Night's Gift: Book One of the Night's Vampire Trilogy

by Mary M. Cushnie-mansour

  Max pulled out a side chair near the head of the table for Teresa. I was directed to sit across from her. He did not pull out my chair, which, at the time, I felt was quite rude. Teresa and I stared at each other across the massive table. God, her eyes were mysterious!

  My fingers began to toy with the ruby lace cloth. I lowered my eyes, in order to have a better glimpse of the intricately crocheted figures as well as an ample excuse to release myself from Teresa’s penetrating gaze. I shivered to see demons of every evil sort glaring at me. They almost seemed real. I looked up again. Teresa gave me a smile. I returned an uneasy one.

  I wondered at the need for such a vast dining table; it must have stretched at least fifteen feet. At the head sat a huge captain’s chair. A slightly smaller replica mirrored it at the opposite end. Six mates were set evenly down each side, at firm attention, like guarding foot soldiers.

  I looked closely at the backs of the chairs, trying to make some sense of their elaborate carvings. Suddenly, it dawned upon me what I was seeing. On the back of each chair were carvings of faces with open mouths, exposing vicious-looking fangs. The faces were all different from one another, but each, in its own way, could freeze the blood of an ordinary person like me. The cushions on the chairs had been designed to match the rug. They were adorned with intricately embroidered tapestries of black and yellow roses, bouncing on a sea of red waves. I shuddered just wondering what the sea of red was meant to represent!

  My thoughts returned to the need for such a large table. So far, I knew of only three people living in this house. Were there more? If so, what were they like? Of course, there had to be a cook as I assumed Max could not do all the work a house this large would require. Regardless, I felt that a much smaller table would have sufficed for the three individuals who would be dining tonight.

  A lofty shadow crowded the doorway. “Ah, here we are at last!” The voice oozed silky eloquence. “Teresa, my darling, how are you this evening? I missed your delectable company yesternight.” He strolled over to Teresa. She extended her hand, and he brushed it with what looked like a light, rather cold, unemotional kiss.

  “And you,” he said, turning to me. “How is our unexpected guest tonight? It is not often that we have guests—how shall I say it now?—” He paused and then continued in his smooth voice, “drop in on us. Normally, I like to invite my guests; it is less complicated that way for me. I trust that our hospitality has been adequate?” He flashed me half a smile. I did not notice the fangs that I had previously observed. Possibly I had been mistaken.

  I returned him a half smile and summoned every ounce of courage I possibly could before replying, “I am well, thank you. Your hospitality has been adequate; however, I would like to leave. My family, especially my mother, will be missing me by now. As I informed Teresa yesterday, she expects a call from me every three days. You know how mothers can be when their daughters are out on their own. My mother is worse than most—always calling, fussing, making sure I am eating properly, getting enough sleep, and that I’m not out partying too much. She doesn’t have a lot of use for most of the members of my generation—” What was I doing? I could not believe how I had just run off at the mouth. Whatever had possessed me? I hoped he would not detect the devious undertone in my voice. Was there one? I thought there might have been. I would have to be extremely careful, as he appeared to be intensely intuitive to his surroundings.

  “Maybe you have a phone, so I can call her?” I continued. Surely there was someone out there who I could reach to come to my rescue.

  My hopes were quickly dashed. “We have no phone here. I have no desire to be bothered by outsiders. As I mentioned, invitations are at my request, and I have my own means of contacting people. A phone is nothing more than an inconvenience for me,” the count stated.

  “But how do you get along without a phone?” I asked.

  “Quite nicely,” he grinned, confirming to me that the lack of conveniences was not inconvenient for this man. I shook my head. Damn, his eyes were piercing! I felt as though he were undressing every inch of me as we conversed.

  “You must realize, my dear,” he began, changing the subject, “there is a time and a place for everything, and now it is time to sup, and we are at the place to do so. We will discuss the possibility of your leaving later. Max, serve the meal now, please.” He snapped his fingers and waved his hand at the patiently waiting Max. The subject of my departure was terminated.

  I shuddered to think what might be on my plate, not to mention what would be on theirs! Max set my dish in front of me. I gazed at the spotlessly polished silver. Etchings of wild rose bushes were scattered randomly around on the precious metal, their piercing thorns creeping around the exterior perimeters of the plate under the silvery dome.

  Max removed the lid. I breathed a sigh of relief as I looked down on a well-cooked steak garnished with buttery baby potatoes and crisp green beans.

  “Wine, miss?” Max asked.

  “No, thank you,” I answered, afraid of what might actually be poured into my goblet.

  Max returned my intended wine to the tray and retrieved a different bottle. He approached the count’s and Teresa’s place settings and poured the contents into their wineglasses. I was positive, just from observing the texture of the liquid that Max was not pouring a vintage wine!

  I dared to glance over at the dishes Max set before my hosts—just as I expected. I have seen rare steaks before, but usually there is at least a sign of some braising!

  The count turned to Teresa. His fork hovered in the air, a piece of red meat dripping from the end of it. “Teresa, my darling, have you filled our guest in on any details yet?”

