A hush fell on the room, it may not have been the most opportune moment but Heather hated the silence. There was too much of it now. "Dracula was misunderstood," She blurted out. "I mean the book just as much as the character. It really was a romance. So much the same for a lot of those gothic pieces." She looked around hoping she still had their attention. "This story, may not be a classic but it there are definitely misunderstandings at play..." I took a deep breath and continued...

THE WORLD IS A COLD DARK PLACE CAST IN SHADOWS

By @h_coyle

The spiced aroma of Pimm filled the air. The treat blushed cheeks as they moved about the room, draping themselves across one another. They moved about the dance, their skirts full blooms floating above the floor never touching. Movements ticked in unison.

"Is it not grand?" Her voice a soft honey flitting through the air falling softly on his ears. Aster highlighted in the crowd that surrounded them. Her lilac gown caressed her nearly translucent skin.

"The galliard? The candles? The drink?" Harding let the dark liquid swirl across the rim of his glass before lifting it to his lips. He leaned back allowing the wall to catch him. Harding did nothing to hide his cursory exam of the young woman. Her eyes never straying from all that beheld her.

"All of it!" She exclaimed smiling, "an elegance for the souls."

"It is my first ball," She bowed her head, blushing as she averted her iris eyes. Blond curls fell forward, hiding her face from view.

Harding let a smirk tug at his lips. Next to him she seemed minute in comparison. It was hardly a difficult feat considering he stood a head taller than most men he encountered.

"Gentleman do not mock." Her lashes fanned over her eyes as she pulled her arms tight over her body in a protective manner. The act left him feeling vulnerable as if he were a wolf to shy from.

"This one does, but only a little. Trust me, when you have been to as many parties as I, they lose their luster." Harding reached out to grab another glass from a passing servant, in doing so he took note of a young man that appeared to have interest, in their conversation.

He stood across the room trying to be inconspicuous, his blue eyes steeled with that of jealousy and concern. His perfectly square jaw tightened as Harding offered him a brandished wave.

To the young woman, the exchange went unnoticed.

"Then truly I pity you." There was an innocence to the insult as if her words did not intend to pierce the skin. Silence fell between them. Harding basked in the world growing to nothing but a buzz in the background. There was the clanging of glasses, a string on the harp breaking causing the melody to run off, the fall of feet about them.

The room smelled of bodies – heavy musk, citrus overtures, and florals.

The conversation flitted along the mundane falling on items Harding found to be trifle or irrelevant, yet it was the chasteness that pushed the words that held his interest. A flame against the reality of the landscape.

"Harding. Harding Mortifer." He pulled the glove from his hand, extending it outward for the young beauty to take. He let the charm rise to his eyes when she seemed hesitant at the initial offer.

"Rue," her hand slid into his, a gasp escaped her lips at the touch but she met his gaze and did not pull back.

The individual approaching was agile and moved with urgency.

"Deacon Aldred," A tight hand clasped itself around Harding's shoulder. He could feel the pierce of scrutiny land squarely where his heart should be. "I see that you have found my ward. "Harding felt the eyes move off of him and land on Rue across from him. The dynamics altered and the free little bird retreated. Somehow the lilac of her dress seemed to dull.

"Apologies Sir, pleasure to make your acquaintance." Harding spun to meet the man standing behind him. The Deacon was the human embodiment of what Harding imagined a spider would be. Long spindly legs and arms, the nails on his hands well-kept to a long point. His nose came out as a long and arched peak. Black eyes, the narrowing of a pupil, stared out at him through thick glasses.

He did nothing to hide his distaste for the young man or his disinterest.

"And an acquaintance is all you shall remain." Aldred reached across the space and took Rue's hand in his own. She allowed the older man to pull her from the conversation and away from the party.

It was now the turn of the young man from across the room to appear smug.

"Dear brother, what troubles shall you get yourself into?" Kaige emerged, a puff of smoke trailed in his wake. Chestnut blond hair fell in waves to his shoulders, emerald eyes peered out against high cheekbones and a strong nose. The eyes of both men and women in the room followed Kaige as he moved in long confident strides, ever aware of their gazes.

Harding simply smiled back.

***

It was another of Lenore's pet projects. First, an evening to invite and acclimate oneself into the patrician, and now infusing life into a derelict property.

Molded images of proud stags on a backdrop of a once rich burgundy peeled off the walls. The edges were dried and tattered, disintegrating at the touch. The floor boards that still remained creaked under pressure threatening to give way to dust. A damp musk filled the air with soft notes of feces and decaying vermin. Among the defunct, the furniture stood tall and proud, refusing to bend to the ravages succumbing the dwelling.

