IMMORTAL BITE

by Long, Andie M.

  I turned around and I saw his teeth.

  Large incisors as white as the walls.

  And I saw his eyes.

  As red as the blood spraying from my throat.

  And I heard his heart beating.

  Th-thud.

  Th-thud.

  Th-thud.

  As I knew my own was ceasing.

  I woke, clutching at my throat. I switched on my light and looked at my hand as I trembled. Red coated my hand and I felt sick.

  Stumbling out of bed, I dry heaved, as panic filled my system.

  It was a dream. How could I have been injured?

  As I woke properly, I realised that my hand was covered in paint and I saw that once again paint trailed from my room.

  I followed it all the way to the studio where gasping I looked at the fresh canvasses I’d left.

  Every one was laid around the room, bright red paint thrown at them like the blood of a slaughtered animal on snow.

  I’d sleepwalked and painted?

  And then dreamed?

  I sat amongst the paintings and put my head in my hands. Confusion gave me a tension headache. At least I was feeling something, I guessed.

  I checked in with myself.

  What was I feeling?

  Panic.

  Disorientation.

  Cravings.

  But not for my blades. Once again, I craved the house with the roses, and the shadow man. Today, I would shop again. For a camping trip. I was returning to Tetburn Manor and this time I wasn’t leaving until I got answers to the questions of my dreams.

  The roses wanted me?

  I was coming for them.

  Caleb

  The pain in my body had ceased.

  The torment in my mind had increased.

  A day passed and there was no sign of the intruder again. My heart still beat but it was slower and I wondered if one day I would wake to find it stopped once more.

  Frustrated, I decided to go visit my clan leader to find out more about mates and beating hearts.

  I did not know how unusual my plans were until my staff stared at me in shock. It would have been amusing were it not for the fact I wanted to get out of there and not be delayed having to explain myself.

  “But, Sir, you have not left the castle in over fifty years.” Daria’s brow creased.

  Jenson nodded his head. “You haven’t left the whole time I have worked here. I’d bet my father would corroborate Daria’s timeline.”

  It wasn’t something I’d considered. Years sped by when you were immortal and living a life of routine.

  “Well there’s no need for panic. I’m only visiting Nicholas, not joining the circus.”

  “But we will worry about you when you’re gone.” Daria’s bottom lip trembled.

  “Daria, dear, throw a party while the Lord of the Manor is away.” I laughed at her. “I’m only going out for a couple of hours. I should imagine I’ll be back by ten at the latest.”

  I put on my coat and stood at the entrance waiting for one of the clan drivers to come to pick me up. “Maybe we are in too much of a mundane routine here at Tetburn Manor. Perhaps we do need to change things up a little?”

  Lights began to creep up the West Bridge and with one last look at their wide-eyed expressions, I laughed and went to meet it.

  “Caleb, my man. It takes a lot to shock a vampire as old as I, but when they said you wanted to visit, I have to admit I panicked. You’re one of the clan I consider most settled.”

  I shook Nicholas’ hand and followed him through to his study. The tall blonde man sat and pointed to the chair opposite him.

  “So, your heart began beating, but you’ve no idea why?” He tilted his head and gestured with a hand for me to speak.

  “I have no firm evidence of why it would start.”

  “You haven’t met anyone new? Developed feelings for any of the staff?”

  “God, no. My staff are valued, but I don’t have anything but a general fondness for their loyalty to me. And I haven’t met anyone new…” My voice trailed off.

  Nicholas raised a brow. “But…?”

  I scrubbed a hand through my hair. “We had a woman camp out on the grounds for a night. She came up to the front of the East Bridge. The security cameras revealed her to be sketching a rose bush. She looked like she was maybe homeless or an addict. Then she left, and she hasn’t returned.” I licked my lip. “My heart began beating that very same day. I went out into the gardens to find a piece of paper she’d dropped and when I put my hands upon it, my heart thudded so hard, my body wracked with pain, and I fell to my knees.”

