“Oh, is it?” She sat up and glared at him. “Then why do you give the appearance of caring about nothing at all?”
“Vampires can detach themselves from emotion; we have to. But that doesn’t mean we do not feel anything. It is something that takes time to explain.”
“I don’t want to hear any more explanations! Why did you have to come here? You’ve disrupted our lives, stolen our hearts then revealed yourself to be a—a—”
“What about you, Charlotte?” he said softly. “There must be reasons why you put yourself so selflessly in Madeleine’s place. Am I the sole cause of your unhappiness?”
She did not answer him. She could not. She felt as if she had been shaken to pieces, and now none of her thoughts fitted and nothing made sense. Her family seemed so distant, like shadow puppets; she couldn’t even conjure their faces in her mind. And in her wretchedness she longed for comfort, a few calm words to bring her back to reality, arms to hold her. Someone to say, This is not so terrible after all. There is a reason; look, this is what you have missed… And she would find some scrap of logic to cling to, and she would say, Yes, I see now. How foolish I’ve been. Now I understand what to do…
But the awful, impossible thing was that she wanted that comfort from Karl. How could the one who had betrayed her heal the wounds? It was obscene; it would be like asking her murderer to hold her hand as she died.
And yet, her body tautened and ached with the longing to feel his arms around her. I must be evil, to feel this, she thought, curling up on her side, squeezing her eyes shut.
“You need to rest, Charlotte,” he said impassively. “Try to sleep.”
She sensed him standing over her. Her back tingled with the cold anticipation of his touch but he remained quiet, as if he realised there was nothing else he could say to her in this state. At last she could bear it no longer. She pushed her hair out of her eyes, looked up, and received another disorienting shock.
Karl had departed soundlessly and she was alone in the room.
***
When darkness fell, Karl went down into the hall and opened the front door.
Charlotte was asleep. He was glad that she had succumbed to exhaustion at last, found escape from the suffering that he had unwillingly inflicted on her. She had slept all afternoon, not even stirring when he had returned to the bedchamber to pull the coverlet over her.
Some time earlier, there had been a knock on the door. But he had waited until night to retrieve the bundle of clothes and food that had been left on the doorstep for Charlotte.
He could sense eyes on him; he could feel the breathing of mortals in the darkness. Trees loomed against the sky, and in the undergrowth that massed between them crouched a number of policemen and estate staff, fondly imagining that they were hidden.
Karl could see them all quite clearly.
They had been watching the house all day, he knew, there was nothing he could do to prevent that. David was behind some brambles with a man in tweeds, whom Karl recognised as Elizabeth’s head groom. He could hear them murmuring to each other.
“There he is!” David’s voice. Then the clean sharp dick of a revolver’s safety catch.
“You sure about this, sir?” The groom’s voice was a gruff whisper. “You know what Inspector Ash said—”
“Hang what Ash said,” David replied crisply. “Is he on his own? Damn, I can’t see a deuced thing. Daren’t risk it if my sister’s there… “
Karl stood in the doorway a moment, staring straight at them. They had placed the bundle on the very edge of the step, so he would have to step out of the house to reach it. Suddenly the night seemed to be spinning very slowly around him, like a grey cone drawing him upwards out of his body. He felt weary. The blood he had taken from Edward sustained him, but their heat in the darkness reminded him that he would need to feed again before long… and it would not be hard to entice any one of them inside.
But he would not. Not while Charlotte was there, even though he couldn’t recover his energy without blood.
He should let her go, take his chances with David’s makeshift army. He should never have taken her; it achieved nothing, it was as cruel and wrong as falling in love with her in the first place. Yet he could not let her go; it was the same fascination, the inability to leave a wound to heal on its own.
Kristian would kill me for this; revealing vampire secrets to humans, he thought. But whether I escape or am destroyed, will he be so good as to protect them from Pierre? Ah, David, you think this situation is so simple. Would you believe me if I told you otherwise?
