Letters To Elise: A Peter Townsend Novella (my blood approves)

by Аманда Хокинг

  “Why does this happen?” I asked him, kneeling beside a fresh grave I’d dug myself. We always buried every body we came across, whether we made them or not.

  “I don’t understand the question,” Ezra said, wiping the dirt from his hands onto his trousers.

  “Why do people always die?”

  “It’s as it is. As it should be,” he said, but the moonlight shone brightly on his expression, and I knew he’d asked himself that a thousand times before.

  “Everything dies.”

  “But we don’t.” I stared up at him, hoping he would have some response, but I’d already began the realization that my maker didn’t know everything.

  He was no more a god than I was, with no more solutions than I had.

  “We will,” he assured me, staring off in the distance. “Someday.”

  “But why is it like this?” I got to my feet, unable to contain the anger and confusion inside me. “Why do all these innocent people suffer? How can children, who’ve barely even taken a breath, die in so much pain? How is there so much death in this world, and yet we live on?”

  “I don’t know, Peter,” Ezra said. “But I’m afraid that the answer might be that you’re asking too much of this life. I don’t think there is a reason.”

  “Asking for a reason isn’t too much.” I shook my head fiercely and clenched my fists. “Suffering requires a reason.”

  “We’ve spent too much time out here.” Ezra lowered his eyes and turned away from me, walking towards the road. “The isolation is getting to you.”

  “What isolation?” I asked, following him. “I’m with you always.”

  “I’m not enough.” He quickened his steps, inciting me to hurry along with him. “I’m death as much as anything around here. You need to be around life.

  We’re going to the city.”

  “How will that help? Life is only a prelude to death,” I insisted. “Being around living vital people will only serve as a reminder that soon they will be still and motionless in the ground.”

  “Sometimes the best course in the search for the meaning of life is to busy yourself until you forget that you don’t know the meaning of life,” Ezra said finally.

  I wanted to argue further, but Ezra was impossible to argue with when he’d made up his mind. He’d become tired of my ever growing malaise and was determined to snap me out of it. Once we reached the city, he planned to find a boat to take us away from Ireland, maybe to England or France.

  We reached the city two nights ago. Ezra took me to a pub, which is the only way I’d know how truly hard this was him. Ezra kept his emotions to himself as often as he could, but when they became too much for him, he had to find a release.

  His best solution for dealing with a depression was to lay with a woman, preferably a human woman full of life with a warm body and pounding heart. I never asked him, but I suspect that he never bit a woman he took to his bed. To be with them was to pretend, for a moment, that he was alive, that he was capable of giving and receiving love with another being.

  In the pub, he ordered whiskey, which we both pretended to drink, but most of it ended up on the floor. Women were always enamored with Ezra, and two lovely girls joined us.

  The fairer of the two had her eyes set on the Ezra. She hung on his every word, gripping his arm with urgency, and she melted at the sound of his laugh. It didn’t take long before he was renting a room above the pub and whisking her up the stairs.

  Her friend would gladly go with me, but I didn’t have it in me. Being with a woman had never been quite the release for me as it was for Ezra. I stayed down in the pub, listening to the girl talk for quite a long while, but eventually, I left to walk the streets alone.

  When the sun began to rise, I headed back. We didn’t have much money, so I didn’t want to rent a room of my own. I waited on the stairs until the girl had gone before going into the room. Ezra was sprawled across the bed, contented and sleeping. I stole a thin blanket and made myself a bed on the floor.

  Ezra awoke early for the day with an extra bounce in his step. He was still convinced that being around people was the cure for what ailed me. He insisted that we go out to the market while the evening sun was still up, when the market was busy with shoppers and sellers. Seeing people laughing, bartering, living, would be good for me.

  I’d wanted to argue with him, but I thank the heavens that I did not. Letting him drag me out to that market was the best thing that’s ever happened to me.

