A Dance in Blood Velvet

by Freda Warrington

  When he stood like marble under her hands, she pulled back, angry. “You must have turned to ice when you were made a vampire!”

  “But how can I win with you, Ilona?” said Karl. “If I’d kissed you back, you would have been completely disgusted. And rightly so.”

  “You’re lying to yourself.” She walked away from him.

  “And you’re playing games. What is this? You want to prove that my remaining scraps of morality are a lie, and destroy my friendships at the same time? That would be two victories in one, would it not?”

  “Oh, damn you to hell,” said Ilona. “I thought we could work together, for once. I was wrong.”

  She vanished so suddenly that Karl barely heard the soft crackle of the Crystal Ring receiving her. He exhaled, weighed down by regret.

  Andreas’s hand touched his forearm. “I am sorry, Karl.”

  “There’s no need. She’s only behaving as she has always behaved, to punish me for changing her. I don’t know why I still hope for anything different.”

  “Katti and I miss you.”

  “What are you talking about? I’m with you.”

  “In theory only.”

  Karl turned Andreas to face him. The wounds Ilona had made were already healing, but he was still horribly white. Karl said, “Come here,” and they embraced, everything forgiven, nothing resolved. Andreas’s lean body felt ice-cold. “Are you so unhappy?”

  “I’ve been thinking of leaving you both,” Andreas said miserably.

  “Andrei, don’t.”

  “I wish you meant it.”

  “Go and feed. You’re freezing.”

  He kissed Andreas on the cheek; they looked at each other, not quite smiling, resigned. A scream arrowed into the silence; Holly’s voice, torn with agony. Then Karl felt the flutter of demonic wings all through the house.

  Andreas gasped. “My God, what was that?”

  Not answering. Karl ran into the hall and upstairs to Benedict’s room. There he found Holly in an armchair, Katerina and Benedict leaning anxiously over her.

  “I’m ready when you are,” she said, her light tone incompatible with her ghastly expression.

  Ben ground the heels of his palms into his forehead and moaned.

  “What has happened?” said Karl.

  “Oh, God. Holly, where are you?”

  “Leave her alone,” Katerina said briskly. “Give her a chance to recover, at least.”

  Ben straightened up, grimacing. “We’ve located Lancelyn,” he said grimly. “He’s at our parents’ house, Grey Crags. Good God, I can’t believe he’d go there! But no, it’s perfect... the bastard! There’s only my father left now. Neither Lancelyn nor I have spoken to him for years. It’s the last place I’d expect my brother to go - which is precisely why he chose it. A twisted joke. Karl, we have to assemble the others and travel there immediately.”

  Holly said, “Whenever you’re ready, little brother. I’m waiting.” She laughed. Her eyes were mindless.

  Karl looked closely at her. She was in a deep state of shock, possibly beyond recovery. Repulsed by Ben and his methods, he said, “What about your wife? You can’t leave her. She’s ill.”

  Ben turned on him, eyes ferocious. “D’you think I want to leave her like this? If she’s in Lancelyn’s power, the only way to help her is to stop him. I’ll get the housekeeper to stay with her, invent some story to cover myself, and tell Mrs Potter to call the doctor if need be.” He gazed helplessly at his wife. “I know it’s not good enough but it’s the best I can do.”

  “And if Lancelyn attacks her while you’re not here?”

  Ben drew himself up to yell at Karl, then his fury dissolved. “I can’t cover everything. Too dangerous to take her with us. I have to make a decision - and we’re going to Grey Crags.”

  Katti looked at Karl. “Well?” she said.

  “I suppose we have to go with Ben.”

  “If Lancelyn’s still there to be found.”

  “I’ve a feeling he will be,” said Karl.

  He touched Holly’s wrist, wishing he could soothe her. Yet as he felt the hammer of her pulse, desire for her blood surged through him. God, that rich dark pull... Karl dropped her wrist quickly and moved away.

  Vampires cannot help humans, he thought. How often do I have to be reminded? We can only destroy them. This is the one immutable law of the Devil’s maze.

  * * *

  “Well, why not leave immediately?” said Simon.

