A Dance in Blood Velvet (65 page)

No one spoke or drew a breath. They all saw that she was different, a black sun shining on them. She went on, “I know what I am, and yet I don’t. I can’t explain. All I know is that I am damned forever because I disobeyed God. His messengers came and gave me a new chance of redemption by lying underneath a disgusting man with too high an opinion of himself.
I could not give them what they wanted
. Neither Lancelyn nor I were what others thought. He was pride and I was the fall. A sacred marriage of Heaven and Earth, Benedict?” She spoke with contempt. “It was just a nasty, degrading fumbling - but he didn’t succeed. I won’t be possessed by anyone. I obey no one, not even God.” She laughed. “I can’t even obey myself! If I am a monster, Charlotte, you made me so.”

“I hate to suggest this,” said Andreas, “but is it possible that
she
is the leader who is going to replace Kristian? Even he used to call Lilith our mother, our creatrix.”

Violette’s arms tightened around herself. “I wasn’t sent to lead you! I was sent to bring chaos! My business isn’t to guide you, but make your lives hell. And I hope I do, because mine is hell.”

Her gaze was on Charlotte, blue flames of passionate hatred.

“That is unfair,” Charlotte retorted. At last, a spark of anger.

“I can’t live with this evil, I can’t bear the thirst!”

“Yes, you can.” Charlotte seized her arms and wouldn’t let her go. “You tell me this was your fate, then you blame me for it; you can’t have it both ways. Take responsibility for yourself. Accept the thirst. It’s part of you now!”

“Give me your blood, then.” Violette’s lips drew back and Karl saw her white fangs extending. Charlotte pulled back, startled, but the dancer’s hands flew out and held her. “What’s wrong? You were so eager to give it before. You took my life - give me something back!”

Karl and Katerina were moving towards them, too late. With a lithe twist, Violette bore Charlotte down and pressed her onto the hard floor. “Why didn’t you end my life, as I asked? I’ll end yours, for what you’ve done to me!”

Karl clamped his hands on Violette’s shoulders, but her strength was immense, her limbs pliable yet immoveable. Her mouth was open, her long hard fangs a breath away from Charlotte’s throat. Karl held her there but could not shift her; it was like trying to prise a limpet from a rock. Then Andreas came to help and at last, inch by inch, they hauled Violette away.

Katerina helped Charlotte to her feet, and drew her away protectively. Still Violette went on straining towards her in Karl’s grip, eerily quiet in her rage, a lethal black sea-serpent. Charlotte’s face was alight with hurt and anger.

“I think I’d better take her away from here,” said Katerina, holding Charlotte’s arm.

“Yes, go, both of you,” said Karl.

“No!” Charlotte cried. “Let me talk to her.”

“She’s not listening to reason,” Karl said tightly. It took all his and Andrei’s combined strength to hold her. “Go with Katti. I’ll find you later, don’t worry. Go, before she breaks free!”

“Don’t bother with Ben’s car, it’s broken down,” said Andreas.

Finally seeing that Karl was right, that the danger from Violette was real, Charlotte let Katerina take her to the central doors that led towards the entrance hall. She looked back over her shoulder, distressed. “Karl, don’t hurt her!”

Karl felt empty amusement. There was far more chance of Violette injuring him - and still Charlotte was concerned for her.

When the two women had gone, he felt Violette relax, but did not ease his grip. He didn’t trust her. Ben, who’d been listening in silence, said bitterly, “I’ve had enough. Get her out, Karl, I mean it. I never want to see any of you, ever again.”

“That sentiment is mutual.”

Ben gave a grunt of disgust. “I’m going to see how my brother is.”

As he strode out, Andreas said, “Well, what the hell are we going to do?”

“Keep her here for as long as necessary.”

“Don’t talk about me as if I’m not here!” the dancer said coldly.

“I was answering my friend’s question,” said Karl. “Whatever your grievance against Charlotte, I can’t allow you to harm her.”

“Who are you to ‘allow’ me anything?” Her voice fell, losing its clarity. “She did this to me. I said yes, but she’d cajoled me, she never told me how it would be! Don’t tell me what to do. You don’t know how I feel.”

Andreas said in exasperation, “Do you think you’re the only one who’s ever suffered? It’s hard for us all. The blood is the consolation, not the penance!”

“You don’t know what the blood is to me!”

