A Different Hunger

Home > Other > A Different Hunger > Page 21
A Different Hunger Page 21

by Lila Richards


  Serafina drew herself up to her full height and glared at her. “Who are you, and why have you brought me here?”

  The woman’s full, blood-red lips curved in a smile, though her eyes remained cold and rapacious. “You don’t recognise me?” Her voice was rich and seductive. “But no, I suppose not. However, I certainly recognised you. Or rather, I recognised the lovely necklace and earrings you wear. They were given to you by Anton Springer, weren’t they?”

  Serafina gasped. Her hands flew to her neck where her silver and jet necklace lay. This must be the vampire she’d sensed, this creature with smiling lips, but eyes like a bird of prey.

  “Of course I don’t recognise you,” she snapped, using anger to mask her fear. “How could I, since we’ve never met? Who are you? How do you know my name?”

  “Oh, Serafina, such a naive question. You really should know better. How do you think I discovered your name? Mine, by the way, is Viviana Alexandreu, but you may call me Viviana.”

  “Why have you brought me here?” Serafina demanded, her tone making it clear she had no desire to be on intimate terms with her captor. “And what have you done with Rufus?”

  “Rufus? You mean the young man you brought across? Why, nothing. I’ve no interest whatsoever in him. But come, let us be comfortable.” Viviana walked with a slow, sinuous gait to sit in a wing-backed chair by the fire, looking at Serafina and indicating the chair opposite.

  “I prefer to stand, thank you,” Serafina informed her stiffly.

  “As you wish, my dear.”

  “Don’t call me that! I am not your ‘dear’ anything.”

  Viviana shrugged. “A pity, you’re really rather delectable. Ah well, I hope we may still be friends.”

  “I hardly think so. Friends don’t go about abducting one another. What do you want with me?”

  “What a little spitfire,” murmured Viviana, taking a heavy silver box from a side table and turning it this way and that to study its ornate embellishment. “Still, I’m sure it’s nothing I can’t deal with.” She slowly closed one slender hand around the box and crushed it between her fingers.

  As she tossed the mangled ornament carelessly into the fireplace, Serafina felt her throat constrict with fear. She swallowed hard, determined not to show it.

  But she was not surprised to hear Viviana say, “No need to be afraid, Serafina, I’ve no wish to harm you. I merely need your help, that’s all.”

  “What—what help?” Serafina had to force her voice to do her bidding by sheer willpower.

  “I have a great desire,” Viviana replied in a voice like satin, “to see my old…friend, Anton Springer, once more. When I saw you, and recognised the jewellery he gave you, I thought, why, Serafina will surely be able to help me find him. Did he tell you how he acquired that lovely jewellery, by the way? No, I suppose not, since it hardly redounds to his credit.”

  Serafina ignored this barb. “Since you were able to find me and bring me here without my knowing it,” she retorted, her voice scathing, “I should think you’d be able to find him yourself.”

  “Sadly, things are not always as simple as one could wish.” Viviana stood and turned to face Serafina, fixing her eyes on hers. “Where is he, Serafina?” she asked, dropping her voice almost to a whisper. “You must tell me!”

  “But I don’t know,” Serafina stammered.

  “Come, come, my dear. Where Serafina is, can Anton Springer be far away?” Her seductive voice had acquired a dangerous undertone.

  “I truly don’t know. He left for Australia well over a month ago. I believe he had some business to conduct there.”

  “Don’t lie to me!” Viviana’s voice was low, but her eyes flared red with fury. “Springer knows how to conceal himself – I’m only too well aware of that – and clearly he’s taught you a few of his tricks. But you’re no match for me, Serafina, be assured of that. I want Anton Springer, and you’re going to help me find him.”

  “How can I tell you what I don’t know?” Serafina’s voice was sharp with fear as well as anger. She stood facing Viviana, inwardly quaking, but with her head held high. “You boast of your great power. Read me. See that I’m telling you the truth.”

