by Myles, Eden
* * *
Chapter XI
“I want to show you something, Olivia,” Lord Rothschild said the following night at dinner. He smiled as he brought his chalice to his lips. “In the garden.”
I felt my heart thud harder in my chest at the prospect of being taken against my will, but I swallowed and worked at retaining my composure. I smiled pleasantly. “What is it?”
“If I told you, it wouldn’t be a surprise, now would it?”
“I suppose not.”
We dined along tonight, which had already set me on edge. Having Dr. Von Holtz in the room made me feel somewhat protected. I knew Lord Rothschild would not do anything improper or untoward in front of his friend. But tonight I’d found myself alone, navigating court etiquette without any silent prompts from him. I’d thought I’d done exceptionally well. But I wasn’t sure I was clever or learned enough to handle him now—not without resorting to some silly excuse, anyway.
He stood up and offered me his arm.
I followed suit and came around the table to lay my hand upon his chilled, undead arm.
“Are you cold?” he asked when he saw me shiver.
“Perhaps a little.”
“Wear your wrap, Olivia.”
I’d let the black crocheted wrap fall to my elbows during dinner, but now I shrugged into it, so it covered my bare shoulders and was draped over the bodice of my peacock green evening gown. Together, we walked out to the garden and down the now-familiar stone path.
I noticed that Rothschild looked slightly more desiccated than he had the last time we’d walked. His skin looked dry and flaking like old parchment, and his cheekbones were as sharp as stones. His eyes seemed a little more faded, a little less focused. His dour black clothes washed the little color from his face and hands and rendered them a shade of freezing snow.
I felt sorry for him, sorry for his plight in life…or unlife, rather. A part of me wondered how he had come to be this pitiful creature of death. I’d seen pictures of him as a young man in the many corridors of Blackstone Hall, and I knew he’d been a beautiful man once—a proud, fierce warrior. Perhaps if he hadn’t been forcing me…perhaps if he’d only show me a bit of kindness and respect….and had I not fallen in love with the Doctor…I might have had feelings for him.
We stopped at the fountain where Marie stood with her wolf lover coiled possessively about her legs. He indicated the empty flower beds surrounding the fountain. “I had my gardener fill them with tulip bulbs. All red. I thought it would be fitting for our wedding day. They aren’t up yet, but they will be. And then we will be married here. Would you like that, Olivia?”
His words lent me some small bit of comfort. I knew tulips generally took around six months to grow from bulb to blooming flower. “Yes,” I answered. “That means…” I pretended to take time with my calculations. “We shall be married in the spring.”
“Rather contrary,” Rothschild said with a sly, hungry smile, “I’ve used magic on them. They should be in full bloom in six days. Then we can be married, my darling.”
* * *
Chapter XII
I hurried up the long, spiral staircase of the wizard’s tower and threw open the door at the top. Dr. Von Holtz was standing before a chemistry set, mixing together one of his formulas, while the snowy owl that he and I had created lifted off her perch and fluttered across the room excitedly.
I threw the door closed and raced across the room. Dr. Von Holtz set the beaker down he’d been mixing with a glass stirrer and turned to me. “Livia, what is it?”
I breathed harshly, and I knew my face was ruddy with exertion. The climb up the several hundred stairs had winded me. My body was not quite as strong as I had hoped. The fear in my heart briefly stole my words.
Seeing my distress, the Doctor set his project aside and came to me, setting his hands reassuringly on my shoulders. It calmed my nerves somewhat, though my heart continued to knock impatiently in my chest. I leaned over and set my hands on my knees to catch my breath, then looked up with tearstained eyes. The words tumbled out of my mouth, how Rothschild and I would be married in only a week’s time, how the tulips, through his dark magic, would be in full bloom by then.
He looked concerned but not really surprised. “Rothschild always was impetuous,” he growled. He looked aside, at the window, with clouded eyes. “The first time he asked me to Blackstone Hall, my wife was barely six months in her grave.”
I leaned back against the wall and looked up at the tall, dear man in front of me. “I didn’t know…I mean, I’m sorry…” I took another gulp of breath. “Doctor…you were married?”
