to interrupt this song.” The orchestra had glided seamlessly from The Waltz of the Flowers into something that wasn’t as familiar.

  I hurried away, hoping I wouldn’t run into any of the resort’s mortal staff as I searched for my room. I was getting better at controlling my undead urges, but it still wasn’t easy. I wanted to get to my suite, snack and then freshen up before Dorian’s arrival. Yes, I was excited to hear Dorian’s song. But I also wanted to try to look as sexy as possible, in case my inspiring him to sing again led to me inspiring him to pursue other activities.

  Chapter 5

  Haley

  Back in my suite, I drank my fill and then I sat down at the vanity, prepared to freshen whatever on my face needed to be freshened. But there wasn’t much that I could figure out to fix. There were definitely some perks to being a member of the undead; always looking pretty damn good being one of my favorites.

  I stepped out of my gown and carefully hung it up in the closet. I’d seen many vampiresses just drop their fine clothing on the floor like soiled tissues when you’re lying in bed with a bad cold, but I didn’t think I’d ever live long enough, or be wealthy enough, to be that spoiled. There were plenty of mortal females out there who would have adored just one pretty gown, let alone dozens.

  Pulling open the top drawer in the bureau, I looked through my panties and bras. I’d been wearing a creamy beige matching set so that nothing would show under my gown, but I didn’t think that would be tantalizing enough to break Dorian’s ridiculously strong resolve to be a gentleman.

  I needed something sexier without coming off as slutty. If I opened the door dressed in a French maid’s outfit, Dorian would know something was up. He would probably beat it for the hills to hide until I covered myself in something more sensible.

  It didn’t matter because I didn’t have a French maid’s outfit, or any that was too over-the-top, as far as lingerie. And I couldn’t exactly ask Dorian what he liked in female intimate apparel. But as far as I could tell, he probably preferred something classic, as opposed to Dear Penthouse Forum. He did, after all, hit puberty back when there were still corsets. At least I thought there were. I wasn’t exactly an expert, as far as the history of women’s underwear.

  I selected an ivory colored silk nightgown. The fabric was sheer and it had a plunging neckline, but it also came with a silk robe that was reasonably modest. I could always answer my maker’s knock in my robe, claiming that I was preparing for the dawn, and then let it slide open at an opportune moment. That seemed like the best plan.

  Once I had changed and I was satisfied that I’d laid a proper trap, I fished out my phone from my bag and quickly typed in a search for Lord Byron. The cell reception in Antarctica was surprisingly good, but I was sure that had something to do with whoever owned the billion dollar resort. Most of the older vampires didn’t feel the need to use cell phones. It was only us fledglings who weren’t able to give up the habit.

  It only took me a moment to tap on the correct link to have Lord Byron’s poem in front of my eyes. Or, at least the poem credited to Byron. It read:

  She Walks in Beauty

  She walks in beauty, like the night

  Of cloudless climes and starry skies;

  And all that's best of dark and bright

  Meet in her aspect and her eyes:

  Thus mellow'd to that tender light

  Which heaven to gaudy day denies.

  One shade the more, one ray the less,

  Had half impaired the nameless grace

  Which waves in every raven tress,

  Or softly lightens o'er her face;

  Where thoughts serenely sweet express

  How pure, how dear their dwelling-place.

  And on that cheek, and o'er that brow,

  So soft, so calm, yet eloquent,

  The smiles that win, the tints that glow,

  But tell of days in goodness spent,

  A mind at peace with all below,

  A heart whose love is innocent!

  It was beautiful, but I’d never read much poetry beyond what we were required to do for high school English. Wikipedia’s analysis of the poem said that Byron admired the beauty of the woman, but also her purity. And he was a man known for being a bit of a player. There didn’t seem to be much longing in it.

  But knowing the true poet had been a vampiress changed everything. To me, it infused each line with a lot more yearning. I had to wonder what happened to the woman who inspired the poem. Did she live her life blissfully unaware of the vampire world? Or did her mortal beauty leave her vulnerable to the desires of the undead? I found myself feeling anxious for a woman who had lived over two-hundred years ago, and resolved to ask Dorian about it.

  And speaking of Dorian, where was he? I had been lounging on a couch, thinking about the poem for at least twenty minutes, and I had to have dithered about lingerie for at least ten before that.

  I went to my door and peeked ou
t. The wind was picking up, but Dorian was nowhere to be seen. “Damn it,” I grumbled to myself.

