by Darci Darson
Cherry arched her eyebrows and replied, “I like wild roses. I love them... But I’m sure your girlfriend will be happy with... normal roses.”
“The wild roses burn me,” Imre growled and lessened the distance between them.”Can’t you just like anything less burning? And where will I find the wild roses in autumn?”
Obviously, he was not happy with her help. Cherry’s chin trembled.
“For God’s sake,” this was Felicia’s voice blending with the creaking noise of the door in her bedroom. “It’s 7:15 am. Imre, go to your bedroom. The sunrise is in two minutes.”
Cherry used the opportunity to escape to her bedroom. As she walked inside, she tripped over an antique red rag and fell to her knees. Letting out a hiss, she could hear the echoes of Imre’s suppressed laugh in the hallway.
CHAPTER 6
CHERRY OPENED HER eyes. For a second, she could not remember what had happened and thought that she was safe in her own room. The fever ate every cell in her body as she rubbed her eyes and lifted her head from the pillow. When the memory came back as she looked around, the disappointment coursed through her chest like an arrow. The nightmare continued. She was in Westfad Manor not in her own bedroom. It was no surprise when her eyes finally met Imre’s red ones across the bed. The dim light produced by the bedside lamp made him look even more dangerous and wild than usual. The clock showed 7:15 pm. She had missed another day. Her whole experience so far resembled a feverish dream.
“Felicia is busy. She told you to keep an eye on me,” Cherry said, her voice heavy with sarcasm. But she fell silent immediately after, frightened with her unexpected boldness. She felt sick. That must have been clearly visible on her face as Imre started from the chair and moved towards the door.
“Stay in bed,” he ordered. “I’ll bring a bucket from the kitchen,” he added bluntly.
Cherry managed a tiny protest as he disappeared in a fraction of a second but she had no intention of listening to him this time. She swung her legs over the side of the bed and put her feet on the cold, wooden floor. She started walking and realised how weak she was. Her knees bent and her body lowered. She sat on her feet as a massive wave of nausea made her lean forward. She heard Imre returning.
“I told you to stay in bed,” he said, irritated and strode over to her, putting an orange, plastic bucket on the floor near the doorway.
“I needed to go to the bathroom,” Cherry said quietly. She was not able to move. Her mind spun. She wanted to throw up.
She felt Imre’s closeness right behind her. He put his arms under hers and lifted her to a standing position.
“I can walk,” Cherry said, embarrassed. Her nightgown shifted, exposing nearly the whole length of her legs, covering just enough of her body to save her dignity. Imre still supported her from behind. “I can walk myself,” she repeated louder.
“Ok,” he said but did not release her.
So they stood, clenched together, with Cherry’s back pressed against his chest as Imre’s cheek touched hers. A wave of shivers went through her body.
“Are you moving or not?” he asked quietly.
She nodded and took a rapid breath as Imre placed his one hand just above her breasts and the other one against her tummy. His unique aura made her feel hungry... for his kiss. Imre lowered his head and inhaled the scent of her neck. He tightened the embrace around her and his mouth grazed along the line of her jaw whilst his hand ran up her outer thigh.
This was awkward... and dangerous. A vomiting reflex travelled from her stomach to her throat.
“You’ve ruined the atmosphere, Birdie.”
He loosened the hug so Cherry moved slowly as Imre held both her arms. She entered the bathroom and when he turned back and left, she slammed the door shut, a sigh of relief escaping her mouth. Collapsing near the toilet, she took a few deep breaths and threw up, hoping that Imre would not hear anything. She wiped her mouth and closed the toilet lid, her arms and head resting on the top. Cherry remained still, trying to prevent another wave of dizziness. It did not work and her head spun as the minutes passed.
The abrupt sudden knocking startled her.
“Open the door,” Imre growled from outside. He was either furious, or nervous, or maybe both.
”Go away!” she shouted, opening the toilet lid quickly as she threw up again. Her heart raced. A cold sweat broke out on her forehead, despite the fever attacking her organs.
“Open the door, Birdie,” Imre repeated coldly. He seemed to be very serious.
