“I doubt it.”
“I don’t understand!”
“Forgive me.” Violette leaned down and pressed her lips to Robyn’s. She was trembling. Robyn thought she was about to break down, but when she slid her hands onto the dancer’s slim shoulders, Violette immediately pulled away. “Please forgive me. I’ll never forget you.”
“Likewise,” Robyn said stiffly. She watched as Violette let herself out. “Goodbye, good luck and…”
Go to hell! she added silently, her jaw clenched, her body rigid with emotion. Where the gloved hand had touched her arm, her skin tingled and burned.
* * *
“What did she want?” Robyn and Josef said in unison as they met in the parlour. Then they laughed uneasily. Violette was gone but her shadow hung between them.
“Have you been crying?” he asked.
“I’m just being silly,” she said, sniffing. “So, what happened? You go first.”
“Oh, nothing,” Josef said, stroking her hair. “Well, not quite nothing. She decided to talk to me after all, but… I didn’t say what she was hoping to hear. I wish I knew what she does want.”
“You and me both!”
“Why, what did she say to you?”
Robyn tried to make light of things. “She made declarations of undying love, would you believe. I must have gone clean out of my mind for a few minutes, because I asked her to take me away with her.”
Josef’s face dropped in horror. He actually grabbed her shoulders and shook her. “Dear God, you mustn’t go!”
“Uncle!” She stepped back, shocked. “Why not?”
“Because…” He pushed a hand through his hair, leaving it even more untidy.
“Come on, tell me.”
“To spend too much time with her might not be… healthy. She’s demanding. Can you imagine what force of personality it takes to train and discipline all those dancers? You would lose your own self to her.”
“You make her sound like a vampire.”
“Robyn, please…”
“It’s all right, I’m not going. She wouldn’t let me, and you know why? She said the same thing, that she’d destroy me. As if she was trying to protect me.”
Josef sank onto a sofa, holding his head in relief.
“But it would have been fascinating!” Robyn said. “I could have written a book about her! ‘My life with a mad genius’.”
“Don’t joke about it.” He settled his spectacles on his nose. “Well, it’s almost over. Once the ballet’s left town, you’ll be –” She thought he started to say, safe “– I’ll be on my way and your life can return to normal.”
“Won’t that be fun,” Robyn said aridly. The prospect was dreary. “Without people like Charlotte, Karl and Violette around, I think I shall die of boredom.”
* * *
“It’s you, Cesare,” said the angel, Simon. “You are the one chosen to lead us against the Enemy.”
They clasped hands. In the gloom of the inner sanctum, yellow light flared from their palms, knifing between their entwined fingers. Power. Cesare looked into Simon’s wondrous eyes and laughed, intoxicated by hope.
They’d talked endlessly since Simon had arrived. Cesare longed to ask him, Were you ever human? Can I, too, achieve angelic status? But it was too soon, too presumptuous.
John was silent, but at least he was with them, an essential part of the triumvirate.
“Join us,” said Cesare, and John came to complete the circle. The energy he added was dark, like iron; but it was power, all the same.
“I came here because you understand,” said Simon. To Cesare he was a seraph, too bright and cold for humans to bear. His face was gold ice, ravenous with immortal hunger. “Lilith is the Enemy. You know, as Kristian taught, that God is not the forgiving deity of mankind’s belief. He visits vampires as a plague on mortals. He might equally visit Lilith as a plague on straying vampires.”
“So we must warn them,” said Cesare. “Bring them back to the true path.”
“Yes!” Simon said fervently. “We’re in perfect agreement. And you will be a worthy successor to Kristian, our beloved lost brother. Are you ready?”
Cesare had been awed to learn that Simon had helped create Kristian. Not that anything this angel did would surprise him. To be raised up in Kristian’s place was an honour almost beyond comprehension.
“Can I make the others believe how dangerous Lilith is?” Cesare met Simon’s dazzling eyes. “Will they accept me as their leader?”
