Silence! At last! Lilly punched her pillow and lifted her head to peer at the luminescent hands of her alarm clock. Almost five am. The banging, moaning, and thumping coming from the room next to hers had kept her awake for the past six hours and now it was nearly time to get up and start another day.

Six long hours - that vampire certainly had some stamina. Lilly had tossed and turned through the night as she tried to ignore the noise, even resorting to putting her pillow over her head in an effort to block out the moans of ecstasy and the high pitched squeals of “my turn!” and “me too now Charlie!” which rang out from the other side of the wall. She now regretted installing the vampire in the room adjacent to hers. The walls were solid in the old house, but not thick enough to muffle the sound of the rhythmic thumping of the four poster bed as it banged against the wall. She hated to think what the state of the heirloom bed would be after the abuse it had apparently suffered.

Lilly stretched her arms above her head, shivering as the chill morning air reached her fingers. It was still dark, and she considered closing her eyes to try to get at least an hour’s sleep before she needed to get up, but she was restless, and she knew she’d just wake up crabby if the alarm clock woke her after only an hour.

Tossing off the duvet, she sat on the side of the bed and rubbed her tired eyes, feeling around with her feet for her slippers in the gloom. She had that feeling again - the one which told her something wasn’t quite right.

Shivering in her pajamas, she wrapped her duvet around her shoulders and padded in her slippers to the french window which opened up to a stone balcony. As soon as she stepped outside the biting cold hit her squarely in the face and caused her ears to ache. Pulling the duvet up over her head so it formed a hood, she walked to the banister and looked out over the still dark landscape. The ground below was dark as soot at night, but she could just see the outline of the jagged ruins of Arromar Castle silhouetted against the dim gleam of Loch Muir. To the north and south, the old forest planted by the former lairds brooded in the darkness. Lilly shivered again - not from the cold, but from the sense of dread which emanated from the ancient trees, prickling up her spine and warning her to be careful. Even the loch, which usually exuded a calm, indulgent ambiance, was now choppy and irritated, and Lilly felt its distress clearly. Ever since she was a child she was sure she could feel the mood of the earth, and sometimes she thought she could even hear the earth, the trees, plants, clouds or burns trying to talk to her. She could sense when the heather was enjoying the sunshine, and discerned when it grew depressed as it began to lose its beautiful purple flowers. She knew when the crops felt healthy and content, and when the ancient trees were rumbling with self importance, or steeling themselves for an on-coming storm. She even felt the turf’s anxiety whenever Nelson mowed the lawn. When she was younger she would go outside to lie on the grass for hours, trying to sooth the blades of grass as they recovered from the abuse of the gardener’s lawn mower.

She’d soon learned to keep these thoughts to herself, as her two sisters and her brother had made fun of her when she’d told them the flowers had spoken to her. They’d told her it was all down to an over-active imagination. She had decided early on she would become a doctor as she had a great desire to fix things, make things right and look after those around her, but her siblings had laughed and told her she had such a wild imagination she should just be a writer instead. Only her father had encouraged her ‘imagination’. “The earth is life,” he’d said. “Don’t ignore her voice, for she needs attention, love and respect just as we do. Help her, and she will repay the kindness a million times over.” She smiled to herself - she missed that old hippy.

Now, as Lilly leaned her elbows on the banister and pulled the duvet tighter against the wind, she knew the forest was uneasy, the heather issued an air of nervousness, and the loch spoke to her of discord and woe. She peered into the darkness and sensed something was there, something, other than the forest, was watching her. She was relatively safe up on the balcony, but she decided it’d be wiser if she went back indoors. As she turned to head for the doors, she noticed a light moving about in another wing of the house. It was the library - her private library, and no one should be in there, particularly at this time of the day.

Swapping the duvet for her bath robe, she lit a candle and negotiated the range of hallways until she arrived at the closed library door. Putting her ear to the panel, she stopped to listen - someone was moving about in there - she could hear the scraping and thumping of objects being dragged around. A thin glow of light flickered from under the doorway. Hoping fervently she wasn’t about to encounter an intruder, she pushed the door open to find her library in complete disarray - books and boxes were strewn everywhere. There was barely a book left on the shelves. Sitting comfortably in her father’s old leather wingback chair by the fireplace was Charlie, his feet up on her desk, an open book in his hand.