"It has a certain charm don't you think?" Lenore crossed the room maneuvering her body to avoid pitching through the various holes in the floor, her movements were enchanting and elegant. The length of her arms extended to the delicate points of her fingers, her feet flourished in long graceful glides. Her back arched and chest rose in time with the silent melody that played through all their minds.

The spell was broken the moment a curtain rod clattered to the ground and the drapes tumbled in a heap. Dust clouds swirled in the air, forcing the trio to a hasty retreat and shielding their eyes.

"Our definition of charm is evidently not aligned." Harding brushed the dust from his lapel.

"Harding, won't you just give it a try for your precious mother?" Lenore pouted her red lips, their darkness standing fierce against the white of her flesh. It was not lost on Lenore of her pleasing qualities, nor was the art of Machiavelli. Her raven locks were assembled in loose waves pinned at the back of her head accentuating her cheekbones and the green of her eyes.

"It smells like piss and death. I like it!" Kaige clapped a hand on Harding's shoulder, stepping squarely into the grand room. His left hand pushed his hair from his face and offered his right to Lenore. Her hand extended from her dainty wrist taking his. Kaige twirled, towering over his mother who smiled, her mind absent of all life's cares.

"Of honeyed adulation my dear brother is," Harding chuckled and yet the sound did not ring true.

"I have no intention of living here mother," Harding let his voice carry over the music that played for Lenore and Kaige.

"Nor do I. We shall see this place grow. It will be a place to work. Establish the deliveries. Nothing more." She called in response.

Mother and son continued to pirouette, missing the gaping holes with each step.

***

Over the following months, they worked to bring Lenore's aspirations to fruition.

Lenore scurried about the room, her movements giving off the illusion that she was contributing to the efforts. Her face glowed as she reached her stride. People moved about the room, picking things up from one place and depositing them in the next. Vividly patterned furniture and elaborate fabrics swirled against the freshly stained wood.

"Is it not grand!" She exclaimed, the eye of the squall, excited at the progress.

"As long as you are happy mother. It is indeed splendid." Harding forced himself to smile.

They stood still as the space moved around them. Dust collected and dispersed giving new life into the world. The structure took a breath and transformed into the place his mother had always envisioned.

It was then that Harding actually saw it. "Now it is grand, mother."

***

Lenore had insisted on putting their new abode on display, gathering a select few to show off the fruit of their labor. In particular, she had a wish to meet the woman that had captured Harding's focus.

"Where is it that you take me?" Rue strolled along the cobblestone, her arm linked into the crook of his own. Her golden curls smelled of lavender and juniper.

"To a place, I believe you will find most interesting," Harding smiled down at the petite woman.

"I fear your plans may be wicked." She swatted at his arm playfully before her eyes moved back to the street. Harding longed for her to look at him the way she smiled at the birds singing on the branch above or to the flowers in a nearby garden.

"Perhaps. But just a little."

Rue had agreed for the outing if her nanny, Courtice, could accompany. She tagged along behind them, uncomfortable and unsure of each step.

"How much further Miss? Master Aldred will want you back in time for dinner." Courtice raised her hand when she spoke, standing on the tips of her dirt plain shoes as if asking for permission.

Harding tried to catch the nervous woman's eyes as he spoke. "He will be joining us. Lenore, my mother, invited him."

"He agreed?" A shared glance between both young women.

"She is a forceful one." Harding's simper widened.

"Is this our destination?" Rue looked up at the brick building in amazement.

Lenore had lined the cobblestone pathway with lilies on either side. The white plucked out of the dark stone. The front door stood tall and proud, as welcoming as a lion. The light did not find its way in through the windows as the house sat back far off the street with heavy trees marking the front yard. The willows wept upon seeing them.

"I thought it untended?" Rue turned to Harding questioning.

"It reminded Lenore of home. It pained her to see it in such a state, it was an adoption of sorts." Harding examined the edifice.

"I have been to your home, though." Rue appeared to be puzzled. She stared at Courtice hoping to find an answer in the quiet maiden.

"Yes. This is our place of business." Harding started to find the questions to be tedious, so he ushered the young woman through the front door. The house smelled of dinner, it rolled out onto the street behind them, inviting the world in.

A shadow moved across the wall striking as they entered.

"Master Aldred," the nanny bowed her head and sunk into the shadows near the door. She would have moved into the walls had she been able to.

"You may leave Courtice. Thank you for seeing Miss Rue here safely." The remark traipsed off his pointed nose and hit Harding squarely in the chest.

"Deacon, nothing would have come to her in my keep. Should I have someone see Miss Courtice home? If the streets truly are unsafe..." Harding's words slapped at the cheek.

"Thank you, Master Harding. Do not worry, I will make my way safe." Courtice's hand trembled as she reached for the doorknob. It fumbled between her fingers, and before Harding could reach to assist, the door was slammed.

"This is a wonderful space Mrs. Mortifer." Rue crossed the space curing the tension.

