Our heroine fights to keep her humanity in the face of a ruthless embrace.
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I stayed at the hospital under the care of the Monks, there was no question of going home. I desired nothing but to prove my worth to Eleanor, my saviour and my destroyer.
Through Advent and Christmas tide, Brother Cosmas taught me my letters, and I couldn't get enough. I demanded to learn every alphabet he knew. Everything I read kindled the flame of my neglected intellect. I devoured books, without direction, without discipline, learned words in half a dozen different languages for happiness for fear, so many expressions for love. It took me longer to write something he could read.
Poor Brother Cosmas was bemused by my enthusiasm. I burned with passion, a childish desire to prove Her wrong about me. I needed no threats to life and limb to keep me compliant. I would prove myself worthy of Eleanor's affection beyond all doubt.
'Affection?' my rational mind demanded, 'What???'
But a bond of blood is entirely divorced from reason.
Eleanor soon shattered my illusions. On the eve of the epiphany she led me into the forbidden cloisters, and we passed by the monks unnoticed as a breath of air. I followed her through heavy doors, down countless steps, winding and narrow, until we came to a bare stone cellar that made the hair on the back of my neck stand up.
Half the space was in full shadow. By the light of crude pitch torches I saw iron bars set from floor to ceiling. Two women were already caged in there.
I took in their very different appearances in the shadowed prison, and the confusion that must have been fixed on my face too.
"I thought the old slapper was dead," the bigger woman cackled.
I knew her voice at once. Eva Becker. The only woman in living memory unlucky enough to bury four husbands in four years. She'd been "disciplined" a dozen times for disrespecting the authorities, even came close to a public flogging. It was all a sham of course. She was another of the Bürgermeister's favourites.
That made me wonder how the smaller woman, Dara Feldman, Enzo's lawful wife, had ended up with her. She turned her face away from me as I stared. Dara was a fragile, mousy woman, who never raised her voice.
My undead mistress unfastened a heavy lock on the cage door and nodded for me to enter. Of course I did. A familiar numbness descended on my heart. Detached as I was, the longing to please her stood out as something imposed on my will, something alien.
The three of us stood and stared as Eleanor calmly refastened the lock.
"How long will you keep us here?" Eva demanded. I could hear fear colouring her bravado. Even wicked Eva must have known how helpless we were in the face of this creature.
The silence stretched out until it was broken by Dara's quiet sob.
Eleanor smiled, cold and perfect, it didn't reach her eyes. "I will ask you a question. Whoever answers correctly will earn the three of you a nice soft bed. What manner of room is this?"
"It's a prison!" Eva smacked her hand against the bars without flinching. "And we've done nothing wrong, you kept us here long enough!"
"Wrong." Eleanor's sweet smile broadened.
"A fucking bed? We won't play your sick game. What's the matter? Can't his lordship get it up anymore?"
The vampire didn't rise to the provocation. "Act the ape all you like, Eva. It is what we expect of you."
I scrutinized the chamber. On Eleanor's side of the bars was a simple chair, and what looked like a good quality chest. On our side there was nothing but us. The floor sloped gently down to a broad iron grate at the back of our cell, and it didn't smell like a toilet. The subtle smell that drifted up was sickly, rank as butcher's sweepings. There were scars in the stone work suggesting the room had been reconfigured, the mortar fixing the cage panels and door was fresh.
Above us in the shadows was a broad oak beam dotted with some sturdy ironwork, heavy duty rings and hooks. On the floor below was a broad strip of lighter coloured stone, as though it had once been covered with a stone trough perhaps? Or an altar of some kind? It was cruel to say it, to destroy all hope that playing along might save us.
Dara's efforts to remain stoic were increasingly futile and she whined like a whipped dog.
"Stupid cunt." Eva clipped the smaller woman around the ear and silence followed.
"I missed you, Eva." I faked a smile, and to my relief the mad woman returned it.
"You have any idea what this bitch wants to hear?" she said
"That I really have died and you're the devil?" I smirked.
The smile fixed on Eva's face.
"No," Eleanor cut in, "Disappointing."
I flinched to hear that word. I had to try to humour both the vampire and the monster she'd locked me in with, or everything...
"Dara," I said with measured calm, "is there something you want to say..."
She shook her head and whined. "We are all finished down here."
"Close enough," the vampire said. She opened the wooden chest beside her and pulled out a thin, rolled up mattress that looked like it belonged in a sultan's harem tent. It was red silk, covered in peacocks and other mythical beasts. She fed it through the bars and it slithered into a heap.
I pulled it flat, well away from the stinking grate. I sat on it with my back against the stone wall. There was no damp, though the stones were cold to touch. I traced the beautiful embroidery with my fingers. It was a work of art. It smelled of cedarwood and spices.
"Never mind the bloody mattress, what the fuck is this?" Eva was back banging on the bars. Dara skirted around her and knelt beside me on the wide bed.
"A test, nothing more," Eleanor smirked. With that, she settled herself on the wooden chair, arranged her voluminous skirts and folded her hands demurely on her lap.
Eva's self control was tenuous at the best of times. She kicked the bars with all her might, swung on the sturdy iron swearing and cursing us all.
I was struggling. I needed time to gather my thoughts, but the stream of vitriol from Eva's mouth was beginning to get on my nerves. It was a relief when she finally sank to her knees exhausted.
I shifted to one side, "Here," I said. "Nevermind her games. Sit with us. Rest."
"Are you out of your bloody mind?" She rounded on me and slapped my face before I could duck.
Dara was useless, curling her arms about her head, wailing in fear. I took Eva's back handed blow for what it was. Nothing personal. Just an expression of helplessness. I dragged Dara with me onto the cold flagstones and left Eva the bed for herself.
The madwoman glowered as she lay back on the silk. "Piss on you both. And that bitch. No-one fucking touches me!"
"You're not my type," I said, rubbing the sting out of my cheek.
Dara was looking at me, pleading with me not to aggravate things. I narrowed my eyes in response and scowled. Typical. I wasn't strong enough to fight fair with Eva, and no help would come from Dara. "Is your husband still alive?" I asked.
Dara nodded, her lip quivered as she spoke. "He found out about th...the boys," she sniffed. "I thought he'd kill me."
I raised a questioning eyebrow.
"It doesn't matter now. My sons weren't his. God help them."
I'd misjudged this woman. I'd assumed she was a timid coward, well under Enzo's control. Was she really as stupid and lustful as myself? "That's not the kind of man you cuckold and live!" I laughed.
"Well
you
did," she said softly.
"Oh no. My husband gathered all my children. Get that straight."