Karl shook his head to silence Andreas. He said more gently, “Violette, please calm down so we can talk.”

“Why in hell’s name would you want to talk to me? You hate me! Leave me alone so I can think.”

“I’m not leaving you,” Karl said wearily. “I don’t trust you.”

“You’re under an illusion if you think there’s anything you can say to make me feel better, or calm me down, or make me into a sweet-natured beauty like your Stefan. I am in agony! I don’t need anyone to tell me how I
should
feel. I need no one to care, because I don’t care a damn for any of you.” Violette seemed relaxed in Karl’s hands now, light and poised. “Lancelyn degraded me, but what I did was worse.”

She caught her breath on the last words, sobbed. And before Karl felt her move, she slipped from his hands and was racing out of the door after Katti and Charlotte.

Karl and Andreas gave chase. Outside was a landing, a magnificent flight of stairs curving down to the hall and an ironclad oak door standing open to the hillside. But no sign of Violette.

“God, she’s fled into the Crystal Ring,” said Karl.

“But Charlotte and Katti can’t; they were too weak,” said Andreas. “And I can’t. You?”

Karl stretched his senses towards the astral realm, felt nothing. Rasmila’s strength had deserted him. He shook his head, started downstairs. “Simon and his friends have handicapped us, but we still have our feet. Our only hope is that Violette doesn’t know the Ring. She’ll be disorientated and lose her way.”

* * *

“I don’t want to leave her,” Charlotte said as they ran down the valley. “If I could only talk to her...”

“She wasn’t listening,” said Katerina. “You can’t see how dangerous she is!”

“Of course I can! That doesn’t mean I can desert her.”

“Do stop arguing. Give her a chance to calm down, at least.”

The hills were ghostly in the lingering mist. Although vampire sight could cut through the haze, Charlotte felt drenched and chilled. She was light-headed with hunger. Since the angels fed on her, it would take time for her full strength to return. Until then, weakness bound her to Earth and muffled her senses.

Through a mass of coppery mist-veiled trees she saw houses up on the hillsides, cottages along the winding valley.

As they passed Ben’s broken-down car, Katerina said, “We’ll soon find another motor.” Then she stopped, her hand on Charlotte’s arm.

They heard the deep slow chuff of an engine, a shrill whistle, saw clouds of white steam rising beyond the trees.

“The train!” said Katerina. “Nothing could be easier.”

Charlotte laughed. So bizarre, to be fleeing on foot and rushing through the barrier of the tiny station like fugitives.
What must we look like?
Neither was wearing a coat. She was so dizzy with hunger she feared she must look drunk to onlookers.

Katerina guided her onto the platform; Charlotte hadn’t seen her buy tickets, but it was easy to seduce officials with a certain look. A cold breeze blew along the line. Charlotte was only half-aware of climbing into the train through the steam billowing from the engine, of following Katerina down the narrow corridor to a compartment. Only two empty seats out of six. The train moved off as they sat down side by side. The other passengers were looking while pretending not to look.

The aroma of human blood all around was a virulent itch that Charlotte could not relieve. How strange this all appeared through her blood-delirium.
Years since I was on a train,
she thought, taking in the polished wood and neat brass fittings, the gas-lamps, the worn upholstery ingrained with the smell of tobacco. How drab the other passengers were in their dark blues and browns. There were two middle-aged women talking, a round-faced schoolgirl pressing her nose to the window while her well-dressed mother read a book and smoked. The blue skeins from her cigarette rose towards the ceiling, mingling with the sulphurous stink of the engine.

The noise and stench wrapped around Charlotte like armour, protecting her from the piercing tug of blood.
I can’t feed on these people,
she thought.
How ordinary they are. I’ve spent all my time with Karl and Katerina, with Stefan and Violette... It’s as if I’d forgotten these people existed! I used to live among them. I used to be like them. How dull, how prosaic, and yet
...

They spoke to her of safety. Of homeliness, kindness, humour. The wondrous, ordinary world that she had lost.

Charlotte bit her lip against sudden tears, closed her eyes. Katerina touched her hand and said, “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Just the hunger,” Charlotte murmured.

One of the women, rosy-cheeked under the wide brim of her hat, leaned across and said, “Hungry, are you, me duck? Here you are, I’ve got some sandwiches. Brought ’em fer’ t’ journey, but you look us if you need ’em more than us.”

Charlotte stared aghast at the greasy white package that the woman was waving under her nose. “No - no thank you, I couldn’t. Really.”

