Maybe
Amara was teaching herself Latin. It was hard at some points because Dominic only had two resources: a basic workbook and a Latin-to-Italian dictionary. The workbook seemed part of a set of language books and only there because Dominic had to have the complete set no matter how superfluous. (She suspected he was one of those people who put whole albums on his Ipod, even though he only liked two songs. Assuming vampires had Ipods.) As for the dictionary, that required locating the Italian-to-English dictionary and working her way down. Still it was helping; she had deciphered several pages of the one book Dominic had caught her looking at. And it definitely wasn't a prayer book: it was a spell book, with incantations on obedience, mastery, and divination. Amara was faintly disturbed, recalling 1984. What on Earth would he need spell books for? She hoped they were a collector's item.
0-0-0-0-0
True to his word, Dominic came back on Tuesday. And left again on Friday. Now that his staff had seen him in the office, they immediately assumed he was on call again. As much as this vexed him, he was sure Amara was glad for the break. He thoroughly enjoyed her company, but realized her feelings towards people were the same as books: she loved them as long as they were not overused. He respected this, even though it made his mind anxious and his face tight like stone.
And though she got into no visible trouble, Dominic was uneasy about leaving her alone. Mostly because he knew she was searching through the books on the second level of the library. She said she couldn't read Latin, but that didn't mean anything—she was clever enough to figure something out. Still, hiding the books was a direct invitation for suspicion, and telling the full truth would only push her further from him. For now, he felt it best to play dumb and leave the books alone.
Nonetheless, he couldn't help but dote on her. The first time he came back he brought her a copy of the newly released Anna: Evaluating Tolstoy's Christ Figures. How happy was he that he could buy a present so clearly meant for her and yet, just as applicable to him? Upon reading the title she had laughed and insisted they take turns reading it out loud. They hadn't even gotten three pages into the preface before they started arguing.
"Tolstoy doesn't seem like an anarchist,"
Quickly glancing to the bottom of the page, Dominic memorized the page number before gently closing it over a finger, "What do you mean? Anna Karenina is about social restrictions."
"Anna and Kitty's problems stem from social restrictions," Amara said heatedly, sitting up from her slumped over position in the arm chair, "but Levin was modeled after Tolstoy himself and he's only concerned with the evils and follies of capitalism rather than society."
"No," said Dominic straightening his spine, "you're thinking of Nikolai Dmitrich Levin. He was a socialist."
"Yes, but Konstantin Dmitrich Levin never had any problems with society: he stuck to his farming and advocated hard work. Doesn't that seem very socialist to you?"
"Why is hard work automatically coupled with socialism? It seems more parable or bible-like than anything. Besides, capitalism is hardly the opposite of hard work."
"Of course you would say that, you're a businessman."
Dominic laughed, "Touché,"
Smiling a little more gently she added, "It just doesn't seem like Tolstoy was an anarchist because he never promoted the break-down of society only its obvious ridiculousness."
"But perhaps," speaking softly, he leaned forward to close the gap between them, "Tolstoy was only being subtle. It's dangerous, even for a nobleman, to decry society. Or maybe he was fearful of being hypocritical."
She smiled, "Maybe,"
0-0-0-0-0
Amara woke with a gasp. Off in the distance thunder snarled. Shivering, she rolled out of bed and made towards the window. Pulling back the heavy drapes she revealed a ghastly grey day. The sky was the color of an old bruise: dark purple ringed with a greenish tint. Lightening skirted across the garden, and thunder crashed dramatically as she jumped back, letting the curtains dash together.
Normally she wasn't so jumpy during thunderstorms: that was Aurora's job. But last night's dream had set her on edge. She couldn't remember exactly what it was about, but it was filled with blood and darkness. Crawling back to bed, she planned to pull the covers back over her head and go to sleep. After all, Dominic was still away on his latest business endeavor, so there was no reason to get up.
She lay there for about an hour before finally realizing there was no way she was going back to sleep. Getting up, she got dressed and decided to head downstairs for something to eat. Contacts firmly in place, she headed back towards the window for one last look. The sky was still dark and oozing lightening. A strong gust ripped through the garden sending up sprays of leaves and other garden refuse. Heart heavy, she looked towards her favorite tree to see how it was faring, and nearly swallowed her tongue. Standing directly below it, her luminescent arm delicately wrapped around the trunk was Luczia. A wicked grin spread across her face as she caught Amara's eyes. Stretching out one arm she coquettishly curled and uncurled her index finger signaling for her to come down.
Letting the curtains fall, Amara realized just how fast she was breathing. Swallowing, she tried hurriedly to make a decision. She really didn't want to go into the blustery garden to converse with Luczia: she'd had plenty of that last time. Yet, there seemed to be a compelling force (stronger than curiosity) pulling her towards the enchanting woman. Squeezing her teeth together she strode towards the stairs.
