Black Waltz
Dance me into the night
Underneath the full moon shining so bright
Let the dark waltz begin
Oh let me wheel - let me spin
Let it take me again
Turning me into the light
-"Dark Waltz" by Hayley Westenra
Chapter 1
"Wake up, Ms. Carmen. Your mother and Master Alexander shall be arriving at any moment now." Said one of the human maids, tugging my blanket away from my body. Slowly, I got up out of bed, dressed myself, and tamed my wild black mane. As I was slipping on my shoes, I heard a car pull into the white stoned driveway. My belly fluttering with excitement, I flew down the stairs, past the scurrying servants, and out into the awaiting arms of my mother, the beautiful Bianca Dare.
"Oh my dear, Carmen. It's so good to see you." Mother cried, holding me tightly, her motherly love enveloped me. It made me feel warm and comforted.
Over mother's shoulder, I watched as her new husband, my step-father, Alexander Fane stepped out of the sleek black automobile. He was a very tall, handsome, middle aged man, roughly 754 years of age, thirty years older than mother. Although, him being a strigoi, it was hard to see the effects of his age on his appearance. He was still very beautiful. His blond hair was slicked back from his forehead. His finely groomed eyebrows arched in a permanently quizzical expression over bright, glowing blue eyes. However, I could never understand what my mother saw in him. His appearance did not make up for his greedy, power hungry personality, he was a politician after all, a member of the royal council. There was also another reason I didn't care for him, he had an un-step-fatherly interest in me. I wanted to tell mother about it, but she seemed so happy with him, I didn't want to ruin it for her. And so, I tolerated him for the sake of my mother's happiness.
"Welcome back, mother…step-father." I greeted, curtsying to Alexander. He bowed, took my hand and kissed my knuckles. He let his lips linger on my skin a little too long in my opinion.
"Hello, Carmen. You look amazing this evening. You are every inch as beautiful as your mother." He complimented me, his lips stretching into a charming smile, his sharp canines glistening in the full moon's light.
Tipping my head slightly, with a feminine smile, I thanked him for his sweet words, but on the inside I was grimacing. I didn't like the way he looked at me.
Later that night, as the full moon waned, giving rise to the sun, I retired early to my bedroom. As I lay in my bed, trying to call the sandman to my bedside, I was stirred fully awake by harsh voices. Silently, I slipped out of bed and tiptoed down the winding passageways of our mansion, until I found the source of the shouting, my mother's bedroom. Through a crack in the door, I peeked inside.
Mother, now dressed in her night gown, her raven hair tumbling down her back, sat at the edge of her bed. Alexander paced back and fourth before the fire place, his slender form outlined with the light from the writhing flames.
"Are you completely blind, woman!" He shouted. "That girl. She can fetch a high price, with beauty such as hers."
"What are you rambling about?" Mother inquired, her brow arching slightly.
Alexander's eyes glassed over with a greedy expression. "If she were to attract the attention of, let's say one of King Dragos' sons, we'd be set for life. Think about it. It'll be as if that whole mess with your previous husband never happened. You'd be able to show your face in society again."
Mother's head drooped. Her hands clenched in her lap. "I see. I suppose you are right and I do miss being able to attend the soirees, but how do you know that one of Princes will notice her?"
Alexander grinned wolfishly. "Oh, I will make sure of it. The councilmen are always throwing their daughters at those three. I will simply introduce her to them and let that lovely face of hers do the rest."
Mother was silent a moment, then, to my astonishment, she smiled brightly at him. "Carmen's never been to a soiree. I think it'll be good for her. I'm sure she will enjoy it." She laughed. She gracefully rose to her feet and embraced my step-father, coaxing him to feed. He brushed her long tresses to the side and sank his fangs into her slender neck. Mother sighed in pleasure, and I, disgusted, quickly turned away and ran back to my room.
I got back into bed and glared up at the painting that hung on the wall opposite my bed. It was a portrait of a hauntingly beautiful man with very dark eyes, the color of dried blood. The eyes of ancient royalty. His wild black hair framed his pleasant face, and his lips were stretched into his trademark melancholy expression. "This is all your fault, Father." I hissed at the painting. When these words left me, I became all too aware of his gaze and quickly pulled the covers over my head to hide me from his penetrating stare.