The Brighton Estate, London; April 12, 1913.
She had walked for nearly two centuries, watching attentively and waiting for the perfect victim to catch her eye. Perhaps her tastes were too refined and even though she resisted feeding from humans sometimes it was unavoidable the desire too strong to be overcome; but she was still young in a way. By some fanciful way she had dabbled in the darkest of magic available to her and through a deal with the devil himself she asked to be able to walk in the sun, and so such a request was granted that she kill, never turn her victims.
Now she stood in the stables, nurturing her horses. At the moment she was brushing the mane of one of the less mature ones, his coat was as black as night as was his mane, but already she could tell he would be a marvelous animal. His size already matched that of his mothers and there was surely another year of growth left for him. His name was rather untraditional in comparison to her previous horses, but for this beast, it was fitting. She called him Topthorn, but when she finished tending to the beasts she knew there was naught even but a few hours left before the first of the spring soirées would begin. The whole town would be buzzing because of her festivities.
The people that came to her lavish parties were never disappointed, but on occasion there would be one less person leaving than came. For tonight's she had received correspondence that a dear friend would be there and for that she was happy. The mirror Adam had enchanted nearly two centuries ago had not moved from its place, it still hung resiliently, but as she added a simple strand of pearls to her outfit of the evening the dark and brooding figure that sat in the shadows amongst the light of her room only made her laugh in excitement.
"Adam! Darling, it has been too long." She waved her hand and the curtains fell before the open windows, blocking the sunlight, he approached her, kissing her hand. "How is Eve?" He scoffed at the mention of his wife, she and Izabella had met twice before, each taking a keen liking to one another, and for that he wished to keep the two of them apart lest he be driven mad.
"She still thinks me to be perverse and childish, so for lack of better words, our marriage is on a hiatus of sorts." Izabella shook her head, her gloved hands resting on his shoulders, before she captured one of his hands within hers and pulled him over to her wardrobe, he stood closely behind her as she reached for the ornate box on top, together they walked to the bed where she sat down, pushing the box towards him.
"I know you love instruments dearly. I've had this for quite some time, last time you visited I forgot completely about it." A genuine smile actually threatened to form on his lips, carefully he leaned over and kissed her softly on the lips, a deep shade of rogue rushing to her cheeks. Within the box was a case, formed to fit a small string instrument, but it had no branding only a date engraved, she watched as he ran his finger across the lettering before finding the hinges and flipping the lid open. Izabella could easily tell that he was at a loss for words, but she urged him to take the violin in hand, he did so turning the cherry stained wood over in his hands.
"A Stradivarius," deftly he plucked one of the strings, sighing in contentment at the timbre and sound quality. "Belle, you shouldn't've." She only smiled, her scarlet hair an odd accompaniment to her golden eyes and sky blue gown but she looked stunning, a vision to behold. Adam fiddled with the pegs and then the fine tuner before lifting the bow from the case as well and playing a short number of scales.
"I was actually hoping you would play a piece tonight," he hummed, urging her to continue, "maybe Schumann, or Schubert, even Beethoven." Reverently he ghosted his fingers over the smooth wooden body of the instrument before placing it back within its case, standing from the bed. Izabella jumped when his arms wrapped around her waist, a soft kiss placed to her neck where two small scars remained from that night so many years ago.
"Adam." He nuzzled into her neck for just a few seconds later before the arrival of the first guests was announced. She pulled out a suit, in his size and to his measurements, placing it across the bed next to the violin. "If you want to play," she gestured to the formal ensemble, "if not I'll be back in a few hours." Izabella stood on the top of the staircase overlooking elegant gowns and suits, the pleasant chatter began shortly after the first bottle of champagne was opened, its cork barely missing a painting done by Monet at her personal request. She sighed in relief when it hit the wall and not the floral painting.
She roamed the crowd, greeting the nobles and notable guests with a politeness that was a focal point on her reputation. She stopped in her tracks when she noted two men with their military dress uniform on. The royal blue standing out among the crowd of black suits and tuxedoes, Izabella approached the two men, a wide smile on her face. The first to greet appeared to be the younger of the two, he took her hand, pressing his lips to her gloved knuckles. "James Nicholls at your service Miss."
With a playfulness about her she did a small curtsy. "Izabella Brighton at yours." He looked to his friend who seemed disinterested in the conversation and wondered off to the parlor.
