The Dark Proposal (The Claire McCormick Trilogy) (9 page)

“I do have a right,” he suddenly said. When her eyebrows rose,
 
he snickered. “Yes, I can read minds, one of the advantages of being what I am. And you could soon enjoy it too.”

“No,” she began to stand up. “I don’t care what you are, I don’t want to be it. And by the way you’ve been treating me, I don’t think I want to be with you anymore. You’re not the person I thought you were, Daniel. I can’t be with you, not any - “

“Claire!” He shouted. She stopped and he said more quietly, “There is no way out of this. You will join me, or you will suffer.”

He walked away from her to the kitchen., where she heard him put water in a glass. He came back to give it to her, but he barely paid attention. He had his phone out and was dialing. As she held the glass and sipped the water with a shaky hand, Daniel spoke to whoever on the phone in a language she could not decipher. It sounded like French, but not quite. But it didn’t matter to her. She was enduring a confusing nightmare and she needed to get out, if possible.

He got off the phone and watched her sip the water. “Good?”

She nodded a bit. “Great. Just to let you know, Hilde and Michel are on their way over.”

She stopped sipping, frowning. Seeing that, he said, “Those are Sarah and Michael’s real names. We all have pseudonyms for our current lives.”

Claire stared at him. She was too dazed to talk and too numb to experience anything, so she let her facial expression and thoughts communicate instead.

Getting the message, he said. “Daniel is my real name, but Bertrand is not my actual surname.” The two names were pronounced with a French emphasis. “I chose to go by Daniel because it’s a popular name again, as it was in France during the late medieval period.”

“Late medieval period,” she quietly echoed as she finished the water. She paused before going on to say, “That is why you like tapestries.”

“Indeed,” he said while taking the glass from her.

As he walked back to the kitchen to put the glass in the sink, she murmured, “How old are you?” She raised her eyebrows and shook her head. What was she saying?

“Old enough to like tapestries.” He chuckled from the kitchen. When he stepped out again, he stood over her, put his hands on his hips and said more seriously, “I was born in 1325 in Paris. I became what I am in 1348, at the age of twenty-three. You can thank Hilde and Michel for that.”

“Thank?”

“Yes. The Black Death was going on at that time, and it was only a matter of time before I would’ve been swept away by it. But those two prevented that, and I am forever grateful.” He stuck his hand out to her. “Come, get up. Can’t have you on the floor when they arrive.”

She reluctantly took his hand and stood up. “Why are they coming here? Are Anthony, Yvette, and Jessica - if those are their real names - coming too?”

“You’ll find out their real names in time. But Hilde and Michel are important to me. They are my makers. Hilde drank from me while Michel gave me his blood.” He guided her to the couch and sat her down.

Straightening her hair, he examined at her. “Please don’t look so upset. In time, you’ll realize this is all for the best.”

But Claire was in a state of shock. The man who had been professing his love for her for weeks and taking such good care of her had threatened her, yelled at her, choked her, and reveal he was some sort of supernatural, evil creature responsible for her favorite professor’s death. In her mind, she could hear Nancy’s voice going on like a broken record. How Daniel was not a nice guy. He was arrogant. Why didn’t she listen to Nancy’s warnings? Because she thought she could figure things out for herself? Because she so desperately needed to network and get help with her freelancing? Because back then Daniel seemed like a nice guy?

She directed her eyes to look at him as he pulled out his phone to check for messages. Why did she fall in love with him? Did he trick her? Was there ever a time she felt something was not right or she was doing something out of the ordinary? Sure, sleeping with him on the first date was against her rules, but that was her decision, right? Claire felt so unsure of everything, everything she had done in the last two and a half months. It all seemed like she should have known better all along, but was there any way of knowing?

There was a buzzing sound at the door. A minute later, woman’s laugh sounded from the hall, quickly followed by knocking. Daniel put his phone on the coffee table and opened the door. A broad smile spread across his face as he let in Sarah and Michael - or Hilde and Michel as he claimed they really were. They were all in a jovial mood, speaking in that peculiar French again. They also kissed him, Hilde right on his mouth, Michel on his cheek.

