By Denise Hale.

Dear Dom,

As you may be aware Emma suggested writing a short story with a starring role for Richard. She then posted an opening. At the time discussions were centering on vampire stories. I continued the story based on this genre plus the ground-rules: –

1. Leading man will be played by Richard. (i.e. it is based on Richard’s skills as an actor and is not a personal reflection on Richard’s personality).
2. No nudity.
3. No sex.

As Emma started the story with a man waiting about at dawn he was unlikely to be a vampire. Either, he was the vampire’s last meal on his way back to his crypt, or he was related to vampires in a different way. I decided on the latter option. However the consensus was that the group wanted a more romantic story to work on – a project still in hand.

With the rest of my family ill (consecutively) last month, I picked up the vampire story and completed it. I amended Emma’s opening because it did not fit the pace of the rest of the story, although I hope I retained the atmosphere she sought to create. Emma has read the story and lavished praise on me (I’m still blushing) I hope others enjoy it and wondered if you could possible post it on the fan site. (One day I’ll master the attach on the message board!)

Thank you.
Adieu, Denise.
PS It is over 7,000 words.

Part 1.

The street-lamp was still burning, but the chilly, morning fog rendered its glow ineffective, and it barely illuminated the dark figure standing beneath it. The only sound was his feet stamping in response to the chilling effect of the morning frost that glittered on the icy ground. Fog-reduced visibility meant that a passer-by would only have been aware that the waiting man was tall, slim and elegantly dressed. Not that there were any passers-by at this time of day. Suddenly, from the shadows behind Edward, a figure emerged.

“Why are you always late?” demanded Edward, “Come on Jackson, there’s work to be done!”

Jackson looked about uneasily. “I’m sorry it couldn’t be ‘elped,” he muttered.

Edward’s sapphire eyes issued a warning that made Jackson shiver more than the chilly, morning air.

“Things can always be helped,” he told Jackson, his clear voice enunciating each word, emphasizing the huge gulf between the two men. He turned and started to walk through the gates of the local cemetery. The combination of tombstones, fog and cold stone angels did not ease Jackson’s discomfort. Whereas his companion, who Jackson struggled to keep up with, seemed immune to his environment. Edward had a purpose, a purpose which he kept at the forefront of his mind and which overshadowed any fears or doubts that might have emerged in a lesser man. Beyond the seemingly endless rows of graves were small stone buildings, the mausoleums of the rich, not for them the cold, hard, earth exposed to the elements. Even in death the rich could afford to keep themselves apart from their fellow, less fortunate, man. Edward stopped at the door of a miniature, Greek temple. He held up the padlock.

“Okay Jackson do your worst!” he invited with a flicker of a smile.

Jackson pulled a piece of wire out of his pocket and took the lock in his hand. He opened it as easily as if the wire had been the lock’s original wrought iron key. They entered the tomb together. Edward opened his bag. Jackson hated this part.

“Come on,” urged Edward, “We haven’t got all day!”

The thought crossed Jackson’s mind that that was exactly what they did have! But he proceeded to help lift the lid of the tomb, his stomach churning with dread. Inside the coffin the young man looked more asleep than dead, a sleeping beauty thought Jackson as he looked at the soft, curly, blonde hair surrounding the white, perfect face, except it wasn’t quite perfect. There was blood around the mouth, deep red, arterial blood still in it’s liquid state.

“Ready!”

Jackson moved away from the corpse as the mallet struck the wooden stake that entered the vampire’s heart. A blood-curling scream filled the air and the corpse seemed to violently shudder. Now it lay still, and as Jackson looked at its face again he noted that the youth’s beauty had gained an angelic quality. However the sword welded by his companion destroyed the effect as it severed the head from the body.

Edward smiled. “Peace at last” he whispered to the youth, then he bent down and kissed the victim’s forehead. “Goodnight sweet Prince.”

“Your brother was a handsome boy, Sir.”

“Yes he was. Now to get the bastard who gave him that fatal kiss.”

Part 2.

Outside Jackson replaced the padlock.

“What we going to do now Sir?”

Edward seemed lost in his own thoughts and Jackson looked at him, waiting patiently. Gradually Edward became aware of the presence of the other man.

“I think that our work is over for tonight. Tomorrow we have to resume our search for this Raphael.”

“You think he’s a foreigner, don’t you?”

Edward smiled. “Raphael is hardly your usual English Christian name. But he may simply have immigrate parents. Your dockland enquiries have revealed nothing?”

Jackson nodded to affirm this.

