The Stirrings of a Cold Heart

Still unaware of the strain his actions had created in the room, Emile finished off the bottle of wine he had been drinking. Seizing another, he uncorked it while the guests began to collect their cloaks, coats and capes. Before retiring for the evening, each one stopped to give their best wishes to Patrice and she in turn thanked each of them for coming. Erik too decided it was best to leave and made his way to the guest of honor. Patrice couldn't help jumping slightly when he approached her.

"Mrs. Claudel. Thank you for a most enjoyable evening and I wish you a long life. I know that this is not exactly proper but I did bring you a gift." He reached into his pocket and took out a small wooden box and handed it to her. Carefully she opened it and found a jewel encrusted signet ring. "It is from your native France and was worn by the head of the de Lancret family. It seems that the last of the family all met sad ends. Aristide de Lancret was never satisfied with what he had. He was always looking for another woman, another title, or more money. Eventually, he reached too far. Despite the fact that he was already married to a fair woman named Mercedes, he set his sights on Louis XV's daughter Princess Victoire. She was at first flattered until she learned the truth. When word reached the king, Aristide was stripped of everything and eventually found dead in the street. Mercedes died in poverty along with her only child, André." The story hit closer to her then anyone but Erik might have suspected. Her hands shook as she closed the box.

"Thank you, Monsieur Ambrose. It is very beautiful," she answered rather uneasily. He gave a slight bow to her, then turned to Aidan and did the same.

"Thank you Miss Cathal for a wonderful evening," he said, then donning his overcoat he left, or so they thought.

Uneasy with Emile's behavior at the party, Erik silently went around to the back of the house then crept up the wall like a spider. He stopped when he reached Aidan's window and watched as she entered the room and began to take the pins from her hair and brush out the locks. Vowing that he would not stay long, he wanted to reassure himself that she was safe. She looked beautiful with her hair down. Why did he care about her so much? Why did she make him care at all? Her bedroom door suddenly opened and seeing Emile, the vampire knew his instincts proved correct. With the last bottle of Portuguese wine still in his hand, the tenor's face was hard and his balance off-kilter as he walked toward her.

"You certainly made a spectacle of yourself tonight," he charged. After taking another drink, he tossed the bottle against her wall in a rage. Aidan gave a startled cry as the red liquid marked the white wall and everything around it.

"I . . . I did nothing. You're drunk and a fool," she snapped back.

"I'm no fool. I saw how you threw yourself at that damn foreigner Mr. Ambrose."

"I danced two dances with him and he was nothing but a perfect gentleman." Aidan was defiant against his accusations.

"Yes, perfectly charming. You put on your favorite white gown that highlights your figure and entices men. You scent your hair with rose scented toilet water from Floris and smile at him coyly from behind your silk fan. He watched you very closely as you made it very clear that he could have all that you offered."

"How dare you!" she responded angered at his accusations.

"I don't know how women are taught to behave in the gutter you were born in, but it will not be permitted here!"

"Get out of my room! I will not stand here and be called a whore by a drunken cur." As these words were said, Emile lashed out, striking her across the face. He then grabbed her and pressed his lips to hers. The stench of wine and the feel of his sweaty hands disgusted her and she pushed him away. Both were so engrossed in their battle that neither noticed the glowing red eyes watching and listening to the scene.

"You will remember your place. You live in my home and everything you have and will have, belongs to me. You belong to me," Emile snapped, then left the room. Angry and hurting, Aidan collapsed on her bed in tears.

Patrice had heard everything and when she saw her son in the hallway she had to step in. Her motives were not necessarily for Aidan's sake, but out of fear of the vampire. She had met him as a young woman in Paris during the lowest point in her life. Before that she had been a rising star at the opera and one night was introduced to Aristide de Lancret, the same wealthy nobleman, Erik had mentioned. She had believed he loved her only to find out he was married. He left her disgraced and with a child. She found Erik feeding on a victim and begged him to kill her. Instead a deal was struck and he gave her a new name and identity in England. He gave her an allowance so she would be taken care of. Now, watching her son's behavior towards Aidan, she feared the vampire's retribution.