“What the hell?!” Lilly exclaimed. “What are you doing in here?”

Charlie looked up from the book and smiled. He didn’t seem bothered or caught out at all.

“Looking for infiltrators. I’m taking a breather.” He tapped the book on his lap. “Very interesting stuff.”

Lilly marched across the room and snatched the book from his hand. “That’s my diary!”

“It is indeed.”

She clutched the diary to her chest protectively. “It’s rude to read people’s diaries - they’re private!”

Charlie waved his hand about in the air. “Oh come on - it’s from when you were twelve. I don’t think that counts - do you?”

“Of course it counts - these are my personal thoughts.”

“How old are you? Early twenties, right? They’re eight year old thoughts. Hardly relevant today. Just… nostalgia. And rather entertaining.”

Lilly knocked his feet off her desk and slammed the book down out of his reach.

“It’s relevant to me!”

“You mean you still believe Nelson is ‘totally hot’?!” He made quotation signs with his fingers in the air.

Blushing profusely, she crossed her arms over her chest and glowered at him. “I can’t believe you read that!” She paused, shook her head, and leaned back against the desk, picking up the diary again. “God, I can’t believe I wrote that! Or even thought it!”

“See? Irrelevant.”

“You are the sum total of all your experiences and thoughts, Mr Rochester. I may not think like that any more, but those thoughts were a part of what made me who I am today, and you should never have read them.”

“I thought we agreed yesterday to be on first name terms?”

“You thought that. I never agreed. I just… naturally refer to guests by their formal names.”

“It makes me feel ancient.” He leaned forward in his seat. “Wait a minute - I am ancient.” He grinned, pleased with his own joke.

She rolled her eyes and turned to survey the damage to the room.

“Did you find any pooks?”

“Aye, a family of timtolks. They’re on the desk there.”

Lilly scanned the cluttered desk and was dismayed to find a bunch of tiny little beings lying in a twisted pile on the desk blotter. She leaned closer to study them. There were three ‘adults’ - a male, female, and another more elderly male sporting a long white beard, all about three inches high, with chubby faces and ruddy complexions. Lying next to them were what were obviously the children - a tiny boy and girl no bigger than her thumb. Each had their heads twisted in an ungainly fashion. The girl child had her eyes closed and looked like she was just sleeping.

Lilly looked at Charlie, aghast. “What did you say these were?”

“Timtolks.”

“And what do they do?” She prodded the girl child gently to see if she’d open her eyes, but she was as dead as the rest of her family.

“What do you mean, ‘what do they do’?”

“Well, the boghart was a pook who liked to gossip and hurt animals. What do timtolks do?”

“They like to live in libraries.”

“That’s it? They like libraries? Do they bite, or… eat the pages, or… I don’t know… cast evil spells?”

“No. They don’t really do anything. They just like books, so they can be found, more often than not, living in a library.”

“So you snapped the necks of a family of book lovers. You are a total…” She threw up her hands, trying to find the right word, “Philistine,” she finished lamely.

He shrugged. “Any infiltrators must be exterminated. It’s the law.”

“Sod the law! Don’t you have any compassion at all?” She scowled at him and began to empty her father’s old cigar tin, intending to use it as a makeshift coffin. It was the least she could do to give this family a decent burial.

When he didn’t answer, she looked up to find him watching her dispassionately.

“You know -” she prompted, “‘compassion’? - Having some empathy and concern for someone other than yourself?” Tipping the cigar box upside down over the wastepaper basket, she emptied the tobacco crumbs and plucked a big handful of tissues from a tissue box to line the tin. “I don’t suppose you do, being a vampire and all.”

Charlie uncrossed his legs and jumped nimbly to his feet, then crouched down to run his hands along the lid of a wooden chest. “Ah, see, you’re showing your ignorance, and, dare I say - prejudice - of vampires again.”

Lilly sniffed and turned to pick up the first of the deceased family, placing him gently into the tissue-lined cigar box. “Prejudiced? Me? I am so not prejudiced!” she huffed. “Anyway, what do you expect me to think of you? So far you’ve yet to show me you have a tender side.”

