The Dark Blood of Poppies

by Freda Warrington

“Because Charlotte isn’t here.” She clasped her arms hard across her waist, but her trembling grew worse. “I’m not the same without her, but we can’t wait for her. I won’t take her into danger just to feed my strength.”

  “We agree on that, at least,” Karl murmured.

  “That’s why I must walk in barefoot with downcast eyes, like Lila of the forest going into the cottage… To set Charlotte free.”

  Karl closed his eyes, couldn’t speak. Yes, he thought, I want Charlotte to be free of her… Does it follow that I want Violette to sacrifice herself while I stand and watch?

  “You’re afraid, aren’t you?” said Violette.

  “Natürlich. I don’t relish the prospect of being ripped apart and beheaded. And I’m thinking of Charlotte.”

  “I’m frightened, too,” Violette said very softly, “of Lilith. If she is the Mother of Vampires, it’s in her power to destroy as well as create her offspring. To take them all with her when she falls.”

  And that, Karl thought, is what I fear.

  * * *

  Sebastian stood on the slope of a hill, trees massed behind him against a wild sky, a banshee wind tearing through their branches. Below him stood Blackwater Hall; cavernous, dusty, empty-eyed. Yet magnificent. His home. A casket to contain the rarest of jewels, his blood-red diamond, Robyn.

  Who no longer loved him.

  He entered the Crystal Ring and the wind sliced through him like a sword. The trees turned to shivering crystal and the house leaned like some distorted cartoon. Above him, seeming close enough to touch, a mass of darkness seethed like an emanation from hell.

  “Rasmila,” he whispered. The ether seemed to vibrate in response. “Kali, Semangelof, my Cailleach; can your blood hear mine?”

  They came to him through the twilight, sable and gossamer, and wound around him like cats.

  “We knew you’d need us,” said Rasmila. She stroked his hair, while Fyodor leaned on his shoulder. “What can we do?”

  He told them.

  “And if we help, will you reward us?” Her voice was a dove’s. “Because we need you, Sebastian. You are more than Simon can ever be. We love you.”

  Sebastian barely heard them, or felt their feathery hands sliding over his body. In his desperation he would agree to anything.

  “Help me, and I’ll sell you my soul,” he said. “Again.”

  * * *

  Surveying the recruits who stood like soldiers for inspection, Cesare was overwhelmed by pride. Thirty perfect humans, ripe to receive the Crystal Ring’s gift. Fit, powerful young men with blond hair and blue eyes, all soundly drilled in the discipline of obedience and loyalty. Men who worshipped their vampire leader as God.

  There was Werner on the front row, one of Cesare’s favourites. An idealist, a bright star.

  Another thirty had been eliminated as unworthy. Some had never recovered from John’s attentions. A few had been wilful, threatening to run away and tell the human “authorities” – for all the good that would do. Others had fallen ill from the overenthusiastic feeding of vampires. Of course, some were bound to fall by the wayside. They were only mortal, after all. The ones who’d passed were exceptional.

  Cesare’s pride was tempered by sad anger. One of his best men, sent to poison Violette’s precious ballet, had not returned. Cesare suspected that either Karl or Violette had killed him. The mission had failed, but even the death of a cat was a small victory.

  Their spies brought a fragment of good news, too. Charlotte was no longer with Violette.

  Simon believed her absence would weaken Lilith. But Cesare did not fully trust Simon. He trusted Fyodor and Rasmila even less. They lurked on the fringes, even though no one wanted them, and who knew what schemes they had? Still, their obsession with Simon made them unlikely to cause trouble.

  The humans were grouped in the centre of the chamber, flanked by immortals. Simon and John were behind his right shoulder, Pierre in the audience to Cesare’s left. Everyone waited eagerly to hear Cesare’s last speech before the transformation.

  Cesare was profoundly moved. He thought, This is too much happiness for anyone to bear. I’ve been called insane but how can I be, when they share my vision and love me for it?

  Standing on the dais before Kristian’s throne, he began.

  “Tonight you’ll wear the white robes of initiates, while your initiators don the red robes of immortality. Consider the symbolism of the colours; the white of innocence and the red of knowledge, of blood.”