"Emile, have a care. Mr. Ambrose is not a man to be taken lightly. You do not know him or what he may be capable of." She begged her son to listen as she followed him toward his bedroom. Refusing her warnings he stood in the doorway and stared at his mother through defiant blood-shot eyes.

"I will not cower before some rude, arrogant, loner who probably is no more than a pauper masquerading as a gentleman." Emile's words were becoming more slurred and his frame of mind more reckless from all the wine. "No one knows him or has even heard of him. What business could have kept him from joining us for supper, I ask you? Certainly not an upstanding one if it is being carried out so late in the day. The only thing he hopes to gain is Aidan's money. Well, she would be better served if she stayed away from him and refused his advances."

"Emile, please . . ." Patrice urged, but the tenor only turned away and slammed the door shut.

The oil lamp on the bedroom fireplace mantle suddenly illuminated the room causing Emile to turn with a start. He took a step toward the light only to hear the lock of his bedroom door click. He turned and grabbed the knob to discover that he was locked in. Instantly he was sober and afraid as a cold breeze blew against his neck. He turned to find his window open and the curtain moving in the soft winter wind. Swiftly he went over and slammed the window shut.

"Looks like we are now shut in together," said a whispered voice. Emile whirled around to see Erik standing before the door.

"How did you get in here?" Emile demanded.

"Shh, keep your voice low. Let us talk as gentlemen without disturbing the ladies."

"I have nothing to say to you," the tenor barked.

"You will never again behave towards Miss Cathal as you did this evening," the vampire instructed. Emile was immediately incensed. He had no intention of taking orders from this man for any reason.

"It is hardly my fault if she cannot handle the dance steps. Perhaps I should spend more money so she can have another dance tutor."

"We both know you tripped her. You wanted to humiliate her and you succeeded." Erik casually walked in a slow circle around Emile like a vulture waiting for the death of its prey. "More importantly, I know of your behavior a few moments ago in her bedroom." At these words Emile's mouth dropped open and his eyes got wide. "If you ever presume to touch her again in any fashion, I promise you that it will be the last breath you take."

"How dare you threaten me? Miss Cathal is my fiancé and soon to be my wife. It is my right to handle her as I see fit and no one will interfere."

"You like to think of yourself as charming and refined, don't you? You look in the mirror and see a great scholar, talent incarnate, and a man everyone is desperate to know. You're not, though. You, my dear Monsieur Claudel, are an arrogant liar the people can see through thirty seconds after meeting you."

"How dare . . .'' Emile started to say, incensed by the vampire's words. "You . . . You have no right to make any such pronouncements about me! It's possible I have information you wouldn't want Aidan to know about you."

"Yes, yes, I know you have tried to find out about me, but the only thing you've learned is nothing. I on the other hand have learned a great deal about you. Miss Cathal will never accept your proposal and even if she relented you won't get what you want. You see, in order to receive her dowry there are two contingencies. The first is that it must be the suitor that is chosen by her and second, he must meet the approval of her benefactor who placed her in your home."

"What makes you think that I couldn't meet the approval of some stuffy old man who is probably senile? I have a way of impressing people," Emile sneered.

"Ahhhh, but he already knows what sort of man you are. He knows everything about you." The tenor's face became pale and a hint of smile played on Erik's lips.

"What could he possibly know about me?" The tenor's bravado was as thin as paper and the vampire tore through it easily.

