A Dance in Blood Velvet

by Freda Warrington

  “But I have no desire to meddle in anyone’s affairs. I wish others, human or vampire, felt as I do.”

  “How marvellous that would be!” Simon struck the desk. “No wars, no commerce, no art, no marriage; the human race would be dead in a generation. Impossible. Every time you feed, you affect someone’s life!”

  “Of course,” Karl said wearily. “Since that is the case, we can only exploit this situation to gain knowledge.”

  “You feel as I do,” Simon murmured. “Wisdom, that’s the goal.”

  “Aren’t you wise already?”

  “I’ve seen generations rise and pass away, and I have learned that true wisdom is to set yourself apart and simply watch. Isn’t that what we’re doing? And it’s a great deal more interesting than lying undead and mindless in the Weisskalt.”

  Karl heard light footsteps in the hall, and knew it was Katerina. The study door opened; her face appeared in the gap, her brows drawn together in worry. Seeing Simon, her expression brightened. She came in and kissed him before she kissed Karl.

  “Where’s Stefan?” said Karl, ignoring her blatant transfer of affection.

  “He can’t come yet,” she said. “He will, as soon as possible, but Charlotte needs him.”

  “Why?” Karl tried not to betray his concern. “Is anything wrong?”

  Katerina unpinned her hat and smoothed her hair. Then she sighed. “I’d better tell you. You will find out soon enough, and I’d rather you heard it from me. Charlotte has brought Violette into the Crystal Ring.”

  Karl had guessed she was going to say this. For a few moments he felt nothing, not even surprise. Then sorrow rolled in, like heavy black sand on a slow tide.

  Then she added, “I helped her.”

  “Helped? Katti, why?”

  She turned to him, passionately defensive. “Because Charlotte would have done it anyway! I thought that if she was so determined, perhaps there’s a deeper reason and it should happen. Fate, if you like.” Reading the dismay in his face, she said, “I’m sorry, Karl.”

  “Why be sorry?” he asked. “I didn’t forbid you to help her. You’re free to act as you wish.”

  Katerina sat on the desk beside Simon, her thigh pressed against his. She looked drained, and humanly distressed. “I am, but I believe you were right after all. Too late, I know. Violette came out of the transformation insane. She won’t feed. I walked out; I feel rather ashamed of deserting them, but I had to. I couldn’t watch; I’ve never seen anyone react so badly. They can do nothing with her. You knew this would happen, didn’t you, darling? Charlotte wouldn’t listen, but, my dear, how I wish I had.”

  Karl was silent. There was nothing to be said.

  “What will you do?” said Katti. “Will you go to her?”

  “No.” Aware that he sounded cold, Karl saw shock in her face. Strange, when Katti had disdained Charlotte for so long, that she now cared about her. “If I seem callous, perhaps I am, but I won’t help her. She wouldn’t want it, let alone expect it. Charlotte’s responsibility lies with Violette, and mine lies here.”

  “I wonder about you, Karl,” Katerina whispered. Simon touched her arm. “I wonder if you still have a heart at all.”

  * * *

  The last vampire to recover was Fyodor, a Russian with snow-blond hair and silver eyes. He’d switched from catatonia to glass-sharp reason in a moment, and had not stopped asking questions since.

  Karl had gathered them all into the parlour, which seemed too small to contain so much unnatural beauty. Even he felt uneasy among them. No wonder, he thought, we can so easily unhinge human sanity. Andreas and Katerina - by virtue of familiarity -seemed pliantly warm and unthreatening by comparison.

  Neither Ilona nor Pierre appeared, but Karl had expected nothing of them.

  In the glow of electric lamps and firelight, the vampires were luminous. Their shining beauty was magnificent and monstrous, lethal like that of venomous snakes or birds of prey. Karl studied each one in turn. Rasmila fascinated him; she said little but seemed so sweet-natured and cheerful, he could barely imagine her drinking blood. So lovely, the sheen of her fine dark face, the indigo-black hair falling to her waist... Her victims must love her, he thought.

  John and Matthew had been monks in medieval times. Now they believed they served the horned Devil that had afflicted their mortal lives. Their existence was a struggle to pacify their dark master, paying continual penance for their sins, terrified of the God who’d abandoned them. Thin, rarefied creatures, they seemed too frail to survive the modern world. Their crime against Kristian, as far as Karl could tell, was refusal to accept his belief that God and Lucifer were the same being.