  Viviana fixed her eyes on Serafina’s, and Serafina felt the probing of her mind. She gritted her teeth to suppress a shudder of disgust as Viviana crawled, cold and relentless as a snake, through her thoughts and feelings. When she was done, Serafina gave a great sigh, realising she had been holding her breath.

  “There, you see? I don’t know where Anton is.”

  “No,” smiled Viviana. “But still you may lead me to him.”

  “But how—?”

  Viviana held up a hand to silence her. “For almost four centuries, I’ve been seeking Anton Springer, ever since I discovered it was he who murdered my beloved Walther.”

  “Anton is not a murderer!” Serafina protested angrily.

  “Ah, but he is, and ungrateful, too. How else would you describe someone who kills the one who gave him eternal life?”

  Serafina’s eyes grew wide with astonishment. She opened her mouth to speak, but Viviana forestalled her.

  “Just so,” she said. “The vampire who brought Anton Springer across was himself brought across by me. Springer knew him as Doktor von Dunkel, but when I met him, he was Walther Hummel, a Doctor of Philosophy at the University of Frankfurt. He was also an alchemist, and it was this that led him to me. He sought the key to immortality, you see – true immortality, not the pathetic sophistry peddled by religions. Naturally, I didn’t reveal myself to him at once, though I knew as soon as I saw him that we were kindred spirits, and so we became, in blood. Of all the dear children of my blood, I loved Walther the best. We were in perfect harmony, he and I.” Viviana licked her lips slowly as though recalling something sensual and intimate. “Indeed, so strong was our bond that the moment he died, I knew it, and I vowed, in my grief, to have my revenge on his killer. And so I shall, Serafina, if it takes four centuries more. After all, what is time to such as we?”

  Stunned by these revelations, Serafina remained silent for a time. At last, she stammered, “But how can I find Anton for you? I’ve already told you, I don’t know where he is. Besides, he’s not a murderer. Von Dunkel was very cruel to him. He brought him across against his will in the most heartless way, and took him from the one he loved. That’s why Anton killed him. You, of all people, should understand that.”

  “Oh, I do,” Viviana assured her, a note of boredom in her voice, as though the precise reason for her vendetta were no longer of any great import. “But I’ve sworn to have revenge, and, one way or another, I will have it. As for how you can help me, I’m not sure of that just yet. I had hoped you’d be able to tell me Springer’s whereabouts, and I could have sent you back to the loving arms of your Rufus, and no harm done. As it is, however…”

  Viviana broke off to go and tug at a brocade bell-pull that hung by the wall. Somewhere in the depths of the house, a bell clanged faintly.

  “You can’t keep me here!” Serafina cried in panic. “I can’t help you, and even if I could, I won’t!”

  “You’ll do precisely as I tell you,” Viviana’s voice put Serafina in mind of a crouching panther, “and believe me, Serafina, that’s no idle boast. Thirteen hundred years as a vampire have given me powers you couldn’t even imagine.”

  “Then do your own dirty work,” hissed Serafina.

  “If only I could,” Viviana sighed, as though indulging a difficult child. “Unfortunately, there’s just one small problem. Springer won’t come to me, you see. For some unaccountable reason, he doesn’t trust me. You, however, his beloved little sister…you see, Serafina, I really do need your help.”

  “Of course Anton trusts me,” Serafina replied. “But even if I found him for you, he’d know straight away that he was in danger. I wouldn’t even have to tell him.”

  “Oh, I’m sure I can overcome that little difficulty,” purred Viviana, and Serafina shivered as s
he felt her mind invaded once more.

  Viviana withdrew, however, as the door opened and a young woman came into the room. With a shock, Serafina recognised the girl she and Rufus had seen in the alley off Queen Street – was it earlier that night or the night before? Viviana must have sent her out deliberately to act as a decoy. Serafina felt sick with apprehension.

  Viviana spoke to the blank-eyed girl, “Elizabeth, take Serafina to her room, then return here to me.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Elizabeth nodded her compliance.

  Viviana came to stand in front of Serafina and stared into her eyes. At once, Serafina felt herself bombarded by wave after dark wave of pulsing energy.

  “Go with her,” Viviana ordered. “I’ll send for you later.”