  He smelled the heat of the men’s excitement. They trembled to be elevated alongside their ruthless, jewel-eyed masters.

  “Our father Kristian rejected the drinking of blood as a carnal act, asking that we deny our natural desires and exist only on life-auras. But I say that the appetite for blood is a gift to be used wisely. Use it only to subjugate your prey. Never indulge for pleasure, for that way lies ruin. Carnality is a human weakness that you will soon leave behind forever. Sin has no place here!” On these words his stare pierced Ilona, who was at the rear of the chamber with the remaining female vampires, a minority now.

  “Devote all your love to your leader and to God; devote every act of feeding to God, shun the weakness of flesh, and we shall rule the world.” Cesare leaned forward, directing a steel glare at them. “Do you think I exaggerate? Consider this: God set us above men. He created us to punish their sins. We have divine ordinance in the form of Simon, His envoy. The time is coming when He will set us to rule mankind!

  “Tonight, thirty new vampires will be created. Next time, sixty, our numbers doubling each time. Think how swiftly our numbers will increase! We will inhabit new castles, a network of strongholds across Europe. First there will be infiltration of human institutions, then their destruction and replacement by vampire law.” His voice rose to an ecstatic shout. “That is the work we begin here tonight. An immortal empire, ordained by God!”

  Their cheers were deafening. Cesare nodded in thanks, arms clasped across his chest, tears escaping over his lashes. He left the dais and moved among his flock. They clasped his hands, crying, laughing, as if he were their messiah.

  As Cesare neared the back, however, he noticed that Ilona contributed no more than polite applause, so half-hearted as to be an insult.

  Cesare loathed Ilona. She didn’t share his ideals. She was of the old guard, a slave to carnality, her only motive for helping a desire for revenge against Violette. She’d been useful, but his new world held no role for her. After the initiation, he decided, she wouldn’t survive long.

  He stopped short of the female group. They looked disappointed when he turned away, especially his pet, Maria, but he ignored them. What female could he trust, when all were tainted with Lilith’s power?

  Cesare’s utopia held no place for sexuality or for death.

  His ideals were nothing new: they were ancient, tried and tested. But to him, as he breathed in charged excitement of his disciples, they sprang eternally fresh, like gospel truth.

  Pierre caught his arm, speaking rapidly. “What if Lilith comes again? Last time, she filled the castle and swept Charlotte and Karl away like dolls! Aren’t you afraid?”

  “No such word exists here,” Cesare said icily. “And if I hear that name mentioned again, the speaker will be permanently silenced.”

  Pierre glared back from sullen eyes.

  “She’ll come,” said Simon over Cesare’s shoulder. “She won’t be able to stay away. I promise you, she’ll come.”

  Pierre looked down, shuddering.

  There is too much of the female and the decadent in all these older vampires, Cesare thought as he mounted the dais again. They’ll have to be stamped out in time.

  But tonight was for the celebration of life. Not the faintest shadow of fear touched him as he surveyed the shining faces of his acolytes. He had never felt more serene.

  Then, with humble grace, he seated himself in Kristian’s dark throne.

  The roar of approbation shook the walls.
/>   * * *

  Robyn had fallen asleep with her head on Sebastian’s chest. When she woke to darkness, she was alone in bed.

  He’s gone out to feed, she thought with her eyes still closed. To suck out someone else’s life so he can spare mine. How long could I have gone on, knowing that?

  Well, not for much longer. Guess that salves my conscience. She stretched and turned over in bed, feeling warm, cradled in cream and blue silk. Today I start for home. I mustn’t even think about Violette. Alice will be glad to see me, at least.

  But the thought made her uneasy. Can I go back to my dull old life, after knowing Sebastian?

  Light moved across her eyelids. She opened her eyes to see Sebastian staring down, his face a carving of candlelight and shadow. She could appreciate his beauty now in a detached way, unmoved by insatiable longings and fears. Such a relief. Violette’s gift.

  “You startled me,” she said. “I thought you were out. What time is it?”