He looked back at me and I could see the darkness in his eyes, the long-ago pain there. Then he forced a small smile as if to cover it up and stroked his knuckles against my cheek. “I’m sorry, Livia. I don’t mean to burden you with such old tragedies, especially when you have your own to thwart.”
I reached up and grabbed his arm. “No, I want to know! Rothschild…I mean, he didn’t…”
“No, he wasn’t responsible in any way.” His eyes softened as he remembered. “My wife Lenora died in childbirth. It was a long time ago. I was still attending university at the time.” He swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing, but his voice and posture was as steady as any soldier. “Not long after, Lord Rothschild contacted me for the first time. He said he had a possibly lucrative position for me at his Court. But when I arrived here at Blackstone Hall, I learned what he was, and that what he wanted would have been better suited to the talents of a necromancer than a student of science.”
I swallowed. “What did he want?” I was almost afraid to ask.
The Doctor frowned with concern. “He thought I could cure him of his unique…affliction. That’s what he called it. That way, he could one day grow old and join Olivia in death. But I was never able to do it. Bringing Olivia back to life was merely our contingency plan.”
“You mean he wants to die.”
“I’m not sure. I’m not sure if Rothschild himself knows what he wants. However…” He took me by the hand and led me over to his work bench. I touched the edges lovingly, remembering our lovemaking of a few days ago. “Rothschild did give me samples of his blood back then, and I was able to preserve it in resin. It may be of use to us.” He picked up a long test tube that was a dark, tarry color. I shuddered a little at the sight. “I think I may be able to use this to finalize our plans for leaving.”
“How?” Our owl, Llorona, flitted to the crook of my arm and settled there, giving me a sympathetic look.
“Come see.”
He led me over to the Device, which was pulsing faintly. I leaned close, Llorona moving to my shoulder as I squinted through the milky glass. I could see a small, almost humanoid form in a fetal position at the bottom of the glass compartment. “Is that…?”
“It’s a hybrid. I designed her chemically this morning. A combination of Rothschild’s blood and a hair from Olivia’s body.”
I turned slowly from the creature and looked up at Dr. Von Holtz. “But doesn’t that make her…?”
“A vampire Olivia, yes,” he said.
“How does that help us?”
He put his hand on the glass. “When Rothschild sees her, there will be an instant connection between them as sire and fledgling. After all, she will be of his blood. He won’t choose you over that.”
“Can you be sure?”
“Not, but I suspect.”
I looked again through the glass, at the faintly pulsing being. I felt a little guilty, almost like I was using this small, helpless creature to escape, forcing her into my own uncomfortable situation. And I suppose I was. But then Dr. Von Holtz moved closer and encircled my waist with his arm, kissing the back of my neck. “I promise when he sees her, he will be smitten. He’ll love her completely and want to take care of her. After all, this is what he’s wanted all along. A companion.”
“I know that.” I knew it was important that I remain strong if I ever hoped
to escape Blackstone Hall. “But will she be…ready…in just seven days?”
“You were ready in six. I think we’ll just make it.”
* * *
Chapter XIII
The morning of my wedding dawned bright and fresh. The moment I opened my eyes, I wanted to cry.
Instead, I slipped out of bed and went to my window and looked out. Normally, the Hall was assaulted by almost daily thunderstorms. Dr. Von Holtz said Rothschild’s dark magic attracted them. But today was different.
The sky was a shocking azure, and the only cloud cover were bits of wisps clinging to the peaks of the tallest mountain ranges surrounding the little hamlet in the valley far below. There was even birdsong, and from this altitude, the carpets of fully blooming red tulips covered half the courtyard and looked like a sea of blood. The guards were on parole as usual, and other people—cooks, decorators, all manner of people in charge of the wedding, were rushing hither and yon, preparing for the auspicious day of Lord Rothschild’s wedding.
I felt a dismal sinking in my heart. It was such a beautiful day. It should not be my wedding day.