“You can, and they will. Am I not your mandate from God? Come, it’s time.”
Cesare squared his shoulders. “I am ready.”
In the assembly chamber, the other vampires waited sullenly in their hooded robes. There were only a few left now: he counted eleven. Maria alone looked at Cesare with respect. The others, including Pierre, reminded him of unearthed moles, blinking resentfully at the daylight.
Cesare stood near the throne-dais, not on it. John and Simon flanked him. In a low-key, conversational tone, Cesare began to talk.
He told them of his journey through the outside world, its depravity and corruption. He spoke passionately of Kristian’s holy life and death. He held up the photograph of Lilith, still in its broken, blood-spattered frame.
“This is our Enemy,” he said.
Did they believe him?
Not at first. They didn’t care, but Cesare forged on like a true orator until he made them care. He brought John forward to display Matthew’s severed head. He summoned the wretched Pierre to describe Lilith’s violent cruelty.
“This is what she’ll do to us all if she is not stopped!” Cesare’s voice rose. “We’ve all seen and felt the growing darkness of the Crystal Ring. It is Lilith’s doing. Unless we act, she will be the death of us.”
The vampires had drifted into a tighter group. Now they were paying attention.
“Remember the story of Noah: God in his rage destroyed the human race, saving only a few. Well, Lilith is the new flood – sent to punish vampires for turning away from God. She is the Dark Mother who consumes her own children.”
His flock listened with parted lips and staring eyes. Terrified.
“But there’s hope. Schloss Holdenstein will be our Ark. We are the chosen few – if we work together.” Tears flowed from Cesare’s eyes as he walked among them. “You know I loved Kristian faithfully. I never turned against him. When I asked Karl to lead us, I made a vast error of judgement, for which I repent. I’ve learned so much since then. Instead, I offer myself as your leader. Your guide, your servant.”
How bright were their eyes now, how beautiful their faces that regarded him from within their hoods! Like young priests and nuns.
“You all loved Kristian too,” he said. “That’s why you stayed. And it’s very hard to bear eternity without him. So I prayed, and the Almighty answered. He sent Simon, His envoy, Kristian’s creator. Simon is God’s promise that I am destined to lead you against the Enemy. I am the soldier-priest whose sole purpose is to destroy Lilith and lead vampire-kind to salvation. Behold, at my side – the flaming sword and the hammer of God, our beloved comrades, Simon and John.”
Suddenly the eyes all around him were full of tears. Cesare found himself half-smothered by embraces, voices clamouring, “Yes, lead us, Cesare. Save us! We’ll do anything, everything.”
No apathy in their faces now. He’d restored them to life.
Wondrous feeling.
“We’ll draw other vampires here to share the truth and the light,” he declared. “But any who refuse, any who shelter Lilith – they too are the Enemy.”
Cesare was shocked at his own harsh assertiveness. Where had it come from? From above, of course! He moved among his followers in a state of near-ecstasy. He walked in a halo of golden light and his feet were winged.
This adoration might become addictive.
* * *
Simon watched beatifically, thinking, Do you think you are safe, Violette, in your little world o
f human adulation? Do you imagine that the theatres in which you escape reality are any less fragile than eggshell?
He wondered where Rasmila and Fyodor were.
If they find me here, I’ll make them stay and serve Cesare. How hard are they prepared to work to win me back? He grinned. Would they bring Lilith to me in chains?
Their passion is there to be used, like that of Cesare and John. I’ll use every one of these fools in God’s service.
Yes, let Cesare stoke the furnaces of their hearts, that I might feed on their energy. I need all the light I can consume to burn away the shadow between myself and heaven.
The thought of Lilith made Simon freeze briefly, like a mouse in owl’s shadow. But the dark wings passed, and his inner sun shone again.
You’ll do for now, Cesare. You’ll last for as long as you feed me with the light of your vision.
PART TWO
Use both your hands to hold me
Tight! Tighter than you should
My heart is coldest steel
But my body’s flesh and blood,
Walking hand in hand with silver,
Close as gold to kiss,
Only lovers left alive
And they’re swallowed in the mist.