  Nicholas’ lips curved. “Then I do believe we have found who your mate is, my friend.”

  “But I have never seen her before in my life, and possibly will never see her again.”

  Nicholas shook his head. “If she is indeed your mate then she will be back. You will call to her; your very essence shall sing through the wind all the way to her open window. Mates cannot be denied. The connection is too strong.”

  “You believe she will return?”

  “I know she will. Now, tell me more about her and let’s catch up on what you’ve been up to for the last few decades, shall we? How are my roses doing?”

  Nicholas had taken me in after my sire had been slain just after my turning by a vampire he’d wronged. I’d been feral and vengeful and had slaughtered my sire’s small clan with the assistance of the rogue vampire. Captured by one of the Turrim Londoniarium clan, they’d brought me to Nicholas’ lair where he’d cared for me until I was able to stand on my own two feet. My payment had been to tend to his private gardens, something I’d found joy in. Something that quieted my tortured mind.

  And then he’d given me Tetburn Manor to live in, and my own gardens to tend; helping me track down different cultivars of roses until my beloved collection thrived where my past love could not. I’d learned to breed my own varieties and started the business. Roses not only reminded me of her name, but the petals reflected the fragility of life; the thorns life’s evil stab, often experienced unwittingly. And as I watched red buds bloom; and thorns scratch at my skin, leaving not a blemish, they reminded me of my true nature. The vampire: with a thirst for blood and with the thorny sting of canines.

  After leaving Nicholas and returning to my home, I wandered the house and gardens for a while, looking at them with fresh eyes. I went into the nurseries and checked on the new roses. It took years for us to release a new ‘cross’, taking the best of other roses and transferring the pollen from one plant to another, collecting hips and then sowing the seed. We then watched the seedlings. From thousands of these plants we might end up with half a dozen new varieties. But as time meant relatively little to an immortal, what did it matter that it took so long?

  The human staff who worked here had forebears that had worked here for generations. We needed human staff for selling and marketing purposes. You couldn’t run a business selling flowers where there was no one to show them in the sunlight. They were all trusted by the clan and valuable assets to Tetburn Manor.

  Daria sought me out. “The wanderer returns and is now wandering about his own castle like a first-time visitor. Are you okay, Sir? I am worried about you.”

  I smiled at her. “Well, instead of worrying, come join me.”

  She looked hesitant.

  “I promise I’ve not gone crazy; you’ll be perfectly safe with me.”

  “I know. I trust you. But I’m staff. What will people say if they see me walking around the castle with you?”

  I shrugged my shoulders. “Then grab a paper and pen. For I think we are going to change a few things around here. It’s been a while since we had any new refurbishments and I want something new to look at.”

  Daria rushed over to a bureau, grabbed a pen and paper and ran to catch me up.

  “The thing is, Daria. Being immortal, as we are, means we sometimes get in a rut. Time passes, so much time, and we don’t notice as much as ou
r human employees. The interior of here is dated and the outside has huge potential. Let us make plans!”

  Enthused, I went around, chatting about changing the old severe-looking artwork, painting the walls with fresh paint. Then outside, I discussed changing the overgrown land near the East Bridge, making it a nature sanctuary and a wildflower meadow. All the time I walked around, I was looking through the eyes of what I expected an artist would like. Clear white walls on which to hang fresh paintings. A meadow teeming with different colours and varieties of flowers to choose from. Did she also sculpt? She could make statues and other things perhaps? My mind ran on and on.

  “Well, Sir, I feel you have quite the list. Shall we review it tomorrow and then we can discuss you talking to Nicholas about getting trusted craftspeople to make some of the changes?”

  “Perhaps. For now, I think I shall be satisfied with mulling things over further. Thank you for taking notes, and for spending your evening with me and my ramblings.”

  “Not at all, Sir. It was most enjoyable. Good evening and I shall see you tomorrow.”

  I nodded my head at her, but barely noticed her leaving, such was my active mind. When would my artist come back? Was Nicholas right, that she’d not be able to stay away?

