With every step, Charlotte’s apprehension increased.
She hung back, pulling her aura tight within her skin. The last thing she wanted was for the woman to sense she was being followed. Presently Fadiya stopped, distracted by a bohemian-looking young man who came weaving along the lane the opposite way. He waylaid her, chattering in French to which she responded fluently. She let him light a cigarette for her, pretended to smoke it. The red tip danced as she flirted. Then it curved down and hit the flagstones as she moved in, her dark head almost disappearing in the folds of his scarf and coat collar. A couple, kissing in the shadows… until his head fell back and he began to slide down the wall behind him. Charlotte caught the luscious aroma of blood, subtly different from her own victim’s, like distinct wines. Fadiya stepped from the tangle of his folded legs and walked away as if nothing had happened.
“Oh,” Charlotte whispered to herself. She stood frozen, dismayed that her suspicions were correct. “Oh no, please tell me this isn’t real…”
* * *
A few minutes later, she was back inside Trois Loups Noir. Fadiya was at Emil’s side again as if she’d only slipped out to the powder room. As Charlotte watched, the pair went to the dance floor and began whirling in a quickstep. Fadiya’s face was enchanting with affection and good humour… and stolen blood.
Emil has no idea, thought Charlotte. And if she’s feeding on others, does that mean she’s feeding on him? If not, it’s only a matter of time.
“Charlotte?”
The voice startled her. Amy Temple was standing in front of her, looking puzzled. “Charlotte, it is you, isn’t it? What on earth have you done to your hair?”
“Um…” Charlotte spoke in a whisper, pulled Amy into a corner so the group at Emil’s table wouldn’t see them. “Yes, it’s me. It’s a wig.”
“I don’t understand.” Amy looked baffled and hurt. “You said you couldn’t come. Why are you here, but avoiding us?”
Charlotte drew Amy to a small table with two empty chairs, sat facing her. A waiter approached, and Charlotte waited patiently as Amy ordered champagne.
“I’m sorry,” Charlotte said when he’d gone. “I know it looks peculiar, but it’s rather complicated. I’m not avoiding you. I’m… watching someone. Dear, can I trust you?”
She looked straight into Amy’s small, pretty brown eyes, softening her will with vampire glamour. She felt guilty doing this, but there was no time to waste.
“Of course you can,” said Amy. “You saved my life. By the way, did you hear the news? That hateful Dr Ochsner was found dead in his office. I shouldn’t be glad, but I am.”
“I hadn’t heard,” Charlotte said honestly. She knew without anyone telling her. “What happened?”
Amy shrugged. “A heart attack, they said. I would like to think that one of his patients leapt off the examination couch and murdered him: is that terrible of me? Apparently he was known for being sadistic, not that my uncle seemed to know or care. But people like him never suffer as they deserve.”
“No, they never do,” Charlotte said softly.
“Anyway, are you going to explain why you’re creeping around like Mata Hari without even talking to us? Pardon me for saying so, but that dress really isn’t you, and your lipstick’s a bit smudged…”
“Is it? Do you have a mirror?”
Amy passed her a powder compact from her purse and Charlotte cleaned away the smudges with a fingernail. It was only lipstick, not blood. As she handed back the compact, Amy asked, “Who are you watching?”
“I can’t say, but if I ask you some questions, will you promise not to tell your friends you’ve seen or spoken to me?”
“Of course. They don’t know you anyway, so…”
“I know Emil, a little.”
The small eyes widened. “You know him? Mariette’s the only one among us who’s even a bit famous, so I don’t think she’s very pleased to be eclipsed by Emil Fiorani, of all people. How do you know him?”
“I know some people at the Ballet Lenoir,” Charlotte said vaguely. “Please bear with my questions. Your group of friends…”
“They’re a nice crowd, but goodness, they love to drink. I can’t keep up.”
“And you’re not allowed to be with them.”
“Absolutely not.” Amy gave a small grin. “I shall be in so much trouble when we get home.”
“The dark-skinned girl with Emil; are you friendly with her?”
