by L. C White
Sara takes the dress bag off the rail, hanging it onto a wall hook. She knows I have wasted all my options, and I’m way too curious to go back into the shop and start searching again. We’ve now been here for two hours, and I think I’m starting to irritate everyone, even my mum.
Sara pulls an envelope from the back of the hanger and hands it to me. I swish across the room in the tight fishtail skirt, and open it eagerly.
Dear Elizabeth
If you are reading this, I assume you’re growing impatient because you are unable to find what you are looking for. I know this is unconventional, and right now you’re probably thinking that I am once again, taking control of the situation. But this dress was my mothers, and I thought it could be your something old. I have spoken to the seamstress, and if you see fit, she will alter it to your taste.
All my love
Adrien.
I hold the letter down by my side and stare at the dress bag. Jeez, it’s over a century old. God knows what it’s going to smell like. I don’t want to hurt his feelings here, but my head is telling me to go back into the shop and pick something else. For a start- It’s bad luck for the groom to see the dress before the wedding. And secondly- I don’t want to look like I’m an extra from Downtown Abby.
I take a breath and slowly unzip the bag. Just as I’m about to open and take a peek, Cate and Mum come through, wondering why I haven’t fashioned the awful fishtail dress I have on.
“What’s that?” Mum asks.
“It’s Adrien’s Mother’s dress,” I utter.
“Err, you’re supposed to pick your own dress,” Cate angers. “Not wear something so he doesn’t have to put his hand in his pocket,” she yaps. “Who the fuck wants to wear their mother in laws wedding dress?”
She’s speaking her mind, and she only sounds bitchy like this when she’s tipsy. I bet between her and my mum, they’ve polished off that full bottle of free booze.
“Let her look at it,” Sara snaps.
“Can you give me a minute? The least I can do is try it on.” I release a shattered sigh.
“Sure honey,” Mum says, knowing I’m getting stressed about the whole thing. “Cate, come on.”
I turn back to the hanger as Mum tugs Cate through the door. I pull open the bag and tuck the zipper behind the dress. It doesn’t smell at all. A sudden emotional buzz whizzes through my body, and I have to cover my mouth as tears haze my eyes. It’s so beautiful: ivory lace and silk. I take it out and keenly examine it. I guess I’m trying to find a fault, but I can’t because it’s perfect. I smile ear to ear, looking at Sara.
“Well, let’s get you into it then.”
Sara fastens the tiny cloth buttons that start at the base of my neck, and go right down to my waist. It’s a high neck design with long lace sleeves. The skirt is slim line silk, with the same intricate patterned lace, overlaying the entire dress. I love it so much. It’s elegant yet simple.
“Can I ask you a question?” I say, looking at Sara in the mirror. “Has this ever happened before?” She looks up at me. “You know, this kind of wedding.”
“You mean warm blood and vampire?” One of her eyes grows bigger than the other.
“Yeah.”
“It’s rare. To want to spend eternity together, means just that, vampire and vampire,” she replies. “His position is one of the highest. So for him to choose you, must mean he had to grovel to The Order, and then some. You were once a Red, so Adrien must have given exceptional circumstances to get you out of that, so he can marry you.”
I exhale in confusion. I thought that contract didn’t mean a thing.
“That contract was disregarded wasn’t it?”
She rolls her eyes, annoyed by my curiosity. “You know why he chose you to be his Red, Elizabeth. He wanted to drink you. Keep you human. His possession. I warned you about that room. It’s the ultimate high for them, to love and feed off the living,” she says. “But I saw how you got to him; he needed you to be more. I knew it would kill him if he fed off you.”
“So you went through the same thing with Laurie… you loved him?”
Jeez Liz, what a time to bring that evil dick up.
“Wow,” she sniggers in anger. “You should learn when to shut your mouth. It’s going to get you into trouble one day.”
I bite my lip and shrug. “Sorry.”