"You must excuse Jamie, he is a very serious man. I can rarely get him out for a party such as this." Izabella smiled at the officer, a quick glance at his ranking told her he was a Captain, and judging by his build a member of the Calvary. Silence hung between them for a moment but he offered the crook of his arm, and out of politeness she took it, leading him outside for a breather or perhaps to feed, she wasn't sure of herself yet.
"Miss Brighton, please excuse my forwardness, but I must say you look stunning." She had heard flattery such as this many times and why his words were the ones to make her blush she knew not but heat rushed to her cheeks regardless of her cold blood and she squeezed his arm a tad bit tighter. She wanted to smile but the light of the moon made her canines grow to their elongated form, so she simply curved the corner of her lip upwards.
"And if you excuse my forwardness, you look very dashing Mr. Nicholls." She heard the rumble of his mirthful and lively laughter and though every primal urge was telling her to sink her teeth into him and feed she repressed those feelings and ended up in the stables, Topthorn, the rowdy thing that he was stamped about until she fished a sugar cube from the pack at the door. James chuckled and stroked the horse's muzzle with reverence.
"Magnificent beast you have here," in the low light she could see him smile and without thought she smiled back, reaching over the stall door to pat the horse's shoulder.
"Ahhh, a rather rowdy beast too. Always like to start trouble, this one, I am actually thinking of taking him to market as one of my mares is due any week now." She showed the gentle captain the old girl that she had named Gail, her belly swollen as she was in the latter stage of pregnancy. Izabella led James from the stables but as they passed Topthorn's stall the horse nudged James in the back with enough force that he lost footing and fell into the lady of the house, but at the last second he was able to break her fall. He laughed it off but she glared back at the horse who almost looked to be smiling, the feeling of James's hard chest beneath her hands was frightfully exhilarating.
"My apologies Miss Brighton." He pulled her up from the ground, helping brush the grass from her hair and dirt from her gloves.
"Please, call me Belle." His smile made her weak, she shed the elbow length gloves and held them in her hands, twisting the fabric nervously as the two walked back to the house and party.
"Then I insist you call me James." She nodded and as she neared the house she could hear the virtuoso playing that could only be Adam, and surely enough when the two entered the house he stood at the top of the staircase wearing the suit she had laid out his fingers rapidly moving down the neck of the instrument as he worked the bow across the strings. She smiled up at him, hoping to catch his gaze but as he played he kept his eyes shut, moving with the meter and rhythm. At a particular cadence she realized the tune to be one of Beethoven's, one of her favorites, from there it transformed to a slower selection and with courage he didn't think he possessed James held his hand out, silently asking Izabella for a dance.
He pulled her into a slow waltz-like dance, his hands placed respectfully on her waist and hers on his shoulders. For the time they danced she was amazed by his eyes, the kindness and gentleness that they held. It had been years since she looked into eyes such as his. It didn't register that Adam had stopped the music until the other party goers erupted into applause and chatter once more, awkwardly James distanced the two of them, still persisting to carry on conversation.
Though the night was far from young and many had left, she and James spoke of his childhood, her passions, and he had even shyly admitted to being an artist. They were only interrupted when the Major came to retrieve the young Captain, they bickered in good nature for a moment before he pulled Izabella aside.
"I do hope that we may see each other again, Belle." She smiled at his words and boldly kissed the Captain's cheek, the stain on her lips lightly transferred to his skin.
"Tea is at four every day," she smiled as he retreated to the car with Jamie, a soft sigh escaping her lips as she leaned against the door frame watching the car disappear into the distance, a soft cloud of dust trailing behind. They were the last ones to leave the party and behind her was Adam, his hands tugging at her waist.
"Belle, I'm starving. Why did you let him get away?" She gasped as if appalled at the idea of drinking James's blood, and out of annoyance she flicked her longtime friend on the nose, to which he dramatically held as if it had been broken. Izabella laughed at his reaction, thinking Eve wise to call him childish, but there was a tug in her chest at the thought of harming James, and she would not allow it.
"We are not drinking James, not tonight, not ever." She nearly growled, he was shocked by the determination in her voice and her urge to protect a stranger, but as she ascended the stairs he followed. Hidden away in a spare room was an ice box of sorts and within was six vials of blood, pure, as it had come from only the healthiest of patients and her personal preference, O negative. She pulled two out and lugged Adam back to her room where she grabbed the small glass he had given her and from his own bag he produced a similar one, though his would have been years older than hers.
The glasses were filled with the sweet essence of blood and with a small toast they tipped the glasses back and fell into a world of ecstasy.
A/N: The composition Adam is playing is Beethoven's Romance No. 2 in F major, Op. 50.
