Ben made a decision. It meant following the Left-Hand Path and never turning back, but, grimly, he made it.
He bent over Andreas and said, “I’ll make a bargain with you.”
“Anything.”
“Suppose I take you out and find you someone to feed on. Is that what you want?”
The reply was a groan of pure lust.
“In return, you will obey me in all respects. You will feed on no one without my permission. You will answer all my questions truthfully. And if ever I let you out alone, you will return to me. Do you agree?”
The vampire nodded. Ben picked up the Book and thrust it under his icy hand.
“Swear on the artefact that summoned you! That will bind the oath.”
The vampire cringed and tried to pull away, but Ben held him in place.
“Einverstanden. Ja, I swear, I give you my word, I’ll obey you!”
As Ben released him, Andreas snatched his fingers from the cover as if it were red-hot. Shuddering, he sat up and edged away.
“No need for that! Why shouldn’t I come back? I’ve nowhere to go. Let me feed now and I’ll do anything for you. Please. I can’t think, can’t move. I want my strength again.” He saw himself in a piece of broken mirror and touched his own desiccated face. “God help me. Who did this to me? I can’t bear to live like this. Either kill me or let me feed!”
Benedict watched with curiosity. Not true, then, that vampires cast no reflection. He is truly in my power, Ben thought - or at least, he thinks he is, which is the same thing.
He felt a spur of elation. Perhaps the path of darkness would be easier to follow than he’d thought.
“Calm yourself, Andreas. I shall look after you. It’s the middle of the night, so we can go now, but you’ll need clothes... You can wear my greatcoat, and a hat is essential.”
“God in heaven,” said Andreas, staring at Benedict with contempt. “Do you think I am some brainless savage, happy to go outside stark naked?”
* * *
The days and the nights folded down one on another; Katerina grew in strength, yet showed no inclination to leave. Charlotte was beginning to suspect that she never would.
Each afternoon they sat in the roseate glow of the drawing room; Karl, Charlotte, and Katerina. Three unnatural beings in the shape of humans - still with enough humanity to love and to hate one another.
Before Katerina came, Karl and Charlotte had spent nearly all their time together. They separated only to feed, each preferring, for different reasons, to hunt alone. In the morning they would enter the Crystal Ring to rest; evenings were often spent at the theatre. But the long golden afternoons and velvet nights were theirs. They would read to each other, talk, listen to the gramophone; or Karl might play the cello, which Charlotte loved. Often they took long walks through the night-blue woods, or climbed the white flank of a mountain that no human could survive; or simply rested together in contented silence, hands entwined, needing nothing else. These times were as delicious as the savage addiction of their love-making.
Everything they did together was absorbing, timeless, lined with gold and tinted with gorgeous colours. Not a human world. No dull moments; no division between pleasure and pain.
But since Katerina arrived, Karl and Charlotte had not made love. They were too often apart, to ensure their guest wasn’t left alone. Karl even avoided sitting beside Charlotte as if he would not touch her in front of Katerina. Small consolation that he did not touch Katerina, either. This seemed diplomatic, to avoid either woman feeling rejected. But the distance he placed between himself and Charlotte made her feel she couldn’t speak or act freely in her own house.
After her initial attack on Charlotte, Katerina had apparently called a truce. She became polite and gracious - enough to satisfy Karl, at least. If he perceived the barbs concealed by her gentle words, he didn’t say so.
Charlotte found Katerina’s sweetness intolerable. So false. At least open hostility could be fought. Instead, she too must play the courtesy game; to do otherwise would only place her in the wrong.
Katerina’s disdain came through in subtle, sinister ways. She said nothing to cause offence; instead she was so kind and condescending that she left Charlotte feeling hopelessly inferior - precisely as if Katerina knew her dormant weakness, and deliberately set out to wake it. She behaved like the mistress of the house, Charlotte her maid. Their very temperaments made them slide into these roles. While Charlotte battled to keep her place, Katerina simply occupied hers, like a serene and smiling Madonna.
