A Taste of Blood Wine

by Freda Warrington

  "Ilona, have you nothing to say about this?" said Karl. "I don't believe you are content to be used as a playing piece between him and me. Don't you want to be free?"

  Ilona came to life at his words and pulled away from him, her dark figure gleaming with red and purple fire, the lacy false-wings wrapped around her like a cloak. "Don't you talk to me about freedom!" she shouted at Karl. "What freedom did you give me? What choice? Love! You make me sick, both of you. There's no such thing!"

  Then she turned and raced away along the thunder-grey slope, which rolled on itself and swallowed her into a glowing chasm. Kristian started after her but Karl leapt on him, caught him. They tumbled over and over through nothingness.

  "Run, Ilona!" Karl called after her, though he doubted she could hear him. "Hide from him!"

  He fought hard, but he was drained and Kristian's strength was overwhelming. In this unhuman form, the stronger vampire's skin was like glittering snake-leather as he wound his arms round Karl, suffocating. Kristian's power flowed out like the bitter scent of snow and woodsap. Karl lost his grip, all sensation went out of his limbs, and he felt the stabbing ache of fangs in his throat. Whiteness. Whiteness spread through him as the warm, viscous fluid that animated him was slowly sucked away. His hands and feet seemed to be sparkling like snow and his head had become a massive, dazzling halo… an hallucination. His eyes were closed and he felt the heaviness of sleep, bone-biting coldness, and beneath that, very distant, something nagging at him like a pebble to be noticed…

  Ah, terror. That was it. Remember to be afraid. "So… you're leaving me to the Weisskalt, at last," Karl mumbled through stiffening lips. "Whom will you find to persecute after me? I never thought you would admit defeat so easily… "

  The fangs came out of his neck like daggers, chased by a sickening uprush of pain. "Defeat?" said Kristian, his face swimming hideously in Karl's vision. "Ah no. You are mistaken. The game will continue a little while yet, and the conditions are still the same; you'll come to me in the end, one way or another."

  And he dropped Karl, and Karl fell. There was a period of total disorientation that could have lasted moments or hours. He didn't feel the impact, but slowly he became aware that he was lying face-down, spreadeagled on cold soft ground, the scent of damp leaf mould thick in his nose and mouth.

  He was on Earth again. There were red fungi nestling under the tough stalks of fern, a huge spider edged with light swinging between the fronds inches from his face. Karl stretched his arms, staring at the whiteness of his hands against the soil, the shirt cuffs and the dark sleeves of his coat. Human again; human-looking, at least. Is it really our bodies that change, or only our perception of them? he thought abstractedly.

  I saved my self… simply by reminding Kristian that it's a psychological victory he needs, not a physical one.

  With difficulty he pulled himself onto his knees. He was horrifyingly weak. The weakness was indistinguishable from the thirst, a nacreous aura that was in him and all around him, throbbing like a heartbeat. Through the haze he saw that he was in a wood. Dawn glimmered through the trees, and a few hundred yards away he saw the metallic glint of light on the long burgundy-red bonnet of a car.

  Despite Kristian flinging him carelessly out of the Crystal Ring, a subconscious mechanism had returned him to where he wanted to be. He could not return to Parkland Hall with this desperate hunger on him, but if he could only reach the car…

  Leaning on a tree trunk he hauled himself to his feet and shook the leaves from his coat. Something was moving through the undergrowth. A dog. In a flash of black and white it burst from the bracken and bounded towards him, then stopped dead in front of him, barking hysterically.

  Animal blood was no use to him. He looked up, saw a human figure standing by the Hispano-Suiza, gazing in his direction. Then he reached down to the dog, let it catch his sleeve in its teeth, and ran his other hand over its forehead. It fell quiet and lay down at his feet.

  Karl stepped over it and went slowly through the trees, his sight shimmering in and out of focus. The man by the car looked like a gamekeeper, dressed in rough tweeds, a rifle under his arm. His face was ruddy and weather-toughened.

  "Don't mind Sammy, sir," said the man. "He only bites poachers. Sammy, come here!" The dog ignored him. "Don't know what's got into him. This your motor car, sir?"

