Refuge by Kirsty Ferry Page B

I remember sitting in a dark room, with nothing left to my name except a few coins in my hand, wondering how I could kill myself painlessly. I wandered through the streets of London that night, intending to throw myself into the river. I saw a lady in the shadows, and decided to spend my money on her before I finished it for good. I found myself telling her what had happened. She offered me a way out – a new way of life where I could start again and would not have to rely on mortal fortune to feed me or shelter me. I was desperate. So I made my choice. I shall not go into how I recovered my money - and more - from the men I gambled with. Suffice it to say, I felt vindicated. Thus, I returned to my family estate where I live quite alone, apart from the occasional visit from a housekeeper who knows better than to ask any questions.’
                    Veva nodded. ‘I see. Then, if you advise me to wait, I shall wait. I shall wait for two hours and no longer. Tell me, Sir. How do you think we should pass the time?’
                    Montgomery stood up, that half-smile playing across his lips again. ‘I think you know the answer to that, my little wild one,’ he said and cupped her face in his hands. ‘Veva, you are perfect.’
    Veva smiled and drew closer to him as the clouds gathered in the sky and the day began to darken over the ruined chapel. ‘I think I shall let you call me Veva,’ she whispered, ‘just this once.’
    ‘And you, my love,’ he replied, ‘can call me Guy.’
    ***
    It is a myth that vampires do not rest. They sleep as most creatures do and when Montgomery awoke, it was to find Veva gone. He knew where she would have gone: and he felt no remorse over it. He smiled into the darkness; there was no need for him to linger here any longer. He would leave immediately. First, he stretched across to where his cloak lay abandoned on the ground. He felt around the inside pocket and his fingers closed over the object he sought; the silver dagger he had stolen from the girl in London, the first night of his new life. He had no idea what it was for – vaguely, he remembered, he had wondered if he would need some sort of security, just in case. Just in case the killing didn’t come easily. Just in case he didn’t succeed in reclaiming his fortune. Just in case. At least Veva hadn’t found that. She had obviously been eager to leave.
                    ‘Rest in peace, Joseph de Havilland,’ Sir Guy Montgomery murmured. ‘I’m pleased that she is the one who will do it. You deserve no less.’
    ***
    Veva didn’t quite know what drew her back to the house after she left Montgomery. She needed to be certain in her own mind. Had Will died, then? She wasn’t sure any more. She wondered what she would do if someone saw her? Well – the answer was simple. She would kill them. She crept around the outside of the house like a shadow. She wanted to look into the drawing room and remember Will, remember how he had been with her. Maybe he was still there. But now she had spent the night with Montgomery, she realised just how different her times with Will had been. She had felt more detached with Montgomery, had concentrated more on her pleasure than his. It had been very different with Will. There was a fine line, she realised, between love and hate. She had loved Will desperately, but had hated him with a passion when she pulled the trigger. Oh – so maybe he was dead? She frowned. It was easier to hate the girl than to ponder on the mechanics of the situation. Cassandra - that was what she was called. Veva felt the anger bubble up inside her as she pressed herself close to the wall and melted into the brickwork, listening for any activity inside. Her senses were alive: she buzzed with the stimulation around her, noises were magnified and her eyes saw things so much more clearly, she wondered how she had possibly managed before. She stopped suddenly, looking upwards