Maybe he was old school. Some faeries were still stuck in the medieval ages, although she didn’t know why. She’d been born in those times and they sucked. Why anyone would prefer a time with no running water when people used to toss their refuse out the windows into the streets, she had no idea.
Besides, vampires weren’t a fan of any time period. People burned on pyres all the time, even now.
Lilith followed him all the way to the back of the fortress, staring the whole time. This building was sort of like a castle, but dark. Torches lit the way they traveled. Even that light seemed to be absorbed by the black, glistening walls. Some parts of the surfaces had split open to reveal dim red light.
“Is this entire building made of cooled lava?” she asked.
“Yes.”
“And is there still lava inside the castle that’s still hot?”
Flint opened and closed his hands, like he was trying not to reach for her. “Yes.”
Oh well, that made things even more dangerous for her. Damn it. She had to be extra careful here, or she’d light up like a firework on the fourth of July.
Licking her lips, she hustled closer to Flint. So close that she bumped into his back when he paused by another door.
He spun like she’d dug a dagger into his back. Snarling, he pointed to the room and ordered, “Get in there. Clean.”
“Okay,” she said, lifting her hands up. “Sorry about that, bud.”
She was damn lucky none of that lava spilled out of his head and fell on her. Lilith berated herself for her own foolishness as she slipped into the room beyond. She needed to be a lot more careful if she was going to survive this.
“Uh.” Lilith didn’t want to make him any more angry by asking more questions, but the room was pitch black. “Lights?”
At her request, the room lit up from four torches overhead.
A latrine. He wanted her to clean another bathroom that was pretty much just troughs where the faeries were relieving themselves.
If that’s what he thought would scare her off, then so be it. Lilith hadn’t lived this long without touching a few disgusting things in her life, and she hadn’t been a noble when she was a human. At least, she didn’t think so. She still didn’t have a lot of memories of that time.
Flint wouldn’t get the best of her. If he wanted her to get down on her hands and knees to prove herself, then she would.
People shit themselves when they died all the time. She’d seen so many bodily fluids in her life, even had them on herself when she hadn’t figured out how to cradle the bodies while feeding. Bathrooms were nothing compared to the visceral scent of death.
A small cabinet in the back had been left open, a mop and bucket waiting for her. They had expected someone to clean this place, and that someone would have to touch water. Maybe that’s why Flint had her doing this and no one else.
Lilith rolled up the sleeves of the robe and set to work. She cleaned all the things she didn’t want to touch and then some.
This definitely wasn’t the faerie king’s bathroom. He would have something much more lavish than this.
“Scaring me off with cleaning,” she muttered as she worked. “Amateur.”
And when she was done, the room looked nothing like it had. The entire space sparkled—if volcanic rock could sparkle. She put her hands on her hips and nodded. A job well done if she said so herself. And she did say so. Lilith wasn’t afraid to give herself compliments when the opportunity arose.
She pounded on the door and called out, “I’m finished!”
“How are you finished already? It’s only been-” He opened the door and stopped mid sentence.
Lilith grinned and gestured around herself. “Never had a vampire work for you, huh?”
“That was quick.” His voice was soft and stunned, just as it should be.
Lilith crossed her arms over her chest and smiled. “Yeah, that’s the thing about vampires. We’re a lot faster than most creatures.”
Sure, she might have been dipping into her reserves of blood a little more than she should have. It was just a bathroom, after all. She could have taken her time and thought about her whole situation. But she didn’t want to think about the situation at all. She wanted to get out of this damned room that smelled like faerie shit.
“Hm,” Flint muttered.
He left the bathroom and flicked his fingers over his shoulder, summoning her to his side like she was the same as all the other servants. Hadn’t she already proved herself?
Grumpy, Lilith followed him to yet another room where he pointed. “Fold all these.”
She peered around him. It was just a bunch of the robes like she currently wore. That’s all. Hundreds upon hundreds of yards of ratty fabric, all strewn about like someone hadn’t cared at all if they got wrinkled.
So the faeries didn’t care if their clothes were folded. Someone dumped them here, the servants came and got their robes in the morning, and then left them at night. No one cared if the servants wore wrinkled uniforms.
But if this was the next test to prove herself, so be it. This time she used even more of the blood, speeding through the room so quickly she doubted Flint could even see her movements. If he could, she would have been impressed.
And when all the clothing was folded, she stood in front of Flint breathing hard. Her body didn’t know how to settle after moving so fast for so long. Every muscle twitched and jittered. She let out a low, steady breath, then spread her arms wide. “Well? Did I pass the test yet?”
He looked at the room beyond and all the folded clothes neatly piled in little stacks. “They go on the shelves.”
Lilith would smack that smug look off his face. “Fine.”
She zipped back through the room and tossed all the robes up onto the shelves. She even took the time to make sure every corner of every pressed fold was perfectly aligned before settling back in place before Flint.
Let him say something bad about what she’d done this time. She dared him. No one could find fault in the perfection she’d just created.
He hummed deep and low in his chest. “You’ll have to do, I suppose.”
