“God, let me—” Pierre gasped. His blue eyes pure burning hunger, he moved behind the man, bent his face to the other side of his throat.
Charlotte stared at the hideous scene. Then she found herself running along the darkened road, sobbing for breath, out of her mind. The strange, dark swimming sensation was inside her, it could not be escaped. She felt she was flying and sinking, the feeling flooding her body like a drug; and at the same time she was alone on an infinite landscape, being drawn down into a warm darkness that she could not fight, almost did not wish to.
The feeling was unmistakably one of desire.
It only seemed a few moments before there was someone beside her, catching her, holding her up. But it was not Karl. It was Pierre. She recoiled from him, close to passing out with terror. His grip was inescapable and as he pulled her round she caught a glimpse of Karl still bonded to his victim.
“Don’t be an idiot, I’m not going to hurt you, much as I’d love to,” Pierre hissed. His lips shone dark with blood. With no strength left to resist, she let herself be guided back to the car.
She went with her eyes closed. God, let me wake up out of this dream.
Pierre stopped and she heard voices. At first they made no sense through the ringing of her ears, then she became aware that Karl and Pierre were arguing. “Of course we must take it with us!” said Pierre. “If we leave it here, they are going to realise you came this way.”
“I am not taking it in the car,” Karl replied adamantly. “Not with Charlotte there. We’ll have to leave it under the hedgerow and take the chance.”
She realised that they were talking about the policeman.
Pierre helped her into the back of the car; she felt the smoothness of the upholstery sliding against her clothes, but the leather smell made her feel sick. She did not watch what they were doing. Pierre’s voice, just outside the window, made her jump.
“Awful, this starvation, isn’t it?” For the first time a softer quality replaced the sneering tone, a hint of sympathy, a link between the two vampires that reminded her all the more that they were foreign beings of whom she knew so little. “You take someone and you simply cannot stop. Now you know how I felt, when you did it to me; fortunately it does wear off. Eventually.”
“I know,” said Karl. His voice went through her like an electric shock. “It’s not the first time Kristian has done this to me. You drive, Pierre.”
“Oh, must I? I want to sit in the back with Ophelia,” the Frenchman said gleefully. But Karl gave him a hard look and he obeyed.
The car door opened and Karl slid onto the seat beside Charlotte. But he remained in the opposite corner, almost as if he did not trust himself to touch her. It seemed astonishing that he looked as composed and tranquil as he always did; although why she had expected otherwise, she didn’t know.
“Are you all right?” he asked, as Pierre engaged the gear and set off at reckless speed.
“I don’t know.”
“You know that you have no cause to be frightened of me.”
“I wasn’t frightened,” she said tightly. “Please don’t ask me to explain. It’s too dreadful.”
He looked at her and she could not avoid his eyes; they were sad, brooding. “I know what it was, Charlotte.”
“You don’t. How could you know?”
“You felt something that you think is unholy and alien to your nature. You were less frightened of what was happening than of your own feelings. That was what you were running away from.”
She was horrified, because he was right. “Karl, please don’t speak of it!”
“It has to be faced. I don’t want you to be under any illusions about me.”
“I don’t think I am,” she said. “Not now.”
“Then you must look into your heart and face what is there. You don’t have to tell me, but you must do it.” He went on looking gravely at her. He offered no apology that she had been so upset, no words of consolation; but she understood and was glad. She wanted no comforting sophistry, only the truth.
“I don’t know what I feel. It’s all confusion, except for one thing… ” She shook her head. Surely it was impossible to go on loving him after what she had seen, after what he had told her about himself, yet she could not stop. The longer she stayed with him the worse it became; a complete infatuation with his every look, every gesture. And the idea of leaving him became more and more impossible to contemplate.
“And the one thing… is what?” he said.
“God, Karl, you don’t need to ask!”
“No,” he whispered. “Any more than you need to ask what the gift of your blood meant to me.” The hypnotic swaying of the car suspended them in a bubble of time, opening a dark communication between them which hardly needed expression in words. He said, “These bonds between us cannot easily be broken.”
After a few minutes he reached out and clasped her hand; and now her fingers were icy, while his were warm.
***
Anne had gone back to Parkland Hall at David’s insistence, but long before dawn she set out again for the manor. She went alone; Elizabeth and the Prof were dozing uneasily in the drawing room, Madeleine had gone to bed, and Newland—having considered it his duty to stay awake throughout the crisis—was red-eyed and largely indifferent to anyone’s welfare except Elizabeth’s. There was no one to stop her as she put on a pair of Wellington boots and David’s old trench coat, picked up another bundle of food, and drove off in Edward’s car.
It was five o’clock, the dreary time before dawn, when their hopes reached a nadir and the darkness massed within the trees seemed immovable. She parked some distance away and walked up the path until she found David, sitting on a folding stool under the scant cover of bushes.
“I’ve brought some more food for Charlotte,” she said. “Anything happening?”
“Not much. Ash sent a man to report back to the police station a while ago, that’s all.” David looked at her with a kind of disapproving concern. “You should have gone to bed, Anne.”