  "Yes," Karl said automatically, but a red aroma of heat was flowing from the man in waves. He could think of nothing else.

  There was nothing else. He moved slowly closer to the man, wholly caught in the enticing net of his warmth.

  "Odd place to park. I thought someone had abandoned her. Didn't seem likely, but—" He turned, found Karl leaning over him, and started backwards. "You all right, sir?"

  He must have looked horrifying to the gamekeeper. A bloodless, mindless creature risen out of the grave in the mists of dawn. But the man had little time to reflect on this before Karl struck.

  A brief scent of tweed and sweat and then the flesh broke and the blood flowed into his open mouth. The relief was so acute that he almost cried out. Heat to thaw the ice, glittering rain on parched earth. And life. Rich sensual energy filling every cell…

  As the flow slackened and ceased he came back to himself, let the man slide out of his hands to the ground. Karl had drunk him dry. He had not killed outright for years and a faint sense of disgust went through him. But he had been unable to stop and even now the thirst was not fully assuaged.

  It could take days, even weeks, to recover from Kristian's attack. Until then he would not be strong enough to escape into the Crystal Ring; he was effectively trapped on Earth. The thought was uncomfortable, but there was no danger… unless a human found him out.

  He dragged the stocky body into the undergrowth. The dog watched, hypnotised, all instinct to defend its master gone. Karl glanced back at it, then climbed into the car, taking his trilby hat from the passenger seat and pulling it low over his eyes.

  Given a choice, he would have driven to the nearest port and taken the first ferry to the Continent. But he dared not leave the Nevilles, in case Pierre came back. And there was Charlotte… how would she feel if he simply left without explanation?

  Yet it would have been better, in the end. If I don't leave her… He started the engine and steered the car onto the rain-dampened lane.

  He knew that Anne and David had witnessed events that were bound to have made them suspicious. It made things awkward, but it would not be difficult to give a plausible explanation. As a rule, vampires could make humans believe whatever they wanted. Perhaps, if he could salvage the situation, he could continue his studies in Cambridge as if nothing had happened.

  Until Kristian's patience ran out again.

  The thought depressed him. He felt exhausted, as if no amount of blood could revive him. Perhaps he should feed again before he went back, but the prospect held no allure. Charlotte was a shimmering presence in his mind; he wanted to see her, he wanted no one else.

  When he brought the car to a halt on the gravel half-moon in front of Parkland Hall, David Neville was standing in the portico. He raised his hand to greet Karl, but his open, honest face was serious, and his attempt to act casually was not wholly convincing. But let us play the game, thought Karl as he stepped from the car.

  "Good morning, David."

  "Morning!" David replied. "We thought you'd gone for good, old man; where on earth did you disappear to? My aunt's been worried."

  Karl smiled. "My friend had to go back to London so I offered to drive him. I'm sorry if I've been the cause of any anxiety. It was remiss of me to go without saying anything, but in view of his excitable state of mind, I thought it wise to take him off the premises as quickly as possible."

  "Well, I suppose you did the right tiling." David stood looking at him. "Must have been dashed embarrassing for you… "

  "Quite."

  Karl began to move towards the house, but David said, "I know you must be tired, but I have a favour to ask
you."

  "Of course. Anything."

  "Well, you know that Anne and I are having the old manor house renovated; I have a few decisions to make and I would appreciate someone casting an objective eye over the place. Would you mind coming up there with me to take a look?"

  "David, if you have something to say to me about last night, there is no need for a pretext. I am quite happy to talk about it."

  David looked startled, but Karl's apparent openness disarmed him. "Well—I did have it in mind to mention it, but I am on my way up there to see the workmen now and I'd appreciate your company. Chance to talk in private, clear up one or two things."

  In other words, you do not even trust me to go back into the Hall.

  "In that case, I shall be delighted to come with you," Karl said graciously. He moved towards the portico. "However, I have had a long drive, so if you'd excuse me for a few minutes… "

  David looked unhappy about him going back into the Hall, but there was nothing he could say without seeming ill-mannered. Oh, this English etiquette.

  "I'll wait for you," David said ominously, leaning on the side of the Hispano-Suiza, hands in his coat pockets.

