Chapter Four:
The ballad that played was sweet and slow. It wrapped Theresa and Vlad in a pleasant cocoon. The might have been alone, for all the party's bustle reached them. The clink of glasses and laughter were drowned out by the sound of Theresa's wildly beating heart. The light in Vlad's blue eyes shone brighter than the electric candelabras Timothy had pulled out for the occasion.
For the length of that one song, Vlad was Theresa's whole world.
At first, Vlad held Theresa stiffly, formally even. But, as they swayed together to the sweeping melody, he slowly relaxed into the embrace. One hand slid from its uneasy resting place on her waist to press against the small of Theresa's back, drawing her nearer. They were close enough that their clothes brushed – but not close enough for their bodies to do the same.
The tantalizing thrill of almost-but-not-quite sent Theresa's senses into overdrive. She was ultra-aware of Vlad's hand in hers; of the gentle pressure at her back that guided her around the dancefloor. She knew that he felt the same because a fine tremor ran through him when she laid her head on his chest.
There was no way to explain the way that she felt, except to say that it felt as though she'd just gotten home after a very long trip. Touching Vlad, being held by him, was so familiar that it was almost painful.
She pulled back far enough to look up at him-
And everything changed.
The Vlad who had stared at Theresa with unabashed wonder just minutes before was gone. In his place was a Vlad with blood-red eyes that burned with an inhuman hunger. He opened his mouth to reveal two sharp canines.
Theresa screamed and recoiled. As she backed away, she stumbled over something on the floor and went sprawling. Horrified, Theresa realized that the something she'd tripped over was a someone. Or, rather, had been. Glassy eyes stared up unseeingly at Theresa from a face frozen forever in an expression of terror.
It wasn't the only one. The gallery, which had been full of music and chatter, was silent. The DJ slumped over his sound equipment, blood seeping into the keys on his laptop. Waiters and waitresses lay in heaps around the room, champagne mingling with their blood. God, there was so much blood. It stained tablecloths and dotted paintings. It trickled from the mouths of corpses and pooled under fallen bodies.
Confusion battled fear for dominance within Theresa. Neither had a chance to win. Vlad fell upon her then, his fangs snapping at her throat.
"No!"
Theresa nearly fell out of bed as she struggled to break through the nightmare that had claimed her sleeping mind. Her pulse raced. Sweat dotted her brow.
God. It had been so real. Until the moment Vlad turned into a monster, the dream had mirrored their dance perfectly. Right up to the point where the music ended and Vlad made some lame excuse to escape Theresa's company. He never returned.
No wonder her sleeping mind fabricated such a horrible end to the night.
Frustrated, Theresa rolled over in bed – and was surprised to find herself looking at a delicate silver crucifix on a chain. She reached out slowly to pick it up with fingers that suddenly shook.
What the-
It was the cross Theresa's mother had given her for her sixteenth birthday. Theresa hadn't thought about the necklace in years; hadn't worn it in much longer. The necklace lived in the bottom of her jewellery box. How on earth had it ended up on her pillow?
Theresa was out of bed in a heartbeat. She hurried to the window that overlooked what passed for her apartment building's backyard. Locked tight. Unnerved, she moved through the apartment, turning on every light she passed and checking every lock. By the time she finished, Theresa found herself almost wishing that she had found an open window.
Because if she really was alone in the apartment, how the hell had the crucifix gotten from Theresa's jewellery box to her pillow?
Certain that sleep would not return that night, she went to make herself a strong pot of coffee.