Our Destiny Is Blood

by Clare Daly

  ‘Take the good that comes your way, Sasha. The plan is set for tomorrow night and you met a girl today and fireworks happened,’ she said casting her hand dramatically through the air. ‘Immortal or not, it doesn’t happen very often,’ she said.

  ‘I love you, Velle,’ he said.

  ‘I’m special, I know,’ she said wiping the last crimson drop from her lips.

  23

  Ms Rosev was watching Evelyn from the door as she tried to tie the corset, her hands twisted behind her back.

  ‘You need to hurry up, Evelyn,’ she said spitting the words at her. ‘Mr. Baker wants to address all the staff in the kitchen.’

  ‘Could you help me with this?’ she asked.

  She sighed wearily and snatched the laces out of her hands.

  ‘Lean against that chair,’ she said. She knew she’d regret asking, for she’d handed the woman a perfect chance to take out every bit of ill feeling she had towards her. She didn’t hold back, putting her foot up on the bed for traction and Evelyn was sure she’d never breathe again without pain. She tied the laces, satisfied with her part, and grabbed the dress from the bed, throwing it roughly over Evelyn’s head.

  ‘Say what’s on your mind, Ms. Rosev,’ Evelyn said, struggling to find her way through the folds of silk.

  ‘You’ve obviously made an impression on the master,’ she said. ‘Taken him in hook, line and sinker. When a man spends what he did on a lady as young as yourself, it can mean only one thing.’

  She pulled the material together, closing the tiny buttons that ran the length of Evelyn’s back.

  ‘You have it all wrong, Ms. Rosev.’

  ‘Don’t be so naïve Evelyn. Now are you ready, Mr. Baker’s waiting?’

  Evelyn held her satin covered slippers in one hand, catching up the hem of her skirt with the other. As they entered the kitchen, Mrs. Osbourne let out a squeal.

  ‘Oh Evelyn, you look like a princess,’ she said.

  Her gown was a midnight blue, with delicate lace cap sleeves that grazed the top of her shoulders. The fabric ruched across the bodice, clutching her waist, as swathes of silk organza fell to the floor. Pin curls framed her face, the headpiece magnificent in her sweep of dark hair. She had carefully applied rouge to her cheeks, and the softest pink adorned her lips. Mr. Baker smiled, impressed by her transformation.

  ‘Well done,’ he said, marking her excellence at a task, that in truth he probably doubted her capable of. ‘The Master will be pleased.’

  She winced and any feeling of pride in her metamorphosis vanished. She felt like a Christmas goose, glazed and oiled for the inevitable feast.

  ‘You look a million dollars,’ Michael said in an American accent, he could take off to a tee. He took her hands. ‘Really, you do.’ He leant in and whispered. ‘Don’t worry I won’t let him lay a finger on you,’ before squeezing her hand reassuringly. Oh God, everyone could see it but her.

  Ms. Rosev peered into a box that Mr. Baker had left on the kitchen table.

  ‘He’ll burn the house down.’

  ‘Please Ms. Rosev, just do as I ask and light them.’

  ‘I don’t even have enough candlesticks,’ she said.

  ‘I’m sure you’ll think of something,’ he said losing patience. He took a ladle, sweeping it through the large pot bubbling on the stove. Scooping some broth, he blew on the ladle before bringing it to his lips as a nervous Mrs. Osbourne watched him, ringing her hands in her apron.

  ‘I followed the recipe exactly,’ she said.

  ‘It’s perfect,’ he said, setting the ladle down with a cough. He turned his attention again to the group.

  ‘Right so, everybody listen well,’ he said. ‘This evening, there is to be an unusual gathering. It requires all of you to take extra care as you go about your normal duties. Tonight, the Master welcomes some unorthodox guests. Like him they have an interest in the occult and he will conduct a séance of sorts in the study with his guests this evening. Whether you believe yourself in such matters, you are required to take precautions. Mrs. Osbourne, if you will?’

  On cue, the cook handed out tiny glass vials of clear liquid.

  ‘Keep this on your person. It has properties that may help to ward off any strange elements that may spring up from tonight’s festivities.’

