Rose had not been able to spend a moment alone with Ursula. Fiona had monopolized her. While she felt she had to be dreaming this scene, at the same time she felt a sense of clarity that she had never experienced before. This was what real pain felt like. This was what it was like to lose the person you love to someone else.
But she had never really had Ursula to begin with. Ursula did not belong to her.
Rose thought she caught Ursula stealing glances in her direction, but Fiona kept forcing her attention back with her constant banter. Rose's chest kept tightening and she actually started to experience pain. She closed her eyes and tried to doze, but all that did was to make their voices more prominent. Ursula's low, dulcet tones sent shivers through her like a tuning fork sent vibrations through the air. It made her pulse quicken and she squirmed when she realized that her underwear was wet.
Then there was Fiona's voice. Also low, but more musical and lilting. At first, she cringed as Fiona spoke but as she listened...she was unable to tune them out...Fiona's voice grew more pleasant, more soothing, and despite herself, Rose found herself enjoying the sound. As the conversation continued, Fiona's voice began having the same effect on Rose as Ursula's. The two women's voices blended together, swirled around one another, darting in and out, surrounding her and filling her head like a symphony. She became aware of a pulsating between her legs. She opened her eyes and quickly looked down at her dress to see if her hardened nipples were obvious. They were, so she self-consciously crossed her arms across her breasts, trying to press them back down.
She couldn't wait for the day to end.
THE CAB DRIVER picked up their blankets and baskets and walked to the carriage, the women trailing behind him. Rose hurried to the carriage, not wanting to be in the park a moment longer.
Her skin was slick with perspiration and her head throbbed. The day had been endless and utter torture, and she felt exhausted and achy, as if she'd been beaten with a strap. Why? Why does Fiona have to be so interested in the woman she loved?
She stopped dead-still. That was the first time she'd thought of Ursula with that word: love. She loved Ursula. She could no longer deny it. Gripping the handle of the carriage to steady herself, she turned to look at the two women walking arm in arm.
Fiona had been watching Rose with a sideways glance but quickly averted her eyes when Rose turned around to fully face her. There was an abstract, almost smug smile on her face, as sharp as a scythe. It slashed open the sealed dark side of Rose's heart. For the first time in her life, Rose felt hatred.
Chapter Ten
FIONA LAY ON her bed. The hours spent in the park that day had taken their toll. Her body felt as if it had been trampled, then dragged by a team of runaway horses. Aches and pains that she did not normally feel were corrupting every inch of her. A dryness ate away at her insides and her skin was tightening like a piece of leather that had sat out in the sun too long. She thought she could hear it crackle.
The day had turned out hotter than she'd expected and as hard as she'd tried to shade herself from the sun, it had beaten down, through the leaves of the trees, through the delicate silk of her parasol, past the brim of her wide, feathered hat. She wouldn't be able to take much more.
Right now, she desperately needed to replenish the blood in her body. She was so weak and dizzy, she almost couldn't get herself up to go out, but she had to. If she didn't, she would die.
She stayed in the dark areas of the sidewalks, where streetlamps did not illuminate. She particularly did not want to be seen tonight. Her steps were erratic and her gait a bit wobbly and in her state, she would attract the attention of passersby, or worse, police officers. At best, someone would think she was ill and would try to help her. At worst, a policeman would think she was drunk and arrest her. Either way, the interference would be deadly.
She walked to the edge of the west side, to the Hudson River. She ducked behind a pylon and watched as whooping sailors walked down the gangplank of their ship, which was now docked at the lower Manhattan piers. There was only a quarter moon but Fiona could make out the name on the ship with no problem...the Clairmont. When the last of the singing and dancing men in white uniforms had disappeared behind the main building that was the center of the meat-packing district, she emerged from the shadows.
Where there was a docked ship, there were prostitutes, and she was hoping to find one. As much as she hated taking advantage of women, they were easier prey...they were weaker and didn't know much about fighting back. Even in her weakened state, she was still stronger than any mortal man, but she just didn't have it in her to fight. Not tonight.