“Have to do?” she repeated. “Tell me one servant who can do all the things I just did. Really. I’ll wait. Name one person faster than me.”
“It’s not about speed when you work in the Black Fortress. It’s about accuracy.”
Oh, he wanted to go that route in the argument, did he? She cocked her hip out to the side. “Did you find any flaws in my work?”
He stared down at her with an apathetic look. “I don’t have time to survey your work.”
“So you didn’t.”
“I didn’t look to ensure you were up to my standards, only that you could complete the tasks.” Flint wasn’t budging on his argument, nor did he seem the type to let her think she had won. “A personal servant to the king has the utmost responsibility.”
“And?” She waited for him to continue. “Obviously you have your doubts.”
Once more, he surveyed her from her toes to her head, then turned his nose up in the air. “You must suffice for now because the king has requested you wait upon him. But at the first sight of any transgression or rule breaking, you’ll answer to me.”
Somehow, that didn’t scare her.
Lilith lifted a shoulder. “Personal servant to the King of the Flame. How hard could it be?”
12
Lilith didn’t know how long she worked for the head of staff. Every day it was the same thing. He’d pick some disgusting task for her to complete, and she’d finish with no arguments.
That’s how her routine in the Black Fortress began. She would be shaken awake by the head of staff himself, a severe expression of disappointment on his face, and then she’d go to work. Bathrooms. Gutters. Cleaning out hunks of meat from the sinks. Whatever he wanted her to do.
If this was a test—and she was certain it was a test—then Lilith passed with flying colors. Not once did she complain, even
though she wanted to. Not once did she argue or even fight back. This was to be a game she would win.
And she won.
Every day she returned to the same bunkhouse suite where the servants slept. She got a bottom bunk. She didn’t know if that was better or worse. The faerie who slept above her constantly moved in his sleep, but at least he didn’t drip lava like some others.
It took her a long time to fall asleep whenever she needed to rest. The plopping sound of liquid death kept her awake.
She thought it must have been at least a few weeks in this horrible place when a different person shook her awake. This faerie had a plume of fire for hair and wore sheer garments that hid little of her perky body from the imagination.
“Get up,” she said, shaking Lilith’s shoulders again. “Up!”
Lilith didn’t need as much sleep as these faeries, and she’d only been napping for a few hours every few days. What sleep she got was precious, so she wasn’t happy to be shaken awake like she was some kind of robot. “What do you want?”
“The king is asking for you.”
That got her attention. Lilith’s eyes snapped open, and she sat up so quickly she almost slammed her forehead into the faerie’s. “What does he want with me?”
“You’re to attend the dinner with all the nobles.” The faerie leaned back and crossed her arms over her chest. She looked Lilith up and down, clearly finding her wanting. “I don’t know why he chose you, though.”
Ah, so he normally would choose this little fire faerie to attend him during a dinner. Lilith could see why. She was beautiful and ethereal. A creature who inspired dreams of passionate nights wrapped up in blankets next to a fireplace with roaring flames.
Not that Lilith would ever dream of such things. A dream like that would only end in a nightmare where she caught fire and then had to run screaming out into the fields, burning to a crisp without ever seeing the sun again.
She shuddered. That nightmare used to plague her when she was young.
She sighed and planted her feet on the floor beside the bed. “Okay, attending him at a dinner party. What does that entail?”
The faerie’s lips ticked in a smirk. “Anything he wants, vampiress.”
Right, they all seemed to think that would threaten her. If he wanted her to dance on top of the table and scream the National Anthem, then she would. Every humiliation was one step closer to her goal.
Escape.
She stood, stretched her arms over her head, and yawned. “All right, let’s go then.”
The fire faerie looked her up and down. “Oh no, you can’t attend the king wearing those robes.”
Lilith intended to do exactly that. If he requested her to wait on him, that was fine. But he needed to understand she was limited to zero baths, sulphuric water to rinse the grime off her body, and essentially the same robe every day. She couldn’t be sure if it was, but it sure smelled like it.
Two could play at the game of humiliation. Noble faeries wouldn’t like a servant who reeked like sewer water serving them food.
She grinned at the faerie, whose expression of horror rivaled that of humans when they realized what Lilith really was. Exactly what Lilith was going for.
She shrugged. “I can’t help it. I don’t have other clothing. Besides, this is the outfit he wants me to wear, isn’t it? The clothing of the servants in the Black Fortress.”
The faerie gestured at her own clothing. “I’m also a servant. We have clothes like this.”
“Unless someone wants to wrestle me into that, I’ll attend him in my robes. Thank you very much.” Lilith stared the other woman down.
Let her try to wrestle Lilith. They both knew who would win. It didn’t matter if the faerie had fire for hair, Lilith was stronger, faster, and had a lot more experience in battle. Even the faerie could sense that.
The faerie jabbed a finger at her. “I’m not taking the fall if he doesn’t like this. It has nothing to do with me.”
“No, it really doesn’t.” Lilith followed the faerie through the bunkhouse and out into the hall beyond.
