She Danced under the Stars ✔

12

I walk up the main path. My footsteps rustle in the silence. Crickets are chirping in the gardens. I keep a sharp eye on the garage roofs and the dormer windows, hoping to see the tall, dark figure up there, motionless against a backdrop of stars. I enter the tulip-lined passage. My eyes wander down to the hedges.

'Nathaniel?'

I listen for any signs of him, but the only reply is a breath of wind. I can feel my adrenalin rushing through me, although it's no longer able to make my heart beat in my temples. I cut across the lawn. The land slopes gently up a bit further and ends at a wire fence. There's another apartment complex behind. I tread through the weeds by the foot of the fence, then I lose myself in the sight of the path running on beyond the mesh, with its garden lamps along the sides.

'Nathaniel . . .?'

I think I can hear a rustling of cloth in the bushes. I turn to the right. A shadow slithers up to me. 'Bonsoir, ballerina,' a male voice purrs in my ear.

An ice-cold hand, soft as silk, slips into mine. I shudder. Why does fear no longer deign to sweep over me? I turn my head just a bit; my gaze flickers over my shoulder to the vampire. His grey, mercury-bright eyes capture mine and a smile plays over his lips.

My whole body tingles from head to toe. Butterflies flit about in the pit of my stomach. 'Where is Lily?' I dare to ask.

'She's learning,' he says. 'Just like you will.' His smile widens, without his fangs being exposed, and his hand leaves mine. He turns round and disappears into the darkness. 'Follow me.'

I fall into step behind him. We walk up the path side by side, until we go through a little gate and come out onto the street that is a continuation of mine. A route made of deserted alleys brings us closer to the little avenue that ends at the station: this is the sinew of the town, with trendy bars and clubs by way of fibres.

There must be a theme evening at the Chat Noir, like almost every Saturday. As we cut across the public garden, I dare to speak with a bit more self-assurance. 'You're not the only one in this town, are you?'

The tails of his long black coat, in favor of which he's left his cloak, dance with each of his steps. His leather boots with silver laces tread the sand soundlessly. I am mesmerized by the waves in his twilight-colored hair, moving down his back under the light of the street lamps. 'The only vampire,' I add in a whisper.

All around us, the leaves of the plane trees murmur in the wind. The babble of a fountain can be heard further down. The statue of the grenadier seems to dart a blank look at us.

'Does Lily have any in Brest?' he asks.

'Well, um . . . I don't know. I don't think so. How do you know where she comes from? Did she tell you?'

His steely gaze falls on me. I gulp. If I sink into his eyes once again, I'm done for . . . He flashes a smile at me and looks away. We keep walking across the public garden. 'You always feel alone in the end,' he admits, as we go down the stone stairs that lead to the avenue.

I shrug. 'Now you have Lily and I. We are your companions on the arm of death, whether we like it or not.'

He freezes at the bottom of the stairs then turns to me and grabs my chin. His face is so close that I can feel the cold aura of his skin. I look down at his lips. Not such a good idea. He leans in and captures my mouth. I shut my eyes. His kiss has no taste. His lips feel like a marble gag, and yet his tongue caresses my own with so much sensuality that it makes me dizzy. He strokes my hair. I press my mouth harder against his, deepening the kiss. I wish I could sip at his soul as if it was Bloody Mary . . .