The Art of Darkness

One harrowing encounter in the name of education.

How I came to be in the midst of a vampire’s coven house, I’m still not certain. When sending out queries to all the local known public coven leaders, I was bold in my approach, determined to add a personal touch to my dissertation. But I knew how vampires revered their privacy so I didn't hold out much hope of a response. What little hope I had at all faded quickly with each rejection letter. Until it was down to one last house.

A month had gone by, still without any replies in my email. So it was a bittersweet surprise when I woke up one morning to find a notification in my inbox from none other than Morvinus Andonov, head of Stavanger house, offering me an invitation. I say bittersweet because as soon as I accepted, a lump grew in my throat. My professor thought it “an incredible opportunity,” and that “my efforts were brazen” to borrow his words. While he didn't advise me against such a risk, I'm not sure he meant it as encouragement either.

When the night came, I drove through the back roads of upper state Vermont, the two lane streets lined with a thick forest of pine. Coming into the private two mile gravel drive, if it weren’t for the wrought iron gate, I would’ve missed it completely. I gripped the steering wheel tighter as I made my way toward the house, wondering how many humans had made this trip not knowing it would be their last. Morvinus gave me his word that I would leave alive and intact. But, could I trust the word of a vampire?

An old estate apparently once belonging to a wealthy oil tycoon, the house itself was elegant in its grandeur, if not a bit eccentric. Styled heavily with Victorian overtones, the gothic elements seemed to contradict its fair facade, as though the house itself was a battle ground between light and dark, the cherubs and the gargoyles each competing for most prominent. As I approached the front door, it loomed over me, its intricate carvings of haunted souls left in purgatory, mouths agape in horror, stirring an uneasy feeling, as though they were issuing a warning. Proceed at your own risk, they said. Raising my hand to grasp the metal door knocker, I was stopped by a voice.

“Are you really prepared for what you are about to do?”

I jumped as Morvinus came to me, strolling along the edge of the house, hands clasped tightly behind his back, a sly grin stretching the corners of his mouth. His raven hair draped around his shoulders, pulled back to keep it tidy and out of his face, he was much more friendly-like and playful than I expected, putting me in a strange sort of false ease. However, his dark eyes betrayed him. A wildness I knew could very well mean certain death.

“Mr. Andonov, I’m sorry, you surprised me.”

“Morvinus, please. You are Ms. Hollings I presume?”

“Uh, yes. Yes, Mr.—Morvinus. Thank you for meeting with me.” I stuck out my hand, blind to protocol, but, if it bothered him, he didn’t let on, taking my hand in his icy grip and kissing it gently with a bow.

“My pleasure, Ms. Hollings.”

“Amber. Just Amber.”

“Very well. Shall we?”

He pushed against the large oak door, easing it aside with little effort despite its mammoth appearance. Inside, lay an expansive foyer, corners shrouded in darkness, hiding the true size of the room. But the heavy echoes of our feet gave it away. Sweeping down into the space, ladled with pools of moonlight spilling through the highrise windows, was an imposing staircase, casting its steps farther and wider at the bottom. Everything was dark, and not just because of the time of night. Wallpaper the color of cabernet muted still by the ashen ebony of the floor, banisters black as the night sky outside, even what little artificial light there was, softened to nearly nonexistent.

A group of vampires lingered in a seating area around a small table off to the side of the staircase. Every eye in the dim room came down upon me. And I could see it, the intensity of insatiable hunger behind each carefully laden mask. Would they see? The fear hindering every movement, every step I took, every creak of the old wooden floor beneath. Would they notice? I had been so emboldened by my goal, I thought myself braver than most. But as I walked into that lion's den, a meager little lamb, I felt like a fawn brought in for the slaughter.

“And what have you brought us tonight, Morvinus,” one woman hissed. Her long manicured nails clinked against her wine glass. Though I’m sure it wasn’t red wine she was drinking.

I froze as she and several others approached, running their fingers through my hair, surveying every curve of my figure, their noses piqued. I didn’t dare move or even object.

Morvinus laughed them away. “This one isn’t for sharing I’m afraid.”

“Why not? She looks delectable. Just one taste?” She licked her lips at me bringing herself closer.

Morvinus put himself between her and I with an authoritative posturing, “I said no.”

I could almost hear the puppy dog whine as she cowered away, retreating to the safety of the group. My breath held as I held. He wasn't waiting.

As I followed him up the grand staircase, I watched how he moved in the moonlight. More than graceful, it was elegant beyond words. A perfectly tuned machine. And dangerous, don't forget that one. Reaching the top of the stairs, he guided me into a room down the hall, closing the door behind me. It was dark, lit only by the moon from one window, and a floor lamp in the corner. Bookshelves lined an entire wall, each one filled with books. A library. I carefully took a book from the shelf, brushing a layer of dust from its cover and bringing into my nose the musty scent.

“Interesting,” Morvinus said. I had all but forgotten he was there, lost in my small little world.

“What?”

He held a curious expression, studying me, his eyes narrowing. “Most women gravitate toward the works of Austen. You chose Carroll. May I ask why?”

I turned the book over, admiring the golden inlays on the spine. Alice in Wonderland, it read.

“He changed the rules of literature, proving that even the craziest of thoughts could become the most fantastic of adventures.”

“Hmm, I suppose I never thought of him in that regard. He always did seem an odd sort.”

“You knew him?”

“Indeed.”

With this new revelation, something changed. It lightened the mood somehow, pushing the air of malevolence aside.

“What was he like? I mean, I've read his books, obviously heard stories.”

Morvinus sighed. “He was a quiet man. Not to say he was lonely. He never appeared lonely or particularly sad to be on his own. He seemed to feel most at ease tinkering with his numbers. He was strange, but, somehow, content with his unique abilities. I envied that in him.”