  “Time doesn’t matter here,” he said. His tone sent a flicker of panic through her. He sat on the edge of the bed and gave her a warm look that verged on a smile. “So, you’re off on your travels today.”

  “I have to go.”

  “No need to sound apologetic. After all, if you no longer love me, there’s no point in you staying. On the other hand, maybe you never loved me at all. You never said it.”

  “I told you I still want to see you,” she said gently.

  “Do you, now? Have your cake and eat it? But what if I don’t agree? If I said, ‘Leave me now and you’ll never see me again,’ could you bear it?”

  Be strong, she told herself. “Blackmail won’t help. I’d have to bear it, wouldn’t I?” She took his hand. His skin was cold, like quartz. “Don’t take it badly, dear, please.”

  “There is nothing to take badly,” he said, “because you are not going anywhere.”

  She tried to sit up, but he held her down. At first, still confident, she felt indignant. Then fear filled her in a rush. His eyes consumed her; soft, leafy, soot-fringed, they were ciphers of a single-minded and merciless will.

  Her words tumbled out. “We’ve discussed this, I thought you understood.”

  “What is there to go back to?” he broke in. “Can you resume your old life, after knowing me? I don’t think so.”

  Robyn flinched. “I’ll find something.”

  “No, you won’t.” Gripping her arms, he lifted her half out of bed. “You forced me to admit that I love you, I love you to the exclusion of all others.” Suddenly he slammed her back against the headboard. She cried out, more in shock than pain. His fervour terrified her. “You can’t do that without taking the consequences! You can’t reject me now. You’ve got to accept it all!”

  As she gasped for breath, straining uselessly to evade him, she saw two figures at the foot of the bed. One she knew: Rasmila. The other was a long slender being like a snow-covered willow, his skin and hair pure white. The two vampires shone with unnatural energy, their eyes bright with hunger and unknown intent. She saw no trace of humanity in them. Demons.

  She managed to say, “What do they want?”

  “Rasmila and Fyodor are here to help me.” His face was too close to hers, his eyes glittering.

  “To do what?”

  “To make you the same as us.”

  Her heart bucked with terror. “Why?”

  “So you’ll never grow old, beautiful child. So your earthly life won’t matter. So we can stay together forever.”

  She couldn’t take in what he’d said. The prospect filled her with absolute revulsion, with denial in every cell. She knew, with complete certainty, that this must not happen.

  “I don’t want it,” she said when she could speak. “I want to grow old and be a grand old lady. I don’t want to live forever, not at your price. I can’t become some unnatural thing that drinks blood, I just can’t. I wouldn’t be me!”

  Sebastian tightened his grip, lifting her out of bed as he spoke. “Yes, it is terrible, but you don’t understand. It’s also wonderful. I’m taking you into the Crystal Ring because I can’t let you go, now or ever.”

  Robyn went on fighting and protesting, but her strength was nothing against his. After the tenderness he’d shown, she’d forgotten how physically powerful he was. Nothing tender about him now. His love was as dazzling and fierce as that of a god.

  She fought for her life while he whispered in her ear, his hands numbing her arms. Realising this was hopeless, that no amount of protest would deflect his will, she became more frantic.

  “I’m going to take your blood and your life now,” he was saying, “but don’t be afraid, because the Crystal Ring will give back what we take. My friends will help you. We’ll hold your hands and form the circle of un-death. You must trust us.”

  “This is against my will,” she said, sobbing now. “Never forget, you did this against my will.”

  He clasped her hard, his mouth hot on her throat. She felt her ribs creak and thought they’d break. Over his shoulder she saw the other vampires drifting closer. Ghouls with staring, white-ringed eyes.

  “Robyn.” Sebastian’s voice was muffled, raw with emotion. “You must love me, or I’ll die.”

  His pain caught a nerve deep inside her. She wanted to say, I never said I didn’t. If I don’t love you, why does it hurt so much that you can treat me like this? His anguish almost won her back, despite Violette… if only he’d given her a chance to speak.

  Too late. The familiar, sensual thrust of pain obliterated her thoughts. He sucked hard and savagely, convulsing against her, strangling her.

