Fateful

  Fateful

  by

  Cheri Schmidt

  SMASHWORDS EDITION

  * * * * *

  PUBLISHED BY:

  Cheri Schmidt on Smashwords

  Copyright © 2011 by Cheri Schmidt

  Smashwords Edition License Notes

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons living or dead is entirely coincidental.

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  * * * * *

  Chapter 1

  American Girly-Girl in London

  A chill seeped into Danielle Darcey’s hand from the glass of the airplane window. Tucking her cold fingers beneath her leg, she contemplated how the huge city sprawling below looked more like a frightening maze. An enormous maze, she thought. I hate mazes. Apprehension settled around her much like the choking fog that once plagued this ancient metropolis.

  Dragging her attention from the distressing view, Danielle swallowed. The sight of London resurrected her fears of getting lost and intensified them. She knew her lack of direction was to blame, and also knew the miserable trait would surely prove to be her downfall in a city that looked like a never-ending labyrinth. It didn’t help that she had gotten lost on her last and only visit.

  One minute she was walking down a busy street with her parents, and the next, she was alone. She shivered as she recalled how it felt to be swimming in a sea of long legs and hips with swinging handbags and briefcases. Danielle called out for them repeatedly, but it seemed they couldn’t hear her over the din of busy Londoners. She had wandered for what seemed like hours with her childlike perception of time. After her cries grew to sobs, and she’d exhausted herself emotionally, she had curled up next to a storefront to get out of the way. An elderly woman with a plump, friendly face noticed her tear-streaked cheeks as she was leaving the shop and helped her.

  Being so young, this experience stuck with Danielle. That, added to the fact that losing her way has been a repeated occurrence, served to deeply ingrain her fear, making a common worry irrationally desperate.

  Deep down she knew London offered what promised to be a thrilling experience: art school in a famous city, a promising club scene, and she couldn’t possibly leave out—British boys. A European love affair was an appealing thought, but this foolish fear created a dark cloud over her natural enthusiasm.

  She slid her attention back to the window, and watched the landscape draw closer. Glenwood Springs, Colorado was so much smaller in comparison. Feelings of excitement, nervousness and panic about this trip mixed into a nauseating mess inside her stomach. She was making herself sick with this kind of thinking, and she knew better.

  Get a grip, Danielle! What is wrong with you?

  * * * * *

  “I know what’s wrong with you, Dannie,” Brianna said in that delightful British accent of hers. They’d just arrived at her uncle’s home in Chertsey after they’d picked her up from the airport.

  Danielle studied her cousin who was standing on the opposite side of the bed from her, the open luggage between them, her hand curved around the post of the canopy bed. Looking at her cousin still felt almost like looking into a mirror. Almost. While the color of their hair was the same, Danielle had natural waves, and Brianna had somehow been blessed with straight shiny tresses. Looking down at how one of those waves curled gently around her finger, Danielle was glad, at least, that they weren’t tight wiry curls. However, it seemed Brianna was trying to escape their ancestral similarities by adding blond highlights to her chocolate-colored locks. Yet there was no escaping the distinctly “Darcey” physical traits of a fair complexion starkly contrasted with dark brown eyes ... and that darn upper lip that was slightly thinner than the bottom. While they’d both changed physically, it seemed that personality wise, neither one of them had, and Brianna was already teasing her….

  “What’s that?” she asked, raking fingers through her flight-tangled waves, and smiling. She knew her cousin’s ribbing was only in jest.

  “Well, for one, you sure have a lot of skirts,” Brianna mentioned, taking one of the items in question to the closet. “So, it seems, you’re still a total girly-girl.” Brianna sniffed at the article of clothing, and then said, “Still fond of smelling like a sweet confection, still hunting for Prince Charming to whisk you away to a happy ending.”

  “I suppose I never did outgrow the pink-twirling-dress stage,” Danielle muttered while considering one of her favorite skirts, and couldn’t bring herself to feel bad about it. She ran her hand over the pale-blue silk Dupioni. “I like jeans too,” she confessed. “But they always ride up in all the wrong places—”

  Brianna snickered. “Yeah, it’s been twelve years, but I remember.... My American cousin: a sweet-smelling, artistically-gifted, princess who now has a black belt in karate. I love you despite the contradictions in your personality.”

  “Oh please, I’m not that bad.” Danielle winced internally when she lifted a romantic floral skirt with tiered ruffles from her suitcase, essentially proving herself a liar. Attempting to change the subject, she said, “I should teach you some moves, so you can fight off all the guys stalking you.”

  Brianna took one look at that frilly number and snorted, basically ignoring her words. “Uh-huh.” She then reached into the open luggage and produced a pink t-shirt. Danielle turned pink to match. “So, Danielle, why karate? Why not ballet or some other girly thing?” She held the pastel top up as evidence. “You’d look lovely in a pink tutu.”

  Danielle snatched the shirt, folded it and set it firmly in a drawer. “My father wanted me to be able to defend myself when I started dating. And, you know, it’s considered streetwise, which is definitely not girly!”

