Dance Until Dawn Read Online Free Page B

phial into his coat pocket and got out a pack of cigarettes. He put one between his lips, struck a match, and lit it, regarding me over the glow from the flame. I watched him from my safe distance.
    ‘Very well,’ he began, ‘allow me to tell you a few home truths.’
    I went to speak, but he raised his hand with an authoritative gesture, and I fell silent.
    ‘Against my better judgement I have allowed you to give vent freely to your anger and frustration. You have, I believe, used most of the obscene language in the English-speaking world. Now you will listen to me, if you value your survival.’
    I felt another thrill of fear slice through me at his cold words, but said nothing.
    ‘In order to survive in our world, you have to feed. The food of the vampire is blood. If you do not feed, your flesh will wither and fall from your bones, yet you will not die. Your beauty will be lost, and your mind—
you
will be lost, and that I cannot allow.’
    I made no comment. The man was mad, clearly deranged, and I was his prisoner. If I said anything he didn’t like, he might turn into a raging maniac. He looked strong. I felt sure he could pull me apart with his bare hands.
    ‘Yet you still do not believe me.’
    I looked at him. He looked so calm and
reasonable
, standing there smoking his cigarette. The feeble light from the sputtering lamp chased some of the shadows from his handsome face and illuminated those incredible eyes. I shook my head slowly. He leaned away from the wall to extinguish his cigarette.
    ‘I have no idea why your first attempt at feeding made you sick, I have never before witnessed such a phenomenon. I can only surmise it is because you have retained more humanity than most during the change. But then, I always knew you were unique.’
    I thought he might have been making a joke, but if he was, his face showed no sign of humour.
    ‘You don’t know anything about me,’ I retorted.
    He raised his eyebrows at that and walked slowly back towards me.
    ‘Your name is Elinor Jane Wakefield but most people call you Ellie. You are twenty-five years old and a dancer by profession. You live alone, or at least you used to live alone, in a first floor apartment in a Victorian house in Crouch End, North London. You are an only child, your parents are dead, and you were brought up by foster parents, whom you left at the tender age of eighteen to attend dance college. You enjoy going to popular music concerts and festivals and you dance like an angel.’
    I stared at him, completely dumbfounded. How the hell did he know all that? Will continued, his face still impassive.
    ‘I also know that you have never been truly in love, which is something I intend to rectify.’
    The sheer arrogance of the man astounded me almost more than his in-depth knowledge of my life.
    ‘Now I know you’re insane,’ I spat.
    ‘A trifle optimistic I grant you. But insane? No.’
    ‘What are you going to do to me?’
    I felt a rush of cool air, and found myself pinned to the wall so suddenly, and with such force, that my head smacked into it. I saw stars for a split second. His strong hands held my arms above my head and, once again, I hadn’t seen him move.
    I stifled a panicky scream of terror. He regarded me almost lazily as he traced one elegant finger softly down my cheek, and brought it to rest against my lips, his other hand easily keeping both of mine captive. My face tingled where he had touched it – ice and fire at the same time. He prised my mouth open with his finger and ran it lightly over my canine teeth. His breath was cool on my face as he spoke in quiet even tones. ‘Have you not felt the change in your teeth child? Have you not ran your tongue over those oh-so-delicate points?’
    I swallowed the hysteria rising in my throat. I would not let him see how afraid I was.
    I would not
. I chose not to answer his question, either. I merely stared defiantly into his eyes.
    He leaned in even nearer, and spoke softly, his