“Ok... ok... Two minutes,” she said quietly. Cherry managed to pee, flush the toilet and wash her hands, despite her body being on the edge of collapsing. Brushing her teeth, she wondered whether Imre had stood still behind the door. That had been one of the most embarrassing yet threatening situations of her life. She sat on the floor, weakened by a sudden light-headedness. As she crawled towards the door, her numb fingers pulled the door handle. She moved into the room, her knees and hands sweeping the floor in front of her. She lifted her head and noticed Imre sitting on the floor next to the antique, Edwardian wardrobe, one metre and a half away from the bathroom door. He was leaning against the wall, legs outstretched, ankles crossed. A low chuckle left his mouth when he saw her.
Cherry positioned herself not far from him, pulling her knees to her chest. She wrapped her arms around them and turned her head towards Imre.
“Happy?” she asked, gasping for air, too exhausted to be scared of him, or embarrassed, or something else.
Imre grinned wildly.
“Do you want something to drink?” he asked in a softer voice.
“Yes, please. A glass of apple juice,” Cherry answered with honest gratitude.”Where is Felicia?”
“She is reading her witchy books.”
“Ok,” Cherry said, hesitatingly. “That’s weird... and helpful.”
Imre stood up and extended his arms towards her. Cherry did not react at first, but then she held his hands and let him assist her. She staggered towards her bed and fell on the firm mattress, completely out of breath. She watched Imre covering her body with the duvet with growing suspicion as she rolled on her side. He did not want to kill her... for now. Instead, he smoothed her left hip.
“I’ll be back in a minute,” Imre said in his usual, harsh tone.
“Ok,” Cherry said, unable to grasp the meaning of the whole experience.
When Imre left, Cherry closed her eyes. Something stirred inside her. It blossomed and overwhelmed. The longing for Imre to come back was strong. It felt like a flame had seized her thoughts and skin. It was like a real, pressing discomfort in her chest. She sighed deeply, feeling angry with Imre that his presence caused her such intoxication. He was not a candidate to fall in love with and she had more important problems to deal with now, yet the desire to feel his body against hers enslaved her whole being. She stifled a cry of desperation. And then emptiness gripped her mind with its erasing hand.
The girl opened her eyes. She gave a start when her eyes spotted Imre standing near her bed. He held a glass in his right hand.
“Your apple juice,” he said and winked at her.
Cherry looked at him with her widening eyes and cringed. She did not understand anything.
“You wanted a glass of apple juice,” Imre said slowly, narrowing his eyes. He stared at her with a trace of disappointment in his eyes which was odd.
Cherry shook her head. She felt like a crazy person. But there had been a lot of crazy stuff in her life recently so she did not panic.
“No, I didn’t,” she said in a timid voice.”I have just woken up.” She wondered what he wanted from her. She felt very thirsty and gratitude peaked in her heart.
Felicia came into the room unexpectedly. The woman looked exhausted. However, she smiled as if she was full of warmth and energy.
“How is she?” the blonde asked.
“She is sick,” Imre muttered. “And very forgetful,” he added with a tint of gloom in his voice.
&nbs
p; “The bulbs in the kitchen need replacing,” Felicia murmured, her voice stirred.”If you could do this for me...?”
Imre put the glass next to the bedside lamp and left, the wind from the speed of his vampire movements rustling the curtain.
Felicia took a step towards the bed and reached into her pocket, handing Cherry a small bottle.
“You need proper rest, Child,” she said.”The herbs will help with everything...”
Cherry lifted herself slightly on one elbow and took a decent sip. The herbal aroma spread into her chest; it cooled and soothed and relaxed. Cherry sat on her bed and reached for the glass of apple juice, returning the tincture to Felicia. The girl emptied the glass in a few seconds. She was exhausted and wanted to sleep. The herbs gently cuddled her, and she departed into the restful calm.
