Page 41 of Fragile Wicked Things
"Yes, a red-haired she-devil. We've been tracking her from a few villages over until our hunting dogs lost her scent on your property. We've come to warn you and ask for permission to scour your home. It will take a moment for our dogs..."
"Gentlemen!" Edward said harshly. "This game of yours has gone on long enough and I'm afraid I've no tolerance left for such ridiculous matters."
"I thought so, too, Lord Rochester, when these men first approached me with such stories. Stuart Cunningham and I accompanied them one evening to entertain ourselves, and what we saw was not folklore. We came upon her one evening, expecting to uncover the truth about this astonishing story. We were ill-prepared, unaware of the possible danger and in our negligence, Stuart lost his life, another victim of hers. Had I not seen it with my own eyes, well, even seeing it remains unbelievable. She tore into him with her bare hands and ripped open his neck with sharp teeth. Next, she turned on us and had Lewis and Charles not been armed with crosses and holy water, we would have become victims ourselves."
"She is wreaking havoc from village to village. I had heard rumors of this sort happening in other parts of Europe, but of course, I suspected it had more to do with ancient folklore that keeps such a strong hold on uneducated peasants. I never imagined..." Lewis trailed off.
"She is alone, this red-haired Vampyre?" Edward asked.
"We have witnessed no other. Do you think it possible there are others like her?"
"Dear God," Charles said.
"Then we must act at once. Destroy her," the tall one said.
"How do you mean to kill her?" said Edward.
"We were approached by a holy order originating from Romania. They are centuries old, call themselves The Men Of Psalms, and they have enlightened us. Mr. Merrill and Mr. Channing have recently joined the order with me. We have in our possession wooden stakes, crosses, holy water and guns. The hunting dogs can pick up the demon's scent again."
"Yes, I'm sure the scent of the demon is strong here, and the dogs will no doubt pick it up. You say you chased her here? She must be afraid then if she's running, hiding out. Yes, go ahead, check my home, check my premises, but if you gentlemen will excuse me, I have a young ward to consider, and it is best we leave the home at once until this creature is destroyed."
"Thank you, Lord Rochester."
The men were almost out the door when Edward stopped them. "Gentlemen, it just occurred to me where you should look first. A small creek runs along the west side of my acreage. If she crossed the water, that may explain why the dogs lost her scent. There is a cave nearby with one entrance. If she did seek shelter, you could trap her in there, light her on fire...for all I care."
The men nodded at this news and set out, yelling at the dogs as they struggled to get inside.
I crawled along the upper floor to avoid being seen, then down a dark corridor, stealth-like. In the dark, I couldn't see the way to my bedroom, but I knew I would come to it as long as I continued in a straight line. Instead, I crashed headfirst against something.
"Catherine," Edward said, looking down at me. "Playtime is over. Go to your room. We're leaving."
How did he get there so quickly if, moments before, he was at the front door?
Later, when we finally piled into the carriage, our belongings tucked away above, Edward and I looked back at the estate. It had been a true home for me, and I wondered what lay ahead. I continued to look back, but Edward grew tired, turned, and stared ahead, quiet and forlorn. He held my hand.
In the distance, we heard the incessant barking of the dogs. The wind carried the men's horrendous screams across to us. Then, the crack of a gunshot. An animal growled, then whimpered. I turned back one last time to see a fire had started near the creek.
The murderess was dead.
* * *
It was stillnight when we arrived at a hotel in London; I nestled into one bedroom of the suite, and Edward took the other. He had been quiet for most of the ride and at the hotel. Still, he helped me ready for bed, tucked me in, and kissed me on the forehead. When he closed the door to my bedroom, darkness settled in, and although I could see nothing, my eyes were wide open, unable to sleep. Edward and Giovanni whispered on the other side of my bedroom door. In the end, exhaustion overcame me, and my mind filled with thoughts of Mathilda; we left in such a hurry that I didn't have an opportunity to say bye to my miserable governess.
The next morning, I was surprised no one woke me and crept out of bed, swinging my favorite doll, Clara, in my hand while I took a peek outside my door. Finding no one about, I skipped to Edward's bedroom, ran in, and jumped into his high bed. He wasn't there either. I called out to him, and when I received no response, I called for Giovanni next. I was alone. Edward's bed felt cold; the bedding had not been disturbed, and I realized he hadn't slept there all night. Curled in his bed, I flung the blanket over me, hiding away from the rest of the world. I turned to thoughts of America, a place I had read about and never imagined I would be visiting. The trip over would be long and arduous, but I knew I would be taken care of; as long as Edward was there, I felt safe.
Giovanni bounded into Edward's room, interrupting my peaceful existence and said to gather my things. We had to leave. When I asked him about Edward, he told me he was already on the boat, preparing our room and sent Giovanni to fetch me. I dressed in a hurry, brushed my hair and teeth, and then gathered a few of my personal things: Clara, a bit of candy I always kept in my pocket, and a picture book.
Later that morning, Giovanni left me alone on the dock as he went about the business of collecting our trunks, shouting orders at the young men who carried our belongings onto the ship, cursing when one man said he "didn't take no orders from no gypsy.” I walked away from them, from their shouting and shoving and stared in awe at the steamship, its smoking chimneys and multitude of tiny windows with countless eyes looking back at me. I had heard the people around me refer to the boat as "she," and there, against the stark white paint, was her name, Clara. A good omen, I thought.
"Caterina. Caterina."
Giovanni scooped me into his arms, but it wasn't the same as when Edward held me; Giovanni was rougher and detached. He carried me aboard the ship, past the throngs of people lined up on the deck, waving to family and friends below on solid ground. He whisked me away down a corridor and into a room, where he dropped me to the floor and waited until our belongings arrived. I looked around the small, empty room.
"Where is Mr. Rochester?" I asked.
Giovanni never answered and told me to be still and lay down and take a nap, and when I told him I wasn't tired, he ignored me and said he had to take care of something. I wasn't allowed to leave the room, he told me, so I had better get some rest. Then he left me alone for hours. I had thought Edward would arrive shortly, but by the time the ship sailed, I became worried. What if he missed the boat? Or worse. What if she got him? I knew that couldn't be true because the men who had arrived the night before had killed the red-haired murderess, and I needn't worry any longer.
Lunchtime was spent in my room with Giovanni. Again, I inquired after Edward and given the same response; he was busy taking care of things, and I would see him later that evening at suppertime. When the supper hour arrived, I found myself alone again and waited long past the appropriate hour for dinner until I heard Giovanni shuffling about outside the door. I sat up in bed, ready to give him an earful about my hunger, but when the door opened, Edward stood there. I ran to him and threw my arms about him, catching him off guard, for I wanted to show him how much I had missed him, hoping he would never leave me again.
