YEAR OF THE VAMPIRE 15

Chapter 15

Music from: Aquamarine

Evandis was in camel tan pants and an off-white linen shirt that hung loose, its frilled sleeve cuffs rolled up into bulky folds below his elbows. His hair was tied back at the nape of his neck with a deep blue ribbon, but that was where any soft appearance ended. He was nearly leaned to a large, upright sofa-size piece of green-veined white marble that formed a bed-size block at its base, a hammer in one hand and a large chisel in the other, intent on the jagged edge of chunk he'd already removed. His face was set in determination, losing any previously effeminate appearance Ivy had noted. The muscles in his shoulders bunched as he struck the hammer on the end of the chisel, cracking off tightly-crystallized pieces of marble in small slivers.

Ivy felt as if she'd stepped back into the seventeenth century as she stood gazing around the room. On every wall, panels of dark and light marquetry depicted scenes from what she guessed were Old World fairytales. The few chairs were gilt and chalk-white painted wood in French styles she had only seen onstage or in old TV movies. The chandelier was gilded bronze, with flame-shaped bulbs in place of candles.

A ripple from the harp made Evandis glance to the door in irritation. His face immediately changed to a broad smile when he saw Ivy and Dred. He laid his tools on the gilt gesso table nearby and quickly tied the loose cravat at his throat, hiding her quick glimpse of his pale chest.

"Ah! You should have announced we had a visitor," he chided Dred, flipping a loopy tie at his throat. He smoothed back the ruffles of blond hair hanging near his face and gave Ivy a smile as he tucked a gold watch fob into his front pants pocket. "Pleased to see you so soon, Ivybelle."

She resisted a giggle and smiled, nodding. "And you, too, Evandis."

Dred gave them both a scornful look. "How very proper, you two. She just wanted to see what was making all the noise," he told Evandis. "Wanna show her your new man?"

Evandis sent him a seething look, one with no hint of frivolity, Ivy noted. He stepped aside, gesturing to the block of marble with one top corner knocked off. "Behold a small mountain of marble, Ivybelle."

"Anyway," Dred said dryly with searing glare at Evandis, "it's gonna be a man, right, Evandis? He doesn't carve many women."

Evandis met Ivy and held out a hand to her, gesturing to the marble with the other. "Perhaps I've lacked the inspiration, you unmannered child," he half-snapped to Dred, leading Ivy to the marble. "Can you see the figure in the stone?" he asked her. "Or do you see a woman? I would very much like to . . ."

She stared long at the veiny marble, nodding slowly. "Well, I'm untrained in this type of art," she said as he walked behind her. "And all art, really."

Evandis circled her slowly, studying her. "Training is overrated."

"That's not what you said last night," Dred recalled.

"Hush, child." Evandis paused at Ivy's left side, then backed up a few steps, deep in thought as he considered her.

"Kinda looks like your dress, don't it, Ivy?" Dred said. He stood beside her, crossing his arms over his chest as they both gazed at the marble, trying to see a figure in it.

She nodded. "Oh, yes. It does."

Evandis frowned. "What dress?"

"She's making a costume for Halloween," Dred said. "She's going as Scarlett."

"We have a Scarlet." Evandis cocked his head to one side. "I don't think she would permit—"

"Scarlett from Gone with the Wind," Dred clarified.

Evandis' head snapped up, locking eyes with Ivy. "Are you?"

She nodded. "Well, as best as I can do, with my skills. The fabric is correct, and I have a good pattern, so I hope to recreate a close copy." She smiled as a wide grin claimed his face.

"Oh, that would be lovely, Ivybelle." He snapped his fingers. "That's what I should do, too!"

"Oh, gods," Dred groaned.

"What?" She looked up at him. "What's wrong—?"

"Would you mind so very much?" Evandis stepped between them, eyes on Ivy. "I need to see the very precise color of your eyes."

She couldn't help but look back at him, timid as he leaned to gaze pointedly into her eyes. She felt as if some of her soul had slipped away.

"Uh, hey," Dred said, shouldering between them. "That's enough, Evandis. You know what she looks like."

"What's going on?" Vohn's voice came from the doorway.

Dred glanced to him there as Evandis stepped back, turning to appraise the marble again. Ivy looked to Vohn, frowning at the severe look on his face.

"Maeve wants to see you," he said to Dred. His tone softened as he addressed Ivy. "You can wait down the hall. Shouldn't be too long."

Dred grumbled something she didn't hear before he stomped to the doorway, brushing past Vohn. Ivy glanced to Evandis, who was absorbed in the marble once again. She started across the room as Dred disappeared out the door.

"Is he in trouble?" she asked Vohn when she met him.

"Not really." He backed a step to allow her to pass. "Just something about grades, I think."

"Oh." She left the room, turning to see Vohn close the door to within a crack, remaining inside.

"Looks good, Evandis," he said, his voice muted.

"It is still a rock," came the man's stiff response.

"You're still angry." There was remorse in Vohn's tone. "I'm sorry, really, Evandis."

