One Hundred Years Earlier
1907 London
"Annabel, stop being so obtuse and get out of that bed immediately." My mothers' voice grated through me like nails scratching a chalkboard, her upper-class English accent more noticeable than ever has she was trying her best to repress her excitement of what the day held in store. Somehow I dragged myself out of bed, ignoring my mother's tutting at my less than graceful appearance.
"I will summon Trudy to help you dress." my mother sniffed as she glided out of the room.
The only response I could manage was an un-ladylike grunt at her retreating back. I sank down on my padded stool in front of my dressing table. Reluctantly I stared at my reflection in the gold leaf mirror I was only sixteen I looked and felt like I was a hundred years old. My green eyes once burning and alive were now dull and empty. My full lips were sore and chapped a result of my nervous habit of chewing on my bottom lip. I concentrated on detangling my red hair and tried not to think about what was happening that day.
For several months mother had been trying to convince me that this was the best option, the only option. "He's a good man Anna; his father owns a damn gold mine out west. You'll be good together" she'd said one of the many times I'd tried to question her about why she was all but forcing me to marry Henry Culoon. Another time she simply replied "don't be so selfish." I might have laughed at her hypocritical words if I hadn't have felt so much like crying. In the short time I had known him he had been both physically and mentally abusive, my 'friends' told me that all men were like that and to stop complaining.
But as I sat staring at my face in the mirror, on the morning of my wedding day thinking of the beautiful, carefree and innocent young girl I had once been, I simply knew that I could not marry Henry. I stood up so fast I knocked over my stool. I had made my decision. My mother had already threatened to disown me if I didn't marry Henry. Why give her the satisfaction? Why indeed.
I already had a small bag packed ready for my honeymoon; I threw some more underwear in my bag. And not for the first time I found myself wondering what my father would think if he were here. I tore a piece of paper out of my sketchbook and scribbled a note I could feel a lump rise in my throat and tears filled my eyes. I concentrated on the task in hand: breaking out of my own house. I threw my bag out of the window and then I jumped. I landed on my back tearing my nightdress all the way up my leg, exposing my bare thigh. I picked up my bag and ran quickly to the forest at the back of my house.
As I plunged deeper into the depths of the forest I thought back to happier times before my father had lost all our money and committed suicide; when my mother was still capable of love and affection; when I wasn't being forced to marry a man to keep my 'family' from becoming street urchins.
It was the strangest sensation I had no idea where I was or where I was going but I had never felt so at home in my life. That was when I first felt that I was being watched. I thought I was being paranoid but then I heard the unmistakeable fall of footsteps about five hundred yards behind me.
Lot's of possible scenarios flashed through my mind; my worst fear was that it was Henry coming to find me, to take me home. I picked up my pace. I risked a glance behind me and was relieved to find that it wasn't Henry or one of his men that was pursuing me. It was infact the most beautiful man that I've ever seen in my life. I was so relieved that my pursuer wasn't Henry that I forgot that I didn't know this man. Forgot that I was all alone. Forgot about the danger.
I turned to him and smiled "Hello my name is Annabel" I said to him pleasantly. His face was unreadable, and then I looked at him properly for the first time. He was tall, towering over my slender 5'4, he had honey blond hair some of which was hanging in his eyes and I was overwhelmed by the desire to brush it away. I stepped closer to him; a loud growl escaped his angel lips. That was when I looked at his eyes. They were a deep burgundy red. I tried to scream but I couldn't make my mouth work. I turned. Turned to run. Turned to escape.
And then I was on the floor, he was straddling me. I didn't remember falling. And I was scared. Inexplicably I smiled I suppose I wanted to make him like me, so that he wouldn't hurt me. My smile confused him and then his confusion turned to a look of pain. "Close your eyes you won't feel a thing. And I'm sorry" he mumbled. He leant into my neck and bit me.
The pain was shocking I felt like my neck was on fire I opened my eyes, I could only see the top of his honey blond head buried into my neck, drinking my blood. I tried to scream but it came out as a whimper, he looked up and met my terrified but desperate gaze.
"Please." I begged. "Please I'm only sixteen."
A/N Thanks to everybody that's read and reviewed the story so far. Sorry it's took me so long to update. Please review I really appreciate them and they encourage me to write :-)