I waited with bated breath in the dark alley.


It was the first time he had touched me, there in his room. He had caught me suddenly, without warning, the first moment of my stay with him that I hadn't feared an attack. He had pulled me against him by my upper arm and held the back of my thigh. I had stumbled against him… and, and I had caught myself by flinging my arms around his bare neck. His skin was stone cold. I hadn't pushed away… or given any restraint other than a gasp of surprise. We had stared at each other, our eyes inches apart, and he had looked as surprised as I was.

Had he expected me to scream? Why hadn't I? I will never forget the way he was looking at me; those cold eyes had never looked so human, so alive to me before. His surprise quickly changed to what must have been fear, a sight so shocking to me I could only continue to stare. What could he possibly be afraid of? He had suddenly looked less terrifying to me, if only by a little. But behind the fear, his eyes still held that hunger they had shone before I had said-… Had it been what I had said? Had my words made him react that way?

We seemed to stay there for several long minutes, though it must have been only seconds, and then his head slowly bent down toward me… I couldn't tell if his parted lips were reaching for my lips or my throat… and then, as suddenly as he had grabbed me, he pushed me away. I nearly fell to the stone floor as I stumbled backward. I will admit, though I must have been mad, that my disappointment had been just as strong as my fear and surprise. We stood there, five feet apart, both somehow weakened by whatever had just happened, and then he said suddenly "Go."

I continued to stare at him, I simply couldn't understand. The madness in me wondered if I had done something wrong.

"LEAVE! RUN!" He shouted at me. The strength of his voice was so overwhelming that his words came to me like a hard slap in the face. I realized later that he had never before raised his voice at me; his words to me had always been chillingly calm. Whatever that calming madness had been left me, and fear regained its hold on every corner of my mind. I turned and ran from the room. I took three steps at a time down the great, grey marble staircase and burst out the huge oak front doors.

It was raining heavily. The night was thick with darkness. The wet grass froze my bare feet as I ran down the sloping lawn toward the forest that hid the castle from the town. I pulled up my hood as I ran. I still wore my cloak over my nightgown; it was nearly as cold inside the castle as out in the rain. When I reached the trees I paused, panting, and looked back up at the castle. I gasped. The great doors were open, light streaming onto the lawn.

I had slammed the doors behind me, I was sure.

Suddenly full of energy, I turned around and sprinted into the forest. Sheltered from the rain under the trees, my eyes were adjusting to the darkness. I could see the dark silhouettes of thick trees, and, after a few minutes of numb running, hardly a thought in my head beyond escape, I could see the distant, yellow light of streetlamps.

I burst out of the edge of the forest and into the downpour, right onto the road that ran along the edge of town. I had run right in front of a moving carriage; horses cried as the driver tried to avoid me.

"Hey! Who's there?" He called after me. I didn't even think of asking him for help. He was only an obstacle.

I kept running to the heart of town, my eyes searching. I couldn't go inside; everything was closed up for the night and sealed tight against the rain. I ran between dark buildings, looking for somewhere to hide, though I knew it wouldn't be any use. I found a narrow alley, completely black in shadow. I stepped into the cover of the darkness, wondering if lack of light even mattered to my pursuer.

The rain let up and I lowered my hood. Now I stood there, waiting. Would he kill me when he found me? I had escaped, I was free… but the town was no sanctuary; I might as well have still been in the castle. I had not escaped, he had set me free, and he would find me if he wanted to.

But did he want to? Why had he let me go? Was he really following me? I hadn't seen him…

A hand, cool as marble, pressed over my mouth.

I did not try to scream; I simply gasped so hard it felt as if the sudden force of air into my body had jump-started my pounding heartbeat. I tried to slow my breathing, hoping it would somehow still my rushing blood; it would only make things worse… But he already seemed to have noticed. Another, rock-hard hand was pressing against my stomach, holding my back to the wall of his body, but the hand pressed over my lips slid down to my throat, his fingers resting against my pulsing veins. With his forefinger and thumb, leaving his remaining fingers on my pulse, he angled my jaw away from his hand, forcing my head to lean back and to the side, resting back on his shoulder and fully exposing my neck. I felt his head bending down over me, his hand now moving aside to cup my jaw, his lips brush against my neck… I closed my eyes tightly and whimpered softly. I was going to die…

He stayed there for several moments, his parted lips lightly touching my skin, pressing me to him at my stomach and holding my head aside. Then I realized he was inhaling, very slowly, through his nose… as if he were smelling something he wanted to savor…

Then I felt his teeth, very softly, graze against my skin as he opened his mouth wide. Two more prominent, pointed canines became evident, pressing gently to my flesh, threatening to puncture my skin…

He exhaled hot, moist breath against my neck, sending a shiver through the rest of my cold body. I supposed there were worse ways to die, than by the teeth of the most handsome man I had ever met, and he was much gentler than I had imagined. I wondered what it would feel like when his fangs tore into my flesh… Would he suck the blood from my veins or would it simply flow to him, draining from my body until I collapsed in his arms…? How long would it take until I slipped from consciousness…?

But his teeth began to close again, still only softly grazing across my skin, until I only felt his lips. Then he whispered to me, so softly I could hardly hear him, his lips brushing my neck.

"Perhaps you should remain with me, after all."