“Fadiya? She’s the new make-up artist. Yes, she’s charming.”
“How long have you known her?”
“Only a few weeks. I don’t remember where she appeared from. They say she was married to a French soldier who brought her over from Algeria, but he died… so sad. Do you want me to introduce you?”
“No! No, it’s all right. I’m not supposed to be here, remember?” Charlotte smiled. “Do you know anything else about her?”
“Not really.” Amy was frowning. “She doesn’t live in the house with us. I’m very surprised Uncle Godric employed her at all; he can be a bit… dismissive of anyone who’s not of traditional German-Swiss stock. But she’s terribly nice – she talks to me a lot. Heaven knows what we talk about!”
“You don’t remember?” Charlotte ran her gaze over Amy’s throat, but saw no tell-tale silvery marks, no sign of the feverish madness that sometimes overtook a vampire’s victim.
But if Fadiya hadn’t infiltrated the studios in order to feed, why was she there? Perhaps she was saving Amy for a special treat… Charlotte quickly looked away from the enticing skin.
“Oh, everything and nothing. Gossip, jokes…”
“Did she tell you she’d met Emil?”
“Oh, yes!” Amy’s eyes brightened. “Not long ago, only two or three weeks. No one believed her, but she said, ‘I’ll prove it,’ and here he is. I’m a little envious. Who wouldn’t be?”
“And did she say how they met?”
Amy shook her head, more in vagueness than denial. “At a café by the lake, I think. Nothing dramatic. She’s trying to persuade Emil to meet my uncle, so he can put him into the new film! Imagine that.”
“I’m trying.” Charlotte looked down at the glass of champagne she hadn’t touched, watching the bubbles rise in delicate necklaces. I can’t begin to imagine Violette’s reaction to that idea.
“But Wolfgang won’t be happy if Uncle gives the lead role to someone else, and we’d have to reshoot the scenes we’ve already done… Is something wrong?”
“Oh… just that I don’t think Madame Lenoir would be pleased if her principal dancer went off to become a film star.”
“So you are spying on him?” Amy whispered.
“Yes.” Charlotte held her eyes, mesmerising her a little. Enough to stop her asking too many questions. “I had no idea he was coming with you until I followed him. You won’t tell anyone.”
“You’re being very mysterious but no, of course I won’t.”
“And Amy… Your uncle hasn’t behaved very well towards you, has he? Perhaps you should think of returning to England.”
Amy dropped her head. Her voice tightened. “Did you have to bring him up? I don’t know. Some days I think I can’t endure him a moment longer… but then, he’s giving me this experience of working in movies, and how else would I learn? I should feel so ungrateful if I left.”
“Are you frightened of him?”
“Sometimes. He wouldn’t understand. Anyway, I can’t afford to go to Hollywood, it’s such a long way.”
Her gaze turned thoughtful, with a glint that was part angry, part yearning. Charlotte reached across the table and pressed her hand on Amy’s warm forearm.
“Could you help Karl and me buy a cine-camera? Show us how to work it? Are they terribly expensive?”
“Depends what you consider expensive. There’s a new Bolex model that’s designed for home movie-makers, but the quality is near-professional. I could lend you mine, to see if you like it… Why?”
Charlo
tte shrugged. “We like to try new things. Perhaps we could film the ballet ourselves and not bother your uncle at all. Perhaps you could help, since you know what you’re doing and we don’t.”
“Bother him?” Amy stifled laughter, smiling behind her hand. “That is a lovely idea. Uncle would be frantic with rage if I took the project from him. Frantic.”
“It’s not his project. It never was,” Charlotte sighed. “Would you help us?”
“Of course. I’ll happily lend you my camera, but it’s not that simple. Asking my uncle to process the film would be awkward…”
“We’d rather he knew nothing about it.”
“And I daren’t try to use the lab in secret, because there’s always someone in there and they’re bound to catch me. There are commercial laboratories, but…”
Charlotte shook her head. “We’d rather do everything ourselves.”