It’s obvious, Charlotte thought, that she means to claim Karl and usurp me. Why can’t he see it? But she’s a different person with him; warm, sincere, a dear friend. I could easily have loved her, in other circumstances... but that knowledge only twists the knife.
Karl and Katerina’s ease in each other’s presence was instinctive, effortless; torture for Charlotte to witness. They spoke openly of old times, excluding her. No doubt there were a thousand more matters they discussed only behind her back
And there was the strain of keeping her dignity. She mustn’t let Karl sense her jealousy, nor let Katerina think she cared.
For a time, Ilona came and went like a capricious breeze, all charm and cruel humour. She uttered venomous put-downs to Katerina that Charlotte longed to say but daren’t; Katerina only responded with unruffled gaiety. Neither would let the other win. If anything, they thrived on their animosity. If Ilona made a show of affection to Charlotte, it was to irritate Katerina. Charlotte despaired at their bickering, the way they used her against each other.
Yet Ilona had a more serious agenda. Questions about Kristian’s death, Katerina’s rebirth, shadows haunting the Crystal Ring. When Katerina refused to supply straight answers, Ilona lost patience and ceased to visit them. Despite feeling used, Charlotte missed her. She felt she’d lost her only ally.
If Karl was aware of these undercurrents, he seemed to regard the situation with sad detachment. He believed that everyone was responsible for their own behaviour, as he was for his; a philosophy Charlotte found noble but infuriating.
When she was human, Karl had been unobtainable; beautiful, mystical, so far beyond her that she hadn’t known how to reach him. Aching to touch him, yet terrified of what would happen if she did...
With cruel irony, the same feeling crept over her again. This time, though, the barrier between them was not Karl’s vampirism, but his attachment to a past she could not comprehend.
She thought, If Katerina really wants to get rid of me, she will. I should fight her, tooth and claw, but I don’t know how!
One night, to her relief, she came home and found Karl in the drawing room alone.
“Where’s Katerina?” she asked.
“Gone out to hunt and explore on her own.”
To her unspeakable delight, Karl came to her, kissed her, and drew her to the sofa. Just as if nothing had happened. She wasn’t about to argue; they sat together in the fire’s glow, hands entwined, her head resting on his shoulder, as they used to before the intruder came. Charlotte felt free to speak at last.
“It’s wonderful to be alone,” she said. “Able to talk.”
Karl’s eyes, reflecting tiny flames, became troubled. She’d seen that expression before she discovered he was a vampire; a look that said, I am keeping a terrible secret from you.
“You don’t have to be quiet when Katerina’s here,” he said. “She is not an ogre. There’s no reason for her presence to curb your freedom.”
“You wish we’d get along like good sisters?” Charlotte said flatly.
Karl half-smiled. “Of course.”
“You noticed, then, that we don’t.”
He didn’t answer at once. His gaze drifted unfocused to the fire. “I am sorry that you are both finding this difficult.”
“Have I said a word of complaint?” She kept her voice steady. “I did all I could to help, and I would have done more, if you’d asked. But you can’t expect me to be ove
rjoyed that she’s here. There seems to be one law for her and another for me.”
“You mean her victims? That was only while she was too weak to hunt for herself.”
“Yes. I know. I understand. But she can look after herself now, so why is she is still living here?”
She hoped to find sympathy in Karl’s eyes, and saw none. A touch of disappointment, perhaps, which hurt.
He said, “I don’t want her presence to distress you. The last thing I want is to cause you any unhappiness.”
Sudden anger boiled from nowhere. “That always was the last thing you wanted, yet you caused it regardless! First you took away my only defence against you, my fear - and then you took my heart, my virtue, my blood, my respectability, my family - and finally, my humanity.”
His face did not change. She could have struck him.
“But you are still here.” He stroked her cheek, turning her face towards him, his amber-crystal gaze intent on her. “Whole, beautiful, still completely yourself. What did I take?”