Whenever it was known that a ship was due into port, all the working girls of New York City overtook the piers, waiting and waving all the sailor boys off their vessel. But tonight, they were nowhere to be seen. It was strange. Perhaps the ship had called in New York Harbor unexpectedly.
The notes of a song being cheerfully whistled were faint, but Fiona heard them. The song sounded like "Goodnight Ladies." Turning toward the sound, she saw a white-clad figure appear at the top of the gangplank. The whistling became louder as the figure came closer, making its way down the gangplank. It was a young sailor, on his way to shore leave. Why he hadn't left with the others, Fiona didn't know. Nor did it matter. The young sailor stepped onto the pier and stopped. He lifted up a pant leg, pulled a flask out of his sock, and took a long swig of something that made him wince when he swallowed it. Evidently, he was planning to have a fine time with the ladies of New York. Swallowing another mouthful, he let out a loud "Ahhhh," and smiled broadly. Picking up his "Goodnight Ladies" again, he began walking with a happy bounce in his gait.
The boy was young but thin and wiry...he wouldn't be too difficult to handle.
Fiona moved silently from one pylon to another, certain that the sailor was too happy, too excited, and perhaps by now, too influenced by the potent liquid in his flask to notice anything. Heading toward Greenwich Village, the boy turned into an alleyway. Fiona was not far behind.
With her sharp vision, Fiona saw something move behind one of the other pylons. She turned but saw nothing and turned her attention back to the sailor. Just a few more steps...
Another movement several yards behind her made Fiona jump. There was something there. She sensed it. She sniffed the air. Whatever it was, it wasn't human. It was a familiar scent but something was muddling it. Maybe it was a cat or dog.
There was no time to waste. She needed to feed and her meal was going to disappear soon if she didn't make her move. Before the young man could do anything, Fiona had come upon him, pinning his arms behind him. She turned him around and pushed his back against a wall. Fiona saw herself in his eyes as her fangs lunged for his throat. She drank heavily but he was young and strong. He would survive. Perhaps he'd even have a story to tell his buddies. He wouldn't remember that he'd been bitten by a vampire, but he'd remember some kind of assault, and his shipmates would probably just needle him for his boozy shenanigans.
Fiona left the sailor on the ground, propped up against the wall, and turned out of the alley. There it was again! Movement, a sound, a quick, rushed rustling. Of someone or something moving very quickly. She sniffed again. The scent was becoming clearer. She should have known. It was another vampire. But there was something else. Something familiar about the scent of this particular vampire. She hadn't known many, as Fiona had tried to avoid others like her, avoided living in their colonies or attending their affairs. Although she had gone to a few parties in her earlier years, she grew weary of them quickly. Most other vampires were self-indulgent, arrogant, and too often uncaring. And although she had met a few who were not like that, she had somehow managed to remain alone. She hadn't wanted it that way, but her anger, resentment, and loneliness had created a barrier around her, and other vampires had found it too much trouble to break through it, even the caring ones.
She went the direction she came from, keeping herself hidden, waiting for the other night cra
wler to identify itself. Where had it gone?
Sniff. There, to the right, behind that building. Fiona went to it, determined to find out who was lurking around the corner.
"Identify yourself," Fiona said, in her most menacing voice.
The folds of a long skirt became visible as a young woman stepped out of the shadows. Elizabeth!
"Hello, Fiona," she said. The young woman who had begged and pleaded with Fiona to make her a vampire stood before her now, very much what she had wanted to be. By the expression on her face, though, Fiona thought she was not as happy about it as she once was.
"Elizabeth," Fiona said, with a bit of surprise. She hadn't seen her in so long.
"I suppose I don't have to ask you how you are," Elizabeth said. "You're obviously well."
Once again, Elizabeth's delicate voice was breaking Fiona's heart. "And you? How have you been?" she asked softly. She genuinely wanted to know because she had hurt Elizabeth. Physically, Elizabeth was well. This much, Fiona knew. But emotionally--that was another matter. So often she'd thought about Elizabeth, what had become of her, how she was faring.
