“Devil,” she whispered. “I loved you.”
“How could it be love, when you did not know my real nature? It is a characteristic of vampires to appear enthralling to humans. What you felt for me is only what Madeleine and Elizabeth felt also; a kind of bewitchment.” He sat very still as he spoke, and more than ever she had the sense of him as an alien creature, something beyond her comprehension. Misery and anger rushed up, and bitter resentment.
“It’s not true. You’re saying these things to torture me!”
Karl blinked impassively. “If you think I should wish to torture you, surely it proves that what I am saying is true.”
“I suppose you seduced my sister and aunt too, made them believe they meant something to you.”
“No. I have never touched either of them.”
He did not elaborate, and somehow this statement made the pain worse. She was sinking in confusion. “But you were going to abduct Maddy! Would you have fed on her as you did on Edward, killed David if he’d tried to stop you?”
“I hope it would not have been necessary. But I am quite merciless, when I have to be.”
She sat rigid for a few moments. Everything, from their first meeting to this moment, was in her mind at once; every word and look he had given her, all the closeness they had shared; and now this smashed and red-stained mess, and the unbearable pain… “Why did you bother to control it?” she cried. “Why didn’t you just kill me? Why don’t you do it now?”
She flung herself at him, pulled at his shirt-sleeve—but when he turned to look at her, she froze. That glowing stillness, that beauty so heartrending it could only be evil; suddenly she saw so clearly what he was that terror sheeted through her like flame.
A line between life and death.
The next she knew she was off the bed and running to the door, wild with the need to escape.
Down the stairs she rushed, only half-aware of the treads slapping painfully against her stockinged soles. In the hall the fire had waned and the lofty desolation seemed to swallow her. She struggled with the front door, found it locked, spun round in a panic and headed for the kitchen. Stumbling over the piles of rubble that the workmen had made, she fought uselessly to open the outside door. Then with no clear idea of where she was going she headed for the cellar.
Blindly she ran across the crypt-like space—where she had seen the shadow-cat, a lifetime ago—bruising her feet, stumbling against the barrels, until she collided with a wall.
The stone was slick with damp and it exhaled the mustiness of age and disuse. She felt it sucking the heat out of her body through the thin material of her skirt and sweater, yet she did not move; she flattened herself against the harsh surface, letting the cold leech away her panic and draw her down into despairing equilibrium.
There were voices whispering in the darkness. She thought something brushed her legs, a cat—or a subterranean draught that seemed to breathe in and out like a living thing. It could not make her any more afraid than she already was. It simply seemed an extension of the blackness that was inside her and she gave herself up to it, almost pleading with it.
“Help me,” she mouthed silently. “God help me.” She wanted to weep but she could not; tears contained healing and there was nothing to repair the ruin of her soul. After a few moments, she heard the echo of footsteps.
***
“Edward Lees, yes… I see. Thank you.” George Neville replaced the mouthpiece on its stalk and turned to the others. “The hospital say he has been given a blood transfusion and is resting.”
“But will he live?” David said in agitation.
“It’s too soon to say.” Dr Neville sank down into an armchair, grey-faced. “They’re doing their best.”
Anne had joined Elizabeth, Madeleine and the two men in the main drawing room. Shock lay heavy on them. They were seated around like waxworks, isolated yet bound together by tension and dread. A tall police inspector with silver-streaked black hair stood quietly in front of the fireplace. Only David had any life about him, and his restless roaming about the room was beginning to drive Anne mad.
“Charlotte was so brave,” said Madeleine. She was curled up small in a chair, her face streaked with tears. “It would have been me. And I was so hateful to her this morning, I shall never forgive myself.”
“But why the devil did you do it?” her father said angrily. “Why put yourself and her in such danger?”
“I thought I was doing the right thing!” Madeleine cried. “I thought it was all a mistake, that Karl couldn’t have… Don’t shout at me, Father, don’t you think I feel bad enough, realising what he’s really like?” Her voice trailed off into sobs.
