Chapter Nine
Margot shook off the effects of the bite.
She closed her red eyes, and focused on the black coffin. It was dark; endless dark. She opened it, and glided upstairs. The vampiric mirror cast no shadow. Her small, right hand opened the spidery door, and she saw a woman vampire. Her eyes gleamed red; her long, black gown glided towards her.
'The Pale Girl of New York', she said.
'Who are you, my Lady?', she asked her.
'Me! I am Countess Evelyn Borcher', she answered.
'Lady Margot'.
'A child, girl. A child', the Countess said.
'And, you're the servant of Lord Nathaniel'.
'Yes, my Countess'.
'You're dead, girl. Newly dead'.
'And you're here to cause me sadness'.
'Sadness, girl. No! I am Lord Nathaniel's wife'.
'Wife'.
'Ex-wife'.
'I see'.
'Do you, child...'.
'I have no...problems with you, my Countess', Margot said.
'Problems are problems; death is death; blood is blood'.
'And'.
'And I am here to seek you out, Margot'.
'And'.
'And, I am sure that you're not dead'.
'No'.
'That's fine, dear. Vampires are cruel sometimes'.
'I know, my Countess. May I escort you to the Feasting Hall?', Margot asked her. The Countess brooded on the thought.
'Yes, Margot. That will be delightful. I am hungry', the Countess answered.
And Margot glided towards the vampiric hall, and opened the door.
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