The Vampyre (38 page)

‘My face froze, while Lovelace's grin broadened. “Why, I thought he must have informed you last night. Did he not?” And then he laughed, and I pushed the table over in my fury, and screamed at him to leave me alone. Lovelace did so, a smile still playing on his lips. I ordered my servants to cross the lagoon, to visit Shelley's home, to make certain - absolutely certain - that he was not still there. But even as they left, I knew that Lovelace had been telling the truth - Shelley had fled me. For several weeks, I was plunged into despair. I knew how close he had been to becoming mine. This realisation, which for a long while was a torment, at last grew to comfort me. He would come back. He wouldn't be able to stay away. He had so nearly fallen - surely now I had only to wait?

‘And yet even as I reawoke from my despair, I found my longing for companionship unappeased. My love affair with Venice was coming to an end. Its pleasures bored me - I knew now for certain that I was beyond the reach of human delights - I needed something more. Blood thrilled me as it had always done, but even my hunting now began to seem dull, and Lovelace in particular sickened me. I knew that his glee over Shelley's departure had been an expression of his jealousy, but even understanding that, I found it hard to forgive him, and I deliberately avoided his company. I began to be haunted in my dreams by Haidée again, so vividly that I sometimes thought of leaving Venice for Greece. But Haidée was dead - I was alone - what point was there? I stayed where I was. My misery grew worse. The other vampires seemed afraid of me.

‘It was Marianna who best understood my loneliness. This surprised me, though it should not have done, for the cruel rely for the subtlest pleasures upon their sensitivities. She asked about Shelley. I told her, in a mood of self-mockery at first, then, recognising her sympathy, with truthfulness. “Wait,” she advised. “He will come. It is best if the mortal desires the Gift. You remember what happened with Polidori.”

‘“Yes.” I nodded. “Yes.” I could not risk turning Shelley's mind. But I had known that already . . .

‘“And in the meantime,” Marianna smiled at me, “we must find you another companion.”

‘I laughed derisively. “Oh yes, Contessa, of course.” I glanced at her. “Who?”

‘“A mortal.”

‘“I will destroy her mind.”

‘“I have a daughter.”

‘I looked at her in surprise. “And you haven't drained her?”

‘Marianna shook her head. “I had promised her to the Count Guiccioli. Do you remember him? You met him in Milan.”

‘I nodded. He had been among the vampires who had come to pay their respects to me. A shrivelled, evil old man with greedy eyes. “Why to him?”

‘“He wanted a wife.”

‘I frowned.

‘“Do you not know?” Marianna asked. “The children of our kind are highly prized. They can endure the love of a vampire, and not be driven mad by it.” She paused. “Teresa is only nineteen.”

‘I smiled slowly. “And married to the Count Guiccioli, you say?”

‘Marianna stretched out her fingers, as though her nails were claws. “It will, of course, be a privilege for him,
milord
, to surrender up his bride to you.”

‘I smiled again. I kissed Marianna long on her lips. “Of course it will,” I murmured. “Of course it will.” I paused. “See to it, Contessa.” And Marianna did.

‘The Count, of course, was not happy at all - but what did I care? - wasn't I his Emperor? I ordered him to bring Teresa to a masque. He did so, and introduced me to her. I was enchanted. She was voluptuous and fresh, with plump, full breasts and rich auburn hair. There was something of Augusta in her. Her eyes melted when I looked at her, but though she could not resist my spell, she did not seem disturbed or unsettled by her passion. “I'll have her,” I whispered to the Count. He grimaced, but bowed his head in mute acceptance. I let him live with us for the first few months, but after a while, I found him cramping, and I ordered him away.

‘Teresa was delighted. If she had been in love before, she was besotted now. “A Peer of England, and its greatest poet - my lover!” She would kiss me, then clap her hands with delight. “Byron,
caro mio
! You are like a god of the Greeks! Oh Byron, Byron, I will love you for ever! Your beauty is sweeter than my sweetest dreams!” I was fond of her as well. She had restored to me a portion of my past. We left Venice, that vampire city, behind. We moved instead to a palace near Ravenna.