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

Charlie looked up from the chest’s lock he’d been jiggling, and waggled his eyebrows. “Ah! You’re after a little ‘tenderness’, are you?”

Lilly glared at him before placing what she presumed was the little man’s wife into the tin. From now on, they’d be lying side by side for eternity. “Stop being facetious Mr Rochester. You know I was talking about compassion.”

“Charlie,” he corrected. “And I have compassion, just not for infiltrators.”

“There’s no harm in showing compassion to infiltrators. And don’t tell me it’s against the law. I bet you’ve broken the law once or twice before.”

“You want me to show compassion to infiltrators do you?”

“Yes.”

“Right, so when the werewolf that’s lurking in the woods to the north there is about to tear you apart, I should show it some compassion and leave it to its own devices?”

Lilly stopped short, holding the little girl timtolk in mid air. “There’s a werewolf in the woods?”

“Yes, I’ll be hunting it tonight.”

Lilly’s legs suddenly felt quite weak; she placed the last of the timtolks in the box, closed the lid, then sat down quickly in the armchair Charlie had just vacated.

Remembering the feeling of being watched while she was out on the balcony, she shivered, despite the warmth of the fireplace.

“Are we safe inside the hotel? There’s lots of windows. The conservatory doors. It could smash through the glass and -”

“They generally don’t break into houses. They like to lurk outside and catch their prey unawares.”

“I thought they were mindless, savage beasts, driven to kill? They might see someone at a window…”

“They are, in a sense, mindless and savage, but they do have hunting instincts and habits. They mostly hunt outdoors at night, and sleep during the day.”

“’Mostly’?”

Charlie turned from the chest and touched her knee. “You are quite safe, Lilly. I won’t let anything hurt you.”

The touch of his hand seemed to burn through her pajamas, but she knew it wasn’t from any real heat he was emitting. Their eyes met for a long moment before he shifted his weight and turned back to the chest again. “Or any of your guests,” he added as an afterthought.

Lilly tugged her bath robe tighter and pulled her legs up so she was sitting cross-legged on the armchair.

“Werewolves are just normal people during the day time, right?” Lilly asked.

“Some. But there has to be an original werewolf to start the process by a scratch or a bite in the first place. We think the original ones are infiltrators that have gotten through the veil.”

“How do you know whether they’re ‘original’ ones, or just some poor unfortunate human who’s been bitten?”

“The infiltrators stay in the form of a werewolf twenty four hours a day.”

Lilly stared into the fire thoughtfully. “So, you’re going to hunt the werewolf tonight… What if it’s someone from the village? Or the hotel? You can’t go killing just anyone.”

He snorted. “So what do you want me to do when I find it? Place it on a leash and take it for walkies?”

She ignored his jibe. “Can’t you catch it? See if it changes form once the sun comes up? If it doesn’t, then you can kill it. We could just lock up the human ones at night, you know, to keep everyone safe.”

“Ah, so now you’re in favor of killing infiltrators? You are a fickle woman.”

Shifting in her seat, she sighed. “Okay, so I concede there are some which need to be exterminated. But not all.” She cast a sad glance at the cigar tin. “You have to promise me, Mr Rochester… Charlie… that you won’t kill every pook indiscriminatingly.”

“So which ones do you want killed?”

She shrugged. “The dangerous ones, obviously.”

“How do I know what your definition of ‘dangerous’ is?”

Pushing the hair out of her eyes, she shook her head impatiently. He was being pedantic. “The ones that can hurt or kill you of course.”

“Human werewolves can rip you to pieces just as easily as an infiltrator one.”

She sighed and threw up her hands. “You’re making this more complicated than it needs to be. Let’s just agree you ask me first before you kill anything, okay?”

“So I need your permission to kill anything?” He tilted his head; the concept seemed quite novel to him.

“Well, I am the manager here…”

Frowning, he leaned forward to study her face. “It means you’ll have to come hunting with me.”

She shrugged, but didn’t feel quite as blasé as she hoped she came across. “If that’s what it takes.”

He stared at the floor for a moment, then seemed to make up his mind. “Okay. It’ll be interesting to say the least. I find your naivety and ignorance rather amusing.”

Lilly huffed. “I’m not ignorant.”