  Everyone held their vial, their grip tightening at its description. All except Evelyn who didn’t receive one.

  ‘I didn’t get one,’ she said.

  ‘No,’ said Mr. Baker. ‘The master said you will come under his protection.’

  She could feel their eyes on her. Judging her. Under his protection – what did that mean?

  ‘You can have mine,’ said Michael stepping forward. Mr. Baker shot out his hand to stop him.

  ‘No. We must do as he has instructed,’ he said, before addressing the group again. ‘If you are of a religious mind, you may wish to also wear a crucifix.’

  Michael snorted at the notion.

  ‘You have something to say Michael?’

  ‘No, Sir,’ he said.

  Evelyn knew they were clearly out of their depth. There was more afoot here than a simple reunion and she was to be right in the centre of it. Her gift may be tested again this night. The bell rang once in the hall and everyone jumped. Ms. Rosev didn’t move.

  ‘The master wants you to welcome his guests and bring them to the study,’ she said.

  She thrust Evelyn towards the door, the girl almost tripping over her skirts. Evelyn glanced at herself in the hall mirror, her reflection lit by half a dozen candles placed on the small French table. She would not be afraid and she steeled herself as the door opened to their guests. The first thing she saw was his face. She couldn’t speak. She could only stare back at him in disbelief.

  ‘Hello Evelyn,’ he said gently. ‘Aren’t you going to invite us in?’

  ‘Please, do come in,’ she said, stepping back to open the door fully. He took her hand again, the same tingle shimmying up to her elbow as he kissed it. She felt lightheaded and cursed the stupid corset pinching her lungs.

  ‘It’s good to see you again,’ he said.

  ‘You’re his brother,’ she whispered almost to herself, and she immediately saw the similarities between them. They had the same brown eyes and the same slight turn of their mouth as they smiled.

  ‘Forgive me. I enjoyed your company yesterday. I didn’t want to spoil it,’ he said sincerely. ‘I’m sorry if I’ve surprised you. Let me introduce you to my friends. This is Velle,’ he said.

  A woman in an immaculate red dress stepped forward. Evelyn thought she was one of the most beautiful women she’d ever seen. Her hair was as red as her dress, as were her ruby lips. Against her pale smooth skin, she looked like a goddess, her green eyes sparkling in the candlelight.

  ‘It’s so good to meet you Evelyn,’ she said her accent ringing far south of New York. ‘You are a beauty.’

  Evelyn felt her cheeks redden. The cowboy had removed his hat upon entering and he ran a hand through his brown wavy hair before he extended it to her. His handshake was firm but alarmingly cool to the touch.

  ‘It’s freezing out there,’ he said rubbing his palms together. ‘I’m Wade. It’s a pleasure to meet you ma’am.’

  The last man had hung back in the shadows after the door had closed, and he came into the candlelight now, his dark skin beautiful in the half light.

  ‘This is Lincoln, my dear friend,’ said Sasha.

  He shook her hand with a brisk downward motion and stepped back again, inspecting the high ceilings and glamourous surroundings of their host.

  ‘Forgive me, may I take your coats?’ Evelyn asked.

  ‘Hell, no,’ Wade said, removing his jacket and throwing it onto the banister at the end of the staircase. Velle linked arms with Evelyn as they walked to the study, Sasha and Lincoln leading the
way.

  ‘I do like to watch him walk, you know?’ said Velle mischievously eyeing Wade. ‘Isn’t he delicious?’

  Evelyn felt herself smile as she looked at him, but she couldn’t take her eyes off Sasha.

  ‘He didn’t mean to startle you,’ Velle said, as if reading her mind. ‘He just wanted to meet you, that’s all.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘The trick with this little soiree, is knowing which side you’re on. It’s okay if you haven’t picked yet but I can kind of tell which way it’ll go.’

  There was no sign of Vladimir. Only Mr. Baker standing like a sentry outside the study door. As they approached, he went inside. Lincoln gave Sasha an uneasy look. They were talking in low voices and Evelyn wished she was close enough to hear their exchange. Sasha put a reassuring hand on Lincoln’s shoulder, but he just shook his head at him. She was trying to work out what it was that made Mr. Baker offer up such precautionary notes.