  The streets were crowded, much fuller than I’d seen them in the small villages we’d traversed. The sound of voices echoed off the shops that lined market. Chickens and goats were aplenty, making their protests at being sold off for food.

  The smell of it was all overwhelming. The thin blood I’d been subsiding on was nothing like this, heady and pounding through the masses. It was intoxicating.

  People pushed against me to get where they wanted, their bodies burning like small flames. Children ran into me, shouting an unapologetic “sorry” over their shoulders as they dashed on to play some game.

  “See?” Ezra clapped me on the shoulder to draw my attention to him. “This is what life is about.”

  “A dirty market?” I asked with a wry smile, but I’d already begun to feel lightheaded.

  The combination of the sun, which tires vampyres, and the effects of the market were too much for me. I couldn’t hang onto my sense of hopelessness even if I’d wanted to.

  “We will stay in the city for a few more days,” Ezra said, seeing through my attempts at disapproval.

  Then I felt something, a sensation I’d never had before. Like a heat in the pit of my stomach pulling me. As if I’d had an invisible thread tied to me all this time that I’d never noticed before, and someone just picked up the slack and began to pull me.

  In the din of the thousand voices that filled up the street, I heard one clear as a bell. I turned towards it, not that I had a choice. The thread yanked at me so hard, it was turning me.

  “You expect me to let you have that for -” the voice was saying, that clear, perfect girl’s voice lilting with an Irish accent. But she stopped speaking when I turned around, when she saw me.

  I couldn’t move or breathe or do anything. The whole world fell away, and she was the only thing I could see.

  Her eyes were gray, like a heavy fog that blanketed me, and her skin was white as porcelain. Red flames of hair framed her face, and the pink petals of her lips parted as she stared at me.

  I could hear her heart above everyone else’s around her, even though her heart beat much softer and slower. She had the heart of a vampyre, and it sounded strangely exotic against the frantic beats of the humans. It sung to me, calling me to her.

  I don’t remember walking over to her. I’m not sure that my feet even moved. It was as if I’d evaporated into a mist so I could float through all the people crowding the street until I stopped in front of her.

  A cart filled with tomatoes separated us, and no gap had ever felt farther. We were only a foot or two apart, but I needed to be closer to her. The distance was terrifying.

  An old woman stood next to me, trying to push me out of the way to continue haggling over the cost of tomatoes, but I ignored her. I was immovable, like granite. I couldn’t go anywhere unless this beautiful girl asked me to go.

  I had never seen anything more lovely than her, and I doubt I ever will again. She was most painful to look at, like staring at the sun, because she was so perfect. She appeared young, maybe sixteen when she’d turned, and she was flawless in a way I’d never seen anyone, not even other vampyres.

  “Hello,” she said, her words barely more than a breath. A strand of red hair had fallen across her forehead, and she tucked it back with delicate fingers.

  “Hello,” I said, my voice as soft and weak as hers. She’d stolen all the air from my lungs.

  “My name is Elise,” she said at length.

  “Elise?” I smiled, knowing there had never be
en a name that sounded more beautiful. “I’m Peter.”

  “Peter,” she repeated, and my knees became weak at the sound of it. She turned back, breaking eye contact with more for an excoriating moment as she yelled back over her shoulder. “Catherine! Can you watch the cart? I have to…” She trailed off and looked back at me.

  “Will you walk with me?” I asked, filling in the gap.

  She nodded once, and another vampyre came over. Her dark hair was tied back in a braid, and she gave Elise and me an odd look.

  “Elise?” she asked. “What’s all this?”

  “Catherine, I have to go walk with this gentleman,” Elise said.

  Catherine tried to press her for more answers, but Elise didn’t have any. She stepped out from behind the cart and walked next to me. We turned down a street, moving away from the bustle of the market. She kept staring up at me, and I down at her, as if we were both afraid that the other would disappear.

  She turned into a stable, empty aside from a few horses. She put her hand on one of the wooden pillars, as if to steady herself, and looked at me. Her eyes were hypnotic, forcing me to look at them. With her, I had no willpower of my own.

