A Taste Of A Vampire

There was something about him that seemed to draw her to him; something that she couldn’t quite put her finger on. Something that made her feel like a magnet, drawn to him with no resistance at all. It felt like there was so much about him that she didn’t understand and at the same time that she understood him perfectly. She couldn’t believe that she had only known him a week. The time that she had spent with him seemed much longer, almost infinite, and it felt like beyond that it couldn’t be measured.

Jill emailed her back a few hours later and she read quickly through the words. Her boss told her to take all the time that she needed and come back when she was able to. The work she was doing was being taken care of, and there was nothing to worry about and nothing that needed her attention. Claire was grateful for that and told Jill so, thanking her for the update. She told her boss that she would be home as soon as she got the estate taken care of.

A few hours later, Claire was sitting with a book in the main library on the first floor, her back against the cushioned arm of a chaise lounge beside a tall and wide window overlooking the garden and grounds.

She had read the same page in the book several times, though she hadn’t retained even one word that was printed on it. Nothing was sticking in her mind at all, except Nicholas. It was as though the more she tried to push him from her mind, the more difficult it was to keep him from her mind. It was like a starving person eating endless amounts of food and the more the person ate, the hungrier the person got.

Finally, she closed the book with a sharp snap and swung her legs down to the floor. She told herself that there had to be something that she could do to get him off her mind, but as she went to the bookshelf and slid the book back into its place, she realized that there was only one thing she could do.

She had to find out more about him. She had to solve the mystery of him. If she didn’t, she was never going to get him out of her system, and he couldn’t stay in her system because in a week she would be leaving to go back to New York, and then she’d never see him again. She couldn’t wonder about him for the rest of her life. She couldn’t just let go of all the arresting thoughts and feelings that were tethering themselves to her. She had to find the answers. She had to discover enough about him that she wouldn’t wonder anymore, and the magnetic draw to him would be broken. She knew it was the only way.

Claire pulled the Jaguar out of the garage and drove it carefully down the same road that Nicholas had taken her on. She was going to his home. There would be answers. There had to be.

A short while later, she turned into the drive that led from the small country road to his palatial home. She wound through the wild grown grounds and pulled up to his home. It looked exactly as it did the last time that she was there.

She turned the car off and went to the door, knocking tentatively. There was no answer. She wondered if he was home. She knocked a second time and looked for a doorbell. There wasn’t one.

There was still no answer.

Chewing gently on her lower lip, she reached her hand to the doorknob and tested it, giving it the slightest turn. Her heart began to pound in her chest and she wondered if she should be doing what she was doing, but a greater part of her went straight forward and did it.

The knob twisted in her hand and the door swung open slowly, almost of its own accord, creaking quietly. She peered into the grand foyer and looked around to see if she could see the butler; the only staff living at the house. There was no one.

Claire called out, “Hello?” There was no answer.

Her conscience screamed at her to turn back and forget what she was doing, but the impulse in her to go forward overpowered it. She stepped inside and looked around, calling out once again. Her voice echoed down the halls and up the stairs, and there was no response to it; only silence answered her in return.

She closed the door behind her and began to wander through some of the rooms. When she had gone to visit the home with Nicholas, they hadn’t spent too much time in any particular room, and being able to see them all on her own in her own time gave her more bravery. She poked around at curious things more than she would have if Nicholas had been home. She explored and touched and wondered at all of it.

Nearly everything in the home was extremely old, but in excellent condition as if time had barely touched it, and every inch of the home and all that was in it was spotlessly clean. She felt almost as if she was walking through a private museum. In a way, she knew she was. There were pieces that he owned that might not be held by any other museum in the world, and she was aware of it. Most of what he owned was priceless, or close to it. There were original artworks by renaissance art masters, there were weapons, books, furniture, warrior costumes, and countless other things that were carefully set about on shelves and tables, tucked away in cabinets and cases, and she wondered at all of it.

It was obvious that the Ryder family was wealthy and had been for centuries. It was obvious that they had been successful, well-traveled, well-educated, and devoted lovers of the arts. She felt that Nicholas represented that well in who he was: in his manner and speech, in his behavior, and in his actions. She began to realize that that was part of what drew her to him so strongly.

Claire was a little surprised that neither Nicholas nor his butler came to her at any point while she was exploring, but she continued on. She found her way to the kitchen and wasn’t surprised that it was in pristine condition, but as she opened cupboards and pantry doors, she began to notice something very strange. There was no food in the kitchen at all, save for one shelf and one small refrigerator that had only a few things in it; perhaps enough for a single person.

She knew that it was just Nicholas and his butler, but she was still certain that there should have been far more in the kitchen than what she had found. Frowning, she moved on to other rooms and when most of the first floor was behind her, she turned her attention to the stairs leading up to the second floor.