  In the study, the scent was heady. The incense had been burning all day and it changed the air, weighting it with its properties.

  ‘God damn,’ said Wade as it filled his lungs. Velle gasped too taking a handkerchief to her mouth in protest.

  ‘Are we to be marinated in this?’ said Sasha to no-one. Their host was not here and he didn’t seem pleased.

  ‘Please take a seat,’ said Mr. Baker pointing to the long dining table and six chairs that had been set up at its centre. ‘You are to sit here Evelyn. Beside the master.’

  Did she need really need the master’s protection? From whom? Wade held out Velle’s high backed chair at the far end of the table. The smell had unnerved them both. They could tolerate it but they didn’t like it. He sat to her left and she took his hand.

  Evelyn sat next to Wade and across from them, Sasha and Lincoln waited expectantly for their host, his chair at the head of the table, empty. Mr. Baker stood by the closed door, his hands crossed. In the candlelight, shadows made shapes and patterns across the walls and ceiling, as if the room were a living thing, pulsating off the energies below. There was a dull thud, followed by the shrill noise of metal on iron, as Vladimir’s heavy footsteps descended the spiral staircase. He was using a cane, its silver tip reaching out to the step beneath him, striking the iron as it went. Sasha stood up. They all looked to their host who appeared slow and infirm.

  What was he doing? It wasn’t until she saw the large crucifix on a gold chain around his neck, that she realised there was no séance to be had here, no conjuring of spirits. No wonder he had seemed so interested in explaining them to her. While she had secretly searched his books for answers to her own condition, he had insisted that they look at the ancient myth of vampirism. She had taken it as a macabre interest but as he came down the stairs, she saw that he believed it with all his being. Vladimir slowly made his way to the table and resting the cane at his chair he embraced Sasha, throwing his arms around him, holding the embrace for a second before releasing him.

  ‘Brother,’ he said.

  ‘Vladimir,’ Sasha replied.

  The manner in which they examined each other, told of lost years and she wondered the circumstances for the distance. Sasha looked at the years etched on his brother’s face, the wrinkles by his eyes, the grey in his beard and through his hair. The older man meanwhile marvelled at his little brother, his smooth skin, glossy hair and his brown eyes, the same as his but with so much youth and life in them.

  ‘It is you, Alexander,’ he whispered.

  ‘You expected someone else?’ said Sasha.

  ‘A hoax was not unrealistic, but I see now it is you. Please sit.’

  Both men sat down, Vladimir resting heavily on the arm of his chair, labouring to lower himself in.

  ‘Alexander, you have met my companion Evelyn?’

  Sasha’s expression softened. ‘I have.’

  Evelyn wanted to correct his use of the word companion, hoping that it did not give off the notion of a romantic interest, when the door opened and Michael pushed in a serving trolley. A large silver bowl sat on top, its ladle slotted neatly into the lid. The scent of garlic wafted in and Velle started to giggle.

  ‘Soup. The weapon of choice.’ she said.

  Vladimir was not impressed.

  ‘I was not aware I had invited your friends,’ he said to Sasha.

  ‘I invited them,’ he said. ‘They’re my family.’

  He introduced them formally as Michael began to ladle the broth and Mr. Watson appeared by his side to take them to the table. He had to pull on Michael’s shirt sleeve when they were done, transfixed as he was with the unfolding scene and Evelyn’s part in it. When the door had closed again, Baker stood before it.

  ‘I wanted you to come alone, so we could talk,’ Vladimir began.

  ‘I’m listening.’

  ‘But you brought your friends, these creatures into my house and you have changed the very air we breathe. I will not have it.’

  ‘I may look the same but make no mistake, I am not. I will not stand to your orders.’

  Evelyn noticed his face change, a darkness creeping into his eyes and she felt it and knew its origin to be true.

  Vladimir unfolded his napkin calmly.

  ‘We must compose ourselves. I meant no offence, Alexander. Please, eat.’

  ‘No, thank you,’ he said looking at the bowl.