CHAPTER 7
CHERRY WOKE UP with a start. She glanced at the wall clock. It was 6:13 pm. She pulled the curtains back and a delicate smile formed on her lips. The irony that her sleep pattern was like a real vampire’s now, did not escape her. Dusk was crawling slowly into the garden. Her nightgown was wet and clung to her chest like a piece of foil. She must have had extensive night sweats caused by her odd flu-like symptoms. She took a quick shower, brushed her teeth and put on her black jeggings and a plain, navy t-shirt.
She joined Imre and Felicia in the sitting room, dominated by an open Adams style fireplace. On both sides, two bookcases rested in the shallow niches. The books were proud, leather backs reminiscent of the past. The flames jumped in a disco of yellow and red shapes, licking and ingesting the wood. Gentle heat touched Cherry's skin. She observed the flames for a while, enchanted by the quiet sound of wood crackling and then turned her head towards her new friends who were settled in leather armchairs. They were embraced by a dim, flickering light, their faces dark and ghostly. The room was filled with the scent of the vanilla and apple candle burning on the glass coffee table wafting together with the delicate smell of smoked wood.
Imre’s face was a bit mysterious, especially his mischievous grin, like a small boy wanting to surprise with a silly joke. He winked at Cherry.
“Have you got a nice dress, Birdie? We are going out.”
“Are you insane? I’m not going anywhere with you. Felicia said I would be safe here.”
“I think you should go, Child. It’s important,” said Felicia.
“What is so important to risk my precious life?” Cherry folded her arms and wrapped them around herself.
“My father wants to see you,” Imre said and grinned. He was confident as always, but Cherry noticed his jaw slightly clenching.
“Your father? He must be a vampire, too, so, no, thanks! I'm a coward and I’m...”
“I’m waiting in the car.” Imre interrupted Cherry in his usual cold and blunt way and disappeared in a flash. The speed of his movements was extraordinary, unable to be perceived fully by the human eye.
“Imre hasn’t seen his maker since he was born as an undead. He only remembers a name of the old shadow who created him. Drasa has summoned him today. He knows about you. I think he may help,” Felicia explained as she approached Cherry and held her hand. “Drasa lived in ancient times. This might be our chance. I will be with you all the time. I promise.”
“Fine, let’s do it!" Cherry said and paused. She was angry with herself that she had agreed so fast. How typical for her. She had always tried her best to meet other people’s expectations. However, this time it could mean her life. She brushed her hip length hair from her confounded face. "I have a kind of a stupid question. Is the dress necessary?”
“No, Child. But I would like you to look nice. You deserve it, despite the terrible circumstances. I bought a beautiful dress... for my daughter. She never got to wear it. I want you to have it, but eat something first. You must be starving!”
“Thank you, Felicia.”
“How are you feeling, Child?” the woman asked, genuinely concerned.
“Fine... I must have caught the flu or something. What’s the day today?” Cherry asked.
“Friday.”
“I thought it was Thursday.”
Felicia smiled nervously and grabbed Cherry’s arm.
The meal was served in the kitchen. It was homemade lasagne with a mug of strange herbal tea. Felicia was a really good cook. Cherry ate quickly, drank her tea, and ran to her bedroom to change her clothes.
***
She let herself stare at the large mirror for a minute or two, delighted by the deep red colour of the dress. It resembled the dresses from the 50s with its elbow length, narrow sleeves and a wide hem. Cherry twirled with a delicate smile on her face. Her skin was like the sparkling whiteness of snow. Her hair was like the satin blackness of a satin bowerbird’s wings and the colouring of the dress matched the intense redness of a rose.
Felicia knocked on the wooden door quietly, and entered.
“It looks perfect on you,” she said with a warm kindness and pinned a dried flower into Cherry’s hair, preserved in a perfect condition as if it had just been picked. “A wild rose for protection. For you, from Imre. He forced me to give it to you,” Felicia added and chuckled. “He can’t touch them. I don’t usually use them because the protection they offer is nothing like my other herbs, but there is never enough of the safety measures. You are so pretty that you can save on make-up.”
“Thank you,” Cherry murmured, wondering why Imre had given her this wild rose flower. Anyway, it was nice and maybe he was not such a cruel monster as she had though before.
“You are welcome, Child.”
