Blood Slave

by Roseau, Robin

  "You're not worthless."

  "I was well paid for a job I was good at. I'll never do that job again, and we both know it. I was moderately well paid for art I will never again produce. I hope you're proud."

  I tried to push away, but she held me tightly.

  "Listen to me," she said. "You promised to listen."

  "If I listen, will you give me what I want?"

  "No."

  I tried shoving her away. "You promised! I see what vampire promises are worth."

  "I promised to help. You promised to come to me, and I promised to help."

  "Let me go!" I yelled, pushing away, but she held me tightly.

  "Listen to me, Melissa. This has been a shock. I've made mistakes. I'm going to make more. Just listen for five minutes."

  Then she relaxed her hold, and I pushed away from her, moving to the other side of the room and trying not to pace.

  "Fine," I said. "But you did this to me. I was such a threat to society, you did this to me in retaliation. I hope you're proud!"

  "I'm not. I didn't think it was that bad. I didn't realize it would hit you this hard. I didn't realize you were this sensitive."

  "You humiliated me. You degraded me. You and all your friends applauded at the artist, now reduced to less than a cow. And then you bled me in front of all of them, bled me until I passed out, and you think I'm being overly sensitive? What? I'm supposed to say, I had it coming? I should thank you for not actually killing me?"

  "I didn't say any of that. Melissa, I was concentrating on preserving your life. I didn't occur to me to concentrate on more than that. And I'm a vampire, with a vampire's thirsts and emotions. Keeping you alive is a fairly significant goal."

  "It's not enough. I do not intend to go through three years of this to come out an empty husk, alive, but nothing else."

  "You won't. I want you to think about something. I could be wrong, but I believe a lot of this is perspective."

  "Oh, so I should have the perspective that I deserve this, and thus it won't upset me so much?"

  "Please, let me finish. If you think of me as a partner-"

  "A partner? Were you insane before you were turned, or is this a byproduct of a long life?"

  "Let me finish!" she thundered. I cowered, then stood up straight, waiting for her to attack. Instead, she stared at me for a moment and lowered her voice. "Please, Melissa, let me finish. That party was about protecting you. I had to treat you cruelly."

  "So you've said. Hogwash."

  "It's not. There are expectations-"

  "Which coincidentally mesh well with your pleasures."

  "I'm not proud of that," she said. "Yes, I gain a certain pleasure from knowing you belong to me. I gain other pleasure from demonstrating it. But I do not gain as much pleasure as I do from looking at your paintings."

  I didn't have a response to that.

  "Can't we be partners in getting you through what is an unfair experience?"

  "So I'm supposed to be your complacent little blood slave, give you your three years of pleasure, and consider it a partnership?"

  "Yes." I opened my mouth to protest, but she held up her hand. "And while there will be aspects of that you will hate, and others that you will barely tolerate, most of the time won't be too bad, and some of the time will be quite pleasant. Which is, I will point out, life, and better life than most people have."

  I didn't have an answer to that.

  "I can't promise you'll ever again paint in your old style. But I promise you'll paint in a style you find meaningful and fulfilling."

  "How can you promise that?"

  "I'll make you several promises. I promise to get you through your sentence. It won't always be easy or pleasant. I will do my best to avoid further damage to you, although there will undoubtedly be some. And I promise that I will make it my life's mission to help you heal afterwards."

  "That's rich. You just told me you're going to continue to abuse me, but hey, I shouldn't mind, because three years from now you're going to make a sudden reverse in your behavior and turn nurturing."

  She moved closer, crouching down slightly to move her eyes in front of my gaze. "You will heal."

  I studied her for a while.

  "If I do not, then you will give me the death I crave, and you will create a gallery, and you will take every one of my beautiful pieces you have, and you will move them to the gallery, open to the public, all day and all night, and you will keep the gallery open for the rest of your days. You will share my beauty with the world and will no longer hoard any of it here."

  She barely blinked, "Agreed."