"How many pretty ballerinas, chorus girls and maids have you seduced with promises of a great career? Three have committed suicide after they learned they were with child. One, by the name of Julia, works in a brothel and suffers from consumption and has become a drunk. Should I go on?" Emile shook his head. "As soon as you were old enough to take over this estate you ran through every drop of money your mother had. You've also managed to run up debts all over town. How many hours do you spend in casinos and gambling halls? You spend money that is not even yours on prostitutes and drink. I imagine that your voice was once quite good like your mother's, but your lifestyle is quickly destroying it. If it wasn't for her monthly pension there is no telling where you and your mother would be. How much further in debt did you put yourself in hopes of impressing me at tonight's party? You can't seem to get it through that thick head of yours that you will never be somebody." Unable to take his own sins being thrown in his face, Emile slumped down on the bed, defeated.

"And what is it you hope for, sir?" he asked, certain that his rival's goals couldn't be any different from his own. "Are you going to marry the girl and claim her fortune for yourself?"

"My world is no place for Miss Cathal," he answered a little mournfully. "Now mark what I say, you will never interfere with her courtships in any way. If you do, this house of cards you call your life will fall in around your ears as every debt is called in leaving you mired in scandal as you beg for tuppence on the street. If you lay a hand on her or she is harmed by you in any way, then your life is forfeit."

"Y-you can't k-kill me," the tenor stammered. Erik grabbed him by his shirt and waist coat then lifted him off his feet.

"I can and will." The vampire's eyes burned like red fire and his fangs were elongated. Emile gave a horrified gasp and was dropped to the floor just as the oil lamp went out plunging the room in darkness. He scrambled to find a match and quickly lit it. His hands shook as he lit the candle next to the bed. Frantically he looked about the room, but Eric was alone. He went to his bedroom door, turned the knob and it opened with ease. How can I possibly sleep tonight, he thought to himself.

Satisfied that his 'little talk' would keep the tenor in his place he went back to Aidan's window to check one last time and make sure that all was well. In the lamp light he could see that she had changed into her nightgown and stood by her bed. The wine and glass shards had been cleaned up as best she could, but the stain was still on the wall and the floor. Erik was watching her pull back the covers when he noticed that the window was unlocked. He knew he should leave, but he didn't want to. Something about her presence brought a new found light to his eternal darkness and he couldn't help feeling that if he left it would go out. On a sudden impulse he opened it slightly then transformed himself into smoke and slipped into the room.

Normally when a vampire became smoke they could pass through places undetected. It was an excellent way to hear conversations and study your enemy without them knowing. Humans were far too intent on their boring little lives to notice a mist hovering against the ceiling above their heads. At least most humans were. Aidan was not like any others and somehow she just seemed to know when his presence was there and immediately turned and looked at the fog just as it finished slipping through the window. Curiosity showed in her eyes rather than fear and he was glad for that. Surely a strange mist entering a room would be enough to terrify anyone, but somehow not her. It would have been easy for the vampire to simply change back to his normal form, but he didn't. This was a situation Erik had never experienced and he wanted to see just what would happen.

There was no breeze, not even a light one moving through the room so its presence and its slow, seemingly deliberate, movements could not be accounted for and made it seem all the more curious. It couldn't be a ghost, she reasoned, because she had always heard that spirits appeared in the image of their former selves, at least that's how they were described in the books she read. Slowly the fog began to encircle the floor around her feet and ankles. Aidan had anticipated that the smoke would have no feeling to the touch, like the vapor of a candle or a fire. The only thing you feel is the heat coming from the flames. This cloud had no heat generating it that she could see so she was surprised to feel an energy flowing from it against her skin. It seemed to have a life force of its own. The mist began to coil around her body as it moved upward, its current radiating through her and making her flesh tingle.

For Erik this was an intriguing situation and one he had never experienced before. In all of his long existence he had never known of any vampire's body becoming physically aroused. Nor was he feeling it now. Sex in the world of the nosferatu was little more than the exchange of blood with a lover which ignited an orgasmic rush that was both as stimulating and as satisfying as intercourse in the human world. 'Le Coeur Noir' had dallied with many lovers in this fashion and quite often it included kissing and the caressing of each other's flesh, but that was the end of it. What he was doing right now was strange and different. He could feel her skin against each and every particle of his being and see the way her eyes dilated in enjoyment and he liked it. It was tantalizing and a kind of intimacy he had never imagined. Emboldened to go further, he only wished he knew what she was thinking and feeling.

