Dissension 1

by Katie Salidas

  “You got yourself a Patron, dearie.”

  Olivia must have mistaken her gasp as a sign of fright because she cackled loud enough to wake George in the cell next to her.

  He really followed through? Fear was the farthest thing from her mind. She’d service anyone she had to in order to get a little comfort at this point. No, shock had stolen her ability to express anything at that moment. Mira couldn’t believe the Elite had actually followed through. There had to be something she was missing, some angle, some reason. Humans never did anything nice… not without an ulterior motive.

  “And a rich one at that. So, you had better be on your best behavior and do whatever he wants. And I do mean anything that he wants, whatever, wherever, and however. Do you hear me?”

  Mira heard her all right, and more than that, she heard the dollar signs in her Owner’s voice. “He’s called for you to meet him later tonight, so I need to have you prepped and ready.” That brought another wicked smile to her Owner’s face.

  Mira wasn’t sure what being prepped entailed, but it couldn’t be any worse than the lightbox. “Bring on your worst.”

  “I was hoping you’d say that.”

  Chapter 7

  Escorted by her two handlers, with Olivia leading the way, Mira was ushered to a place referred to affectionately by George as the ‘spa.’

  The inside of the spa was a place Mira had never before earned the privilege of seeing. She’d expected it to look lavish. George had made it sound positively magical, but other than the strange stations with equipment she couldn’t imagine the uses for, the place was just as dreary as the rest of the prison. Flat gray walls, black and white tile floors, and thick steel doors at the entrance and exit. Curiously, there was one door — more like a window — in the back corner of the room that was not steel like the rest. It was made of a thick pane of glass and led into a small room completely covered in tile, just big enough for a single person to stand in.

  She’d never seen such an odd space.

  The butt of a UV torch hit her in the back. “Move,” the handler ordered.

  A woman dressed in a skin-tight black full body suit sauntered up to Olivia. She looked down at her clipboard and ran a long red manicured fingernail down the page. “You’re the works, right?”

  Olivia smirked at Mira before answering. “I want her showered, plucked, shaved, trimmed, and for the love of god, do something with those nails. She has a wealthy Patron to impress.”

  “You heard the client. Get this leech ready to be presented to her Patron.” She snapped her fingers, and two other humans, females in matching black body suits, appeared seemingly out of thin air and rushed forward.

  A shiver of fear raced down Mira’s spine. Torture she could endure, even if that meant more time in the lightbox, but this “works” treatment her Owner had ordered — waxing, plucking, nails, and whatever else it entailed — scared the hell out of her.

  Without another word, her dirty tunic was ripped from her body and tossed aside like the garbage it was.

  Mira had to fight the instinct to lash out at the trio of women stripping her down and scrutinizing her naked body. She’d love to wipe their smug expressions right off their pretty little faces. Perhaps rip out their tightly braided ponytails and strangle them; but she knew she’d never get away with it. She’d just have to ignore their taunts and whispered comments about her filthy condition.

  Once the trio was done inspecting her, they ushered her toward the strange tile room. “We’ll have her washed and ready by seven this evening,” Mira heard one say as the glass door opened and she was pushed inside.

  A low clicking sound ran up the walls seconds before the jets began. Hot water and steam assaulted her from every angle. The initial shock and hot sting subsided and Mira relaxed, letting the water wash away the grime. Showers were a luxury only afforded to vampires with additional funding, something she’d never earned. Until now, bathing for her had consisted of a lukewarm bucket of water and a rag.

  Another set of clicks ran up the wall behind the tiles and the spray turned soapy. It foamed on her skin, carrying a subtle hint of orange blossom and citrus, a smell that reminded her of the orange groves that had grown near her home as a human. The foam seemed to expand on her skin, growing as it if it were feeding on the dirt clinging to her body. The sensation was shocking and intriguing at the same time. She could see why George enjoyed coming to this place. They might have been rude, but this shower alone made up for it. Never before had she felt so pampered.

  Another click, and the deliciously hot water returned and melted away the foamy bubbles encasing her body. The water not only took with it the dirt and grime, but melted away some of the stress and tension in her body. Try as she might, it was hard to remain alert and on edge while the heat and pressure of the water worked its magic on her muscles.

  When the shower finished, hot air filled the chamber, blowing like a cyclone in the small room. Shocking and sudden, it startled Mira, but just like with the water, the heat of the wind had a soothing effect that made it hard for her to remain on edge. She took a breath and let the warm air do its thing and dry the beads of water from her body.

  Just when she thought she was finished in the shower, one final jet gently spritzed some kind of citrus-scented oil on her.

  The clicks behind the tile stopped, and the glass door opened by itself. Mira turned and stepped out of the box, making no attempt to cover herself, and awaited her next instruction.

  A wicked smile played in her Owner’s sharp features. “Well, now, at least you don’t stink. But you’re far from ready to present to your Patron.” She turned to the trio of women. “I’ll be back at seven to retrieve her.” Not waiting for confirmation, she and the two handlers walked out through the steel doors.

  The shower had been quite refreshing, Mira thought. She hoped the rest of these treatments would be just as pleasant. George had spoken highly of this place. Perhaps it was not as bad as she feared.

