“Here for your man?” the countess asked with a smug smile, making the kind of face that Simone instinctively wanted to slap. But instead she did something else, she took a gamble. She pushed herself to her feet, wincing quietly. Everything hurt, but she had to push through it or she wouldn’t survive this.
“The house is burning down, you know,” Simone said gravely, doing her best to look the countess in the eyes. The countess laughed and tossed her golden hair over her pale shoulders.
“You lie,” she said arrogantly, and despite her childish features there was a fearsomeness to her that even Simone could acknowledge. She wouldn’t respect it though.
“You are trying to trick me. Pathetic human, why do you take me for a fool?” The countess went on, maintaining her distance from Simone and her rage. “I am not falling for any of this.”
“That’s a real shame,” Simone said, sighing and brushing a stray lock of hair from her forehead. “Because I’m not lying. If you don’t believe me then use your freaky vampire powers on me and get the same answer but in a different way.”
The countess scoffed, but Simone saw the flicker of fear that crossed her face; even vampires had some sort of loved ones, though love probably wasn’t the right word. “I would not waste my energy.”
Simone rolled her eyes and, to her surprise, began advancing on her. Nick was there, standing under the chandelier, and she passed him in silence. Why hadn’t he said anything? Why hadn’t he moved? “Whatever, the whole point is that the drawing room is on fire, and your dear sweet Richard Volkov was in the room when it went up in flames. He’s burning to a crisp right now, sizzling like a fat little blood sausage. I don’t know if fire kills you lot, but I’m pretty sure that you don’t like it. Most things don’t like being set on fire the way Volkov was.”
The countess sniffed, though from what Simone knew they didn’t need to breathe. It seemed that they should retain human traits that are rendered pointless by the change.
“I do not believe you,” the countess said, but her voice betrayed her by sounding uncertain. Now and then, her mask would slip. “And fire does not kill us. It merely wounds. All he needs is rest, and when he wakes he shall feed.”
“Oh, does he? And where does he rest?” Simone was up close to her now. “Where do you keep your coffins, eh? Since we’re getting along so well.”
“I would not tell you. Those boxes are filled with the earth of our homeland, they are precious to us.” The countess spoke with what seemed like actual passion. Simone smiled, satisfied with the response.
“I’m surprised that anything’s precious to you,” Simone said. “And it doesn’t matter, because I already know. So not only is your house about to burn down, but you’re going to lose your magical fucking dirt, okay?”
Her last words hung in the air, almost visible in their severity. Simone’s breathing seemed too loud in her own ears as she stared down at the countess, even though she had felt ready to break a long while back.
“Oh, by the way,” Simone said, adopting a falsely cheery demeanour. “Emily told me all about your lovely little Dicky Volkov, Madam. She said that he came to her in a dream, and do you know what he did?”
Simone folded her arms, and waited. The countess did not reply, only gripped at her skirts and pouted like Simone had scolded her for doing something bad. Simone watched her, and nodded.
“I think you’ve been hurt by men, haven’t you? So if you’ve been hurt by them, why not stop other women from being hurt or murdered? I think you know exactly what Dicky did to Emily in the dream. She’s still not sure if it’s real or not, that’s fucked up. Do you want that vampire bastard to rape Emily as well as turn her into one of you? Isn’t turning her enough?”
But the countess had no retort to the barrage of questions and accusations, no withering remark or snide comment to make. Instead, she silently turned and left the room, moving so lightly that she might have been floating beneath the skirts. Simone was left with Nick, stunned and uncertain if what had just happened was real, it was all so strange.
“I must have struck a nerve,” Simone said.
But she was gone, and Simone and Nick were safe for now. Speaking of which, Nick still hadn’t moved since she’d come in. She spun on her heel and went to him quickly, ignoring the pain in her leg from where Emily had bitten her. Close up, she could get a good look at him. He was facing her, but he seemed… blank. His eyes, which were usually warm and filled with light, were now cold and dark.
