Stefan’s Diaries: The Craving Chapter 10

November 6, 1864Damon is back, though it chatterms he was never in truth g unmatched. He has been watching me, baiting me, controlling me. He is the puppet master and I am his sad marionette, forced to do his bidding.Until I saw Damon, I had not realized just how fond I had become of the Sutherlands, of how they eased my loneliness and gave me hope that I might not read to live in exile. Though I k current I had to leave them, I had d bed to hope that by proving I could tab in control around them, my journey through this world might ultimately be less solitary. only Damon pick outs me all too well. He might put one over compelled the Sutherlands to accept me, but he didnt compel me to stay in their presence. I could pay slipped out this morning, could have run off in the park, could have disappeared into the tug at the ball. And unless I stayed, because, as Damon no doubt predicted, I aliked being digress of a family again, even if just for a few fleeting days.Damons plan terrifies me precisely because I dont show it. Why New York? Why the Sutherlands? Why involve me? If Damon was able to orchestrate everything, to so oceanmlessly weave his port into the Sutherlands lives and pave the way for my arrival, why stage such a spectacle? Why bother with a trade union? Why not just getting even Winfield to the bank and compel him and the secureer to empty his vast accounts? Does he intend to live as a human? Does he need the marriage for legitimacy in New York society? Is he simply intent upon torturing me?Or is there something Im missing? just most secret aim I cant possibly begin to imagine all I have are questions. And I fear that the answers wont come until the first dead body shows up.Later that Monday afternoon, I stood on the ceiling deck of one of the most amazing Federal-style houses ever built. Slim columns supported a soaring porch all over a formal entrance, to which a grand, curved driveway rolled up as royally as a red carpet. From casement to cornice every detail was archetypefully considered and never overdone. The dining room, large and oval, was (as coterminous as I could tell) exactly the same as the one in the White House. The White House. In our new capital. Thats the sort of place the Commandants House was, as befitted the man who looked after the Brooklyn Naval Yards.What it lacked in size of it and modern touches (such as the Sutherlands residence), it more than make up for in perfectly manicured lawns, a fine orchard, and a spectacular view of Manhattan. The property was perched almost on a cliff analyse the East River and the urban center that was under the Navys protection. Commodore Matthew Perry himself had lived there earlier. I sighed at its magnificence.No, Bridget said, shaking her head decisively and heading back d have gotstairs, plectrum up the train of her skirts in a very businesslike way.Her little entourage followed, laughing good-naturedly.Its too white, joked Bram.Its too smal l, added Hilda.But its incredible The views The size The I said. Whats wrong with this one?Placement. Its in Brooklyn, Bridget said, barely acknowledging her fiance. No one goes to Brooklyn to be married.Winfield and his wife looked at each other with old love, clearly remembering their birth wedding. Apparently it had been quite modest he had not made his luck yet. neither one of them had minded. And yet they were willing to indulge their youngest daughter in her most expensive flights of fancy.Lydia smiled and murmured something to Damon, who wasnt really paying attention. She didnt mind where she was married. bandage it was to be a double feature with us two happy couples tying the knot at the same time, she had graciously allowed her sister to decide all the details.The Sutherlands were at least nominally Episcopal, but patently neither Damons nor my religion, or lack thereof, was a bother, nor was a proper church necessary to the proceedings a family chapel a very rich fa milys chapel would be enough. Bridget was very modern that way.So why did we bother seeing those mansions on Prospect Park? Margaret muttered. If Brooklyn is out, I mean.I rather liked the one with all the Romanesque arches, I said, eager to get this portion of the sham weddings out of the way.Fear not, brother, Damon said, chucking me on the shoulder. exclusively four more to go. Back in Manhattan.We clattered follow out the steep, wooden, and rather old-fashioned stairs to the ground floor, thanking the butler for letting us in. Then it was a walk back d experience to the Fulton Ferry landing, where a boat would take us across to a veritable caravan of carriages for the long uptown commute.This would be a nice place for an ice slam dance parlor, Lydia remarked, walking around the dock pensively.You hope an ice skitter? Damon asked, as if to a four-year-old.If being with Bridget was bad enough, with me constantly cringing at the things that came out of her mouth, the nervou s tightness of waiting for Damon to separate or do something horrible was even worse. I was on pins and needles the entire day. Because Damon would say something horrible, at some point, to Lydia, as soon as he tired of playing the game of engrossed suitor. His attention span for games other than ones he was betting on was incredibly limited.Yes, Lydia said. And theres no ice cream here. And there should be.Wont matter, Bridget said, trying to add something useful to the conversation. Soon theres going to be a giant bridge deck and this will all be shaded off and there wont be anything except for loud carriages and the stink of horses.Bram, the pilot burner source of this information, shook his head. No, Bridgey, the angle is fine. Look where the sun is I leaned on a dock railing, surveying our little party. The girls in this setting looked like a scene from a painting, the four ladies cheeks rosy with sunlight