Twice Bitten

by R. G. Emanuelle

  Now, that sanctuary seemed like a chamber of horrors. There was no reason for her to go back, except one. Most of what she owned in that flat she had acquired together with Susanna. Those things, she did not want. Her clothes were not of such high value that she couldn't replace them. But the few possessions that were her own before she'd met Susanna held sentimental value for her. She would quickly collect those and leave.

  The stairs that she used to take quickly seemed to go on forever. Each step brought her closer to a nightmare. When she finally reached the top, she pulled the key from her small pouch and unlocked the door. Opening the door a crack, she paused to hear if there was any sound, any sign of movement from within. Hearing and seeing nothing, she stepped in. She made her way in the dark to the oil lamp on the side table, knowing exactly how many steps to take and where to swerve. When she had lit the lamp, she looked around. The room looked exactly as she had left it. Nothing had been moved or taken out. Nothing was different. Yet it was. The dim glow from the lamp made circles of eerie light around the furniture and the few knickknacks they'd acquired. Fiona felt a coldness creep up her arms, around her back, and up her skull. It was a cold that had nothing to do with the weather. This room, once warm and inviting, now was glacial and ominous.

  Not wanting to stay there any longer than she had to, Fiona went quickly into the bedroom and rifled through her belongings. Stopping momentarily, she glanced at the bed she had lain in so many times, snuggled lovingly against Susanna. She would never be that warm or feel that safe again.

  But there was no time for tears and no point in indulging in sadness. Susanna had made her choice. Fiona turned to the jewel boxes on her dresser. There was the cameo that was the only reminder of her mother, who had died of consumption when Fiona was sixteen. She had nothing of her father, who had died during the War of Spanish Succession when she was only nine. The only other things she had ever treasured were the trinkets Susanna had given her over the years, one for each anniversary they were together: the locket, the brooch, the earrings, and the gold ring on her hand. None had been terribly costly, she knew, but their value for Fiona had been priceless. She began crying as she fondled the locket. What she was losing was more costly than even the most expensive jewel in the world. Sobbing, she pulled the ring off her finger and dropped it into the box.

  A noise made her turn around. Susanna was standing in the room watching her.

  A mixture of fear and sorrow pinned her to the spot. For a long moment, they stared at one another. A cold, crawling sensation spread across Fiona's back and chest, and her arms prickled. She felt justified in her fear...she could see, just by looking at Susanna, that she was no longer the woman she had loved. She was different. Something else. Susanna was dead. Literally. The realization that she was now standing in the room with a dead person sent a surge of sickness through her.

  And then she felt pity. The abomination standing before her was an empty shell of a corpse but she had been a loving, caring human being once. The adoration she had lavished on Fiona was often more than Fiona felt she deserved. And the love Fiona had felt for Susanna in return came from the depths of her soul. Tears began to form in her eyes for the woman she had lost.

  Susanna was as still as a stone, but her eyes glowed with fire. Fiona had always known what Susanna was thinking but she was clueless now. If she didn't know better, she'd say Susanna was angry, that she was glowering at her.

  When Susanna finally spoke, her voice cracked. "You returned." It was almost a whisper and so childlike. Her eyes grew wide with hope.

  Fiona's will wavered slightly. "No," she croaked. "Just to get my things."

  Susanna's brow dropped for a second and then her features smoothed just as quickly. Her voice strengthened, too. "What makes you think I'll let you leave?"

  Fiona's insides felt like they were melting. For the first time, she truly feared Susanna. Quickly gazing around the room, she searched for something she could use as a weapon but found nothing. Susanna stood between Fiona and the door. Somehow, she had to get Susanna to step aside.

  Susanna watched as Fiona turned her head in a desperate attempt to find something...anything...to protect herself with. But there was precious little in the way of material possessions, let alone anything that could be used as a weapon.

  "There's nothing, Fiona," Susanna said, obviously aware of what Fiona was searching for. "And there's nowhere for you to go." Her voice was calm, almost gleeful.

  Swallowing her fear, Fiona took the only chance she had.

