Blood Slave

by Roseau, Robin

  "What time are we leaving?"

  "Three. You will need some time to prepare."

  "Not so long."

  She smiled knowingly.

  "Did you care for a little exercise?" I asked her. "I believe I must get serious about my racquetball again."

  "I believe you are correct." She led the way to the gym after my lunch was over. I played poorly, but it felt good to play. I apologized for my poor play, but she didn't appear upset by it.

  After my shower, she sent me to my room and said she would be along shortly. "See to your appearance," she said. "I wish you to look vibrant and healthy."

  "Yes, m'lady."

  Ten minutes later, she stood in my bathroom doorway watching me. I startled when she spoke, as, of course, I had neither heard her approach nor saw her reflection in the mirror. I turned around, my hand pressed to my chest. "You could make a little noise, you know."

  "I am sorry."

  She didn't look sorry, but she held out a garment bag to me. "Something for you to wear today."

  "Such a big garment bag for the skimpy strip of material it contains," I said.

  "Perhaps you should see it before you judge." She retreated from the bathroom, holding the garment bag in front of her. I stepped after her and unzipped the bag.

  A simple white dress spilled out. I would not have called it prim, but it was the sort of dress I could have worn in front of my mother without being self-conscious.

  "M'lady?"

  "I wish you to wear this today," she said. "And I will not leash you."

  "What's going on?"

  "Nothing. This is what you will wear. There are under garments, stockings and shoes. I know not everyone wears stockings these days, but I am old-fashioned."

  She insisted on dressing me, which wasn't unusual. I stood in one place, inserting this body part or that as necessary, and soon I was zipped, my feet in a low pair of surprisingly comfortable shoes.

  It all felt very strange. I checked my appearance in the mirror. "I feel like I am going to visit my grandmother." I turned to her.

  "You look very innocent," she replied, "in marked contrast to the paintings."

  "Are you going to tell me the games you're playing? I know there are games, but I don't understand them."

  "I wouldn't say games, Melissa. I am not doing anything to hurt you."

  "When was my latest need for a transfusion?" I asked her.

  "That's not what I meant, and I apologized." She looked at me sternly. "Please do not push my buttons today. You can go back to it tomorrow if you are in the mood."

  "All right. I love the dress. I don't understand why you're letting me wear it, but I love it. Do you think I look nice?"

  "I do. I will be proud to have you on my arm."

  "Are you taking me somewhere?"

  "Only to Madame Cathalina's, but there is a, well, a reception, after you have unveiled the painting to us."

  "Not a public showing!"

  "No, and nothing to worry you. I will tell you now: you must be discrete. You must not talk about your life as a blood slave."

  "I don't understand."

  "Just remember my words. I will be listening, and I will end the evening if you begin to share things I do not wish you to share."

  "I don't understand."

  "I know. Are you ready? Did you need to bring anything?"

  "No. Everything is there."

  I stepped closer. "I'm nervous."

  "Don't be."

  "Maybe you should have a tiny taste." I grinned at her.

  "I might drip on your dress."

  "You never drip."

  "Today you are an artist. I am your patron."

  "All right. Do I hold my patron's arm?"

  "Yes." But she took my arm instead, leading me from the house. She wrapped me in a coat and gloves then led me out the door to her car, handing me in.

  During the drive, she kept the conversation light, telling me amusing stories from past centuries. She casually mentioned events I had heard of only from the history books, and I found her fascinating. I appreciated what she was doing as well, setting me at ease. I truly was nervous.

  We came to a stop, and I turned to face Madame Cathalina's house. "Will you come to the unveiling?"

  "She wants to see it first without me."

  "What if she hates it?"

  "If she hates it so badly you need protection, I couldn't stop her. But I have known her for centuries, and I have never seen her lose control of her temper. Unlike me. She will not hurt you."

  "What if-"

  "What if she loves it? She's going to love it, Melissa. It is brilliant."