I’m your Sword of Light
Won’t you be mine tonight?
I’m your Sword of Light tonight
Going to scorch you deep inside
Make you glad to be alive
Because I’m your Sword of Light.
Wrap tight your cloak around me
And I’ll whisper close my dreams.
My home is such a long way
And I’m older than I seem.
I’ve come a long way
With the good news;
See you need my help.
But don’t ask me to be your guide
I’m a stranger here myself.
I’m your Sword of Light…
HORSLIPS, “SWORD OF LIGHT”
CHAPTER TEN
SWORD OF LIGHT
“I went to see Josef after all,” said Violette, as they sat on the train that was taking the company to New York. A week at the Manhattan Opera House, then on to Hartford, Philadelphia, Baltimore and the southern states.
“What happened?” Charlotte already knew – Josef had told her when she’d wished him bon voyage – but this was the first time she’d heard it from Violette. They were alone in the compartment.
“Nothing.” Violette stared listlessly at the landscape rushing past. “He told me things I’d rather not have heard.”
“And then?”
“I thanked him, and left. What else? Do you think I attacked him?”
“Of course not. So, he was no help?”
“Lilith is an aspect of my personality, he implied, that I must learn to accept and control. Some hope of that.”
“Isn’t that partly true?”
“Perhaps. He was very kind. I know you had my interests at heart when you brought him, but he couldn’t help. No one can. Except…”
“What?”
A pause. Then she spoke, very low. “Josef’s niece.”
“Robyn?” Charlotte said anxiously. “I asked you not to –”
“I don’t know what possessed me. I’ve always been alone, that is Lilith’s nature. But when I saw her… Oh, I love you, Charlotte, but you’re a golden ice shard. You began our relationship by scaring me witless, and it went downhill from there. But Robyn is human, soft and warm. And innocent. She’s the only person I’ve ever met who is capable of making me act against my nature. Alarming, isn’t it?”
“Violette, don’t.” She gripped the dancer’s arm. “You’d kill her. Vampires and humans can’t—”
“Do you think I don’t realise?” Violette said coldly. “Did it ever stop you – with Karl, or with me?”
“No,” Charlotte breathed. “Dear God, don’t –”
“What?”
“Don’t do to her what I did to you! This obsession, it’s lethal.”
“What’s wrong? Are you jealous?” She spoke sharply. Charlotte couldn’t answer. “Well, don’t worry. She wanted to come with us, but I said no. I told her how I felt, but that nothing could come of it.” Violette turned away and leaned her forehead on the window.
“Why?” Charlotte asked softly.
“Because what I feel is an illusion. Of course I know what would happen if I let her join me. So I ended the affair before it began.”
She was expressionless, but Charlotte felt her suppressed emotion: a shattered heart.
“Oh, Violette. I never had the strength to resist my passions like that.”
“Not strength. Just realism. You and Josef should be happy at least, because all the vampires have left Boston and Robyn is safe again.”
* * *
The day after Josef left, Sebastian came to Robyn’s house, as if he’d been waiting for her uncle to leave.
His unexpected visit displeased Robyn; she’d planned a quiet evening with just Alice for company. Still, his courtesy disarmed her. He invited her to dinner, but she had already eaten. Instead, she asked him in and they sat in the parlour with glasses of illicit wine, while Alice withdrew to her own room – with ill grace, Robyn thought – to sew.
Robyn tried to make conversation, but there was dreadful tension between them. Sebastian’s dark presence and his bewitching eyes assailed her physically, like heat. And she thought, why are we holding back? This is what I wanted, isn’t it – to seduce him?
Eventually Sebastian said, “I don’t know why we’re wasting time talking.”
“Nor do I.” She stood, holding out a hand. He accepted the invitation. As he rose and put his drink aside, she noticed that the glass was still full.
