Page 53 of Now Comes the Mist

“Mine? What a generous man you are, Mr. Holmwood,” Vlad says with a wolfish smile.

I get up and take Arthur’s hand. “I will save every other dance for you, my love,” I say, and he gives a gruff nod and sits down next to Mina. And then I am free to take Vlad’s hand in front of my friend and my fiancé. “Shall we?”

Vlad leads me to the center of the ballroom, where five other couples are dancing. Even so, I know instinctively that everyone is watching the two of us, and that in Vlad’s arms, I must look as fragile and dainty as a flower plucked by his brutal hand. The silver threads in my gown catch the light as we move. He is as divine at the waltz as he is at everything else, which is unsurprising now that I know he has had multiple lifetimes to perfect every skill.

“Your fiancé is a very earnest, forthright young man,” he says. “Full of feeling and nobility and, I believe, very deep love for you.”

“Arthur is the best of men.” My tone is almost defensive, perhaps because of the dry sarcasm I hear in Vlad’s words. “He is honest and true, and I am proud to be his.”

He chuckles. “How loyal of you. Perhaps you are more like Miss Murray than I thought.”

“Even though I am only your second choice?”

Vlad looks down at me, his eyes as affectionate as they are pleased. He likes the touch of jealousy in my voice. “I asked Mina first because I knew she would refuse me. I cannot seek you out too obviously, or else I would make an enemy of your dashing Arthur.” His hand on my waist pulls me a bit closer. “But you are my first choice, Lucy. Always my first.”

“Then why have you not called me to you?” I ask, hating myself for the yearning in my question. I am not often ashamed to want to be with Vlad, but it feels different when Arthur is in the room with us. “I waited all week. I wondered if you had found another beautiful widow.”

He laughs. “I have had business to attend to. Purchasing a property in England comes with a great deal of paperwork. Believe me, I would have much rather spent my nights with you.” He strokes his thumb over my hand. “I have missed you. It surprises even me how much.”

“Then call to me tonight. I need to see you.”

“And what of your Arthur?”

I feel once more the clench of shame in my gut. “We will only talk, you and I,” I say decisively. “It is no betrayal of him to have a simple conversation with you, is it?”

“Only talk?” Vlad repeats, his smile widening. “Wedotalk well together, don’t we, Lucy? But we do other things well together, too.” His thumb slowly strokes my hand again, and the aching, delicious memory of it on my breast makes me swallow hard.

“You are here in the flesh now,” I say, looking straight at him. “It was different when you were on a ship far away and it felt like some sort of fever dream. But now, when I kiss you, I am kissingyou… not whatever form of you I was kissing on the cliffs.”

“Oh, you were kissing me,” he says with knowing, vicious delight. “I can separate my physical self, one half in a state of rest elsewhere, one half wandering through the mist to you. I have always been with you. Every kiss, every touch has been real, and you know that deep down, no matter how you tried to tell yourself that it was just a dream. It is part of my attraction.”

It is only a dream, and no one need know what we do here.

My cheeks burn at the truth in what he says, and the memory of all the excuses I have made to be with him. “I have promised to marry Arthur, and I will be his wife no matter what.”

Vlad shrugs. “What does that matter? I care not for human vows. They hold no sanctity for me. What you want from me transcends something as ineffectual as a promise.”

“And what do you imagine I want from you?” I ask.

“The world,” he says, laughing as he twirls me in the dance.

“And you can give that to me, can you?” I meant to sound tart and flirtatious, retreating into the realm of what I know for comfort. But the question comes out with so much longing that even Vlad’s face grows serious. “I am consumed by what you told me that night. About being a vampire.” I whisper the word, but still, there is something as thrilling and dangerous about speaking it in company as publicly kissing Vlad fully on the lips would be.

“You truly aren’t afraid of me, then?” he asks, shaking his head as though marveling at my naïveté. “I am an undead being who could crack your skull between my fingers like a nut. A monster who drained every last drop of blood from a helpless woman right before your eyes.”

I look at the powerful hand cradling mine and the other curved around my waist, soft and protective. “Iamafraid. But I also sense that you care for me, Vlad.”

There is something in his eyes I cannot quite read, perhaps pity or regret. “Do not make the mistake,” he says softly, “of ever thinking you are safe with me. For those who amuse and interest me the most, and those I regard most highly, are the ones in the greatest peril.”

A sharp stab of jealousy pierces me. “Like Diana Edgerton?”

“She?” He raises a thick black eyebrow. “She was food.”

I press my lips to restrain a shocked laugh as we dance past Mamma and her friends, all avidly watching us. “You told me you have created others like yourself before. How do you decide who is food and who is a companion, and how is it done?”

“Food is lonely widows and unfortunate crew members, easily gone and never missed.”

A new dance begins. Around us, the couples change partners, but Vlad and I do not let go of each other, which would have been proper. I know that Mamma and Mina will reprimand me and that Arthur will be forlorn, but at this moment I need information like I need air. I look back to where Arthur is sitting and try to tell him, with only my eyes and my smile, how much I love him, how sorry I am to break my promise to save the rest of my dances for him, and how I will make amends. He does not look like he believes me, and I cannot blame him.

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