Morvinus reached for the book, brushing my wrist with his ice-cold fingers, causing me to jerk.

He grinned. “Did I frighten you?”

“Just startled me, that's all.”

“Your heart rate says otherwise,” he said ominously, handing me the book.

“You should be afraid. I may look human but my vampire traits run deep. Offer the right motivation and I could very well tear your throat out.”

“I don’t think so.”

“You doubt me?”

“If you really wanted that, I’d be dead already.”

“Would you?” He began moving toward me, and I away, that is until I ran out of room behind me, bumping up against the bookshelf and dropping the book.

Wrapping his chilled hand around my throat, he pushed my chin aside, leaning in. “Are you afraid now?” He whispered.

I shut my eyes tight. My breath began sticking in my throat. What do I do? I can’t run, he’s too fast. He’d catch me in a second. Less than a second. Stupid. This was so stupid! I can feel his breath on my skin. Cold, like a frost. It’s too late now. He’ll take what he wants and I brought it straight to him.

Suddenly, he laughed, a loud and boisterous sound, backing away, perching himself on the corner of a desk behind him. All I could do was stand. Still as stone, frozen by winter’s glacier.

“You have nothing to fear, Ms. Hollings, this isn’t my way.”

When my body finally caught up with my mind, I stumbled back into my muscles, nearly collapsing, as though emerging from weightlessness. Gulping my stomach contents back down, I picked up the book and adjusted my shirt.

“What is it then? Your way?”

“You really want to know?”

“I do.”

He let out a breath, straightening up tall and clasping his hands behind his back again. A tower of imminent doom, some would say.

“Before I proceed, I must warn you, if you are to leave this house alive, there are rules we must adhere to. Lines we can not cross, no matter how tempting it may become. Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

“Very well. Stay where you are and remain still.”

I nodded.

He strode slowly around me, leaving an eerie stillness in the wake of his coat. Even my heart eased its fervent thumping. I began to wonder if this was part of it. An effect of some magic he was using.

“Luring a target, like any art form, takes skill, concentration and, most of all, patience. Finding the right setting and the right timing requires precision.”

“And where would you select your target? Some dark alley somewhere?”

He chuckled, “Despite what others may have told you, vampires spend little time lurking in alleyways and far more in plain sight. I prefer local establishments, social gatherings mostly, taverns on occasion.”

“So, drunk people.”

“On the contrary, too much alcohol can slow the heart and sour the taste. But a little can go a long way to putting them at ease.”

Making a complete circle, he came to a stop in front of me.

“So, where do we start?”

“It starts with a glance.”

His eyes met mine with the darkest of grins. Captivating. “The point is to try and make eye contact.”

“And what then? Put a spell on them?” I teased.

“No spell necessary. Those who want to be seen make it known. When our eyes meet, you are already mine.”

Even though the mood was light, his words still sent a tingle down my spine. I felt my throat tighten like before.

“Okay, then what?”

“Then comes the touch.” He moved towards me again. I stayed as still as I could as he took his cold fingers, sliding up my arm, settling in the curve of my neck. His other hand found the concave of my back, a firm yet gentle reminder of his advantage. There goes my breath again. The heavy thumping of my heart became the only sound I could hear. Deafening.

Suddenly, the frigid cold turned warm, throwing out a new shiver of sensation. The ice in his hand had disappeared, meeting my body temperature.

“Whoa, how did you do that?”

“The ability to manipulate blood cells. One of the many marvels of being a vampire.”

He was so close to me I could hardly speak. I knew now what he meant by no spell was necessary. He could kiss me and I wouldn't have it in me to object. This was dangerous territory. And not just because he was capable of killing me. I trembled as his nose skimmed the side of my neck.

He smiled, “Relax, I’m not going to kiss you.”

“Why not?” It came out before I could stop it. What am I saying?

“Now that would be breaking the rules.”

His sweet breath drew me in. 

“Would you ever— I mean, how far would you take it before-“ My words were gone, tangled in my mind. A mess he had created.

He continued his soft caress, the tip of his nose barely touching, his breath surprisingly warm and soothing. A stark contrast from the last time. I had all but lost my concentration.

“Blood is best when hot and flowing freely,” he whispered, “the higher the heart rate, the better. Hmm, yours is almost perfect.”

“Almost?” I was losing it. Focus, Amber, focus!

“Aye. You are very responsive indeed.”

“And, um, what would you do to-“

“To make it just right?”

I nodded.

“There’s always a kiss. Deep and passionate. Though…”

“What? Though what?” My breath was merely in spurts now, my eyes shut, consumed by him.

“A kiss can be persuasive. But, taking a woman's lips to mine doesn't compare to taking her to my bed.”

I couldn't help myself. Call me stupid, well you wouldn't be wrong. I kissed him. And, for a moment, a brief moment, his cold lips warmed and I along with them. It was going too far, a lesson I learned very quickly when he pulled my hands away, slamming me against the bookshelf, a flash of anger in his wild eyes.

After a terrifying minute or two, his anger softened and he let go of me, turning towards the window, his reservedness returning.

“I'm sorry, Morvinus, I don't know what came over me.”

“I think it's best, if I'm to keep to my word, to end here, Ms. Hollings.”

“Oh, alright.”

Without another word or even a look, he flowed past and I followed, across the red rugs that lined the hallways, down the grand staircase, past the open mouthed vampires gathered in the foyer, and back to the door.

“Good night, Ms. Hollings. I do hope what I provided will assist with your research.” He still refused to look at me walking away as I stood on the front steps.

“Actually, if it's okay, I do have one last question.”

He paused, keeping his back turned.

“Will I ever see you again?”

“Let's hope not, Ms. Hollings, for your sake.”

I had a dissertation all written up. It was nearly complete. But, after that night, everything changed.

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