Hidden - a dark romance (Marchwood Vampire Series #1)

  ‘Wicked,’ Ben said through a mouthful of scrambled egg on toast.

  ‘Don’t go in the dining room,’ Maddy warned. ‘Your present’s in there and I want us to ... Hey!’ she shouted as he jumped up from the table and dodged past her.

  She chased after him, but it was too late. Ben pushed open the dining room door and there it stood in all its shiny glory, gleaming in the corner with a big red bow around it.

  ‘Oh wow! A trail bike!’ he gasped.

  Maddy forgot her annoyance and just enjoyed the look of happiness and excitement on his face as he skidded across the room still draped in its redundant Christmas decorations.

  ‘Merry Christmas, shortie.’

  *

  Alexandre felt the previous evening had proved most unsatisfactory in terms of finding out exactly what had happened to wake him from his long sleep. He had meant to quiz Madison further, but he hadn’t been able to think properly. The date, the lost years – these revelations had blurred his mind.

  He wondered how exactly he had come to be outside in the daylight. He remembered the agony of it and his undignified struggle to find his way back to the darkness and then seeing her with the axe poised above his cowering head, ready to strike. He did not really blame her for that. She had quite understandably thought him dangerous. But he needed to know the details. Had the daylight woken him up? Had it jolted him out of his coma? Would it work on the others?

  Last night, after his hunting trip, he had hoped to speak with Madison, but she had retired to bed and so instead he had slowly wandered through the sleeping house, remembering his bygone era as if it were yesterday. He now saw strange machines and objects in the rooms. Alien things - boxes and flashing coloured lights, large square units and small shiny intricate devices.

  He had sat for a while in the drawing room until he felt the creeping approach of dawn and then reluctantly he had taken himself back down to the room in the cellar.

  Now he looked miserably at his grey surroundings and sat on the edge of Isobel’s crate. When Harold had been alive, the house had been fitted with shutters to keep out the daylight. In this way, they’d had the run of the place at any time of day. Harold must have brought their sleeping bodies down into the cellar some time before he died and sealed them away.

  It was just all too depressing to contemplate. He could feel despair washing over him again. No friends, no family, no freedom. And the last thing he felt like doing was sleeping. Thoughts and questions whirred through his mind. His body felt strong and full of energy, but the daylight made him a prisoner.

  The room appeared clean, but had an unusual feel about it. There was none of the comfort and luxury he remembered. Just bare walls and floor and the hospital stench of chlorine. He wondered at the empty bed and then noticed a black leather-bound book on the bedside table. A bible?

  The pages were yellowed with age. Not a bible, but someone’s handwriting. Alexandre began to read. It was a journal of some sort ...

  … and so I watch them, unable to help. I miss Victoria and feel sure she would have known what to do for the best. She was always more practical than I …

  Harold’s journal! Alexandre skipped ahead to the last entry:

  …I am ninety two years of age. The pen shakes in my hand and my eyes are almost useless in this dim candlelight, but I must write of the __

  And here the entry ended. Alexandre closed the book. Harold was dead. He would never see his parents’ friend again. The man who had cared for him and his siblings as though they were his own. Poor Harold. He must have watched over them for the rest of his lonely days.

  Were he and the others now immortal? In all these years they had not aged a day. Would they live forever? It was a frightening thought. Please God, let the others wake up. He felt a creeping loneliness slide between his ribs. He climbed into his crate and closed his eyes, willing sleep to blot out the panic. He might be immortal, but human emotion now threatened to overpower him.

  *

  Madison did not go down into the cellar. She tried to keep her thoughts on her brother and his recovery, but Alexandre ran through her mind constantly, like a backing track on a continuous loop. Of course, Ben wanted to take his motorbike out straight away, but both Madison and Doctor Wilson expressly forbade it and, to Ben’s disgust, he was forced to delay his desires for at least a week - Madison hid the keys.

  Esther still hung about the place and she and Maddy sniped constantly at each other, in subtle competition with each other over who was the best qualified to care for Ben during his grouchy recovery stage. All in all, tensions ran high throughout the house and in the end Madison couldn’t stand the atmosphere any more. By mid afternoon she conceded defeat and left Ben in Esther’s grumbling care, deciding to go out despite the bitterly cold weather.