Even though almost fifty years had passed, Elizabeth still had smooth, pearly skin, dark auburn hair, and clear, brown eyes. But, not surprisingly, she was different. Anyone else looking at her would say that Elizabeth looked like a sweet, soft-spoken, demure young girl. This was good, since the less menacing you looked, the more they left you alone. But Fiona saw a hardness in her, and an uninspired, worn-out veil over her lovely eyes. Elizabeth was now harsh, bold, and resolute.
"I'm well. As well as can be expected," Elizabeth responded. Her gaze never left Fiona's face, but her features shifted ever so slightly. She still hurt after all these years.
Fiona remained silent. She still felt guilty for making Elizabeth a vampire, even though she had begged her for it. Fiona had known what it would mean for Elizabeth and that one day, she would come to regret it.
"You look lovely as always," Fiona finally said.
"Thank you. You look..." Elizabeth scanned Fiona's body greedily, "very well yourself."
"What are you doing back in New York? I thought you went to Boston." After Fiona had broken Elizabeth's heart, Elizabeth couldn't stand to be in the same city as Fiona, so she went north.
"I came back to take care of some business." Elizabeth said, the hardness in her voice softening. "I had a feeling I'd run into you."
Fiona stood staring into the brown eyes, once soft, now steely. No more words came to her. She had spoken them all in the past.
"I wasn't sure if you'd recovered from Pamela," Elizabeth said.
Fiona's eyes widened. "How did you know about that?" It was a disastrous affair that ended with Pamela immolating herself. Fiona had watched helplessly, arriving too late to do anything.
Elizabeth shrugged "I have ways of finding out. I'm sorry it didn't work out." Her voice held bitterness, but also a hint of sadness. "I also am aware that you're at it again."
Fiona's mouth gaped. The cool night air had suddenly turned sticky and still. Without realizing it, she reached up for the brick wall next to her and clawed at it slightly.
"Why are you here? Really?" she asked. It was no coincidence that they had met tonight.
"I had business. That's the truth." Elizabeth brought her slight hand up to push back her lovely hair, a gesture that had always made Fiona's heart skip a beat. "But I will admit that I chose to seek you out while I was here."
"All right." Fiona took her hand off the wall and straightened her back, preparing herself for whatever it was Elizabeth wanted of her. Fiona had abandoned her and, therefore, had always felt obligated toward her. And she had told Elizabeth that she would always be there for her, even though Elizabeth had left New York angry and resentful. Whatever Elizabeth wanted of her, she would most likely grant.
"Stop, Fiona. Stop this now." What looked like tears welled in Elizabeth's eyes, and Fiona took a step back, as if she'd been hit.
"What do you mean?"
"It's not right. She's going to hurt you."
She gazed into Elizabeth's eyes, which were softening. She saw a little of that sweet, innocent girl she had known so long ago still alive in there. And she felt a drop of the all-consuming love Elizabeth had once had for her...she stopped. Still had for her. She ached to take it all back, to undo the hurt she'd caused this beautiful woman. But despite all the powers and abilities she had, that was one thing she could not do.
"What are you saying?"
Elizabeth stood motionless, with the exception of wisps of delicate hair that the breeze was playing with. She thought that they had stood there looking into one another's eyes for hours, but knew it was only seconds. It was all that was needed. Much passed between them in mere moments. In Elizabeth's eyes, Fiona saw pity.
She brought her hand up to Fiona's face, and Fiona did not flinch. She didn't fear that Elizabeth would slap her. She'd been caressed by this hand many times and even though decades had passed, the soft, cool flesh still made her want to cry.
"I'm saying that you're playing with fire."
"I know what I'm doing."
"Do you? You always seem to think you know what you're doing. But look how it turns out." Her voice was not stern, but compassionate. "You jump in with your heart every time, never looking to see anything else around you, and you get hurt. You're going to get hurt this time as well." Elizabeth stepped closer to her. "And this time, you may end up paying the ultimate price."