  "Susanna," she said, straightening her back. "Whoever...whatever...you are now, I know you are still the same person inside." Susanna's glowing eyes told Fiona otherwise, but she continued. "I know you would never do anything to hurt me. You still love me because you can't have stopped loving me in three weeks' time." Fiona paused to gauge how her words were affecting her.

  Susanna's brows dipped slightly. She didn't seem to understand what Fiona was saying.

  "I do still love you," Susanna said. "Very much. That is why you cannot leave."

  She had nothing else but to follow this one chance. Stepping closer to Susanna, she softened her features. When she was face to face with her, she slowly brought her hand up to Susanna's cheek, fighting the churning that was taking place deep within. "Then let me go," she said softly.

  Susanna stood motionless for a moment, as if contemplating the notion. She thought Susanna was about to cry.

  "Please," she said so quietly that Fiona almost didn't hear it. "Please stay with me."

  "Why did you do this?" Fiona's voice was soft, too, both to keep Susanna calm and because her love for Susanna surfaced in a pool of pity.

  "Because he promised me so much. You know how I've always been afraid of dying. He took my fear away."

  "Who? Who promised? Who did this to you?"

  Susanna didn't answer but instead covered Fiona's hand on her cheek with her own.

  "Were you not afraid of...of being this?"

  "A little. But no fear was stronger for me than dying. I faced this fear to rid myself of that one. I fear nothing now. Except one thing."

  Fiona waited for her to finish.

  "Losing you. Being alone."

  She wanted to tell her that it was too late. She'd already lost her. It would be impossible to ever regain what they'd had. "Let me go. For what we had, for the love we shared, let me go." She reached behind Susanna for the door handle. Leaning past her brought Susanna's face very close to hers and she found it too heartbreaking to bear. Her face had been one she'd always wanted to caress, kiss, and look at. Now, being so close to it made her skin crawl. She looked away.

  In the split second it took Fiona to turn her head, Susanna grabbed her and sank her teeth into Fiona's neck. Fiona found herself immobile, and as she slung limply, helplessly, in Susanna's arms, she felt not only her own life force being siphoned out of her, but also Susanna's blood slipping past her skin and seeping into her veins. It was a strange sensation, like someone was dripping icy cold water down her neck. It made her nerve endings burn and her extremities twitch. She learned later that by doing this, Susanna had begun the process of making Fiona her protege. And then she had slipped into darkness.

  Fiona could never quite figure out how long she had slept, but what happened after, she would never forget. Although it had all happened like a dream, the memories were vivid and very real.

  A knock on the front door had awakened her. It was still dark out and she felt like an invalid, an old woman. While she found herself unable to move, she heard voices from the other side of the front door calling her name. She recognized the voices of her friends, who had evidently gotten worried and come looking for her. She picked her head up as much as she could to look out the bedroom door. Susanna was dousing all the lamps in the outer rooms and remained very silent. Fiona opened her mouth to scream, but nothing came out.

  The voices stopped, all was quiet, and Fiona dropped her head back onto the pillow, unable to even
cry.

  She woke up again, somehow knowing that a day had passed. She felt the bed shift as Susanna lowered herself onto it. Susanna leaned over Fiona and kissed her gently on the lips.

  "My love," Susanna murmured, "I'm giving you a gift. You will embrace it as I have. You shall see."

  Susanna sat back up and ran her fingers down the length of Fiona's arm and lifted her hand, kissing the back of it, then the palm, then the wrist. Her lips lingered there and she gave the spot a lick, and Fiona could feel the pulse of her own diminishing heartbeat beneath Susanna's tongue. Then, slowly, Susanna sank her fangs into the flesh, eliciting a soft, helpless moan from Fiona. Then she left her.

  The voices came again at the front door, only this time, Fiona heard them more distinctly, as if they had entered the flat. The bedroom door was closed, so Fiona couldn't be seen lying helplessly on the bed. Susanna's voice was stern in response, and then they were gone again.

