Dance Until Dawn (3 page)

The sheer arrogance of the man astounded me almost more than his in-depth knowledge of my life.

‘Now I know you’re insane,’ I spat.

‘A trifle optimistic I grant you. But insane? No.’

‘What are you going to do to me?’

I felt a rush of cool air, and found myself pinned to the wall so suddenly, and with such force, that my head smacked into it. I saw stars for a split second. His strong hands held my arms above my head and, once again, I hadn’t seen him move.

I stifled a panicky scream of terror. He regarded me almost lazily as he traced one elegant finger softly down my cheek, and brought it to rest against my lips, his other hand easily keeping both of mine captive. My face tingled where he had touched it – ice and fire at the same time. He prised my mouth open with his finger and ran it lightly over my canine teeth. His breath was cool on my face as he spoke in quiet even tones. ‘Have you not felt the change in your teeth child? Have you not ran your tongue over those oh-so-delicate points?’

I swallowed the hysteria rising in my throat. I would not let him see how afraid I was.

I would not
. I chose not to answer his question, either. I merely stared defiantly into his eyes.

He leaned in even nearer, and spoke softly, his lips very close to mine. Almost touching, but not quite.

His words sounded strangely loud. ‘If my main objective was merely to have sex with you, would I not have taken my pleasure many times already?’

Still I didn’t answer. His close proximity was having a strange effect on me. His lips were close enough to kiss and … I … wanted to. My eyes widened at the thought and he swiftly drew back, just far enough away so he could see my eyes. His look was mocking now.

‘What do you think you could ever do to stop me taking whatever I want?’ He released me abruptly, and I let out a shaky breath as he moved away across the room.

The silence between us became almost tangible but he didn’t seem inclined to break it. Reaching into his coat pocket, he brought out the silver phial, and turned it slowly in his hands, almost reverently.

‘I won’t drink blood again, and you can’t make me,’ I said quickly.

I couldn’t bear the thought of attempting to swallow the repellent stuff again.

Will shot me a serious look. ‘I should not have to make you. You should yearn to drink blood, in fact, your very essence should be filled with desire for the taste.’

‘Well it isn’t.’ I yelled at him in agony and sheer frustration, clutching my stomach as the pain seared through it again. ‘You just want me dead.’

Will came closer again and stared down at me. ‘If I wanted you truly dead, little fledgling, trust me on this, you would be very dead. Although you are indeed dead to the human world, you still exist, as do I. But in order to
remain
in existence you have to feed.’

‘I won’t drink blood!’ I almost screamed the words in despair. ‘I just
can’t
.’

Will continued to stare down at me, his arms folded. ‘If you are really adamant that you will not feed tonight, then I should warn you that you will feel even worse tomorrow,’ he said.

‘So what?’ I asked.

‘So you must at least try to take some blood. I am afraid it is the only way.’

I gripped the edge of the bed, and stared at my trainers. They looked so normal. How could anything look that normal when nothing would ever be the same again? Will was still and quiet, as he observed me intently. I could feel his eyes on me even though I wasn’t looking at him. I pressed my hands to my stomach as the pain started up again.

‘If you would permit me to simply hold you, the pain will lessen,’ said Will.

I looked up at him in surprise. ‘I’d rather have the pain,’ I ground out through gritted teeth.

He didn’t try to force the issue, and I felt glad he didn’t. If he was in any way put out by my refusal, it certainly didn’t show. He merely shrugged and walked to the other side of the room. Lighting another cigarette, he watched me with his eyes slightly narrowed, as though his thoughts were too scary to share.

‘How long do you intend to defy me?’ he asked after a few minutes.

I looked at my trainers again. ‘Who died and made you King?’

‘Ah, the sulky child act.’

I did look up at him then, and a flood of hot anger suddenly suffused my whole body. ‘I have every right to be sulky and angry!’ I shouted. ‘I didn’t choose to be here. You brought me here for some revolting purpose that I don’t even want to think about. I want to go home.’

‘This is your home now.’

‘Wonderful.’ I almost spat back. ‘Very cosy. Locked up in a disgusting, damp cell with no lights, no bathroom and not even a change of clothes.’

Will merely raised his eyebrows.

‘Why am I here?’

‘You are here in order to remain safe and undetected by the human world.’

‘But I
am
human,’ I began, but faltered when I saw his expression.

‘I am afraid you are no longer human. As I constantly have to explain, you are now a vampire, and a very young vampire at that. I am your maker, and it is my dubious pleasure to instruct and care for you.’

