Chapter 9
Elena was bemused as she meandered towards her room. She was suffused with contentment and held the thought of Byron’s impending promise to come to her close to her heart. She had questions for him, of course. She knew that she was in a daze, that her mind wasn’t functioning properly and there was a part of her desperately trying to break through the gauze of her softer emotions and the command Byron had given to her. There was within her both shock at the revelation that he wasn’t quite human, and a realization that she had known this before the event in the stables.
There had always been something too different about him that intrigued her, and as she looked back on the last month, there were a hundred ways she should have known. His proclivity for the night, unexplained absences, his sometimes-erratic behavior, all finally added up in the recesses of her mind.
She was torn between the feminine desire to languish in the feelings that were running rampant through her body and the intellectual need to know and analyze that was clouded by those emotions. She turned her analysis within and had more success focusing her mind.
Her whole life she had been striving just to survive and the world seemed made to thwart her happiness. Her father had abandoned her even before she was born. Her mother soon after when as a child she had already begun to show her propensity for illness. The only kindness it had shown her was ending up in the care of the Monsignor, but even in that relatively blessed orphanage there were tragedies she could list off by wrote. Friends who ended up on the street, the lucky few to be taken in by a foster home sometimes had even had bad ends.
She had fought though, refusing to be brought down by it. Hoping that there were in the world mysteries that she couldn’t comprehend that would validate her suffering. In a way the discovery that Byron was something other than human was oddly comforting. If something like Byron existed, maybe there was some kind of magic in the world to believe in.
Her world had shifted. Part of her mind worried at what the future would hold. She wanted to trust that her feelings for Byron would be requited, but she knew this might be naïve. Her heart was desperately trying to drown out that little pragmatic voice that questioned Byron’s intentions, with the song it sang to her lightened soul. She shook herself mentally coming down a little finally from that plateau as reality re-engaged.
Finally in her room she couldn’t help but look in the mirror and fixed her hair. Laughing ironically at the look in her eyes. Now she could understand why people had done so many stupid things for love over the millennia.
There was a polite knock. Her heart sped as she turned.
Byron had stopped in his rooms to change and was now in a proper set of clothes, clean and neat. He looked at her, but not into her eyes, glancing guiltily away. It bothered her, and the accumulation of bothersomeness now had her feeling peevish. Did the intimate moment they’d shared mean so little to him that he didn’t run straight to her? He took time to change? And even worse, why was Edward here? Whatever remained of the haze burned away in the fervor of darker feelings.
The doctor had followed Byron into the room and approached her quickly. He checked her pulse and her temperature with his practice hands, and then strangely ran his hand down her neck.
She jumped and he made a quieting noise like you would to a horse or a child. She was about to open her mouth and start complaining when she caught a look between Byron and the doctor.
“Wrist.” Byron whispered hoarsely, turning away from them again.
“That’s not necessary.” Elena argued, pulling away from Edward and turning on Byron. “Why did you bring him here?”
“Perhaps, Elena, because he was afraid to face you alone,” Edward offered. “Can I check the bite please?”
“Afraid of me? That’s pretty silly,” she answered, acquiescing, “I’m not the one that bites!”
Edward chuckled, and Elena smiled at him but Byron turned and gave them an angry glare.
“Angry is better than guilty, Byron.” Elena told him with a smile, staring into his eyes. The comment made him look away and she sighed.
“She’s fine Byron,” The doctor decided, turning to leave, as he reached the door he added, “just drink plenty of fluids Elena and don’t let him bite you for a few days.”
Edward smiled at his own joke and was hit by another heavy glare from Byron. He gave Elena a little wave before he closed the door behind him.
They stood in silence both watching the door, Elena’s humor fading. She was struck at how real this moment was to her compared to the interlude they had shared in the stables. That had a dream-like quality in her mind. It was a moment that already felt like a distant memory, and here she was with the same man, just a few minutes later, and that sublime set of feelings she had were gone. She was just worried now, and hurt, and angry.
He turned to her finally, his eyes downcast at his feet as he almost idly wandered closer. When he was close he looked up and into her eyes.
What she saw was regret.
“Elena.” He finally spoke, and there was something about the sound of her name on his tongue that made her shiver.
“Are you cold?”
She shook her head.
He didn’t know where to start.
“I’m sorry I took advantage of you like that. It isn’t right, I’m sorry.”
“Sorry? Took advantage?” Her voice rose as the anger blasted through her. “Did you see me struggling to get away from you? Did I say ‘No Byron let me go?’ Did I scream? Kick? Yell?”