“What has she done to you? Simone demanded, grabbing his shoulders and shaking him with all the strength she had. “Come on Nick, it’s me! It’s Simone, your girlfriend. You told me you loved me, and I told you I loved you too, do you remember?”
There was no response. He looked at her, but he wasn’t really looking at her. She wanted to cry, but she didn’t. She had to keep going, because she was a warrior. She would not cower and back down. Her best friend was turning into a monster, had attacked her without a thought for their friendship, and Simone simply wasn’t having it any more.
“You might be in shock or something,” Simone said to Nick, though she wasn’t even sure that he could hear her at all. She was just trying to reassure herself; she knew that deep down. She had no idea what to do. She just looked at him through burgeoning tears, his sweet, handsome face grimly slackened and dull. She wanted him back more than anything.
Swallowing hard, she checked his neck. There were no marks; so he hadn’t been bitten. Perhaps she had put him under one of those weird glamour things that the Rev had gone on about at some point. She snapped her fingers in front of his eyes, but there was no reaction.
Despair was starting to threaten her bravery, because she loved Nick more than she loved herself and she was terrified that she had lost him forever. Out of desperation, with fresh tears slipping down her cheeks, she kissed Nick on the lips. It wasn’t passionate, but it was a kiss of love, honest and open and true. It was dumb and clichéd, Simone thought, but she couldn’t bear to think of never kissing him again. She had to do it one last time.
But then she felt it, a warmth that spread through her, warmth that radiated from the man whose lips were against hers. She felt Nick’s body relax against her, and then his arms were around her.
And he kissed her back.
Simone never knew that the rush of relief could knock you off your feet, but it did. Suddenly she had somehow slipped through Nick’s arms and ended up on the floor, dizzy and unsure of whether to laugh or puke. She wanted to laugh, of course, but she couldn’t trust any part of herself now.
But then Nick was crouching beside her, and she saw that it was him. She had already been crying a little, but now she began to sob. There was a smile on her face while she did it.
Nick was confused. “Babe, what happened? I was up against that… that woman, and I blacked out when I thought she was going to get me. And then I woke up to you kissing me, which is always nice, but one does have to question why this has happened exactly.”
Simone kept on crying. Nick put a hand on her back and rubbed it gently.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
Simone scoffed through her tears and tried to wipe the worst of it away with the hem of her shirt. It was only a slightly awkward process, but it did the job. She sniffed and began to get up. Nick immediately went to help, the kindness in him warming her like a favourite blanket when it’s cold outside. When she was up, they remained close together, his arm resting around her shoulders.
“I’ll be all right,” Simone said, sniffing and wiping her nose again, this time with the neck line, like she was past caring. Her eyes were red, but she was smiling a little. Smiling without crying, that was progress.
Nick pulled her a little closer, and Simone gladly leant into him, grateful for his sturdiness, his realness. She closed her eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. She opened her eyes again, and everything was the same, but she felt a little calmer nonetheless.
“Do you
have any idea what happened to me while I was out?” Nick asked tentatively. Simone understood why it would be worrying him, and so she told him what she knew. Nick’s brow wrinkled a little as the story unfolded in front of him, but other than that he remained quiet and placid. When Simone was done, he nodded once.
“Okay, so at least I’m not a vampire, right?” Nick said, attempting a joke before remembering Emily and feeling monumentally embarrassed by it. “Sorry. That was dickish of me.”
“Let’s just get back to the group,” Simone said abruptly, moving swiftly towards the doors. “Emily’s gone all bloody bitey and the rev went homicidal right in front of me. I left him to look after her and I’m not actually convinced that that was a good idea and I am actually very angry at myself.”
Nick had to jog to keep up with her; Simone had a long stride and he sometimes struggled to stay by her side when they were walking down the street together. Their footsteps echoed eerily in the cavernous ballroom, a place that was supposed to be for parties and fun, not blood and death. Simone wouldn’t look at Nick, and so he laced his fingers through hers. She let him do it, and when he squeezed her fingers with his, she squeezed back and smiled, staring straight ahead.