Turning to her, Hilde put on a wide smile and said, “Well hello, Claire! Good to see you.” Claire couldn’t tell if she was being genuinely friendly for once.

“
Mademoiselle,”
said Michel as he patted her left arm. “At last we truly meet.” Laughter went around the room, though it fell silent on the stiff Claire.

“So you told her?” Michel said to Daniel.

“Yes, I did.” he seemed satisfied with himself. “She is a bit shook up over it, though.”

“Oh of course, who wouldn’t be?” Hilde smiled. “Even you were the same way back then.”

“Yes, I remember how you tried to invoke God to strike us down, but with no luck,” Michel sat on the arm of the couch, and turned to Claire, who was hunched over in her shock.
“Is she going to be okay?” Hilde asked.

“I hope so,” Daniel said. All three were studying her as though she was not a real person. Not like a piece of meat, but not entirely human either. Was this their real selves that she had failed to notice all along? She had felt uncomfortable when she first met Hilde and Michel, but never did she suspect anything like this. Who would?

“Perhaps if we take her out for a few drinks in the Village?” Hilde suggested. When the two men looked at her incredulously, she laughed. “No, I didn’t mean like that! We’d get caught. I meant, let’s take her to a bar, loosen her up a bit.”

“We could do that,” Michel tilted his head sideways at Claire. “But I doubt she is in the mood.”

“Claire,” Daniel said tenderly, though far from the tenderness in previous times. “What would you like to do? Want to go get a drink, or…?”

Deeply inhaling and exhaling, she gathered herself as much as she could and managed to say, “I think I would like to go home. This has been too much for me.”

The three seemed surprised and they all looked at each other. Michel lifted his arms in a shrug while Hilde stuck her chin out in thought. Daniel just stood, arms folded over his chest, looking at her.

“I think it’s only fair,” Hilde finally said. “But how should we get her home without her going to the cops?”

“I’ll take her home,” Daniel spoke up. “It’s not a problem for me.”

“Are you sure?” Hilde asked.

“The ferry is not too far from here. Besides, I’ve survived until near dawn before drinking from someone.” Claire expected those last few words to make her shake all over, but all she did was raise her eyebrows slightly.

“Come on, Claire,” Daniel moved over to her and held out his hand. “Let’s get going.”

Hesitating, she looked at the other two with caution. When she finally took his hand and stood up, he ran one finger through her hair, kissed her forehead, and winked. It was like this was all a joke to him. If only it was. Maybe it really was?

Whatever the case may be, Daniel was not the same person he’d been before. Whether he was an actual vampire or a freak who thought he was, he clearly had violent tendencies and could show malice toward her. The way he had looked at her with cold eyes during the past half hour was perhaps his real self, the true colors he had kept hidden. As for his friends, Sarah, Michel, Michael - whatever their names were - they also had shown a side to them Claire never saw coming. She always thought she was a good judge of people and could spot a person’s true intentions from afar. But now, she was drowning with doubt. Doubt over her judgment, her sense of trouble coming, the man she loved, the new friends she obtained, her whole world as she knew it. What about Monica and Samantha? They deemed Daniel a nice guy several times. Weren’t they able to see a dangerous person after that many times?

The numerous thoughts rushed through her mind as she and Daniel rode a cab to the ferry terminal. They were silent, with her being the most silent of the two. She was so lost in her thoughts, one would think she was not in the cab at all. Her hands were clasped together so tightly in her lap, she couldn’t feel the tension or the cramps. She also could not feel how tightly her mouth was pursed shut, or the ache from her knitted forehead.

Even more so, she could not feel the man next to her in the backseat, his arm draped over her shoulders, the opposite hand massaging her arm. She was detached from everything around her, like an out-of-body experience. If anything was registering to her about this feeling, it told her it was like death came to her. She sometimes wondered what it was like to die, just as some people wonder. Now she knew.