Karl bent to pick up the bundle, moving unhurriedly. As he straightened up, he heard the groom saying, “Looks as if he’s on his own, sir. There’s a bit of a glow from the doorway and no one else.”
David’s clear strong voice rang out. “Stay exactly where you are, von Wultendorf! There is a gun pointing at your heart and if you move I won’t hesitate to use it.”
Karl replied, “Don’t be rash, David. The more difficult you make this for me, the more difficult you make it for Charlotte.”
“You’ve been warned! Don’t move!”
Karl ignored him. He had barely begun to turn away as a shot cracked the air. He actually saw the bullet winging towards him—a silver streak thrown out by a flower of fire—before it ripped into his shoulder. He staggered back against the door frame, swiftly recovered his balance. He had not thought David would actually shoot.
In a cold voice he called out, “This will do no good, David. You, also, have been warned.”
There was a vehement curse in the darkness, then the sound of other voices whispering. Policemen were wading through the undergrowth, one of them hissing furiously, “Captain Neville, what the hell d’you think you’re doing? If you want to put your sister’s life in danger or end up on a murder charge, you’re going the right way about it!”
Karl withdrew into the house and locked and barred the door.
***
There was a ghoul in Karl’s form haunting the feverish twilight of sleep. Charlotte saw men seizing him, murdering him while he cried out her name; then she saw him tearing their throats out, flinging their bodies aside like dummies. Now he was embracing her, kissing her hair and whispering endearments; now mocking her, eyes shining like red glass and his mouth twisted in a cruel grin. The images rained onto her mind like hot coals until she tore herself up and out of sleep like an arrow from a wound.
Still the same alien room, heavy with age and shadows. But something had changed… the window was an oblong of blackness. Night had fallen, but the fire burned brightly and Karl sat in front of the grate with his back to her.
At the sight of him her heart lurched and all her misery came streaming back. Her head ached, her mouth was dry and sticky. Her stomach was churning so with hunger that she felt sick. In the traumas of the past few days she had eaten next to nothing, and even the previous day seemed a lifetime ago.
“How long have I been asleep?” she said, leaning up on her elbows.
“All day,” he replied, looking round. “It is eight o’clock. You must have been exhausted.”
She yawned deeply. “I still am. I feel terrible.”
“You will feel better after something to eat and drink. Your family have brought some food for you.” She followed his gaze and saw a plate of bread, ham and cheese on the table of carved black oak beside the bed. Her stomach turned over. “I don’t think I could eat anything.”
“Have some tea, at least.” He came to the bed and placed a cup in her hands. She saw a kettle and teapot on the grate. “You must learn to look after yourself, Charlotte. You have no instinct for self-preservation.”
As she sipped the tea, he sat on the edge of the bed and watched her. She could sense the radiance of his gaze and she knew if she looked up, she would see the same warmth and tranquillity that had always captivated her… so she would not let it happen. He won’t deceive me again. She kept her eyes lowered, feeling uneasy and closed in
on herself, like those awful days when she had first known him. Yet her wretchedness and anger were stronger than her fear of him, and those old feelings could never regain a hold on her. Too much had happened.
When she had finished, he took the cup from her and placed the plate on her lap. “I insist that you try to eat,” he said kindly, and went to pour her some more tea.
She nibbled at a piece of bread and butter, instantly felt her appetite return. “Aren’t you going to have anything?” she said, then almost choked. “Oh God. I keep forgetting.”
He did not reply, only sat down in the chair beside her with a wry twist to his lips.
Charlotte said, ” I remember Sally complaining that you were always leaving cold cups of tea. Now I know why. It would almost be funny, if it wasn’t… “
Still he did not speak. She saw the disturbing paleness and stillness of him—still beautiful, however eerie—and a splinter of dread went through her. She ate rapidly, letting the food blot out her thoughts. After a minute or two he stood up.
