Page 55 of Now Comes the Mist

“What disgusts you is that I am a woman,” I say, frustrated. “You and I are the same at our core, but because I am not a man, I ought to be virginal, helpless, and afraid instead of being courageous enough to make the same choice you did. You can’t stand that, despite all your years and intelligence, you were wrong about me.”

He is not looking at me, but I can feel in my very bones the violent animosity radiating from him. “It is not for a woman to want the unnatural,” he says. “This choice is not for her to pursue immodestly, only accept meekly if bestowed upon her.”

As afraid as I am, I am angrier. “How could you imagine sharing with me everything that you are and expecting me not to want it, too? You, with your talk of seeing the world, of centuries of learning, of castles and pleasures and delights. You, to whom nothing is limited. No prey can outrun you, no object of desire can deny you, and the few rules that bind you are nothing!”

“Nothing?” Vlad gives me a cruel smile. “I thought you were intelligent, Lucy. You think I gave up my soul for a kind of paradise? A blissful existence of immortality?”

“That was what you told me,” I cry. “You said you could not bear the sun or see yourself in a mirror or a painting. These, I can and will give up. You said you could subsist on animal blood, and I could, too, to avoid hurting anyone and—”

Vlad laughs mockingly. “You think not being able to preen in a mirror is the worst part of being a vampire? You simpleton. You utter child. You stand there and tell me to my face that you are my intellectual equal. You puff up with vanity over your romantic conquests and the suitors who would die for you, and yet you have no idea when a man is lying to you.”

“Lying? But you had no reflection in the mirror—”

“Lying by omission, my dear.” He faces me, and when he speaks again, it is with the pleasant, conversational tone he has always used with me. The ease with which he can switch between kindness and hatred is utterly chilling. “I told you that those who interest me most are in the greatest peril. I used that word,peril, and you did not question it. You did not ask why I equate vampirism with being in peril.” His gaze is piercing and direct. “There is a reason that it costs such a high price as one’s soul. Make no mistake: what I am is a curse.”

My temples are pounding with the pain of anger and confusion. “What do you mean? You told me of your limits, of mirrors and sunlight, of sleeping in boxes of earth and not entering homes without invitation, but you made them sound like nothing at all—”

“Haven’t you been listening?” Vlad taps my forehead with a cold, mocking finger and I jerk away from his touch. “I was infatuated with your innocence and beauty, and I wanted to awe and shock you. But there is much more to being a vampire than what I chose to tell you. Haven’t you wondered why I have so many different homes? Why I am forever moving from this land to that? Why I had to take the longest, loneliest route by sea to England? Because most humans fear me, despise me, and want me dead. I am always running away, Lucy, as powerful as I am, because wherever I go, I will be outnumbered.”

I look at him, shivering and silent.

“Most people do not like having a monster among them who might drain them of their blood,” he says sardonically. “I am forever in hiding and in disguise. Could you live like that?”

“I already do.” I close my eyes and turn away. “I thought you were a god, an immortal being who could hold the entire world in the palm of your hand. How disappointing to find that you are like any other man. You want me to be intelligent, but not more so than you. You want me tobe beautiful and tempting, but unaware of it. You were happy to satisfy my curiosity, but now that you have whetted my appetite, you punish me for being hungry.” I hate myself for the tremor of tears in my voice, but perhaps this is what saves me, for his ire melts away at once.

“You were right before,” he says gently. “You are not my first choice. Mina is all that you ought to be: modest, innocent, and unstained by any thought of shadows or darkness. She is quick and curious like you, but her womanly qualities make her more ideal. The perfect woman of the age.” He moves behind me and strokes my hair, and only my rage and hurt keep me from leaning into his touch. “Women like Mina or Diana run from me because they cling to purity and goodness. I am the antithesis of everything they believe in, and to infect such a chaste and virtuous woman is profoundly satisfying. By transforming her, I would make her theoppositeof herself, whereas if I do the same to you, I fear you might becomemoreyourself than ever.”

I take in a deep, shaking, enraged breath.

“I am a predator, and I need prey. I need the thrill of the chase.” Vlad leans his head against the back of mine almost lovingly. “I should not have become angry with you. You are very young, Lucy, and I cannot expect you to understand any of this.”

I fly about in a rage. “Don’t speak to me like I am a little girl. I understand you perfectly. Why, if you find Mina so appealing, did you call tome? I don’t believe a perfect woman is what you really want. What drew you to me as I was drawn to you?” I meet his hard gaze straight on, seeing his shock. No doubt he has never been spoken to like this in five hundred years, and certainly not by a lowly woman. “Iam what you want. Someone who is as hungry as you are. That is why we found each other, and yet you are afraid of me.”