  "You saw it half finished. There were details you didn't see, important details."

  "It is so much more than she is expecting, and she is going to be stunned. Has she told you how old she is?"

  "She said she was young before Caesar's time."

  "Yes. Can you imagine what it takes to surprise someone of her years?"

  "I surprise you all the time. I should be able to surprise her at least now and then."

  My lady smiled at me. "I have held myself somewhat aloof from humanity. She has lived amongst you most of her years."

  "Have the two of you become friends?"

  "Yes, because of you. Vampires do not make friends easily, but I believe she and I are friends now, or at least friendlier than we were."

  "Well, that is good," I said.

  "You know she's waiting for us. Are you ready?"

  I nodded, took a breath, and stepped from the car. An instant later, my lady was next to me, taking my arm, and the moment we made a step towards the door, it opened. Cathalina herself was waiting for us.

  "Come, come," she said. "I am so anxious. I thought you were never going to get out of the car. Lady Dunn, do you mind if I carry her? I cannot wait a moment longer."

  My lady chuckled. "I believe her stomach would not survive the trip. She is concerned you will hate it."

  "I do not believe I will," Madame said. "There are refreshments waiting for you in the ballroom. I will call for you when we are ready for you to join us."

  And with that, I was passed off like a debutante on a dance floor. My lady kissed my cheek and stepped away, and then Cathalina was leading me through her house.

  "You look lovely," she said.

  "Thank you. I suppose if I ask what's going on, you'll be as forthcoming as my mistress."

  "Probably even less so. I will tell you that you will receive your payment today."

  "Will I like it?"

  "Yes."

  "Then I thank you."

  We stepped outside and walked along the pathway to the studio.

  "I am going to leave the studio the way it is for the foreseeable future," she said. "Remember what we talked about some months ago. And perhaps there will be more commissions."

  "That is kind. I don't know if I can think about that right now."

  "I want to tell you something else. If you are ever in need, you may call upon me. If I can help you, I will."

  "May I ask? Did Malakai like the drawing?"

  "No one likes your newest art, Melissa. But they appreciate and covet it. Malakai is pleased he was the winning bidder, and my little foundation thanks you for your contribution."

  "A little time, a little blood. It is nothing compared to the donations of others."

  "You gave. It was an important gesture."

  I pulled her to a stop, the studio within sight.

  "You just told me something important, but I don't know what."

  "And I will not explain. Now, you must not delay me. I have waited months for this day, and while my patience is long, it is not infinite." She tugged on my arm, and I stepped forward again. It wasn't like I had a choice.

  We stepped into the studio. I shrugged out of my coat, hanging it up, then checked in and adjusted the lights and heat. Cathalina smirked at me. "Making sure your mistress knows where you are?"

  "If I keep it auto
matic, then I don't make mistakes. I believe I've been sufficiently punished for unintentional actions."

  "I'm sorry, I shouldn't tease."

  "I'm sorry, I should be over it." I looked at her. I hadn't thought of how to do the unveiling. Normally the piece would be ready, hanging on the wall, covered.

  "We must do this properly," I said. "I need you to either go in the kitchen or close your eyes while I prepare."

  "I will turn my back and close my eyes," she said. "Where shall I stand?"

  I moved into place. I had prepared hooks to hang the paintings yesterday. I positioned her, her back turned, and said, "Please do not peek."

  "I shall not."

  I retrieved the paintings, the center one first, and placed it on the wall, then the other two. I adjusted them, checking them carefully. I backed up, judging the proper viewing distance, and decided to move her two steps closer.

  "Are your eyes closed?"

  "Yes."

  "I am going to turn you, and then you may open." I used my hands on her arms, turning her to face the proper direction, then I stepped so I was not blocking the paintings but where I could watch her reaction. "Whenever you're ready."

  She paused a moment before slowly opening her eyes. Then she stared, rock still, for a good fifteen seconds.

