4-4
Coming up from the ball, and she’d been doing just fine right up ’til the door closed and it all went wrong. It started off with a kiss, how did it end up like this? It was only a kiss. It was only a kiss… Now Elaine’s on her back and her everything hurts, and there’s blood dripping slow from those half-open lips, padlock hands around wrists. And she’s still in that dress, but it’s all out of place, so she can still feel her…
“Who are you?” Vilena asked again, tightening the grip on Elaine’s wrists until they hurt.
The pain wasn’t enough to fully snap her back into the present, but the harsh slap of Vilena’s words was enough to jostle Elaine’s memory back into place. They’d fought. Elaine had struggled greatly, throwing all strength she possessed into the bout, but it was doomed from the start. They were both unarmed, but Vilena was a vampire, and so possessed the far greater strength. Moreover, her attire was so thinly constructed, the fabric barely even serving to conceal the image of her body, let alone the contours of it, that it did not serve to constrict her motions in the slightest. The same could not be said for Elaine’s ballgown: her legs had been effectively removed from the competition from the start.
No wonder, then, that Elaine had ended up pinned to the mattress with her hands held above her head. Vilena, meanwhile, was bent like a bow so that her knees could reach up high enough to press down on Elaine’s hips. Adding insult to injury.
Why hadn’t she stopped her? Why hadn’t she done anything at all? She’d let the vampire take her upstairs, let her take her into an isolated room, let her sit so very close at her side, even though Elaine’s oath of chastity was just as strong as it had been when she’d first made it fifteen years ago! Some force, from within or without, had coiled itself around her limbs and soothed away all resistance.
A million excuses and a million accusations swirled in Elaine’s mind. Surely the vampire had used some power on her; but she had felt nothing. This was a failure of willpower, Elaine at last overcome by her base human nature; but would she have said such a thing to her own father when he confessed how Elaine had come to be born? The fact of the violation was without question, but so too could Elaine find no point at which she had actually thought to disagree until it was already too late. The pounding thrum of her own flesh was louder than any possible logic, deafening her reason because at long last—
The steel bar of Vilena’s forearm fell across Elaine’s throat with just enough force to be felt. “I said. Who. Are. You? You’re not who you claim to be, you fight like a soldier. Explain yourself!”
Elaine let the guilt fade, though the residue of what she had done was impossible to dismiss. “My real name is—”
Vilena grimaced in disgust. “I don’t care about that. What are you doing here? Who sent you?”
“None sent me,” Elaine answered, letting Juniper’s lessons about modern vocabulary slip away from her. “I and my conspirators bade infiltrate this castle for the salvation of a young girl, whom your master has kept captive here for over a fortnight now.”
At once, the vampire’s snarling anger faded, her expression rendered blank. “A girl? What is her name? How old is she? What did she do?”
Elaine hesitated. It was, of course, generally wise to give one’s enemies as little information as possible. But chances were that if she had any dealing with Zahra at all, she would already know these things.
“She is hight Zahra, and she is eight years of age. Of Furati stock is she, and sickly constitution. I have little doubt that being held in bondage here will not have brought improvement to her condition.”
Vilena didn’t move, and when Elaine once more tried to twist herself out of the vampire’s grasp, she was met with just as little success as the last several times. But no more questions were asked, and in the slightest turning of Vilena’s lips Elaine could see a growing sense of disgust. Then someone knocked, hard, on the door.
“Lady Vilena, are you in there? There’s been a disturbance, we’ve caught an intruder! Your Lord wants to know if you’re alright.”
Elaine had been so busy fighting Vilena that she had barely even noticed the palace being shaken by a massive explosive blast coming from somewhere up above. Of course that had been Sara’s fault. And now she’d gotten caught, maybe with Juniper right alongside her, meaning it was time for Elaine to be thrown into the dungeon too.
Except that Vilena, against all expectation, did not immediately cry that she had caught another member of the intruder’s party. She instead glared down into Elaine’s eyes, as though daring her to speak a word.
“I am doing quite well for myself in here, quite well indeed. Now leave me to my business.”
The man on the other side of the door gave a frightened apology before quickly scurrying away. After a few seconds, Elaine was once more totally alone with a vampire. A vampire who had just kept her presence and mission a secret.
Vilena continued to glare down at her captive prey, and with each second her anger grew more intense, every muscle in her body stiffening, her eyes becoming inflamed with fury. Elaine remained stalwart in the face of her increasingly-certain violent death, but that death failed to come. Vilena’s anger only curdled and stiffened until it seemed as if she were about to turn to stone.
