Within The Shadows

by Julieanne Lynch

  I craved his touch, and wanted his blood.

  Biting hard into his wrist, the scent instantly burst inside my head. With no further hesitation, I pulled his arm to me, and drank. The warm blood gently slipped down my throat, its magnetism pulling me closer to him. I felt every wave of ecstasy coursing through him. Sensing his need for me, I pushed his hand away, the blood still bursting inside me. I drew him down to me with force, and his mouth explored my neck, kissing my throat, and gently gnawing on me. I wanted him so much I thought I was going to explode.

  He bit down hard, and it stung like hell, but soon enough, the pain was removed, and replaced by something else. His thirst was insatiable, at first; his desire, the driving force behind the bite. He slowed, gently supping my blood, and abruptly coming to a halt before I reached a climax.

  “If we don’t stop, we’re going to do something we’ll both regret. It’s not time.”

  I was breathless. “Oh, my God, you can’t make me feel like that and then stop!”

  “It’s not that I don’t want to. Believe me, I do. We just can’t. It would be wrong on so many levels,” he said, shaking his head.

  “So I shouldn’t take this as rejection?” I asked, feeling foolish.

  “No way, Giselle. When it does happen, it will be special, not just, you know, two horned up teens going at it. I promise.”

  I felt humiliated. I was the one who had, more or less, instigated the whole thing, and now it felt like the world’s biggest anti-climax ever.

  Rejection sucks.

  “So, what happens now? I prodded as I slipped my jeans on, shame written across my face.

  “Well, you indulged in your third feed from me, so I guess a lot of things will happen now. I can almost bet the elders will be planning your consecration in the next few days, or even hours, and then we’ll be married.”

  That certainly got my attention. “Married?” I choked on the word.

  Laughing, he pulled me close to him. “Not like that, but similar. It’s a lot less formal, and a lot more fun than your usual mortal shindig. It’ll be good. Wait and see, but first things first. I will go see Afanas, and fill him in on the necessary things. The rest is our secret.”

  He winked at me. Grabbing me by the hand, he led me to the door. “I must make myself presentable, and you might need to brush your hair,” he mocked, twirling some of my hair between his fingers.

  I left his room, and walked along silently, contemplating what almost happened back there. For someone who had strong beliefs about abstaining from sex, I gave losing my virginity a pretty good shot. My mother had brainwashed me from a young age that good girls do not do that. They wait until they are in a long-term and loving relationship, or marriage, the latter being mandatory.

  Marriage? I was not ready for sex, let alone becoming a wife.

  Chapter Seven

  THE HOT WATER flowed over me as I tried hard to wash away the past week. I wanted to get rid of any evidence of my erotic encounter with Alex, and tried in vain to remove the dark shadow from within the hollow of my chest. I failed at both. I could still taste his blood, and feel him on my skin. The blackness repelled the soap, and remained there, its core embedded in my soul. A cluster of thoughts ran through my head, filling me with more grief and confusion.

  “What’s happening to me?” I whispered to myself.

  It was one thing being brought into a world where everything was strange and new to me, but being told that I had to commit myself to Alex was another thing. I did not want to spend the rest of my life, or what was left of it, married to a complete stranger. The Alex I knew was no more, and, to be honest, I doubted I had ever known him. It had all been a lie, and one with a specific motive.

  Yet something happened every time I was around him. It was almost as though I was being taken over by some unknown force. Every bit of common sense told me it was wrong and unnatural, yet I desired him and his blood. It was as if I had become spellbound. None-the-less, all the thinking in the world was not about to change the fact that I was to become betrothed to him, and, worse, I was to carry his child.

  There had to be a way of escaping it all, but I did not know who to turn to, who I could trust. The worst part of it all was that I felt as though I had wished this all on myself, as though it was my own doing. If I was able to turn the clock back, I would not have called Alex. I would not have given Marc a reason to sleep with Evie, but, like always, everything is great in hindsight.

  Somehow, everything I once knew was now gone. Giving in, I sat in the tub, and cried. I mourned my lost youth, my freedom, and, more importantly, I agonized over losing the right to choose my own path in life. Time passed as the water rested cold and still around my legs. My eyes were swollen from crying.