“In that case we will have to widen our search. The main problem is that Justin had become a little, way-ward, prior to meeting this Raphael. Even his close friends were concerned with the company he was keeping. Unfortunately they seem unable, or unwilling, to impart any useful information to us.” Edward paused, deep in thought.

“So what should I do now sir?”

“I suggest you do what I intend to do. Go home and get some sleep. Tonight we will start trawling the rather tawdry areas of this fair city.”

“Good night then sir,” murmured Jackson, starting to walk off.

“God go with you,” called Edward to Jackson’s disappearing back. Jackson turned and smiled; pulling at his neck he held up the silver crucifix that he always wore.

“I make sure of that sir,” Jackson called back.

Returning to his house, the sound of his footsteps in the hallway brought forth his butler.

“Good morning sir,” welcomed Giles, as he aided him in the removal of his overcoat, “Lady Vanessa’s waiting for you in the morning room.”

“Lady Vanessa,” repeated Edward in surprise, “How long has she been here?”

“About fifteen minutes. She insisted on waiting sir.”

“That’s fine Giles,” said Edward dismissively, walking towards the morning room. “Oh Giles.”

“Yes sir.”

“You had better bring us some morning tea.”

Good morning Vanessa,” he greeted the fashionably dressed, attractive, brunette. She was seated on a small, yellow sofa, reading the morning paper, but on hearing his voice her head instinctively turned towards him.

“At last Edward.” She stood up and allowed him to take her hand.

“You have become a very difficult man to get hold of,” she chided him. “And I was determine to ensure your presence at Louisa’s coming out party tonight.”

“Tonight?” Edward said in surprise.

“You were sent an invitation,” she said accusingly. Then she paused.

“But in the circumstances I will forgive you,” she continued softly.

Giles brought in a tray and placed it on a small table. They remained silent as he poured the tea and handed them each a cup.

“Where have you been at this hour of the day?” Vanessa questioned, deciding that a change of subject was required.

“Family business.”

Vanessa decided not to pursue that topic.

“You will come, will you not?” she urged. “Louisa will be so disappointed if you fail to attend.” She turned slightly as if she was admiring the flowers displayed on the side table, the reality was she was afraid that her eyes would reveal that it would not only be Louisa that would be disappointed by Edward’s absence.

“It is difficult to believe that little Louisa is old enough for a coming out party.”

“Time is marching on for all of us,” remarked Vanessa. “Julian Featherstone proposed to me yesterday.”

“Did you accept?”

Vanessa felt disappointed that her news failed to prompt any sign of jealousy in Edward.

“No, of course not. No one accepts a proposal on a Wednesday,” she said gravely.

“They do not,” he said with amusement. “I must remember that.”

“You must come tonight,” she implored. “I want to introduce you to Raphael and his sister Maria.”

Edward felt a chill go through him at the mention of Raphael’s name.

“Raphael?”

“Oh! He’s this wonderful, exotic count, from South America, or somewhere, who is capturing the hearts of half of the ladies in London society,” Vanessa gushed, secretly delighted that Edward seemed to respond to Raphael’s name.

“Not yours I hope?”

Vanessa felt colour flood her face, she returned her gaze to the flowers.

“Of course not. Although I do believe Louisa’s slightly smitten,” she confided.

Edward was unsure of whether to be grateful that fate had pushed Raphael into his path so swiftly, or whether fate was playing a dangerous game with the lives of his close friends.

“Of course I will come to Louisa’s party,” he told Vanessa, smiling at her.

Part 3.

Carriages filled the driveway to Ashcroft Hall, home of the Earl Of Richmond, his wife the Lady Susan, their son William and their two daughters Vanessa and Louisa, plus over fifty servants. On a night like tonight the number of servants was supplemented by the employment of local villagers as grooms, under footman, maids and waiters. Edward sat in his carriage as the queue slowly moved forward, at last it was his turn to alight. Everyone who was anyone in London society would attend; this fact must have been the hook that had lured Raphael here. Edward smiled to himself; it was strange that this vampire’s vanity may be his Achilles’ heel. As he entered the hallway he handed his invitation to the barker and heard his name read out. Immediately Vanessa appeared at his side.

“I am so pleased you have come,” she greeted him.

“Here is my dance card, please sign for at least two. I only want to dance with my favourite men tonight,” she flirted happily with him.

“And how many dances is Julian signed for?” Edward asked enjoying the flirtation.

She leant towards him conspiratorially. “I am trying to fill it up before he sees it, although I will reserve him one. Never cut a string until you have tied the bow, as mother is always reminding me.”

Edward smiled at her and dutifully signed her card for two dances.