  She shrugged on her thick puffa coat, a woolly hat, gloves and a scarf to cover her mouth and nose. The lemon bright sunshine gave no heat and the wind spat out an icy northern blast. Madison walked for fifteen minutes and then gave up, turning back and making her way over to the Land Rover.

  She decided to drive slowly around the estate and listen to some tunes on her iPod. She needed something to drown out the jumble of thoughts that refused to order themselves. If only she had somebody to talk to about all this. She couldn’t make sense of anything by herself and didn’t know what to do for the best.

  Was she stupid to stay in this place with its secrets and dangers? But where else could they go? This was her place as long as she lived in it. If they moved out, they would lose everything, but maybe that would be better than this constant strangeness.

  She started up the engine and motored across the front lawn. Morris would give her the evils, for making tracks across the grass, but he was the least of her worries. She would head down to the woods, see if the river had frozen and then she’d drive back. Half an hour’s worth of loud music and beautiful scenery would help her to relax before night fell and he returned.

  Was he down there in the cellar now? She hadn’t dared to go and look. The very thought of it made her heart stand still and her stomach disappear through the floor. She pressed play and a wall of guitars and drums quelled her panic. She put pressure on the accelerator and shot off down the hill towards the dark smudge of woods in the distance. Brown rabbits bounded out of her way and birds flocked together overhead, gloating and secure in each other’s company. She reached down and felt around for the plastic shape of her sunglasses to shield against the metallic glint of winter.

  Before long, Madison reached the river, turned off the engine and the music and jumped down onto the slippery bank. The grey brown river still flowed, although a few sheets of ice floated near the edges. A couple of ducks huddled on the far bank and eyed Madison hopefully in case she’d brought them any tasty titbits.

  ‘Sorry, birdies,’ she said, as a green-necked drake stood up and waddled towards her. ‘I forgot to bring bread today. Next time, I promise.’

  The duck looked across at Madison. He quacked a couple of times before realising he wasn’t in luck and waddled back to his mate, plopping down disappointedly next to her.

  As Madison cruised back up the tree-lined avenue, the sun cast dappled shadows on the tarmac. Bright, dark, bright, dark, bright, dark. Maddy’s sunglasses gave everything an unreal quality, like she was looking at an old, jerky movie reel. Bright, dark, bright, dark. She had turned off her music and instead, heard the tyres hissing along the road and the engine humming in time. Bright, dark, bright, dark. The avenue of trees came to an end and she drove into brightness again.

  Back home to her house of secrets. Excitement and anticipation overlaid a gut-clenching fear that wouldn’t be pushed away. She stopped trying to blot out her thoughts and decided to give in to them, to see if it lessened her anxiety. She was undeniably besotted with Alexandre, but he also terrified her to the point of numbness. He was a vampire for God’s sake. A mythical being from another century. He was also heartbreakingly beautiful a
nd she felt sick with nerves when she was near him. But was that because of what he was or because of who he was?

  Her home, her refuge from the world was now an unpredictable place. Alexandre had a prior claim to the house and there was no way she could ask him to leave. Anyway, she didn’t think she wanted him to leave.

  And what about the others? The ones still sleeping. What on earth would happen when they woke up? Because she knew they would wake up at some point. It was surely only a matter of time. Alexandre awoke, so it followed they would too.

  She did want to meet her ancestors – a real family she could call her own. She and Ben wouldn’t be alone anymore, but it would be beyond weird to have ancestors the same age as them. She supposed it might be like having cousins. And it would be great for Alexandre to get his brother and sister back.

  But if that happened, Marchwood House would definitely not be hers and Ben’s anymore. Leonora and Freddie Swinton had a much stronger right to it than she did. Well, legally they were dead with no rights to anything, but she wouldn’t be able to stand in their way if they wanted to reclaim it. To have it to themselves.