“I couldn’t sleep, any more than you can. Any sign of activity?”
“See for yourself,” he replied grimly. The upper window, which throughout the afternoon and evening had glimmered golden-red, was now blank as iron. “He’s let the fire go out.”
“Charlotte’s probably asleep.”
“I doubt it, and she must be freezing.”
“I expect they’ll light it again in the morning.”
“It is morning!” David said bitterly. “For heaven’s sake, how long does he think he can keep her in there?”
A policeman went to place the fresh bundle of food on the doorstep. He knocked at the door, but this time there was no response. Heavy wet twilight striated the sky, but the fire was not rekindled. David and Anne remained at their post, staring grimly at the sullen walls of the manor. More than ever it seemed an unbreachable fortress, and there was no sign of life inside. The windows remained dead and cold.
Inspector Ash came wading towards them through the wet leaves. “If I’m not much mistaken, Captain Neville, there’s no one in there.”
Anne’s heart turned cold.
“That’s impossible,” said David. “Your men have been watching every possible exit, haven’t they?”
“Of course.”
“Have they been asleep at their posts?”
“Certainly not, sir,” Ash said in a hard tone.
“Then they can’t possibly have left, can they?”
Anne said, “Could they have slipped away under cover of darkness?”
“No, Miss Saunders, we’ve been watching every inch of the place. If they’d come out of one of the doors or even a window, we’d have heard them as well as seen them.”
Quietly, she said, “It does look awfully deserted, all the same.”
“Well, I’m going to try the door again,” said David. He marched up the path, took the four steps in one stride and pounded hard on the dark, arched door. Anne followed. The
sound resonated and died away as they stood side by side, looking up at the ancient stone walls. Minutes went by, but nothing happened.
David stood back and yelled at the top of his lungs, “Von Wultendorf! For God’s sake, man, what are you playing at? Let me know my sister’s alive, at least! Light a candle, let her come to the window!”
As soon as he stopped shouting, the silence billowed down again like a stage curtain. The manor remained lifeless, impenetrable.
For the first time Anne saw real fear in David’s face. She shared that moment of helpless terror, heavy as stone and cold as the impassive, violet-streaked sky.
“Right,” he said. He took Anne’s arm and led her back to the bushes where Inspector Ash and two constables were waiting. “I think it’s time we made a move, Inspector.”
Ash looked dubious. “What did you have in mind, sir?”
“I am going to force one of the windows and go in.”
“You realise he could be setting a trap—maybe waiting for us to break in one way so he can escape by another?”
“Forewarned is forearmed, isn’t it, Inspector? Your men will be ready for him.”
“Well, you have a point, sir. We could wait until kingdom come, at this rate. It looks as if something’s happened… “
“I’ve got to know, one way or the other,” David said grimly. “Would you have one of your men escort my fiancée back to the Hall?”
“Will you please stop treating me like a child?” Anne said indignantly. “If you’re going in there, I’m coming with you!”
“Anne, it’s much too dangerous!” He looked dismayed by her stubbornness, but she spoke calmly and insistently.
“If Karl is still there, I think he’s more likely to negotiate with me and less likely to hurt me than you. Besides, if anything has happened to Charlotte, I should be there to look after her. I can try to act as a mediator—but if there has to be a fight, I can at least keep her out of it.”
“Anne, I can’t possibly expose you to the sort of danger Charlotte’s in. I absolutely forbid it.”
“I though you believe in equality for women!”
“I do—but this is different, old girl, you must see that.”
“I’m not your old girl,” she said thinly. “And it is not different. I’ve as much right as you to try to help Charlotte.” Anne felt resolute as steel, able to outface David because she had no choice. “When it comes to it, you don’t practise what you preach, do you? You had better have your ring back.”
She took off her left glove, slipped the ring off her finger, and held it out to him. He stared at the diamond glitter, flummoxed. Finally he burst out, “Good God, is it a crime for a man to try to protect his fiancée these days?”
“We should protect each other! We agreed that we would be equal partners in marriage. If you didn’t mean it, there’s no point in us getting married, is there?” Her throat ached as she spoke. She had sometimes imagined a real test of their relationship, never thought this moment would actually come. Yet she had to see it through.
“You’re being ridiculous!”
“If you think that of me, it only proves I’m doing the right thing. It’s not because you want to protect me, David; it’s because you don’t even begin to understand why I feel like this. I’m sorry, but I can’t live with that.”
“Anne—” David went on staring at her, hurt and angry. Then his expression softened into resignation, intense seriousness. “I do understand,” he said in a low voice. “And you’re quite right. Put the ring back on, please. All right, equal partners; but agree to one thing, will you? Let a couple of us go in through a window first; then if the coast’s clear, we’ll let you and the police in through the front door.”
Anne nodded. She accepted the ring, replaced it on her finger; then they smiled at each other, a touch grimly, and David kissed her cheek. “I do love you, old girl,” he whispered. “For God’s sake, be careful.”
“And you,” she said. As he turned away, she drew a deep breath of relief, and found herself starting to tremble.