  Karl and Katerina had explained to the others, who received the news with pleasure, glad there was to be action at last. Fyodor and Rasmila flanked Simon, seeming too serene, too eager. Karl thought suddenly, They are all still an unknown quantity. I trust no one to guard Holly. This cannot end well.

  “There is no real hurry,” Karl said wearily. “Benedict says the house is near a small village north of Bakewell, by the Peak District. About sixty miles from here. He’s told Katti and me how to find it. We can travel swiftly through the Crystal Ring, but he cannot - and neither can Andreas. They’ll have to go by car, which will take a couple of hours at least.”

  “Well, we have time to rest and hunt, then,” said Simon. “I think we should, don’t you?”

  “Yes,” said Karl. “Benedict is getting ready to leave. We’ll meet outside Grey Crags as soon possible. It’s best if the vampire contingent arrives first, to estimate any danger.”

  Katerina said, “Stefan hasn’t appeared. If he comes now, he’ll find no one here, except Holly and the housekeeper. I trust he has the sense not to frighten them to death.”

  “We’ll leave him a message,” said Karl. “Ilona was here, but decided not to stay.”

  “Another quarrel?”

  Her words induced a sting of pain. Always, he thought, when I think I’ve resigned myself to Ilona’s nature, something happens to reawaken the futile anguish of hoping she will change. He only said, “It was nothing.”

  “Then why do you look as if you want to kill someone?” Katerina said, smiling. Her remark did not require an answer. Andreas, Karl noticed, was carefully looking in the opposite direction.

  “If we’re slightly reduced in number, it doesn’t matter,” said Simon. “We are still ten against three; surely that will be enough?”

  “If it is not,” said Fyodor with fierce amusement, “we deserve to die anyway!”

  “Speak for yourself,” said Andreas.

  Karl felt apprehensive. He thought, I’ve seen the daemons, I know they’re more powerful than us... if there is no resolution to this, if they only want to fight and destroy us... He felt a sudden violent thirst, and a need for the silence of the Ring. Oh, for the sweetness of Charlotte’s embrace...

  “Shall we begin, then?” Simon said cheerfully. “Don’t be afraid, Karl. We are immortal!”

  Rachel, Malik and the two monks stood at the fringes of the parlour, with Karl at the centre. Simon, Rasmila and Fyodor formed a triangle around him. They were smiling for no reason, he noticed; strange smiles, without warmth. Katerina stood nearby but seemed excluded. Karl found himself blending into the other-realm without trying, as if they carried him with them. The room vanished, but the vampires were all around him, changing colour and form. Only Andreas was left behind.

  The sky exploded into life above them. The nine were gossamer moths against the cloudscape. They rose fast. Karl flew without conscious effort, as if the others were lifting him; it felt pleasant, exciting.

  The realm became dark and tempestuous. Thunderous purple clouds congealed from nowhere. The ribbons of magnetic force, usually a reliable guide, rippled as if caught in turbulent water.

  Simon set the pace, Rasmila and Fyodor flowing effortlessly with him. Karl looked down and saw Katerina, Rachel and the others struggling to keep up. As he watched, they dropped further back.

  “Slow down,” he said, but no one answered. He felt invisibly linked to them, unable to pause and wait.

  Katti drew ahead of the others below. She had one hand ou
tstretched, a cloak of torn lace and snakeskin swirling around her in the wind.

  This felt wrong. Karl looked into the too-benevolent faces of Rasmila, Fyodor, and Simon; they grinned, teasing him.

  “Of course, you have realised who we are,” said Simon.

  “Who are you?” said Karl.

  “We are the immortals who created Kristian.”

  A dark and terrifying excitement rushed through him, too electric to be pure fear. He was horrified yet bewitched.

  “Why did you do it?” he whispered.

  Fyodor answered. “It seemed an excellent joke. In life Kristian was devoutly religious, a preacher of hellfire and damnation. What better way to plunge him into sin than to make him a vampire?”

  “It didn’t work, though.”

  “Oh, it worked all too well,” said Simon. “The change made his beliefs even more gloriously extreme.”

  “And he turned on you and put you in the Weisskalt.”

  “But now we’re alive again,” said Rasmila. “Alive!”