and the exertion of the day, the long ribbons from their straw h ats blowing in the wind, their fluffy walking skirts swept up against their legs by the sea breeze. They were all beautiful, and for just a moment I could forget my present situation.Margaret bought a paper from a newsboy to read on the trip over. It was a fine day for a boat taunt and strangely the East River didnt repel me the way fresh running water usually did. Bridget went to sit down inside the ferry, not wanting any more sun on her skin, which was ironic and hilarious considering my own situation. I was relaxing for the first time that day, my face up to the sun, letting my Mediterranean skin take on a bronzed, healthy glow.And then Margaret plopped down in the seat next to me.You seem to be at least a bit more reasonable than the other fiance, Margaret snapped. Tell me. What do you want with my family. Money? The business? What?I groaned inwardly. You have to believe me, I said, fixing her blue eyes with my own hazel ones. Without compelling her, I willed my voice to sound as genuine as I could. I took her arms in my hands, which was bold, but I needed her to understand. I am not after Bridgets wealth. All I want is your familys safety and happiness. I swear to you by whatever you want.Thats just the problem. I dont know what your word is worth. I dont know you. Nobody knows you, Margaret said. Sighing, she took off her hat. Its just so odd. I can see why Bridget likes you, youre certainly handsome and well-mannered.I cast my eyes down, embarrassed.But really no papers, no history, just an escapee of the South? This is Bridget were talking about. She wanted Papa to take us all on a tour of Europe so she could capture the heart of a king, or prince, or at least a duke. Nothing less than royalty for her. And no offense, youre about as far from royalty as one can get.Well, and Lydia got her count, I suppose.Yes, Margaret said thoughtfully. She eyed me, pushing a black tendril of whisker back behind her ear. And what about Damon DeSangueI shrugged, try ing to look innocent.What do you think of him? The two of you have been unusually close since your double declarations of love.I stared into the distance south, where the mighty Hudson and East rivers joined and became the sea. I shaded the city from my eyes, blocking it out, and the sun was bright white and rose over ancient, exotic waters.How much could I tell her without endangering her? She seemed to be the only one in the family with a sensible head on her shoulders. I thought once more about Katherine and whether my family would have been better prepared with some warning.Dont trust him, I eventually admitted, hoping I wasnt putting her at greater risk. I dont.Hm. She looked over at Damon, who was talking animatedly with Bram and Winfield. Neither do I.Bridget had chosen the next few venues to visit as far away as it was viable to get from where we were. The mansion of the Richards was near Fort Tryon on the northern tip of Manhattan, while the Fulton Ferry dock was at the southeastern end.The slow ride in our carriages from downtown gave me an almost panopticons view of city life. belatedly going up Fifth Avenue, I was amazed by the sheer difference in fortune of the people who made their home in New York from the often shoeless newsboys and schmatta, or rag-sellers, to people like Winfield, who sat in his gilded private carriage, puffing on a cigar.We stopped for lunch about halfway there at the Mount Vernon Hotel on Sixty-first Street, where Bridget continued to discuss her outfit for the wedding. and Darla had her dress in muslin, out of respect for the war, but its almost over, and I think I should have a new pair of earrings, dont you, Papa? Stefan, darling, there is the most fantastic pair of pearl earringsDamon cleared his throat. Bridget, you should absolutely have new earrings. And your outfit sounds good enough to eat, dont you agree, Stefan?I stood up from the table, unable to enjoy the nice repast of cold chicken, fresh bread, fish, and tea that had been set before us, and unable to listen to another word of my fiancees asinine prattling or my brothers endless teasing.I must go take some air, I excused myself, and would have stumbled over the bench on my speedy way out if I didnt have the grace of a vampire. I should not have been exhausted Id endured far worse. Living hungry in the middle of exchange Park and hunting small prey was far more physically demanding than sitting in a carriage, looking at houses, and listening to the youngest member of the Sutherland family babble on about meaningless things. But as I had not fed since the squirrel the day before, I was famished and weak, as if I was enduring a transatlantic journey.A quick, silent trip to the kitchens revealed exactly what I had hoped rats, of course. Not too many, and mostly in the breezeway between the cold house and the pantry. With a flash of my hand I grabbed one and broke its neck, drink the poor thing dry, all without losing control. It was easy, with such turn ones stomaching fare.A low noise, a muffled sigh, made me turn and look up guiltily, rat blood leaking down my lips.Damon stood there holding a waitress around her throat, fangs out and ready to feast. She had the dumb, slightly breathless look of someone who was under a spell.I see we both slipped out for the same thing, Damon said, pleased. He raised a lip in disgust at the rat in my hand. Although, really, you can do better.He lifted his head back, ready to pick off Please dont I put up my hand helplessly. Please dont kill her, I begged.Damon paused. All right, he said gamely. I wont kill her. As an early wedding present Just for you.I unlikeable my eyes, seeing the horror of the future before me. By implying he wasnt going to kill this girl, as a present, there was the assumption that there would of course be other murders, later on.