  Susanna entered the bedroom. "I told them that, yes, you had indeed come last night, but that you left upset, and I've not seen you since." Susanna blithely moved to the bed and sat down as if they were gossiping over tea. "They insisted on entering and searching the premises but when they came near the bedroom, I told them that if they dared violate this private, personal room, I would call for the constable. Apparently, they were convinced that you weren't here, so they left."

  They left. And they were never coming back. They had almost been able to help her. If they had just opened the door. She had been just beyond that door, lying helpless, slowly morphing into another being.

  One more day passed, and on the third night, Susanna administered the third bite to Fiona's other wrist, completing the transformation.

  Susanna had been clever about it, making sure that she drained enough blood from Fiona to ensure that when she awakened, fully a vampire, her hunger would be so fierce that she would not focus on her anger toward Susanna. Her only thoughts would be to sate the hunger, quench the all-encompassing thirst. And once she did, Fiona would be so intoxicated by the feeding, she would surely not mind her transformation at all. This was what Susanna had been counting on.

  It only made Fiona angry. And it still angered her, all these years later. Yes, Fiona's first thought, desire, and action had been to go out and feed...which she did with Susanna's help...but once the euphoria had left her, anger settled into her core and she lived with it...and Susanna...helplessly.

  She never forgave her.

  Over the many years that had since passed, Fiona often wondered if what she last remembered about that moment in the apartment before she blacked out really happened or if she'd imagined it. If she had imagined it, she'd thought about it so often that it had become reality to her, anyway.

  Just before the world disappeared into darkness and she sank into Susanna's arms, Fiona could swear she heard her say, "You will never leave me. As long as I walk this earth, you will be mine."

  Chapter Twelve

  A WEEK AFTER their picnic with Fiona, Rose met Johanna and Ursula at the theater for a matinee. The show held little interest for her. All she could think about was Ursula, sitting two seats away from her, with Johanna in between. The week had passed miserably. Rose had thrown herself into her daily chores and her Society work, but nothing relieved her of her feelings of rage and betrayal. Logically, she knew she had no claim on Ursula. But she'd been taken away from her before she'd even had a chance to get close to her. She didn't know why Fiona chose Ursula to pursue, but Rose had had a sick feeling in her stomach ever since Fiona left her parlor that day.

  After the show, they went to a teahouse. They chose a place one block over from the theater...a popular gathering place for ladies after the matinees. The aroma of scones and freshly made cookies wafted out the moment the maitre d' opened the door for them. The space was filled with women in their Sunday best, seated at tables with flowered tablecloths topped with lace doilies and steaming ceramic pots of tea. Plates of little cakes sat next to the pots, waiting to be plucked by dainty hands. The maitre d' showed the women to a table against the far wall.

  "So, then, what did we all think of the play?" Johanna asked. "I thought it was wonderful, except for that actress toward the end who sang that horrid song. She was awful. What did you think, Ursula?"

  They spent some time discussing the play, and when they'd finished the tea in the pot, Johanna stopped speaking. Her face grew pale and she gazed blankly at her cup.

  "Johanna, are you all right?" Ursula asked.

  "I suddenly have a headache." As she said this, her hand went to her stomach. "Oh."

  "Do you need a doctor?" Rose asked.

  "No," she replied, her voice shaky. "I do think I need to go home, though."

  "Yes," Ursula said, concerned lines etching her face. "Let's get you home."

  Johanna stood up slowly. "No, please. I'll ask the maitre d' to call me a cab. I don't want to spoil your day." She picked up her purse. "There's no reason for you both to leave."

  Ursula stood up and gently pushed Johanna back into her seat. "All right, but at least sit until the cab comes for you." She waved her hand to catch the maitre d's attention. The tall, thin Englishman trotted over.

  "Yes, ladies. Is there something I can do for you?"

  "Yes," Ursula said, "Miss Adams doesn't feel well and needs a cab to take her home."

  "Oh, I am so sorry, Miss Adams. I shall call you a cab immediately." The man hurried off and went out the door. Ursula could see him through the window standing at the curb, waiting for a cab to come by.