* * *
The bedroom, all heavy cream lace, was pale gold in the lamplight. Robyn had designed the décor to be luxurious, pure and inviting. Rose petals, with an underlying note of musk, perfumed the air. They’d said nothing as they climbed the stairs and Sebastian made no attempt to touch her. Was he feigning indifference, or here out of idle curiosity?
“I won’t be long. Make yourself comfortable,” she said as she entered her bathroom.
Sex itself meant nothing to her. It used to, in the early days of her marriage, when she’d imagined herself happy. Betrayal had murdered her physical desires. Now she would never allow them to reawaken.
She undressed and put on a robe of oyster satin. When she emerged he was already in bed, his hair almost black against the big pale cloud of the pillow, one bare arm resting on the cover. Fine dark hairs shadowed his forearms, she noticed, but his chest was as smooth and beautifully moulded as a statue.
Robyn felt businesslike as she approached, letting her robe slide to the floor. A tiny spurt of apprehension jolted her, as it might an experienced swimmer who dislikes the first chill kiss of the water; then, nothing.
She needed this passionless clarity in order to put on the act that men loved. She was like Violette, in that she prided herself on her choreography. Her emotions went into the art, not the act.
The bed was soft, dew-clean and enveloping as she eased herself in, Sebastian holding up the covers for her. She always kept her setting perfect. A jewel should be shown off to its best advantage. Her house, the extension of herself, was almost as seductive as her body.
“You know, I thought you would take more persuasion than this,” he said. His fingers touched her cheekbone. Her heart jumped into a harder rhythm.
“I’m not open to persuasion,” she replied. “Either I will or I won’t.” She stroked his breastbone with her fingernails. “I decide.”
“So I meet your approval?” He was half-smiling. His subtle contempt for everything increased her determination to conquer him.
“Obviously.” She reached up and removed the single comb that held her hair in place. Autumn-brown waves spilled over her shoulders. She wasn’t sure the trick would work on him, so the change in his face was as startling as it was
gratifying. His languid mockery vanished. He became sombre, rapt.
“Your hair,” he murmured. His fingers played in and out of the long skeins. Smiling, she moved towards him, her hands travelling slowly over the firm chest, down the long flat abdomen, teasing and coaxing. Her mouth followed in a trail of kisses. She made circles and S shapes with her tongue. She found herself almost enjoying her work; she’d never seen such an aesthetically pleasing body before, so lean and silky, almost luminous.
Men, in her experience, were amazed by a woman who took the initiative. Presumably their wives just lay there, which was unsurprising in most cases. Amazed, then brainlessly intoxicated by her skill.
Yet as she reached the sable curls between his thighs, he caught her chin and stopped her.
“No,” he said, “wait.” He drew her up so they lay face to face. “Let me make love to you.”
“If you prefer.”
“It’s only courtesy.” He played with her hair again. “All you have to do is respond, however you wish.”
She maintained her inviting smile, but her heart sank. She preferred to be active and in control. If he couldn’t wait, though, at least this was unlikely to last long.
Sebastian was in no hurry, however. He began to caress her as she’d caressed him, and she looked at the ceiling in dismay, thinking, Oh great. He’s one of those who likes to go on all night.
He paused, one cool hand enfolding her left breast. “I see through you, Robyn. You do this for a living, do you not? You don’t really want to be here.”
She snatched a breath to retort, but he pressed a fingertip to her lips. “Never mind,” he said. “Indulge me. I don’t want to hear any pretend moaning. Just relax. Trust me… as if I were a friend.”
His eyes were beautiful. Perfectly shaped and so clear, two woodland pools under the long lashes. Such a lovely colour, soft green edging into brown. Almost feminine. Eyes to die for.
Robyn sank back on the pillows in languorous resignation. Why not relax? she thought. Let him do what he wants. Float away.
She closed her eyes. His hands wove patterns over her arms, shoulders and breasts, absorbing heat as they worked. This was incredibly soothing. A warm feeling woke under her heart, a fluttering ache.
The Dark Blood of Poppies Page 22