‘I was happy there - happier than I had been since the hour of my fall. I lived almost as a mortal. I had to prey, of course, but Teresa, if she suspected my habits, did not seem to care - she was cheerfully immoral in everything. I watched her carefully for signs of madness or decline, but she continued the same - impulsive, beautiful, fascinating - adoring me, and adorable. I tried, as far as I could, to banish all reminders of my vampire state. Allegra, whom I had brought with us from Venice, was growing older now. Her blood was sweeter and more tempting every day. In the end, I sent her to a convent. Otherwise, I would have killed her, for I couldn't have held out against her blood much longer. I hoped I would never need to see her again. Haidée too, or rather her ghost in my dreams, I attempted to banish. Ravenna, at this time, was near revolution. The Italians, like the Greeks, dreamed of liberty. I supported them with money and my influence. I dedicated my part in this struggle to Haidée - to her passion for freedom - to the first and greatest love of my life. My dreams of her began to fade, and when she did visit me, the reproach in her eyes seemed less full of pain. I began to feel free.

‘And it was in such a spirit, as the year went by, that I waited for Shelley. I knew he would come. He wrote to me sometimes. He would speak of vague schemes, of utopias, of communities that he and I could form. He never mentioned that last night in Venice, but I could sense, unspoken in his letters, his yearning for what I had offered him then. Yes, I was confident - he would come. In the meantime, though, I lived with Teresa alone. We had little contact with either vampire or man. Instead, I filled our house with animals - dogs and cats, horses, monkeys, peacocks and guinea hens, an Egyptian crane - living creatures, whose blood, I found, no longer tempted me.' Lord Byron paused and glanced round the room. ‘You will have seen for yourself that I still like to keep such pets.' He reached down to stroke his sleeping dog's head. ‘I was happy,' he said, ‘in that palace with Teresa, as happy as I had been since the day of my fall.' Lord Byron nodded and frowned with surprise. ‘Yes' - he frowned again - ‘I was almost happy.'

He paused. ‘And then one evening,' he said at last, ‘I heard Teresa scream.' He paused a second time, as though the memory unsettled him. He drank from his wine. ‘I reached for my pistols. I hurried to Teresa's room. The dogs on the stairway were barking with fright, and the birds were flapping against the walls.

‘“Byron!” Teresa ran out to me. She clasped her breast. A wound, very thin and delicate, had been slashed across the skin.

‘“Who was it?” I asked.

‘She shook her head. “I was asleep,” she murmured between her sobs. I walked into her room. At once I smelt the vampire scent. But there was something else as well, much sharper in the air. I breathed it in and frowned. There was no mistaking the smell. It was acid.'

‘Acid?' Despite herself, Rebecca leaned forwards in her chair.

Lord Byron smiled at her. ‘Yes.' His smile faded. ‘Acid. The letter came the following week. It claimed that Polidori was dead. Suicide. He had been found, seemingly lifeless, his dead daughter beside him and a half-empty bottle of chemicals by his side. Prussic acid, to be precise. I read the letter through a second time. I tore it up and threw it on the ground. As I did so, I smelled the bitter tang again.

‘I turned round. Polidori was watching me. He looked vile - his skin was greasy, his mouth lolled open wide. “It's been a long time,” he said. As he spoke, the stench made me turn away.

‘He smiled horribly. “I do apologise for my unpleasant breath.” Then he peered at me and frowned. “But you don't look too well yourself. Getting old. Not quite so beautiful now,
My Lord
.” He paused, and his face twitched. “Little daughter still not killed yet, then?”

‘I stared at him with hatred. He lowered his gaze. Even now, he was my creature, and I his lord. Polidori staggered back. He gnawed at his knuckles, staring with his bulbous eyes down at my feet. Then he shuddered and giggled. “I killed
my
daughter,” he said.

‘He began to shake. I watched him, then I reached out to touch his hand. It was sticky and cold. Polidori let me take it. “When?” I asked.