  Fyodor, by contrast, believed in nothing but the glory of what he was. He was exuberant, heartless, mocking. His colouring, in contrast to his personality, was ethereal; ivory skin, white-blond hair, irises of bleached silver. Andreas had taken an immediate dislike to him, and Karl understood. I don’t think Fyodor is very different from the man he was in life, he thought. Cruel, even obnoxious. Fyodor was talking to Rasmila, but she only listened, smiling.

  Katerina’s friend Rachel sat apart in a corner; a siren, combing her hair. Slender and translucent, with her fiery hair she would not find it easy to pass as human. Like me, Karl thought, she wishes to be left in peace; that, too, was her only crime against Kristian.

  The tall African, Malik, still hadn’t spoken, although he seemed fully aware. Now he sat playing chess with Simon. His mind is sharp, Karl thought, so perhaps he simply feels no need for human chatter. His face was long and sedate, like an ebony sculpture. A wonderfully striking figure - but how he must terrify his prey.

  Karl trusted none of them.

  Even Simon, who seemed reasonable and helpful, might have hidden motives. A red-gold creature with the tawny eyes of a lion, Simon could have been taken for a war hero. An unfortunate weapon of seduction, Karl noted.

  Extraordinary, he observed, how swiftly most of them were adopting the speech patterns and behaviour of the present day. This was vampire camouflage at work, of course. Yet, like Karl, they all retained an old-fashioned quality that fascinated humans, playing disastrously on their love of mystery and nostalgia.

  As they waited for Benedict, Karl murmured to Andreas, “I wonder why we felt the need to heal them? They feel no loyalty to anyone. No mortal would thank us for this. They - we are a plague on mankind.”

  “But mankind created us,” said Andreas. “So you’ve been saying. We were transmuted by the touchstone of their dreams and desires. So why feel guilty about anything we do to them?”

  “It’s too easy an excuse to say, ‘Humans want us.’”

  “Do you want to save the little darlings from themselves?” Andreas sneered. “Whether mortals asked for us or not - they’ve got what they deserve!”

  Benedict entered at last; he was clearly on edge, but alight with energy. He brought Holly with him, keeping her close with his arm around her shoulders. The aroma of her fear and the rapid pulse of her blood caused a tangible stir among the vampires. Even Karl responded. They all rose to their feet, facing Benedict -their saviour and captor.

  Ben cleared his throat. “Well... I would like to begin.”

  “We’ve been waiting,” said a hostile voice; one of the monks, John.

  “They won’t give you an easy time,” Karl said, moving to Ben’s side. Then he addressed the others. “Benedict is an adept who can see and control the Crystal Ring. I suggest that we all treat him with respect.”

  “Thank you,” said Benedict, standing taller. “You are powerful beings, but so am I. Don’t let us underestimate each other. I summoned you and I can control you.”

  “We know,” said Rachel, “but will you treat us with equal respect?”

  “I have the utmost respect for you! Haven’t I saved you from starvation and exile?”

  “Kristian’s death released you,” said Karl. He’d told each vampire individually; some had reacted with joy, others as if th
ey couldn’t take the news in. “If not for Ben, however, you might still have been stranded.”

  “Wonderful to be alive again!” exclaimed Fyodor. “And to hear that Kristian is gone - but now you tell us we have a human in his place? This is a lamb trying to rule wolves!”

  “I am not appointing myself as your master,” said Ben. “I summoned you to help me against a dangerous enemy. I’d rather ask for your help than demand it.”

  “Vampires do not help their prey,” Rachel said crisply.

  Murmurs of agreement. Karl, Simon and Katerina looked at each other.

  “We must be allowed to go our separate ways,” Rachel went on. “Let us go.”

  Colour rose in Ben’s face. “I cannot.”

  “At least hear Benedict out,” Karl said reasonably.

  “Yes, listen to him,” said Simon. “We must reach an agreement. In Kristian’s absence there will be anarchy unless we find a new leader.”

  John’s companion, Matthew, said, “Are you suggesting that we make this whey-faced man a vampire and let him rule us?”