  A faint knock at the door removed me from my inner torment, and brought me to the present. I looked a mess, completely dishevelled. I refused to respond, remaining silent in the bath. I did not have the energy or confidence to talk to anyone. I wanted to be alone, and allowed to wallow in my self-pity.

  Persistence came with the next knock. A succession of loud bangs made me scramble to my feet, almost slipping in the now stagnant water. Pulling a robe over me, I answered the door, the noise pulsating through my head.

  Standing before me was the same old woman I had bumped into in the corridor earlier. Her beady eye looked me up and down, whilst her lazy eye remained motionless. She mumbled something to me. As I was unable to understand, she raised her voice. Its pitch became a deafening sound.

  Shaking my head, I shouted, “I’m sorry. I don’t know what you’re saying.”

  She continued to scold me in her strange language, and pushed hard past me, shoving me up against the door. Her small frame was not as fragile as it looked.

  I watched her move around the room, erratically looking for something. She talked constantly, repeating the same thing over and over. Her voice began to get on my nerves, and I could feel my temper start to rise.

  “Oh, shut up!” I bellowed. “Just shut the hell up!”

  Standing still, she eyed me, and stared, long and hard. Her eyes were icy cold and red, and they scared the crap out of me.

  “Saty!” she pointed at me. “Saty! Diet’a ste neskoro.”

  Rushing past me, she went inside the wardrobe, throwing clothes to the floor. Suddenly, she roared with laughter. “Ano, to je jedna.” She turned to me, and handed me the dress.

  “Saty!” Her smile was almost gentle.

  “Dress? You want me to put the dress on?” I asked, holding the beautiful white gown in my hand.

  “Ano, ano, saty!”

  I did not understand a word she said, but I obviously had to wear the dress. Obediently, I did as I was told.

  The dress was the most amazing thing I had ever seen. The fabric alone felt luxurious against my skin. The gown’s chiffon bodice was completely covered with the most delicate jewelled beading and intricately embroidered pattern I had ever seen. A taffeta sash was placed high across the waist, and was of a soft shade of grey marl. The skirt gracefully moved as I walked across the room. Standing in front of the mirror, I gasped. The dress was stunning on me. It made me feel like a princess.

  “Krasny.” The old woman smiled, holding her hand to her chest.

  I did not have the heart to argue with her, so I stood still, staring at my reflection. That was when Atarah entered the room. Smiling, she walked up behind me, and placed her hands on either side of my waist. Smelling of vanilla and rosewood, her scent wrapped itself around me, making me dizzy.

  “You truly are beautiful, Giselle.”

  “Thanks,” I falsely muttered.

  Sighing, I turned to face her. I felt as though I could talk to her. She seemed so motherly and nurturing, and in an odd way, she reminded me of my mom, whom I missed dearly.

  “Whatever is wrong?” She brushed the mess of hair from my face. “We will fix you up, but bed hair or not, you are the most stunning ‘nevesta’ I have seen in centuries.” />
  “Nevesta?” I repeated, completely bemused.

  “Bride! This is our mother tongue, Slovak.”

  I looked across to the old woman. “That’s why I couldn’t understand her. Who is she, anyway?”

  Atarah strolled over to the woman, and placing her arm around her, she introduced us. “Giselle, this is Angelika. She is my mother, and one of the elders. She takes it upon herself to take an active role in all rituals. She made the dress for you.”

  I was astonished at how different they were. I did not know if she meant Angelika was her birth mother or maker, and now was not the time for questions.

  “Matka, to je Giselle, nas novy knazka.”

  “Ah, dcera, je hoden!” Angelika replied. Pure elation was written upon her face.

  These breed of vampires defied disbelief. In fact, they defied anything Hollywood ever tried to portray about the creatures of the night.

  “Okay! I really don’t know what you’re saying. So, maybe we can talk a little English?” I felt embarrassed witnessing their bonding session, or whatever it was.