  “No, Count, I have not,” she whispered. I wondered why she whispered. I wondered why she did not look him directly in the eyes. Was she afraid of him?

  A count? She kept referring to him as Count. Had I landed myself in the home of some sort of royal family? Is that why he was so careful about who came and went from his house? But where could he have hailed from? That was the million-dollar question! There were not many royals left in the world—of any notoriety, that is—and if there were an enclave in southern Ontario, I was sure a notation would have appeared somewhere in the presses!

  Then there was the question of why they would choose a small, out-of-the-way city like Brantford to make their home. There appeared to be a substantial difference between the way the royal families of France or England, which I had read about in my history books, selected their living quarters compared to those who might have their roots deep within Transylvania! There I went again—imagining them to be vampires!

  “Good. Very good,” he said to Teresa. He then turned to me. “What is your name, my dear?”

  “Virginia,” I stated in a hushed voice. I was not going to try to fool myself with an illusion of forging any kind of friendship with this formidable figure—now or ever, I hoped!

  “Ah, such a lovely name—Virginia,” the syllables rolled off his tongue. “Such a pretty young woman, too. How unfortunate.” He reached over and twirled a stray strand of my hair around his finger. He smiled. This time, I saw the fangs!

  The balance of the meal was conducted in silence. I had no desire to watch Teresa and the count consume their meat. Just the thought of them eating raw meat turned my stomach—let alone seeing whatever it was they were drinking from their wineglasses! I ate my own meal, quickly and quietly, with my head bowed. I had to eat well. Encountering this man, or whatever he was, I was even surer I would need every ounce of strength I could acquire to get myself out of the house. I also sensed that my fate was being directed on a much different route than the neat little map I had drawn out so meticulously for myself. And what had he meant by “how unfortunate”? Nothing was adding up, but there was one thing I did know for sure—I was terrified!

  The count raised a napkin to his mouth, dabbed the corners of his lips, and then placed it back down on the table. I could not help noticing the tiny red spots dot
ting the white linen. He raised the wineglass to his lips and downed the balance of its contents in one gulp.

  “Teresa darling, would you please bring Virginia to my study when you and she have finished your meals?” It sounded to me more like a command than a request, even though he had said “please.” The count glanced at the grandfather clock at the far end of the room. “I must go out again tonight, so please make haste. There is not much time left before the sun will rise again. There are times I detest the seasons of this country.”

  It was nice to hear him use the word please when he spoke to Teresa, but I had a sinking feeling that he got his way with or without the use of proper etiquette.

  “Yes, Max stated that things had not gone well last night. No major complications, I hope?” Teresa questioned.

  “None that cannot be handled.” The count’s tongue caressed his lips, and he smiled at Teresa. “Don’t be long.” I noticed there was no please this time. He stood and headed for his study, I presumed.

  I finished my plate and then gazed up to observe Teresa as she completed her meal. I noticed she did not consume her drink quite as quickly as the count had his. Maybe she did not have the same palate. Should I ask for her help? Dare I ask her for help? The count seemed to hold some powerful control over this woman. I wondered again what her role in this house was. Wife? Slave? Hostess? Would she be able to help me even if she wanted to? I decided there was only one way to find out.

  “Teresa?” I ventured.

  “Yes.”

  “Is it truly necessary for you to take me to him tonight? Maybe you could just show me the way out. You could tell him I pushed past you, knocked you down, whatever. Please, Teresa, I need your help to get out of here! I do not understand the importance of holding me against my will!” I knew I was begging. Even I could hear the terror in my voice. I also had an eerie feeling, or maybe it was a sixth sense of sorts that if I stayed here much longer my life would never be the same again.

  Teresa frowned. “I don’t understand, Virginia. Why do you so desperately want to leave? Has Max said something to you? Has he stepped out of line? I will speak to him if you like.You know it is so hard to get quality help nowadays. One never knows whom they can trust.” She paused. “But then again, Max has been with us for years; I would trust him with my own well-being, so I honestly cannot imagine he would try to hurt you. It must be something else. Please tell me; what is the problem? Have we not been the perfect hosts? You, yourself, told the count that our hospitality was adequate.” Teresa was acting as if there were nothing wrong with being held against one’s will!

  I had to think quickly. Maybe there was something in what she had said. Maybe I could play her and Max against each other. She had asked me if Max had stepped out of line. If I could force an argument between him and her, perhaps I could slip away unnoticed and find the door to freedom! It was a chance I was willing to gamble on. After all, what did I have to lose?

  “Well, now that you mention it, Teresa,” I began, “Max did do something out of line. While you were sleeping, he made advances toward me. I was totally shocked! I never anticipated such a move from him. He ... he’s so old and grandfatherly looking.” I tried hard to keep my voice edgy. If I were going to play the part, then it would have to be an Academy Award performance. Little did I know, then, that it was the premier of many more performances to come.

  “Max!” Teresa turned on the poor old man. I felt a momentary pang of sympathy for him. What if he were as much a victim in this house as me? Maybe, by telling that horrid lie, I was making his plight even worse!