  I found out my answer two days later, as Jenson interrupted my first drink of the day to tell me the intruder was back and had been painting the yellow roses once more. I smiled, as this time there were no greenfly to be seen. Would she notice and be pleased? Or would she be annoyed, preferring to see the natural order of things?

  I played the security footage in my room, watching her walk up the bridge again and her kneeling in front of the rose. This time she looked different. Her hair was dark blonde and looked clean, though it was wrapped up in a messy knot on the top of her head. Still, zooming in, I could see that soft tendrils fell against her cheeks. She wore a white t-shirt and cut-off jean shorts, revealing long, tanned legs. As she painted, she became so entranced in her work that soon her clothes were covered in paint. Her face looked less haunted, and in fact the longer she painted, the more the creases appeared to fall from her brow and she looked at peace.

  It was with regret that I saw her pack up her things and leave as the light began to fade. She was stopping at the point where I began. I would never be able to experience what she saw, the light casting its shadows and bringing out the best colours; but I could get her to paint and hang them in the castle. That way maybe she would bring some of that sunshine into the darkness of my home. My mystery artist bloomed in summer and I thrived in winter, but as I recalled the darkness and shadows upon her face, I realised that at times she lived in winter too. As my roses brought out the summer of my nature, it felt we were in some strange juxtaposition; somehow making a whole.

  I scoffed at myself. I was spending too much of my time in fanciful thoughts. What was going on with me?

  I tried to settle, to relax, but it was impossible. Finally, I got to my feet from my seat in the office and left the castle once more. I would go searching where she’d come from again; see if she’d left anymore pieces of paintings. I felt my heart beating but my body was now becoming accustomed to the rhythm. No longer feeling pain, I placed my hand on top of my chest and welcomed the feeling that I was waking up, becoming alive in a way I’d not experienced for a century.

  As I dipped down from the East Bridge and walked again among the trampled down grass, I heard it.

  Th-thud.

  Th-thud.

  Th-thud.

  But this time it was not the beat of my own heart.

  It was hers…

  Vivienne

  Once again, being in the vicinity of the castle and painting had made me feel more at ease with myself. I’d set up my small tent in the woodland and was pleased I could stay here for an extra amount of time, having brought more essentials with me on this occasion. After filling my tummy with a Pot Noodle, and a bar of chocolate, I had drunk half a bottle of wine and now felt the sleepy elation usually assigned to the just-fucked.

  A twig snapped nearby and I quickly ducked behind a tree.

  “I know you are here. You have nothing to worry about. I don’t mind. It’s quite nice having an artist in residence.”

  It was his voice, the shadow man’s.

  Slowly, I came out from behind the tree, but I couldn’t see him.

  “Where are you?”

  “I am keeping my distance so as not to alarm you.”

  “Why would you alarm me?” I was intrigued that he was hiding but tantalized at the same time. Delayed gratification could be very satisfying.

  “That is a story for another day. For now, why not sit awhile outside your tent and I will stay here for just a moment.”

  “I’ll stay standing if that’s okay with you.” I said curtly. “And I have a knife, so don’t even think about jumping out at me; I’ll gut you like a fish.”

  A chuckle drifted over to me. “Sounds fair, but I have no intention of coming any nearer. So tell me, why are you painting my roses and sleeping on my land?”

  I hesitated. “I was just passing and have an inquisitive mind.”

  “I’ve watched you on my security videos. You lose yourself completely in your work. It is something to behold; but it seems a long way to come to paint a quite ordinary garden rose.”

  “I know little about roses, but I know this is Tetburn Manor and I doubt any of these roses are ordinary.”

  Another laugh. “Well, that one was here when I arrived, and I kept it, so I guess its ordinariness against a backdrop of special blooms makes it extraordinary in its own right.”

  I swallowed. “Would you like me to leave? Is that why you are here? You could have sent security to get rid of me, Caleb.”

  A small gasp sounded. “You know who I am and yet you haven’t seen me. How?”