"How do you know? You don't even know her." Elizabeth spoke of it as if she knew something. "What do you know of it?" she asked her.
"I spoke to Ramon. He asked me to warn you."
Ramon. Fiona frowned. It had been his promise that had kept her going all these years. It had been his words that she'd spoken every night like a prayer.
"What do you care what happens to me, anyway? After what I did?"
Elizabeth regarded her for a moment. "I fell in love with you once, Fiona. I wanted to spend eternity with you. Yes, I wanted immortality, but more than anything else, I wanted to be with you. And that was the only way."
She cleared her throat and seemed to be shoring up her resolve. "When you left me, I was devastated. Humiliated. But despite that, and despite the fact that I wanted to hate you, I still cared for you. I always will." She leaned in and pressed her lips softly to Fiona's.
Fiona closed her eyes and accepted the kiss, a kiss she'd once melted into and thought she'd swim in forever.
"Please, Fiona. End it now before it's too late." Her soft eyes steeled again and her jaw set. "And if you won't stop, then be careful. Watch for the warning signs and run if you have to." She threw her arms around Fiona, kissed her cheek, and hurried off, the clicking of her heels echoing on the cobblestones.
Elizabeth's kiss remained on her cheek like the warmth from a dying fire, its last embers providing a few moments of comfort before the cold took over.
Fiona stared after her, then leaned against the wall. What was Ramon's interest in her affairs, anyway? She hadn't seen or heard from him in a century and a half. since he'd made his promise to her about finding her soul mate. Since he'd helped her with Susanna. Although "helped" seemed so inappropriate now. She'd never intended for things to go the way they had. Things had happened that should never have happened.
Chapter Eleven
IN THE QUIET of her apartment, Fiona sat in a chair and listened to the sounds of the city. People laughing, horse and cart bells ringing, horses clomping, and carriage wheels rolling vicariously over the cobblestones. Once, she even heard one of those new horseless carriages sputtering loudly down Fifth Avenue. She had thought at the time that a combustion engine had exploded until she'd gone to the window to see this carriage rolling down the street on its own. It was so loud that it had frightened people on the sidewalks, who jumped back as the thing came unsteadily toward them.
It gave her comfort to listen to the sounds of the changing, yet unchanging, world beyond her wind
ow. It also brought back memories of a different time and place. Horses pulling carriages down the streets of London instead of New York City. The accents and dialects of the British enjoying their evenings off instead of the mixture of accents of people from everywhere in the world gathered in one place. Encountering Elizabeth tonight brought back memories of Susanna, which crowded her mind, even blocking out the sounds of the city.
Fiona always wished she could forget the past, forget what Susanna had done to her. And most of all, forget what she had done to Susanna. But it lived inside her, becoming a part of her flesh and bones, and it hid in the dark recesses of her mind, jumping out periodically to torment her. And when it did, she relived those days as if they'd just happened, and it devastated her all over again. Seeing Elizabeth brought it back yet again.
ALL THAT HER friends knew was that Susanna had done something horrible, something that had frightened Fiona nearly to death. They had wanted to return to the apartment with her but Fiona couldn't bear the thought of bringing her friends anywhere near Susanna and God only knew what else. So, she went alone.
She went one night, when the milliner's shop where she worked closed for the evening. She made her way down the familiar cobblestone streets to the row houses where she had lived with Susanna. The gas lamps flickered in the darkness, casting a yellowish glow on the buildings of London. Summer was fast approaching but there was still a nip in the late spring air and she was grateful for being downwind of the smells of the meat market. Soon, within a month, no matter what direction the wind was blowing, walking the streets would be unbearable as the odors permeated every inch of the area.
As she turned the corner of her street, she caught sight of her house and stopped dead in her tracks. The thought of entering made her blood run cold and the hair on her neck bristle. She used to look forward to going home every day and disappearing into the sanctuary of those walls. Seeing her beautiful Susanna's face, kissing her sweet lips, spending the dark hours together, and going to sleep together were all she had wanted out of life.
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