The Dark Blood of Poppies by Freda Warrington

palms?” Violette banged the window shut. “Nothing would surprise me now.”
    “But the moon influences everything, even us. Aren’t you more restless when it’s full? I don’t believe you haven’t noticed.”
    “Just tell me, Charlotte, what am I to do? I swore that if ever I harmed one of my company, I’d find a way to destroy myself. It must be possible.” Abruptly she extended her left wrist, palm up, and sliced the tender flesh with a fingernail. A slit appeared, red as poppies.
    Charlotte ran to her and prised her hands apart. “Don’t!”
    They held each other’s gaze. Even so close, Violette was icy, remote, not human. She looked ready to attack Charlotte without a moment’s reflection. She’d certainly threatened to do so in the past.
    Charlotte knew enough to dread the consequences. Lilith’s bite brought unwelcome transformation… perhaps even the death of her love for Karl.
    Still, she held her ground.
    “I’ve told you the answer. Stop trying to resist the thirst.”
    “You don’t understand. I can’t simply give in to Lilith. I can’t feed on just anyone, Charlotte. I’m compelled to choose my victims. And choosing them is agony. So, whether I defy the hunger or not, it’s a fight that nearly kills me.”
    Growing braver, Charlotte touched the scar that peeked above Violette’s neckline. “Why ask my advice when you won’t listen? This scar, who inflicted such an injury?”
    A pause. “You know Pierre Lescaut?”
    “Yes, I know Pierre.” Understatement.
    “It was him.”
    “What?” Charlotte was mortified. Pierre had been the only one to support her at the meeting. It didn’t make sense.
    “You might have told me,” said Violette, “that a group of vampires came here complaining that you’d created a homicidal lunatic, and to discuss what should be done about me.”
    “I’m sorry. I didn’t know how. I hoped it would blow over. I would have come to you tonight…”
    “Well, you’re too late. Pierre reached me first. He suggested that, far from speaking in my defence, you supported them against me.”
    “That’s a lie!” Charlotte didn’t want to argue, but mixed emotions got the better of her. “I was on your side, even after what they said about Matthew. Is it true? Did you kill him?”
    Violette’s eyes betrayed no shame. Instead Charlotte saw Lilith’s soul burning behind the sapphire irises. She recoiled.
    “It was a warning,” Violette said grimly. “No one threatens my ballet,
no one
.”
    “And Pierre?” Charlotte almost lost her voice. Perhaps the dancer had slain him, too. Obnoxious as Pierre could be, she did not wish him dead. “What happened?”
    As Violette related the story without emotion, Charlotte turned away and leaned on the table. Pierre’s behaviour left her incandescent – but Violette’s retaliation had been extreme. Charlotte thought,
Gods, what have I created?
    “The worst thing,” Violette finished, barely above a whisper, “is that I felt nothing. I wasn’t angry or vengeful, I felt no pity or pleasure. I feasted on his blood, fought him and thrust him through the window, and I didn’t care about any of it.”
    Charlotte was trying to form a response when Violette rushed at her. She was too shocked to defend herself as the dancer gripped her shoulders and slammed her back against a bookshelf. Tears glittered on Violette’s long black lashes. “Have you some magic formula to make me
care
about anything, dearest?”
    Her mouth came down on Charlotte’s collarbone, burning. She tried to side-slip into the Crystal Ring, but Violette held her in place without effort. Charlotte closed her eyes, petrified.
This is it
, she thought.
This is where she takes my blood and destroys my soul.
    Stefan and the others are right. Violette is insane, a danger to us all. Why have I tried to protect her?
    She felt the pressure of fang tips – then a rush of air where the mouth had been. Karl was there, gripping Violette’s shoulder. His