  After pacing around the room for another ten minutes, I decided to get dressed and go look for him. But then I thought, no. I would definitely go look for him, but I wasn’t getting dressed. Or at least not completely. I threw a long, black velvet coat over my shoulders, slipped on a pair of heels that cost more than what I’d earned in a month working at my old job at Darlene’s Diner, and hurried out into the cold.

  The wind was biting and it had to have been at least a few degrees below zero. I shivered, but it was only a memory reflex; vampires didn’t feel the cold. I knew there was probably a way to reach the gazebo and dancefloor by underground tunnels but I had no idea how to figure out the intricate maze under the ice and snow. Plus, I didn’t want to accidentally miss Dorian, if he was above ground and I was below. In the mortal world, we could have just texted each other, but my maker was firmly stuck in last century when it came to most technology. He just didn’t see the need for a cell phone.

  Through a series of lucky guesses, I made my way back to the gazebo where Dorian had so brilliantly serenaded me. I really wanted to strangle that Elaina chick for ruining such a perfect moment, but there was nothing I could do about it. The fact that she was incredibly beautiful, even by vampire standards, probably should have left me feeling ridiculously insecure, but it didn’t. I was growing confident in Dorian’s love. It had taken awhile, but I was getting there. Plus, I wasn’t going to allow some vampiress throwing a snit to ruin what had started out as a beautiful evening.

  By the time I got there, the dance floor was clearing and the musicians were hastily packing up their instruments. I scanned the departing undead, but didn’t see the familiar blond head of Dorian Vanderlind. It was so strange. Where had he gone?

  “Did you lose someone?” I heard a voice ask.

  Glancing over, I saw a handsome vampire who must have been somewhere in his thirties when he was turned. He was tall with thick brown hair that was being ruffled by the wind.

  “My maker,” I admitted. “He was supposed to meet me after influencing the orchestra, but he never showed.”

  “Dorian Vanderlind?” the man asked.

  I nodded, not sure how this man knew my business, but Dorian did know an awful lot of people in the undead community.

  “He left a little while ago,” he said. “Headed that way, if memory serves,” he said, gesturing in the opposite direction from my suite of rooms, but in the general direction of his. Whenever we went someplace new, I always wanted Dorian and my rooms to be close together, but we frequently found ourselves on opposite sides of a resort. Dorian always blamed it on a mix-up with the reservations, but I was starting to suspect that he wanted as much sunlight between us as possible, in case his resolve to be a gentleman started to erode in the middle of the day.

  “Thanks,” I said before hurrying off. Maybe Dorian had wanted to change his clothes, or needed a snack, or something before coming to see me.

  The snow was really starting to pick up. The wind tore at my coat, whipping it around my thighs and revealing the thin lingerie underneath. I half considered trying to find one of the access tunnels so I would be sheltered from the storm, but I really didn’t know where the closest one was. I figured I would spend as much time looking for a tunnel entrance as I would searching for Dorian’s room.

  I found that I was shaking, trembling with cold. But that didn’t make sense. I was a vampire; cold didn’t faze me. But still in the back of my mind I had a fear of getting lost in the storm and freezing to death in some snowdrift. Balancing on my stiletto heels was nearly impossible, and I couldn’t fly or I would have been literally blown away. I had to hang onto the various chain railings that had been strung around the resort to keep from skittering across the frozen ground.

  The storm was getting worse, and quickly. I had a good two minutes of panic after becoming disoriented and not being sure where anything was. I wasn’t sure of the official definition of snow blindness, but I did have the fleeting feeling of literally being blinded by the snow.

  It felt like an eternity, but eventually I was able to orient myself by the dim lights of one of the resort’s restaurants. And then I felt silly for my mild panic. How long would I have to be a member of the undead before I remembered that I couldn’t die? At least not very easily.

  My coat and lingerie were becoming caked with ice and I felt like someone was trying to beat me to death with my own hair. In all likelihood, I wasn’t looking my best, but I desperately wanted to find Dorian so he could cuddle me, and pet me, and say soothing things.

  After another minute, I spotted the door to Dorian’s suite of rooms. I slipped as I was hurrying over to knock and ended up crashing against the door. I smashed my wrist and elbow pretty hard. If I had still been mortal, then I probably would have been on my way to the emergency room. But as a vampire, it was just another thing adding to my frustration.