“I? Afraid of you?”

“Yes,” I say, not taking my eyes from his. “You are a paradox, Vlad. You are so very lonely, but you are careful not to create other vampires, and if you do, you destroy them before they can grow too dear to you. You are outnumbered among humans because to be powerful, you must be without equal. But without someone to share your endless life, what is the point of existing? You will go on forever, yearning for companionship and then pushing it away when it is offered to you. For all your supposed intellect, you can’t even see this simple truth.”

More quickly than I can blink, his hand wraps around my neck. His thumb presses hard against my throat and I gasp for air. “You have insultedme quite enough, madam,” Vlad snarls. A glowing bloodred ring, burning with wrath, forms around each of the dark pupils of his eyes. When he bares his teeth, I see two long daggerlike fangs piercing through his pale gums, bringing drops of blood with them. “This is what you want, then? You want me to bite you as I bit that widow? Answer me, damn you!”

He thinks I am too afraid. He thinks his hand on my throat and the sight of his fangs will shock sense into me. Even in his violence, his expression holds mocking amusement at being able to manipulate me so easily. And so, coughing, I touch his face. He pauses, surprised by the tender gesture, and his hand on my throat loosens slightly. We gaze at each other, and a moment later, I feel the prickling pain beneath my scalp once more, prying at the edges of my mind. He is trying to read my thoughts, to unearth what I am feeling in this moment that I am not telling him.

No, I think fiercely. I picture, once more, a shield of pure silver protecting my mind from the onslaught. Silver like Mina’s bracelet, which she gave to me with love; silver like the ring belonging to Van, which she brought with her to a strange new land. I strain with the effort to protect myself, and I feel the prickling stop immediately.

“What is this?” Vlad spits. “How are you doing that?”

“You don’t need to invade my thoughts. I will tell you exactly what I am thinking.” I grit my teeth, staring into the unnatural red-ringed eyes. “I am thinking that I want you to bite me, if only to show that you do not fear me. You would have to bite several times to turn me into a vampire, so where is the harm, Vlad? What is holding you back if not cowardice?”

The impact of his fangs ripping into my skin comes with a burst of frenetic emotions. I can feel everything roiling inside of him: rage, astonishment, and overwhelming desire, all underlined by an unstoppable, insatiable hunger. He crushes me against him in an arctic embrace, his body as cold and brutal as winter. The only points of heat are where his fangs have embedded themselves into my throat. It is the most terrible, undeniable pain I have ever felt. My tender skin and the veins underneath bellow in agony at the invasion, and my lungs struggle to let out a sob, a shout,anythingat all. But I only take in ragged gasps of air as my hands scrabble uselessly on his massive shoulders. In response, Vlad bites me even deeper and harder. Only when my feet kick desperately in the air do I realize he has fully lifted me off the ground.

I lose my vision. I can hear the sea and the wind and the awful gushing of my blood into his mouth, but I can see nothing except darkness. For the first time in my life, I genuinely wish to die. It is no longer a pleasantflirtation but a fervent need to no longer exist. I want to fade into oblivion so that this merciless pain that racks my body will disappear.

Someone is sobbing as though her heart will break.

A moment later, I realize that I am the one crying, lying crumpled on the ground. My vision returns in time for me to see a hot stream of blood pouring from my throat, splattering across my dress and the stones of the terrace. The world spins as I weep, tears scalding my face. The incredible pain is still there, but muted around the edges now that Vlad has stepped away to watch me sob, his bloodstained mouth set in a grim line. I curl up into a ball as a wall of heavy, freezing mist rolls in from the ocean. Vlad kneels beside me, and I press frantically against the railing, covering my wounded throat with my trembling hands.

“Please, Vlad,” I beg. “No more. It hurts so much. Please, please.”

But I am too weak to resist as he moves my hands away from my throat. When I look at him, however, his eyes have returned to their normal state and his face only holds a strange sort of weary pity. “I am only going to clean you,” he says quietly. “May I?” I do not have the strength to nod, but he sees the consent in my eyes and slowly lowers his mouth to my neck once more. I sob, expecting the excruciating impact of his fangs again, but I feel only his lips and his tongue, gently removing the blood from my shoulder and neck. When he has finished, he takes one of my hands and places it over the two raised wounds. When he holds my fingers before my eyes, I see that they are clean of any blood.

---