He grinned and turned back to the chest, took the lock in his hand and squeezed until the metal broke into pieces, which he then tossed to the floor.

“You could have just asked for the key!” said Lilly.

Ignoring her, he lifted the lid and peered into the chest. “Ah, what’s this? Who’s the doctor?” He pulled out a stethoscope and held it up in the candlelight.

Lilly moved to kneel on the floor beside him. “Me. Or at least, I wanted to be. My dad bought me this stuff for my thirteenth birthday.” She dug around in the chest and pulled out a white coat which was folded around a medical text book. She smiled to herself. “I was a bit of a…twat. I used to wear this thing and walk around trying to diagnose everyone from this book.”

Charlie placed the ear pieces of the stethoscope in her ears. “It’s a good look. Why aren’t you at medical school?”

She quickly pulled the stethoscope from her ears, and placed it on her lap. “Circumstances change,” she shrugged. “I have to look after this place.”

“’Have to’?”

“We promised my dad this place would never leave the family. My brother was supposed to run it, but, well, he didn’t stay, and my sisters didn’t want it, so I had to take over.”

“So you were the one saddled with it. Why don’t you just sell it and go to medical school? It’d fetch enough to pay your way through university.”

“I told you - I promised my dad I would keep it, no matter what.”

“Promises can always be broken.”

She sighed and shoved the stethoscope back in the chest. “If a promise is broken then it was never a promise in the first place - it would be… just a lie instead. A latent one, but a lie nevertheless. I would never lie to my dad.”

“I think you’re the one complicating things now.” Charlie dragged the stethoscope back out of the box and placed it around her shoulders.

“If you have a dream, you should go for it. I bet your father would understand.” He dug about in the chest and pulled out a metal gadget. “What’s this?”

“It’s an otoscope, a thing for looking in your ears, and you can use the light for inspecting your throat, see?” She tried the switch and was surprised to see the battery still worked.

Charlie shuffled closer. “Is that when I’m supposed to say ‘ahh’?” He opened his mouth wide and stuck out his tongue.

“Ahhhh…”

Lilly laughed and shone the light into his mouth. “Doctors use a tongue compressor for -” She jumped as his fangs snapped into place.

He grinned mischievously. “Sorry, I couldn’t resist.”

Lilly sucked in her breath. “Jesus, Charlie, that was not funny!”

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry. Go on. Inspect away. I promise to behave.” His fangs snapped back out of sight.

Lilly shuffled forward cautiously. “What do you want me to do?” She stopped short and eyed him suspiciously. “If you think this is some kind of kinky doctor sex game…”

He put up his hands in protest. “It’s not! I promise. Think of it as part of your vampire education.” He turned and presented his ear. “You know, actually, you’re quite privileged. It’s against the law for humans to study vampire anatomy.”

Lilly was intrigued. She flicked the light back on and leaned closer so she could peer into his ear. “Really? Why?”

He shrugged. “I guess we want to keep some of our secrets to ourselves.”

“Hmm.” She pressed closer, closed one eye and squinted into the otoscope. His middle ear seemed the same as any other ear she had ever looked at when she’d first received her ‘doctor kit’. Switching off the light, she sat back on her knees.

“How old are you?” she said.

“I was born the year King Charles VI came to the throne of Scotland. He’s my namesake.”

She looked at him blankly. “I’m no historian, sorry.”

He smiled. “And you call me a philistine?! Fifteen Sixty Seven.”

“You are ancient!”

“Indeed.” He pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it to the side, revealing a well toned chest and an impressive six pack. Lilly gulped and shuffled back.

“What are you doing?!”

“You listen to chests with that thing, right?” He pointed to the stethoscope slung around her shoulders.

“I thought you didn’t have a heart?”

“I have a heart, but it doesn’t beat.”

Lilly was intrigued. Even though she was quite sure he was a genuine vampire, it was amazing to think his body was operating without any of the biological systems which usually kept a person going. She put the ear pieces back in her ears and placed the chestpiece against his chest.

“I thought vampires were supposed to be cold and hard, like a statue?” she said as her fingers brushed his skin.

“Bits of us are,” he said, “hard, that is.” He winked and grinned at her.

“Must you be so crude all the time?”

“Must you be a prude?!”