  Again, ignoring her argument, Brianna said, “Hmm, it’s true, guys seem to only want one thing.”

  Fine, she thought, deciding to go with it. “And whether they’re American or British, it’s the same, isn’t it?” Danielle shook the wrinkles out of a blouse wondering if she wouldn’t have better luck with English guys like she’d imagined.

  “Yeah, pretty much.” Brianna paused to scrutinize her. “Although, I must admit, British chaps might really go for the girly-girl.”

  Not admitting the comment gave her a bit of hope, Danielle stuffed her panties into a drawer as she pondered it. “I hope I meet a gentlemanish type. You know, the type of guy who knows how to treat a lady. Do men like that exist anymore?” she said before thinking.

  Her cousin snorted louder this time. “I fear, Cousin, that you’ve still been reading too much Jane Austen and too many fairytales.”

  She really didn’t like how much truth there was in that statement and felt her lips tighten. Danielle knew it was silly to wish for what she did, naive even. But she’d met enough males who lacked respect for women, a growing trend it seemed. And at nineteen ... well.... “But isn’t Will a gentleman?” There had to be some hope.

  “He’s fairly ‘gentlemanish.’ For a rugby player.” Brianna appeared to be contemplating that while she slipped Danielle’s denim jacket around a hanger, then added, “But I’m afraid you’ll have to kiss a lot of toads to find your prince, even amongst us proper Brits.”

  “If I were guaranteed to find a prince then I’d happily kiss a hundred slimy, bumpy toads.”

  B
rianna giggled and shivered. “I don’t like the image those words just put into my head.”

  Somehow Danielle wasn’t as disturbed by it, perhaps because The Frog Prince was one of her favorite tales.

  * * * * *

  After dinner, they invited her to sit in the parlor for tea and storytelling. With Uncle Nick’s lengthy career as a history and mythology professor at King’s College, he’d long ago earned the title of “storyteller” in the family. This post-dinner activity had become a tradition in the family when they visited.

  Danielle sipped at her tea, thinking she quite liked the peach herbal drink Aunt Charlotte had prepared for her, especially with the cream and honey Danielle rebelliously added to it. She knew from the look of disapproval souring Charlotte’s forced smile that the action was probably considered a sin. Oh well, she thought. Tucking her feet beneath her, she also enjoyed how the hot liquid warmed her fingers.

  Uncle Nick considered Danielle as he nudged a blazing log in the fireplace with a poker. The firelight caught his clouds of salt and pepper hair with a tinge of bright orange. “Danielle, are you too tired for this? Do you need to rest?”

  “Honestly, my clock is all messed up. I did take a nap on the plane, but for me it’s like eleven A.M. I’m wide awake.” Nicolas evaluated her for a moment longer as he settled into his favorite chair, looking slightly concerned. She offered what she feared looked like a wearied smile. “I’m fine, please tell us a story.”

  He nodded, even if, as she suspected, he didn’t believe her. “Well, young ladies, would you like historical fact or myth tonight?”

  They looked at each other in unspoken agreement. “Myth, please.”

  “Hmm. Let’s see...” He paused as amusement twinkled in his eyes. “How about myth based on historical fact, but with a scary twist?”

  “Yeah!” Brianna and Danielle said together.

  He began, attempting to look ominous as he spoke. Danielle didn’t think the look worked for him. “Did you know there once was a real Dracula?”

  Danielle frowned, barely resisting a roll of “yeah right” with her eyes.

  “Well, there was, but he wasn’t a count as many believed, he was a prince. Prince Vlad Dracula was really from Transylvania. However, he gained his title not through inheritance, but by murdering Vladislav II. Being a horrible ruler, all who lived in his kingdom feared for their lives.

  “One day Prince Dracula invited a large group of the poor to his castle for an elaborate banquet. Despite their fear of him, they couldn’t resist the invitation to a feast. When they were all well-fed, he asked, ‘Would you like to be without cares, and lacking nothing in this world?’ They of course all said yes. But the peasants didn’t realize that his question had a menacing motive behind it, because he then murdered them all, releasing them from the burdens of this life, therefore granting their wishes, as he saw it. He was quite brutal in the manner he took their lives, killing them b—”

  “Nicholas!” shouted Aunt Charlotte, his eyes flew to meet hers. “Don’t you dare tell the gory details of that story to these innocent young women!”

  He paused a moment, then continued, “Uh … yes … well, needless to say, it wasn’t nice at all, but because of the way he massacred the less fortunate in his kingdom, superstitions arose that led people into believing he was a vampire.”

  Danielle hadn’t bought it at first, but the way he spoke with such conviction was kind of freaking her out. Uncle Nick was telling this story like he did a historical one, not the way she’d heard him recite a myth.

  Nicolas continued, “But perhaps he was not, because he was later killed by an assassin. However, the people did not believe he was truly dead, and decided to exhume his coffin to make certain he was in it. Yet they were never able to find it where it should have been, so the mystery remained unsolved. Many people believe he still roams the darkened streets of Europe. Especially since stories of the existence of such creatures have spread through the world and continue to this very day.”