  She surprised me when tears appeared in her eyes and began to slide down her cheeks. I stepped forward and caught the blood on my fingers.

  "You did a triptych," she said quietly. "I asked for a portrait and you did a triptych."

  "I couldn't possibly give you what you wanted in a single panel," I said. "I couldn't have done you justice. This is what I saw."

  She stepped closer.

  "Dianthe," she whispered. Her daughter's name. "She is with Athena now."

  "She is," I said.

  The left panel was Cathalina when she was living. It depicted her and her daughter with Athena watching over both of them. The right panel was Cathalina being turned to a vampire. The center was modern. It depicted Cathalina, and she was powerful and fearsome. Her fangs were dripping blood, and in her hand she held a human heart. But behind her, ghostly, barely visible, stood Athena, shielding Cathalina's daughter. I'd tried to make it look like they were very saddened, but inviting at the same time.

  "She waits for you," I said.

  "I am bound for Hades," she said.

  "You are hers, and you remain hers," I countered. "She may not be able to help you right now, but she watches over you, and some day you shall see her."

  Only the leftmost painting was at all "beautiful," and it wasn't exactly beautiful. There were storm clouds on the horizon, a hint of what was to come, and the piece alone would not have told a story and wouldn't be worthy of display. The other two pieces were horrible, in keeping of what I had become. But I knew it was right. I guess I knew it when I had created them, but seeing her reaction, I knew it was right.

  She stepped closer, and I moved with her, watching her.

  "So delicate," she said, reaching out, but not quite touching. "Is it safe?"

  "If you are gentle. It will grow more firm over the next few weeks."

  She brushed her daughter very gently, and then kissed her fingers dryly and placed them over Athena's visage.

  She turned to me. "You have treated my daughter and my goddess with a great deal of respect. Thank you, Melissa Walsh."

  "For this, I am perhaps Grace Faire."

  "Then thank you, Grace Faire."

  "You are welcome. I have not signed them yet. Did you wish it in blood?"

  "I-" she paused. "Yes, but only with approval from your mistress."

  "Did you wish to be alone with this for a while?"

  "I will return later. Let us call your mistress to join us. How much of this has she seen?"

  "She knew it was a triptych. There is quite a bit she hasn't seen."

  Cathalina withdrew her phone, paused, and then said, "You may join us." Ten seconds later, Lady Dunn entered the studio.

  "That always surprises me," I said. "Now stop right there." I closed the distance and said, "Please close your eyes and give me your hands."

  She did, smiling at me. I took her hands and led her forward, turning her to face the paintings. Cathalina moved back to stand next to my mistress, and then I stepped out of the way so I could watch her reaction.

  "Open."

  She stared for several seconds, glanced at me, then returned her gaze to the paintings.

  "Madame Cathalina? Are you satisfied with the work from my blood slave?"

  "Beyond satisfied. I have not shed a tear in three centuries until today."

  "Will either of you tell me who the other two are?"

  Cathalina stepped forward. "This is Dianthe, my daughter. And Athena, my goddess."

  Lady Dunn moved her gaze to me. "You have outdone yourself."

  "Thank you," I said.

  The two of them stared at the paintings for a long time. It was uncanny, as they both grew very still. I moved away, giving them time, and then I moved into the kitchen and poured refreshments for all of us. They barely noticed when I handed them glasses, but then they clinked their glasses to each other in some silent toast I didn't understand.

  We stayed there for a half hour longer, the two vampires slowly returning to animation. Cathalina asked, "I would like her to sign them."

  "In blood?"

  "Yes. If you approve."

  "I will be the one to assist her."

  "Of course."

  I spoke up. "I would prefer to let the acrylic dry. The paintings should remain here for two weeks with the temperature turned up. I can sign them and then we can transport them for framing."

  "No. The framers will come here," said Cathalina. "I would rather you oversaw the framing."

  "Very well," I said. "Am I endangering anyone by making a recommendation to you?"

