FULL NOVELXO Chapter Viola's Capable Hands
Darius
My hand tightens around Viola, drawing her nearer. I crave her closeness, a yearning for our souls to entwine, our bodies merging into one. Her warm, soft form and the scent of jasmine and sea fill my senses, infusing me with renewed vitality. The circumstances that led her to rush into my embrace pain me to consider, yet now that she’s here, all her suffering seems to have vanished into thin air.
“What happened that sent you running to me like this?” I inhale her intoxicating scent once more, utterly captivated and unable to resist.
“I hardly know. I just needed to be near you,” Viola murmurs into my chest.
The proud beast within stirs, strengthened by her confession.
“I met another Vampyre today,” she adds quietly, far too flippantly for my liking.
If my heart could beat, it would have stopped at that moment. I pull Viola back to look at her, inspecting both sides of her neck for marks, finding none. I check her wrists, finding them unblemished.
“He didn’t feed off me. He said I reeked of rotten flesh,” she says, trying to comfort me.
I peer into Viola’s good eye, trying to grasp the meaning behind her words. “Rotten flesh?”
Viola nods. “Yes. He’s the one who bit the printer’s daughter, trying to turn her into a Vampyre.”
Viola’s gentle smile at the thought of this other Vampyre awakens a profound jealousy within me. Once I rid myself of William, I’ll have to address this meddlesome Vampyre who dares to orbit around Viola.
Vampyres never assist each other out of kindness. My kind are the most selfish of creatures, always acting in their own self-interest—we view ourselves as superior to all other supernatural beings, feeding off each other’s egos. I despise being in their company—their lack of humanity is infectious, and I’ve invested too much in maintaining my own.
The very few like-minded Vampyres I’ve met who still try to live among mortals are overly protective of any human we might bond with—their lives are so fleeting and delicate that we like to keep them close, especially if they cannot be turned. If this Vampyre was trying to turn the printer’s daughter, then she would be his main focus, motivation, and weakness.
If this Vampyre chooses to aid Viola in any way, he will more than likely expect some form of payment—nothing in my world is free.
“Where does one find nitric acid?” Viola suddenly asks.
Her unexpected question causes me to laugh a little too loudly, and she pouts at me before examining the silver cuff tightly shackling my wrist.
“They require a key,” I inform her.
“Do you know where it is?” Viola inspects the other wrist, finding it identical to the first.
I nod. “I do.”
Viola looks up at me expectantly, hope flickering across her face.
“William melted them down. The only way out is to cut off my hands, but I wouldn’t be able to heal myself in this state.”
“Oh,” Viola murmurs, turning my hand over in hers.
They don’t look like my hands—the foreign, grey, dry, wrinkled skin that covers them disgusts even me.
The sound of a vehicle nearing the house snaps me back into reality. I shift my focus to the windows, listening closely to the sound—it’s not a car I recognize. Has William returned early?
“What is it?” Viola asks quietly.
I cup her face, locking eyes with her. “You need to open the curtains and leave. There’s a car approaching, and I can’t discern who’s inside. It might be William.”
Viola stiffens, but surprisingly, there’s no fear in her eyes—only anger.
“Remember what I told you. Don’t let your anger lead you into foolishness. Go,” I tell her reluctantly.
Viola nods before swiftly moving from window to window, pulling back the long velvet curtains. Lacking the strength to lift my wings, I close my eyes as the sunlight floods into the room. Viola’s heart beats rapidly as she opens the last curtain and heads toward the door.
She glances back at me over her shoulder. “I’m sorry, Darius. It pains me to leave you like this.”
“Hurry, Viola. And don’t forget to wash your eye.”
I listen to her every hurried move as she locks the door to the passage and rushes through the house.
I miss her already. Having her soft, warm body pressed against mine filled me with a warmth deep inside that I hadn’t felt in years—a different type of hunger, one that had never found satisfaction. Somehow, after her kiss, the sun beating down on me doesn’t feel all that bad.
