Read Online A Dance in Blood Velvet by Freda Warrington - Free Book Online
Authors: Freda Warrington
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you.”
“Perhaps. But I couldn’t help wondering... was almost envious, in a way. What an awful thing to admit.”
Charlotte said softly, “Dearest... I had no idea.” She rested a hand on Anne’s neck and stroked her throat. Anne shivered, but her eyes were fearless, captivated.
“I’ll never forget you, Charli. I’ll never stop wondering what I missed.”
Charlotte shook her head, helpless. Then she drew Anne towards her and they embraced. How she’d longed for this. Forgiveness, acceptance. How it had hurt, losing her dearest friend in such rancour. “If you really want to know, I won’t deny you.”
She bit into Anne’s neck and swallowed. The blood tasted like champagne. Anne did not pull away, only made a faint noise in her throat. Charlotte stopped, and they held each other hard; friends, blood-sisters. This was a bond between them forever.
“But don’t have bad dreams, dearest,” Charlotte whispered. “It’s also a gesture of love.”
Anne smiled. With an arm around Charlotte’s waist, she turned and said, “Look.”
There on the dew-grey lawn danced a spirit in white satin and net; Violette Lenoir, the ghost of Giselle.
The scene vanished, like a bubble.
A vision beyond a daydream. Almost real - but false. They were not Anne’s words, not her sentiments. Charlotte lived with the hard truth: that she would never see Anne again.
* * *
A dart of cold stung Karl to alertness. Something felt wrong. He looked around and saw black shadows undulating over the contours of the Crystal Ring, the hills changing shape like storm clouds on a strong wind. The watchers again?
No, nothing there. The moods of the Ring were changeable. A stream of coldness flowed heavily over him, and he knew it was time to return home. He tightened his arm around Charlotte’s waist, trying to rouse her gently, but she woke with a start.
“Oh, is it time?” she said reluctantly. “I was so far away.”
“We should go back. Are you cold?”
“I wasn’t until I moved... but yes, it’s freezing. And I’m thirsty.”
The ether was a vast flow of ultramarine glass around them. Long strands of cloud traversed the blueness. The two vampires were fantastical sculptures of jet and coal-black lace, tiny against the rolling skyscape.
Below them, against a fleecy cloud, Karl saw a thin greyish shape. He touched Charlotte’s arm. “There’s someone down there, do you see?”
“Yes. But they look...”
She didn’t utter the word “dead”, but Karl had the same feeling. The vampire looked rigid, like a dark cross against the whiteness. As they drew closer, Karl saw no lustre on its skin, no cobweb wings to add grace. It looked starved, scoured, brittle. It was floating helpless in the Ring like driftwood.
Charlotte said anxiously, “Can you tell if it’s someone you know?”
“Not yet.” They were curving swiftly downwards. “Slow down. Be careful.”
“This is what happens if we stay too long, isn’t it?” she said faintly. “We grow too cold to escape, and starve.”
They landed on the cloud, their feet sinking into its substance as it just bore their weight, like honey. Karl bent down to the creature. A stick figure, coated with ash; the face was blurred. Grief thrummed inside him. Charlotte uttered a moan of pity and horror.
“I think she’s female, but I’ve no idea who she is,” he said. “She must have been here a very long time. We’re too late.”
“What shall we do?”
“Leave her.”
Karl touched the creature’s thin arm. Searing cold bit him, so fierce it bonded his hand to the arm and he couldn’t pull free.
“What is it?” Charlotte, alarmed, tried to help him.
“Mein Gott,” he said. “Don’t touch her! She’s deadly cold. I think she’s come down from the Weisskalt.”
Charlotte glanced up, as if seeking a gap in the thunderous clouds far above. But the Weisskalt , the frigid outer skin, was too far above to be visible. Binding her tattered false-wings around
“Perhaps. But I couldn’t help wondering... was almost envious, in a way. What an awful thing to admit.”
Charlotte said softly, “Dearest... I had no idea.” She rested a hand on Anne’s neck and stroked her throat. Anne shivered, but her eyes were fearless, captivated.
“I’ll never forget you, Charli. I’ll never stop wondering what I missed.”
Charlotte shook her head, helpless. Then she drew Anne towards her and they embraced. How she’d longed for this. Forgiveness, acceptance. How it had hurt, losing her dearest friend in such rancour. “If you really want to know, I won’t deny you.”
She bit into Anne’s neck and swallowed. The blood tasted like champagne. Anne did not pull away, only made a faint noise in her throat. Charlotte stopped, and they held each other hard; friends, blood-sisters. This was a bond between them forever.
“But don’t have bad dreams, dearest,” Charlotte whispered. “It’s also a gesture of love.”
Anne smiled. With an arm around Charlotte’s waist, she turned and said, “Look.”
There on the dew-grey lawn danced a spirit in white satin and net; Violette Lenoir, the ghost of Giselle.
The scene vanished, like a bubble.
A vision beyond a daydream. Almost real - but false. They were not Anne’s words, not her sentiments. Charlotte lived with the hard truth: that she would never see Anne again.
* * *
A dart of cold stung Karl to alertness. Something felt wrong. He looked around and saw black shadows undulating over the contours of the Crystal Ring, the hills changing shape like storm clouds on a strong wind. The watchers again?
No, nothing there. The moods of the Ring were changeable. A stream of coldness flowed heavily over him, and he knew it was time to return home. He tightened his arm around Charlotte’s waist, trying to rouse her gently, but she woke with a start.
“Oh, is it time?” she said reluctantly. “I was so far away.”
“We should go back. Are you cold?”
“I wasn’t until I moved... but yes, it’s freezing. And I’m thirsty.”
The ether was a vast flow of ultramarine glass around them. Long strands of cloud traversed the blueness. The two vampires were fantastical sculptures of jet and coal-black lace, tiny against the rolling skyscape.
Below them, against a fleecy cloud, Karl saw a thin greyish shape. He touched Charlotte’s arm. “There’s someone down there, do you see?”
“Yes. But they look...”
She didn’t utter the word “dead”, but Karl had the same feeling. The vampire looked rigid, like a dark cross against the whiteness. As they drew closer, Karl saw no lustre on its skin, no cobweb wings to add grace. It looked starved, scoured, brittle. It was floating helpless in the Ring like driftwood.
Charlotte said anxiously, “Can you tell if it’s someone you know?”
“Not yet.” They were curving swiftly downwards. “Slow down. Be careful.”
“This is what happens if we stay too long, isn’t it?” she said faintly. “We grow too cold to escape, and starve.”
They landed on the cloud, their feet sinking into its substance as it just bore their weight, like honey. Karl bent down to the creature. A stick figure, coated with ash; the face was blurred. Grief thrummed inside him. Charlotte uttered a moan of pity and horror.
“I think she’s female, but I’ve no idea who she is,” he said. “She must have been here a very long time. We’re too late.”
“What shall we do?”
“Leave her.”
Karl touched the creature’s thin arm. Searing cold bit him, so fierce it bonded his hand to the arm and he couldn’t pull free.
“What is it?” Charlotte, alarmed, tried to help him.
“Mein Gott,” he said. “Don’t touch her! She’s deadly cold. I think she’s come down from the Weisskalt.”
Charlotte glanced up, as if seeking a gap in the thunderous clouds far above. But the Weisskalt , the frigid outer skin, was too far above to be visible. Binding her tattered false-wings around
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