“No.” He whispered.
“Well I’m yelling now! What the hell are you Byron, and don’t you dare stand here and act like you’ve raped me or something because I’ve seen girls who’ve been hurt and I swore I’d never be one of them! If you’d done something I didn’t like you’d know about it and don’t you ever, ever treat me like a victim!”
He blinked at her.
“I won’t make that mistake again Elena, would you please calm down?”
He was keeping his voice low and even as he could. Byron had just realized that he had been making a mistake and it was assuming that he knew Elena enough to understand how she would feel about everything that was happening. He was at a loss except that she was breathing hard and was terribly upset and it hurt him to see her that way. He wanted to reach out and comfort her, but she backed away, and that hurt in it’s own special way.
“I’m sorry Byron,” she said quietly, moving to sit on the neatly made corner of her big bed. “I didn’t mean to yell at you. I don’t want to be mad at you. My feelings are… complicated. Why don’t we start with you telling me about how you became what you are.”
He sighed again and resumed pacing, the heels of his shoes drumming a rhythmic beat upon the hard wood floors.
“How I got to be what I am?” He paused and gave her a little smile. “Why because of a woman of course. A really beautiful woman.”
The pacing began again. He had a pattern, she noticed, and she had to make herself not yell at him to sit down. Eventually he started again.
“I don’t have the energy to re-live it; to give all you the details of it. But suffice to say that I was in love, and she fed off of me. She was less careful than she ought to have been, didn’t really care about the people she fed from - never from an animal - always people. Someone died of her attentions and was missed.
“People back then were more superstitious. More willing to believe in the darkness that abides under cover of night. They suspected she was a nightwalker and tried to kill her. She got away and came to me - invited me to join her.”
“What year was ‘back then.’” Elena questioned him.
He stopped with his back to her.
“I was born in seventeen fifty seven. Before this country was even born.”
“You’re almost 175 years old?”
“Has it really been that long?” He asked sincerely, and shook his head. “It seems like yesterday I was with her. When she asked me to join her, I thought she meant as her lover. To run away with her, and I willingly went. But that night she drank from me more than she ever had… it went on and on and I was weaker and weaker. Then she gave me her blood.”
“So that’s how you make a vampire? You exchange blood?” She questioned.
“I could drink from you for years and nothing would happen to you. I could even give you blood. It would connect you to me - make you my minion - but still you would not become vampire. Only if you were near death, or I drained you to the point of death and gave you my blood, might you become vampire.”
She let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding.
“Were you afraid?” He asked quietly.
“Not really.” She answered with a shrug, “I trust you Byron.”
They stared into each other’s eyes.
Faster than she could follow he was in front of her on his knees.
“You shouldn’t trust me, Elena.” He nearly begged. “I am selfish like my maker and I want to take what doesn’t belong to me. I would have you be mine to love and hold jealously to myself, but that isn’t fair.”
“You aren’t anything like her Byron, you drink mostly from animals, if I’m not mistaken. You aren’t selfish or you wouldn’t care what I want and what is best for anyone other than yourself.”
He shook his head. He didn’t believe her. She didn’t know what went on in his soul. The temptation to have whatever he desired and his curse could give him was strong.
“You should live. Go to university and learn everything you could possibly want to know. Not languishing here with me.”
“See? You prove my point Byron! But what if I don’t want to leave you? What if what I really need is here?”
He looked up and she took his hands in her lap.
“What if I want to explore what’s right here in front of me? Can’t you understand why I might find that attractive? Besides I can learn from you. You have more experience than ten teachers because you’ve lived so long.”
He stared into her eyes with something like hope, but finally shook his head.
“You are too young to know what you want.”
Anger flared within her and he watched the color spread across her cheeks.
“I’ll make a deal with you.”
“What is it?” Elena answered suspiciously.
“You go to school like we planned and you can come back here. For holidays, for summer, this will be your home. And when you’ve done that, been exposed to the real world and you’ve gotten every advantage you should have had. If you still want to be with me, I will have you.”
“Kind of you to wait for me.” She whispered.
“Elena.”
She shook her head. She was angry with him for clearly not loving her enough. For not wanting her enough, but maybe, she thought if she was educated and refined, he would love her enough to let her stay. It bothered her a little that she felt desperate to do anything to be a part of his life. That wasn’t her - the girl who had more self respect than to grovel for anyone’s attentions - and yet she couldn’t help it.
She sighed again.
“Give me your thoughts before I must resort to rudeness and read them myself.” He demanded, but then he smiled.