  “Who are you?” she asked, almost in an awed tone.

  “I already told you. I’m Peter,” I said, hoping that would be explanation enough, and moved towards her.

  “Are you a sorcerer?” Elise asked and stepped away from me. She climbed up on a bale of straw, so she could look down at me.

  “No.” I ducked below the beam so I could walk over to her. “Are you?”

  “No.” She shook her head, and I noticed a small braid she had in her hair, keeping it back so it didn’t fall in her eyes.

  She reached up, hanging onto the beam, and her dress pulled taut against her bodice. It awakened a fever inside of me, and my whole body began to heat up.

  “How have you put this spell me on then?” Elise asked.

  “What do you mean?” I asked.

  I reached up, putting my hands on the same beam as her. My fingers brushed against hers, causing a jolt to surge through me. Her eyes widened, so I knew she felt it too. I leaned on the beam, so our bodies were so close they were nearly touching, and I breathed in the sweet perfume of her flesh.

  “This,” she said softly. “This is a spell, isn’t it?”

  “I don’t know,” I admitted. “If it is, I don’t care. I don’t ever want it to stop.”

  I leaned in, meaning to kiss her, but she jumped down off the bale of straw. She ran out of the stable, her dress flowing behind her, and she glanced back at me over her shoulder. I’m not sure if she wanted me to give chase, but I didn’t have a choice.

  I ran after her, and she sped up. I was faster than her. I easily caught her. I grabbed her wrist, gently as not to hurt her, and she stopped, whirling around to face me. Her body pressed into me, so I could feel how hard her own heart hammered in her chest. She stared up at me, searching my face.

  “What game are you playing?” Elise asked.

  “This isn’t a game.”

  She pulled her wrist from my hand and stepped back from me. “Just because I want to kiss you doesn’t mean we can.”

  “Why not?” I asked, and I made myself stay in place. I wanted to follow her, to be close enough to touch her again, but I knew that wasn’t what she wanted, so I stayed firm.

  “Because.” She stood up straighter. “I am a lady, and I have morals.”

  “Yes, of course,” I nodded, feeling the blush on my cheeks. “I didn’t mean to… tarnish you.”

  “Good, because you can’t.” She turned away. “If you’d like to walk with me, you can. But nothing more.”

  I hurried to catch up with her, and we walked slowly down the road. A little boy ran out in front of us, nearly into her, and she paused to let him pass.

  “You don’t know what this is?” Elise asked softly after he’d gone. She kept her eyes focused on the path in front of her, only occasionally glancing up at me.

  “You mean this… pull between us?” I asked.

  “Yes, exactly,” she nodded quickly. “The pull.”

  “No, I haven’t the faintest idea,” I shook my head. “My maker might know, though.”

  “You know your maker?” Elise looked up sharply at me.

  “Yes, don’t you?” I gestured back to the market. “Wasn’t Catherine yours?”

  “No, she’s a friend, more like a sister.” Her steps slowed a bit as we talked. “My maker was a stranger that my father paid to turn me, and then he promptly abandoned me.”

  “Your father paid him?” I asked, not hiding my shock.

  “We were dying,” Elise explained. “Both my younger sisters and my mother had already died. It was only my father and I left. The famine hit our family hard.”

  “So to save you, he hired someone to turn you?” I asked, and she nodded.

  “But he left me, alone with my father.” Her face darkened. “I had to learn how to be a vampyre on my own.”

  I remembered how I’d been when I’d first turned, and I could only imagine what a starving girl like Elise had done, alone with a human.

  “I’m sure my maker will have answers,” I said, hurrying to erase the thoughts on her mind. “Would you like to go talk with him?”

  “Not now.” She shook her head, and her hair looked even more like fire as it shimmered across her back. “I should be heading back to help Catherine.”

  “How did you meet Catherine?” I asked, desperate to keep the conversation going. I didn’t want to lose her.