  "If you destroy me before the three years, you will give me the gallery."

  "Agreed."

  "Your other promises to me are still in force."

  "Agreed."

  "The gallery will have none of my ugly pieces."

  "No. There will be a separate room, and it will be the choice of the patrons whether they visit or not."

  "None of the ugliness will be visible from the beauty."

  "Agreed."

  "I have not earned the paint. I want charcoal."

  "What else?"

  "More paper."

  "All you can use."

  "Permission to draw outside. While dressed."

  "You will remain on the property and have your tablet with you. You will tell someone when you are going outside, and your tablet will have options to report where you are."

  "I need a box to carry my supplies."

  "I have one for you."

  "When I earn my paint, I do not want to paint in my room. Is there somewhere else?"

  "Yes."

  I stared at her. I was still angry, but even more so, I was terribly afraid.

  "I hurt, m'lady," I said. "It's like my soul is torn into shreds. I want it to stop hurting." I brushed the tears away.

  She stepped closer and caressed my cheek. "I know," she said gently. "And I know it's my fault. I'm so sorry."

  I didn't know if I believed her. She seemed so earnest, but she'd had hundreds of years learning how to fool people. She'd spent hundreds of years fooling humanity, hiding who she was. And I knew I'd been sheltered and naïve.

  "Your soul will heal," she said. "I promise, Melissa. It may take time, but it will heal."

  I stared into her eyes, challenging her to glamour me. Instead, she stepped so closely our bodies touched, and she kissed my forehead. Then she whispered into my ear, "You are more important than you realize. I think you are more important than I realize. Please hold on, Melissa. The world needs you."

  She leaned away from me, and I searched her face. She smiled softly, and I nodded.

  "I am your blood slave. I am your property. I live to serve you." I lowered myself to my knees in front of her.

  She stepped behind me, bent my head back, and leaned over. She licked twice before slowly driving her fangs into my neck, licking as she did so.

  The pleasure was dark and exquisite, and I moaned.

  Ugliness and Pain

  In the morning I found, waiting for me, a metal toolbox. I released the latch, and the top fell open to two sides, each side filled with drawers. It was filled with pencils of every type on one side, charcoal on the other. There were a variety of erasers and the other tools of drawing with pencil and charcoal.

  Underneath the toolbox were six fresh drawing pads and six sketchpads.

  With it all was a note. "If these are wrong, I will take you to the store myself. Otherwise if you run low of anything, tell Maria."

  I showered, and breakfast was waiting when I was done. I ate, and then I took the note she had left me. I turned it over and wrote down, "A mirror, as big as I can carry around inside or take outside with me without assistance, with a way to set it up and aim it. An outside chair I can move myself. A tarp I can spread out when I draw inside, so I don't ruin your furniture." I added a few more things, then I walked down the hallway to her bedroom and slipped the note under the door.


  I returned to my own room. I took the charcoals and a sketchpad and moved to the bathroom. I began doing studies. I spent the morning at it. Lunch arrived, and I was still standing in front of the mirror, papers spread all over the bathroom. I heard Maria and then she called for me.

  "Don't come in!" I said hastily. I fled from the bathroom, closing the door.

  She eyed me carefully. "Are you doing anything you shouldn't?"

  "No. But you can't see. If you distrust me, report me to the lady, and she can watch on her cameras."

  "No," she said. "You wouldn't lie to me, because you know how much trouble I'd be in."

  "No, I wouldn't lie, because I don't lie."

  "The lady told me to remind you that your body requires exercise."

  "All right. Is the lady available this afternoon?"

  "No, but she hopes to enjoy movie night."

  "Will you and your daughter join us?"

  "The lady suggested I invite my daughter's friends."

  "All right. I feel a chill coming on. I'm sure I'm going to be wrapped in a blanket."

  She laughed. "You can try that. She may let you get away with it, but you'll feel guilty about it and won't be able to enjoy the movie as much."

  "Are you married?"

  "No. I was, once."

  "What happened?"