“You can read my thoughts?” She questioned, horrified. Immediately all the most wonderful fantasies of him she had entertained filled her brain. Most especially how that white skin of his would look against the white linens of her bed.
“You wouldn’t be able to find me, I’d get lost. They don’t call me pale as a sheet for nothing.” He laughed.
Waves of embarrassment rolled over her.
“Oh my God I am never going to think another thought in your presence!” She hid her face in her hands.
He laughed harder.
“I am so flattered you have no idea.” He said gently, taking her hands in his and kissing them gently.
She sighed again.
“I don’t want you to be flattered, I want you to love me.”
“I do.” He whispered hoarsely, but could tell that she didn’t believe him.
Byron leaned into her and brushed her lips lightly with his own. Unable to stop himself, he let down part of his guard and was assailed by the sense of her presence. The smell of her, a heady combination of soap, skin and the blood smell running through her veins, was intoxicating. Her body was a fire that burned him where they touched. His hands, his lips, his knees… what would it be like to sink himself into her? He trembled and found himself standing over her, pressing her down onto the bed.
She pulled at him. Once again under the spell of his touch. Her breath came fast and her body tightened in need. She just needed a little more. To be touched by him a little more… except that the more he touched the more she needed and she wondered if she would ever get enough.
He slipped between her knees and settled his weight on her.
She gasped at the evidence of his desire against her thigh and it made her struggle beneath him. Which made him growl.
Mine, the voice inside his head said. Mine. He took her mouth again and this time it was not gentle. He forced her lips open for him and invaded her with his tongue.
The beast wanted her, and since he wanted her too, he felt powerless to deny its wishes. She was soft yet demanding beneath him. Her hands undid the buttons at his neck. Her mouth matched his demands and gave back in that elemental dance.
He had to stop, but he found himself pulling up on the material of her dress, rocking against her and forcing it up between them. The beast wanted to rip it, to howl with frustration when he held that desire in check.
Byron pulled away for a second and Elena cried out with disappointment at the separation. When he jerked her dress up out of his way, she felt a thrill of something like fear. Nervous excitement rushed though her at the thought that this was really happening and that he was about too make her his.
Her heart was beating fast and she wondered briefly if she would pass out from excitement when he lifted her further back onto the bed and laid himself back on top of her.
“Byron!” she cried out.
And he groaned in response, unable to speak. His teeth were out and he was strangely conscious enough to not want to scare her but not in control enough to stop what he was going to do to her.
Then someone grabbed the back of his shirt and pulled him off her.
There had always been something too different about him that intrigued her, and as she looked back on the last month, there were a hundred ways she should have known. His proclivity for the night, unexplained absences, his sometimes-erratic behavior, all finally added up in the recesses of her mind.
She was torn between the feminine desire to languish in the feelings that were running rampant through her body and the intellectual need to know and analyze that was clouded by those emotions. She turned her analysis within and had more success focusing her mind.
Her whole life she had been striving just to survive and the world seemed made to thwart her happiness. Her father had abandoned her even before she was born. Her mother soon after when as a child she had already begun to show her propensity for illness. The only kindness it had shown her was ending up in the care of the Monsignor, but even in that relatively blessed orphanage there were tragedies she could list off by wrote. Friends who ended up on the street, the lucky few to be taken in by a foster home sometimes had even had bad ends.
She had fought though, refusing to be brought down by it. Hoping that there were in the world mysteries that she couldn’t comprehend that would validate her suffering. In a way the discovery that Byron was something other than human was oddly comforting. If something like Byron existed, maybe there was some kind of magic in the world to believe in.
Her world had shifted. Part of her mind worried at what the future would hold. She wanted to trust that her feelings for Byron would be requited, but she knew this might be naïve. Her heart was desperately trying to drown out that little pragmatic voice that questioned Byron’s intentions, with the song it sang to her lightened soul. She shook herself mentally coming down a little finally from that plateau as reality re-engaged.
Finally in her room she couldn’t help but look in the mirror and fixed her hair. Laughing ironically at the look in her eyes. Now she could understand why people had done so many stupid things for love over the millennia.
There was a polite knock. Her heart sped as she turned.
Byron had stopped in his rooms to change and was now in a proper set of clothes, clean and neat. He looked at her, but not into her eyes, glancing guiltily away. It bothered her, and the accumulation of bothersomeness now had her feeling peevish. Did the intimate moment they’d shared mean so little to him that he didn’t run straight to her? He took time to change? And even worse, why was Edward here? Whatever remained of the haze burned away in the fervor of darker feelings.