She blinks slowly. “I did… once. He was charming and gave me anything I wanted. Then I signed the veil agreement,” she murmurs. “He was grooming me. All those sweet intentions of his were a lie. What happen to me and you that night, happened to me every day for a month… until Adrien found me.”
“Sara… I’m sorry for bringing it up.” God, I feel like shit now. “One more question?” I stare, pushing my luck.
“Go on,” she moans.
“What did The Order say about us?”
“An Executive does not divulge Order details with no one,” she replies. “He knows what he’s doing, and the coven will serve him no matter what.” She stands up straight. “Now, all done.” She brushes her hands together, eyeing me up and down.
I turn to the mirror and fill my lungs. The dress is my dream dress, and I can’t help but shed a tear. Sara calls through to the shop to tell Mum and Cate I’m ready. I run my hands down over my hips, and see Mum blubbering in the reflection. With a teary gaze, I smile triumphantly.
“I was so wrong,” Cate beams. “Adrien should keep his money. You look so beautiful, Liz.”
Mum can’t speak, which is a first. She pulls a tissue out from a silver box for bawling brides, and sniffs into it.
The reality is now kicking in. On the 28th of June, I am going to become Mrs Elizabeth Knight. And yeah, I’m nervous. Excited nervous.
Chapter 4: Moving On
Liz
I scuttle around the stacked boxes in my bedroom, all packed up and ready for the big move. With less than two weeks to go until the wedding, I’m taking the first commitment plunge, and moving in with Adrien, permanently.
Strange as it sounds, it completely escaped me that we would eventually have to live together. Being busy at work, and with the wedding, my mind kind of shuts down during any free time I have. I’ve settled into a routine of seeing Adrien in the evenings, staying over at The Shard several times a week. He loves to feed me, not only with food, but also my sexual appetite, and I treasure that time together. It was during one of our passionate hard sessions, that he made his first demand of me. I had no say. He told me I’m his, and I’ll be moving in with him as soon as he could make the arrangements. I wasn’t going to argue, not with my ankles locked around the back of his neck. I completely succumbed to his orders.
He’s been away for the last few days. In fact, he’s been on business quite a lot recently. But I suppose with the big shift in detail, handing over the reins to another chosen Executive, he has a lot of work to do.
My phone beeps on the bedside table. I kick a box out of my path and sit on the bed. It’s from Adrien.
Adrien: Elizabeth, I need you to text me back right away if you have received this.
I scowl at the screen and tap on the thread.
Me: Yep, I’m here, what’s wrong?
I send with the impression there has been some kind of disaster happen, for him to send me a rare text message.
Adrien: Good, I have a huge problem that must be dealt with ASAP! ;D
Okay, is Mr anti-text-message, trying out his sexting skills on me. Smiley face, and the word huge, brings one thing to my mind.
Me: Ok, and what can I do to help make this problem go away?I giggle as I send.
Adrien: Well, it will require a good firm grip of the situation. It requires kneading out. Is this something you’ll be able to get a handle of, Elizabeth?
I chuckle to myself. It’s not all it’s cracked up to be this sexting. Adrien speaking raunchy to me, is much better, and more effective, face to face.
Me: U have no idea how well I’ll be able to cure your hard problem
;)
I wait, eager for his reply. He’s either thinking of what to send because he’s no match for me at this game, or he’s been called away.
Adrien: I’ll pick you up at 7pm Elizabeth. By 9pm at the latest, I’ll be needing your body. Be ready.
I’ve just about done. All five boxes of my worldly belongings are taped up, my bed has been stripped, and all my clothing packed into my suitcase.
I straighten up, blowing my hair from my face. I know I can’t avoid her forever. Cate. When I came home from work early, she was moping around the flat like her world was coming to an end. But I’m getting married, and she needs to understand, I can’t stay here forever. My new address is going to be penthouse thirty-three, The Shard.
I swallow and make my way into the lounge. Cate hasn’t even took her denim jacket off yet. She’s sitting on the sofa, arched over, snivelling. Oh no, my eyes begin to water. I don’t want to be depressed today, but I’m going to miss her, and this poky flat.
