in the sea of blood in your mind? All those you have killed and lain in waste? Will you forget my name as well?”
He laughed, cruel and dark, and he sank down over her again. She held her breath as he nuzzled his cheek against hers and kissed her earlobe. “Pray that I do. For if you remain as enticing as you are to me now for even but a day’s length longer, I think I shall never grow bored of you. I fear then you will come to hate me even more.”
When she felt tears escape her eyes and streak into her hair, he let out a low disappointed hum. He kissed the tears away, one side and then the other. “No. No tears, my darling. You are too strong for that.” He straightened. “I can hear your thoughts. You are caught in turmoil. You fight me, even as you wish for me to hold you in my arms. Why do you resist the happiness I can bring you? Why you insist on remaining alone in this world?”
His words left a gaping hole in her armor. Then it came to her. The answer to his question. She tried to keep it away, tried to hold it back. But it was like holding back the tide with a teacup. It was futile.
And he could hear her thoughts as she could sense his emotions.
He grinned fiendishly. “Oh, my darling child…” He tore the blanket from her, tossing it aside, and he was suddenly there in its place, his leg between hers, his dark peacoat draping over her.
He kissed her again, and this time insistence and desire was what spurred him on. But it was no less bruising. His fingers slipped to the back of her neck and lifted her into him, wanting more of her.
It isn’t the death he’s caused that scares me.
I’m not even afraid he’ll kill me like all the rest.
I’m afraid in the end I won’t matter. I’ll be another cobblestone in the empty streets he walks alone.
I do not want to bring him more heartbreak.
He chased away her thoughts with his embrace. Pushed away those emotions and replaced them with his own. He would have her. He would keep her. He was all that mattered now. His fingers twisted in the drawstring of her underwear, and she knew what he planned.
Something tore through her like lightning.
Her hand flew to his and stopped him. He parted his lips from hers, and she felt his breath, warming as it was, against her cheek. “You are correct. These things should not be rushed. And in my coffin is not where you should be taken for the first time.”
He climbed off her and back out of the casket and tugged on his clothing to straighten it. “I wish to take you to the opera tonight. Will you join me?”
She looked down at her lap for a moment and thought it through. She had no real ability to say no. More terrible was that she wanted to say yes.
She nodded once, silently.
“I will have Walter bring you some proper clothes.” He leaned his head down to kiss her forehead. “I will return in an hour. I have some business to attend in the meanwhile.”
Before she could say a word, he was gone.
She jolted, startled. She would have to learn to adjust to his abrupt comings and goings. She shook her head. She was torn in two.
I fear him. I want him. He walks in darkness alone, but so do I.
He is a monster, bathed in blood. This means my death…
She shut her eyes.
But perhaps he is right. Perhaps this is meant to be.
As he had promised, clothing was brought to her. The red-haired vampire was a bashful thing, for all his outward stoicism. Walter didn’t even look at her as he placed the stack of fabric by the door and nearly fled the room. She donned her corset and her dress, even if the laces were not pulled as tightly as society would have insisted. She found no means by which to pin up her hair in the supplies she had been brought. She was certain her hairpins were omitted on purpose.
He did very much prefer her hair down, it seemed. She sighed. It was improper for this day and age, but she also decided he likely did not care.
She did her best to braid her hair. Finally, once she was dressed, she went to leave the room and explore her new