by Imogene Nix
Straightening up, she looked around at the mass of boxes waiting for her to delve into. “Well, gone away and back again. Where do I start first?”
The phone trilled and she started for an instant, before extending her hand to the receiver on the shelf beside her. “Hope.”
“Miss Hope, do you require any help? Lisi is wondering if you require her assistance.” The muffled voice of one of her guardians flowed out of the earpiece. She had forgotten that living at the manor meant the goldfish bowl lifestyle she had tried her best to escape at college. Not that she’d had much opportunity to live a free lifestyle. She’d been lodged with a guardian family within the college grounds. Even then, her personal team of five guards had shadowed her every move—to classes, shopping and even to the hairdresser’s.
They hadn’t escaped her notice, the looks some of her classmates had thrown her way. Longing for the lifestyle they’d thought she enjoyed. Little did they know, Hope would happily have swapped, a lot of the time. Downtime had existed within a carefully vetted group of companions, each from houses of similar status. The cloying atmosphere she hated, but, nonetheless, she had submitted to her parents’ will. Only a few times had she sought to do activities that they would have deemed inappropriate, but her conscience had always kicked in, and she had derived no enjoyment from the guilty feelings that had overcome her.
“No thanks, Jeffrey. I have all the boxes up here and I am going to take my time going through everything.” How could she explain that she needed a freedom that had been denied? That this small and almost insignificant rebellion was one she embraced? But she couldn’t. It wasn’t fair to Jeffrey to share that.
“Fine, Miss Hope. Oh, and I am supposed to remind you, the new Master has requested your presence in his library after sundown.”
She nodded, knowing it was expected that she would take her oath of fealty. “Oh. Right. I’ll be down for sunset.” She laid down the receiver. It’s one thing to owe your continued safety to a vampire nest Master, but quite another to be at his beck and call all the time, just as her parents had been. Her temper spiked momentarily. The emotion coiled through her then she shuddered, pushing away the negative thought, while absently reaching for the boxes she needed to stack, store or unpack. The rough exterior of some of them brushed against her hands. For now, she had time. Lots of time.
Ripping the tape off the first box, she then started to root through it, unwrapping reminders of her slightly more free college life, formulating arguments to put to her parents, knowing that the dice were stacked against her. Her life had been mapped out since her birth, but perhaps she could find a way around some of the roadblocks. At least she hoped so. With that thought, she set to work.
* * * *
He stretched in the bed, feeling the cool sheets around his body, savouring the experience of knowing he could rise when he wanted to. Luxuriating as he came to full awareness of his surroundings. His bed. His home. His nest. A feeling of exultation swept through him. One he had experienced several times in the last six months since he had become Master.
Xavier had only recently been transferred to this nest, after Cyrus had been called to ascend to a seat on the Council with his predecessor Cressida, the most senior of the vampires on the Council.
A new Master had been required for the nest, a situation arising from the ascension of Cressida who had saved the child Hope from the rogues. The death of another of the Council meant that Cyrus had answered a call to accept a seat. It was an almost unheard of event for a nest to have two new Masters in under a hundred years, but Xavier had accepted his unexpected promotion. Not that he would take it for granted—no, he worked beside his vampires as required, so they knew he would ensure their safety while they ensured his.
The household he had taken over was well run, and he had no fears for his financial status, even though they had lost the manor and many assets during the dark days of clearing the rogues who had attacked the house. Indeed, he had been with Cyrus the night he had ascended and had seen the great strides Cyrus had made during his Mastership.
He swiped a hand over his stubbled face and a voice to his left said quietly, “Master, refreshments for you.” A crystal goblet appeared in a white hand at the edge of his vision. He accepted it with a grunt, the ruby red liquid inside calling to him on a primal level. Blood wine. Sustenance that would ease the clawing hunger he always felt on awakening.
His teeth extended and his mouth opened. The first drop touched his tongue and a frisson moved through him, the ecstasy of drinking flowing into his body. He took his time, savouring the flavours.
Young.
Full bodied.
Tart aftertaste. The wine, the only human sustenance he could now enjoy. Food was relegated to a memory of things long past.
He closed his eyes as the last drop flowed, and breathed deep. Yes, a Master could very quickly become accustomed to this lifestyle, but not now and not today. He needed to meet this Hope, the one who had turned their entire world upside down. James had told him little about his daughter, save that she would need to remain within the house, protected from the world. That someday she would assume the mantle of leading the house from within, while her brother oversaw the legal and financial affairs of the nest.
He pushed the bed covers away, unconcerned about nudity as he padded to the bathroom. He might be a vampire, but he still bathed and shaved, a thought that made him chuckle. Even after all these years, when vampires had made their entry into the human world, humans outside nests thought vampires had no need for those daily rituals.
He moved through his ablutions. She would be waiting for him, but he would present himself to her in his most urbane incarnation. She would take her oath of fealty, then he would meet with his advisers, James and David leading the human contingent.