***
Emily was on fire. It was the only way to describe the pain that raged inside of her. Abrahms still had his arms locked around her upper body but she reckoned, through the haze of agony, that if she wriggled hard enough she could finally free herself and get what she needed. In a bizarre moment of clarity, she understood that she had bitten Simone, and tasted her blood from the puncture marks she’d made in her leg. Emily pointed her tongue to her canines and found them slightly sharper, a little keener than they used to be. Simone would have to be her first. A part of her, small but insistent and very annoying, told her that she shouldn’t. Simone is your best friend, a voice in her head told her. You can’t kill her boyfriend, what makes you think you can kill her?
Emily went for the arms, then stopped and pulled back, pushing the reverend back a few steps instead. She couldn’t bite Abrahms; strangely enough, even though she was so very hungry her instincts told her to wait. It was Simone she needed.
She concentrated hard, and tried to slip through his arms and go under them, like in games of limbo. She used to be quite good at those, she remembered, half delirious but somehow still standing. Yes, because she was small and slender, she could bend with a surprising ease, because Emily had never really been one for exercise, really. Simone used to joke that Emily was only good at it because she was closer to the ground than everyone else and had an unfair advantage. Guilt stabbed into her, shocking her out of her daydreaming. Her perception of time was confused, what had felt like minutes had only been seconds, and she could feel the beginnings of the reverend’s muscles weakening. Now was the time.
Emily raised up her arms as far as she could and clasped her hands together, fingers entwined and holding on tight.
Abrahms noticed and felt worry come over him. “Emily, what are you – “
Emily brought her elbow down with the force of both arms and hit Abrahms right in the solar plexus. The reverend couldn’t help but let go and double over. Clearly, he had underestimated her newfound strength. But that didn’t stop him from grabbing her foot so she fell. She got herself turned around quickly, but Abrahms threw himself on top of her, pinning her down for just a few more seconds. Breathlessly, he began reciting a prayer.
“Our Lord Jesus Christ, present us not with his risen power, enter into your body and spirit take from you all that harms and hinders you, and fill you with his healing and his peace. Amen.”
Emily screamed as if the words were physically hurting her. Maybe they were, maybe it was working. He repeated it, and again, and again. He said it over and over until Emily had passed out. It was Abrahms’ hope that she would wake up more like her old self. It was an untested theory, but it was all he had.
“Woah, okay.” Simone said. “Well, this is messed up”
Abrahms’ head snapped around to see Simone and Nick standing at the base of the stairs. The smoke was really starting to pour in now. Abrahms explained what happened in a shaking voice, but the two shook it off and said that they needed to go. Abrahms scrambled off Emily’s unconscious body and shuffled backwards before getting up. His knees knocked together pathetically, suddenly looking much, much older.
“It’s my hope that the curse has been repressed for a while, but I can’t make any promises. It is a very old prayer, one for healing.”
“None of that holy water and communion jazz?” Simone said as Nick went to pick up Emily. After some careful arranging, Nick got Emily onto his back and carried her down the stairs piggy-back style.
Abrahms gave a weak smile. “We’re way past that, wouldn’t you say?”
Simone nodded grimly. “Oh, I would say, Reverend.”
That’s when a strange, low roaring sound began to rise in the hall. Nick, not being stupid, immediately began heading for the door out of this fucked up place. Simone and Abrahms threw themselves down the stairs, with Simone leaping over the last five to gain some more ground. But Simone wasn’t going to the door; she turned and looked down the hall where the stairs split in two. The fire had begun to spread from the ballroom, a barrier of fire closing off the bottom of the hall.
“Shit,” Simone said. “What about the boxes in the cavern? Nick, did you burn them?”