Or night, I reminded myself, for I knew that we would not be wed until Lord Rothschild awakened at sundown. I had until then to escape Blackstone Hall.
The door opened behind me, and my chambermaid, followed by my seamstress and secretary, filed in. “My lady, we’ll need you today to prepare you.”
I sighed and my shoulders slumped. So I was to be washed and coiffured and painted and dressed like some big doll in preparation for this evening. What had the Doctor called me? His little pleasure doll. But somehow it was all right when he called me that. His voice was always warm and husky when he said it, and his face drawn with lines of lust…and love. He touched me like I was of value to him.
But tonight I’d be another kind of doll. I shuddered to think of it. A vampire doll.
The women set upon me like a pack of wolves. It took some time. I was bathed and dressed, my hair curled and pinned, my nails, lips and face painted. Then came the long brocade gown of silver and white that I was sutured into, the veils and flowers. I was only able to rest briefly and take a little tea. During that time, late afternoon, Franz dropped off a note that made my heart pound with hope and anticipation.
It read only, in Dr. Von Holtz’s careful script: She is done.
“I’ll be waiting down in the village tonight with a coach,” Franz informed me with a devious little smile. “I just need you and the Doctor to reach there, and then we can be off to his childhood estate. He inherited it after his father died, you know, and no one knows about it, even Rothschild. You’ll be safe there.”
I smiled in return and gave the dwarf a quick kiss on the forehead that left him blushing profusely. “Thank you, Franz. You’ve always been so kind.”
With a grin he quickly raced from the room.
She is done.
Vampire Olivia was ready at last for her debut.
* * *
Chapter XIV
About a half hour after nightfall, a knock fell on my chamber door.
“Yes?” I said, standing up before my dressing table, my cathedral trail trailing behind me. My heart was knocking. I hoped it was Dr. Von Holtz here to tell me that Rothschild had called off the wedding. But when the door flew open, I recognized the man as Rothschild himself entering. And he looked angry.
He was dressed in a suit of wine-red velvet, a black cape, and his white hair was drawn away from his thin, lined face in a ponytail. He certainly looked like a man on his wedding day…except that his wintry blue eyes blazed with suspicion. He held up a piece of crumpled parchment and said, “Olivia, what is the meaning of this?”
“I don’t understand,” I said, confused by these events.
He tossed the letter at me. I picked it up and read it through.
It was from Dr. Von Holtz, and it invited Rothschild to visit his laboratory in the wizard’s tower before his wedding. It said it concerned me and was very urgent.
“What does the Doctor have to do with you, Olivia?” Rothschild growled in an accusatory way. “What relationship do you have with him?”
I let the letter fall. I knew the Doctor would not have made mention of me except that he was desperate to lure Rothschild to the tower. It was the night of Rothschild’s wedding, after all. He knew Rothschild’s interested would be solely on the festivities…and on his plans for me tonight.
I took a deep breath and grounded my courage. I went up to Rothschild and touched his face. He flinched like he didn’t trust me. “Do you love me, Elric?”
He narrowed his eyes. “You know I do.” But he sounded unsure.
“Then please trust me. You must go to the tower. I’ll even go with you, if I must.”
He looked me up and down. “Like that?”
I had made sure the seamstress had designed my wedding dress with a removable train. I had tried to think of everything in advance, including the fact that when I escaped Blackstone Hall, I might be pursued and there would be no time to get out of my wedding dress.
I easily removed my cathedral train and veil, then took the lord of Blackstone Hall by the hand and led him out of my room. “When you see what we’ve done, it will change the way you feel about me,” I promised him.
* * *
Chapter XV
We climbed the stairs of the wizard’s tower together, the only light coming from Rothchild’s lantern, which he held aloft as we worked our way up the hundreds of steps. His other hand grasped my elbow, as if afraid I might bolt on him.
“This place is filthy,” he grumbled. “You’re ruining your gown, Olivia.”
“We’re almost there.”
Ahead I could see the lantern glowing outside the door, left there by the Doctor so we could find our way. Soon we made it to the top and I pushed the door open on the laboratory. We stepped through and I saw Dr. Von Holtz standing by the Device, waiting for us both.