As for Aidan, she couldn't quite shake the feeling that what was happening was grossly improper but how could it be, it was only mist? As the vapor enveloped her, she was surprised to find that although she could feel it, she was unable to breath it in. Never had she encountered smoke like this before. She could see no hands, no body or flesh yet the ribbon that tied at the top of her night dress was pulled open by an unseen force. She could feel it moving beneath her muslin gown, caressing her breasts and grazing her nipples making them hard. She flushed and sucked in air as she felt the fog extend itself down her stomach and unfasten the drawers she was wearing beneath her gown, then slowly undulate between her legs. How would she ever explain this when she went to confession, she thought to herself.

Part of Aidan wanted to remain proper and poised, a true lady, but her body longed for more of the sensations the mist was awakening in her. Against everything she had been taught, she laid down on her bed, her eyes growing wide and dilating as she watched her night dress get pushed up by invisible forces. The cloud's intense energy pressed against her wet seal and in response she opened her legs granting access and inviting in the forbidden pleasures it promised. The vapor flowed into her, filling her with its spark of power causing her to clutch at her pillow and bite her lip to keep from moaning in ecstasy. It pulsated through her body making her writhe and her hips move up and down.

Whatever this smoke was, Aidan could feel it reaching into her very core and her pearl throbbed and tingled as her mind longed for more. Afraid she would cry out and bring attention to the luscious sin she was indulging in, she shoved the top of her night dress into her mouth to stifle her rapturous cries. Her back arched and her eyes rolled back as her body stiffened with her orgasm. All thoughts escaped her except the intense tingling that ran through her spine and intimate valley as she shuddered.She had no idea what she had experienced. Since she had turned thirteen she had known what sex was, but never in her education had she been told what pleasures could abound in it. Even now she wasn't sure if she committed such an act or not, only that she had never felt so excited and didn't want it to end.

Erik watched her, enjoying the sight of her reaching Elysium. He could smell her arousal, hear the way her heart was pounding as well as the quick movement of her blood causing his own hunger to rise. It was all he could do to fight back the urge to take her blood even as her spasms began to lessen. He was so intent on trying to control himself that for a moment his eyes began to materialize in the fog and he realized that Aidan could see them. Worse, she recognized him and started to say his name. Afraid of what she might think after what he had just done to her, he acted quickly. Capturing her gaze with his own he pulled her into a trance.

"I was never here and this never happened. It was only a dream." he whispered. She softly echoed the words, then the vampire, still in his smoke form, escaped back though the window leaving Aidan to believe she had simply awakened from a dream.

Outside, the vampire stood in the darkness, his hunger receding now that he was away from Aidan. He chided himself for allowing things to get out of control and yet he really didn't regret any of it. He had thrilled at the feeling of his very essence surrounding her and moving against her flesh. The look of both surprise and pleasure as he sent a shaft of vapor inside of her like two long extended fingers reaching to her core and experiencing her gratification excited him in a way he hadn't felt in ages. If someone had told him that night when he first met Aidan as a child that he would be the one to take her virginity, he would have called them a liar. Truth be told, he still really hadn't. Smoke, vapor, mist or whatever you choose to call it was malleable and had left her pure, perfect and intact.

Returning to Osrik House, he threw his overcoat into a chair as he went in the drawing room then looked at the fireplace, willing into life with his mind. The room was bathed in a warm glow as he seated himself in a high backed chair and stared into the flames. How did something as simple as a birthday party end up in two such opposite extremes? For a moment he gave a slight laugh, then his grey eyes noticed the drawing of Athanasia on the mantle. She was the last woman he had ever made love to and for a brief moment he almost felt as though he had cheated on her with Aidan. He reminded himself that she was long dead and her words from his dream echoed in his recollection.

"Even in Hell, Hades has Persephone. You need to go find yours."