“If you try to run, I’ll drink you dry,” she said at length.
“Why not let your men have me, then?”
Vilena took the pressure off of Elaine’s throat first, then let go of her wrists. It wasn’t until she did that Elaine realized her hands had fully fallen asleep. She clutched them to her chest and let the blood flow back into them, but did not dare to take her eyes off of Vilena, in case she decided to attack.
Instead of attacking, Vilena slipped off the bed and drifted over to one of the room’s elaborately-decorated walls, leaning her forehead up against it, arms pressed to the wood like a prisoner clinging to the bars of his cell. It was a strikingly beautiful image, not helped by the way that her forward lean, combined with the sheer fabric of her dress, drew attention downwards, towards the powerful bulk of her hips. Like an amazon of old, tall, strong, and curvaceous…
Elaine slammed her eyes shut and muttered the first few phrases of the Ave Maria. One paroxysm of lustful overwhelm and she had lost all control of her wandering gaze.
When she reopened her eyes, desire purged from her being, she saw a woman in the grip of anguish. Her nails left deep scars in the wall, carving down to the stone, and though she did not breathe, her shoulders still heaved with emotion. A low sound emerged from her throat: at first Elaine thought it was hissing or growling, but as the seconds passed it revealed itself to be a series of racking, awful sobs.
Elaine didn’t understand. This was a vampire she was dealing with, a monster wearing the shell of a human. Vampires could not feel remorse, could not feel shame or sadness, meaning that this must have been a trick to get her to lower her guard. But why the need for deception at all? She was unarmed, and Vilena had already chosen not to kill her multiple times over. Elaine suddenly took note of a small footstool in the corner, and came to a decision.
Getting up off the bed in all of her skirts was tricky to say the least, but Juniper had taught her how to do it. Once she was on her own two feet again, she went for the stool, and with a little bit of effort snapped one of its legs in half, leaving herself with a nice, sharp length of wood.
Approaching Vilena slowly, she asked, “What have you to cry about, blood-drinker?”
Vilena glared at her from under her arm, eyes stained pink and fangs bared with a genuine fury much more frightening than anything she’d displayed up to that moment. It, too, faded after a few seconds, replaced by a grimace of pure misery.
“Everything, my dear. Everything and a little bit extra.”
Having said her piece, apparently, Vilena returned to silently moping in her corner. Elaine continued to close the distance, stake in hand. With each step she took it looked increasingly likely that the vampire had become numb to the world, leaving herself totally open for a single killing ambush. Striking the heart from the back wouldn’t be an easy process, but if anyone could manage it, it would be Elaine.
Just as she firmed her grip on the stake, measuring out the angle and cocking back her shoulder for a powerful strike, Elaine was interrupted by a small voice whispering into her ear. It was a delicate voice, painfully feminine, liquid with pity and gentleness. It was not Dindrane’s voice.
She’s done naught to hurt thee. At least, not by her intention.
Elaine’s hand loosened, and the stake dropped to the floor. A knight was still a knight, even with the remnants of her vow of chastity soiling her petticoats, and the chivalric code placed more value upon mercy than upon any other thing short of loyalty itself. Vilena was a sinful woman, not to mention whatever choice had led to her becoming a vampire, but had not Christ walked among prostitutes and lepers?
“You have spared my life,” Elaine said. “Now what? Shall you keep me as your own? Throw me out and lock the doors after?”
“You have a group, yes? Let me aid you in rescuing this ‘Zahra’, swear to me that you will take me with you, take me away from here, let me prove my loyalty to you.”
“For what cause should I do such thing?”
Vilena turned away from the wall, tossing her hair back as she gathered her strength to her once more. The first question had been spoken with the fear of a beaten child, but now she was much more defiant.
“Because, if I am to allow this latest of my husband’s sins to drive me at last to rebellion, I do not wish to put myself alone in the cold. Promise a place for me, and I will help you rescue Zahra.”
It finally dawned on her. With Sara taken captive and Elaine found out, the mission had already gone wholly sideways: having the aid of an insider might have been the only way to ensure Zahra’s freedom. Even if that insider was a vampire. The same pity that Elaine felt for the creature before her, cursed and bound to bloodlust, was the very feeling that had stolen Dindrane away.
But the voice had been correct: Vilena had stayed her hand when she had had every right to kill Elaine or send her away. She was not giving pity to a creature which held none for her.
