Karl turned, so that his profile was towards the window. His expression was cool, there was no blood on his mouth, but David thought he looked different; glowing, intangibly in control. “I will not have you laying a finger on any of the Nevilles,” he said softly. “Is that clear?”
Pierre lifted his head. His blue eyes looked sleepy, out of focus. “Miserable bastard,” he said. “Dog in the manger, I think that’s the phrase.”
“I am not expecting promises,” said Karl. “I am simply telling you. You will not touch them.”
Touch us? For God’s sake, what does he mean?
Pierre said, “You do this to me, then expect me to starve to death?”
“I don’t care what you do, once you are out of this house.”
“How do you expect me to leave?” Pierre exclaimed. “I can’t move from this seat, let alone do anything else.”
“Don’t be an idiot,” Karl said coldly. “You can walk to the door. I will drive you somewhere. I just want you as far away from this house as fast as possible.” He clasped his hand round Pierre’s upper arm and pulled him up like a rag doll.
Pierre stood swaying in his grip. “Your charming hosts will think me terribly rude.”
Karl laughed, a soft, mellifluous sound that chilled David. As they walked to the door, Pierre said, “What about Ilona?”
David did not hear Karl’s reply. They were gone. The library had a frozen look, like an empty stage, but the plum-red drops of blood on the carpet seemed full of significance.
Karl sounded as if he was trying to protect us from Pierre in some way—but Karl’s own behaviour was inexplicable. “Dog in the manger,” Pierre called him—as if Karl had some vested interest in us… Christ. David’s first instinct was to stop them and demand to know what was going on. He sprinted down the terrace steps, round to the side of the Hall and past the kitchens, but he had to scale a gate to reach the front drive and he was too late. Karl’s Hispano-Suiza had gone from the open garages and there was the swiftly receding growl of an engine.
David swore. There was no point in chasing them. Better to go back and see if Anne could shed any light. He was thinking of Edward’s warnings. What I saw and heard might make sense if they literally were—no, it’s too preposterous!
***
“And they knew I was there,” she said. “I made sure I kept out of sight, but they knew.”
Charlotte listened with her head bowed. Eventually she said, “You shouldn’t have been spying on them, Anne.”
“Maybe not, but I do think there were extenuating circumstances. If there’s something bad to be found out, it’s best we know.”
Charlotte looked up, her face frozen with suppressed shock. “Remember I told you I saw a man outside Corpus Christi who vanished, and I thought I was seeing things? It was that man, Karl’s friend.”
“Are you sure?”
“Positive.”
Before Anne could pursue the matter, David came running down the steps and flung himself down in a chair opposite the two women, out of breath.
“What happened, did you see anything?” said Anne. “Why have you been running?”
“I’ll tell you when I get my breath back. Yes, I saw a damn sight more than I wanted to,” David said grimly. “Look, Charli, I really think it would be better if I spoke to Anne alone.”
“No,” Anne said firmly. “She has a right to hear this, however difficult it is. It’s about time you started treating Charlotte as an adult.”
David pushed his hair back, sighed. “I thought I did. Actually, I was trying to spare my own blushes, but—all right, then—I saw, er—” he cleared his throat. “I saw Karl in some sort of embrace with Pierre. Arms round him, his face down in Pierre’s neck. Don’t know how to describe it, really.”
“Are you saying you think they’re homosexual?” said Anne. “Oh, don’t look like that, I do know about these things!”
He frowned at her, then his expression cleared and he shook his head. “I’m not that prudish. I just feel I ought to pretend to be, sometimes. Father’s influence. Yes, it’s a possibility, but it didn’t look like affection, Anne. It’s more usual for chaps to sock each other on the jaw in a fight, but what Karl was doing to Pierre looked positively nasty. Pierre just stood there like this—” David held out his arms stiffly—“and when Karl stopped, he’d drawn blood.”