“And where is Louisa? I am sure I am obliged to dance with her as well.” Edward looked around, missing the look of annoyance that appeared briefly on Vanessa’s face.

“I think she is already dancing. Come,” she took Edward’s arm. “I will help you find her.”

They walked into Little Versailles as the ballroom was known. An earlier Earl had demanded a replica of the French court’s ballroom and had been wealthy enough to ensure his wish was granted. Gilded mirrors hung on every wall, reflecting back the light of the glittering chandeliers under which elegantly attired couples glided around, the bare-shouldered ladies seemingly oblivious to the perils of the dripping hot wax from the overhead candles. Edward smiled to himself this was not the ideal habitat of a vampire.

“Edward!” Louisa abandoned her dance-partner to greet her guest.

“It is wonderful to see you. Vanessa promised she would ensure you were here,” she exclaimed joyfully.

“Thank you for inviting me,” he replied, taking her hands in his and kissing them lightly.

“Oh I assure you, you are one of the few people I am really pleased to see tonight. You will sign for a dance,” she said producing her card.

He glanced at her card. “Your next dance appears to be free. Will you allow me?”

“Of course, but I had better finish this dance with Lucas or he will be unbearable.” She returned to her partner, who flashed Edward a warning look. Edward, in return, smiled graciously at him.

Vanessa chatted amiably to him as he awaited Louisa’s return. He wanted to confide his fears for her sister’s safety to Vanessa but fear of alarming her prevented him. His conscience argued that Louisa’s death would be a more alarming consequence, but somehow he was unable to interrupt her bird-like chatter. The music stopped, the dancers applauded and Louisa returned to them, closely followed by Lucas.

“My dance I believe,” smiled Edward, taking her hand and leading her to the dance floor. They turned to face one another, she placed her hand lightly on his shoulder and as the waltz began she smiled as he touched her waist and led her gracefully around the floor.

“I wish I had all my dances with you. You make me feel as if I am floating.” He laughed. “That is because we’ve been dancing together since you were about four and you used to stand on my shoes.”

“I could never decide whether I was going to marry you or Justin,” she said gaily.

Edward’s face lost its smile for a moment.

“Oh I am so sorry. Mama says that I have a bad habit of saying the wrong thing. Please forgive me Edward.”

“It’s your party. I forgive you,” Edward said tenderly, “Anyway it is good to hear Justin’s name mentioned with a happy memory.”

“Thank you Edward. Would you like to marry me?” she teased.

He smiled. “Thank you for the offer Louisa but I believe that I am a bit too old for you.”

“Never Edward, never,” she giggled.

“I hear an old friend of Justin’s is invited tonight,” Edward probed whilst trying to maintain the flirtatious mood between them.

“Oh! Who?”

“A count. I think he is called Raphael.” Edward felt her stiffen slightly and wrong foot.

“I was not aware Justin was acquainted with Raphael,” she replied flatly.

“How did you meet him?”

“He was introduced to us at the Berkley’s.” Lowered her voice she continued, “Edward there is something about him which disturbs me but which I feel drawn too.”

They stopped dancing. He held her hands between his.

“Louisa, I have reason to believe that he is a very dangerous man. Please stay away from him and on no account be alone with him.” As he spoke he held her gaze with his eyes in order to reinforce his concern for her. She seemed fearful, and he wondered if he had frightened her or whether there was another reason for her fear. He smiled at her and released her hands.

“Look! I have a present for you,” he felt in his pocket and pulled out a gold crucifix. He placed it around her neck and fastened in. Louisa put her hand to the necklace.

“It is a very usual gift,” she laughed. “But as it is from you I will treasure it. Come on the dance is nearly over and I want to float for a moment longer.”

Part 4.

After the dance Edward managed to avoid Vanessa and return to the hallway. He took a drink from an inept waiter’s silver platter and wandered through the various saloons. His search failed to unearth the mysterious count and his sister. Throughout his quest his ears were attuned to the barking voice in the hall, still announcing the arrival of a seemingly endless stream of guests.

“Edward!” a male voice boomed out his name.

“Julian.” He turned and shook hands with the voice’s rather burly owner.