  “Oh, Giselle, I’m sorry. Mother doesn’t speak English like us, so don’t be alarmed by my conversing with her. She remains very true to her roots. Although we no longer live in the small village in the Zemplin region, we do like to hold on to some of our heritage.”

  I felt so small compared to Atarah and her mother. In fact, I was so different to them that I found it hard to believe I would be of any use to them. Then again, with all the trouble Angelika went to in order to make the dress, perhaps I was the most important commodity, after all.

  Thinking so much gave me an unbelievable headache, and I thought I was going to pass out. Taking a seat, I placed my head between my knees, taking long deep breaths. It didn’t help.

  “Giselle, take a sip of this. It will help.” Atarah handed me a glass.

  Taking it, I looked at her, wondering how someone who has killed to survive could be so loving to me. She treated me as though I was one of their own.

  “What is it?

  “Water,” she laughed.

  I drank, and slowly regained my composure. God, it was hot in the room, and the air that flowed in through the open window did not help.

  The full moon shone bright. Its brilliance highlighted the crystal beading on the breast of my dress. The beads shimmered and danced with every flicker of the moonbeams.

  Atarah stood behind me, and gently brushed my hair. She pulled it back, and fixed some pins into place. Angelika rubbed some blusher onto my cheeks, and applied some mascara and gloss. It was very basic, but when I saw my reflection, I was dumbfounded. I had been completely transformed from the girl who wore the most amazing dress ever, to a girl who deserved to wear anything she wanted. I was beautiful, and felt beautiful, too.

  Alarming as it might have been, I was quite excited. Sounds pretty crazy, but I think I got caught up in the moment, and being made a fuss of was definitely something I could get used to. But, as always, reality has a nasty way of hitting you hard in the face.

  Walking behind Atarah and Angelika as they led me through corridors that looked like something out of a gothic fairy tale, I felt like a lamb being led to slaughter. The walls were painted a strange shade of pomegranate, its boldness illuminated by softly lit candles. The wooden floors were temporarily covered with a bluish-red runner that ran the whole length of the hall. Amaranthine drapes hung over the grand bay windows. The air had a distinct aroma, and although I could not quite place the smell, I was sure it was incense. Its strong, fragrant smoke brushed the back of my nostrils, resulting in a few disapproving sneezes.

  I sniffled, “Excuse me!” as we entered the hall through a large set of oak doors.

  It was a very dramatic entrance. Standing below me were hundreds of unknown faces. A few stood out, but they were strangers all the same. They wore a mixture of black and purple clothes. The women were dressed in floor-length gowns, their hair pulled back tight, and their hands covered by long lace gloves. The men’s attire consisted of black herringbone frockcoats with matching black trousers. All wore purple shirts with black cravats.

  I looked around, trying to find Alex. He stood with Leonid in front of an altar. It was the most spectacular scene I had ever witnessed. Lighted candles and floral arrangements of violets, orchids, red roses, lilies, and irises filled the entire room. The scent was overwhelming.

  Silence fell, and all eyes were on me. My stomach churned, and panic set in. I wanted to run through the doors, and as far from there as I could, but behind me were two large men standing in front of the doors. They were not going to move for me.

  I stood alone, and watched the smile spread across Alex’s face as he ushered me to him. I must have floated down the stairs, as I cannot remember walking down. The crowd moved as I walked down an aisle strewn with rose petals.

  Alex looked amazing. I had never seen him look so handsome. He wore identical clothes to the rest of the men, except his cravat matched the grey marl of the sash I wore around my waist. His smile illuminated the whole room. In normal circumstances, it would have melted my heart, but there was something sinister shining in his eyes. A deep redness flickered in the light of the candles.

  I was so out of my depth. Taking my hand, he led me towards a stone slab in front of the altar.

  Shaking, my voice quivered as I whispered to him, “What’s going on?”

  “It’s your consecration. Remember, you will be blessed tonight. Just follow my lead.”

  He was so calm. It seemed they expected me to mirror his demure behaviour. I was anything, but calm, however. Sweat began to seep into the palms of my hands. So many eyes were upon me.