  She’d just have to hope they’d all get along, like one nice big happy family. But Madison had long passed the point of believing in fairy tales. And what about Morris and Esther? How would she keep the existence of five vampires a secret from them? It was going to get ridiculously complicated.

  She sat there in the Land Rover, on the driveway. Nervous. The sun was setting fast and she knew he’d make an appearance soon. She’d have to tell Ben. Warn him beforehand. She took a deep breath and opened the Land Rover door.

  Chapter Twenty Two

  *

  ‘Yeah, that’s hilarious, Maddy,’ her brother said.

  Esther had finally gone home and night had almost fallen. Madison and Ben sat in the lounge half-watching a repeat of Only Fools and Horses. The log fire blazed as they slouched on the sofa. Ben in his pjs with a quilt pulled over him.

  ‘Ben, I’m deadly serious.’ Madison scooched up closer to him. She’d just told him a condensed version of what had happened yesterday - that the five statues in the cellar were not statues, they were vampires. One of them had woken up and they would probably see him tonight.

  ‘Mads, what are you like?’

  ‘I’m not ‘like’ anything. His name is Alexandre and I don’t think he’s dangerous. He’s French.’

  ‘A French vampire?’ Ben looked at her. ‘Does he suck blood and turn into a bat?’

  ‘Ben, I promise I’m not winding you up. I just don’t want you to freak out when you meet him. I wanted to warn you first.’ Maddy knew she wouldn’t get him to believe her. He would only believe his own two eyes. ‘How are you feeling now anyway? You look tired.’

  ‘I’m alright. Bit knackered though.’

  He was doing pretty well, considering he’d only just woken up properly today, after being so ill for days. He’d slept after lunch and Esther had wanted him to stay in bed, but he’d ignored her and had come downstairs to watch TV.

  ‘Maybe you should go back to bed. You can meet Alexandre tomorrow.’

  Ben rolled his eyes at his big sister, then he leaned his head back onto the sofa and closed his eyes.

  ‘You know what? I know it’s early, but I am gonna go to bed. I can’t keep my eyes open.’ He blinked and yawned loudly, dragging himself upright. ‘Night, Mads. Do I need to take any garlic with me?’

  ‘Night, Ben. No garlic required. D’you need anything? Any water?’

  ‘Nah, see you tomorrow.’ He sloped out of the room dragging his duvet with him and she heard the boards creaking as he walked up the stairs.

  Maddy pointed the remote at the TV and clicked it off. Now what should she do? Ben didn’t believe her and she supposed she couldn’t really blame him. She wouldn’t have believed her either. At least she didn’t have to deal with his reaction tonight. She chewed her thumbnail. Would Alexandre even make an appearance? Or had he gone? She should really eat something but she didn’t feel vaguely hungry.

  She stood up and walked towards the lounge door and then changed her mind and sank back down onto the sofa, pulling her legs up under her. She chewed her other thumbnail and wished for the thousandth time she had somebody to talk to about everything.

  A copy of the NME sat on the coffee table. She flicked it open and skimmed through the articles. Her brain registered the familiar band names without taking in the details. It was no good, she couldn’t concentrate. This couldn’t go on. She was a nervous wreck. Vomiting was a definite possibility. She tossed the magazine back onto the coffee table and leaned back, stretching her arms above her head. It was properly dark outside now and she switched on some side lamps. They cast a warm glow around the room. The fire crackled and spat.

  Madison jumped. What was that? It sounded like … yes. Someone was knocking softly at the lounge door.

  ‘May I come in?’

  Madison’s heart pounded but then, when she actually saw him, she relaxed a little. He smiled enquiringly at her with soft brown eyes, not at all scary or threatening. Just, insanely gorgeous.

  ‘Um, yeah,’ she said, straightening up on the sofa. ‘Yeah, come in. Sit down.’

  ‘Thank you. I hope I did not startle you. It must feel strange to know I am in your house.’ He sat on the sofa opposite and leaned forward.

  ‘Well, it does a bit. But it’s okay.’ She accidentally smiled at him.