“How old is Imre?” Cherry asked with sheer curiosity. She felt a jab of shame. She had nagged Felicia to answer her questions about Imre for the past two or three days.
“He was born in 1009 in Hungary into a very religious and noble family.” Felicia answered. ”A wild boar killed him while hunting. He was twenty then. Poor boy... This must have been a horrible experience for him. He never talks about his turning into a vampire. He never talks about the curse, either. He knows I cannot undo it. It was designed by two witches. And I’m only a healer, a normal human using the imprinted knowledge. Poor boy...” Felicia repeated.
“Does he live with you?”
“He comes and goes. He can sense when I’m in danger. One of the bedrooms is his. I never enter his cave,” Felicia lowered her voice to a whisper and chuckled. “Who knows how many corpses I would find. I’m afraid I would also not resist my urge to bleach and clean the room from top to bottom. He sometimes works night shifts in the Shell garage nearby,” she added and continued slowly, “Imre has been very helpful for me. He looks after the garden, at night, of course. His eyesight is much better than mine. He sometimes does my weekly shopping. He hates doing the dishes and cleaning.”
Cherry’s face lit up as she smiled at her reflection. Felicia stroked her arm, a motherly and warm gesture. The stability and safety radiated to the girl’s soul. This was the type of care and affection Cherry had craved, yet been denied, from her own mother for as long as she could remember.
"What about the B&B?" Cherry questioned. Her interest was honest and her gratitude for the woman became deeper.
Felicia wrinkled her forehead. Her eyes darkened.
"I closed down a couple of months ago. The Opyri killed one of my guests. The official cause of her death was a stroke. I realised then that my life had become too dangerous for normal people. I’m baking cakes and selling them now."
Imre invaded the bedroom without knocking. Cherry nearly jumped out of her skin. A nervous stabbing went through her chest as she turned towards him.
“Can you knock next time,” she moaned, frustrated. His lack of good manners started to annoy her. But only a tiny bit. Her willingness to forgive him seemed to be endless.
Imre stood a metre away from Cherry, gazing at her. His eyes gleamed. Cherry could literally feel the passion from his thirsty gaze drinking in every detail of her body. It was as if he were undressing her with hi
s eyes. The intensity of his look scared her. Imre’s face lit up with amazement and admiration. An honest, boyish smile raised the corners of his mouth.
“You are fairest of all things, Cherry Devita,” he said, his voice was surprisingly soft. An uncomfortable silence followed.
“Children, don’t forget your herbs,” whispered Felicia, leaving the room with a considerate understanding on her face.
Cherry stood with her eyes staring at the floor. She was desperate to produce at least one sensible sentence and determined to be less red in the face. Not to mention praying for Felicia to come back.
“You, too, look good for your age,” she said after a long while. Her shock was wearing off. “I’ve counted your total age and it’s 1001 years.”
An intense blackness of anger obscured Imre's narrowing eyes. His fists clenched. His jaw muscles twitched. Cherry stepped back overwhelmed by his wild darkness. Imre was wild and unstable and free like an ocean, a deadly combination.
“I suffered two centuries of wandering as a soul trapped in the shadows, enduring the same pain of my unexpected and violent death over and over again,” Imre said. His voice was like a deep hissing. “I was then pulled out from the world of spirits and born again to life, to suffer the hunger stronger than anything you could imagine,” he continued with pain and resentment.” I lurked in the woods, stalking my prey, haunting the graves of the loved ones gone long ago. Three centuries under the ground eaten by maggots. I prayed for the mercy of death... 1001 years of loneliness. Yes, I’ve lived a long and happy life.”
“I’m so sorry, Imre.”
“No, Birdie. Don’t even try to understand. You are not able...” Imre grabbed Cherry’s hand and pulled her behind him. His clasp emanated firmness and security, though. “Drasa is waiting,” he added in a gruff voice.
Cherry did not even protest. She followed him like a naughty, scolded child. Her timid excitement and shaky confusion fused to create an overwhelming flame in her body. She was on fire. Her thoughts circled only around Imre. This was something beyond her control. She had to stop it.