  Danielle decided she preferred his tales of royalty even though this one did contain a prince. Chills tickled their way around her spine, causing her to shiver. It was clear Uncle Nick marked her reaction because he smirked.

  “Um, Uncle Nick?” she interrupted.

  “Yes, Danielle.”

  “You tell that story like you think it’s true.”

  “Well, it is true.”

  “I mean the part about vampires. Do you believe they exist?” She shivered again. If they existed, this was the perfect place for them. It somehow made his story more believable and because of that, more frightening.

  “Well,” he said, thoughtfully holding his chin, “if they do exist they would definitely hunt within an old city like London.”

  Figures he’d verbalize exactly what she’d been thinking. Yet, “You didn’t really answer my question.”

  “Well, love, people do go missing here. Whether that’s due to criminals or vampires I really don’t know. As far as I do know, no one has been found with bite wounds on their neck. Although there have been some recent disappearances right here in Chertsey; so I wouldn’t want you to become complacent. If vampires do exist, they’re good at hiding themselves. Either way, it isn’t safe to walk the streets of London by yourself at night. We don’t need you to go missing, Danielle dear. My brother would not be pleased if I allowed something to happen to his daughter while you were in my care,” he said, stating the obvious.

  Did he have ulterior motives? “Uncle Nick, you don’t need to tell me frightening stories to get me to keep my curfew.” And at her age she didn’t really think it was necessary, but she knew how old-fashioned her uncle could be, and she supposed, to him she probably was young.

  “I know that, love. I just wanted to tell you a spooky tale, and vampires seemed like a good one. It is true that recent missing persons brought this story to the forefront for me. But please take it for what it’s worth—fact or fiction.”

  Again she was puzzled and frustrated with her uncle’s lack of commitment to the existence of vampires. What did he really believe? What did she believe? No, she decided, they can’t be real. “Well it was a good one!” Danielle frowned as she uncurled her legs and rose from her seat, knowing she’d likely have scary dreams tonight. And from the look on Brianna’s face, so would she.

  Uncle Nick appeared to be quite delighted with himself and on the verge of bubbling over with mirth. But his wife gave him a cutting shame-on-you glare, which was the only thing able to wipe the smirk off his age-creased face.

  Chapter 2

  Meeting Angels in the Dark

  The next day Brianna and Danielle went to college for orientation. Brianna would be attending King’s College while Danielle was at Central St. Martin’s. Both schools were in close enough proximity for them to leave together and meet up after their classes. Brianna drove, but after that, they would usually be taking the rail. They toured their separate classrooms, gathered up the necessary textbooks, and met some of their professors. One of Danielle’s teachers assigned her a paper first thing: choose an artist and study up on him or her.

  Brianna drove Danielle around so she could learn the roads, though she didn’t really pay much attention. If they’d be taking the rail from here on out she wouldn’t need to drive herself.

  Of course, when she actually ducked as they took a turn because she thought the oncoming traffic was going to hit them, she realized if she did ever have to drive, she’d have trouble getting used to this. Great, she thought, knowing me, I’ll get lost and end up on the wrong side of the street, all done from the wrong side of the car.

  Danielle tried to forget about her concerns when they went to the library. Having chosen Van Gogh, she began a search on the computer for what she needed; figuring Brianna wouldn’t need to know about her reliable knack for getting lost. For now.

  To her surprise, Brianna had arranged to meet her boyfriend there. Having found the title of the book she wanted, Danielle stud
ied her cousin’s guy as she made her way to the books on the shelves. She’d only seen pictures of him on the computer. Will was definitely handsome, she decided. He had the body of an athlete, his pleasing face was crowned with blond curls and, from first impressions, he seemed quite charming.

  She looked down at the number for the book she needed, refocusing her thoughts. Making her way to row seven, she was startled, when Brianna asked, “Dannie, will you be all right getting back if I leave you the car?”

  Danielle spun around and as her eyes focused on the keys dangling from Brianna’s fingers, panic crept in. No way did she think this would ever, could ever happen so soon! As her earlier worries came rushing back, Danielle backed up a step and felt her hip bump into the edge of the bookcase. Why did she have to forget to pick up a GPS before leaving home? She’d have to do that tomorrow for sure, but that wouldn’t help right now....

  Certainly, she could use her American driver’s license for a while—like that gave her any comfort.... And how could her cousin ditch her so quickly?

  Exhaling a measured breath, Danielle collected the keys with her gaze traveling to Will again as he smiled hopefully at her. Of course Brianna could ditch her for this good-looking, blond guy, Danielle realized, and knew she might have done the same.

  “Pleeease? You’ll be fine. I drove you all over today. If you get lost, just call me. And remember to stay on the left side of the road,” Brianna tacked on with an apologetic grin.

  She forgot to mention this had to be done from the wrong side of the car too. Danielle’s teeth ground together on the thought. “Um, Bri? I should tell you, I’m really good at getting lost,” Danielle murmured, supposing it was time to confess, hoping it might make a difference.