“It’s good to see you again.” Julian’s voice was more accustomed to the vocal renderings associated with the chasing of foxes across the county, within the confines of four walls its effect was to slightly deafen the listener. An effect that almost prevented Edward hearing the arrival of his prey announced. Edward turned in order to study the count and his sister. The count was almost effeminate in frame so that, except for their clothes, the two appeared so alike as to be interchangeable. Their black hair was pulled back, his into a ponytail, hers into a bun. Large, dark eyes dominated their faces and their skin was a luminous white. Her dress consisted of layers of black lace and she wore a spray of red flowers over her heart. Edward understood Louisa’s description; the pair both drew and repelled him in equal measures. He watched them wander unawares towards the ballroom and was pleased to observe their hasty reappearance in the hallway, obviously abhorred by a room where their true identities would have been revealed to all. Vanessa went over to the couple, and Edward immediately excused himself and hurried over to her side.

“I am sorry, if your sister would like to follow me,” she was saying.

“Is there a problem?” Edward asked.

“Oh Edward. Have you meet Count Raphael and his sister Maria?”

“Enchanted,” said Edward, taking the ice-cold hand of Maria and brushing it with his lips.

“You are so cold,” he commented in a concerned manner.

“Maria is feeling a little unwell,” explained Vanessa. “Would you escort her to the red drawing room? I think she would find it quieter there.”

Edward turned to look at Vanessa who was smiling at the count. He felt uneasy. For Vanessa to dismiss him out of hand was unusual, the fact it was in the presence of this count unnerved him, he wished he had another golden crucifix in his pocket to protect Vanessa. He felt Maria’s cold hand touch his arm, divide and conquer, their plan was so simple but he had to prevent it.

He cleared his drying throat, “I think, my dear Vanessa, it may be a sensible precaution if we all adjoined to the red room. I am sure Maria will be comforted by her brother’s presence.” He smiled reassuringly at the seemingly vacuous Vanessa.

“Of course Edward,” she replied with little emotion, as she took the count’s arm.

The main saloons were airy and bright and located at the rear of the house, overlooking the lawns and magnificent fountains. This small, red drawing room was situated at the front of the house overlooking the courtyard. It derived its name from its decorative style; crimson frock wallpaper lined the walls, heavy, red, velvet drapes surrounded the window and plush, red furnishing offered comfort to its inhabitants. The gas mantles were set low and a red fire glowed in the grate. It was Lady Susan favourite room and the heavy musk perfume she always wore had permeated the furnishing, now the heat of the room released its heady fragrance. On entering the room Edward immediately considered it an unwise choice on Vanessa’s part. Vanessa seated herself on a straight back chair, while the invalid reclined on the chaise lounge, administered by her brother. The stifling air and the claustrophobic effect of the room were beginning to cause Edward physical discomfort; his breathing became laboured and his skin was clammy, he sought to regain control of the situation. Moving to a side table he lifted a decanter.

“A little brandy may lift your sister’s spirits,” he suggested, pouring a glass for each of them. He handed Vanessa hers, she barely lifted her head to thank him. Maria took her glass but didn’t drink it. The count threw the contents of his into the fire. The alcohol ignited, causing engorged flames to appear for a second before the fire returned to its former passive state.

“I do not drink alcohol,” the count informed him.

Edward put his own glass down, still full, aware that the siblings’ eyes were watching him carefully.

“You are a man used to the attention of women Eduardo,” commented the count, his accent was strangely lilting and endowed a subtle gravity to his words, “I too enjoy the attention of women. It is a gift is it not?”

“A gift we have to be careful not to abuse,” replied Edward.

The count laughed, “We have a lot in common, Eduardo”

“I doubt that,” retorted Edward coldly.

“We inspire love but are unable, or unwillingly, to give it,” the count told him.

“Perhaps we both consider that it demands a price we are unwilling to pay,” the count surmised.

Edward laughed uneasily. “I believe I was correct to doubt you. I feel that we have little in common.”

The two men appraised each other. The count, although close to the fire, remained composed. Whereas the room’s cloying scents, mixed with its seemingly increasing warmth, visibly weakened Edward. Even the simple act of standing was becoming an ordeal.

“We have all seen the past but my sister alone has seen the future.” The count waved his hand towards the languishing Maria.

“Gypsy blood,” commented Edward. “I do not heed such superstitious parlour games.”

“I have seen our destiny,” whispered Maria her voice strangely lyrical, “I have seen your destiny and they are intertwined. You can not escape your destiny.”

“And was my brother’s destiny intertwined with yours,” demanded Edward. His head was starting to ache; the heat of the room was becoming unbearable, he felt dizzy. Reluctantly he sank into a large armchair.

“Your brother was very special to me,” murmured Maria arising from her couch.

“He was special to both of us,” the count added.

Edward looked across to Vanessa, who sat straight and still, too still. He had to get them both out of here.

“We know who you are,” murmured Maria, now standing in front of him.