  Serafina tried to fight her, but the black waves engulfed her and pulled her under. Like a sleepwalker, she turned and followed Elizabeth.

  Elizabeth led her up a wide, curving staircase to a kind of gallery with an ornate wooden balustrade on one side overlooking the vast hallway, and on the other a stained glass window depicting trailing vines and blood-hued roses. Turning right, she continued down a long hallway with heavy doors on either side. She halted before one of these and opened it.

  Serafina saw a large room furnished with a double bed with a carved oak headboard, a massive oak dressing table and wardrobe, and two chairs upholstered in bottle-green brocade. Heavy green plush curtains were drawn across the room’s high windows, and the bedclothes on the bed were turned down as though for an expected guest. As though in a dream – or a nightmare – Serafina followed Elizabeth into the room.

  “Sleep now,” the girl said. “You must be tired.”

  With a shudder, Serafina realised that the voice was Elizabeth’s, but the words were those of Viviana Alexandreu.

  The girl left, closing the heavy door behind her, and Serafina heard a key grate in the lock and the scraping of heavy bolts. Viviana clearly had no intention of allowing her to leave. Yet somehow she must get away from this place and find Rufus again. Perhaps then they could fight Viviana together, or at least have some chance of warning Anton.

  It occurred to Serafina that the large window at the far end of the room might offer a means of escape. Although she was on the upper floor of the house, with her vampiric agility she felt sure she could find a way down to the ground if only she could manage to open it. She ran to the window and pulled back the curtains.

  The window was barred.

  It was covered on the outside by a heavy metal grille. The window itself was locked shut, but Serafina was able to wrench off the lock and push up the sash. Grasping the bars, she began to shake them with all her strength. They did not give at all. She slammed the window shut. How long had Viviana been planning her capture? Or was she not the only one to be kept prisoner here? The thought made her shudder.

  Staring out through the metal grille, she made out a sweeping driveway and an expanse of grass dotted with trees and clumps of shrubs. Beyond this, the trees grew closer together, almost like a small wood or copse. Through the treetops she could just make out a high wall topped with spikes. Even if she managed to escape the house, it seemed breaking free of this vast property would be impossible. Viviana had thought of everything; there was no way out at all.

  Feeling sick and defeated, Serafina crept back to the bed.

  Viviana’s mind intrusions had left her barely able to think, and now it was almost dawn. She sank onto the bed, pulled off her boots, gown and corset, and slipped between the cool, white sheets. Her last thoughts, as she drifted into sleep, were of Rufus – she refused to let herself think of Anton in case her captor should pick up some clue that would lead her to his whereabouts.

  * * * *

  Somewhere quite near, a bell was ringing. Its deep, sonorous tone dragged Serafina up through dark clouds of sleep. Still only half awake, she heard soft footsteps hurrying outside her room, but by the time she had fully roused herself, they had all but faded away. She sat up, sleepily rubbing her eyes. In a rush, the events of the previous night came back to her and tears pricked at her eyes. She dashed them away in anger. She must hide her fear and despair, even from herself, or Viviana might discover her weakness and use it against her. Or even against Rufus, if she realised just how dear he was to her. With this stern self-admonishment, Serafina climbed out of bed and pulled on her clothes.

  It was well into the night, she thought, so she must have been exhausted. She still felt a trifle lethargic, though this was probably due to the lingering effects of the mind control Viviana had used on her. Equally, it could be the hunger that was beginning to gnaw at her gut.

  She began to pad about the room in her stockinged feet, discovering that a door she had not previously noticed led to a bathroom. Thick towels hung on wooden towel rails, and a shelf above the bath contained fragrant soap and a small stack of neatly folded facecloths. From a hook on the door hung a crimson satin dressing gown. Abruptly aware of how grubby she felt, Serafina turned on the bath tap. Lying in water up to her chin, Serafina tried to imagine she was cleansing her mind of Viviana’s unwanted intrusion as she cleansed her body of grime.

  * * * *

  All that night and the next day, as the hunger grew ever more insistent, Serafina saw no one, and heard nothing but the occasional dull clang of the bell, and footsteps hurrying to answer its summons. Of Viviana there was no sign.