“It’s not your fault, Maddy,” David said soothingly. “If it’s anyone’s, it’s mine. God, if only I’d listened to Edward at the very beginning! I knew there was something wrong about Karl, I knew and I totally failed to protect my sisters!” He gave Anne a heartfelt glance. “Lord, it could have been any one of you.”
George Neville leaned forward and put his head in his hands. “For heaven’s sake don’t blame yourself, David. I’m the one who took him on. He seemed so plausible—to think of the times I left Charlotte alone with him!” He sat back, pressing a handkerchief to his shiny forehead. “If I could turn back time—if any harm comes to her—” He broke off. Anne’s heart ached for him. He so rarely showed his emotions.
“This is all too incredible,” Elizabeth said sharply. She stubbed out a half-smoked cigarette in a glass ashtray, then promptly lit another. “Has everyone in this family gone completely mad? There are no such things as—” She stopped, to Anne’s relief. They had all agreed not to say the word “vampire” in the hearing of the police. If they portrayed Karl as anything more than a dangerous criminal, they risked branding themselves as cranks—and having Charlotte’s plight taken less seriously.
“It doesn’t matter what we call him,” said David. “What he’s done is real enough.”
“Unbelievable,” Elizabeth said contemptuously. But she sat forward over her knees, her long back as taut and gaunt as a dancer’s. The ashtray beside her was full of long white stubs.
“I suppose you’d prefer it if he had taken me,” said Madeleine.
“How can you say that?” gasped Dr Neville.
“Father, it’s no secret that you’ve always loved Charlotte best, because she’s perfect and I’m not!”
“Do stop it, dear,” said Elizabeth. “We’re all upset and carrying on like that won’t help anyone. I should have realised about Karl. God knows, I was never easy on Charlotte—but I did it for her own good. It’s a hard world and she had to learn how to live in it. I never meant it maliciously, she knows that.” And she ground out the new cigarette as if trying to crush it to death.
“At least Edward’s hanging on,” David sighed. He sat down on the arm of Madeleine’s chair and hugged her. “But if anything happens to him or Charlotte, I shall not be answerable for what happens to Karl von Wultendorf.”
“It’s in our hands now, sir,” said the inspector, implying, Anne thought, “So don’t consider taking it into your own.”
“We have the house surrounded and there is no way he can get out without us knowing.”
“Just be damned careful,” Dr Neville said. “If he sees a bevy of policemen round the house, Lord knows what he might do.”
The inspector replied in a level voice, “We shall do nothing to endanger your daughter’s life, sir, believe me.”
“We know that, Inspector Ash,” said David. “Right. Now I know how Edward is, I’m going back up to the manor. I won’t rest until Charlotte’s free. Shall we go?” He indicated for Inspector Ash to precede him to the door, nodding to Anne as he left. Anne didn’t follow him. They had argued earlier, because David had insisted it was too dangerous. So much for the modern man, she thought. I’ll wait a while and join him later, then he won’t be able to stop me. I’m damned if I’ll sit about chainsmoking and blaming myself when I could be
doing something to help Charli! If only they knew how they all sounded! Is this what it takes to make them realise they love Charli after all?
But Madeleine looked so wretched, Anne felt only sympathy for her. She went and knelt by Madeleine’s chair and said, “How are you bearing up?”
Elizabeth and Dr Neville were in the doorway, talking to Newland. Madeleine glanced at them and then down at Anne, eyes brimming with some unspoken burden. “I saw such awful things when I was ill, Anne. I thought I was in a tomb, that I was actually dead.”
Anne was taken aback. “It must have been a nightmare.”
“But I was wide awake! I was seeing things. I know that now.”
“You must have been feverish.”