The whole time she clomped down the stairs she kept shaking her head: she couldn't believe she was doing this. It was hardly practical! Out in the garden she poked her head around, looking for both Luczia and rain. Starting to blow harder, the wind knocked her hair into her face, temporarily blinding her. Staggering, she headed in the general direction of the pomegranate tree.
"Amara…"
Amara's stomach tried to jump out her throat. Sharply turning to escape, she came within inches of Luczia's nose.
"Good morning dear," the fairy cajoled, as a prophetic roar of thunder sounded behind her.
"Hello," Amara replied distantly, taking a careful step backwards.
"Did you have a pleasant sleep?"
"Yes," she said, trying to discreetly edge away. There was something in the fairy's glinting smile that looked strangely sharp.
"Oh good. I was afraid my little storm might wake you," another bolt of lightening flashed across the sky.
Amara swallowed, "You made this happen?"
"Of course," the fairy said proudly starting her customary circle around Amara, "What's the point of having power if you don't use it?"
"Why are you here?" Amara asked heatedly, wishing for the fairy to get to the point without all her sickly sweet banter.
"Well, well," she admonished coming to a stop at Amara's left, "aren't we tetchy. What's wrong princess? Upset that your prince has left you all alone in this big place. Abandoned you to your own will?" The thunder snapped across the sky
"Excuse me?" Amara asked snottily, pulling back from Luczia.
"But it's alright, because now the girls can have a little fun,"
"What do you mean?"
"Aren't there questions you're dying to ask," the fairy sweetly inveigled, starting up her circle again, "but too afraid to ask them?" Amara grew still and quite. There were several things she would love to ask; but she didn't exactly trust Luczia's motive—whatever that was.
At last she pulled out of her thoughts, "No."
"Oh come now! There has to be something about Dominic you're dying to know. But asking him would be just too awkward."
"No."
"Really!" Squeaked Luczia snapping her fists to her hips, "You've never found strange articles or a suspicious book?"
She hit a nerve. Amara turned her head softly to look at Luczia. Her green eyes looked black in the storm. Did she dare?
"There is this one book,"
"Yes?"
"Called Alicia Libri,"
"Yes,"
"He said it was a prayer book but…"
Luczia threw her head back to the sky and let out a cackle of laughter. "Oh my darling girl! How naïve you are! But how perfectly right you are. Come with me." Stretching out her hand, Luczia beckoned Amara closer. A magnetic force began to draw Amara's hand forward.
"Wait!" Severing the tugging force Amara pulled back her hand definitively. Luczia in turn recoiled as if stung by a hornet.
"What dear?" She asked sharply, the smooth edges of her face suddenly becoming jagged and raw.
"I have to go," turning quickly Amara started for the house, her stride long and fast.
"No!"
A gust of wind lashed against Amara's torso pushing her back towards Luczia. Leaves, petals, and blades of grass were kicked up in the sudden onslaught and started to swirl in a maelstrom around her. Thunder roared right next to her ear and lightning landed within inches of her feet.
"No!" Luczia screamed again appearing in the eye of the storm to grab Amara's arm, "You can't love him! You don't deserve him! No one but me is supposed to love him! That's why he's a vampire!"
Amara, too scared to even speak, began to twist and writhe in the fairy's grip. But it was to no avail—the magical being was stronger than she was. Dragging her by the arm, the fairy roughly escorted Amara towards the gate leading to the forest.
"Stop squirming! Or I'll make you into a toad!"
"Stop it! Let me go!"
"Only one of us can love him; and I'll give you one guess as to who its not."
"Why does it matter so much?"
Luczia stopped in her tracks and gazed severely at Amara, "I'm the only one he's supposed to love. That's why he's a vampire: so no one else can love him."
Despite the severity of the situation, the only thing Amara could think of was the teen readers who practically worshipped vampirism. Any one of those girls would gladly lay down her life (and blood) for Dominic or any old vampire as long as he was dark and mysterious.
"Are you the one who made Dominic a vampire?"
Luczia laughed, "My you're...agh!" Shrieking she released Amara's arm to swat at an invisible force around her head. Not questioning Amara turned and ran as fast she could through the storm and into the house. She could hear Luczia screaming all the way into the house.
Slamming the door shut, Amara turned and pressed her back to it heaving. Just as her breath was about caught, a loud, abrasive knocking sounded from behind the door. Jumping back in fear, one of the breezes sped by Amara and opened the door. Panicked, she rushed to close it but was beaten by the breeze. Securely inside with the door closed, Amara ventured a question aloud,
"What happened?"
One of the breezes curled softly through her hair. She recognized it as Adelaide, despite its low energy. Another one of the breezes wrapped itself around her middle and Amara suddenly made the connection.
"You saved me!" She whispered suddenly turning towards Adelaide—or where she thought Adelaide was. In reply the breeze draped itself around her shoulders in an airy hug.
"Thank you," she whispered, leaning her head on the airy presence.