No need to rush her, he reminded himself. After all, he was the Master now. He stopped and thought. This was not the attitude to take. After all, he might be the Master, but each and every human in the nest had a place and value. He remonstrated with himself, giving a shake of his head, then hurried through his dressing, pulling on white shirt, suit and tie.
Finally dressed and ready, he left his suite, making his way up the stairs and through the secure door, where he continued to the library. His sanctum, and now office.
In the corridor stood his second, Javed. His origins were Arabic, though, as with most of the vampires he knew, they never discussed the lives they had led as humans before they became vampires. They were gone and past. He waited, looking easy, but no one knew better than Xavier that this belied the soul of a warrior. His friend and most trusted ally would be carrying a range of weaponry. He scanned the room, watching every movement around him, assessing and looking for weaknesses. He also acted as an information conduit where necessary. Tonight, Xavier needed to know the status of the newest to take her oath, the daughter of the house whom neither of them had met.
“What is her status?” He looked closely at his second in charge and only confidante.
“She is concerned and upset. Her parents have continued the line that she is to assume the status her mother holds. The staff have intimated she is unsettled and angry at the obvious restrictions placed upon her. Apparently after the freer life she experienced whilst away, she is finding the strictures difficult to accept.” Javed watched him, waiting for the words of his leader, and Xavier felt the weight of responsibility settle again.
The nod he gave was quick. He would be adding to the strictures that she found so stifling. Something felt wrong about the situation, yet he had accepted the comments of his Yeux Secondes in the matter. Then he dismissed his concerns and considered the day ahead. The sound of steps filled his mind and he moved towards the room beyond, knowing that the chandeliers would gleam in the dark and the white tiles beneath his feet would reflect the glow of light as directed by Verity.
The doors opened and he entered the room, only to stop just beyond the threshold as he saw a woman. Her scent,
clean and soft, filled his mind. Beautiful, willowy, he noted while she gracefully moved before the bookcases, her long-nailed fingers sliding over the spines of the books that she perused, and for a moment pleasure invaded his mind, thoughts of those fingers trailing over his body arousing him. Long black hair, graceful neck and hips that flared slightly. She wasn’t angular, just perfectly proportioned.
His mouth dried, even as his gums ached and his body tightened in response. Then she turned around.
The sound of opening doors caught her attention. Hope had been looking through the titles on the bookshelves, running a finger along the spines, and feeling the reassurance of old leather beneath her touch, all the while taking in the scents of wood and lemon-infused beeswax, old paper and remembered cigar smoke. Memories of this room filled her mind. The hours spent poring over the titles she knew were housed here. Titles such as The Booke of Vampyre and The Bloode Promise resided next to The Diary of Anne Frank and Dune, and she could tell that the collection had expanded once again.
It seemed almost surreal, that many of the titles she had perused as a child still existed in this room. On some level she knew they weren’t the same books, for they had been lost in the manor when it burned to the ground, of course. Yet it was obvious that time and effort had gone into finding and replacing the titles with the same—a fact that continued to fill her with wonder.
The subtle creak of old hinges pulled her from the reverie, telling her that she was no longer alone. The frisson of power, though, would have done the same, and she shook slightly, feeling a pull as she turned.
In the doorway stood the most exquisite man she had ever seen. Piercing green eyes had captured hers before she looked beyond them to the planes of his face. Lean and olive-skinned, a slight shadow existed even though she could tell he’d recently shaved. She even detected the hint of aftershave.
He was tall. Very tall. She would hazard at least six foot four. Muscular. His well-fitted suit did nothing to hide the rippling muscles the material covered. He had a presence that captured her instantly. Her breath caught. The scent that filled the air called to something deep within her, and her insides quaked.
Dear Gods, if this was the Master, then she had a problem. The thought slammed into her. He moved with a determined stride, displaying his innate grace as both a man and a hunter.
He strode around the room, as if holding his inner predator at bay. His eyes widened and his nostrils flared as he watched her. All these things she saw in bare seconds, but time stood still for her, while she gazed upon him. Her stomach clenched and breathing shortened as a primal thrill sang through her veins.
“Master Xavier?” The words slipped out while her heart beat a rapid tattoo as he neared. The air in her lungs felt as if it had disappeared, and she knew she breathed heavily. Heard it and knew he did too, in the narrowing of his eyes.
“Yes. You would be Miss Hope? Please sit down.” He gestured towards a winged chair, and she noted his fingers, long and tapered. “We have important matters to discuss.”
Hope stumbled slightly, gaining the leather chair and gripping the wings, looking away briefly, seeking something as she battled to control her reaction to this man. Vampire, her mind screamed. Once more, Hope breathed in, expanding her chest and inhaling the deeply masculine scent of him that in turn made her pulse react again. Hope lowered herself, as if her legs were boneless, into the seat. She hadn’t felt this ungainly in many years, yet with him any sense of confidence frittered away.