  "Of course not," she said.

  "I will need access to a tablet with more privileges than my own to look up the information you need," I said.

  "You and I will address that," Lady Dunn replied.

  "You will be here when the framers are here," Cathalina said. "With permission of your mistress."

  "Of course," my lady agreed.

  "Well then, everything is settled."

  They both turned to me together. "It is time for your payment," Cathalina said. "It was not to be monetary, but you have produced far more than expected, and so your mistress and I will adjust your compensation upwards."

  I inclined my head. "Thank you."

  "Very well. Come along." They both took an arm, and I found myself led from the studio where I had spent much of the last two months. I looked back, a little sad to be leaving this part of my days behind.

  They led me to the house and to the currently closed doors of the sitting room that had become so familiar to me.

  "Your compensation awaits inside," Cathalina said. "They have been instructed."

  "Certain topics of conversation are not allowed," she said. "You may speak to your health, but no details from your time since meeting me. I do not care if you speak of any time before we met. They are allowed to speak of their lives, but no details that directly touch you, only those that indirectly do so."

  "What's going on?"

  "Perhaps we should make her close her eyes," Cathalina suggested.

  "I think not." She stepped forward, clasping the door handle. Cathalina nodded, and Lady Dunn opened the door. I stepped through and stopped, staring. There were six people waiting for me.

  "Mama!" I screamed!

  Mama

  She and I flew together, and then we were in each other's arms, hugging fiercely. I knew I was crying, and so was she. All I could say was, "Mama, Mama." I hadn't called her that in nearly thirty years. She was either "Mom" or "Mother" or, during an especially rebellious period in my teens, "Nancy."

  She in turn said my name over and over, interspersed with, "My baby, oh, my baby."

  Then she pushed me aw
ay, her hands on my arms. She lifted a hand to touch my cheek. "Oh, your face." She lightly touched the rings from my lip. "Does this hurt?"

  "No, Mama," I said.

  Then, ever prepared, she dug into her purse and produced tissues. I cleaned myself, and she took them from me, putting them away. Always prepared, that was my mother.

  "Let me look at you," she said. "Are they feeding you? You look thin."

  "I am fed very well," I said.

  "You're pale. Are you sick?"

  "No, Mama. I have not been sick a day in two years."

  She caressed my cheek again. "This is so shocking."

  "I know. It took a long time to become accustomed to my reflection."

  "Ahem," said my lady from behind me. "Careful."

  "Oh. That topic is off limits."

  I wasn't ready to introduce her. I looked at my mother carefully. There was, perhaps, a little more grey in her hair, and a few more lines around her eyes and mouth.

  "I am so sorry I have frightened you," I told her. "I'm sorry, Mama."

  She pulled me into another hug. "I have been fine," she replied. "Come. Everyone wants to see you."

  She turned me, and I saw my dearest friend, Tegan. I opened my arms, and she came to me, holding me tightly. "I'm so sorry," she whispered.

  "Thank you for being my friend," I told her. "I-" I was about to tell her I thought of her often. "I love you."

  "I love you, too," she replied.

  And then Mrs. Benchley was waiting, and she was crying.

  "My poor dear!" she said. "I am so sorry. You should have told me you'd had a glass. I would have survived until morning."

  "I know. It was my mistake, not yours." I pulled her into a hug. We weren't really hugging friends, but just this once. "How is Livingston?"

  "He misses you," she said, "but a nice lady comes to walk him twice a day. She is sweet to him, but he will be ready for you when you come home. He frequently escapes into the hallways and runs to stand outside your doorway."

  "Oh, poor Livingston." I kissed her on the nose. "You give that to him from me."

  "Oh, you sweet girl. Of course I will."

  Of the remaining three people, one was Pru, an old girlfriend. We had remained friends, and when I turned to her, she pulled me into her arms. She would have kissed me, but I whispered into her ear, "No. She'll get jealous."