He lifted his head from my neck and released my jaw. I found, however, that I could not raise my head from his shoulder. I felt suddenly dizzy, lightheaded, and very weak. One thought- "I'm alive…" –flickered across my mind before I fainted, and all was dark.


My mind was waking, slowly and with difficulty. My thoughts were cloudy and strained, and my eyes felt too heavy to open.

I had had a horrible nightmare… my father's poor heart had finally failed him… the doctors took the last of our money… I was left alone and friendless… I had been reduced to begging in the streets, until one night a group of drunken men had surrounded me, grabbing at me… I had barely escaped… I had run into the woods until I stumbled upon… upon a castle… I had thought they were still chasing me; I ran inside before I knew what I was doing…

And then the man…

He had been so real… tall and pale, with dark hair and black eyes, so handsome I had been speechless when I met him… but also so cold and serious I was utterly terrified of him… He had stared at me silently… I had finally found the words to plead for shelter for the night, but he had only answered coldly with the single word "leave." It wasn't until I had told him shakily that those men were after me, and that I was afraid to go, that he had consented and led me to a room… as he shut me in he had told me I would never leave…

I had stayed with him for nearly two weeks… the dream had felt so real… so long… he had kept me alive on bread and water, bringing it to me only at night… I had thought he had locked me in because he was mad, soon he would come to me and rape me, or murder me…

I had finally broken through the lock on the forth night, tiptoeing away thinking he would be asleep, only to find him crouched over a dead body -one of the men who had been chasing me-, drinking his blood… I had run away to the nearest escape, not outside, but back to my room… Strangely, after that he had left my door unlocked, leaving food outside the door, but I was too afraid to try to escape again. One night he left a large parcel with my food, containing a lacy white nightdress and an elegant, steel grey gown, both exactly my size and both with very wide and plunging necklines. My own dress nearly in tatters, I reluctantly accepted the clothes, but I tried to keep my cloak on and long tresses of my dark hair in front of my shoulders. Unfortunately, when the vampire came to see me the next night, he caught me without my cloak. He had been dressed in all black, as I had always seen him, and he stood staring at me from the door. Positive I was going to die, I tried to stand before him as bravely as I could.

"The dress is becoming," he had said shortly, after a minute. It did not even occur to me to thank him. "You may not leave," he had continued, "but you may roam the castle as you wish. However, be warned that I may kill you at any time, so you would do best to avoid me. As you may have guessed, I normally sleep during the day." With this he had swept away, leaving me nearly too weak to stand.

For the next week I had wandered the hundreds of rooms both day and night, always taking care to avoid him but always hoping, just a little, to catch a glimpse of his gracefully powerful form. The first night that I ran into him he was reading a book in the parlor. The fire had been lit, but his armchair was in shadow and I hadn't noticed him until I had crossed the room to the bookshelf right in front of him and began scanning titles. When he stood I had gasped loudly and stepped back against the bookcase, but he had said, quite casually, not to worry -he had just eaten-, but he warned me not to make the same mistake again, before taking his book and leaving the parlor to me.

By the last night, I had almost grown used to my terrifying existence, waiting for him to attack me every night, and had nearly accepted that I was, in fact, living in the home of a vampire, when I stumbled upon him again. This time I had made the most foolish mistake possible, and walked right into what appeared to be his bedroom. He had a large oak bed, heavily canopied with scarlet and gold silk, a luxurious theme that touched everything else in the room. He lay casually across a large scarlet sofa before a grand fireplace, reading again, wearing light cotton trousers, his head propped up on his elbow… and he was… shirtless. At this moment I could not possibly believe him a monster; he looked only like an extremely, painfully attractive man.

But then he had looked up at me, his eyes as black and cold as ever, and glared at me with such and obvious look of bloodlust and hunger that I stumbled backward in terror before he even spoke.

"Wrong room…" he'd said smoothly, smiling slightly as he sat up slowly, laying his book aside and not taking his eyes off me; or rather, my exposed throat. Suddenly, however, he had closed his eyes and, keeping them shut reached for a goblet on the end table and downed its contents in a single gulp. I shivered when he lowered the cup, opening his eyes, and wiped something distinctly scarlet from his lips.

"You're lucky I had that," he said, the hunger in his eyes a little less intense. "I don't want to kill you, you know," he had said, rather conversationally. "Just don't expect me to always be able to stop myself." He was standing now, and walking toward me. The fear of a painful death, in addition to his smooth chest and low voice, all approaching me, was nearly too much to handle. I stood trembling, frozen to the spot.

"You're very beautiful, you know. And being attracted to you doesn't make anything easier…" My fear had been almost entirely shoved aside by a burning feeling in my chest and in the pit of my stomach. My only reply was to raise my eyebrows and open my mouth slightly. He stopped in front of me, a few feet away. He sighed. It was the first time I had seen him do something as casual and human as to sigh.

"I am very sorry that you have to live here like this, with the little food I have to offer, and being forced to fear and hate me. But I can't let anyone find out I am here, no one in the village would understand… I'm usually harmless unless someone flat out turns up on my doorstep… which, the villagers would, to investigate, if they found out…"

"I don't hate you." I don't know why I'd said it. It was all part of the bizarre dream. He had stopped abruptly and stared at me. And then, suddenly, he had pulled me against him…

I opened my eyes. It had not been a dream. I was back in the castle. Except that I did not lay in my bed, but his.