“I shall heat some water for you, so that you can bathe and change, if you wish.”
“Yes… Thank you,” she murmured.
While he was out of the room, she got up and began to shake out the assortment of clothes that Aunt Elizabeth—she presumed—had packed for her. God, what must they be thinking? She froze. I wonder what’s happening at the Hall? Poor father…
When Karl came back, she asked anxiously, “Karl, is—is anyone watching the house?”
He raised his right hand to his left shoulder and absently fingered a tear in his shirt. “Yes,” he said drily. “Your brother and half the police force are keeping a vigil. Did you think everyone had deserted you?”
She bit her lip. The question was too close to answer. “This is awful.”
“It’s worse than you think.”
“What do you mean?”
He sighed. “I would like to explain. There is much I would like to tell you… if we could speak freely, without this barrier of rancour and fear between us. But I don’t know whether it is possible.”
He looked questioningly at her.
“Perhaps,” she said. “If I felt I could trust you, or believe a word you said.”
“You obviously think it unlikely. But we could try.”
“I suppose it would pass the time,” she said, hating the cynicism she felt. But she noticed that his hand was still pressed to his shoulder, and it struck her he was in pain. “Karl, is something wrong with your shoulder?”
“Your brother tried to shoot me.”
Cold astonishment rippled through her, and her reaction was automatic. “Oh, no! Let me see.”
“If you wish.”
He sat down on the bed and she sat next to him, saying, “How could he do this? He might have killed you!” She began to unbutton the shirt and fold back the collar, but as she did so he began to laugh. She snatched her hands away and glared at him.
“Forgive me, beloved. I am not mocking you. It just seemed ironic that you should be concerned for me.” He shook his head sadly. “But it is not funny at all, that someone of your sweet nature should have to endure this.”
Then he pulled back the shirt to reveal the pale smooth flesh of his shoulder. There was no blood, only a white puckered mark—and on his back, a similar one over the shoulder blade.
“It looks as if the bullet went straight through,” she half-whispered. “And it’s already healed. Does it hurt?”
“A little. We are quite easy to hurt, very difficult to destroy. Bullets do not kill us, not even silver ones.”
Tentatively she reached out and touched the scar. It seemed to be fading even as she looked at it. His skin felt so familiar under her fingers and recent memories went through the centre of her like hot wax, unbidden and overwhelming.
Karl caught her wrist and they stared at each other. Then he said, “Go and bathe, before the water cools down.”
She fled the room, burning with shame at the way her body was betraying her—as if it were a separate entity, completely disconnected from her mental anguish.
The bathroom was only half-finished; the new fittings shiny white and clinical, the walls and floor bare. She washed, changed and brushed her hair as swiftly as she could, shivering with nerves as she hurried through the task. Yet when she had finished she felt better. Refreshed.
No amount of panic or hand-wringing is going to make this better, she thought. I might as well try to be calm. “Be a scientist, ” that’s what Father used to tell me, when I was upset about something. “Don’t react; think.” I hope he’s following his own advice.
Karl was seated in a high-backed chair by the fire when she returned, looking as relaxed as a cat. But his eyes had that distracted look she had sometimes seen before, which made her feel there was a depthless chasm between his life and hers.
“I refuse to be frightened any more,” she said, sitting opposite in a chair whose tapestry seat was faded with age. “I’ve decided that the worst you can do is kill me, and that you won’t do it while I am useful to you.”
“I don’t blame you for sounding so bitter,” he said quietly.
“Would you rather I was hysterical? I can’t keep it up, it’s such a waste of energy.”
“I think in the circumstances you have shown a great deal of courage, Charlotte.”
“Is that a compliment, coming from someone who’s making it necessary for me to be brave? And you’re so calm all the time. I don’t think anything could upset you.”
“There you are wrong. I am not in the habit of showing my feelings, that is all; some find it infuriating, I know.”
“Is that why you do it?”
