Serafina had no difficulty believing her captor would make good her threat. She moved towards Rebecca, who stood motionless and quiescent before her. As Serafina approached, the girl put her head to one side, exposing her neck. Clearly, as Viviana had claimed, she was used to providing sustenance. Perhaps Viviana kept her and Elizabeth for that very purpose. She clasped Rebecca’s arms and drew her closer. The tang of her blood was overwhelming, its pulse as hypnotic as the beat of a drum. Behind her, as she tasted the first drops of the girl’s blood, she heard Viviana move away towards the window. Then there was nothing but warm, sweet life flowing into her, making her whole again, making her strong.
The next thing she knew, Viviana’s voice behind her was saying, “That’s enough!” and hands were on her shoulders, pulling her away from Rebecca. Serafina’s lips drew back in an instinctive snarl, and her eyes blazed red as she turned on Viviana.
Viviana gave a soft, appreciative laugh. “I know,” she said, “but she’s no use to me dead, you know.” She led Rebecca to the sofa, leaving her there to recover while she escorted Serafina back to her room. “You see,” she said, “I’m not so bad, after all.” Ignoring Serafina’s expression of disgust, she stretched out her arms to encompass the luxurious room. “You could live like this all the time, you know, both you and Rufus. No more creeping round alleyways and cemeteries feeding off whores and drunkards and worse. No, you could live surrounded by beauty, safe from the prying world, your every need catered for. All I ask in return is a little cooperation, a little help.”
Serafina said nothing, but held herself erect and fixed Viviana with a haughty stare.
Viviana shrugged elegant shoulders. “As you wish. But remember, Serafina, what I give I can just as easily take away. And I will find Anton Springer, with or without your help.”
“I wouldn’t help you,” spat Serafina, “even if I could.”
“Such ingratitude!” Viviana gave an exaggerated sigh, shaking her head as though despairing over a recalcitrant child. In her eyes, however, red sparks of anger glinted like hot coals. “Ah, well, perhaps you’ll be in a more compliant frame of mind tomorrow.”
Before Serafina could reply, Viviana turned on her heel and walked out of the room, closing the door firmly behind her. Serafina heard her turn the key in the lock and push the bolts home, and then there was nothing but the sound of her soft footsteps retreating into the distance.
For some time Serafina stood there, hearing nothing but the silence that hung like a pall over the house.
How many young women, she wondered – or men, come to that – did Viviana keep like milch cows in a beautifully appointed dairy to satisfy her need for blood? And for what else? Who could tell what perverse desires she might have developed over the course of her long life? She seemed to have suppressed all but the faintest veneer of her human side – or was that how it became for all vampires in time? But no, she refused to believe that. After all, Anton, who had been a vampire for four centuries, had been successful in retaining his humanity. Indeed, he had more of it in his vampire’s heart than Uncle Sergei had ever had in his human one. And yet even Anton had dragged her all over the world with him, and had left her in danger – for how could he not have known about Viviana? – just to pursue his wretched business deals. Why, he cared more for money than ever he had for her! In the midst of these bitter recriminations, it was borne in on Serafina that they were not her thoughts at all. Viviana, whom she had foolishly allowed access to her mind, was now using her past to poison it against Anton, to make her more willing to betray him. She shook her head as though to rid herself of Viviana’s influence. She must not think of Anton, or Viviana might somehow glean from her mind some fragment of knowledge that would help her in her terrible quest.
Instead, she must somehow devise a way to escape. Perhaps, now her strength was renewed by fresh blood, she would be able to dislodge the bars on the window. She strode across the room. Pulling back the heavy curtains, she pushed up the sash window. She examined the iron grille, but could find no point of weakness, and the bars were too close together to allow her to lean out and see how they were attached to the outside wall of the house. Using all her strength, she tugged, and pushed, and rattled, and finally kicked with all her might, but the grille remained firmly in place. But she would not despair, Serafina told herself. Somehow there must be a way to escape. Next time one of Viviana’s minions came to fetch her, she would overcome her, and at least break free of her immediate prison. There was bound to be a back way out of the house. Of course, that still left the problem of how to scale the high wall. Sadly, real vampires lacked Count Dracula’s ability to climb sheer walls. Still, a number of the trees growing close to it were tall enough to allow her climb up and drop down on the other side. And if she tore herself on the spikes, so what? Her flesh would soon heal. She had no idea where she was, but somehow, however far Viviana had brought her, she would make her way back to Rufus.