  “What’s next?” Mira asked.

  One of the trio of women held up a jar of melted wax. “Hair removal.”

  The unusually eager way she said it stole away Mira’s feelings of relaxation and contentment. This, she knew, would not be as nice as the shower had been.

  Hours later, plucked, tweezed, waxed, and threaded, Mira had endured the removal of every hair on her body. What hair remained, on top of her head, had been washed, cut, and styled so that her short hair framed around her face. Rather than the tunic and linen pants she was accustomed to wearing, Mira had been given a proper dress. Knee-length, the black and pink sheath dress felt unbelievably soft. Nothing like what she was used to wearing. They’d even given her shoes to wear. Those, however, were not as comfortable as her sandals had been. Tight and toe-pinching, these shoes had heels that made her feel as if she was walking on stilts. If you could call what she was doing ‘walking’ – more like trying hard not to fall with each wobbly step she took.

  By the time Olivia returned to retrieve her, Mira was almost unrecognizable.

  “That’ll do,” Olivia said, with no hint as to whether or not she actually approved. “Let’s get you moving.”

  Chapter 8

  Up an unfamiliar flight of stairs, Mira, her Owner, and the two handlers exited into a brightly lit lobby. Unlike other places Mira had been before, this place radiated an almost cheerful nature. Warm and inviting compared to the drab gray of the prisons, Mira felt as if she had entered a whole new world. Colors she’d forgotten existed were splashed all over paintings adorning the russet-colored walls. Crisp white trim framed the doorways. Comfortable-looking wingback chairs flanked a set of elevator doors that had been polished to a mirror-like finish.

  As if to remind Mira of her place, one of the handlers nudged her a little too harshly with the butt of his UV torch. “Quit gawking. Move.”

  Olivia took the lead, heading straight to the polished steel elevator doors. She pressed the button, which illuminated to a brig
ht orangey-red. “Your Patron keeps you in luxury. Remember this. If you so much as annoy him in any way, I’ll send you to the lightbox for a week.”

  “Got it,” Mira said, with as much enthusiasm as she could muster. She knew what she had to do and didn’t need the reminder. She would do whatever was needed to keep herself alive and hopefully give herself another chance to make an escape. Even as they entered the elevator and exited on the top floor, Mira was paying close attention to every detail, looking for ways out, making sure she remembered exactly how they got to and from all of the new places she’d seen this day.

  The hallway they entered was just as warm and inviting as the lobby they’d left. At the end of the hall sat a large mirror. Mira had not yet seen herself after she’d been cleaned. In truth, it had been years since Mira had seen a real reflection. She’d seen images of herself on the big screen in the arena, covered in blood and gore, but nothing like this, a close up, clear look at herself. She hardly recognized the woman staring back at her. Her face, her eyes, her hair – everything was so alien. What was most disturbing though was that in this light, she almost looked human. All the makeup they’d slathered on her covered up the pale skin and the bruised-looking bags under her eyes. Even her hair seemed to have an unnatural glow to its raven color. She supposed that was to make her more presentable to humans, but it made her feel a little like a clown.

  The handlers escorted her to the doorway of her Patron’s suite.

  Olivia gave Mira a quick once over, nodding approvingly, before pressing the doorbell.

  When the doors parted, Mira met the muted green eyes of the man who’d thwarted her escape attempt the previous day. The Regent. The most powerful man in the city. And her new Patron. The irony of it almost made her laugh.

  “Leave her with me.” His voice was confident, his smile seductive. The little quirk up at the corner of his lips gave his entire face an impish quality. He might be an attractive man, if Mira were attracted to humans. But that was a moot point. He was her Patron, and she’d have to do whatever it was he wanted of her, attraction or no.

  “She’s a skilled warrior, sir,” one of the handlers replied. “Quite dangerous.”

  “She knows what’s good for her. This little treat will not harm me,” her Patron replied.

  Mira sneered at the way he called her a treat. Like she was some little plaything, no more real than a doll. Of course, that was probably closer to the truth now than anything else, dressed up as she was. She’d been giftwrapped for him like some present for New Year Jubilee.

  “I’ll leave my guards at your door. Call if you need anything,” Olivia replied and bowed low, respectfully, to her Regent.

  “You’ll hear from me when I need you.” He reached out, grasping Mira by the arm in the same way he’d done the previous day, and pulled her into his room.

  The automatic door shut behind her with a soft click.

  The Regent released her and walked further into the suite. “Come. Mira, right?”

  He damn well knew her name, why was he playing?

  “Sit, relax. Please.” He indicated to a plush couch in the center of the room. “Would you care for refreshment?”

  “What is your game?” Mira had no patience for pleasantries.

  “I thought we could continue our chat from yesterday, with a little more privacy.” The Regent unbuttoned the jacket of his purple suit and laid it carefully on the arm of the couch.

  The thought of what was sure to come curled Mira’s lips. She tried to hide it, remembering what her Owner had warned, but couldn’t quite cloak the contempt in her voice. “Why? What do you want from me? Why are you playing nice?”