Nick stopped for a moment and said, without turning around, “No. She knocked me out before I could do it. And I think, somehow, that the countess was stopping me from setting the boxes on fire. Now, I’m going to take Emily away from here.”
And it was at this point that Emily woke up, confused to be on Nick’s back.
“Hey, could you let me down?”
Nick jumped, surprised that she was suddenly awake. This seemed like a good opportunity for Emily to let go of his neck and force him to drop her. She landed on her feet with a grace that surprised her. Nick spun around to face her.
“Si, is she still bitey?” he asked hesitantly.
Emily frowned. “You don’t need to ask Simone. You could just ask me. No, I’m not ‘bitey’ at the moment. I don’t know how long this is going to last. I remember the reverend’s prayer. He’s healed me, for a time.”
Nick looked to Simone, who had been staring at her best friend for longer than was strictly necessary. She folded her arms and relaxed on one hip, peering at Emily through narrowed eyes. She hadn’t blinked once.
“Do you know what you did?”
Emily nodded. “I chose Nick, I know. But you don’t know the whole story, Si.”
“What is it you’re keeping from me then?” Simone said, hands on her hips. “We don’t have all night.”
“Nick gave me a signal; he wanted me to choose him-”
“Fucking what?” Simone said, and Emily stared at her indignantly. Abrahms gave a barely audible sigh, probably growing tired of the endless profanities coming from Simone’s mouth. Simone drew profanities from her arsenal the way someone draws water from a plentiful well.
“Simone, just shut up for a second and listen,” Emily said as patiently as she could manage. “His rope was frayed. He had a plan to get loose early and save me. That’s why I chose him, Si, Ok?”
Simone sought Nick. When their eyes locked, she asked: “Is it true?”
Nick sighed and rubbed at his face, squeezing his eyes shut and breaking the gaze. “Yes. It seemed like the right thing to do.”
There was a long pause, too long, given the fact that they were standing in a burning house. Then Simone gave a tight nod and that was that.
“So,” Emily said, trying to normalise things as much as one could in these circumstances. “We’re all here.”
“Not quite,” Abrahms said. “Where are our vampire friends?”
An unusual sound started up, growing louder all the time. It echoed about the hall, clear over the crackling of the flames.
A figure was staggeri
ng towards them, skin burnt to a crisp and smoking like meat on a barbeque. It looked about, the whites of its eyes clear in the shadows and growing ever closer. When its gaze came upon Simone, it began to shriek; a high pitched, distinctly female voice that tore through the spirit like an arrow.
It was the countess. It had to be.
“You!” she screamed, pointing a long, charred finger at Simone. The nails were black and crumbling. “You told me he was in the smoking room. I bore fire and pain to find him, and he wasn’t there. You lied to me, you little wretch, you lied!”
The words hung in the air. Simone felt the colour drain from her face and turned to Nick, who stared at her wide eyed, just as afraid and confused as she was. Meanwhile Emily took in what she had said and realised that Volkov was somewhere in the house, probably just as badly burnt as his companion. He would be after her, she was sure of it. She felt afraid, and she swore that she could hear his voice in her head, telling her that he was coming for her soon.
“Volkov’s around here, somewhere,” she announced, looking to the others and trying to appear strong, and most importantly on their side. “He must have slipped past us at some point when we were all distracted, or perhaps not all of us were here at the time. Either way we’re in serious trouble and need to do something immediately.”
Simone hadn’t yet broken eye contact with the burning body coming ever closer, long finger still pointing at her in vicious accusation. Emily went to her and slapped her on the back, not letting on that every part of her was aching. Her body was fighting against an invasion, and it was losing. There was so little time, it pained her.
“Come on Si,” Emily said, patting her friend a few more times before moving back a few steps. “We’ll deal with this together.”
Simone didn’t respond.
The burns that the countess bore for her weird, twisted love had slowed her down considerably, but she still approached, inevitable as the dawn, which was not long off now. Emily took a deep breath and stepped between them, forcing Simone to finally break eye contact.
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