“And I know what you are. You are despoilers of beauty and corrupters of innocent,” he replied, his thoughts turning into words before he could prevent them.

“Oh the contrary,” smiled the count, “We are preservers of beauty and creators of experience.”

Maria ice-cold hand swept across Edward’s feverish brow bringing the relief his body craved.

“I need to get some air.” He tried to rise. “Vanessa!”

“Edward?” she replied sweetly, whilst remaining seated. Edward watched the count move in front of her, she smiled at him.

“Leave her be,” demanded Edward, the count moved away from Vanessa with a gesture of compliance to Edward’s wishes. He approached the fire, and pulling his hand out of his pocket he scattered a handful of herbs onto the embers. Flames arose and greedily consumed them. A sweet, sickly smell filled the air.

“I could relieve all your pain,” murmured Maria leaning over Edward. She stroked his face again, her black lace cuff brushing his skin. He grabbed her hand.

“You are evil. You disgust me. You are cold like ice because you are no longer human. What are you?” The words were spat at her, never had Edward addressed a woman in such a manner and the strength of his venom shocked him.

Maria laughed, a surprising soft sound, “Oh Eduardo you know exactly what I am.” Slowly she lowered her head to his shoulder. He had to leave the room. He had to get out. Get help for Vanessa but get out. He pushed her aside and stumbled from the room.

“You can not escape your destiny Eduardo,” the count called after him.

Part 5.

Edward staggered back into the hallway. He must get help for Vanessa. He’d vaguely hoped that leaving the room would restore his senses, but that was not proving to be the case. He was aware that people were looking at him and averting their gaze. He tried to speak to someone but his words were slurred. He heard comments about the effects of drink and the ability of a gentleman to know his capacity. The faces blurred before him and he was unable to recognise a friend who might help him in his hour of need. A heavy arm clasped him; he tried to fight free.

“Come on Edward,” boomed a voice, “I think we need to find your carriage.”

“Julian,” Edward gasped with relief.

“Yes Edward. It’s me. Come on old boy.” Julian supported Edward’s weight and guided him towards the doors. As Julian touched Edward’s skin he was surprised to find it clammy. The man had a fever! Thoughts of cholera or typhoid entered his mind; he had to get him out of here.

“Vanessa,” Edward mumbled at him, “Needs help”.

“Yes, yes,” Julian tried to reassure him, “Let us just get you home.” Julian waved to an under-footman and ordered Edward’s carriage to be brought round. He managed to haul him into the courtyard, Edward ranting incoherently.

Julian looked in Edward’s feverish face.

“Vanessa,” he heard.

“Yes, Vanessa is a lovely girl. Proposed to her but she turned me down. I reckon her heart belongs to another.” Julian sighed.

“She must be saved. She needs you. She needs you now,” the words, which in Edwards’s brain were so clear, were hardly decipherable to Julian.

“Needs me. No, I am not the lucky man,” replied Julian, pleased to see Edward carriage approach them. He helped him inside.

“You must find Vanessa. You must save her. Oh God please.” Edward was holding Julian’s arm, tightly.

“I understand I will go and find Vanessa I promise.”

Edward released his grip and sunk back into his seat muttering words of gratitude.

“Take him home fast,” Julian bellowed at the driver, “And get him a doctor!”

Julian watched the carriage drive off and prayed Edward would recover. Before he found Vanessa he would have to wash his hands to ensure Edward’s sudden illness did not take hold of him.

Part 6.

Edward did not remember arriving home that night, nor his concerned staff rushing to his aid and placing him between the cool, white sheets of his bed. The attentions of the doctor, the administering of his housekeeper and his butler all took place outside Edward’s consciousness. For the next few days, whilst his staff wondered whether he would live or die, Edward fought the demons of the night. Once he felt the touch of black lace on his face and grasped out at the offending hand, in a moment of consciousness he registered the terrified face of his housekeeper and released his vice-like grip. Many times he felt the caress of Maria’s ice-cold hands on his body. Sometimes he heard screams and cries and awoke to find that they emanated from his own throat. At other times he believed himself to be back in the red room, he could smell its cloying aromas and feel the scrutiny of the evil siblings. Worse were the visions of Maria and her brother, interchangeable, they seemed to surround and devour him.

On the third day the fever abated. His housekeeper awoke startled, to find her master breathing normally and sleeping easily.

“Oh holy Mary mother of God, praise be,” she sighed piously, and then hurried to the kitchen to inform the rest of the anxious staff.

It was nearly ten o’clock before Edward awoke and rang the bell beside his bed. Almost immediately Giles appeared with breakfast, he placed the tray in front of Edward and then moved to the windows and released the blinds.

