Page 10 of Bitten By Mr. Darcy
“It’s all right,” he said. “No harm will come to you or your sister. And at some point, we will charm you well enough that you’ll forget all of this, but it will likely take all four of us to make it stick, and then we—”
“Charm me,” she said. “That’s when you made me forget.”
“Quite right,” he said with a small smile. “There, you can see that it is all right, for you remember what happened and that you are right as rain now, do you not?”
“I…” She shook her head. There was an element to all of the stories that she could remember, not always an overt element, but it was almost always there, nonetheless. When it came to these sort of blood-drinking demon-monster-things, they seemed to attack lovely maidens in their beds, whilst they were wearing only their nightclothes, and it was always a kind of, well,seduction. “I think you might say anything at all, sir. I don’t think I should rightly trust what you say.”
He considered. “Well, you’re intelligent and quick-witted, then, Miss Elizabeth, for there is something I’m not telling you.”
“That I’m yours,” she said, and her breath caught in her throat, and she scolded herself for the way it had come out, as if shelikedbeing his, even if she did find the idea pleasant in some awful and terrible way.
He swallowed hard, shifting on his feet. He let go of her. “You are not mine.” His voice was scratchy.
“You said that I was. You called me something, some song-thing and you—”
“Sirensong,” he said.
“Sirens?” she said. “The monsters in Greek myth that sing sailors to crash their ships into rocky shores, where they drown? I assure you, sir,Iam not a monster.”
“From time to time, vampires like me encounter a human whose scent and blood is so enticing, it drives us nearly mad,” said Mr. Darcy in that same scratchy voice.
Vampire, that was what they were called!
“But you needn’t worry, Miss Elizabeth, because I am quite capable of keeping myself in check, and the others here, they will stop me if I should…” Another swallow. His Adam’s apple was intriguing, wasn’t it? “Drink too much of you.”
She shivered. “Too much? You mean…”
“I shan’t harm you. I promise.”
She blinked at him. “You said it drives you mad.Canyou promise?”
“I can.” He was insistent. “Come back in and sit with your sister.”
“But what happens to us?” She shook her head. “Are you going to… feed on us, as if we’re animals or something? Is that what’s going to happen?”
He swallowed one more time, and she decided that his neck, his throat, his broad shoulders were likely the most interesting thing she’d ever seen. She wasn’t used to being this close to a man, in all truth, especially not one as handsome as Mr. Darcy, but that all made sense, she supposed, because he was some sort of monster, the kind of monster that looks fair to conceal his foulness. She could not trust anything about this man, or… this not-man as it happened. She could not trust him and she must not be enticed by him. He licked his lips. “Miss Elizabeth, you have been tasted, and so you know that it is not unpleasant to be… fed upon.”
“That doesn’t mean anything,” she said, a breathless sort of protest. Why wasn’t she able to summon anger? Why were they standing about outside the sitting room having a measured conversation about whether it was all right to drink her blood? To drink her sister’s blood?
“I think it does. It would be one thing if it were agony for you, but it is not,” he said.
“But it is against our will. You can’t simply take things from people without their permission.”
“Even if they enjoy the taking? Even if they don’t remember it happening? Even if it doesn’t harm them? Even if I happen to need it to stay alive?”
Her jaw worked. “Is it going to be all of you?”
“I promise, Miss Elizabeth, you will forget this.”
“I don’t wish to forget it!” Her lower lip trembled. “Let us go.”
Mr. Darcy looked into the sitting room, where the card game seemed to have been abandoned. Elizabeth was horrified to see that Louisa’s mouth was attached to Mr. Hurst’s neck, his cravat untied. Mr. Hurst didn’t look the least bit displeased, either. His eyes were closed and his lips were parted, and the expression on his face looked like sheer bliss, in fact.
Mr. Bingley was gazing at Jane, a strange sort of look in his eye.
“Mr. Bingley cannot marry my sister,” said Elizabeth.
“Well, he could,” said Mr. Darcy. “But I shan’t let that happen, do not worry. Your sister is too good and sweet to be drawn down into the darkness with the likes of us.”