“I don’t know. I thought it was real. I had this idea that only Karl could save me. He was all I could think about. I saw his eyes everywhere. The frightening, the really frightening thing is that I felt as if I were perfectly sane. I thought I knew what I was doing. In the manor, I thought that if I helped Karl, he would love me. When he grabbed my wrist—” she took Anne’s wrist, unconsciously digging in her fingernails—“I suddenly saw what he was. He’d never loved me. He couldn’t, because he was evil. It was as if someone had taken a blindfold off me. Am I making any sense?”
“I think so.”
“Don’t humour me. I don’t know if I’m crazy or not. But I knew just how poor Edward must have felt when he made such a fuss at my party.” Her mouth turned down at the corners and she wept noiselessly. “I’ve been so stupid and cruel to Charlotte… because she’s under his spell too and it’s not her fault.”
***
“Charlotte.” Karl’s voice struck echoes from the stone. “Please come out of here. It’s cold. I am not going to harm you.”
She hugged herself, shivering. “What will happen to me?”
“Nothing,” he said. “As soon as I can I shall let you go. You will return to your life in Cambridge and forget me.”
She raised her head in amazement, straining her eyes to see him in the darkness. “Forget?” she gasped. “What kind of a life have I to go back to? You think you can make me fall in love with you—then reveal yourself as some kind of fiend, and expect me just to forget about it?”
“Our relationship had to end, Charlotte.” His voice, utterly emotionless, chilled her. “The truth is, I did not know how to end it. I never wanted this to happen. Given a choice, I would simply have gone away quietly.”
“You would have left me, and I would never have known why?”
“Exactly so. And you would have been unhappy for a time, but at least you would not have gone through this misery. However, now it has happened, at least you will understand why we could not stay together. And, of course, you will not want to. Remember me with hatred, if you must—and I am sure you will—but go on living. It is the only way you will get over it.”
The cold hit her then, and her teeth began to chatter. “You want me to get over it? But why should you care, why the hell should you care? Don’t tell me you feel guilty! Of all the unbelievable things you have told me, that is one too many.” The bitterness was a loathsome emotion. She added miserably, “I don’t hate you, I haven’t the spirit.”
“You will, in time.”
“No! How can I make you see? This is not something I can get over, Karl. It doesn’t matter what you say or do, I shall never get over it! Don’t you understand that?”
When he fell silent in the darkness, it was as if he wasn’t there at all. The sudden emptiness wrenched her soul. Then she heard him take a slow, soft breath, and he said, “Oh, Charlotte, I can’t go on with this.”
There was pain in his voice. For the first time, real pain.
She froze. What could the change in him mean, except danger? She felt him move towards her but she was pinned against the wall, unable to move away. She closed her eyes, felt his hands on her shoulders and waited for the unimaginable stab of knives in her neck; but he simply put his arms around her, drew her away from the wall and hugged her.
She could not return the embrace. Her heart was breaking. “Don’t touch me,” she whispered.
He let her go; it was like being dropped in mid-air. Then she felt his hand, very light and impersonal, on her elbow. “Come back to the fire,” he said. “We must talk.” She let him lead her across the cellar and up towards the hazy smear of light from the kitchen. It was all she could do to walk. Once in the solar she suffered him to wrap his coat round her and sit her by the fire, but all the time she stared at the flames and did not look at him. He sat on the floor, one knee drawn up and his arms resting loosely on it, the other long slim leg stretched out.
“We will not be here for long,” he said. “Until then I shall make sure you are warm and well looked after.” He seemed different again; gentle, considerate, as he had used to be. But that, far more than his coldness, made her want to cry.
“Why are you being kind to me now?” she said thinly. “I don’t know what you want.”
“I don’t want you to be in this pain.” His voice was calm, but it had lost its impersonal edge. “It seemed the simplest thing to make you loathe me completely. I thought that if I was cruel enough, any remaining love you had for me would die. With Madeleine, it would have worked, but… ” He paused. “With you, Charlotte, I can’t keep up the pretence. I cannot bear to put you through such misery… not after we have been so much to each other.”