  Air-currents rushed loudly in Karl’s ears. The skyscape raced by so fast that he no longer saw detail, only billowing cream and golden surfaces. Sketched on this blankness were three dark figures... not attenuated beings like him, but huge transparent shapes, like shadows thrown from the feet of Simon, Fyodor and Rasmila...

  Lancelyn’s daemons.

  He tried to shout a warning. Everything was streaming out of control. He looked down for Katti, saw her climbing frantically to gain height. Her mouth moved but he couldn’t hear her.

  “Simon, look out!” Karl cried.

  The three daemons swooped. Oblivious to Karl and Katti, they threw themselves at Simon, Rasmila and Fyodor, who spun, arms raised to defend themselves...

  As if in an underwater dream, Karl watched them engage soundlessly.

  He wasn’t sure what happened next. There was no attack, no fighting. Rather, there was assimilation. Shadows and vampires dissolved into each other; in their place appeared three gleaming shapes.

  One was fire-red, one white, one blue-black. Not bright, yet hard to look at directly, elusive like after-images of the sun. At first he felt no fear. He simply watched, certain he was hallucinating, that the Ring was playing eerie tricks.

  He saw Katerina flailing upwards, and heard her voice calling faintly, “Karl! Karl!” Behind her, very small now, came Rachel, Malik, John and Matthew.

  What was the danger? Karl looked at the three fiery figures. Insubstantial, as if seen through water. Serene and deadly. Angels, he thought, who can crush vampires as we crush mortals...

  In a fluid movement that he did not see coming, they seized him. Arctic cold enveloped him and he thought, They’re taking me to the Weisskalt! Fangs unsheathed, he began to struggle. Below his attackers he saw Katerina arrowing closer. He must warn her away...

  Karl felt wolf-teeth freeze into his throat. The white one - Fyodor still, or something else? - was biting him. Hideously strong... rousing memories of his battles with Kristian... but this was worse. This being had no weight, nothing to fight, yet it was sucking out all his strength.

  Katerina reached him and began to claw the indigo daemon that was clinging to his back. “Let him go!” she shouted, but her voice was tiny and distant. “Let go, let go!”

  Suddenly Fyodor released him, lunged, and grabbed Katerina. She struggled and screamed, a fox in a steel trap. “Karl!”

  The darkest one peeled away and plunged at Malik, John and Matthew, scattering them like leaves.

  Now the copper-red angel bore Karl away. His limbs were useless, as if chained. Twin needles pierced his veins. His strength faded with his blood... he was dissolving like an ice-crust, yet in clear focus he saw the white daemon tear Katerina’s flesh, drink, then fling her aside like a broken doll. He saw the vermilion wound in her throat as she arced away against the vast canvas of the Ring; dwindling, gone.

  Katti...

  They were all lost to sight now. Karl was alone. The dark angel and the light one flew back towards their red companion, the purge complete.

  In a fluid motion, the red-gold angel whirled to face him and Karl found himself looking into Simon’s face. His eyes were spoked golden wheels filling Karl’s vision.

  “We made Kristian,” Simon whispered, “and you killed him.”

  The three held him between them, taking turns to sip from his throat until he lost the power of movement, speech, even reason. Still they sucked at his veins. Dogs licking a dry marrow-bone. And yet they held him gently, as if he were made of eggshell, and their hands felt delicious, and their unintelligible voices were like birdsong.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  THE KINDNESS OF DEMONS

  “Her refusal to feed isn’t unusual,” said Stefan. “Her reaction is the most extreme I’ve ever seen, but thirst will overcome her eventually.”

  “I’m not sure,” Charlotte said, distressed. Violette was pacing restlessly like a panther maddened by the scent of meat, yet she ignored the passive young man who offered himself as her victim. “I know her. She means it. Send your friend away and leave me alone with her.”

  Stefan shook his head doubtfully. “If you are sure. Niklas?”

  He made a small sign, and his mute doppelgänger lifted the young man and bit his throat. Charlotte felt a spurt of surprise, and thirst; she hadn’t expected this. Niklas fed quietly and neatly, his serene expression unchanging, until the man slumped in his arms. Then Stefan guided the victim out of the flat as if discretely ejecting a drunk.

  “I’ve called a taxi-cab for him,” Stefan said as he returned. “He will feel faint, and won’t remember anything clearly.”

