more dangerous.”
She looked anxious for his reaction, but for once he agreed with her. “You’re right, beloved. Safer to keep an eye on her, no?”
Charlotte relaxed. “It will be all right, Karl. Play for me again.”
This time she remained beside him, sitting on the carpet with her head resting on his thigh as he played. The strings were responsive under his fingers; he’d lost none of his once-human touch. The slow melody drew them deeper into the lake of sensuality. Sharing a victim had generated a richer desire that they could only sate on each other. Each felt the moment drawing nearer… the unutterable joy of fulfilment becoming deliciously, languorously inevitable.
Karl played the last note, and leaned down to kiss Charlotte. Her tongue touched his lips, parted his teeth; he tasted blood in the sweetness of her mouth.
“I always remember the first time you kissed me,” she whispered. “Do you?”
“In the garden at Parkland Hall, on the bridge. I had tried for so long not to give in.”
“And you said that you were bound to hurt me.”
“But that night you came to my room anyway,” he said, his words running into hers. “I knew that if we went any further I might be unable to control the blood thirst, but I couldn’t stop.”
“Nor could I. I didn’t care about the consequences, my reputation or anything. Even when you said you couldn’t marry me. The secrecy was terrible. It almost broke my heart, knowing it couldn’t last, but not knowing why.”
“I could hardly have told you I was a vampire.”
“I wish you had, instead of the way I did find out! But I can’t regret it. The secrecy was also delicious, knowing we shared a bond that no one around us guessed.”
“Your father would have wished to kill me,” Karl said, smiling.
“And I thought David
had
killed you. Gods, when I thought I’d never see you again – I’ve no idea why I didn’t die of a broken heart.”
“Because you’re strong.”
“No… because I couldn’t bear to believe you were gone forever. I thought if I hung on long enough, I could will you back into existence.”
“In a way, you did. Ah, but I would not have put you through what happened for anything.”
“But it was inevitable,” she said, “from that moment on the bridge…”
Their mouths touched. A faint, unwelcome sense of intrusion made Karl draw away from her. He sat back in the chair, sighing.
“What is it?” she asked, puzzled.
“You are not concentrating,” he said. “We have visitors.”
* * *
Not visitors, but a deputation, Charlotte observed, trying to be as effortlessly courteous as Karl. Ilona, Karl’s wayward daughter; blue-eyed, callous Pierre; Stefan and his mute twin, Niklas. With them came two immortals whom Charlotte had never met: Rachel, a white, rarefied creature with scarlet hair, and a small, monk-like man named John.
Charlotte was always pleased to see Stefan. She greeted him with a kiss. He smiled, but his bright, cornflower-blue gaze avoided hers.
“What brings you here?” she asked.
“This is a little awkward,” he said softly, moving to Niklas’s side. Both blond and china-skinned, their only physical difference was eye-colour. Niklas’s irises were pale gold. His movements echoed Stefan’s in mindless, silent reflection of his twin.
“Don’t be coy,” Ilona snapped. “We’re here to talk about Violette Lenoir.” As always she looked exquisite, a perfect fashion plate with her bobbed hair, a sleek unstructured dress of dusky red flowing to just below her knees, a black silk rose on one hip.
“What is there to say about her?” Charlotte was instantly defensive. Karl quietly took the visitors’ coats, betraying no reaction.
“You tell us,” said Ilona, “what there is to say about Violette.”
Without asking, Ilona wound up the gramophone and put on a record. The thin, cheerful lilt of a jazz band made an incongruous background as the vampires seated themselves around the
Jim Marrs, Richard Dolan, Bryce Zabel