Servants buzzed all around them and Lilith kept her distance. Most were kind enough to stay a healthy distance from Lilith as well, although she wasn’t sure if it was kindness or if they just didn’t like her. Either way, it kept her safe.
The faerie brought her all the way to the kitchens, where she handed Lilith a plate of food. “When you get out there, a lot of faeries will be seated around the table. You are not to look at them. Speak to them. Even acknowledge they are there. Do you hear me?”
She looked down at the bread and honey, wondering where the hell food like this had been the whole time she’d been in the Black Fortress. “Mhm.”
“Vampiress, I need more than a noncommittal noise.”
Lilith rolled her eyes, then met the faerie’s gaze. “Look, I couldn’t give two shits about any of the faeries out there. I don’t want to be here, and I’m just working off a debt. When you say jump, I’ll do it.”
“We’ll see about that.” Her hair burned even brighter as she grew more agitated. “Walk directly to the head of the table where the King of the Flame sits. Place the tray down next to his right elbow, not his left elbow for all the faerie realms. And when you’re done, pick up the torch behind him and hold it up high so he can see his food.”
All of this was a ridiculous amount of work just so the king could make it seem like he was important.
Still, Lilith nodded and let out a hum. “Okay, I can do that.”
“Do not let the torch fall.” The faerie jabbed her finger at Lilith once again. “Don’t.”
“Yeah, I get it. Very important. Torches represent whatever nightmare of a realm he’s made here. It’s not that hard to understand.” She walked backward to the door. “Is that it for the crash course on being his personal meat stick?”
The faerie’s eyes bulged out of her head. “Don’t call yourself that in front of him!”
Lilith flashed a grin. “Why not?”
She kicked the door open and marched through it. The faerie reached for her with an outstretched hand, but it was far too late to catch her. Lilith wasn’t stopping for anyone, not even the faerie whose head might be on the chopping block.
The room beyond was surprisingly modern for a faerie king who hadn’t seen the human realm in ages. A glass table large enough to seat at least thirty people was lit by torches and bowls filled with fiery oil. Every seat was taken up with some kind of faerie who astounded the senses.
One had horns made of lava, somehow held together by magic. He turned his head to watch her with red glowing eyes.
A woman sat with her dress made of fire. The flames licked up her shoulders to create a heart-shaped neckline that was both graceful and disconcerting. Lilith sidestepped far away from that one.
Each faerie was more unusual than the last. And all of them were made of fire in some way. Impossible ways, but Lilith supposed magic could do a lot more than she realized.
Once at the head of the table, she set her plate down on the right side of the faerie king. Just as she was supposed to. He sat stoically listening to one faerie speak.
This one was far more rotund than the others. His stomach glowed underneath his white shirt, like he’d swallowed a ball of light.
“I’m just saying, we need to be harsher on the earth faeries. They created their own realm as well, which is fine and good. But if they sneak into ours just to steal a few buckets of lava, then a deal needs to be made!” He pounded his fist on the table and the glasses shook.
She watched a muscle in the faerie king’s jaw bounce. “What proof do we have that they are stealing from us?”
“I’ve seen them with my own eyes!” The other faerie gestured with his hand and a servant behind him leaned forward. She poured mead into the glass at his left and he swigged it before speaking. Drops of alcohol fell from his mouth down his chin. “They need to be punished, is all I’m saying Drake.”
She w
atched the faerie king stiffen and tucked the information away for later.
So, his name was Drake. Fitting considering his rather awful personality. She’d met a dragon once, before they’d all been killed off by humans. They were a surly lot, but she quite liked them back in the day.
Drake glanced over his shoulder and gestured with his hand.
Did he want something to drink as well? She didn’t even know where to get a jug of mead, let alone what to do with the torch in her hand. She could switch them up and light herself on fire. He’d get his entertainment for the night after all and she’d end up dead.
The faerie servant nearest to her coughed. Lilith flicked her gaze to the creature. He nodded behind her, like there was something she needed to see.
Ah, the mead was in jugs against the wall and tiny slats were hammered into the black lava. She could put her torch there for the time being.
Lilith made quick work of snagging everything she needed and returned to the king’s side. Leaning in close so he could get a good whiff of her body odor, she poured until he flattened his hand.
Good enough. Maybe she was getting the hang of this whole “servant” thing.
As she moved away, he tilted his head to the side, chin toward her.
She hesitated, then bent down. “Yes?”
“Why do you smell like a wet sock?” he asked.
“You don’t have a lot of water in this realm for bathing if you haven’t noticed. I don’t burn off the grime in my sleep.” She smiled sweetly. “All your limited water smells like sulphur.”
He stared into her eyes with so much disapproval it made her skin itch. “Your smell is offensive.”
“Your home is offensive.” She bared her teeth and stepped back. For good measure, she grabbed the torch and held it above his head. Like a good little servant, just as the master wanted.
Maybe when all this was done, she could follow the faerie who had told her where the mead was. That one would be a good ally.
The rotund creature paused in his rant to burst out laughing. The sound grated against her ears, like someone had scraped a rock down a cheese grater.
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