Suffocate In Spirit - Shadows of the Night 4

Chapter 39

Hi!

I guess you could say this is the chapter many of you have been waiting for, with a twist... Ah, but I'm getting ahead of myself. Anna's going to need all the armour (physical, magical and mental!) she has, and more, if she wants to survive this!

Lara

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Chapter 39

The bed was gargantuan. A four-poster monstrosity that could have easily accommodated four people. Pristinely white sheets and blood-red scatter cushions that must have cost a fortune. I snorted, and started walking towards it.

The mattress was as soft as it looked. I lay down and closed my eyes for a moment. Just a moment. One moment, before I had to figure out what to do about this mess.

I didn't fall asleep - I couldn't, not with all that had happened within the last hours - but I must have drifted into that narrow space between wakefulness and sleep where dreams can become real and vice versa. It's the place where vague ideas form into something solid. I was having one of those moments, watching a thought evolve inside my mind, when I heard it. A rustling sound coming from somewhere beside me. Close. Too close.

I opened my eyes and righted myself in one fluid second. Alexander was standing on the other side of the bed. The white base of his neck peeked through the unbuttoned top of his crisp shirt. At some point in time he must have gotten rid of his dinner jacket.

I glanced at the door, took measure of the room, then looked back at him. His dinner jacket, which was now lying abandoned on the red carpet. Which totally wasn't like him. Alexander was meticulous - a walking redefinition of the term 'control freak'. I stared at the jacket, then at him. At first I thought he was giving me one of his carefully neutral stares. It took me a moment to realize he wasn't looking at me. The vampire was staring right through me, his eyes caught in something that probably did not exist in this world.

"Alexander? Is everything uh... alright?"

He didn't blink like a human might have. Instead his pupils narrowed then dilated, like a widening pool of clear, dark water. Having the head vampire's full attention was more than just a slow prickle at the nape of my neck. It was a set of icy feathers skimming over unexposed skin. Alexander looked at me for a long moment before he turned his back on me.

"I am not quite certain about that yet," he said, walking away from the bed.

I didn't hear his footsteps. It was almost like he was gliding towards the serving trolley beside the lush couch I did my best to neglect so far.

His answer rattled me more than I liked to admit. So far I'd only been worrying about me being exposed to whoever was attending Red Night's Eve. But, somewhere deep down inside I must have believed that Alexander was going to walk me out into the sea of undead, yank my chain a little while at it, and then bring me back, no matter what. Somehow I'd seen him as a wall between me and whoever would and could probably harm me.

It was in this moment that I saw it. I realized that the only thing that could get me out of this was Alexander. I needed him like I'd never needed him before. He was the only thing standing between me and death.

Fear, dark and ugly, stretched out its bony hand, reaching for my heart. The head vampire of New York never admitted being in the dark about anything without there being proof of the contrary. What could have happened that made him abandon his one-man-show of omniscience?

I got up from the bed slowly, watching him warily. There was an assortment of drinks on the golden ornamented serving trolley, heavy stuff, the kind that probably cost more than a fortune. He had his back to me. As I approached him, he poured dark liquid into an exclusive brandy glass that might have well seen the turn of the last century.