  Sitting on the bed, Serafina tried to sense Rufus, and to contact his mind with hers, but the house seemed to be surrounded by a great, invisible shield that nothing could penetrate. No doubt this was how Viviana avoided notice, despite living in such a grand and opulent house. Serafina had not felt so alone, or so helpless, since she was a child living in Moscow. Hugging her knees to her chin she weathered another pang of hunger and clenched her teeth against the pain. If only there were something she could do. As the wave of pain receded a little, she slid off the bed, padded across to the door, and began to tug on the brass doorknob until it almost came away in her hand. The door remained locked fast. With one last, furious thump of her hand on its polished surface, she began to pace about the room in a fury that only barely concealed the stark terror lurking beneath. For despite her elegant human veneer, Serafina knew Viviana had made no attempt to retain her humanity. She was all vampire. Her primitive hunting instinct honed over a thousand years and more, she would stop at nothing to get what she wanted. And she wanted Anton.

  Eventually, pain drove Serafina back to her bed, where she lay tightly curled beneath the covers until she finally found some refuge in a sleep haunted by dreams of death and blood and a great beast gnawing at her gut.

  * * * *

  The scraping of the bolts on the door of her prison roused Serafina from her uneasy slumber. She heard the key turn in the lock, and then the door swung open. As she sat up, rubbing her burning eyes, she saw a young Maori woman standing just inside the door.

  “Viviana wants to see you,” she said, her pretty face and brown eyes devoid of expression.

  All at once, the sound and scent of the girl’s blood overwhelmed Serafina as she sensed the pulsing rhythm of her veins, rich and warm and inviting. Her eyes were drawn to the girl’s slim neck where the jugular vein traced a faint blue line beneath her brown skin. Instinctively, she moved forward, her lips curled in a feral smile. No longer did she see a young woman staring back at her; she saw only deliverance from pain, from weakness, from hunger…

  Sharp agony seared through her so that she cried out, doubling over with the shock of it. But it was not the hunger. Nor did it come from the girl, who stood just as before, one hand on the door handle, her brown eyes as blank as those of a corpse. It was Viviana. But why did she torture her so, when she must know she could not give her what she wanted? Or did she derive some perverse pleasure from it? Well, Serafina would not give in to her. She would not put Anton, her dear protector, in danger, no matter what this monster did to her.

  The girl spoke again, “Come.”

/>   In a desperate bid to conceal her fear, Serafina tried to make her mind as blank as the girl’s as she followed her along the corridor and down the stairs.

  Viviana stood by the fireplace in the room where Serafina had first woken – was it only two days ago? As Serafina followed the Maori girl into the room, Viviana turned and came toward them as though approaching a lover. Ignoring the girl, she took Serafina by the elbow and steered her towards the sofa. Serafina longed to shake her off, but her captor’s grip was strong, and she was distracted by hunger. And she must not betray her feelings.

  “Good,” Viviana said, once she was seated. “I dare say you’re feeling hungry.”

  “You know I am!” Serafina replied through gritted teeth.

  “Yes,” said Viviana with a sharp little smile. “I must apologise for having left you for so long – I’m afraid I’ve been rather busy. Nil desperandum, however – relief is at hand.” Without taking her eyes from Serafina, Viviana beckoned to the Maori girl, still standing by the door. “Come here, Rebecca.”

  Without a word, the girl obeyed.

  “There you are,” Viviana said with a careless wave of one elegant hand. “She’s all yours.”

  “But…” Hungry as Serafina was, she was suspicious of Viviana’s motives. If she had intended to feed her all along, why not simply let her feed in her room? Or was this another ploy to demonstrate her power?

  “Oh, don’t worry,” Viviana’s tone was offhanded, “she’s used to it.” As Serafina still hesitated, the vampire’s forehead creased in an impatient frown. “I have no intention of leaving you alone here,” she said sharply, “so you’d better get on with it before I regret my hospitality and send you to bed without any supper.”

 

‹ Prev