“Close them!” demanded Edward, his voice stronger than his body. He sunk back onto the pillows.

“My eyes are weak, I cannot take the sunlight,” he explained softly.

“My apologies sir, I did not think. The doctor is downstairs, shall I bring him up or do you wish to eat first?”

Edward smiled. “I believe the doctor charges by the minute. Conduct him upstairs. I can eat later.”

As Giles removed the tray, Edward’s eyes caught sight of a spray of red flowers placed in a crystal vase beside his bed.

“What are they doing there?” He demanded, startled by their presence.

“You were clutching them sir. The night you were taken ill.”

The doctor examined Edward thoughtfully.

“The fever has left you greatly weakened.”

“I think I am aware of that. No doubt one of Mrs O’Connor’s tonics will soon remedy that.”

“I intend to prescribe you a special tonic which I hope you will take.” “Well, you have got me this far, I would be a fool not to heed your advice.” “Good! Bull’s blood.”

“What!”

“Your blood has been fighting off a vile disease and is now weakened. The bull is a strong, virile animal and its blood will enrich yours and make your recovery swifter.”

“And where will I obtain this bull’s blood? If I agree to take it.”

“I have a reliable source where I know its origins are pure. I will arrange delivery,” the doctor informed him as he packed his bag.

“A glassful twice a day. No mixing. Just hold your nose and swallow,” the doctor commanded, “I will return in two days to check on your progress. Good day.”

Part 7.

Despite his reservations, the doctor’s remedy had the desired effect. On the fifth day Edward was able to leave his room, although his weakened eyes still demanded the closure of all blinds. He was in the morning room, finishing breakfast, when Julian arrived.

“Good to see you up and about,” boomed Julian as he entered the room.

“I confess it is good to be up and about,” grinned Edward, as he reached across the table to shake Julian’s outstretched hand. “Forgive me for not standing.”

“Of course old boy, of course.”

He glanced at the closed blinds.

“I see you have received the sad news. Such a shock. Such a shock.” Julian shook his head.

“Sad news?” queried Edward reaching for the mail.

Julian stared sadly at him, reluctant to impart his unwelcome information. As Edward hand touched the pile of letters he notice a black border edge on one of the envelopes. He pulled it from the pile. Louisa’s handwriting. He tore open the envelope; his eyes scanned the letter hoping against hope.

“I am sorry Edward,” Julian mumbled sadly.

“But how?” pleaded Edward.

“I was too late. She was dead when I entered the room,” Julian told him uncomfortably.

“Was she alone?”

Julian nodded. “Doctor was a bit mystified. He concluded it was similar to Justin’s illness.”

Edward sat, devoid of movement, trying to digest the information whilst feeling guilty at his ineffectiveness. His silence made Julian uneasy.

“I thought your fever and her death were linked in some way,” Julian mused, his gaze fixed on the carpet. Edward’s eyes flickered in alarm but Julian shrugged his shoulders.

“A terrible coincidence,” he concluded.

Part 8.

Once again Edward waited for Jackson, his hand clasping the reins of a pair of black horses. It was dusk and Edward was pleased that a full moon would light their journey. Ashcroft Hall was over ten miles away, and it was a cold night, but he didn’t want to run the risk of the carriage being noticed by anyone.

“Sorry to keep you waiting sir,” muttered Jackson.

“No doubt your excuse is inadequate. Hurry up, we have a long ride,” reprimanded Edward, mounting his horse.

Jackson tied the bag securely to the horse’s saddle and mounted the mare with difficulty.

The two horses trotted out of town, then galloped across country to Ashcroft Hall. As they reached the park Edward slowed and pointed to the right of the grand house. The horses trotted in the direction Edward had indicted, their riders careful to use the advantage of tree cover as a means to prevent their presence being noticed.

As they neared their objective, the men dismounted and led the horses towards a marble building obscured by foliage. Vanessa’s final resting place.

Wordlessly, they tied the horses to trees and walked towards the mausoleum. Jackson’s skills once again procured an easy entry. Together they lifted the slab that sealed Vanessa’s tomb. The tomb was empty.

“I knew you would come for me Edward. They told me you would,” Vanessa’s voice addressed them from the doorway.

“Is it not strange? In life I pursued you, now you pursue me,” she continued as she walked towards him.

“Am I more desirable now?” Her eyes were staring directly into his.

Edward cleared his throat, killing a corpse was easy; killing a walking, talking replica of a beloved friend was not something he had anticipated.

“Vanessa,” he addressed the figure, “You were always beautiful.”