“Nothing. I gave everything freely. And I’d do so again.” Shivers of desire ran through her, even while she was furious with him for beguiling her so easily. “Don’t forget that!” she said fiercely. “Did Katerina ever give you so much?”
“It wasn’t the same, liebling. She was one of the three who made me a vampire; she, Andreas and Kristian. And, as I’ve told you, you have nothing to fear from her.”
“I think you’re wrong.”
The shadow fell across his eyes again. “She apologised for what she said when she first woke. She was not herself.”
“She hasn’t apologised to me. She is nice to me now only because you asked her. Isn’t it true?”
Karl’s only response was a slight lowering of his eyelids. His long, dark eyelashes concealed his irises.
“Don’t you see?” Charlotte went on. “Katerina behaves as if she’s your wife and I am her servant, and with such grace that I hardly realise what’s happening until it’s too late. She’s too subtle, too clever for me; I don’t know how to fight back.”
“There’s no need for you to fight her! It’s simply her manner. There was never any guile in her, not even with Andreas, who would have tried the patience of a saint.”
“Do you think I’m imagining things? That she’s perfect and I’m making trouble for no reason?”
“Your words, not mine,” he said. “But no, I don’t think it.”
“She’s different with you, of course. She sees you as an equal, takes you seriously. She treats me as nothing, a child to be patronised. I suffered it from my aunt and sisters all my life and I won’t tolerate it again!”
He touched her temple, brushing back strands of hair. How delicate his fingertips felt on her skin, warm silken ivory. “They had power over you, only because you let them. Don’t you remember how you overcame it - long before I made you immortal?”
Charlotte said softly, “Katerina means to take you away from me. I know you don’t want to believe any ill of her, but it’s true.”
“No. Dearest, try to forgive her. She has nowhere to go, no one except me.”
“She’s a vampire, not an orphan!”
“Kristian used to say, ‘Our Father is God and our Mother is Lilith.’ As they do not exist, clearly we are all orphans.”
“Oh, well, that is a beautiful answer! The very thing that makes her dangerous is the fact that she has no one but you.” Despair drained Charlotte of emotion and she thought, God, why do I feel so helpless? She turned to him, laid her hands on his chest. “Karl, I will be honest with you. I can’t stand her being here. I want her to leave. Please.”
He held her wrists, pressing her hands to him. She felt the warmth of stolen blood through his shirt, the lean contours of his ribs.
“I cannot ask her to leave, any more than I could you.”
Her breath caught raw in her throat. “Do you love her so much?”
“Yes. If you want honesty. But it’s not the same.”
“Isn’t it? How do I know you don’t take her to our bed while I’m not here, and drink her blood? You must have done so in the past!”
“Charlotte,” he said sadly. “I don’t.”
“But you’ve hardly touched me since she arrived. What am I supposed to think? You haven’t made it clear to her that you are with me. All I can see is that you refuse to choose between us.”
Taking her hands between his, Karl bowed his head, touching his lips to her fingers. He was still closed away. She knew he wouldn’t give a direct answer.
He said, “If I’ve done or said anything to make you doubt my feelings for you, I ask your forgiveness. But out of love, grant me this: don’t ask me to discard a friend.”
Charlotte could not answer. He kissed her, and as her lips opened to his, her anger dissolved into hopeless confusion. They were together, and talking. That in itself was such an exquisite pleasure, it hardly mattered what they said.
“Very well,” she acceded. “For your sake, I won’t ask. I understand your loyalty to her. But you know we can’t go on like this. How long?”
“I don’t know, beloved,” he sighed. “She hasn’t regained strength to go in and out of the Crystal Ring. She’s more vulnerable than she seems.”
“If I thought that was true, and she didn’t hate me so violently, perhaps I could bear her,” Charlotte whispered.