  Breathe, Giselle. Just breathe!

  Alex directed me to lie down upon the stone slab. I obliged, and rested my body on the cold rock beneath me. Incense filled the space around me. There was no air, just smoky fumes. There were four men, one standing at each corner of the slab, and each was holding a staff. Their eyes were filled with the crimson tide that was visible in both Alex and Leonid. Alex stood back, and disappeared behind his father. I was alone with the strange men, each mumbling to himself.

  From the altar came the voice of someone I knew – Atarah.

  “Tonight, we rejoice in the awakening of our sister, Giselle. She will be the vessel in which our new blood will run. It has been spoken by our forefathers that a mortal will bear the child of our beloved Prince Alexander. Our goddess, Lilith, blesses this union, and with her consent, we will commence.”

  Not a sound was heard. I lay still, and held my own breath. Wind blew around the room, sending shivers down my spine. Each of the four men placed their right hand upon me. Joining them was Alex and his father, Leonid.

  “You are a child of our goddess, Lilith, and I ask her to bless you.” Atarah’s voice echoed through the room. I could feel the power that came with her words.

  One of the men touched my head, and said, “May your mind be blessed so that you can receive the wisdom of the Goddess.”

  Another touched my eyes. “May your eyes be blessed so that you can see clearly upon this path that has been chosen for you.”

  My lips were next. “May your lips be blessed so that you will always speak with honour, respect, and love.”

  A hand was placed on my chest. “May your heart be blessed so that you may love, and be loved throughout life’s long path.”

  Alex placed his right hand on my abdomen. “May your womb be blessed so that you may respect the creation of life, and thus be the giver of life.” His smile was gentle.

  Leonid was last. Standing at my feet, he replied, “May your feet be blessed so that you may walk alongside the Goddess, and always place your trust in her.”

  Alex helped me to my feet. Atarah walked over to us, her face serious and full of passion.

  “Tonight, you, Giselle, will pledge your commitment to the Goddess. You will walk with her beside you, and ask her to guide you on this journey. Do you pledge to honou
r her, and ask her that she allow you to walk alongside her?”

  Alex nodded, and I weakly whispered a small, “Yes.”

  “As you will, so it shall be.”

  The four candles were blown out, and applause followed.

  “Is it over?” I whispered in his ear.

  “Almost done. There is just one more thing.” He held my hand, and we walked towards the altar.

  A man stood in front of us. He took my right hand, and placed it in Alex’s left.

  “Welcome all. We are here on this extraordinary night to celebrate the joining of Prince Alexander and Giselle. They ask for your blessing, encouragement, and lifelong support for their decision to become one. Giselle, do you come here of your own free will?”

  I hesitated. I did not know what to make of this, and felt awkward by lying. Deep inside, it was still a lie. “Yes.”

  “Alexander, do you come here of your own free will?”

  “Yes.”

  “A ring is an unbroken circle, a symbol of harmony, of unending love, representative of this greater circle of life in which we all are spiritually connected. Giselle, do you carry with you this symbol of love?”

  Atarah placed an engraved silver ring in my hand.

  Another lie. “Yes, I do.”

  I kept thinking, I have no choice. It is either this, or something worse.

  “Please, place the ring on Alexander’s left hand, and repeat after me, ‘You cannot possess me, for I belong to myself, but while we both wish it, I give to you that which is mine to give. You cannot control me, for I am a free person, but I shall serve you in those ways that you require, and the nectar will taste sweeter from my hand. This is the vow I pledge to you. This is the union of equals.’”

  I hesitated, and faltered, stumbling on some of the words. The gravity of the situation caught within my throat, and I felt the urge to scream and cry.

  Alex repeated his vows, and placed the ring on my left hand. Holding it tight, he refused to let go. I could not fight, although I thought about hitting him right across his face.

  “Giselle and Alexander, tonight the moon stands witness to your union. You have made an eternal commitment to one another. You are bound by that commitment. You must honour each other for eternity. Having joined in this sacred union, I may now pronounce you, husband and wife. Alexander and Giselle Baranski, you may kiss each other.”