"Please dear, call me Lenore. Let us show you the place."

Lenore makes a grand effort of pointing out the details in the wood carvings, and the feel of the curtains as she moves room from room. The procession follows with her sons in the rear.

They stopped at a door. Grand in scale it towered before them nearly reaching to the ceiling and expanding the width of the wall. It sat on a heavy metal frame five inches thick. The door itself was a solid wood, stained a hue of red. Etched within was a series of engravings. The pictures melded to letters that formed a language neither guest could speak. Copper weaved through in a pattern pulling the images together. Aldred reached forward, his fingers dancing gently on the surface. Steam rose.

"Would you like to know what is behind that door?" Lenore's question was posed with the same tone as if she asked if her guests would like a glass of wine.

"I do not believe I do." Rue's words flowed from her mouth with bravery. Harding took in the lovely little bird as she stood her ground.

There was something cruel to Lenore's simple nature. "There is no dinner dear. I fear we have brought you here under false pretenses."

"What is it that you want?' Aldred did nothing to hide the smell of fear that flowed off him.

"Her." Lenore pointed a long finger in the direction of Rue.

Aldred's eyes followed her finger but could not bring himself to look at the young woman. "If I leave with my life. She is yours."

Kaige glided forward putting his hand on the Deacon's shoulder. The man shook, trembling under the gentle touch before turning and fleeing from the home.

"You are going to kill him," Rue stated as the front door slammed shut.

"Precious. We do not kill. We present." Lenore provided elaboration on their position with a flourish of her arms. Rue stared at her with a look close to disdain.

"That is true, yet his end may be nigh simply for the fun of it." Kaige sneered. "How I do detest those pious ones."

Harding moved forward letting his hand find the small of Rue's back. He could feel the quiver that traveled through her body. "I shall keep you safe." The shake only deepened.

"Where is she!" A large bang resonated through the space; the sound of wood slamming and glass breaking. A gentle breeze brought the smell of lilies into the home and gently brushed against them.

"Our Deacon?" Kaige looks to his mother, his eyebrows raised and a grin pulled at his lips.

"Sounds young. Sounds foolish." Lenore let the words trail behind her as she went to welcome their new guest.

"A Master Deckett. He was worried for dear Rue's well-being." Lenore emphasized the adjective before the young woman's name, it picked up an ancient accent.

Rue looked from Harding to Deckett and back. Harding noticed her movements relax as she moved her weight off of his. They exchanged a look that lasted but a moment, one that only he saw.

"Oh thank goodness Deckett," Rue threw her full weight into the man's open arms. His hand found its way to the back of her head, holding her close as she sobbed into his sculpted chest.

When the tears had ceased, Rue's glare landed on the matriarch. Deckett was quick to follow her actions and pointed an accusing finger at Lenore, who stepped back and gave an honest gasp of horror.

A tear slipped from the corner of her eye as she looked to her sons to defend her honor. Kaige took a step forward at the appropriate cue.

From his waist Deckett pulled a pistol, pointing it at his opponent. The entire room stalled.

Rue's silk lined voice returned it to action, "Open the door."

"Pardon, I do not follow?" Deckett looked to Rue for enlightenment.

"Hand me your weapon. Open the door. There is something wicked on the other side and we shall send those three to it."

An expression formed on Rue's face and something primal stirred within Harding. Deckett heedlessly followed the young woman's orders wincing as he touched the burning handle. Blisters rose on his skin as he pulled back, the door staying set on its hinges.

"Give him the key." She pointed the firearm directly at Lenore who fished around in her pocket.

The bow appeared to be made of a heavy rod iron adorned with rubies, the shank was crooked and worn smooth from use and on the bit there was a symbol that neither Rue nor Deckett recognized. Lenore dropped the key into the young man's burnt hand, all the while not letting her eyes leave the young woman who was standing before her brandishing a pistol.

"Well, this is not how I envisioned my evening." Kaige let out a mock sigh, daring Deckett to be the gallant hero. He, in turn, ignored the prodding and returned to the door to comply with Rue's initial request.

The key slide into the lock, the chamber made a series of clicking sounds and a wailing filled the house. The large door moved of its own accord, allowing all those in the room to peer into the darkness that it held.

Deckett stared into the opening transfixed, the rest of the group's attention rested with the pistol.

Rue had crossed the room at a speed none knew she was capable of, the pistol firm between Deckett's shoulders.

His eyes pleaded with the young woman yet her mission seemed to be her own. "I need no saving. I will be my own hero." Rue pushed Deckett through the door, his hands reached to find traction as his screams penetrated the darkness until Rue slammed the door shut and pocketed the gun.

"Oh brother, I think I like this one."

Harding ignored his brother as he took Rue in his arms, his mouth finding hers and he let his longing free.