  "He wasn't prepared for fatherhood."

  "His loss. She's a lovely young woman. Does he see her?"

  "No. Lady Dunn paid him off to leave us alone. He was abusive. We have been here since. Ashlyn was two years old."

  I nodded understanding. "I will eat, draw a little while longer-"

  She began to smile. "You were drawing?"

  I sighed. "You can't see. Don't ask."

  "I won't. Will you show me when you're done?"

  "No. But I will not mind if the lady shows you when I am not around."

  "I was wondering. Would you draw Ashlyn?"

  "No!"

  She backed away a step, holding up her hands. "I'm sorry. I didn't realize-"

  "No, I am sorry. When you see what I draw, you will understand. I can't explain."

  "I've seen your paintings, and the drawing you did of the lady. That's beautiful."

  "You will understand when you see. You would not want me to draw Ashlyn."

  "All right."

  But she was upset, and she left without another word.

  * * * *

  I exercised for two hours, took a long shower, then returned to my room. I collected all the sketches I had done, and then I knew what I was going to do. I moved back to the bathroom, this time with a drawing pad, and I began to draw.

  I was still drawing when the lady spoke from behind me. "Are you all right?"

  I closed the pad and turned around. "Did you look at the sketches?"

  "Yes. Wasn't I supposed to?"

  "No. You must not look at any more sketches. You may have only the final drawings. You are now my patron, and the patron does not see the intermediate steps. Ever."

  "All right, but if you leave them about, what am I to do? We need an answer that does not prevent me from accessing my blood slave."

  "If you see them incidentally, it is my fault, but if you paw through them, it is yours."

  She nodded. "The movie room may be a little chilly. We'll have blankets. Do you mind letting the girls pick the movies?"

  I crossed the room to her and sank to my knees, wrapping my arms around her. "Thank you."

  She caressed my head.

  "I am your blood slave, Lady Dunn."

  "Yes, but perhaps you are also my friend."

  I looked up. "Perhaps."

  "You will still be leashed."

  "Is it time to go?"

  "I brought your dinner."

  "Now you wait on me?"

  "I fed you by hand. I think I can carry you a meal."

  She helped me to my feet, and I saw there was a new chair waiting for me.

  "I'm sorry I destroyed the old one."

  "It was cathartic, was it not?"

  I smiled. "Perhaps. I wasn't looking for catharsis when I did it."

  "The other things you requested are in the hall. Your room would get crowded, but you may store them where I left them. The outside chair is waiting on the patio as you step out. You may need to take more than one trip to arrange things to your satisfaction."

  "Am I odorous?"

  She laughed. "No."

  "Sometimes I lose all my social skills when I draw."

  "I will tell you if you do. Sit. Eat."

  She held the chair for me, and I sat at the little table. She talked about inconsequential things while I had dinner, and when I was done, she clipped the leash to my lip. She gave it a small tug, and I followed her, but then I said, "Wait, please." I grabbed a sketchpad, a drawing pad and the toolbox. "Ready."

  The theater was full when we arrived. Maria, Ashlyn, and her four friends were all waiting for us.

  "I'll make popcorn later," Maria said, "but everyone just ate."

  The lady drew me towards the sofa, but then she collected a blanket and wrapped it around me. She took the end and pulled me down next to her, leaning against her. I snuggled against her. A moment later, Ashlyn gave me my movie drink of choice, and the lady had a glass of blood. The girls collected their favorites, and then we all sat down, staring at the blank screen.

  "I love this one," I said after a moment. "It's such a dark comedy."

  "Do I have to do everything?" Lady Dunn asked.

  "We couldn't pick," Tamara said.

  "Everyone pick a favorite star," said the lady. "I know yours, blood slave."

  "You knew I loved Myrna Loy?"

  "She and I were friends," the lady said.

  "Who is Myrna Loy?" Bonnie asked.

  "That's my vote," I said. "I've seen the Thin Man movies multiple times, but the others not so many."