  “No, of course not,” said Karl, giving Simon a dark glance. “If anyone wants another Kristian - in my opinion they are insane, but I won’t deny them the right to their belief. If any of you want that, return to Schloss Holdenstein; Cesare and others are still there, waiting for a new leader because they lack the imagination to decide their own destiny. Does anyone wish to go back?”

  A brooding silence. No one wanted that. Karl added, “However, I believe we face a genuine threat. We should co-operate.”

  Rachel said, “Vampires aren’t meant to help each other. We’re predators, not Samaritans.”

  “I won’t accept this.” Matthew stepped forward, his small hard face full of hatred. “This Benedict is from the Devil, like Kristian, sent to test us.”

  And he rushed at Benedict, hands outstretched. Holly gasped and pulled away, Karl and Simon moved to intercept him - but as the monk reached Ben, he vanished.

  Ben’s eyes were closed, one hand raised and so taut that the tendons bulged. In front of him a column of air turned cloudy with frost feathers, and Karl saw the faint form of Matthew, suspended between Earth and the Crystal Ring. He was plucking at his throat, choking, his eyes round and swollen. His fingernails broke the skin as if trying to reach inside his own flesh to break the invisible chain...

  Stunned silence held the other vampires. Seconds passed, then Matthew solidified and collapsed at Ben’s feet. A rash of blood-beads encircled his neck. Karl had a ghastly vision of the unseen chain tightening like a garrotte until it severed his head.

  “Stop!” Karl cried. He seized Ben’s shoulders, felt a jolt like an electric shock. “Stop.”

  Benedict’s unholy strength dissipated. He slumped suddenly, and left Matthew writhing on the carpet. The others were motionless, tangibly shocked.

  Fyodor turned on Karl, face distorted with fury. “How can he have this power?”

  “Apparently he can project his mind into the Crystal Ring,” said Karl. “If he controls its fabric, he controls us.”

  “This is nonsense!” said John, on his knees at Matthew’s side.

  “Then furnish us with a better explanation, if you can.”

  John said, “He is from the Devil!”

  Andreas laughed out loud. Benedict said, “Lucifer gave me power over his own minions, is that it? No. Karl is correct. I’ve achieved this through mastery of my own will; that’s what magic is. Will. I know it’s hard for you to accept, but try to understand. I need your help. I insist on it.”

  “But this is wonderful!” Fyodor exclaimed. “You are dangerous and mad! How can we say no?”

  Karl raised his hands to quiet them. “Ben, you had better let them go.”

  Ben stared at Karl. “What are you saying?”

  “Rachel is right, we are solitary creatures. Yes, you have power over them, but how far does it extend and how long will it last? If you force them to stay against their will, you will make enemies for all time. You’ll never sleep again.”

  “I need them.”

  “And perhaps they need you - but give them a choice.”

  Ben bowed his head. Holly’s eyes were fixed on Karl, shining with gratitude. Then John said, “I would rather die than do a mortal’s will.”

  “Go and die, then!” Andreas exclaimed. “God Almighty, I’m sick of this bickering! I wish you’d all stayed in the Weisskalt, you miserable ungrateful bastards!”

  He marched out of the room, followed by baleful stares. Ben said aridly, “Nice to know someone is on my side.”

  Fyodor said, “What case can you present for us helping you?”

  “My enemy, Lancelyn, has summoned three supernatural spirits - or more, for all I know - which are dangerous to vampires and humans alike. It’s in your interest to help me find out what they are, and defeat them.”

  “It’s true,” said Karl. “Andreas and I have both been attacked by them. If you think Benedict is your enemy, you are wrong. Lancelyn is more dangerous. But what are these shadow-vampires? Does anyone know?”

  Silence. Then Matthew whispered. “They are from Satan and cannot be fought.”

  Rachel said, “We don’t belong here, caged. That was Kristian’s mistake, trying to make us a flock as if we’re all the same. I want solitude.”

  She spoke Karl’s own thoughts.

  “All right,” Benedict said finally. “Go. I relinquish my power over you. Stay only if you want.” He exhaled heavily and closed his eyes.

  He’s acted bravely, Karl thought. If any vampire tried to attack Ben now, Karl was ready to defend him - but no one moved.