  "I shall not be long," said Karl, thinking, How fiercely you love your family. Distrust is written all over you. Strange that you can be so wrong about me… and yet, so right.

  * * *

  Chapter Nine

  Into the Darkest Heart

  Charlotte stared at her reflection in the mirror; eyes rimmed with tired shadow, lips too dark against her drained skin. She pressed powder on her cheeks in the hope of disguising her paleness, but she felt desolate.

  Over her slip and stockings she put on a beige dress sashed across her hips, a long matching sweater, a rope of pearls. She brushed her hair until it was a crackling mass of gold around her shoulders, then did her best to smooth it down, pinning it at the nape of her neck and trying to tame the wisps that escaped round her forehead and ears. She was almost shocked to see how normal she looked; there was no outward sign of her turmoil, no marks of shame. But she felt fragile, as if the slightest blow would shatter her.

  Taking a deep breath she left the room, went along the corridor and knocked on Madeleine's door. She expected to find her sister still in bed but she was at her dressing table, half-dressed, brushing her short hair with aggressive vigour.

  "How are you?" said Charlotte.

  "I'm perfectly well, thank you." She sounded surprised to be asked. "Why shouldn't I be?"

  "You went so pale and quiet last night, after that man broke in… "

  "He didn't break in. Karl let him in," Madeleine said briskly.

  Charlotte cautiously went nearer to her, feeling a strange mixture of protective tenderness and excoriating guilt. "You hadn't seen Pierre before, had you… that evening you fell ill in the garden?"

  Madeleine put down the hairbrush, exhaled. Her forced brightness could not mask the pre-occupied gloom in her eyes. "I don't know, Charli. I thought I had… but I had such awful dreams after that night. Everything's muddled. David would go on about it, but I couldn't tell him anything. Don't you start."

  "You really should stay in bed," said Charlotte. "Perhaps you should see the doctor again."

  "No." Her manner shut Charlotte out; she would not be helped. In that, they were more alike than Charlotte had ever realised. "I only feel ill if people make a fuss. I'm quite all right and I don't want Karl thinking otherwise." She turned and clutched Charlotte's right arm with both hands, seemingly oblivious to the rumours about Karl and Charlotte, oblivious to reality. "He'll come back this morning."

  "What if he doesn't?"

  "He must." Madeleine's eyes were feverish. She looks obsessed, Charlotte thought with alarm. Like me? "And as soon as he does, I'm going to make him admit that he loves me. He's been such a gentleman, hiding his feelings all this time, so as not to upset Father. I won't stand for it any longer!"

  Dismay weighted Charlotte's heart. Whether he comes back or not—disaster. "Oh, Maddy, I don't think you should."

  "What do you know about it, Charli?" Madeleine retorted. "You've never been in love."

  ***

  By the end of breakfast, Elizabeth was not in the best of moods. Her whole family were out of sorts for one reason or another, and it all came back to Karl; beautiful Karl, who caused trouble and walked away smiling as if butter wouldn't melt in his mouth. Not that she could be angry with him. On the contrary, an affair with him would not have gone amiss, if only he had been responsive. Since he was not, she thanked God she was too experienced to lose her head over him. But these young girls, how they suffered. At least she had scotched the embryonic attraction between him and Charlotte… if there had ever been anything to it in the first place, which she doubted. Just a brief, gauche infatuation on Charlotte's part, she suspected, and Karl too polite to reject her. If he could be indifferent to me, Elizabeth thought, he must prefer his own sex. The problem now was to make poor Maddy accept that he had no interest in her, either.

  Leaving the breakfast room and crossing the upper hall, Elizabeth was startled to see Karl walking up the long red staircase from the front door. She had never doubted that he would come back, yet the sight of him arrested her. Just the graceful way he ascended the steps, peeling off his driving gloves as he did so; the way his dark expressive gaze met hers as he came towards her.

  He said, "Good morning, Lady Reynolds. Please accept my apologies for last night. I shall explain later but I am in a hurry and I need to speak to Charlotte."

  She stiffened. Why ever would he want to see her? "Surely I could be of more help to you, my dear?"