  ‘You don’t want some?’ asked Vladimir.

  ‘I appreciate the effort but my appetite extends to other more delicate tastes,’ he said.

  Vladimir’s hand crept towards Evelyn’s, his fingers crawling over hers, gently at first before his grip tightened.

  ‘There is much to taste here,’ he said, raising her wrist to Sasha.

  Evelyn tried to pull her hand away but he squeezed it, hurting her.

  ‘Stop it, Vladimir.’ There was no fear in her voice. If she had to, she would burn him but it would not do to show her own card too early. She let him retain his hold on her.

  ‘She’s beautiful don’t you think, and untouched,’ he said. ‘Just what your kind like.’

  ‘And how would you know that?’

  ‘I have made it my business to learn as much as I can.’

  Sasha was amused by this.

  ‘She is a tempting treat, expertly prepared but you can release her. I do not feed for pleasure but necessity and that necessity is borne of my hatred of the men instrumental to my death – you, Rako, Woltacht – and so it is in the blood of men I seek my nightly revenge. The girl holds little interest for me.’

  He looked down the table, to the steam lifting from each dish.

  ‘How little you really know, that you would think a little garlic effective?’ he said, dipping his finger into the bowl. He swirled it languidly before bringing it to his lips, licking it slowly.

  ‘And this?’

  He reached over and touched the crucifix around his brother’s neck. Vladimir flinched as he took it reverently in his hand, before closing his fist around it. When he released it, a misshapen orb hung from the chain.

  ‘You may find your homework a little short on fact,’ he said.

  Vladimir slowly released Evelyn’s hand. With her role so clearly defined by her master, she felt foolish. Trussed up for a blood feast, a sacrifice. For what, to appease his brother’s hatred? She noted that Vladimir did not appear disturbed by his failings so far. He looked smug even, as if he held a secret inside and would let it out at a time of his choosing. He certainly didn’t seem to be afraid of his brother or his friends, even though they outnumbered him. He was clearly waiting for Sasha to make his next move.

  ‘Was that the plan all along? To get me to Castle Valla so you could give me to him?’

  ‘No, of course not,’ he said. ‘We were both to go. Both of us to have this life that you now so beautifully possess.’

  ‘You lied to
me. There never was a treasure to find.’

  ‘Wasn’t there? Look at you.’

  ‘There is no beauty in what happened after he took me. No-one would choose that.’

  ‘You get to live forever Sasha. You are stronger and more powerful than any human. You ought to thank me for it.’

  Sasha shot his arm out. His hand clamped around his throat, firm but not enough to do damage.

  ‘What did you get for your part in it – this house, your wealth?’

  He let go. He was restraining himself and Evelyn wondered just how strong he really was.

  ‘It is between you and I only. This is our business, not theirs,’ Vladimir said. ‘Perhaps Evelyn can keep them company should they need to feed or are they as fussy as you?’

  ‘Evelyn, you have nothing to fear from us. We are not the ones putting your life in danger here,’ Sasha said.

  ‘How very chivalrous of you. You have grown up, little brother. You have finally stepped out of my shadow.’

  ‘Don’t patronise me. I saw your face as he took me and do you know what I saw? Relief,’ he said. ‘My brother, my protector and you just stood there as they gave me to him.’

  ‘I begged Rako to release you, I did.’

  ‘Then, why didn’t he? You had so much money. You could have bought my freedom.’

  ‘He requested you. That’s what I was told.’

  ‘Rako?’

  ‘The creature. He asked Rako for you specifically.’

  ‘You’re lying. Why would he do that?’

  ‘He saw through us, through me. He saw the lie. I don’t know how, but he knew I wanted it and who had put me up to it.’

  ‘You could have warned me but you didn’t. You knew and you left me to him.’

  ‘I begged Rako to send me after you.’

  ‘Don’t lie to me,’ he screamed. ‘All the time you lie. Did you even feel remorse?’

  ‘Is that what you came for, an apology?’

  Sasha stood, as if in doing so he could quell the physical urge to hurt him. He needed to dispense his energy elsewhere. He paced around the back of his chair and gripped the wood.