The best part about Viola’s kiss is knowing she did it of her own accord. Whatever this connection is between us, this intertwining of our souls—it’s real, and she feels it, too. In this state, whatever magic I have that attracts and seduces women and prey alike is nonexistent. I’ve never been in a situation where someone, regardless of my appearance, has been attracted to me without the influence of my aura. Even as a human, it was my duty to find a wife eventually, but I never got around to it. After my transformation, I never trusted any woman’s feelings because I could never be sure if they genuinely loved me or if the magic compelled them to feel that way.
I hear the splashing of water from the powder room Viola ran into.
“Oh, Darius, it did help. Thank you,” Viola whispers, and I can almost hear the smile in her voice from here.
Viola’s feet hurry to the drawing room, where she sits and starts to flick through the pages of a book.
“Oh fuck,” she says, trying to catch her breath, “I am not a runner.”
Viola lets out a long exhale and begins to mutter the words of whatever book she’s reading—she’s starting the Vampyre novel from the beginning.
“I’ll read aloud from now on for your amusement, Darius. I can’t imagine how boring it must be in there for you,” Viola adds between paragraphs.
When the car’s occupants finally emerge, I’m a little confused by what I hear. The heartbeat of one of the passengers flutters so quickly that, for a moment, it confuses me. It’s been years since a child has walked these grounds. No doubt, what I’m hearing is the small heart and tiny footsteps of a toddler trying to keep up with their guardian, and Mrs. Norris confirms it.
“Hello, Master Elliott,” she says warmly to the young boy. “My name is Mrs. Norris. Come take my hand, I will take you to your new mother.”
It turns out not to be William, after all. After exchanging a few polite words with the chaperone who escorted Elliott here, Mrs. Norris leads him to the drawing room. I don’t know if this boy is Emily’s son—William could be sewing seeds all over to create a little army of Lord Vampyre Hunters. It honestly wouldn’t surprise me if he were breeding simply to see little versions of himself growing up in the world—he’s a narcissist.
Mrs. Norris, who is normally always on the go at a quick pace, isn’t rushing Elliott and walks at his pace.
“This way, little master,” she encourages him warmly.
Maybe she’s not so bad after all. I follow their movements until Mrs. Norris enters the drawing room with Elliott.
“Oh, my goodness!” I hear Viola exclaim when they approach her. She pockets her books and rushes over to Elliott. “What is your name, little one?”
When Elliott doesn’t speak, Mrs. Norris answers for him. “His name is Elliott. Elliott William Spencer.”
“Elliott William Spencer. That sure is a lot of L’s, Elliott. Are you collecting them?” Viola sighs, “Well, if your eyes are anything to go by, then they are most definitely those of your mother and not your father.”
Viola’s words hit me right in the heart—they were said for me to hear. Elliott is Emily’s son and my blood relation.
First Viola, and now Elliott, under the same roof. Now, I have two people I need to survive this torment for. This complicates things—we must ensure his safety and take him with us.
I listen as Viola makes an effort to make Elliott feel comfortable. She speaks to him in such a warm, respectful, and nurturing tone that I suddenly start to imagine what she would be like as a mother. From what I’m hearing, she’s a natural caregiver. However, if I had my selfish way and got to have Viola for myself, we would never be able to conceive any children together.
My body is dead, kept alive by a magic force that I myself can’t even comprehend. I have heard of a few instances where a male Vampyre was able to impregnate a human female, but after nearly 250 years, those stories are too few to be reliable.
If we escape, I should leave Viola to live a normal life. Living a life like mine, with no real purpose except to prolong eternity by drinking human blood, isn’t exactly a happy one. A life with Viola by my side would be a happy one—her kiss alone is almost enough to bring me back to life.
At this point, I have no choice in any matter whatsoever. The only choice I have before me is to place my life in Viola’s capable hands.