She peered out between the bars into the darkness. A blanket of cloud hid the moon and stars, but Serafina’s eyes could clearly make out the silhouetted roofs of houses standing in rows like broken teeth, and the grey sinews of road lit by the soft glow of street lamps. To the left loomed a dark hump that must be a hill. Somewhere in her memory, something stirred. Then she noticed a darker shape in front of it, a wall of some sort, perhaps? She frowned. It was all strangely familiar, but why? As she stood there, puzzled, the moon edged out through a gap in the clouds, its wan light revealing the dark mound in greater detail.
Then she remembered. It was Mount Eden, and the wall must be the one surrounding the Mount Eden Stockade where prisoners were incarcerated. She was so close to home, yet so completely cut off from it – and from Rufus. Tears trickled from Serafina’s eyes, but she dashed them away. She must be strong – for Rufus if not for herself – and watch for a chance to escape from this velvet prison. After that, it would take her no time at all to make her way back home.
TWENTY-FOUR
Two days dragged by before Serafina saw Viviana again, long enough for the pangs of hunger to bite cruelly once more. This time she came in person, accompanied, to Serafina’s surprise, by a young Maori man. A very beautiful young man he was, with shining black curls and sultry eyes, and a full, sensual mouth. Although Serafina had seen both Maori men and women about Auckland, she had never seen any so well built and handsome. Closing the door behind her, Viviana stood close to the young man, running a sensuous hand up his muscular arm and over his shoulder and chest, gazing at Serafina through half-closed eyes. The young man stood silently beside her. His eyes were on Serafina, but he gave no sign that he was seeing her.
“Well, Serafina,” Viviana purred, “and how are you this evening?”
Serafina’s lip curled, but she said nothing.
Ignoring this slight, Viviana went on, “Are you hungry?”
Serafina remained silent, but her eyes strayed instinctively to the young man, whose veins enticed her through his warm, sepia skin.
“Ah,” said Viviana with a smile. “I thought you might be. Bored, too, I imagine. That’s why I’ve brought Tamati to meet you. He’s very pretty, don’t you agree?”
“How very generous of you.” Serafina’s voice was heavy with sarcasm.
“Oh, Serafina,” Viviana said in mock disappointment. “Why are you so distrustful? It’s very hurtful, you know, when I’ve offered you so much.” Her eyes lingered on Tamati for a moment before returning to Serafina.
“Oh, yes,” said Serafina. “At a price.”
Viviana spread her hands in a gesture of resignation. “Why, that’s just the way of the world, Serafina, you must know that. You give me what I want, and I’ll give you Tamati. I think that’s very fair, don’t you, especially considering how fond I am of him? I’m sure you’ll find him as entertaining as I do – and much more, besides.”
“How dare you!” Serafina’s eyes flashed sparks of fury. “First you ask me to betray Anton, and now you want me to
betray Rufus as well! What kind of creature do you think I am?”
Viviana gave a throaty laugh. “One who is hungry, Serafina, and who will become hungrier. Come, Tamati.”
Without so much as a glance at Serafina, Viviana ushered the young man from the room and secured the door behind them.
Serafina began to pace about the room. She felt like screaming, but she would never give Viviana the satisfaction of hearing her vent her fury and despair. Gradually, her anger subsided, leaving in its wake a heavy lassitude. Dragging herself over to the bed, she sat down and tried to clear her head.
Somehow – somehow – she must find a way to escape. What Viviana wanted of her she simply did not possess, yet it was certain she would show no mercy in her attempt to gain it.
* * * *
Serafina’s fears proved well founded. No one came near her for days.