‘So I really am dead then?’ I was finding our conversations becoming ever more bizarre. ‘If that’s true … you must have murdered me already.’

‘I sired you. Brought you over. It is not the same as murder,’ he replied.

‘Bloody well is from where I’m sitting,’ I said.

‘Dead is just dead,’ he shrugged elegantly. ‘We are undead, we do not age, we cannot contract any disease, and we are extremely difficult to kill.’

‘Sunlight would do it.’ I couldn’t believe I was even having this conversation. I must have surely been deep within some weird nightmare.

‘Indeed it would,’ he agreed conversationally. ‘Why else would you be in my cellar where there are no windows?’

‘I hate the dark.’ I shook my head slowly as I realised he had actually told me I was in his cellar. His
cellar
? ‘I really hate the dark.’

‘That could be yet another potential problem for a creature of the night.’

I looked up swiftly. I thought he might have made another joke at my expense, but no expression showed on his face. His eyes held a wicked glint, however, and I held his gaze briefly before I looked down again.

‘So you have brought me to this existence on some kind of whim?’

‘I never have whims.’

‘You must just be a selfish bastard then. You came along and took me from my life and forced me into yours without so much as a by your leave. You gave me no choice … I wanted children one day … ’ my voice cracked in anguish at that thought.

A strange look passed across his face at my outburst, and he was silent for a while as though mulling over my angry words.

‘You are right,’ he said at last, surprising me. ‘I am a selfish bastard. I tend to take what I want when I want it, but regrets will not solve anything now.’

Another uneasy silence grew between us. Eventually I looked up at him. He just stared at me, his expression guarded.

I clutched at my stomach as the Thirst attacked me again.

‘Help me,’ I gasped.

Suddenly it was as if Will had changed his own personal channel, flicked a switch that said ‘normal Will’ and the previous conversation had never taken place.

‘It would be so much easier, for us both, if you would accept that which you cannot change, and allow me to help you move on,’ he replied, his voice still quiet.

‘Why should I make things easy for
you
?’ I said, and gasped at another surge of pain. ‘I don’t even know who the hell you are. You’re nothing to me.’

‘The fact that I am your maker means we have an unbreakable bond whether you like it or not.’ He arched an eyebrow. ‘Although it rather appears to be “not” at the moment.’

‘So, I’m stuck with you,’ I retorted. ‘I don’t have to
like
you.’

He burst out laughing at that, which startled me. I watched him warily. This mercurial Will was disconcerting, to say the least.

‘No, you do not have to like me, little fledgling,’ he said, with laughter still in his deep voice, ‘but you will, given time.’

‘In your dreams, sunshine,’ I muttered as the pain in my stomach grew stronger. ‘Leave me the hell alone.’ I curled up on the bed again like a wounded animal and closed my eyes. I didn’t hear Will walk away. All I heard was the slight creak of the door as it opened.

‘You have yet to meet the others too,’ he said from the door. ‘That should be most entertaining.’

I heard the key in the lock. It clicked with a sound of finality.

I opened my eyes, so I could watch the door in case he came back, then listened for a few minutes, but there was nothing to be heard except the occasional drip of water. He didn’t come back, so I curled up on the bed, with my arms around my stomach. At least when he was in the room, I had something else to concentrate on, even if it was only the arguments. Alone, I just felt weak and ill.

I wondered why he hadn’t insisted that I try to feed again. Perhaps he was bored of me already and wouldn’t come back any more. The pains in my stomach intensified, and I raked my nails down my arms in an effort to counteract the all-consuming pain of the Thirst – if that really was the cause.

‘Someone help me,’ I whispered into the darkness.

I closed my eyes and longed for a release of any kind. To escape from this interminable pain. Death would be preferable to this.

12 February

I confess to some considerable anxiety about the fledgling’s lack of desire to feed.

She must have sustenance soon or the pain from the Thirst will become all-consuming and it will erode her mind until her brain no longer functions. Once this happens I cannot help her, and she will have to be destroyed. I cannot even contemplate the horror of such an outcome.

But I will not give up on her. If I have to force-feed her, I will do so. I refuse to lose her now.

Perhaps this is the outcome of my turning an intelligent woman from the twenty-first century. Women today are so different from the women of my own era. Modern women are confident in their ability to live their lives as they wish. They often live alone without man or family and I have found this strange beyond belief. My little fledgling has lived alone for years, and quite happily, it seems. She forged a career from her own talent, and worked hard to maintain that career.

I will not lose her to the Thirst.

I will not.