  I shrugged my shoulders, though I had no idea whether he could see me do so or not. “I just do. It’s hard to explain.”

  There was a moment of silence. “I would like to invite you to dinner; tomorrow evening, 8pm? I would like to show you the rose garden, my prized collections. I have a business proposition for you. There is no need for you to be out here skulking about like a trespasser. My castle walls need paintings. Bring some of your recent work with you.”

  “I’ll think about it.” I replied, but I was talking to fresh air.

  The shadow man had disappeared among the darkness, making barely a sound.

  I tried to sleep after that, but it was impossible. If it weren’t for the time of night I’d have made my way back to my own home to see what I could wear to dinner tomorrow, but instead, I drank the other half of the bottle of wine and dozed in my tent until first light broke. Then I packed my things and returned to my apartment because if this dinner went well, I’d not need to camp in secret again.

  I settled on a long-sleeved pink silk shirt and my usual skinny black jeans. I added a long silver chain to add a little class to my outfit given I was wearing trainers on my feet. Well, he had told me we would be walking.

  My mind wandered thinking about why he’d kept to the shadows. Was it like Phantom of the Opera; was he monstrous? It was certainly possible; there were no photos of him in circulation after all. The mysterious rose grower. I placed a vegetable knife in my handbag just in case. Finally ready, with my art folio accompanying me, I returned once more to the castle. Even the constant travel on public transport couldn’t pull down my mood tonight, and this time at the train station I caught a cab to Tetburn Manor and travelled up the West Bridge like a normal person.

  A woman met me at the entrance. She looked my age, around thirty, and was attractive with long dark-brown hair and light brown eyes. She was petite and slim, and I might have wondered if she was Caleb’s wife had she not been wearing a suit, and a badge that declared her Daria Valente, House Manager.

  She beamed at me and gestured inside. “Hello. I’m very grateful to make your acquaintance. I’m Daria. My apologies for my boss wh
o didn’t think to ask you what your own name was.”

  I laughed. I’d not even noticed. “My name is Vivienne. Vivienne Gladstone.”

  She held out a hand and I shook it.

  “Pleased to meet you, Miss Gladstone. If you’d like to follow me.” Her skin was cold to the touch, mine seeming sweaty in her palm.

  Withdrawing my hand, I followed her down the hall. “Call me Vivienne, please.”

  “Okay. Thank you.” I received another smile in return. “It has been years since Mr Miller had a dinner guest, so you must excuse us if we forget the proper etiquette this evening.”

  My smile slipped a little. Was I having dinner with a disfigured old man? Oh well, whatever it took to get me in those gardens.

  This meant I wasn’t expecting for the door to be opened and for me to be greeted by the sexiest man I had ever seen in my life. Someone who for some reason I felt I knew. Was it because of the dreams? It seemed more than that. Like I’d been missing a limb until now and here it was.

  I swear my heart stopped for a moment.

  Something amused him anyway, because Caleb Miller looked at me with a curve upturning the edge of his plump pink lips. He smiled fully, revealing perfect white teeth. He was around six feet tall, and filled out his clothes just right, dressed in a chocolate-brown shirt, and black trousers. His cheekbones were razor sharp and his nose looked like it had been sculpted to perfection. I didn’t actually know what to do with myself and when he held out his hand, I was hesitant to take it else I throw myself at him.

  Taking a deep breath, I finally shook his hand, coldness seeping through mine. Again, with the cold hands.

  “I think your heating system needs work. Everyone here has cold hands.” I laughed.

  A dark perfect eyebrow arched. “It’s the high ceilings and vast rooms. It’s a pain to keep warm.”

  I looked around at the enormous dining hall. “I can imagine. Do you actually eat in here, or is this just for guests?”

  “No, I eat here, all alone, every night.” It was said with no sorrow, just plain fact. “But we have brought out the best china.” He winked. “So, before dinner, would you like a tour of the castle? Then after, we can take a stroll in the gardens. They’re well lit, although obviously it won’t be as spectacular a view as you’d get during the day.”