She grunted. “I’m no prude. You really don’t know me at all. Now shut up, I’m trying to listen to your chest.”

“Your bedside manner is as bad as your guest greeting skills.”

She ignored him and moved the stethoscope about his chest, frowning as she listened. There was no sign of a heartbeat, but she could hear air moving in and out of his lungs.

“I can hear you breathing! You shouldn’t need oxygen if your heart isn’t pumping blood around your body.”

“It’s a reflex thing. I don’t need to breathe. Watch.” His chest stopped moving all together.

Lilly sat back, completely fascinated.

“Amazing. Does your hair still grow? Do you shave?”

“Aye.”

“What about your fingernails? Do they grow?”

“They do indeed.”

“Interesting. Your cells are still reproducing. I guess some of your bodily systems still function. Do you… ever need the bathroom?”

“If you’re asking whether I piss or shit, the answer is no.”

“What about when you… er…” She knew she was blushing. “What about when you are having… sexual relations and at the end when you…um…”

“I’m pretty sure doctors would just use the word ‘orgasm’. Or perhaps you’re referring to ‘ejaculation’?”

She felt her face flush even deeper and she looked down, only to realise her eyes were pointed in the direction of his crotch.

“Er, aye, that’s what I meant. I couldn’t think of the word. Do you… ejaculate?” She regretted the question immediately. What was she thinking, asking a guest - or anyone really, this kind of question?

The query obviously didn't bother him, in fact he seemed to take it quite seriously. “I will demonstrate - in the name of science mind you, if you’d like to find out for yourself.”

She stared at him, her mouth open in an 'O' shape, temporarily devoid of words. He grinned at her wickedly and she shoved him and shifted back off her knees.

“Charlie! You’re spoiling this! You promised to behave!”

“Okay, I’m sorry. Let’s move on. What else would you like to know?”

She thought for a moment. “Your teeth. Where do your, erm... fangs... go when you… put them away?”

He leaned forward, opened his mouth wide, and snapped his fangs back and forth. “Behind my teeth - see?”

Shining the light into his mouth she shuffled up closer and tilted her head so she could see the roof of his mouth. His fangs snapped down until they protruded below the line of the rest of his teeth.

“Just how sharp are they? Don’t you ever bite your own tongue?” She moved her hand to his lips, unable to resist an examination of those lethal daggers.

“May I?” He nodded, and she brushed her thumb lightly along the razor sharp tip before jerking her hand away quickly. Even that slight contact had given her the equivalent of a paper cut. Blood seeped out of the wound on the top of her thumb.

She looked at him, horrified. “Am I going to turn into a -”

He grinned and shook his head. “No, a simple bite doesn’t turn you into a vampire. It’s a way more complicated process.”

Lilly breathed a sigh of relief. “Then how does one become a vampire?” she asked, reaching for the tissue box on the desk behind her.

“I’m afraid,” he said, grabbing her wrist before she could reach the box, “that that information is only for those with a need-to-know.” He pulled her hand toward his mouth, inhaling deeply.

His eyes closed as he sniffed at her blood and she found herself watching, fascinated, as his tongue darted out to taste the crimson line. He pulled away, scrunching his face and looking as though he wanted to puke.

“Ew, disgusting.”

Lilly yanked her hand away, absurdly insulted that he thought she tasted gross.

“Well, thanks a lot.” Even as she said it she realised it was ridiculous to be upset about his revulsion. It was actually a good thing - it meant the vaccination was working.

He looked at her sheepishly. “I’m sorry. The vaccination. It makes you taste… rancid.”

That didn’t help at all. For some reason she felt as if he’d ruined some intimate moment and insulted her as well. She yanked the stethoscope from around her neck and threw it into the chest, stuffing the otoscope, white coat and text book in after it.

“It’s nearly six. I have to get dressed and get to work.” Getting to her feet, she grabbed her candle and walked swiftly to the door before pausing to point out the mess in the library. “Please make sure you put all this back the way you found it.” She went to leave, but he called to her.

“Lilly.” She moved her head slowly, unwilling to meet his gaze. He had replaced his shirt and was now standing by the fireplace.

“You’d make a good doctor,” he said quietly.

She didn’t answer him, but turned and left the room.