“Be patient.” And Karl himself was so patient that she could refuse him nothing. “It’s not a question of her vanishing from our lives the moment she recovers. It’s more complicated. We don’t know what changes Kristian’s death may have caused. If his passing woke Katerina, what about the other vampires he imprisoned? We must find out.”
“That could take years. If not forever.”
“I promised to help her find Andreas.”
Charlotte was silent, nurturing a small flame of hope.
“If she finds Andreas, will she be content with him? Or does she want you both to herself again?”
“Don’t,” said Karl. “Haven’t I reassured you?”
“Katerina’s the one I’m really afraid of. I can’t help it, Karl. She makes me go cold. She would get rid of me if she could.”
“No.”
“Believe me.” Charlotte stared languidly into the fire. “I never thought anyone could come between us, not even Kristian - until I met Katerina.”
“Not your Giselle?”
She looked at Karl in surprise. “What?”
“The first time you saw her, I thought for a few moments I’d lost you. You’ve been to almost every performance since.”
A cold feeling gripped her stomach, like the beginning of blood thirst. “And you were welcome to come with me, but you didn’t! I needed to escape to another world where the most important person was not Katerina. Do you blame me? I remember all the dire warnings you gave against growing too close to humans, but I’ve never met Violette Lenoir, and I don’t want to.”
“Beloved, I can only say this: stay with us. Don’t feel you’re being driven away. You are not. Be patient with Katti, because this concerns all of us.” Karl stroked her hair, and kissed her again. “Nothing can separate us.”
“Then don’t keep secrets. You used to tell me the truth, however harsh. Now I feel you’re telling Katerina but not me, as if you imagine I need protecting from... what, I don’t know.”
Karl’s pale, caressing hand paused on her cheek. “Very well. There is something else.”
He went to put fresh logs on the fire. Charlotte sat forward.
“What?”
“There is a faint possibility that Kristian might not be dead.”
Charlotte gaped at him, horrified. “That’s impossible! What makes you think that?”
“Because Katerina swears his voice woke her up.”
She shivered, despite the fire. “No. He’s dead. Do you think he would leave us alone if he’d survived? He died... and Katerina woke.”
While she followed a black strand o
f thought along its unwelcome branches, she was conscious of a larger reality; that she and Karl were communicating soul to soul again, that she felt loved and whole within the crimson-golden sphere of firelight...
Logs popped and hissed, showering sparks. A draught sent gold motes whirling everywhere as the door opened and Katerina strode into the room. She brought a swirl of cold air with her, a surge of light and life.
Charlotte’s mood fell like a dead bird.
“Still splendid, the world out there,” said Katerina, unpinning her hat and throwing it on a chair. Her dark hair gleamed, and her face was flushed from feeding. “So wonderful to see and feel again, to walk among people and taste their blood. Warm, warm. But I don’t like the fashions; how plain, how straight up and down they are. And those machines roaring about on wheels. How they stink! But it’s so exciting.”
She flung off her coat and sat down in an armchair, unbuttoning her shoes and rubbing her feet through her silk stockings. “I never knew such clothes for making a woman look as dowdy as a pauper, or as elegant as a Greek goddess. They look simple yet they’re so difficult to wear. Whoever thought of these appalling button-strap shoes? And I tell you, I am not flattening my breasts for anyone. They’ll be sorry, these women, when fashion changes and they’ve flattened themselves out of existence. Oh, but all in the name of freedom! What wonders that Great War has brought about.”
“Be glad you missed it,” Karl said drily, dusting ash from his hands as he turned to her.
Charlotte hated her for violating the mood. Little cold shadow, Katerina had called her, and at this moment that was how she felt. Here was Karl’s “dear friend”, radiating energy and joie de vivre; and all Charlotte had offered in competition was flat-voiced jealousy.
And all those unpleasant feelings, fused with the revelation Karl had just unleashed on her, made her ruthless. Ignoring Katerina, she pursued her unfinished conversation with Karl. “Why didn’t you tell me before?”
A Dance in Blood Velvet Page 12