  For a time there was only the steel ache in her veins. She held him now instead of fighting, her hands locked around his back. Then a horrible greyness invaded her brain, a dust storm. She couldn’t see or breathe. She was sinking. Her limbs were weightless, as if she were made of some strange loamy substance that floated away as all the liquid drained out.

  She was bone-cold, shivering. Mad with fear, her mind was a panicking, trapped bird. Dying.

  Everything tipped sideways. Sebastian had let her go. She had a vague impression that he was holding her left hand and Rasmila her right, while Fyodor – a spectre floating before her – completed the circle. But she couldn’t feel her hands. Reality vanished. Only fear remained.

  There was one last jolt, like a small but essential fire being sucked out of her.

  Then darkness.

  * * *

  The building that housed Ballet Janacek was empty and silent, a great desolate shell around Violette.

  Only she and Karl remained there now. With regret she had postponed rehearsals of Witch and Maiden, called everyone together, and told them that for personal reasons she must close the ballet for a few days. Rather than lie, she told them nothing, simply asked for their patience.

  “Go home, take a holiday, whatever you wish,” she told them. “All your wages and expenses will be paid. Your jobs are not in peril. Please bear with me.”

  Secretly she’d left a sealed letter with her solicitor, to be opened if she did not return within seven days. It gave instructions for Charlotte, Ute, and her most trusted staff to run the company.

  It didn’t occur to Violette that they might not want to go on without her.

  The mass departure that morning had been subdued, unhappy. Violette still couldn’t be sure her people would be safe. She could only hope that Cesare lacked the resources – or the spite – to track down individuals.

  They wanted to stop me dancing, and now they’ve got their wish, she thought. But they will pay.

  Now it was afternoon, wintry and overcast, luminous with snow. Nothing to do but wait for Fyodor and Rasmila.

  She saw a recurring image of herself, walking barefoot and downcast between them, being presented to a triumphant Simon. This was no longer to do with God: it was personal. Surrender, humiliation, death… or worse, eternal life in some prison of the spirit. Out of other vampires’ hair, but forever a
torment to myself.

  She felt the pressure of their will like ever-increasing gravity. Vampire and human alike, all want me dead.

  No, stop this, she thought. You forced me into this, Lilith. Don’t desert me now!

  But the hours dragged by, and Rasmila and Fyodor failed to appear. Dusk drew in.

  “I can’t bear this waiting,” Violette said finally. “Why haven’t they come?”

  “I wish I knew,” said Karl. “They were so eager to have you, I can only think something’s stopped them. Perhaps Simon doesn’t want you after all. He may have thought they were idiots for bringing their most dangerous enemy into the castle on the eve of the grand transformation.”

  “What shall we do?”

  Karl looks so sure of himself, she thought, so calm, even if he is not.

  “Fetch Charlotte and disappear,” he answered without hesitation. “To Africa, New Zealand, or wherever Stefan’s gone, and hope Cesare forgets us. I’m not a coward but I am also not stupid.”

  “I know that, Karl,” she said dully. “But it’s no good. I have to keep my promise. With or without an escort, I must face my enemies. You don’t have to…”

  “I told you,” he said with a faint sigh. “If you go, I’m coming with you.”

  They were dressed in simple clothes, for ease of movement; Violette in a loose greyish-mauve dress, Karl in white shirt and charcoal trousers. And she had stockings and plain solid shoes, not the bare feet of her visions.

  “You haven’t fed enough,” Karl said as they moved through the grumbling storms of Raqia. “How will you have the strength to fight Cesare if you keep yourself in this permanent state of hunger?”

  I wish I were alone, she thought. Lilith is a solitary creature; I don’t even want Charlotte. This is my battle and I don’t need Karl to be the voice of my conscience.

  “I’ll take Cesare’s blood,” she said savagely. “And Simon’s. I’ll take yours!”

  Karl said nothing. His eyes were dark with concern.

  “Don’t look at me as if I’m mad,” she said. “I drink as much as I can bear to. I’m not going there to fight. One execution – then I let them have their way.”