“Very well. In the name of the Lord Jesu, I swear alliance to you: betray me not, and I shall betray you not, and recommend you to my allies.”
Vilena’s expression flickered. “Why do you talk like that?”
Elaine rolled her eyes. “I am a backarounder. My death was some fourteen centuries before this time.”
She would have to keep explaining that again and again for the rest of her life. It was only now starting to sink in what an annoyance that would be.
“Very well then, Christian girl,” Vilena said, spitting the word ‘Christian’ with disdain that made Elaine want to change her mind. “We are allied. Do you know how to use any weapons?”
Elaine’s mind immediately went back to the sword and shield that had been on display in the room outside. The construction of them was odd, but the edge of the sword was sharp. “I do.”
“Good. You’ll need them.”
With that, Vilena made for the door of the room, forcing Elaine to rush to catch up to her as she shouldered her way out of the door. “Why should we have need of arms?” she said, tripping over her skirts as she went. “Have you not freedom over the whole of this estate?”
Vilena didn’t stop moving. “You’re suggesting a stealthy approach?”
“Aye.”
Vilena laughed. “Why would I ever do something like that?”
Elaine almost got left behind when she reached the mounted sword and shield, Vilena far too eager to go on the attack. But she couldn’t just take them down and keep going: Juniper had included much training about how to move while in a bustled dress, but nothing about how to use a sword in one. She went through all the motions that she could, twirling blade and shield together, learning the weight of the weapon and the exact point at which the dress prevented her from moving. It was easier than she might have feared.
Vilena arrived partway into the process, having noticed that Elaine had fallen behind, and watched in rapt attention. Elaine noticed her presence, but paid little mind to her, not when the sword was more important. Only as she slowed, confident that she could carry herself as well as could be expected, did she notice the expression on Vilena’s face.
The wide eyes, the fallen-open mouth. All that she was missing was a blush and some panting breaths—both impossible for a dead woman—and she would be the very picture of female passion. Despite Elaine’s travesty, her cotton-stuffing breasts and the many pounds of corsetry, Vilena was still looking at her the same way as noble ladies used to look at her when she wore a shirt that was cut too tightly.
“I am ready,” Elaine said. “This sword and shield will do.”
Vilena tried to say something, only to choke on her own saliva for a moment. After a forced cough, she said, “downstairs, we go downstairs, to the ballroom. If there was an intruder caught, many of the guards will be down there trying to search for collaborators amongst the guests.”
Elaine nodded. A moment later, while they took the stairs down, a question occurred to her. “Have you any idea where Zahra might be kept?”
Vilena shook her head. “The dungeons are below. She might be there? But if Lord Ruthven intends for her what I fear he does, he would not treat her as a common prisoner. I do not know.”
That was all that needed to be said. The ballroom was still quite tightly packed, but the mood had changed drastically. People were still talking, but nobody was dancing, and the talk was entirely rumor-mongering about what had happened over the last few minutes, what had been done that got all the guards up in arms and who it had been who done it.
Groups of House Ruthven guards, uniformed and rifle-bearing, moved in threes and fours through the gathered mass, interrogating anyone they didn’t recognize. Off in the far corner of the room, a man with a thick accent was shouting about the poor treatment he was being given, while an Englishman tried to appeal to his sense of fairness. Anyone could have done it, after all.
Vilena cared little for any of this. She zeroed in on the nearest group of guards, three of them standing watch near the staircase. She hurried across the floor towards them, shoulders hunched and teeth bared. The men instantly went to attention before their master’s woman, asking what was the matter.
The instant she got to within arm’s reach of the nearest of them, he was dead. The movement of her arm was so swift as to be nearly invisible, opening up his entire neck with a single swipe of her claws. Vilena pressed herself to him, taking one long drink of his lifeblood, then turned to mist, passing through the falling man to attack the next. His desperate, confused questions were silenced by a scream of agony as Vilena grabbed his arm and pulled it back and around, ripping it first out of joint and then off of his body entirely.
The third guard in the squad fumbled with his rifle, but was unable to get off a shot. Vilena clubbed him over the head with his comrade’s dismembered arm, turning his skull into pulp.
That done, she latched onto Elaine, eyes so furiously bright and mouth so soaked in blood that she was afraid this was the end. Instead, pawing ferociously at Elaine’s midriff and with her voice sopping with lust, Vilena said,
“It has been so long since last I danced with anyone I did not despise. Will you dance with me, Elaine?”