  “Luck, really,” Elise smiled at the thought. “I wandered around for a bit and came across her. She lived outside of the city with a garden. She lived like a human, not that animal I’d believed I was, and she taught me how to do the same.”

  “That doesn’t sound bad,” I said.

  “It’s not, really.” She stopped, looking back towards the market. “I really do need to get back and help her.”

  “But we’ve only just met,” I said, and I’d already begun to panic at the thought of her departing. I didn’t know how I would possibly survive when she went out of my vision.

  “I’m sorry.” She shook her head again, and I knew she meant it.

  “When will I see you again?” I asked, and when she didn’t answer right away, I said, “I have to see you again.”

  “Tonight,” Elise said. “Where are you staying?”

  “We’ve rented a room above the pub,” I said.

  “Tonight then,” she nodded once to convince me. She smiled and turned away, running back the way we had come.

  This time, I didn’t follow her, despite how badly I wanted to. The thread around my heart tightened, squeezing it painfully, when she disappeared. My very being wanted to go with her, and I could barely breathe at the thought of being without her, even for a few hours.

  When I found Ezra, I immediately told him about Elise and the way I felt around her. It was more than emotion. It was something physical. My body craved hers, my blood yearned for her. I had to fight to keep my feet from chasing after her.

  Over a pint of whiskey we both pretended to drink, Ezra told me everything he knew about it, which wasn’t that much. He’d heard of stories of vampyres being bonded to each other. Something in their blood made them meant for each other. It was a physical reaction, something that pulled them together.

  He’d never experienced it before, so he believed it to be a myth. He didn’t understand the purpose for it, but he understood very little of why vampyres acted the way they did.

  Listening to me talk of Elise, he was convinced that this was the case with the two of us. We were bonded together, meant for each other, and nothing had ever sounded sweeter. I’d like nothing more for the rest of my life to start with Elise as soon as possible.

  Ezra tired of listening to me speak endlessly of Elise, her smooth skin, her fiery hair, her hypnotic eyes… so he sent me out with a pad of paper to write down my story of Elise.

&nb
sp; So here I sit on the stone by the pub entrance, scribbling all the things I can’t keep inside as I wait for Elise to arrive. Elise, my love, my true…

  August 17, 1852

  Dearest Elise,

  I hope this letter finds you well. My heart aches without you, but otherwise, this journey is setting alright with me. I’ll never learn to enjoy being at sea, but the boat ride from Dublin wasn’t that long, and I am grateful for that.

  As I write this, we’re not yet to London, but I expect we will be soon. The carriage is jostling us about a lot, so forgive the mistakes and the ink on the paper. Ezra is sound asleep next to me, and I wish that I could travel like him.

  Maybe I would, but I can’t keep my thoughts from my last conversation with you. It’s that you said this time apart would be good for us both that has me so terrified.

  I know this only because you feel as though I’m rushing things, but I’m not. We have only been courting for three months, that is true, but I am certain that I want to be with you for the rest of my existence. My proposal isn’t that strange.

  Eternity is a very long time, but I know what I am agreeing to with you. I lie awake thinking of you when I should be sleeping. Ezra complains because I say your name in my sleep, and it keeps him awake.

  We are bonded together, just as he says we are, and we both feel it. Why can’t you trust that I love you? I’ve done nothing to dissuade you of that, have I?

  Ezra and I bought the house down the road from you, so we can be near without being too near. I’ve enjoyed the few kisses you let me steal, and I never ask you for more. I respect your decision to wait until marriage, but that’s not what I am encouraging marriage.

  I love you, Elise. I love you, I love you, I love you.

  Nothing can part me from you, my love, not even this distance between us. My heart still belongs to you, the way it always has, and always will.

  I still feel your lips pressed to mine, taste the salt on them from the tears in your eyes as you kissed me goodbye. I assured you it was only a month to do business, to make our lives better, and you told me the time apart would do us both good.