Hope had considered herself quite reserved and contained until this man…this Master…had made himself known to her. Now she felt like the gawky child she had once been. Her mind thick and full of nonsense, or at least resembling no more than a jumbled mess, was unable to clutch and hold onto any thoughts without scattering. Hope twisted her fingers in her lap seeking something to bring her back to reality.
“You have settled into your suite, I take it?” He reclined in the chair opposite her, watching her intently, as she focused on him again.
“Yes, thank you, Master, I… All my items arrived safely and I plan to take the next few days to unpack everything.” He sat waiting and she ploughed on, even though she knew he wasn’t really interested in her packing or unpacking. After all, it was small talk, filling the quiet. Wasn’t it?
“However, I would like to ask permission to find employment…and perhaps to be situated in the city, perhaps in one of the nest apartments?” She stopped as his face tightened, and she felt a stab of apprehension at the change that overcame him.
The urbane sophisticate was replaced with an icy cold visage, and the deep green pools hardened before her shocked gaze. “No.”
Searching his face, she sat forward hoping she could somehow change his mind. Her own churned, looking for a way to explain her feelings and need. Hoping she could salvage the meeting and make him agree.
“But I have skills. I have my degree and I need to use it…” Surely, he would see that? But his face remained closed as the words died away, and a suffocating feeling filled her chest. The same one she had experienced several times since returning home.
“No.” His words were clear in the sudden silence. “You may find employment within the household, but you will not be allowed to move from the manor without the necessary guards.”
Inside her chest something shuddered and cracked before rebellion, hot and acidic, rose within her. “Look, all I want is a chance to find my future. I can continue to work to the greater good of the nest.” She gripped the plush velvet at the arms of the chair, and she leant farther forward. Seeking something, some crumb of understanding and, for now, uncaring of the possible danger of arguing with a Master vampire. “I am more than happy to move into the apartments where Lisi and her family reside, if that makes it easier. They are guarded there.” But the cold of his eyes only seemed to deepen, while her skin tightened and the pressure within her built.
Hope controlled herself with an effort and her words died away. She wanted to scream her frustration to this man who controlled her as effectively as her parents. The yearning in her chest filling her up, a lump formed in her throat and she struggled to swallow, and with burning eyes she accepted that she would find no ally. She wanted freedom. She wanted a life—her life. Not the world her brother David had, where he was happy to live at home with his bride, where his life was determined by hereditary roles.
The bands around her lungs constricted as she tried to explain her need one last time, even though she now knew the answer would remain negative, while the driving desire to be something more battered at her. But he watched in silence.
“I need to do something useful. I need to be able to leave these walls, and do things with people I choose to be with.”
His eyes were now shadowed, with gold ringing those green irises and she stopped. She had learnt very early on, the golden glaze meant a building anger. She had seen that before in Cressida’s eyes, the night she had come and saved her.
“Miss Hope, I will tell you this once. You are a member of the nest. I am your Master. It is for a good reason that I say no, for your protection and that of all your kind and mine.” The careful words cooled her fevered body, turning it to ice. “Now, I am not unkind and uncaring. I can understand your need and may be able to find you some employment utilising your skills…within one of our companies. However, you will reside here until such time as I see fit.” He stopped and Hope had the uncanny feeling that he waited for an outburst, but she was spent—exhausted by the brief, but impassioned outburst.
“You are also forbidden to make any attempts to seek employment either within, or outside the household, until I say otherwise.”
Gracefully, the Master rose and extended his hand, gesturing to the door while all she wanted was to shrink away, even as she accepted the implicit dismissal with a feeling of anger. The cold feeling that invaded her body left her feeling brittle. “I will see you tomorrow and I am sure I will have some further news.”
&nbs
p; Hope swallowed her argument. There was nothing to be achieved right now. No matter how much she hated this truth and his words, the argument had been lost—for now, anyway.
A swift move and he had turned his back to her. She knew there was no choice but to leave his presence. Defeated, she stepped slowly across the plush carpeting, while she curled her fingers into claw-like talons. Her eyes burnt with frustrated tears and she blinked rapidly, holding them at bay while she stalked from the room.
Perhaps her brother was comfortable with his life and situation, but it would never be the one she would choose for herself. She stood beyond the door as it closed behind her. Shutting her out of any chance to make the decisions for herself.
The story of her life.
She waited with eyes closed for just a moment while she regained her composure, then opened her eyes. No one had seen her and for that she was thankful. Hope turned and headed towards the ornate staircase that would take her back to the floor where her suite awaited her.
Maybe it was time to think outside the box, she told herself, as she placed a foot on the tread. Maybe that was the key.
It was only when she arrived back in her suite that she realised she hadn’t taken her oath of fealty, but even so, for her there was no escaping. She would need to talk to him again, see him. Perhaps next time he would listen and understand. For once, though, she felt no assurance that any outcome, even marginally positive, was to be had and that thought brought her no comfort.
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