The doctor had followed Byron into the room and approached her quickly. He checked her pulse and her temperature with his practice hands, and then strangely ran his hand down her neck.
She jumped and he made a quieting noise like you would to a horse or a child. She was about to open her mouth and start complaining when she caught a look between Byron and the doctor.
“Wrist.” Byron whispered hoarsely, turning away from them again.
“That’s not necessary.” Elena argued, pulling away from Edward and turning on Byron. “Why did you bring him here?”
“Perhaps, Elena, because he was afraid to face you alone,” Edward offered. “Can I check the bite please?”
“Afraid of me? That’s pretty silly,” she answered, acquiescing, “I’m not the one that bites!”
Edward chuckled, and Elena smiled at him but Byron turned and gave them an angry glare.
“Angry is better than guilty, Byron.” Elena told him with a smile, staring into his eyes. The comment made him look away and she sighed.
“She’s fine Byron,” The doctor decided, turning to leave, as he reached the door he added, “just drink plenty of fluids Elena and don’t let him bite you for a few days.”
Edward smiled at his own joke and was hit by another heavy glare from Byron. He gave Elena a little wave before he closed the door behind him.
They stood in silence both watching the door, Elena’s humor fading. She was struck at how real this moment was to her compared to the interlude they had shared in the stables. That had a dream-like quality in her mind. It was a moment that already felt like a distant memory, and here she was with the same man, just a few minutes later, and that sublime set of feelings she had were gone. She was just worried now, and hurt, and angry.
He turned to her finally, his eyes downcast at his feet as he almost idly wandered closer. When he was close he looked up and into her eyes.
What she saw was regret.
“Elena.” He finally spoke, and there was something about the sound of her name on his tongue that made her shiver.
“Are you cold?”
She shook her head.
He didn’t know where to start.
“I’m sorry I took advantage of you like that. It isn’t right, I’m sorry.”
“Sorry? Took advantage?” Her voice rose as the anger blasted through her. “Did you see me struggling to get away from you? Did I say ‘No Byron let me go?’ Did I scream? Kick? Yell?”
“No.” He whispered.
“Well I’m yelling now! What the hell are you Byron, and don’t you dare stand here and act like you’ve raped me or something because I’ve seen girls who’ve been hurt and I swore I’d never be one of them! If you’d done something I didn’t like you’d know about it and don’t you ever, ever treat me like a victim!”
He blinked at her.
“I won’t make that mistake again Elena, would you please calm down?”
He was keeping his voice low and even as he could. Byron had just realized that he had been making a mistake and it was assuming that he knew Elena enough to understand how she would feel about everything that was happening. He was at a loss except that she was breathing hard and was terribly upset and it hurt him to see her that way. He wanted to reach out and comfort her, but she backed away, and that hurt in it’s own special way.
“I’m sorry Byron,” she said quietly, moving to sit on the neatly made corner of her big bed. “I didn’t mean to yell at you. I don’t want to be mad at you. My feelings are… complicated. Why don’t we start with you telling me about how you became what you are.”
He sighed again and resumed pacing, the heels of his shoes drumming a rhythmic beat upon the hard wood floors.
“How I got to be what I am?” He paused and gave her a little smile. “Why because of a woman of course. A really beautiful woman.”
The pacing began again. He had a pattern, she noticed, and she had to make herself not yell at him to sit down. Eventually he started again.
“I don’t have the energy to re-live it; to give all you the details of it. But suffice to say that I was in love, and she fed off of me. She was less careful than she ought to have been, didn’t really care about the people she fed from - never from an animal - always people. Someone died of her attentions and was missed.
“People back then were more superstitious. More willing to believe in the darkness that abides under cover of night. They suspected she was a nightwalker and tried to kill her. She got away and came to me - invited me to join her.”
“What year was ‘back then.’” Elena questioned him.
He stopped with his back to her.
“I was born in seventeen fifty seven. Before this country was even born.”
“You’re almost 175 years old?”
“Has it really been that long?” He asked sincerely, and shook his head. “It seems like yesterday I was with her. When she asked me to join her, I thought she meant as her lover. To run away with her, and I willingly went. But that night she drank from me more than she ever had… it went on and on and I was weaker and weaker. Then she gave me her blood.”
“So that’s how you make a vampire? You exchange blood?” She questioned.
“I could drink from you for years and nothing would happen to you. I could even give you blood. It would connect you to me - make you my minion - but still you would not become vampire. Only if you were near death, or I drained you to the point of death and gave you my blood, might you become vampire.”
She let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding.
