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“Will you let me in?”
He could only stare at her, his eyes wide and very dark.
She was standing outside his window, high, high up in the air, her hand pressed against the glazing. Snow was drifting in.
A lonely girl, freezing in the bitterly cold wind. A demon.
He knew enough to be afraid.
A distant part of him, still aware of danger, wanted him to run. He couldn’t. He fought to clear that strange fog that had settled over his mind, but there was no shaking it.
Nadja watched, a slow smile appearing on her face. She had been observing him for a while, but this was the first time that she was this close to him. His body was still warm from sleep, his features softened by it.
She could see through his skin to the blood in his veins, to the beating heart in his chest.
His hand closed tighter around the window handle.
Slowly, he nodded. It wasn’t enough.
“You have to say that I can come in”, she urged.
The muscles of his neck moved, and a peculiar expression crossed his face. It was there, then gone. He took a step aside.
“Of course”, he said, his voice a little hoarse with disuse. “Of course, you can come in.”
She stepped through the window, almost floated into the lavishly furnished room. A low fire was burning. He closed the window behind her, shutting out the December chill.
In this very grand house, there was no one but him. Even the servants who were there during the day were gone at night; they preferred to stay down in the village.
When he turned to look at her, he seemed a little clearer, more awake. He fought the hypnosis better than most. Not that it made any difference now.
“How…how did you get up here?”, he asked, as if suddenly remembering that his bedroom was on the third floor of the building.
She smiled. “I flew.”
He stared at her. In his chest, his heart began to pound.
“I heard your music”, she said, pointing to the piano that stood in the room. “You play beautifully.”
The ghost of a smile appeared on his face. He did not seem to be aware of it.
It was the truth. It was his music that had led her here, all the way from London to his country estate.
Make no mistake. The man was no innocent, was afflicted by all manner of vices and wickedness. But the music he had inside of him! Music that spoke of a strange kind of loneliness. Music that brought tears to her eyes.
She had heard him play and had simply known.
“Who are you?” he asked, his eyes searching her face.
“A friend”, she answered, stepping closer. She raised her hand and caressed his cheek.
It was her touch that startled him out of his trance. He closed his eyes, just for the length of a heartbeat, and when he opened them, his gaze was suddenly alert.
Surprised, Nadja dropped her hand. This she had not expected. He caught her wrist and drew in a sharp breath.
His thoughts were racing, she could almost hear them. It came to him then.
“I have seen you before”, he said, his eyes flickering. “I know you.”
“Perhaps you do”, she conceded. “Perhaps you have seen me before.”
Curious as to what he would do, she didn’t withdraw. Then, she felt his thumb brushing over her palm.
“I must be dreaming”, he said eventually, shaking his head. It seemed the only logical explanation.
“Maybe”, she smiled.
He looked down at her pale fingers. “You are cold.”
The softness of his voice surprised her. He reached for her other hand and cupped them both in his, lifting them to his mouth. A strange rush went through her as he kissed the spot he had warmed. Had she been mortal still, the gesture would have made her blush.
She stepped into his embrace. Closing his eyes, he sank his face into her hair. His hands slid up her shoulder blades. Human warmth seeped into her body, the scent of his skin washed over her. Nadja, too, closed her eyes, allowing herself to indulge in the moment. She wrapped her arms around him.
She was not sure how long they stood like this before he raised his fingertips to her cheek. His thumb brushed softly over her lips, and he rested his forehead against hers.
Their faces were touching, his mouth was so close to hers. The impulse was a dark one, and she followed it.
With the tip of her tongue, she traced the curve of his lip, tasting his mouth. The caress, as light as it was, seemed to hit him like a blow. He took a step back, his eyes wide, his muscles tensing. Suddenly, he seemed to know that this was not a dream after all.
For a moment, all he could do was stare at her. His heart was beating faster, and she felt the inrush of blood, the sudden swell of nerves. She held his gaze. That was all it took.
He reached for the lacings of her dress. Nadja had to hide her smile as he undid the searing ribbons one by one.
He pushed the gown off her shoulders, exposing dazzling white skin. The wing of her collarbone, the curve of her breast. She saw him take a shallow breath. Then, he brought his mouth to her skin, trailing his tongue up the arch of her throat.
Nadja weaved her fingers through his thick hair, touching the back of his neck. The nightshirt he was wearing was quickly discarded. With delight she noticed that he shivered underneath her gaze, albeit briefly.
