VIOLET DAWN

Chapter 47

Violet opened her eyes and darkness greeted her. In the distance a door slammed shut. She thought it was odd. Were there doors in heaven? 

Whispers came to her from a distance. She ignored them. She was happy, happy that it was finally all over. Her only disappointment was that it was still dark.

Shouldn't her sight have returned now that she was dead? She closed her eyes, there really was no point in keeping them open. The time of pretending was over.

A smile spread across her face. No more pretending. It was a wonderful thought.

"Violet?"

Patrick's voice. It had to be a trick. It couldn't be right. That would mean that he had died too. 

She breathed quickly and the sweet scent of the mountains and heather filled her. It was him. Violet struggled between elation and dread.

"How did you die?"

The mattress dipped beside her and it was only then that Violet realised  that she was lying on a bed.

"I'm not dead sweetheart."

Oh, he wasn't dead. He was just an illusion, and why not? This was heaven, was it not? She was to get her hearts desires here, and Patrick was what her heart desired most. How wonderful of the angels to make her such a gift.

"I never meant to hurt you." Speaking to the illusion felt good, almost as good as speaking to the real Patrick felt. Except that the real Patrick always touched her, on her hand, her cheek, her hair. She loved that about him.

A cold hand brushed against her cheek and made Violet laugh.

"Oh, it is perfect, except that your hands are so cold."

The fingers withdrew.

"I think perhaps I loved you the first time we met, when you saved me from that lion. It was the scent of you. I couldn't get it out of my mind."

"And I love you, Violet."

Violet laughed again, the sound warm and rich, "This is heaven, I knew it the minute I woke to the smell of apple pie."

"Mrs. Devon. She has been ordering the cook to bake apple pies since I brought you home. She insists she wants it fresh and warm when you awake."

"Mrs. Devon." Violet thought of the woman; bossy, judgemental, domineering and yet, so very kind.

"I would have liked to say goodbye to her." Suddenly the happiness of a moment before shrunk in size. Violet thought of Sarah and Old Graham and his wife and Angelica and Mikhail and Bess. And then she remembered.

"Ismail. Is he dead too?"

He was holding her hand now, cold fingers closing over her skin. Why did she feel so tired?

"No, he is fine. You will be fine. And our baby, our baby will be fine too."  

A baby. Yes, they told her she was pregnant. Had that been true then? Tears welled up in her eyes as she thought of the innocent soul that she had put in harms way. If she had known, maybe she would have done things differently...

"Is my baby is heaven too?"

"Hush sweetheart, you are fine, the baby is fine" Patrick put his head on her stomach, his hands holding her close. "It is over now, I will never let anyone hurt you again. Either of you."

Violet's head hurt. Was your head supposed to hurt in heaven? She was feeling very tired all of a sudden. Where had the peace gone? Why was everything beginning to ache?

The unpleasant odour of sweat filled her senses and she found herself shivering from the cold.

"Violet?"

Suddenly her mind cleared, and all the memories of the day before rushed back. The cellar, the altar, Patrick lifting her from the marble, taking her away from that place.

She sat up, flinging her arms around him.

"You came for me."

"I was late," he said into her hair. "I should never have agreed to the plan, I should have taken better care of you."

She pulled away slowly, "Patrick, Ismail, is he really..." She could not bring herself to finish the sentence. What if it hadn't been real? She might be confused.

Patrick sighed as he took her hands. "Ismail told me a story not so long ago about a woman he met in the highlands whilst on a trip to visit me. He and your mother only spent one night together, and that night, Ismail was not himself. He had been drinking frogs blood, a blood type that effects a vampire much like alcohol effects a human.

Ismail did not remember that night well and that when he woke, he had found your mother gone. Worried that he may have frightened her somehow, he found out where she lived and called on her everyday for two weeks. Your mother refused to see him, and in the end, believing she wanted to be left alone, Ismail left." Patrick stroked her hair, as Violet tried to take in the story of her conception.

"He could not have guessed that the night would result in a child. As I told you before, Vampires and Humans are incompatible in that way."

Violet's brows drew together, "Except my mother did get pregnant."

"Yes," Patrick agreed, "Because she, like Angelica's mother, is from the Blessed bloodline."

The Blessed bloodline. Violet took her hand from Patrick's and put it on her stomach. She was pregnant. She had a father. And Angelica and Mikhail...they were her cousins.

Could the world be any different?