“Cate,” I utter. “Do you fancy a drink?” I stay back in case she decides to pounce on me, and tells me I’m not going anywhere.
“Yes,” she whimpers.
It was an automatic reaction to nip into the off-license on the way home today. I knew she’d need a little pick me up. I take the bottle of German wine from the fridge with two glasses, and go to sit beside her.
I pour out two full glasses, and slide one across the coffee table for her.
“A toast,” I say, hoping she lightens up. “To us Cate.”
Absolutely the wrong thing to say. Now she’s lost it completely, and is sobbing on my arm.
“I’m sorry. I can’t pretend to be happy about this,” she sniffs. “Not that I’m not happy for you… it’s just that… that this is our place.”
“Cate, I’ll only be ten minutes away,” I say. “I’ll still see you all of the time.”
“It’s not the same,” she sniffles. “Who’s going to look after me when I’m hung-over? Who’s going to drag my ass out of bed for work? No more nights out. No more hair play. No girly chats while making cocktails,” she weeps. “I’m going to have to sit here on my own. Maybe I should get some cats.”
I giggle. “Cate come on. You’ll be fine. We’ll all be fine,” I rub her back. “We can still do all that stuff.”
She huffs then takes a swig of her wine. “First Nathan emigrates to bloody France, living the high life. And now you’re moving in with Mr Wonderful,” she sulks. “I’m going to have to marry Pete now aren’t I?”
God, I feel so bad. Everything I say to her is only a partial tale; a smokescreen to protect what Adrien and Nathan really are. Half-truths are not good when it comes to close friends. Especially when she’s looked after me for so long, and tells me everything.
“Look, I swear we’ll be fine,” I say. “I’m only a stone’s throw away, and we’ll talk every day.”
“Promise,” she splutters.
“Yes, of course.”
“Okay.” She sits up, composing herself. “A toast then, to your new life with Mr hot stuff.” We clink glasses and laugh.
I’ve moved all my stuff next to the door so it’s easier to get down the stairs. Adrien did ask me if I needed a removal firm. It was the most peculiar conversation, and he was annoyed by my stubbornness to do it all myself. When he gets here and sees just how much I need moving, he’ll probably tell me to leave it behind, or toss it all in the bin. But there are important keepsakes and photos that mean a lot to me. Junk to some, but treasure in my eyes. My life before that charity banquet all those months ago.
Adrien knocks on the door, and right on time. Cate looks at me, sadness flowing down her cheeks. God, that’s it. I’ve held it together all afternoon, and now I’ve lost all poise as tears blur my view.
I open the door. Adrien presses his lips together, empathetically. I allow him to shuffle by me. Jeez, it’s so awkward for him. He doesn’t know what to do with himself, stuck between two over-emotional females.
“Right.” He blows out, rolling up his shirt sleeves. “I’ll make a start taking this lot to the car.”
He places one box on top of another, and lifts with ease. Cate’s eyes expand, watching him disappear through the door, carrying probably mine and her body weight combined.
“Wow,” she exhales, ogling animatedly.
I nervously smile. I mean, he’s the one who is all for keeping a hidden world hidden, then he goes and does that. He probably wasn’t even thinking about it. He wanted out, and fast.
“He works out.” I smile and cringe.
“And I can tell… Right, come on missy.” Cate pulls up the handle of my suitcase. “I’ll give you a hand.” I pick up the smaller box, and follow her out into the hallway.
The back of Adrien’s Land Rover is full. Now I’m standing in this weird phase of limbo, between the past and future. To me this is the end of an era. I know I’m doing the right thing. But hell, it’s scary starting a whole new life.
I wipe a tear from my cheek as Adrien goes to wait in the car. Cate grabs hold of me and squeezes.
“Now, I have told him, if he doesn’t look after you, I will make sure he has his bits painfully rearranged.” She pulls back and stares with wide eyes.