He spun her around and wrapped her in his arms. Reaching into her loosened stays, he cupped her, his fingertips teasing her. She gasped and arched her back, leaning further into his touch. The reaction of her own body was startling. Inside of her, hunger was raging like a fire.
He nipped at her shoulder and her neck; his lips grazed the shell of her ear. He helped her hike up her skirts, bunching them up in his fist. He reached down, feeling for naked flesh. Slowly, his fingertips trailed up the inside of her thigh, until he found what he was looking for.
For a moment, he only held her, and she let out a shaky breath, pressing herself against the hardness of his body.
His hands, his fingers, caressing delicate skin. Soon, she was shivering under his touch. Soon, he was slick with her. His hands, she decided in that moment, was what she loved the most. He smiled against her skin.
Very well then, she thought.
She turned and discarded her opened dress, letting the heavy fabric fall to the floor. He wasn’t smiling anymore. Blind to all but her and his pleasure, he let her lead him to his bed, let her guide him on top of her.
He bit her breasts, then kissed the tender flesh. She hissed and arched her back, offering herself up. He lifted her hips towards him, and she wrapped her legs around his waist.
Nadja laughed and drew her fingernails down his back, all the way from the nape of his neck to the base of his spine. Lightly, just enough to leave faint, red traces on his skin. A violent shiver went through him.
He softly held her chin and their eyes met as he slid inside of her. This time, a tremor passed through them both. The intensity of it forced her eyes shut. He groaned and hid his face against her neck.
For a moment, they were both still. Then, she felt his fingertips trace up the length of her forearm. His hand slipped into hers and their fingers interlaced. His lips found hers.
There was a ghostly flutter in her chest, a sensation Nadja had no way of explaining. All she was aware of was that he was kissing her, and of a sweetness that seemed to flow from his mouth into hers, and lower, deeper into her body. Had she ever felt anything like this?
Nadja listened to his quickening blood beats. With each of his thrusts, she grew hungrier. “Now”, she heard his voice beg. “Now…”
Indeed, it was time to finish this. She made him roll onto his back, and he laughed. His hands came to her hips and held her in place. He gasped as she moved, abandoning herself up to her own pleasure.
The smile he gave her was open, full of astonishment. He looked up at her with such longing, it nearly broke her heart.
He was caressing her, filling his hands with her. He touched his fingertips to the point where her collarbones met and drew a straight line, lightly, all the way down. The feeling was delicious.
He groaned and his head rolled back. She knew he was halfway on the peak of an excruciating sensation. When he could no longer defend himself, she stretched out her arms.
She was all pale skin and smooth limbs. A hideous, leathery bat creature.
He gasped with fright and she descended, sinking her teeth into his neck. He cried out, and yet, he did not even think to try and push her off. The pain, the pleasure, it was overpowering, it was delightful. He trembled and raised himself, spilling himself into her, waves of blood and salty foam. His heart was racing now, stumbling. She held him close as she drank. The warmth of him, it almost saddened her to take it away.
Then, she could taste it. That music of his. Other things, too. There was sickness, eating him up. He was dying, had been for a while before she had ever set eyes on him, and they both knew it. A sadness, a blind hedonism, a sense of destruction. Loyalty and devotion, and a love he had never shown. A weariness of life and yet, an unbending wish to live, which seemed to matter most.
What a vampire he would make!
And just as his heart was about to stop, she let him go. His eyes were wide with terror, unfocused.
With her fingernail, she opened her skin, just above her heart. Blood poured out, ruby red. His mouth was on her and he drank. His eyes were wet.
When he had enough, he rolled back his head and his features relaxed into a smile. His irises flashed red. “My darling”, he whispered. “My darling.”
With her fingers, she traced his bloodied mouth. Slowly, he came to. “What happened?” he asked, but she said, hush. She held him, drawing lazy patterns on his skin until his eyes began to close.
As she got up, he reached for her. “Don’t go.”
She did not like to slip out of his grasp, to leave him. The heart in his chest would stop beating. He would be in pain, and he would die. There was no way back now. She thought about telling him but decided against it. Instead, she gave him a smile.
“I will be back soon”, she promised, her fingertips hovering lightly over his face. “Rest now, and I will come find you.”
His eyes closed, and within moments, sleep had claimed him.
The Baron would ask her why she had chosen this man, of all people. You may be wondering the same. All she would be able to answer was that her blood was singing with his voice.
She knew, she had chosen well.