“Were you afraid?” He asked quietly.
“Not really.” She answered with a shrug, “I trust you Byron.”
They stared into each other’s eyes.
Faster than she could follow he was in front of her on his knees.
“You shouldn’t trust me, Elena.” He nearly begged. “I am selfish like my maker and I want to take what doesn’t belong to me. I would have you be mine to love and hold jealously to myself, but that isn’t fair.”
“You aren’t anything like her Byron, you drink mostly from animals, if I’m not mistaken. You aren’t selfish or you wouldn’t care what I want and what is best for anyone other than yourself.”
He shook his head. He didn’t believe her. She didn’t know what went on in his soul. The temptation to have whatever he desired and his curse could give him was strong.
“You should live. Go to university and learn everything you could possibly want to know. Not languishing here with me.”
“See? You prove my point Byron! But what if I don’t want to leave you? What if what I really need is here?”
He looked up and she took his hands in her lap.
“What if I want to explore what’s right here in front of me? Can’t you understand why I might find that attractive? Besides I can learn from you. You have more experience than ten teachers because you’ve lived so long.”
He stared into her eyes with something like hope, but finally shook his head.
“You are too young to know what you want.”
Anger flared within her and he watched the color spread across her cheeks.
“I’ll make a deal with you.”
“What is it?” Elena answered suspiciously.
“You go to school like we planned and you can come back here. For holidays, for summer, this will be your home. And when you’ve done that, been exposed to the real world and you’ve gotten every advantage you should have had. If you still want to be with me, I will have you.”
“Kind of you to wait for me.” She whispered.
“Elena.”
She shook her head. She was angry with him for clearly not loving her enough. For not wanting her enough, but maybe, she thought if she was educated and refined, he would love her enough to let her stay. It bothered her a little that she felt desperate to do anything to be a part of his life. That wasn’t her - the girl who had more self respect than to grovel for anyone’s attentions - and yet she couldn’t help it.
She sighed again.
“Give me your thoughts before I must resort to rudeness and read them myself.” He demanded, but then he smiled.
“You can read my thoughts?” She questioned, horrified. Immediately all the most wonderful fantasies of him she had entertained filled her brain. Most especially how that white skin of his would look against the white linens of her bed.
“You wouldn’t be able to find me, I’d get lost. They don’t call me pale as a sheet for nothing.” He laughed.
Waves of embarrassment rolled over her.
“Oh my God I am never going to think another thought in your presence!” She hid her face in her hands.
He laughed harder.
“I am so flattered you have no idea.” He said gently, taking her hands in his and kissing them gently.
She sighed again.
“I don’t want you to be flattered, I want you to love me.”
“I do.” He whispered hoarsely, but could tell that she didn’t believe him.
Byron leaned into her and brushed her lips lightly with his own. Unable to stop himself, he let down part of his guard and was assailed by the sense of her presence. The smell of her, a heady combination of soap, skin and the blood smell running through her veins, was intoxicating. Her body was a fire that burned him where they touched. His hands, his lips, his knees… what would it be like to sink himself into her? He trembled and found himself standing over her, pressing her down onto the bed.
She pulled at him. Once again under the spell of his touch. Her breath came fast and her body tightened in need. She just needed a little more. To be touched by him a little more… except that the more he touched the more she needed and she wondered if she would ever get enough.
He slipped between her knees and settled his weight on her.
She gasped at the evidence of his desire against her thigh and it made her struggle beneath him. Which made him growl.
Mine, the voice inside his head said. Mine. He took her mouth again and this time it was not gentle. He forced her lips open for him and invaded her with his tongue.
The beast wanted her, and since he wanted her too, he felt powerless to deny its wishes. She was soft yet demanding beneath him. Her hands undid the buttons at his neck. Her mouth matched his demands and gave back in that elemental dance.
He had to stop, but he found himself pulling up on the material of her dress, rocking against her and forcing it up between them. The beast wanted to rip it, to howl with frustration when he held that desire in check.
Byron pulled away for a second and Elena cried out with disappointment at the separation. When he jerked her dress up out of his way, she felt a thrill of something like fear. Nervous excitement rushed though her at the thought that this was really happening and that he was about too make her his.
Her heart was beating fast and she wondered briefly if she would pass out from excitement when he lifted her further back onto the bed and laid himself back on top of her.
“Byron!” she cried out.
And he groaned in response, unable to speak. His teeth were out and he was strangely conscious enough to not want to scare her but not in control enough to stop what he was going to do to her.
Then someone grabbed the back of his shirt and pulled him off her.