I chuckle. “I’m going to miss you tons.”
“Me too honey, but this is for you.” She shakes my arms. “The whole deal, so you enjoy it.”
“Thanks for everything Cate.” I peck her on the cheek and hurry into the car, before I breakdown and blubber.
Chapter 5: Our Place
Liz
“Where are we going?” I ask puzzled, noticing we’ve gone right by The Shard.
He indicates to leave the one way system and turns, fleeting a glance at me without a word. Something is going on with him. He’s fretting and behaving the same way he did when he proposed. It’s very rare to see him like this, tense and unwilling to give a bean away. He’s a go getter. If he has something to take care of then he does it, usually without hesitation. Austere, bold, and ruthless in business. So yes, right now, he’s making me nervous.
“Adrien?” I say in more of a demanding tone as we move by St James Park.
His jaw tics, lips pursing to the side, then he looks up to a period apartment block right across from Birdcage walk. He pulls in and stops outside the red brick building: Queen Ann’s Gate, as I eyeball him, wanting more clarity.
“Come on.” He unclips his belt.
“Where?” I ask too late, he’s out of the car, waiting for me on the street.
I expel a long breath, removing my seatbelt. Making sure my annoyance is known, I get out and make my way around the car to where he waits. I hate not knowing what he’s up to.
“Are you going to tell me what the hell is going on?” I peer up at the building as a warm breeze blows at my back.
He takes two keys out of his trouser pocket as I taper my eyes in confusion. He dangles them right in front of my face. Curling his fingers around my hand, he turns it palm upward, then places the keys on my skin, folding my hand around them.
“These are yours,” he says. “Black is for the front door and the other, well, you’ll see,” he winks.
“Keys?”
He smiles shrewdly. “Go on.”
I take in a breath and open the door.
We enter a great entrance hall with a white limestone staircase, and fancy wrote iron handrails. To my left there are two white doors with peepholes, and on my right three more. I exhale and peer up into his covert eyes, as he stands with his arms folded across his chest.
“Are you going to say anything, or is this like some cryptic challenge,” I smile a little, liking the cheeky glint in his eyes. “So, do I have to pick a door?”
“Look at your keys… the white fob,” he says.
I sigh in annoyance and fumble with the key. There’s a number 2 printed on the fob. I scour left and right, then see the correct door at the back of me. With a solid determination to get the answers myself, I l
eave him and head to the door.
I unlock, turning to Adrien for a millisecond. It’s just a door, but it’s like it has some naughty meaning, and such a simple task has put me on edge.
“What the…” I gasp as I open.
Jeez, this is a stunning apartment. Warm wood floors, high ceilings, with neutral colours throughout. The lounge and dining area are in one vast space, and the furnishings are contemporary with the odd vintage touch here and there. There are even two enormous crystal chandeliers, similar to the ones that hang in The Mill. I amble in further. I feel sick and apprehensive, with a happy disorientation.
I run my hand along the dark grey kitchen surface and glossy white cupboards. I rotate and see a large oak dining table, surrounded by eight white moulded chairs. My fingertips brush over the chrome faucet of a large deep rectangular sink, as my view falls by a large white sofa, and onto a floor to ceiling shelving unit, which encases a huge television. I close my eyes, nod, and re-open. It’s all still here; the perfect dream home.
Adrien has a satisfied smile on show. God, I don’t know what to think right now, or what I should feel? I need to hang onto the thin thread of independence I have. There was a little thought in my mind, that he was just showing me one of his new renovation projects. But now he’s staring at me, waiting for my response, I know it’s much more than that.
“This is a tad more than a car, Adrien.” I don’t want to sound ungrateful, but know I do.
“No, this is home. Your home.” He closes the door and puts on the latch.
“My home,” I pout.
“What seems to be the problem, Elizabeth?” He’s not getting the reaction he wants out of me, and those dominant dimples on his face have my skin burning.