  He’s been spared, Charlotte thought. Violette would have killed him. Does he even realise?

  “Call if you need us.” Stefan took Niklas’s arm and led him to another room, closing the door. Charlotte knew he would hear everything, but she was glad he was there.

  Violette circled the room, sat, then jumped up and resumed her demented pacing. Has the transformation destroyed her mind? Charlotte wondered. Why am I treating her like a wild animal?

  She caught Violette’s arm, halting her. “Violette, do you know what’s happened to you?”

  “No.” The dancer shook off her hand, glaring at her.

  “Do you know where you are, who I am?”

  “Don’t treat me like an idiot! I don’t understand, but I haven’t lost my mind. You’ve made me like you, a beast that drinks blood. But I won’t, I can’t!” Arms crossed, she clawed at her own shoulders.

  “You can’t scrape off the power like a skin,” said Charlotte. “It’s part of you. It’s a tiny fire inside every single cell. I know drinking blood seems unthinkable, but that’s only the remnant of your human nature. You are one of us now. It’s natural to us. Wonderful.”

  “I know all this!” Violette spun away, pulling at her hair. “You don’t understand! If I swallow blood, something terrible will happen. It’s already happening.”

  “Do you mean something other than becoming a vampire?” Charlotte asked carefully. “Your mind will play games with you while you’re starving.”

  Violette faced her. Her fierceness vanished and she looked defenceless, confused. “Was I supposed to... Did it happen to you, did you...?”

  Charlotte held her wrists, trying to calm her. “Everyone sees strange things during their transformation. Is that what’s frightened you? Tell me what you saw.”

  Violette chewed her lower lip with the tip of one sharp canine. She said, “Who is Lilith?”

  Charlotte frowned. “Why?”

  “Tell me!”

  “A character from mythology,” said Charlotte. “Wasn’t she Adam’s first wife, in some Jewish writings?”

  “Yes, and she was evil. She’s the embodiment of wickedness; proud, arrogant, malicious, vengeful. She encourages sin, she feeds on men and murders children. She’s the bride of the Devil, mother of demons, the Serpent itself.”

  Violette tremble
d as she spoke. Her expression was ghastly. Charlotte asked gently, “And did you see her?”

  “I am her,” said Violette.

  Charlotte, speechless, could only think, God, she has lost her mind! Careful, I must help her through this. “What do you mean?”

  “After you drained my blood and I passed out, or died, I found myself in a garden. It was disgusting, wet and crawling with insects... so much life, it was obscene. There was a man...” She seemed physically to shrivel, losing her ballerina grace. “He tried to force himself on me, and when I wouldn’t submit he kept arguing, tormenting me. Like Janacek, but worse, because I couldn’t stop him. He said I wasn’t allowed to refuse him because he was my superior. This made me so angry I thought I’d go up in flames... and I did. I flew up into a sky of fire... and I spoke God’s secret name to escape, and that was wrong too. I broke God’s law and sided with the Devil. I only wanted to be left alone, but that seemed such a great crime! I came to a beautiful red desert but God wouldn’t allow me to stay there. He wanted me to return to the man, so he sent three angels to fetch me. I saw them coming, I felt them seize me and throw me into an ocean of light...”

  “And then?”

  “There was only the light, and fear and pain. Feathers cutting me like steel. I was in this room again but the pain and the light came with me.”

  “It must have been me, Katerina and Stefan you saw,” Charlotte said gently. “We would have looked different to you. I should have explained more.”

  Violette seemed impatient. “Yes, obviously I saw you, but you were something else as well. I knew it had happened before; my escape, the envoys coming for me. I was an outsider. I hated Adam, I hated Eve who replaced me, I wanted revenge on all their children. So I became the serpent who destroyed their innocence and got them cast into the wilderness. It was me. Lilith.”

  “You were dreaming,” said Charlotte. “You got this from Dans le Jardin. You can’t believe the story was literally true.”

  “But I wasn’t dreaming. I was remembering. The story is eternal, always happening. Explain how I know so much that I never knew before!”

  Charlotte was at a loss, wishing Stefan were there. “The transformation plays tricks on the mind,” she said weakly.