She laughed, an action that displayed her vampire fangs, instantly reminding Edward of what she had become.

“Beautiful, Edward,” she said flirtatiously, “But what about desirable? Do you desire me?”

“I have always loved you,” replied Edward as his fingers tighten their grip on the wooden stake he held.

She laughed again. “Your code of conduct does you credit Edward. But my search for the truth is unquenchable.” She was now standing close to him, closer than he felt comfortable with. She reached up and smoothed her hand over his chest.

“I do not feel that our desires are compatible,” Edward told her as he drove the stake into her heart.

She fell backwards, her throat emitting an animal-like scream. Only the conviction that he was restoring her soul to her prevented Edward drowning in the horror of his action. He lifted her into her coffin and quickly severed her head from her body. As they approached the end of their labours Edward became aware that someone, or something, was watching them.

Part 9.

It was as they returned to their horses that he spied the figure. Despite the moon it was difficult to be sure of what it was, an animal, a child, or a person? All seemed possible. It was scurrying away from them. Not towards the house. Every now and then it stopped, as if it expected to be followed.

“What is it sir?”

“Dammed if I know,” replied Edward monitoring the figures progress.

“Do we follow it?”

Once more the figure halted, waiting for them.

“I think it expects us too.”

Edward mounted his horse as he pulled the reins in a piece of cloth touched his hand. He lifted it up. Black lace! He looked at the disappearing figure.

“Quickly,” he chided Jackson, as he galloped off in pursuit.

Now the figure was sure it had attracted Edward’s attention it moved faster. Branches seemed to lash out at him as if nature herself wanted to prevent his pursuit. He was unaware of the direction he was travelling, his only criteria was to catch his prey!

A ruined castle appeared before him, he had forgotten it existed. It had become a part of his childhood memories. They had all played here together, rescuing damsels in distress, fighting imaginary dragons. The figure moved into the remains of the great hall. Edward dismounted his horse and tied it to a post. In his haste he had given no thought to the tools he would require for the task ahead. Jackson had yet to appear. Edward paused and looked about. Another post lay nearby, it was too long and its end crudely pointed, it looked too wieldy for his needs, he picked it up anyway.

His entry disturbed a family of bats that flew around the hall before settling.

“I feared that you would not follow me,” a lyrical voice greeted him.

“I would have thought that your gift would have foreseen my presence here,” Edward replied mockingly.

“I foresee the future but actual timing is beyond my scope. I knew you would come but I could not be sure when.”

“And you are not afraid?”

“I have existed too long to be afraid of the inevitable.” She stepped forward into the moonlight. “Are you still afraid of me?”

“Should I be?”

“Probably. We do not die easily,” she mocked him.

Whilst the attack Edward had planned was unsophisticated, hers was so subtle that Edward was unaware it was happening. She assaulted his senses; the tone of her voice seduced him, her cloying, sweet perfume intoxicated him and his eyes feasted on her mysterious beauty. Inside him there arose a primitive urge to process her that overpowered his brain’s ability for logical, rational thoughts. As she reached out to embrace him, for the briefest of a second, his eyes closed in anticipation, as they blinked open he saw her, serpent-like, poised to strike. With Herculean force he instinctively plunged the crude, wooden post into her heart. Soundlessly she slumped forwards into his arms then, like a beautiful, preserved, pinned butterfly that he had once removed from its protective glass case, she crumbled to dust in his hands. Instantly feelings of loss descended on him.

Part 10.

Aware of a movement behind him Edward turned, startled.

“Blimey sir that was close. I thought you were a goner then,” Jackson gasped, clutching the bag to his chest as if it were a protective shield.

“Where’s your crucifix sir?”

“I had to lend it to a friend. I believed her need was greater than mine. Due to my recent illness I have yet to acquire a replacement.”

“Take mine,” offered Jackson, dropping the bag and tugging at the chain about his neck.

“No!” replied Edward fiercely, “Our nights work is not yet completed and you may have need of it yourself. I will not risk another’s life for the sake of my own.”

Reluctantly Jackson nodded and picked up the bag.

“We need to locate the count. Then we will be free from this accursed disease.”

Jackson looked about him nervously.

“Where do you think he is sir?”

“Probably out hunting,” Edward surmised. “He will return before sunrise and we must prepare. Come, we must search out his resting place.”