  "Not in this instance."

  She fished for an acceptable explanation, "Ah, scientific business?"

  He didn't answer. His manner was courteous, but there was a barely perceptible hardening of his eyes. "Please tell me where I can find her."

  She meant to challenge him further, instead found herself saying, "I think she's in the orangery." He thanked her and walked away before she could gather her wits to wonder what had compelled her to tell him.

  She waited a few moments, then followed him. Voices from the Blue drawing room; she paused outside, recognising Madeleine's voice but unable to hear what was being said. A minute or two later, Maddy came running out into the corridor, white-faced and blinded with tears.

  Elizabeth caught hold of her. "Maddy, what is it?"

  "Oh, Auntie, Karl—Karl—I tried to talk to him but he said—"

  "Hush, dear." Elizabeth gently pulled her niece back into the Blue room. "Tell me in a minute. There may be something we should see… "

  Through the glass doors in the Blue room they could see down into the orangery. Charlotte was sitting there alone, gazing abstractedly ahead, a newspaper lying unread on her knee. Karl was on his way towards her. As he crossed the tiled floor she looked up and instantly came to life. Her face transformed, she leapt out of the chair and all but threw herself at him. Karl received her in his arms and held her tight.

  Madeleine made a faint, disbelieving noise in her throat.

  "Not a sound," whispered Elizabeth. Her lips thinning, she moved through the doorway to the top of the stone steps, keeping Madeleine firmly at her side. They watched from above, concealed by a veil of foliage. If Karl and Charlotte knew they were being overheard, they were beyond caring.

  "I waited for you all night," said Charlotte. "I thought you weren't coming back."

  "I'm so sorry, beloved, but there was no way I could let you know. I had to take Pierre away from here."

  "Everyone was saying such awful things last night. I didn't know what to think."

  "It's very easy for people to misinterpret things they don't understand," Karl said gently. "I regret causing you such anxiety. And unfortunately I have upset Madeleine as well."

  "How?"

  "I will tell you later, my love. I can't explain now, I've promised to go to the manor house with David and he's waiting for me."

  "It'
s an excuse to ask you about last night," she said.

  "I know. So the sooner I set his mind at rest, the better."

  "Could I come with you?"

  "It's best if you don't."

  "But Father and I are going back to Cambridge this morning! What if we've gone before you come back? He's so angry about Henry, I'm afraid he won't want you to work with us any more."

  "Charlotte, you mustn't worry." Karl stroked her cheek with a tenderness that gave Elizabeth an unexpected pang. "I hate to see you so distressed. Believe me, I am coming back. Here, and to Cambridge."

  Then he bent and kissed her mouth. Charlotte responded, not with surprise, but with sensual eagerness. His hand cradled her head and she pressed herself against him, no stranger to his touch. A long, deep kiss between two people who knew each other far more intimately than anyone had guessed; two people who had recently become lovers.

  It took a lot to shock Elizabeth. If this had been Fleur or Madeleine she would not have been greatly surprised; she would simply have taken them on one side and given then some quiet advice. But to see Charlotte in Karl's arms roused her to disproportionate wrath. Charlotte was a creature she had never been able to control. She despised the girl's timid bookishness, almost feared the strange, stubborn soul that lay beneath. Closed away by shyness yet wayward, unmalleable. The only consolation was that she lacked the spirit—so Elizabeth had thought—to break out of her narrow life. Now to see her stepping so wildly out of line filled Elizabeth with resentment, the desire to crush her completely.

  Elizabeth felt Madeleine's whole body stiffen and tremble. Karl drew away reluctantly from Charlotte, kissing her hand as he left her. As he came back up the steps, he showed no surprise at seeing Elizabeth there, only glanced at her as he passed; an insouciant look, almost cold. He walked by them without a word.

  "Karl—" Madeleine started after him, but Elizabeth held firmly on to her.

  "Hush, dear." As soon as Karl had gone, she guided Maddy back into the Blue room. "It's a shock to me too, but let's be calm about it. I'm sorry you had to find out like this, but you might not have believed it unless you'd see them with your own eyes. I certainly didn't."