While David was outside, Anne took Charlotte away on her own, down into the orangery. The only light shone down through the glass doors from the Blue room and the gleaming twilight was eerie, full of the pattering echoes of fountains. They sat in wicker chairs under the orange trees and exotic plants, foliage massed across the glass roof in shades of grey.
There Anne told Charlotte what she had overheard; that the Frenchman claimed to have seen her with Karl in the garden. That everything Anne had witnessed had made her deeply suspicious of Karl.
“What, out of Pierre’s neck?” said Anne. “That’s how it looked. He practically had to carry Pierre out of the room afterwards.”
“It’s impossible!” cried Charlotte. “You must be mistaken, both of you!”
“There’s no need to get worked up about it, Sis,” said David, apparently surprised at her reaction.
“Oh, David,” said Anne, thinking, Hasn’t he guessed why she’s upset? “Let me tell you what I heard, and then we’ll all try to be calm and rational about it, shall we?”
Again she related the conversation, tactfully leaving out any reference to Charlotte. Then David added what he had heard.
“None of this makes sense,” he said. “But it sounds as if Pierre had some ill intention towards us and so, by implication, does Karl. The question is, what? God, it doesn’t bear thinking about. Suppose Maddy was attacked, and it was Pierre who attacked her… “
“There must be an explanation,” Charlotte said helplessly. “Karl was trying to protect us against Pierre.”
“And from the way it sounded, protect us so that he could do something unspeakable to us himself!” David stared at his fists, clenching and unclenching them. “Don’t forget, Karl claims this madman as his friend. I don’t pretend to understand what was going on, but until I do, I don’t want any member of my family going anywhere near Karl. God, I wish I’d taken Edward seriously!”
“I hope no one’s going to say the word ‘vampire’,” Anne said drily. “Edward must have come up with that as a metaphor of some kind for whatever he saw in Karl, but… “
Charlotte broke in, “But when he made that scene at Maddy’s party, you said it was because he was ill!”
“So I thought,” said David. “But since then he’s kept on warning me about Karl, and he is a very perceptive judge of people.”
“But you’re sitting there trying to prove Karl is some sort of perverted maniac! I don’t believe it. He would never hurt anyone.”
David was looking gravely at Charlotte, as if wondering why she was defending Karl so vehemently. Has the penny dropped at last? Anne thought. He said, “Anyway, they’ve both gone now.”
“Gone?” Charlotte looked horrified. “Where?”
“I’ve no idea, old thing. I went after them but they disappeared over the horizon in Karl’s motor car. Anybody’s guess if Karl even intends to come back.”
“No, he must!” Charlotte said, stricken.
David leaned forward and patted her entwined hands. “Charli, what is this? I couldn’t believe there was anything in this rumour about you and Karl, but I’m beginning to think I was wrong. No one’s going to be angry with you, but you must tell us the truth.”
“What do you want me to say? I love him.”
“Does Karl know?”
She nodded. “He feels the same for me.”
David sat back with a sigh. “Oh, Lord,” he murmured. “So that’s why you gave Henry the elbow. It’s got to stop, old girl, you see that, don’t you? Perhaps this is all a massive misunderstanding, but the point is that we don’t know for certain. We know nothing about
him at all, really, do we? Father took him on trust. God knows what risks you were taking, spending time alone with him.”
“But I’ve known him for ages. We work together. He’s always been so kind… He would never do anything to hurt me!” Charlotte’s voice was fierce, but there were tears in her eyes.
Anne looked at David and said, “Would you be a good sport and clear off for a while? I want to talk to Charli alone.”
“Of course.” He stood up, straightening his dinner jacket, looking solemnly at them. “You’re the best one to sort this out. I’m going to have a word with Maddy, see if she recognised Pierre. And then I’m going to keep a look-out for von Wultendorf. If he dares to come back after this, I’m going to make sure I sort this out, man to man.”
“Do be careful,” said Anne.
“I shan’t do anything rash. The thing is to behave as normally as possible, pretend nothing’s happened, and worm the truth out of him by diplomacy. If that fails, there’s always the gun room.”