‘His face was suddenly twisted by grief. “I couldn't fight it,” he said. “You never told me. No one ever did. I couldn't fight it, not the calling of the blood.” He giggled and bit on his knuckles again. “I tried to stop myself. I tried to kill myself. I drank poison, My Lord, half a bottle of the stuff. It had no effect, of course. And then I had to kill
her
- my little girl” - he chuckled - “my
sweet
little girl. And now” - he breathed in my face - “I will always have this poison in my mouth. Always!” He screamed suddenly, “
Always!
You never told me, My Lord - you never said - but thank you - thank you - I have found out for myself -
you stay as you are when you drink the golden blood.
”

‘I felt pity for him, yes, of course I did. Who better was there to understand his pain? But I hated him as well - hated him as much as I have hated anything. I gave him my hand a second time - tried to calm him - but he stared at it wildly, then spat at it. I flinched - instinctively, I reached for my pistol - I placed it under Polidori's chin. But he laughed. “You can't harm me now, My Lord! Haven't you heard - I am officially dead!”

‘He giggled and spluttered. I waited until he was silent again. Then I smiled coldly, and pushed him back with the pistol barrel. He fell against the wall. I stood over him. “You always were ridiculous,” I whispered. “Do you still dare to challenge me? Look at the thing you are now, and learn restraint. I could make your condition, wretched as it is, much worse by far” - I stabbed into his mind, so that he screamed with pain - “much worse. I am your creator. I am your Emperor.” I lowered my pistol, and took a step back. “Do not provoke me again, Doctor Polidori.”

‘“I have power too,” he stammered. “I am a thing like you now, My Lord.”

‘The sight of him, his bulbous eyes staring, his mouth hanging wide, made me laugh. I slipped my pistol back into my belt. “Go away,” I said.

‘Polidori stayed frozen. Then he shuddered, and began to mutter to himself. He reached up for my hands. “Care for me,” he whispered. “Care for me. You are right - I am your creature now. Show me what that means. Show me what I am.”

‘I stared at him. For a moment, I hesitated. Then I shook my head. “You must steer your own course,” I told him. “We are all lonely, we who wander the Ocean of Time.”

‘“
Lonely?
” His cry was unexpected and terrible - a shriek, a sob, an animal sound. It froze my blood. “Lonely?” Polidori said again. He started to laugh uncontrollably. He choked, then spluttered, and stared at me with burning hate. “I do have power,” he said suddenly. “You believe yourself miserable, but I can make you so wretched that even the gleam of the moon will be hateful to you.” He leered horribly, and wiped at his mouth. “I have already fed on the blood of your whore.”

‘I took him by the throat. I held him close to my face. Again I stabbed deep into the whorls of his brain, until he screamed with mindless agony, and still I stabbed, and still he screamed. I dropped him at last. He wept, and whimpered and grovelled at my feet. I stared at him with contempt. “Touch Teresa, and I will destroy you,” I said. “Do you understand?”

‘Polidori spluttered something, then nodded.

‘I held him by his hair. Like his skin, it was sticky and greasy to the touch. “I will destroy you, Polidori.”

‘He snivelled. “I understand,” he said at last.

‘“What do you understand?”

‘“I will not” - he sniffed - “I will not . . . I will not kill those you love,” he sniffed at last.

‘“Good,” I whispered. “Keep your word. And then - who knows? - I may grow to love even you.” I dragged him to the stairway. I pushed him. He bumped and clattered down the steps, startling a flock of guinea fowl. I returned to my balcony. I watched Polidori leave across the fields. That evening, I rode along the boundaries of the palace estate, but there was no scent of him - he was gone. I wasn't surprised - I had instilled a terrible fear in him - I doubted he would return. But I warned Teresa, all the same, to beware the smell of chemicals.

‘And it was not only Teresa I was worried for now. Shelley had just written to me, proposing vaguely that we meet - I wrote back at once, inviting him to stay, and to my surprise, one night, he arrived at my gates. I had not seen him for three years. I kissed him on the side of the neck and bit him gently, drawing blood. Shelley tensed - then held my cheeks - and laughed with delight. We stayed up, as we always did, late into the night. Shelley was full of his usual talk - wild schemes and utopias - impious jokes - visions of liberty and revolution. But I began to grow impatient - I knew why he had really come. The clock chimed four. I crossed to the balcony. Fresh air cooled my face. I turned back to Shelley. “Do you know what I am?” I asked.

‘“You are a mighty and troubled spirit,” he replied.

‘“What I have - my powers - I can give them to you.”