Finally budging and glancing up at Daniel, who was looking out the window, she allowed herself to reflect on what he revealed to her tonight. He had darted around his apartment in mere seconds. He somehow managed to get his teeth to grow long into fangs. Those teeth were firmly in his mouth. When she pricked her finger and blood came, he sucked from her wound. The sucking was rough and she felt the blood from her veins rush out into his mouth. His eyes turned strange colors. Was this all a hallucination? Was Daniel playing some sort of game with her?

Then how did he manage to move at such inhuman speed? What about his strength that no one she ever came across seemed to possess?

And his paleness, his bizarre need to not be bothered until late in the afternoon, his strange claims to be thirty when he looked several years younger.

How could vampires be real? There was no proof or even evidence. The history books were not filled with them. There were no news reports about them. Anyone who said they did exist was considered crazy. Sure, there were people who liked to believe they were vampires for sexual and personal reasons. But they were only playing out a fantasy.

Daniel then glanced at her, smiled knowingly, and squeezed her arm. Was he reading her thoughts? He seemed to do that a few times tonight. Maybe it was a coincidence.

The cab finally came to the ferry terminal. Daniel paid the fare and guided her out of the vehicle. Arm still around her shoulders, he led her inside. He usually held her hand, so having his arm across her shoulders seemed possessive, as if he was preventing her from running away.

As they approached the slip entrance, where the ferry was to arrive in a few minutes, Claire forced herself to clear her mind and feel her body in order to say, “I think I’m going to be fine. I’ll make it home alright.”

“I know, but I’m going with you,” Daniel said in that part tender, part rough voice from earlier. “You look too upset to be on your own. I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

“I’ll be fine,” her voice cracking from anxiety. “Anyway, I thought you don’t like coming to Staten Island.”

“What?” he looked at her, his eyes wide with innocence.

Claire wanted to speak but she could not. She had forgotten what to say, like her mind drew an absolute blank. Daniel simply kissed the side of her head, and went back waiting for the slip door to open.

Although she forgot what she wanted to say, Claire was still feeling numb and the events of this night were still fresh. Over and over, she replayed Daniel baring his fangs to her. How could those things be real? She saw no wires or buttons or anything on him. And those teeth seemed quite real, forged perfectly in his mouth.

The ferry arrived and the slip door opened. Claire and Daniel followed the crowd into the boat and found a seat near the front, near the window. He made sure she was the one sitting next to the window, as if to further trap her. “You like looking out the window,” he reasoned. She decided not to protest. She was running out of strength and will.

The twenty minute ferry ride seemed to last twenty years. Claire’s wish for the trip to end soon proved futile. Daniel kept his arm around her, but his head turned away, casually watching a group of college-age kids being loud and rowdy.

Claire watched him from the corner of her eye. Was he thinking of hurting them? If he really was what he said he was, were one of those kids his next victims? Did he really drink blood to survive? But he had eaten and drank normal food in front of her whenever they ate out. No vampire does that.

But then, whenever they had sex, he insisted on having the lights off. Or rather, demanded. The one time they did with the lights on was their first time together, and even then he didn’t want her to touch him very much. He always wanted to do the work. What did that mean? She already knew he had almost pure white skin. Well, except that first time. Back then, his skin was a more normal color. By the morning, however, it was back to being white.

Claire closed her eyes, wishing she could end the madness she was experiencing. Maybe this wouldn’t last long. Maybe she would wake up tomorrow and everything would be okay. Somehow.

The ferry docked. Daniel pulled her up from her seat and directed her towards the bus stop. She didn’t need to ask or protest him coming with her. He was going to stay with her for as long as possible.

On the bus, Daniel maintained his same behavior: arm over her shoulder while looking away. Claire remained nearly hunched over, staring into space with her arms folded across her chest. Neither said a word. They looked like a couple who just had a fight.

After fifteen minutes, their stop came and they both got off. As they walked the three blocks to her home, Daniel leaned in close to her. “I’m giving you time to think about everything, that’s why I didn’t do anything to you yet. I’m letting it sink in, so you would fully understand the choice you will make.”

Claire murmured something and he asked her to say it again.

“You told me earlier if I don’t become like you, I would regret it. How is that a choice?”