“David!”
“Only joking. Look after my sister.”
He kissed Anne’s cheek and walked away to the stone steps that led up into the Blue room. When he had gone, Anne drew her chair close to Charlotte’s and put an arm round her shoulders.
“Goodness, you’re shaking. I didn’t realise quite how much this had upset you.”
“Those terrible things you and David said… I don’t believe them.”
“It’s not a matter of believing, we saw it with our own eyes. Karl isn’t what he seems; there’s something dangerous about him.”
Charlotte let out a single sob. Anne held her tighter. “I think I should get you a brandy. Oh, my dear, this must be awful for you. But look, if he isn’t quite the gentleman he appeared to be, isn’t it lucky you found out before it’s too late?”
Charlotte’s head drooped. Her hair fell forward in a frosted-gold curve, hiding her face. “It is too late.”
“You don’t mean… “
“I love him so desperately. I couldn’t help myself.”
“Oh my God,” said Anne. She was utterly shocked, and couldn’t hide it. She prided herself on her modern outlook, and heaven knew, her relationship with David was not as virtuous as it should have been—but that was different, they were at least engaged. The truth was, she simply couldn’t believe it of Charlotte. Not shy, naive Charlotte. Anne released a breath. Perhaps her naïveté was her downfall. “When did this happen?”
“After the musical evening,” Charlotte said wretchedly. “And both nights since. Swear you won’t tell anyone, it would be the end of everything.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it. I assume there’s no prospect of marriage or you wouldn’t be in such a state… ” Anne remembered the coldness in Karl’s eyes, and shuddered. “Oh, Charli, how could you be so foolish? I never realised just how dishonourable his intentions were!”
“It wasn’t foolish! You don’t know anything about it!”
“I know,” Anne said more gently. She drew Charlotte’s head on to her shoulder, stroked her hair as the tears came. “Didn’t I say, he’s the sort of man who breaks everyone’s heart?”
***
Charlotte sat alone in her room, watching the trees swaying against a sky of gleaming slate. She was so cold that she had stopped shivering and sat completely numb, leaning against the pane without the energy or inclination to warm herself. Rain drummed the glass like thousands of tiny fingernails.
Karl had not come back.
One moment she would think, But he’s bound to come to me, why shouldn’t he? As far as he’s concerned things are no different, he can’t know what David saw—can he? He’ll come back soon—then, oh Lord, what am I going to say to him? Do I ask him straight out what it all meant, do I pretend nothing happened? Should I be afraid? Oh no, I can’t bear to start being frightened of him again after all this, but I can’t help it, it’s happening…
The next moment, He won’t come back. I know he won’t. And the nervous leaping of her heart would swell and dissolve into the most overwhelming despair.
She felt alienated from everyone. She was in disgrace with her father and aunt; Madeleine was in some dark world where Charlotte could not reach her. Only Anne knew the worst of it, and although she had been sympathetic, she made no secret of her disapproval. David had already turned against Karl; how much worse it would be if he found out that his spotless, guileless sister had willingly let herself be seduced…
But what does it matter what they think? They could never understand, not in a thousand years…
It was like the time she had been feverish with flu and dreading meeting Karl, trying to avoid him… she laughed without mirth. Do I wish I’d never met him? No, oh no. She felt swamped by the same heavy, nightmarish atmosphere that she could not shake off, almost didn’t want to. And again, she had that fevered illusion of mountains in the sky, made of some purplish viscous substance that rolled over and over on itself. The clouds became tattered angels, ephemeral jet-black beings released from some netherworld to chase each other along the wind.
I’m going mad, thought Charlotte, choked by a terrible breathless awe. If Karl doesn’t come to me, I shall go mad…
But the hands of night swept on until she fell asleep where she sat, and Karl still did not return.
***
Once he had disposed of Pierre in a remote stretch of countryside, Karl drove half-way back to Parkland Hall, left the car in the edge of a wood, and entered the Crystal Ring.
