Vow of Blood and Starlight (a Pride and Prejudice retelling)

Chapter Thirteen

The world had been blissful for the Bennet's until the letter arrived. The panicked messenger nearly fell off his mount as he rounded the corner at full gallop and rammed himself and his horse into the stone archway. Elizabeth had been quick to meet him as he rushed to lose the letter from a small cluster of others and shove it into her hand before storming off.

Elizabeth read the entirety of the letter before she entered the house and was nearly sobbing as she made her way into the kitchen. Mrs. Bennet nearly dropped her pot of tea at Elizabeth's dramatic door slamming entrance. Mr. Bennet on the other hand, used to the constant drama, continued the consistent puffing of his pipe.

Elizabeth smacks the letter down on the table at a distance too far for anyone else to read as she screams the contents out loud.

"My kind friends will not hear of me going home. With nothing more than a fever and a headache I should be right in a few days." Elizabeth growls as she deadpans her mother. "So much for your schemes mama, Jane is ill.

Mrs. Bennet, not at all bothered by the news, chuckles. "No one has died of a cold in years. Besides the more time she spends with Bingley the more attached he will become."

Elizabeth nearly tears the letter in frustration before taking a large deep breath. "I must go to her."

Mary nearly gasps, "You have a mind to walk? Missy and Lee are out with Lydia and Kitty, they may not be back for hours."

Elizabeth grunts in acknowledgment, "I am rather fond of walking. If for nothing more than to make sure Jane's pursuits of Mr. Bingley don't get her killed."

Elizabeth storms from the room without a second glance at her treacherous family.

                                                                                                           *

A bite from a rabid vampire is sure to make the newly turned rabid. The science behind that fact is undeniable and sits in Darcy's soul like led. It has been nearly half a day since Darcy dragged Jane into Netherfield. Only a half hour in that time was the girl awake enough to write a letter home. As of now she lays in bed with the sweats. A common first sign of the change.

Darcy leans back in his chair aware of the dents he is making in the armrests, but unable to ease his anxiety enough to release his grip.

If she turns. No. Darcy shakes his head against the thought. His whole world would burn if such a thing happened. Because of what it would force him to do.

Darcy looks out the window and watches in the reflection as Bingley paces from one bookshelf to the next, skimming his hand along the bindings of titles he does not read. Caroline sits on the sofa, unamused with the current happenings. Darcy grunts at the thought of her dismissive nature.

The door swings open and on instinct Darcy rises from his seat. Bingley too stands at attention as they await the arrival of whomever may walk through the door. Darcy's heart drops to his feet as Elizabeth, disheveled and flushed moves swiftly into the space.

A large streak of red stains the bottom half of her combat dress and she holsters her sword at her belt. She deadpans the room before her eyes settle on Darcy.

Caroline watches the exchange of unspoken words between the two before chuckling.

"My goodness, Ms. Elizabeth, did you walk here?"

Elizabeth jolts as her eyes move to Caroline's smug face and then down to her own dirt and blood stained dress before proudly looking up and smiling. Something between acknowledgment and contempt laced her words as she spoke.