“No. It may be a Viennese trait,” said Karl. “It is also a waste of energy to alter one’s character to please others.”
She said, “But it only proves what I feared. What I see in your eyes and what you are actually thinking are quite different things.” He was looking at the fire, so she was able to study the exquisite lines of his face. “I thought I saw love; you were thinking of blood.”
“Not all the time. On the contrary, when I was with you it was often the last thing on my mind. Anyway, they are not so different.” He glanced at her, a brief fiery gleam beneath the lowered lids. “But a vampire trying to explain himself to a human is like a wolf trying to explain himself to a lamb. Unthinkable, really. I don’t know why I thought I must act coldly to make you hate me; it is inevitable, whatever I do. All the same, Charlotte, if you do hate me it will cause me more distress than I can say.”
“Why? You made it perfectly clear earlier that you were only using me! Don’t start pretending to care about me again, unless you want to destroy me completely.”
“No pretence now.” He leaned forward a little, and the intensity of his voice transfixed her. “Vampires do not disclose their secrets to humans. It simply is not done. You express doubt that you can trust me, but I also have to feel absolute trust in you; and to prove that I do, I shall tell you that if you want to destroy me, you need not trouble yourself with stakes or fire. Just cut off my head.”
“Oh!” The starkness of the image shocked her. A slight smile softened his lips. “I am going to be completely honest with you, Charlotte—but you must promise to do the same. Isn’t that fair?”
“Of course.”
“And I will answer your questions, if you answer mine. So, I shall ask you again why you offered yourself in Maddy’s place.”
“Why—”
“No, Charlotte. Answer me.”
She paused, one hand on her throat. It was instinct, to feel ashamed of her motives, to try to gloss over them so that no one should see what wickedness lay inside her. But Karl made all those defences seem pointless and she thought, Yes, why not the real reasons? What harm can it do to tell him?
“It wasn’t bravery,” she said slowly. “It was despair. I was in disgrace with everyone. My aunt had guessed about us, Maddy hated me for it. Perhaps you can’t unde
rstand why these things matter, but they do. I put myself in Maddy’s place without thinking, because I couldn’t bear to see her so afraid… but I suppose the truth is, I resented you taking her. It sounds wicked and perverted, I don’t know how to explain… I was the one who needed to know the truth about you, not her! So you see, I wasn’t being virtuous, just selfish.”
She breathed out as she finished, feeling her tension fade a little.
“Well, no more selfish than me,” he said drily. “Strange you should have resented it; it was hardly an act of love. Yet I do understand you. I have to confess that with Madeleine, this would have been easier.”
“Easier?” Charlotte exclaimed. “In what way?”
“She is simpler than you. Bolder, because she has less imagination; but then more afraid, because she does not possess an analytical mind to unravel complexities. I doubt that she would have sat questioning me. Her terror would have destroyed her infatuation, but she is also resilient enough to have recovered afterwards. However… it was self-delusion to tell myself that. I think I knew you would put yourself in her place; I think I almost wanted to see if you would.”
“Oh, God.”
“And you did. And I was sorry… because I knew we would both suffer for it. I thought the best thing was to destroy your love with the harsh truth, but that was another delusion. I did not really need a hostage, Charlotte. I took you because it was my last chance to talk to you.”
Charlotte laughed, stopped before it turned to tears. “Dear God. You kill Edward, then you want to explain.”
“Yet you said you wished to listen, however bad it was.”
“And I still do. I can bear this if I can understand it.”
“As I said, my attack on your friend was unplanned and I regret it.” Karl folded his long, fine hands and looked down at them as he spoke. “There are some vampires who think it is fun to make their victims fall in love with them, and you’ve seen how very easy it is for us to do that. But it is a singularly cruel form of seduction and betrayal that I have never indulged in. As I said, only strangers need fear my footfall behind them in the dark—if they hear it. When I came to your father, I had not the remotest intention of touching any of you.”
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