From the bag Jackson produced a torch, which he ignited. Edward searched his memory for places that would fulfil a vampire’s sleeping requirements. The most obvious was the crypt beneath the hall. Originally Edward dismissed it, but after checking the grounds they made their way down the narrow staircase at the rear of the hall. For a while it seemed Edward’s assumptions were correct, then, at the rear of the crypt, the blazing torch revealed the presence of a doorway almost obscured by fallen masonry. They entered the chamber. In it centre were twin tombs, their slabs moved aside, the cloying aroma of Maria’s perfume informed Edward that they had found their destination. Now they simply had to wait.

Deep within the castle they could not observe the steady progress of the moon across the sky. It was almost dawn when the count returned, replenished from his nights work. He entered the room silently, Edward and Jackson watched, hidden by darkness.

“Are you going to skulk on the floor like a rat Eduardo?” Raphael addressed the darkness.

“If you can see me you have an advantage which I cannot match.”

“I can smell you dear Eduardo,” laughed the count, “I too need a slither of light to see by.”

Edward stood up and the count turned towards the sound.

“There are candles on the altar. Please do me the honour of lighting them. Then we will both be advantaged.”

Edward silently lit the candles and then turned to face his adversary.

“What now?”

Raphael laughed. “What do you suggest?”

“Pistols at dawn?”

“I do not think that is viable. Although I admire your irony,” the count complimented him.

Edward picked up the stake he had recently placed on the altar.

“Too crude,” the count commented, “I am a gentleman.”

Raphael produced a pair of swords and threw one across to Edward.

“Let us see whose honour will be satisfied,” he challenged.

Edward picked up the sword and smiled. It was not his favourite sport but it was one that he displayed a great natural aptitude for.

“On guard!” cried the count. Edward placed his sword across his opponent’s and the duel commenced. Raphael’s skill matched Edward’s own and he feared that it might even surpass it. Once he slipped, and narrowly missed being impaled on Raphael’s blade. Then Raphael fell against the altar, but twisted away before Edward could deal a fatal blow. Whilst Edward felt the tension of a life or death battle.

Raphael seemed to be playing like a cat with a mouse, as if at any time he could swipe the fateful blow. However today the fates were kind and victory was to be seized by Edward who suddenly pushed his sword straight into Raphael’s heart. As the count collapsed onto his knees, Edward extracted the blade and whirled it around, decapitating the aristocratic vampire.

Edward’s breath was heavy and irregular as Jackson came to his side.

“Is he the last?” Jackson queried, as if belief in this possibility was beyond him.

Edward leant forward and tried to control his breathing.

“Let us hope and pray so my friend.”

Part 11.

It had been raining all day, turning the country roads into muddy quagmires that impeded the progress of Edward’s carriage, but it was a journey that had been too long delayed. Dusk was falling as he alighted into the courtyard of Ashcroft Hall. The footman announced his arrival to Louisa, who was alone in the drawing room. As protocol demanded she was wearing a black, mourning dress, which emphasised her deadly, white skin and hollowed eyes.

“Edward. I am so pleased to see you,” she greeted him, a smile flickered on her lips but it failed to change the sadness in her face.

“Louisa. I am so sorry. I should have come sooner,” he apologized, taking her hands in his.

“Hush Edward. I know about your illness,” she assured him. “I knew you would come as soon as you were able. Your presence here now is all that matters.”

She paused and chewed her lips as if unwilling to let any more words pass them. “I have decide to marry Lucas,” she said finally, “I cannot explain why, except he makes me feel safe and since Vanessa’s death I seem to crave security.”

Edward fingers touched her neck gently. “You are not wearing my present!”

“No. I am sorry. I have been suffering from headaches and the heavy chain was more than I could bear.”

Edward remained silent. She looked at him in concern.

“Do you think I should marry Lucas?”

Edward shrugged. “I think that it is very bad form of him to request your hand at a time when you are so very vulnerable.”

She sighed. “That is what father says too.”

“I have a strange request Edward,” she confided.

Edward looked at her puzzled.

“Would you dance with me? I want to float. I want to be free for just a little while.”

Edward smiled at her, his blue eyes looking into her gravely, dark ones.

“Of course.” He took her hand and led her to Little Versailles.

There were no musicians, the candles above their heads were unlit but it didn’t matter. They stood and faced each other. She placed her hand on his shoulder, he lightly clasped her waist and they danced a waltz as if a full orchestra provided the rhythm. As they danced Louisa lowered her head onto Edward’s shoulder and closed her eyes, enjoying the sensation of freedom from fear. Around the ballroom the gilt mirrors monitored the progress of a solo dancer, dressed in black, who appeared to float around the vast room.

The End.

Copyright retained by Denise J. Hale.
Any resemblance to any living, dead or undead person is purely subjective.
(I’ve always wanted to write that line!)