David and the Inspector drew up a plan of action, decided to tackle a window that gave on to the hall. They broke a pane and opened it easily enough; but Anne watched with heart in mouth as the two of them, followed by a constable, scrambled through the embrasure. However quiet they are, Karl’s bound to know they’re there. Oh ‘Lord, David, don’t take any risks…
Long moments of silence. Then the front door creaked open, and the inspector beckoned the four men he had detailed to go in with Anne.
David stood in the hall, white-faced.
“There doesn’t seem to be anybody here,” he said faintly.
The darkness soared over them, barely touched by their torch beams, vast and full of menace; like the vaulted heights of a cathedral… or the dead grey sky over a battlefield.
“Have you searched the whole house?” Anne’s voice echoed.
“Just a brief look upstairs. We’ll do it more thoroughly now, but I can just tell, Anne; the place is deserted.”
“I feel it too,” she said.
Side by side they went up the stairs, followed by the Inspector, while his men explored the lower rooms. The solar, from which firelight had shone and then waned during the night, was empty and cold as ash. There were signs that Charlotte had been here; the workmen’s kettle on the grate, remains of food, clothes lying on the bed. While Ash moved slowly around the chamber—Looking for signs of blood? Anne wondered with a shudder—David went back on to the landing and shouted, “Charlotte! Von Wultendorf, if you’re here, for God’s sake show yourself!”
His plea fell into a well of silence.
They descended to the entrance hall again, where the other police reported that there was no sign of anyone, no clue as to how Karl and Charlotte might have escaped.
“How the hell could this have happened?” said David, his eyes glinting with frustration and pain.
“I don’t know, sir,” Ash said gravely. “There’s no way they could have slipped past us—unless there is another way out of the manor that we don’t know about. My men have kept the house under full observation at all times. It’s impossible that they could have emerged without being seen. We’d better search again, see if there’s anything we missed.”
No one said it, but Anne knew what they suspected. Karl’s killed Charlotte, concealed her body, and now he’s hiding somewhere…
She said, “I didn’t see Charlotte’s hat and coat upstairs. That must mean they’ve left somehow.”
“We haven’t had a proper look in the cellars yet, Miss Saunders,” Ash said grimly.
She and David waited on the cellar steps, watching the faint beams of light criss-crossing the darkness, throwing shadows of barrels, boxes and pillars into grotesque motion. They heard the frantic scuffling of creatures evading the light and intrusion of their domain. Anne saw a horrible vision of Charlotte lying dead somewhere amid the dust and debris, rats clambering over her… Stop it, you idiot!
“Nothing, sir,” Ash said eventually. “Nothing’s been disturbed down here. We can try again with more men and more powerful lights, but in all honesty I don’t think there’s anything to find.”
David visibly slumped with relief. “What next?” he said.
“I am going to initiate an extensive search of the grounds,” said the inspector, leading the disconsolate group up into the kitchen. “If Von Wultendorf’s escaped, he must be somewhere to be found. No one can vanish into thin air.”
“God,” whispered David. “I am going to find that fiend and I don’t care if they hang, draw and quarter me, I swear I’m going to kill him.”
Anne curled a steadying hand through his arm and he clasped it, plainly glad of her presence. Around them, the house remained brooding and insouciant, keeping its secrets.
* * *
Chapter Fourteen
Dreams and Chains
Charlotte slept for a time, woke feeling stale and exhausted, with the leather smell
and the car’s movement vibrating right through to her bones. Karl’s arm was round her, and a deep blue glow brushed the sky.
“Where are we?” she asked, sitting up. There were trees, roofs black against the horizon, the deep rumble of a train. She could see nothing ahead. Pierre was driving without headlights, not needing them with vampire sight.
“Just on the outskirts of London,” said Karl. “It’s almost seven o’clock.”
Charlotte yawned. “I feel worse for having slept,” she said. “Karl, have you been awake all this time? Do you know, I have never seen you sleep, not once.”
“We don’t sleep,” he said. “Not on earth, at least. Vampires don’t need the physical and mental oblivion that humans find in sleep, but we still need our own kind of rest—and we can only find that in the Crystal Ring.”
“You have to go there to sleep?”
“Yes. I hope I did not give the impression that the Crystal Ring is merely convenient. It’s essential to our existence. We have to take care, though; a vampire who lingers there too long may become torpid and unable to escape.”
“It sounds dangerous.”
“As with all things,” he said. “We find a balance.”
“But will it—will it harm you, not being able to rest?”
“Not greatly. It is fatiguing… and it makes the thirst worse.” He must have seen the apprehension on her face; he added, “It is nothing for you to worry about.”
“It wasn’t myself I was worried about,” she said quietly. She was remembering the escape of the previous night, the hunger with which Karl and Pierre had taken the policeman. And I watched. Does it mean I condoned it, that I’m an accomplice to murder?
Karl seemed to know what was in her mind. “I can say nothing to make this seem better than it is,” he said. “And it is horrifying.”
But I don’t feel as horrified as I think I should, she thought. That’s what I can’t face…
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