“But you’ll need to create a darkroom, with processing tanks, and all the chemicals, which have to be kept at the perfect temperature and concentration or you can ruin the film in a moment, and it has to be dried, and when you’ve got the negative you have to go through it all again to make the print, and then there’s splicing and editing… Oh, and you’ll need a projector, of course. It’s not impossible, but it’s an awful lot of work.”
“Don’t look so worried,” Charlotte said gently. “I used to work in a laboratory. My father taught me chemistry and physics. Karl’s a quick learner, too. I’m sure it’s not beyond our wit to learn how to develop film. We’ll buy everything we need, if you’ll just give us a guiding hand?”
“All right.” Amy brightened. “If it’s what you want, I’d love to help.”
“I’ll hold you to that, when the champagne’s worn off.” Charlotte smiled.
“If I can sneak out without Uncle asking questions…”
“Stop worrying about what he thinks. And promise me one more thing. Don’t be alone with Fadiya, ever.”
“Why not?”
Because she might be planning to feed on your blood, you idiot! Charlotte bit back the words. “Just keep out of her way. Some people are not as nice as they seem. They have ulterior motives. Promise me.”
“All right,” Amy said, submitting to Charlotte’s will. “If you say so.”
“I shouldn’t keep you from your friends any longer.”
“You’re not. I like talking to you.”
Charlotte fell quiet, wondering, What on earth do I do with this knowledge? Confront Emil, tell him to stop seeing Fadiya? Or confront her? She’s shown no signs of sensing me, another vampire, but that doesn’t mean she hasn’t. I don’t know. If I approach her, she’ll know her secret’s out and there’s no telling what she’ll do. She might be reasonable, or she might savage me. But I can’t leave Emil alone with her… In fact my only option is to spy on them from the Crystal Ring, every moment of the night, and only intervene if she attacks him.
Charlotte groaned at the prospect. The things I do for you, Violette…
She raised her head as a man with slick dark hair swaggered towards them. He was the one who’d driven Amy, Emil and Fadiya to Paris. The male lead from The Lion Arises.
“Amy!” he shouted over the noise. “Aren’t you coming back to us? What are you up to?”
“Peter, I’m just talking to – oh, that’s odd. She was there a moment ago.”
Charlotte had slipped sideways into the Crystal Ring, vanishing like ground-mist into thin air. Amy was left frowning at her empty chair, Peter staring at Amy, and to Charlotte, they looked like flattened silhouettes, outlined by needles of fire: the signature of their vibrant human energy.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
THE MISTS RUSH IN
Violette was practising warm-up exercises in the living room of her private apartment: Charlotte suspected she did so out of habit, not necessity, like a form of meditation. For a time she stood watching the dancer, entranced by the way her raven hair slid over her shoulders as she moved, her sheer unconscious grace and passion. So much potential for love lay coiled inside Violette, but outsiders rarely saw inside the ice shell. She has so many layers, Charlotte thought. Her fervour on stage, her cold armour, the grief and vulnerability that she rarely let anyone see, her unending war with herself, the goddess-demon inside her and her core of deep wisdom.
Sometimes she’s the most wonderful person I’ve ever known, and sometimes the worst. Who can fathom her? That’s why she holds us in thrall, me and poor Emil and almost everyone who sets eyes upon her.
Charlotte was conducting an experiment: holding in her vampiric aura so tight that she was effectively invisible. She needed to know if her effort was working, so she could judge whether or not Fadiya had only pretended to ignore her in Paris.
Apparently her skills were effective. Violette began to dance in the space between furniture and mantelpiece, and did so unselfconsciously for five minutes before she noticed Charlotte. And then, only when she turned and saw her.
She stopped dead with a gasp of surprise.
“How long have you been there?”
“A few minutes. Sorry. I wanted to see if I could, without you sensing me.”
“Well, there is your answer.” Violette came to kiss her cheek, half smiling, her eyes anxious. “You’re alarmingly good at it, although I confess I wasn’t paying attention. So, what news?”
Charlotte swallowed, moistened her lips.