Desperation

I opened my eyes to yet another dark and lonely night. I sat up and groaned at the now familiar pain that ravaged my body. Will had warned me that I might feel worse unless I fed, and feel worse I certainly did. Fully awakening from the blessed unconsciousness to this painful awareness certainly held no joy for me. The tortuous agony raged around inside me like a trapped voracious beast over which I had no control.

In a pathetic effort to fight the pain, I rampaged around the small cellar and screamed out loud, as I smashed my fists against the walls until I bled.

I shouted for someone to come. No one did.

I sobbed as the Thirst tried to tear me apart from the inside. Sinking to the floor, I raked my fingernails down my arms. Tiny rivulets of cold blood trickled down from the wounds as I cried for someone to come. Even
him
. Anyone.

After a while, I sank to the floor, exhausted, and hugged my knees as I rocked back and forth like a lunatic. Where was my tormentor? Didn’t he want to come and laugh at me? Hatred for him flooded me like cold fire, mingling with the red-hot pain of the Thirst.

‘Where are you, you bastard?’ I muttered to myself. ‘Hiding away somewhere like the coward you are?’

Suddenly the door opened and he came in, the man responsible for all this.
Will
.

He looked cool and as handsome as ever, while he regarded me with that unusual cat-like stare of his. His eyes flicked to the damage I had done to my arms, and he gave me an exasperated look. He put his lamp on the floor and I glowered at him but said nothing.

‘You have to stop this,’ he said tersely.

‘
You
make it stop,’ I almost snarled back. ‘You made it happen. You make it stop.’

With just two swift strides he towered above me, and I stared up at him defiantly. The air around him felt electric, dangerous. He looked like a predator about to strike.

‘I’m not afraid of you,’ I lied. ‘You’re just a bully.’

He suddenly grabbed me by my wounded upper arms and lifted me easily to my feet. I struggled more from a sense of pride than from any belief that I could get away.

‘Oh, but you
are
afraid of me,’ he corrected, ‘and so you should be. I can be a very frightening person.’

‘That just proves you’re a bully,’ I retorted. ‘So. Put. Me.
Down
.’

With a harsh laugh, he let go of me so abruptly that I lost my balance and fell to the floor. I looked around for some kind of weapon. Something – well anything I could use against him. Delusional, really, as Will might be many things but stupid didn’t appear to be one of them.

He licked my blood from his fingers lazily as he sat down on the bed, and his mesmerising eyes continued to hold my gaze. He raised dark brows as I swore at him in frustration.

‘Please behave yourself, fledgling.’ His mild tone held a hint of amusement.

I stood with as much dignity as I could muster, clutching my stomach as the pain erupted again. I fought to swallow the animalistic noises rising in my throat.

‘I really hate you.’

He didn’t bother to reply, merely lit a cigarette and leaned back on his elbows. I carried right on glaring at him, as the unfamiliar temper flared up inside me again, almost keeping pace with the Thirst. I ran my fingers through my tangled hair, and felt despair that it would ever look nice again. Still, what did it matter? I was dead wasn’t I? Only other dead people were going to see it apparently.

‘I don’t. Want. To. Be. Here.’ I emphasised each word. I watched him for some kind of a response. His face remained impassive and calm. He continued to smoke his cigarette, occasionally pursing his lips to make perfect smoke rings.

‘Don’t you understand? I don’t want to be here and I
hate
you!’

He frowned, but still made no comment.

‘Why don’t you say something?’ The incessant pain forced tears to my eyes.

‘I rather thought you were talking enough for both of us,’ he replied at last. His voice sounded as calm as ever, but with just a touch of something else. It still sounded like amusement to me, and that angered me even more.

‘Bastard,’ I muttered, more to myself than to him.

I began to pace the room, uncomfortably aware that his eyes never left me. Suddenly, he stood and crushed out his cigarette on the floor. I scuttled to the other side of the small room, keeping as far away from him as I could. He raised a sardonic eyebrow in my direction.

‘But you are not afraid of me, of course,’ his lips twitching into a slight smile.

‘Why are you still here?’ I demanded. ‘Take me home.’

‘You are in no position to order me around, little fledgling.’

‘Stop calling me that. My name is Ellie.’

‘I am well aware of that, and when you start behaving like Ellie, I shall call you Ellie.’

‘What the hell do you mean?’

He favoured me with a steady look. ‘Exactly what I say. Think about it.’

Thinking wasn’t something I could do at this particular moment. I was in too much pain and the art of thought and articulate conversation eluded me.

I sank to the floor and rested my head on my knees, which gave me a sudden feeling of
déjà vu
. I had done this before … felt like this before.