  "Love Crazy or Cheaper by the Dozen then," the lady said.

  "The kids are going to hate them," I said. "Let them pick, we adults get veto power."

  "They get three tries," the lady said, "and if they can't pick something appropriate, it's Love Crazy."

  The five of them climbed to their feet and disappeared into the movie closet.

  "Three minutes or I'm picking," called out the lady.

  "Such a fierce vampire," I said. "Subject to the whims of a group of teenagers."

  By some process, they each picked a movie that the rest of them could live with, bringing them to stand in a row in front of the sofa, holding their movies out. I didn't particularly care and chose to offer no veto. Maria vetoed her own daughter's choice, and the lady sat quietly for a minute before vetoing Tamara's choice.

  "Melissa, You have to veto one," Ashlyn said. "Then we'll have our two."

  "No," I said. "The blood slave doesn't have that right. It was wrong of me to suggest it."

  "Then because Ashlyn and Tamara's choices were vetoed, they should each pick one from the remaining movies," declared the lady.

  I was surprised the lady allowed a teen romance novel. It was sweet and funny, if hopelessly naïve. I sat through half the movie then, when we paused for Maria to make popcorn, I turned to my mistress.

  "Will you be angry if I move to another chair and draw?"

  "It's movie night."

  I didn't say anything, but a minute later she said, "Of course I won't. Will you allow me to see?"

  "No. And you mustn't let the girls look. Maybe this is a poor idea."

  "They won't look."

  And so I moved to another chair, taking the blanket with me. I began sketching immediately, the lady with her glass of blood, the sofa, the room. They were quick sketches; I wouldn't need too many details.

  The girls returned, clustered around Maria. They were surprised to see I had moved.

  "There is a new household rule. No one looks at Melissa's drawings without her permission. She has not offered permission tonight. She has earned the privilege of this privacy."
/>   I looked at her, and I knew my eyes held gratitude. She smiled for a moment.

  "Lady Dunn," I said, "when I am done, the final pieces are yours. I do not mind if others see them. I will watch your reaction, but I do not want to be present when anyone else sees them. Once you take them, I do not want to see them again. I hope you will keep them somewhere I am not allowed, and that you do not tell me where."

  "You all heard her," Lady Dunn said, and there were nods.

  "Thank you, m'lady."

  They resumed the movie. I watched for a few minutes, occasionally eating from my bowl of popcorn, but then I began sketching again. I drew the girls, taking more time with each, and Maria too. I got up and moved to another chair, doing more sketches. And then I moved behind them and did even more sketches.

  The movie ended, and everyone got up to stretch for a minute before putting in the next movie. Maria asked if she should make fresh popcorn, but the girls asked for a pizza. "Order one," the lady said. "Or two." She turned to me. "What do you like on your pizza?"

  I raised my head to look at her. I just shook my head and went back to sketching.

  I waited until they settled down again, and I switched to the drawing paper. There are subtle differences between the sketch paper and drawing paper. The latter is typically heavier, is made of more expensive paper, and you can get a variety of surface textures. I didn't know how she had done it, but Lady Dunn had acquired my preferred style of both papers. I never asked her how that was.

  They started the movie, and I began drawing more carefully. I drew the lady on the sofa, and then I added myself, draped across her lap, my head thrown back, the lady bent over, drinking from my neck. Her hand was wrapped in the leash, and the blanket was half open, exposing me to the world.

  The pizza arrived. I salivated at the smell and looked longingly at it. Ashlyn asked if I were allowed any.

  "Yes," said Lady Dunn. "Whatever she likes."

  I looked up. "If you didn't think I was vulnerable and fragile, would you allow such a departure from my tightly-controlled diet?"

  She frowned. "No, my blood slave will be eating no pizza."

  I looked at the pizza and felt tears in my eyes. Tears, over a pizza, and it was my own fault I wasn't having any. But I didn't want her pity anymore. I didn't want privileges I hadn't earned. I was her blood slave, and I expected to be treated like it.