  A collective sigh rippled through them, a release of tension. Karl heard John murmuring to his companion, “No, Matthew. Satan sent Benedict, so we must aid him and appease our master.”

  Matthew’s eyes were closed in pain, his voice thick. “Yes. Yes.”

  Ignoring them, Rachel smiled at Benedict. “However,” she said, “now you have so graciously granted our freedom, I am prepared to help - on the condition that once the threat is removed, you let us go.”

  Hope flashed in Ben’s eyes, but his tone was cautious. “You are already free. So, you will stay, after all? What about the rest of you?”

  Karl’s gaze moved over them; Malik nodded sombrely, John and Matthew had already made their decision, however spurious their reasoning.

  “I can’t resist,” said Fyodor, laughing.

  “Rasmila?”

  “I want to help, yes,” Rasmila said, inclining her head with a charming smile, light sliding on her blue-black hair.

  “We all want to learn about Lancelyn and his friends,” said Simon.

  “We wanted to be given a choice, that is all,” said Rachel.

  Katerina smiled approvingly at her and added, “It certainly took enough effort.”

  Ben gave Holly a reassuring hug, but she did not look reassured.

  “You were right, Karl,” he said. “I’m grateful. I would rather have you all here of your own free will than under coercion.”

  “You took a risk, Benedict. That was brave,” said Karl.

  “Thanks,” Ben replied grimly.

  Fyodor tilted his head, his mouth a papery silver line. “Tell me where your enemy is and I’ll suck his heart dry. All your problems will be over, no?”

  “No,” Benedict said emphatically. “It’s not that easy. First we must find him. Then I want to disempower him, not take his life.”

  Fyodor shook his head in disgust. “You don’t know where he is?”

  “No, but I will find out. If you’ll excuse us?” Ben took Holly’s hand, but Karl touched his arm.

  “The last thing you want is Lancelyn’s death, isn’t it?” Karl said quietly. “You won’t admit it, but what you truly want is to prove a point. But if this escalates beyond your control and Lancelyn dies... how will you face the consequences? Or if you die - what about your wife?”

  Ben’s face froze. He said tightly
, “If we sit around asking such questions, we’ll get nowhere.” He walked to the door, but as he made to pull Holly with him, she staggered and swayed.

  “They’re here,” she said. Her face was blanched and she gasped for breath.

  “Take her upstairs,” said Karl.

  “No,” she rasped. “Lancelyn’s shadows are already here.”

  Karl and Katerina looked at each other, then at Ben’s stunned face.

  “There’s nothing here,” Katerina said soothingly. “If there was, we’d know.”

  * * *

  When Andreas left the meeting, he went into Ben’s study and slammed the door. He was sick of the other vampires; sick of everything. He wanted to be alone in the leather-scented darkness; he also hoped Katerina would follow, so he could vent his feelings to an audience. She did not.

  As he closed the door, he realised he was not alone. A lamp shone, and in the far corner, reaching up to take a book from its shelf, was a slim figure in red crushed velvet: Ilona.

  She turned, replaced the book, smiled. “What’s wrong with you?” she said. “Got out of your coffin on the wrong side?”

  “Everything’s wrong. All of them in there, with their stupid arguments, mysteries, ridiculous attitudes.” He leaned on Ben’s desk with braced arms.

  “I know, I was listening. Why do you think I didn’t come in? But I’ve seen those shadow-creatures myself. I’m not closing my mind, unlike Pierre. We may not need the help of these fools, but we must find out -”

  “I don’t need a lecture from you, of all people. I hate this existence.” He turned his back on her, but she came up behind him and placed a long, fine hand on his shoulder.

  “I’m not lecturing. Hate it, h’m? Would you rather be back in the Weisskalt than standing here moaning? I don’t think so.”

  “Why not?” Andreas said, sweetly acidic. “The Weisskalt’s cold, Katerina is cold; what’s the difference?”

  “Ah.” Ilona moved in front of him. Lamplight gave her hair a red halo. “Tell me.”

  “Katti is offended because Karl refuses to resume their relationship. So she punishes me.”

  “But it isn’t your fault. It’s his - not to mention Charlotte’s.”