How many days, she could not tell. As her hunger grew, so the boundaries of her awareness constricted until she became incapable of focusing on anything beyond her need for blood. Day by day, her reflection in the mirror showed her paler and more haggard, until her cheekbones cast shadows on the wrinkled parchment of her cheeks, her lips shrank back from teeth that seemed too large for her mouth, her fangs ever present with her need for blood, and her hands, once elegant, resembling the curved talons of a bird of prey. Unable to bear the thing she had become, with a hiss of impotent rage she pulled the mirror from the wall and dashed it to the floor so that she could no longer see what Viviana had done to her. Sometimes, staring longingly out of the barred window, she would lift her head and sniff the night air and howl like a wolf baying at the moon, scarcely even aware that the high, keening sound issuing from her own lips. But no answering call reached her. The house was cocooned in a silence so profound it seemed to have swallowed her whole.
When she became too weak even to howl out her hunger, and lay day and night curled in her bed like a dying animal, Viviana came to her. This time she was alone.
Serafina scarcely heard the scratch of the key in the lock. When Viviana softly called her name, it took all her feeble strength to lift her head from the pillow and stare at her from dull eyes in shrunken lids.
“Come, Serafina,” she said, her voice gentle as she lifted Serafina up to sit leaning against her arm. “I’ve come to set you free. But first, you’d like to feed, yes?” Serafina tried to speak, but all that emerged was a faint, rasping breath. “Of course you would,” Viviana said soothingly, stroking her tangled hair back from her brow.
Viviana placed pillows behind Serafina, since she was incapable of sitting unsupported, then sat back and unbuttoned her gown, pulling her chemise open to expose her breast. Her lips curved in a voluptuous smile as she lifted one hand and raked a sharp fingernail across her pale flesh, gasping as though responding to a lover’s touch as she slashed her skin. Blood welled up, thick and dark, and Serafina instinctively strained forward, her lips working hungrily. Calmly, Viviana held her at arm’s length.
“Ah, but there is a price to pay,” she murmured. “Always, there is a price.”
A faint, whimpering sound came from Serafina’s lips. She moved her head as though searching for the source of the sound, then her eyes returned to the blood slowly trickling down Viviana’s alabaster skin.
“Hush now,” said Viviana, as though reassuring a child. “I promise you you’ll be fed. But first, I need something from you. Come, look at me.”
Serafina felt her captor’s hand beneath her chin, the fingers soft but insistent. Scarcely able to comprehend her words through the fog of her weakness and hunger, she dragged her eyes painfully away from the tantalising crimson gash, and lifted them to Viviana’s face. Her black eyes bored into Serafina’s. Before Serafina could think to stop her, Viviana was inside her mind, ruthlessly pushing aside her thoughts and imposing others of her own devising. It was like being raped. She whimpered like the frightened child she had once been, but as she had been then, she was powerless to stop the onslaught. At last, even her fear and revulsion were pushed aside and replaced with the blind, unquestioning devotion of a child for its mother, its source of love and nourishment.
With a triumphant smile, Viviana drew Serafina close, stroking her hair as she lapped greedily at her breast as though she were, indeed, her mother.
“Ah,” she breathed, “now you are truly mine! You will find Anton Springer for me. If you fail, I will avenge myself by destroying his kin as he destroyed mine. I will destroy your will, your very love for those you most care for. Perhaps that will be the sweetest revenge of all.”
After a few minutes, she pushed Serafina away, laughing softly as she sat there hungrily licking her bloodstained lips.
“I’ll send someone to you soon,” she said. “But first, tell me who I am.”
Serafina stared at her, a look almost of wonder in her eyes. “You are Viviana,” she said, her voice a dull monotone, still harsh from long fasting.
“And what am I?”
“You are my mistress.”
“Good. And what will you do for me?”
“I will find Anton Springer. I will bring him to you.”
“And what about Rufus?”
Serafina’s brow creased in a puzzled frown. She shook her head. “I don’t know any Rufus.”
“Excellent!” Viviana stood up, buttoning her gown over the livid wound that was already beginning to heal, and left the room.
Within moments, there was a soft rap at Serafina’s door and Tamati entered with a fair-haired young woman Serafina had not seen before.
As she stared from one to the other, Tamati said, “This is Catherine. Viviana said you were hungry, so she sent us both.”