When? Why?

I cried quietly, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of seeing me fall apart.

‘Elinor,’ he said softly, and I looked up in surprise.

I recoiled in shock to find him squatting down in front of me, and once again, I hadn’t even heard him move. How did he do that? I swallowed the hard lump of fear in my throat, nearly choking with the effort.

I brushed the tears away with the backs of my hands and his eyes softened. I hugged my arms around my cold body, as I rocked back and forth again on the floor. He put his hands on my shoulders to stop me, and the strength of his touch made me shiver.

His face was very close to mine now and against my better judgement I found I was looking straight into those vivid eyes.

‘Elinor,’ he said my name again, so softly, yet it sounded loud at the same time. I wanted to cover my ears. ‘You have to help yourself a little here, you know.’

I shook my head slightly, still mesmerised by his eyes.

‘I’m cold.’ Even to my own ears, I sounded pathetic.

He stood then and lifted me to my feet at the same time. ‘That feeling will soon pass once you have fed,’ he assured me. ‘But I will get you something else to wear for now.’

Then he was gone again, and I was left alone in the middle of the dank, dark room.

He seemed to be gone only for a heartbeat, and then he was back with a dark-blue sweatshirt, which he handed to me. ‘Put this on.’

‘How can I be cold if I’m dead? Am I really dead?’

He sighed. ‘Just humour me and put the sweater on.’

I obeyed almost without thinking, and he looked pleased.

‘This is your last night off. Tomorrow night you will have to feed in order to survive.’

I wasn’t sure whether that was a threat or another statement of fact. ‘I don’t understand,’ I said bleakly.

‘As I have already told you, the Thirst will become more ferocious with each night you refuse to feed.’

I shuddered at the thought of the pain becoming any worse. ‘Why can’t you make the pain stop?’

‘I have told you before that I can remove your pain.’

‘I don’t believe you. It’s probably just a pathetic excuse to touch me.’

‘If you truly believe that, then you could not be more wrong. I am not suggesting anything untoward. I have no need to make excuses for anything, pathetic or otherwise. There are plenty of women who would be more than happy for me to touch them, if I so desired.’

Arrogant, sexist
and
a bully.

‘So go get one of them and leave
me
the hell alone.’ My petulant remark caused him to laugh aloud.

‘It is not that simple, child.’

He eyed me sardonically, almost as though he could read my thoughts.
Didn’t he say he could?
I pulled the sleeves of the sweatshirt down over my hands and revelled in the warmth of it. He watched my every move with those expressive eyes, causing me to send him a reproachful glare.

‘Why?’

‘Why, what?’

‘Why isn’t it more simple for you to just go and find some woman who actually wants to be with you?’

He sat back down on the bed. ‘My duty, first and foremost, is to you, my little fledgling. I made you. You are mine. Deny it all you wish, but you cannot alter the fact.’ One of his hands was already up to stop my protest. ‘It is imperative that I get you feeding,’ he continued, ‘although, I have to confess, I have never come across a more difficult fledgling.’

I felt a small flare of satisfaction at that. ‘So I’m unusual?’

‘Difficult,’ he corrected.

‘Please let me go home.’

‘I am afraid that is not an option.’ His voice was firm, and with that parting shot, he stood and left the room, taking the only source of light with him.

And just like that I was alone again, alone with the terrifying darkness and the intolerable pain of the Thirst.

13 February

At least the fledgling and I are now conversing, albeit not exactly in a friendly manner. I am certain our rapport will improve eventually, but it is going to be a slow process. I admire her spirit, and I hope that once she accepts the inevitable, she will accept me too. I suppose I could have saved myself much angst by explaining how I came to bring her over to vampirism, but something has prevented me. Pride? Fool-hardy arrogance perhaps? I know I do not want merely her gratitude for preserving her existence. Ultimately, I want her to love me for myself.

I cast my thoughts back to an evening last summer when I had gone to watch her dance in
Chicago
, a fairly modern musical by my standards. Her vivacity had shone then, too. I had been amazed that the producer had cast her in the chorus rather than in the role of Roxie Hart, although I suppose she was not well known enough to take a main role.

I still love the theatre, I always have. I love the atmosphere, the tangible air of expectation just before the curtain rises, and, of course, the performance itself. I am rarely disappointed. Elinor danced beautifully that night, and I was entranced. So much vivacity emanating from one so fragile.

I went back night after night to see her perform. She always gave everything to her performance, and I suspected she would give her all to anything she was passionate about.

Someday, I hope she will be passionate about me.