  “Easy now, Mira.” He held his hands out as if to emphasize the calm in his voice. “I want nothing from you but a chat. You’re a curiosity. I want to know more about you.”

  “Why, so you can exploit me and my kind later?”

  “So I can understand.” Impatience began to overtake his congenial tone.

  “Understand what?”

  “To get right to the point, then: I want to know how a blood savage can show so much humanity.”

  “Humanity?” Mira laughed at the word. “Humans are the savages. Look at how you treat my kind.”

  “Kill or be killed, Mira. Survival…”

  Forgetting for a moment that she was supposed to keep her Patron happy, Mira yelled, “Don’t feed me that bullshit.” Almost shaking with rage, she stopped herself from advancing on him and doing something she might regret. “My kind are no more murderous than yours, and yet we’re the ones behind bars, tortured, forced to perform like dancing monkeys. Forced to kill our own kind… at your command!”

  Seemingly unfazed by her emotional outburst, he responded, “You drink blood…”

  “Yes. Because that’s the only thing we can stomach. What’s your excuse for spilling so much?”

  “We’re getting off on the wrong foot here. Let’s calm down.” He set himself down smoothly onto the end of the couch. “This is exactly why I wanted you here. I feel as if I may be misinformed about many things, especially your… species. I would like the opportunity to know more. To understand. Please…” He patted the spot next to him. “Enlighten me.”

  Wary of what his true motives were, Mira had no choice but to indulge his questions. She had to play the game, as George had so often told her. Walking to the couch to take her seat, Mira glanced around, noting all of the windows and doors in the room. What few there were. The suite itself, though opulent, was cozy. The sitting room appeared to make up the bulk of it. A small door off to her left must have been the bedroom area, as she saw no other door except for the one through which she’d entered.

  A smallish curtained window sat above a computer-generated fireplace. Hardly big enough to afford a decent view, it didn’t appear to open, either. Certainly not big enough to use for any type of escape. Even if it had been, they were ten floors up. A jump from that height would most certainly result in broken bones, and she wasn’t so sure she’d be able to heal fast enough to make a break for it. The place was probably swarming with guards and handlers too. Hope of escape from this room was slim to none.

  “Fine. What do I call you? Patron, Regent, Grand High Poobah, what?” She set herself heavily down on the couch and almost sprang back up from the bounciness of the cushion.

  “Where are my manners? Lucian Stavros.” He stood and bowed. Mira found such a show of respect odd. She still questioned his motives, but at least he was playing his part well enough to be almost believable.

  “Do you need anything for refreshment?” His voice was hesitant.

  “You already know the answer to that. No. I’m fine.”

  “The suite is fully stocked for all needs.” His confidence wavered enough for Mira to catch the worried look in his green eyes. I am quite sure there is a supply of… blood for you here.”

  “No. I’m fine. Let’s just get this over with.”

  Lucian took his seat and smoothed out his purple suit pants. He took a deep, almost calming breath before speaking. “I do not wish to use you, Mira. I know you don’t believe me. Can we please just talk?”

  Whether he admitted it or not, he was using her. Information, sex, whatever his pleasure, his only reason for having her here was to serve his needs. No matter how politely he was doing it. Mira was not about to forget that. She’d give him only what she had to and nothing more.

  “Whatever you need of me, sir.” Mira’s reply was cold, emotionless.

  He smiled politely. “Well, let’s start simply with your history. Tell me. How long have you been in the system?”

  “Longer than I care to remember.”

  “And have you been a gladiator the entire time?”

  “Yes.”

  “Do you enjoy it?”

  “No.” What kind of a question was that? How could she take any pleasure from having to fight and kill her kind? Humans were either truly savage or clueless.

  “Of course not. Ho
w rude of me to ask. Were you ever offered any other jobs?”

  “I was not suited to anything else.”

  “Why not? You’re a vampire, certainly strong enough to work other jobs.”

  “My attitude says otherwise.”

  “I’m beginning to understand that.”

  “What is that supposed to mean?”

  “Well, you’re not being very cooperative or pleasant.”

  “Why should I be? I’m a slave. I’m being used every day to serve the desires of humans. Even now, you’re only interested in what information I can provide. Call it what you will. Put your positive spin on it, but all you’re doing is using me to indulge your morbid curiosity. Don’t expect me to be all cheerful about it.”

  “I may be curious, yes, but have you considered that the information you provide might actually help you? I’m in a position to not only make your life better, but also the lives of your kind too. I am the Regent.”

  She hated that he had a very good point, but also doubted he would actually do anything to aid in the better treatment of her kind. Mira reminded herself again that he was her Patron. She really shouldn’t piss him off. “Apologies, Regent. Please ask your questions.”

  He didn’t look convinced by her change of tone, but continued. “Okay. What did you do before you… ah... came to us?”

  Like she was going to tell him that. Now she understood his true motivation. He wanted, like others before him, to know about the safe haven.

  “I lived.”

  “And how long have you been a vampire?”

  “Longer than I can remember.”

  He sighed in frustration and stood. “This works better when you actually participate in the conversation.”

  “See, that’s the problem. Other than to save my own skin by not pissing you off too much, Patron, I don’t have a reason to do that.”