  “Max, how could you? You know the master’s rules, and you also know the punishment for breaking them!” Teresa’s face took on a worried look, and I thought for a moment that there were tears in the corners of her eyes. Did she care for Max? Did I detect an air of concern for what might happen to him? Was his relationship to Teresa more than that of a multi-tasking household butler? Was he her protector from the count’s rage?

  Poor Max. Oh God, what had I done? It was not usually in my nature to intentionally harm anyone. His mouth hung half-open. There was a look of tortured pain on his face that, for a fleeting moment, I felt truly guilty about what I was doing. But the moment passed quickly, for I realized that, above all else, self-preservation had to be my utmost concern.

  “Madame, I assure you, I never touched the young miss. Surely you know I am not capable of such an act!” Max swung his attention to me. “Why would you contend such a deed, miss? I have never in all my years, and they have been many, done such a thing to a woman! How could you even suggest this?” There was a pleading tone to his words. He was wringing his bony hands as if he were trying to squeeze the nervous droplets from them.

  “What do you mean?” I retorted. “How can you stand there and blatantly lie in front of Teresa? You are a dirty old man who would have liked nothing better than to put your grimy paws all over me. Admit it; why don’t you just admit it?” My voice swelled with anger. “You knew that she and the count were resting, and you probably figured I would never dare to tell! Well, I have told! You are a detestable man to take advantage of a defenceless female guest in such a manner!” I ended with a flourish.

  Max could no longer control his trembling. I realized he was more than afraid. He was petrified. He groped for my hand. “Please, miss, you don’t know him—you have no idea what he is capable of! If he should think for a moment that I had laid even one tiny finger on you, a guest in his home, I could not guess what fury he would inflict upon me. Please, for the sake of all the saints that you believe in, here on earth and in the heavens—for the sake of my soul, of my existence—please confess to Teresa that you are lying. I shall forgive you for this assault on me because I know it is only your desperation to leave here that makes you accuse me. Ple-e-e-ease,” his voice faded away into a forlorn, moaning sound. His face was riddled with fear as he stood there, helpless to stop me as I plunged onward with my deceitful plan.

  I ripped my hand away. “Don’t touch me, you perverted beast! Even here, in front of Teresa, you use any excuse to touch me with your diseased hands!” Admittedly, pity had tried to stir my heart again as he had spoken, but only momentarily. I had already stepped over the line of deceit, and my life took precedence over all other emotions. There was no turning back. Besides, as the allegation had been uttered, I sensed that it was already too late for Max. I had sealed his fate with my first accusation. I also had an eerie sensation that there was another set of eyes in the room, eyes that were taking in the entire scene—HIS eyes!

  “Teresa, please believe me! I never touched her!” Max turned despairingly back to Teresa.

  “She is so convincing, Max; I don’t know...” Teresa’s brow furrowed. She turned away. “The count will be most upset at this turn of events. I ...”

  I saw my chance. They had their backs to me. I dodged for the door and slipped into the shadowy hallway. I ran. I had no idea where I was going, but I knew I had to free myself from this place. An open door appeared amongst the shadows just ahead of me. Was it the door to my freedom? I had no choice but to enter it and find out. Teresa and Max had discovered my escape, and I heard their cries of despair. Any second now they would be running out of the dining room to retrieve me before he found out.

  I slid through the opening and found myself at the top of a long spiral staircase. Quickly, I turned and closed the door. Hopefully, they had not noticed where I had exited.

  I began running down the stairs, taking some of them two at a time. I stumbled several times in my haste, but the railing saved me from tumbling to the bottom. I prayed that wherever these steps led, it would be better than where I had just been. I could smell the moisture from the walls. I could hear dripping water up ahead. All of a sudden I felt a rush of fresh air. I could not believe my good fortune; I had actually managed to stumble on a way out! I wanted to shout for joy but did not dare for fear they would hear me. They were most likely in hot pursuit, and with my freedom bu
t a breath away, I was not willing to take any unnecessary chances.

  The stairs exited into a small courtyard, which I presumed, in the past, had been used when the lords and ladies of this mansion needed to get into their carriages. Rain poured down, drenching my body. Cool, cleansing rain washed this place from my skin and my clothes. I was free! The smell of freedom was so sensuous to my quivering nostrils, and I lifted my face to the night sky.

  Him

  Chapter Four

  Something flew past my face and landed on the courtyard wall in front of me. I imagined I could see two tiny, bright red lights emanating from whatever it was. Could it be? I did not want to believe my eyes. I started to shake. It could not be! How was it possible? I had to find a way out of here.

  I knew there must be an exit somewhere. I began groping desperately along the walls. The darkness of the stormy night was making it exceedingly difficult for me to locate the door. The angry heavens opened even further, and the rain began falling in thick sheets, blurring my already limited vision.

  The thing fluttered over my head. I ducked, hoping to ward off an attack. Oh my God, just as I thought, it was a bat—a huge one, too! The pieces of this puzzling place were still fitting too conveniently into place. I was tired of the whole game. All I wanted to do was quit and go home. Why would they not just let me go? What reason could there be to detain a nobody like me?