“Yes,” Serafina whispered, reaching out her skeletal, white arms. “Hungry.”
Catherine came forward, meekly presenting her soft, pink neck as she sat down on the bed. With a low cry, Serafina fell on her and began to feed. Warmth began to suffuse her body. She could feel herself growing younger, stronger, as the life-giving blood rushed through her starved veins.
She felt a tug at her shoulder and lifted her head, blood dripping onto her chin from her crimson-rimmed lips, her eyes flashing red sparks of anger. Tamati stood there, clearly excited by the sight of her. As Catherine slipped from Serafina’s grasp, he quickly took her place. Still fast in the grip of her bloodlust, Serafina scarcely heard his moan of pleasure as she bit into his neck, or felt his hands on her body as she drank his blood.
Sated at last, she lay back on the pillows, eyes closed, savouring the delicious sensations afforded by the fresh blood flowing once more through her body. She ran her hand along her arm, revelling in the soft, cool smoothness of her skin. She touched a finger to her lips. They were soft and full once more. Ah, it was good to feel young and strong again!
When she felt Tamati’s lips on hers and his warm hand on her thigh, her response was purely physical. No thought, no emotion adulterated the animal lust with which she returned his kisses, pulling him to her, feeling his hardness thrusting against her. Frantically she tore at his clothing, desperate to feel his skin on hers, to feel him inside her, to slake that other most primitive of hungers.
Through the heat of desire that possessed her, Serafina became aware of something else in her mind, its tread so delicate she had not noticed it at first. With a cry of disgust, she thrust Tamati away from her. Viviana must have known the effect the blood ecstasy would have on her after starving her for so long. Now she was using the mind connection created when Serafina had drunk her blood to share her enjoyment of him. Nausea overcame her, and with it a cold fury.
She leapt off the bed, screaming at Tamati, “Get out! Just get out!”
His face registered shock, but he pulled up his trousers between fearful glances at her, lifted Catherine – who had been leaning against the bed half unconscious – to her feet and dragged her with him to the door. With one last, wide-eyed stare at Serafina, he and Catherine left.
Serafina stood gazing afte
r them, trembling with horror, listening to Viviana laughing softly in her mind as she enjoyed the deception she had used. How could she do something so—so depraved? Serafina tried to close her mind, to deny Viviana entry, but found it impossible. Again she heard Viviana’s crooning voice. Now you are truly mine!
With a sob of anguish, Serafina turned away from the door. Her eyes fell on the mirror lying face down on the rug. Wondering vaguely what it was doing there, she stooped to retrieve it and propped it up on the dressing table, staring at her reflection. The young woman who looked back at her was tall and slim, her body lithe and her skin moonstone-pale and translucent. But her raven hair was wild and tangled, her wide, full lips rimmed with blood. Dried blood streaked her face and her breasts. And the eyes that stared back, huge and dark, into hers were almost devoid of intelligence, the eyes of a creature more animal than human. Tears welled up and spilled down her cheeks, tracing lines through the caked blood – tears of sorrow for a loss she could scarcely comprehend.
She snatched up the mirror and turned it to face the wall. Whatever it was that was looking out at her, she did not want to see it.
She dragged herself to the bathroom and turned on the bath tap, half mesmerised by the water flowing into the tub. For a long time she squatted in the freezing water, scrubbing at her hair and body, desperate to cleanse herself of defilement.
* * * *
Certain now of her submission and obedience, Viviana no longer kept Serafina under lock and key. When she grew hungry, she was fed. If she needed clothes, they were provided. And if, sometimes, gazing out over the grounds of Viviana’s mansion, feelings came to Serafina of a vague and undefined longing, they remained unexplored, for she no longer had any idea what to do with them.
One evening, shortly before sunset, Serafina was woken from slumber by an irresistible sensation that Viviana wanted her. Dressing quickly, she made her way down the wide staircase to the scarlet-and-gold sitting room where Viviana waited in her customary chair by the fire. As she entered the room, Viviana beckoned to her. With no thought but to obey her, Serafina went to stand before her.
A Different Hunger Page 22