  “Dorian?” I called, hammering on the door, just in case he mistook me falling against it for some chairs or something being whipped up by the storm.

  A moment later and the door was yanked open. “D…” My maker’s name froze on my lips. It wasn’t Dorian standing before me, but Elaina. Her hair was tousled and her lips were pouting. She was wrapped in a fur, but it was obvious that she had nothing on underneath. “I’m sorry…” I stammered, taking a step backward and looking around. I must have had the wrong room.

  “Don’t be,” she said. “This storm is something fierce. I’m sure if you hadn’t been hammering on the door and crying like a frightened child, I would have never heard you.”

  “Oh…” I wasn’t sure what to do. Did I have the wrong suite? I attempted to scan the room behind Elaina, trying to spot something I could positively identify as my maker’s.

  “Dorian’s in the shower,” Elaina told me, opening the door fully so that I could enter. “But he should be out in a moment. Do you want me to tell him that you’re here?”

  Chapter 6

  Haley

  I ran blindly through the resort complex, snow pelting me in the face and freezing my tears. How could he do this to me? Why would he do it? Was a quickie with some random vampiress he used to know preferable to being intimate with me?

  And how did they even have time? It was probably only forty-five minutes since I’d left him at the bandstand. How quickly could he put the moves on some babe?

  That thought pulled me up short. I hadn’t actually seen Dorian; all I’d seen was Elaina wrapped in a fur and presumably naked underneath. Was he even there? I tried to remember if I’d heard the shower running.

  But that didn’t prove anything, I decided as I started moving forward again, only not so quickly. Dorian could have been toweling off, or just getting started. I took a few more steps, playing the whole scene over again in my mind. Dorian had been a giant slut for most of his time on the planet, even when he was a mortal. But over the past few weeks he’d been lavishing me with so much attention and affection that it was difficult to imagine that he would run off and cheat on me in the span of forty-five minutes. After all, he’d just been serenading me with a blindfolded orchestra backing him. Plus, that Elaina chick obviously had it in for me. The more I thought about it, the more likely it seemed that she’d set me up.

  I stopped walking completely and just stood there with the snow battering against me. I loved my maker with all my heart. And I really thought that he felt the same way about me. But the fact that we’d never been together intimately made me insecure. Maybe he’d been filled with so much suppressed lust that he couldn’t stand it any longer and that’s how Elaina ended up in his bed. My insecurities told me it was a possibility, but my reason told me it was unlikely. Slowly turning around, I decided I would go back to Dorian’s rooms and find out the truth before I did anything else dramatic.

  And that’s when I realized that I was lost in a world of white. The blizzard was so strong that I could barel
y keep my balance, or see more than a foot in front of my face.

  “Crap,” I muttered, the word being immediately snatched from my mouth by the wind. This was not good. Really not good.

  I wasn’t afraid of freezing to death, — the storm would eventually calm down and I would be able to orient myself — but if that didn’t happen before sunrise, then I would be just a burnt patch on the snow by the time that Dorian found me. “Crap!” I said again, only this time much louder.

  “Do you need help?” I heard a voice shout before the words faded into the storm

  Looking up, I couldn’t make out anything in the blizzard of white. “Yes!” I shouted. “I need help. Help!”

  “Over here!” the voice called and I thought I could just make out the faint figure of a man waving his arms. It was like trying to make out a drawing based on the first tentative strokes on a blank canvas. “Over here! This way!”

  I started walking toward him, the wind helping me along by pushing steadily against my back. I knew that if I had still been a mortal, I would be crawling.

  “Here!” the man called, even though I was close enough to distinguish him. “Thought you might have gotten turned around,” he added. “The complex is this way.” He gestured behind him. “Follow me.”

  “Thanks,” I said, feeling truly grateful. “This storm came up really fast and I was…” And then a strong gust of wind slammed into me so hard that I pitched forward and ended up in his arms. “Sorry!” I said, quickly righting myself.

  “Don’t worry about it,” he told me with a laugh. “This storm is definitely out of season.” He kept a grip on my arm as he began leading me through the snow.

  We staggered for quite a distance; I couldn’t believe how far I’d run into the void of snow and ice. I really had to learn how to keep my body in check, even when my emotions were out of control. After all, it had only been a few months since I’d slammed into a tree while driving like a crazy person and texting, just because some awful boy had gone out of his way to humiliate me. What he’d done was horrible, but it wasn’t worth dying over.