On my knees, I scream her name.
There is not a thing I can do as I watch the car turn the corner and go out of sight.
There is a tree about six feet away, and I start crawling towards its blessed shade. As I crawl, I feel as if my skin is melting. I get to the shade and curl up. My head feels as if it is splitting, but my shoulders have taken the brunt of the damage. They feel like they are being poached. But worse, far worse than the physical pain is the unbearable agony of knowing they have her. She was so close to escape…
“My Lord,” I hear William’s voice say anxiously from above.
It is impossible for me to even open my eyes anymore. The pain is excruciating. Then I feel a big, thick blanket fall over my head and body. The friction against my burnt skin makes me shudder.
“Quickly,” he says. “Let’s get you up to the house.”
Unable to open my eyes, I allow him to lead me back to the house. Once we get indoors, he helps me up the stairs to my bedroom. He sits me on my bed.
“I will fill the bathtub with ice water,” he says.
“No,” I say. “Get me a glass of whiskey.” My skin is burning, but inside I am as cold as ice.
He goes out and comes back in a few minutes with a glass generously filled with amber liquid. I take it from him and knock it back. I give him back the glass. Our eyes meet. “How long have you known?”
“Ten years after I came to work for you,” he says quietly.
I nod. “Thank you, William.”
“Can I get you anything else?” he asks, his voice polite and unruffled.
“No.”
He leaves and I walk to my cupboard and open the doors. I press the buttons on a panel at the back of it and the secret door opens. I walk into the tiny room behind the cupboard. There is nothing there but a fridge. I open the door and pull out three pints of blood from it. Standing there, I drink it all. One by one. Cold, unappetizing blood runs down my throat and into my stomach and starts to warm my insides.
I look at my hands and already I can see my skin start to heal. The regeneration process is quite beautiful and I stare a while at the way the cells weave together. The new skin is flawless, not a mark on it to show the damage it has suffered.
When the pain in my head subsides, I walk out of the cupboard and shut the panel. There is no need to hurry anymore. That old romantic plan that she could simply slip away and never be seen again is gone, but all is not lost. True they have her, but they will not hurt her, and they need me to work the ritual. Without me it would be a shot in the dark. Something they would only attempt if I do not present myself at my father’s house.
I get dressed and go downstairs to my library. I can feel heat radiating from my stomach making me stronger and stronger. I walk towards the painting. I promised her I would not look until she was ready to show it to me. That day was today. I stand in front of it. The painting is marvelous. Superbly executed. A far cry from her painting of the castle. She’s made me beautiful, and god-like, even though she knew I was a parasite who preyed on the life force of humans.
For a long time, I stare at its terrible beauty. Then I go to my study. I write letters and I trigger the chain of events that should play out in the event of my death.
William comes in to ask if I would like lunch, but I have no hunger.
“No,” I tell him, “but come in and sit down.”
He sits opposite me and looks at me politely, as he always does. As if he had never seen me in the state I was earlier. I feel a great affection for him.
I push an envelope towards him. “I’m going out this evening and I may never come back so I want you to have this. You may continue to live here for the rest of your life as the master of the house. The household bills will be paid from a trust account and you will get a yearly income that will allow you to travel and live a leisurely life. Or you could even decide to use the check inside the envelope and live a completely different life in a different part of the world.”
“I hope you come back. I hope you come back with Miss Delaney. That is my greatest wish,” he says quietly.