  Alexandre looked at Madison. She was quite outrageously dressed in skin-tight blue trousers and a close-fitting woollen top. Her clothes looked like the thick undergarments a labourer might wear and yet the effect was very pleasing. She looked extremely becoming with her pale skin, short dark hair and those beautiful blue, black-rimmed eyes. Like a Russian wolf.

  ‘I must apologise for my disappearance yesterday,’ he said. ‘But I was not quite myself. I had to … gather my thoughts.’

  ‘That’s okay. It’s probably weird for both of us.’

  ‘I must confess I still feel out of sorts. My century has vanished. I am not so familiar with your world. It unnerves me somewhat.’

  ‘Yeah, you and me both.’

  He smiled back. He did not understand what she had said, but realised she’d spoken in the spirit of friendship.

  ‘So,’ she said.

  ‘So,’ he replied. They both smiled.

  ‘Your brother … He is upstairs? Have you told him about me?’

  ‘He’s gone to bed. He hasn’t been very well and he doesn’t believe you exist.’

  ‘Aah, of course. Nobody in their right mind would believe I exist. I am sorry to hear he has been ill. I hope he is recovering well.’

  ‘Do you really not know why he’s ill?’

  ‘Should I know?’

  ‘Oh my God!’ She shook her head in disbelief. ‘You really don’t know, do you?’ She stared at him to gauge his reaction.

  ‘Know what?’

  ‘When you were still asleep, unconscious, you drank my blood and I got ill with a fever. Then, a few weeks later, on Christmas Eve, you drank Ben’s blood and he collapsed too.’ Madison felt a flash of returning anger.

  ‘No!’ He stood up and put his hands over his mouth. ‘But I am mortified. Horrified. That was not something I did to you purposely, you must believe me. I have no recollection of this.’

  ‘That’s the reason I tried to kill you. Why I dragged you outside into the daylight.’ She hadn’t meant to blurt all this out. The last thing she wanted was to make him angry, but she couldn’t help herself. Her mouth always ran away with her. It was like some form of Tourettes, she thought to herself, the need to always tell it like it was.

  ‘Aah,’ he said. ‘It was you. I wondered how I came to be outside in the light.’ He sat down.

  ‘It was only because you … well, you hurt my brother and I couldn’t risk it happening again. I was angry, you know?’

  ‘Yes. I know. I understand why you did it. But please know I would not
ever willingly harm you or your brother. I am not an evil creature. I am not like those others.’

  ‘Others?’

  Alexandre ignored the question.

  ‘But I think the daylight revived me somehow.’

  ‘Yeah, it did. I thought you were gonna fry. But instead, you woke up.’

  ‘The best laid schemes ...’ Alexandre said. ‘Well. Thank you for reviving me, even accidentally.’

  ‘You’re welcome, I suppose. But it looked pretty painful. That sunlight doesn’t look so good for you.’

  ‘Not good at all. I thought I had descended into the fires of hell. But I believe it must have re-energised my body, shocked it back to life somehow.’

  ‘D’you think daylight would work on the others? On your brother and sister and Leonora and Freddie?’

  ‘I have been pondering on this, but until I know for sure, I cannot take the risk. It could as easily kill them as wake them.’

  ‘Fair enough.’

  ‘Your language is quite different to the English I know. There are many words and phrases I do not understand. Your words run together quickly. They blur.’

  ‘That’s ‘cos you’re a nineteenth century geezer and this is 2011. You’re gonna have to learn the language.’

  ‘Will you teach me?’

  ‘What do you want to know?’

  ‘Everything.’

  ‘That might take some time.’

  ‘It appears time is something I have an abundance of. You know, I hoped you would visit me today. I cannot tolerate daylight and so was forced to remain all day in that dingy cellar.’

  ‘Weren’t you asleep? Don’t you, like, sleep in the day and get up at night?’

  Alexandre smiled at her. ‘Well, yes, a little. But it is not the most comfortable of rooms for a nap.’

  ‘So what did you used to do during the day? Before, when you were here and you were all awake?’

  ‘Harold made our lives as comfortable as possible. He shuttered the windows which meant we could roam about the house by day without fear. Not that I am suggesting you do such a thing. I realise I am not your responsibility.’