The trees around him warped and melted to crystal spines that rustled against him like dry grass. A spiral of wind solidified, becoming a deep blue pathway that he could follow, leading above the trees to vast banks of bron2e cloud. He felt the same, yet everything looked different; even his own body had become a dark, attenuated thing, cloaked with lacy webs that were too delicate, too tattered to be wings. He stretched the thin hard limbs and ran on all fours, like a wolf.
The one thing Kristian would not expect him to do was to go to the Weisskalt on his own. He had never attempted it before. Only Kristian had the power to go there without succumbing to frozen sleep; only he could return, or bring other vampires back with him. So Kristian says… But Karl had no choice. He would not give in to Kristian, and he could not leave Ilona near death. The only answer was to rescue her himself.
The stolen warmth of Pierre’s blood filled him with fire, an energy that felt like flying. It could not last, but he prayed it would be enough to sustain him. He felt no apprehension, only single-minded intent, like the flight of an arrow.
The hillside beneath him steepened. He was in a gully, with the walls rising ever higher around him, like tidal waves of ink. He felt as if he were falling. The Crystal Ring was in constant movement, and sometimes it was necessary literally to run simply to remain in the same place. There were no maps of a region that was never still… except the map in a vampire’s mind, and the gleaming lines of magnetism.
The Crystal Ring was vast, each layer greater than the last, like the rings of an onion. Where, on the outermost skin that kissed the stars, did Ilona lie?
A thermal caught him, bore him like a magic carpet to a higher level. Glints of gold broke through the darkness. It seemed almost that he had become a wolf, running silent and alone through a pine forest. The first breath of cold touched him. And as he ran, he had time to think.
He had left Pierre seriously weakened, unable to enter the Crystal Ring until he had recovered his strength. In that state, he would be starving, dangerous; wherever Karl left him, Pierre would feed. But that was not Karl’s concern. Pierre could do whatever he liked—as long as the Nevilles were not harmed.
But Karl could not forget Pierre’s vicious words as he had bundled him out of the car.
“You think you can live two lives, human and vampire? You think you can live among them and not bring any harm to them?”
“I can. I have,” Karl had replied, soft as snow.
“You are not fooling anyo
ne except yourself, my friend.” The Frenchman’s face had been stretched taut, his eyes huge and burning with starvation. “As soon as I am strong again I shall come back. I want them now.” His face had receded like a lamp bobbing on water as Karl drove away, but the words followed, thin and piercing with hunger. “I want them.”
Karl had wanted nothing from Dr Neville except knowledge. Why prey upon and destroy the source of that knowledge when he could feed elsewhere, upon strangers in distant towns? It had seemed simple. It would have remained so, if not for Pierre’s interference…
But no, he could not blame Pierre or even Kristian himself. By entering the Nevilles’ household, by letting himself be captivated by them, Karl was the one who had put them in danger. He had drawn Pierre to them. Madeleine was suffering already. Perhaps he would draw Kristian too…
And then there was Charlotte…
Dear God, what am I doing to her? The tenderness he felt for her was genuine, but it was also self-deceiving. All he had done was to draw her into the vampiric circle of fascination, when the kind thing would have been to leave her alone. But there was something about her that obsessed him as no other human ever had. That was no excuse; it was selfishness. He had known exactly what would happen if they came to love each other, yet he had let it happen anyway.
Every time he made love to her, the craving to feed on her blood—to possess her completely—grew harder to resist. Yet the more he resisted, the stronger his need for her became. She was in greater danger every time and she didn’t even know… And the tension between his desire, and the knowledge that consummation of it would destroy her, was agony to him.
What kind of love is it, that can only destroy? He should leave, while the damage could be limited to a broken heart. She would forget me, eventually… and I should miss her forever. Everything Pierre said is true. If I stay, my nature will win. Yet now he could not leave. He had to remain with the Nevilles to protect them from Pierre.
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