“Emil’s lady friend…”
“You’re hesitating.” A familiar, dangerous blue fire lit her eyes. “This isn’t going to be good news, is it?”
“No, it isn’t. I don’t know how to tell you.”
“She’s a ballerina from a rival company? Or married to a man so famous that the affair will cause a public scandal? Just tell me.”
“Worse. She’s a vampire.”
Violette’s face went from ivory to the white of fresh snow. Charlotte expected rage, but Violette was speechless.
When she finally reacted, her voice was hoarse. “Are you sure? This is unbelievable. Is it someone we know? Ilona? No, obviously not, or you would have recognised her instantly.”
“Quite. I’d never seen her before the first time with Emil. I should have seen at once what she was, but I didn’t. She must be an adept at concealing her aura. Only the slightest hint leaked out, deep blue like the night sky, and I thought nothing of it. I was doing the same – shielding myself, I mean – so I hope she didn’t sense me either, because I was within feet of her at times.”
“All right.” Violette sat on a chair arm, hands folded in her lap. “Start from the beginning.”
Charlotte described all that had happened.
“I began to suspect in the nightclub. Her odd bluish glow made me wonder. Later, when I followed her outside and saw her take a victim, I knew for certain.”
“And then?”
“She went back in to Emil and carried on as if nothing had happened.”
“Did you let them go back to their hotel together?”
“Let them? What choice did I have? I could hardly barge between them and cause a scene, in public or private. I barely know Emil, and nothing at all of this Fadiya, or how powerful she is. Dear, if I’d confronted her, it could have ended in disaster.”
“I know,” Violette said tightly. “She might have attacked you, or him. I appreciate the danger, but the thought of him alone with her…”
Violette tended to veer between tight self-control and violent emotion. Since gaining a deeper insight into her own nature, she was more self-aware and focused, but no less dangerous.
“I don’t think she’s fed on him,” Charlotte added. “Or… not much.”
“Not much? Not at all, if she values her life.”
“We’d have noticed signs, wouldn’t we? I followed them into their room, but all I saw was… what you’d expect between two humans. It wasn’t easy, because I had to stay in the edge of the Crystal Ring, so I could observe without them seeing me.” She tried to forget the ache
of witnessing their ecstasy, while she dared not let herself lose control with Karl. “Eventually, he fell asleep but she stayed awake – obviously – her eyes wide open, glittering.”
“Fighting temptation?”
“I imagine so. I can’t know what was in her mind. And I didn’t stay all night. This morning I saw the party getting ready to drive back. I still don’t think she’s touched him, but…”
“It’s only a matter of time before she does,” said Violette. “To wait so long is strange.”
“Is it? I knew Karl far longer before he finally… That aside, I don’t like the fact that Amy’s also in obvious danger.”
“Herr Reiniger’s niece? Are you sure?”
“Well, it’s unlikely Fadiya won’t give in to temptation. But… perhaps she’s only interested in Emil.”
As she elaborated, Charlotte watched anger and puzzlement fleeting through Violette’s eyes. Eventually she added, “I’m sorry to break this news to you. I hoped Emil would be happy with this girl – I never dreamed…”
“Don’t apologise. Unless you introduced them, it’s not your fault, is it?” said Violette. “But if she can refrain from feeding on Emil – if – what else does she want with him?”
Charlotte stared at her. “What did Karl want with me? What did I want with you? Or you, with Robyn? Sometimes vampires fixate on humans. It’s love. However twisted, it’s still a form of love.”
Violette’s eyes were so fierce that Charlotte expected them to set her on fire, to scorch anything they touched.
“And look where that fixation has brought us all. You and I, unhuman blood-drinkers. Robyn, dead. Do you think I’ll leave Emil at such risk? I must put a stop to it.”
Charlotte gave an inward groan.
“I know, but poor Emil – how are you planning to stop them? First you break his heart, then you tell him he can’t find consolation with someone else? Are you planning to explain what she is, and what you are?”
The Dark Arts of Blood Page 25