The Device was cold now and dark, but lanterns were strung around the room, giving us just enough light to see by. Beyond the windows, a new storm was starting to roll it, with a few quick flicks of lightning to cut the indigo sky.
Rothschild looked from Dr. Von Holtz to me and then back again. “Tristan,” he said to the Doctor, “what is the meaning of this?”
I nodded at Dr. Von Holtz and he stepped aside to reveal a young woman.
She looked like me, but she was exceptionally pale, her skin like white paper, making her long russet hair seem to glow darkly about her slender, intense face. Her eyes were pitch black, and she wore a long brocade gown in a shade of heart’s blood that make her skin blaze with cold fire. As a final touch, Dr. Von Holtz had painted her lips and fingernails a deep scarlet.
Rothschild stared at the girl as if mesmerized. Then, after some seconds, he caught his breath and said, “What…what is she? What is this, Doctor?”
“You said you wanted your Olivia back, so I did that.”
“You’ve already brought Olivia back.” Rothschild’s hold on my arm increased, making me wince.
“Not entirely,” he explained. “Livia has few of her memories, and she’s flawed, imperfect for your purposes. But Olivia—this Olivia—is complete and perfect in every way.” The Doctor moved to stand behind her and set his hands on her shoulders, presenting her like a prize. “And she is of your blood, your lordship. She is like you.”
“She is…afflicted,” Rothschild guessed.
“Yes.” The Doctor smoothed her long curls. “Come examine her.”
Rothschild finally let me go so he could step forward and look over the vampire Olivia. She shuddered as he approached, but Dr. Von Holtz held her firmly in place.
“Be gentle. She’s new and skittish,” he said.
But Rothschild didn’t hear, or else his hunger and desperation was too great.
Or perhaps, I thought later on, when all had come to pass, it was Olivia herself. Perhaps she remembered something of her first life. Whatever the caus
e, the moment Rothschild was within reaching distance of her, something happened and Olivia changed.
Her eyes flashed with fear and a whimper gathered in her throat. What the Doctor had said about their attraction was true. But it became too much for Rothschild. He grabbed vampire Olivia by the shoulders, closing his long, white, dead fingers around her delicate bones, and yanked her against him. Her eyes filled with surprise…then rage, and she growled deep in her throat like an angry, panicked cat, her mouth yawning open to reveal her small, needlelike incisors.
“Please, my lord…” Dr. Von Holtz tried to reason with the other man.
“Olivia…” he gasped and she hissed at him and struck him across the face with her hooked red nails.
Rothschild grunted and withdrew, a freshet of dark, almost black, blood covering his face from the wound she’d dealt him. “Olivia!” he roared in outrage.
Olivia backed up, toward the open window. She whimpered and her black eyes simmered with fear and distrust.
Rothschild saw and cried out, trying to reach for her, but he was too slow, or else vampire Olivia only too fast. Before he could reach her, she turned and raced to the window and flung herself out into the open, stormy air. I saw her russet hair fly like a red flag, then she was gone. I heard the impact seconds later, heavy and wet and final, and I shuddered all over at the sound.
Rothschild turned to us both, and his eyes were mad and black with grief and rage. “You!”
He glared at me, and I sensed the exact moment he meant to strike. I wanted to move, to shift out of his way, but long before I even finished thinking about it, he was upon me. He pinned me to the stone floor, his weight incredibly heavy, and wrapped his hand around my throat, jerking my head to one side. He hissed ominously in my ear. I felt the scrape of his teeth at my throat and closed my eyes and tried to accept my fate.
Then he cried out, and his weight lessened considerably. He fell to one side, and I was able to roll out from under him. Dr. Von Holtz stood over me, his hands slicked with black vampire blood from where he’d plunged a long piece of scrap iron he’d used on the Device into Rothschild’s back. He had not found his heart, but he was close, and the way Rothschild struggled and gurgled blood on the floor beside me indicated that he might be mortally wounded.