"And well you should be. You and your ruffian skills."

"You're no slouch with a sword yourself, Evandis."

Ivy started down the hallway, still listening.

"I do not carve up other people's skillmanship."

She heard no more as the harp grew louder. The hall was empty, save the few sideboard tables against the walls, this time with dried bachelor's buttons in shades of blue and crimson. The simple, delicate chords of the harp descended in a repeat pattern, seeming to invite Ivy into the last door down the hall. A sliver of light beamed from the mostly shut door, shadowed a few times by movement inside.

By the time she got to the door, the music had changed, still the arpeggio, but now more robust. Confident that the sound would camouflage any squeak of the door, she pushed it open a bit more, straining to see inside before Jovan could notice.

The door opened, showing the mauve and lilac room of wainscot and white-painted columns. He was at the harp, facing her as he leaned the instrument to him, seated on a gold brocade bench. He was intent on the strings beneath his hands as his fingers glided over them, head bent low, as if listening to the instrument whisper.

Ivy stayed at the doorway, peeking around the door, able to see the room in better detail this time. She stood mesmerized by the watery sound the strings vibrated. She had rarely seen a harp in person and never seen one played live. Jovan was dressed much like the night in the garden, except now in dark and light blues. He ended the song, letting it fade out in sound, and looked up at her.

She backed a step, ready to close the door.

"Do you play, Ivy?" he asked, sitting back on the bench.

She shook her head. "Oh, no. No, not me."

"You should." He let the harp tilt to rest and stood, extending his hand to her. "Let me see."

She took a few steps before thinking. "See? See what, Mr. Mervani?"

He grinned quickly, showing perfect teeth in a friendlier smile than she expected. "So formal. Jovan, please, Ivy."

She met him at the harp, surprised at how tall it was when resting.

He took her hand in a gentle hold, firmer when she resisted slightly. "You should play, if not the harp, at least the piano." He pulled her closer to the bench. "Try."

"Oh, no," she said, giggling nervously as he positioned her behind the soundbox.

"It's easy." His hand pushed on her shoulder, decisively, until she sat on the bench. He stood beside her and cupped her hand inside his, aligning it to press against the strings. "It's a bit large for you."

She flinched as he sat behind her, one leg on either side of her, his knees on the outsides of hers. "Uh, Jo-Jovan, I-I think—"

"We'll start with something simple," he said, his arms reaching around to her sides, his left never leaving her hand.

She swallowed nervously as he tipped the harp shoulder back to her neck, but rested it mostly on his own, his face hovering near her ponytail. His right hand drew hers to the other side of the harp so that both her arms extended to the strings.

"The harp is the most graceful instrument a woman can play," he said nearly in her ear. "Some men claim the piano, but I think it lacks a certain elegance."

Her breath hitched, her heart running faster as he placed her fingers against the strings. With a few deft brushes, a cascading sound came from the harp, light and murmuring, like something she felt should be heard in a museum. She let his fingers move hers along the strings, tensing a few times when she moved too quickly or slipped off. By the time their fingers had ridden back to the shorter strings twice, she was smiling.

"Want to try it yourself?" he asked, a smile in his voice.

She didn't look at him, tempted to try solo. She knew it wouldn't work, and only erase the pleasing sound they had produced. "Oh, I know I cannot by myself."

He raised their hands again. "Now, for something more substantive."

She withdrew until her back pressed to him, then sat forward again. "I, um, I don't know—"

"I think Bach. Toccata and Fugue in—"

"What are you doing?" Vohn asked, stepping around the open door.

Ivy recoiled, settling against Jovan's chest without realizing it.

Vohn scowled, but not quite at her. "She's a young girl, Jovan."

"And talented." Jovan let her hands slip from his. "Too talented not to teach."

She lifted from him, feeling a blush run the length of her body as she tried to nudge one knee from his in hopes of escape. He sighed, his breath passing over her neck, and moved his leg so she could stand up.

She shuddered involuntarily as she stood, rattled and feeling emotionally frail.

Jovan smiled at her, a one-sided smile that renewed her blush. "Do you need to sit down for a moment, Ivy? You look uneasy."

"N-No." She took a deep breath and hugged her arms close, her neck still warm from his exhale. "I, um, should go home now."

"Perhaps next time."

"Come on," Vohn said.

She knew he was talking to her, but Jovan's attention kept her rooted to the floor.

"Ivy!" Dred's voice echoed down the hallway. "Ivy!"

Her senses snapped abruptly into place. "Thank you for the chance to . . . do that," she said to Jovan, looking to the harp. "Thanks."

She couldn't quite call it playing, not when he had done it all while she merely followed his movements, but she wasn't sure what it was, and no words came to her mind to express what it was. She hurried to the hallway, passing by Vohn, who stood immobile, and saw Dred at the end.

"There you are," Dred said, shooting Vohn a glare.

"Hi." She met him at the end of the hall. "Are you in trouble with Maeve?"

"Naw. Nothing I can't get outta."

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