  After a few minutes, the maitre d' returned to their table. "Miss Adams, your cab awaits." He helped Johanna out of her chair.

  "I'm sorry, girls. I'll speak to you soon."

  "Not to worry, Johanna. Just feel better," Rose said.

  The maitre d' escorted Johanna out and into the cab.

  Rose and Ursula sat in silence for a few moments. They had never been alone before. Rose sipped the last of the tea in her cup and wiped her mouth. There was no more tea to drink and there were no more cakes to nibble on. What would they talk about? The silence became excruciating.

  Raising her eyes, she was startled to find that Ursula was staring at her. Her sky-blue eyes locked onto her own and they sat there for several seconds. In that time, Rose felt her whole being transform from solid mass to hot liquid. Her biggest fear at that moment was that she would slide under the table.

  The maitre d' stepped up to the table. "Ladies, I just wanted to tell you that I have placed Miss Adams into a cab and she is on her way home."

  Ursula blinked and looked up at him. "Thank you very much. May we have the bill, please?" She dabbed her mouth with her napkin. The bill arrived quickly and was no sooner placed on the table when she said, "Let's go."

  Rose dabbed her own mouth and reached for her purse to pay for herself. But Ursula moved quickly and placed enough money on the table to pay the entire bill. Ursula shot up and walked toward the front of the teahouse, where one of the waiters opened the door for her. Rose had to pick up her step to catch up to her and was still putting on her shawl when Ursula was out the door.

  Ursula walked briskly. Rose was several steps behind her, calling her name, but she wouldn't stop. Finally, after Rose called out her name for the third time, Ursula stopped. She stood still until Rose caught up with her.

  Rose nearly slammed into her. Breathing quickly, she stepped in front of Ursula to face her. "Ursula, what's wrong? The way you bolted out of there..."

  Ursula looked up at her with pained eyes. Rose fought the impulse to throw her arms around her. She swallowed and whispered, "Ursula?"

  She gingerly put her hand on Ursula's elbow, and she visibly shuddered.

  "Please tell me what's wrong."

  Ursula closed her eyes and her arm shrunk back slightly.

  "You're scaring me. Please say something."

  Ursula opened her eyes and seemed to search for the right words. "I have to go home," she finally said, look
ing down at the ground.

  Rose pushed a lock of Ursula's hair that had fallen into her face back behind her ear. Her fingers lingered on Ursula's cheek and Ursula's heaven-blue eyes burned into hers.

  They stood there a moment like that until Rose became aware of people looking at them oddly as they passed. She brought her hand down. "You don't look well," she said quickly. "Come, I'll get you home."

  Obediently, almost with resignation, Ursula allowed Rose to fetch a taxi and take her home. Most of the ride, Ursula wouldn't look at her.

  When they arrived at Ursula's house, Ursula stepped out of the carriage and waited for Rose to be safely helped out by the driver. Still avoiding her gaze, Ursula marched, head lowered, up the steps of her townhouse and turned the knob. She walked in and held the door open until Rose entered. The housekeeper, Mrs. Troy, hurried over.

  "Please, Mrs. Troy. Leave us," Ursula uttered softly.

  "Are you all right? I don't like the way you look."

  "Yes, Mrs. Troy, I'm fine. Please."

  Mrs. Troy frowned but left them.

  "Let's go into my father's study," Ursula said, leading the way. Once in the room, Rose asked about Mrs. Troy's familiarity. "Mrs. Troy has been our head housekeeper ever since I was a baby," Ursula said as she removed her hat and gloves. "Aside from my nanny, she's always the one I've been closest to. She even calls me by my Christian name. It's something she has always done."

  "Well, that's like Bridget and me. She's been like a second mother to me," Rose said as she looked around the room. She was astounded at the number of books in the large room. Although it was still light out, the heavy curtains on the windows blotted out much of the sunlight. Ursula made her way to a small, round table in the middle of the room and lit an oil lamp that sat upon it. Her father was careful about keeping lamps as far away from any of the books as possible.