She gazed fixedly at the network of logs, black against the scarlet embers. “Are you saying that I meant something to you after all?”
“Yes.”
“So, those awful things you said to me earlier were also lies, were they? How shall I know when you start telling the truth?”
“They were harsh things to say, I know, and I chose not to contradict certain assumptions you made. But I was not lying. The truth is horrible, Charlotte, but it is also much more complicated that you know.”
She rubbed her forehead. The skin was ridged with tension. True love turned out to be demonic deceit. After this she could never love, never trust again.
“It’s vile,” she whispered.
“I know,” he said. “I can’t ask you to forgive me. I rarely feel any need to explain my actions, and I have never before spoken about these things to a human. But I want to talk to you; not to excuse myself, only so that you may understand a little better—if you will listen to what I have to say.”
She allowed herself to meet his eyes briefly, and for an unnerving moment she felt captivated by the jewelled amber irises, just as she had been the first time they were alone. She fought the feeling off.
“But the things you did! You terrified Maddy and you didn’t care!”
“Charlotte, I took a hostage to keep them away from me, because I do not want to hurt them. It’s as much to protect them as myself.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“Liebling,” he sighed, suddenly sounding weary, “do you really think I wish you harm?”
“I don’t know.”
“Well, I do not. But your family think otherwise, and it is what they believe that will preserve them—and me.”
“You’re happy to let them think I’m in danger of dying? That’s cruel, too.”
“I don’t deny it.”
“Why couldn’t you have just run away?” she said savagely.
He half-smiled. “Or turned into a bat?”
She stared at him. “You can’t… Do you think this is funny?”
“No, I cannot turn into a bat, nor a wolf, nor a cloud of mist,” he said gravely. “Nothing so convenient. Yet vampires can vanish in a way that is perhaps even less believable. I could not, however, because I was too weak from the fight. If I had forced my way through David’s men, I might have killed some of them or they might have overpowered me; neither prospect was desirable.”
“But when you recover your strength, you will be able to—vanish?”
“I hope so. But it may take days, or weeks if I am
unlucky.”
“Don’t you need to feed to get your strength back?”
“Yes.”
“But there’s only me… “
“You have no need to fear me, Charlotte,” he sighed. “I am not going to touch you. The blood I took from your poor friend will sustain me for quite some time.”
“What then?”
“I shall have to leave here, of course. And I shall have to take you with me, to prevent your valiant brother from following me. But once I know he cannot find me I shall release you.”
“And until then, I am your prisoner,” she said, staring at her hands.
“Would you rather it had been your sister?” The question flashed quick and sharp into the air and hung there, unanswered.
Eventually she said, “I remain your hostage while it suits you, then you discard me and I never see you again.”
“Surely you would not want to see me again?”
“Don’t twist my words! You’re the most callous person I’ve ever met!”
“I am sorry you feel that,” he said, so gently that his voice seemed to melt right through her. “However cruel I seem, I feel anything but callous towards you. But you didn’t answer my question.”
For a brief, shocking moment, all the passion she had felt for him rushed back and turned as swiftly to a wave of anguish. “Don’t, Karl. You’re confusing me. First you torment me, then you apologise, then you go on uttering threats against my family in the same gentle tone—What am I supposed to think?”
“You have every right to be angry.” His composure made her more so.
“Angry is hardly the word for what I feel! After—after that first night we spent together, you said our love could only end in pain. Is this what you meant?”
“But you said, ‘The feeling is worth the pain, whatever it is.’ “
At that she tore herself out of the chair—away from his eyes—but there was nowhere to go. She sat on the bed, confused and trembling.
“That was unfair of me,” said Karl. “To answer your question, no, this is not what I meant, because I didn’t know this was going to happen. What I did mean is something worse, which perhaps you will come to understand. But it is all a facet of the same thing—and it is as painful for me as it is for you.”
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