The woman sat back, tutting good-naturedly. “You young people don’t eat properly. They don’t, do they, Mabel? Well, they’re here if you change yer mind, love.”

“Thank you,” said Katerina. “My friend is a little unwell.”

“Eeh, ah’m not surprised, running about wi’out y’coats on, you’ll catch your death. What are you thinking of? You young people.”

Her friend, Mabel, nodded sagely. They meant no offence, Charlotte knew; they were a pair of mother hens, generous-hearted, not a bad thought in their heads. And she wanted to take them, and -

“My friend needs peace and quiet. Excuse us,” said Katerina. She turned in towards Charlotte, pointedly cutting off their eager expressions of concern.

“I’m all right,” Charlotte whispered. “Just light-headed.” Outside the window, hills and deep autumnal valleys rushed by. “And you?”

“I’ll survive. I think we have to change trains for London. I’ll ask when the guard comes.”

“Ooh, no, me duck!” said the woman. “This train’s fer London, from Manchester, straight through. Long way t’go wi’out food.” She made to thrust the repellent package at them again, but Katerina stared at her, and she fell silent. Charlotte knew how easy, how very easy it would be to bewitch them all, the kind women and the immaculate mother and her child, to bite into their lovely red flesh...

She stood, hauled open the glass door, and escaped into the dark brown corridor. Katerina followed, sliding the door shut; cutting off the lure. “What is it?”

“I can’t feed on them, I simply can’t.”

“Well, it’s not a good idea, in broad daylight, with witnesses.” Charlotte didn’t bother to explain her real reasons. “Come along, let’s go to the end, out of sight,” Katerina added. “We could get off at the next station, feed, and then continue.”

“I’m glad I’m not alone,” Charlotte said, clasping Katerina’s hand. “I’m glad we made peace at last.”

The corridor swayed and rattled under their feet as they walked past a row of crowded compartments. Sudden darkness fell over the windows, and the train’s noise was sucked to a different pitch as they passed through a tunnel. Daylight returned, but Katerina seemed arrested by shock. The moment passed and she shook herself. “Foolish ever to have argued. Karl can cope with Violette; she’ll calm down soon, I’m sure. There’s nothing to worry about now. You will see.”

Charlotte smiled half-heartedly. She needed reassurance, needed Katerina’s authority and warmth. Torture to recall the anguish in Violette’s face. And what if she hurt Karl?
No, don’t think of it. But God, this need for blood...

At the end of the carriage, where the corridor opened into a space for the outside doors, Charlotte leaned against a wooden partition wall and sighed.

“This was a mistake,” she said.

“No, it was an ideal opportunity.” Katerina slid down the window in the right-hand door, leaned out for a moment. Cold air blew in. Then she turned to Charlotte and rested a hand on her shoulder. “It won’t be long now.”

“I can bear it.”

“Were you feeling sorry for yourself, among those mortal passengers? You don’t want to live their drab lives, do you? See how poor they are, how they struggle to maintain their petty respectability. They get ill, their noses run, they eat and excrete and squabble and die. How could you envy them, when you had Karl? And yet you gave him up for Violette. You don’t deserve him.” Katerina’s tone was gentle, more chiding than critical.

Charlotte said softly, “That isn’t fair. I never gave him up.”

“Never mind. Everything will be as it should.” Katerina’s rose-red mouth widened, and Charlotte saw her pupils expanding in the velvet irises. Suddenly they were black drops of blood; demon eyes. Bitter poison oozed at last though her sweetness. “Just the three of us. Karl, and me... and Andrei.”

Katerina lunged, and her fangs stabbed into Charlotte’s neck.

Charlotte went rigid under the deadly grip. She was lightning-struck by betrayal, by her own blindness.
Why didn’t I guess?
she cried silently. But she’d been lulled by thirst and complacency, so wanting to believe their rivalry was over...

“I thought...” she trailed off.
I thought we were friends.
Pointless to say it. The weight of Katerina’s body pressed her against the woodwork and the train’s chugging roared in her ears. She was drifting out of her body. Hallucinating. Weirdly, it was almost pleasant. Sensual. Katerina’s victims must fall willingly...

But don’t panic,
Charlotte thought, holding herself still.
She can’t kill me. There’s only so much blood she can take and it will hurt, but I won’t die. Be strong. It will soon be over
.