by Nicola Rose
At first glance there was really nothing there to explain the malevolent feeling that emanated from within. It was just the great hall of a mansion – stately, and vast in scale. The same sort of chandeliers and paintings hung around the room. The carpet had been traded for a wooden floor. But given how immaculate everything was, it struck me as odd that the floor seemed so unclean. Large dark patches, splatters…
Blood stains. Those were blood stains.
I tried to take another step back and was met with a solid wall in the form of Raze.
Around the room, now that I looked closer, I could see metal implements along the walls, beneath the paintings; chains, mostly, and gadgets that I couldn’t work out. Didn’t want to work out.
Beyond the sweeping expanse of blood-splattered floor, at the far end of the hall, a throne sat atop a marble dais. A gasp caught in my throat when my eyes settled and I realised that someone occupied the seat. Motionless, his skin and hair a dazzling white, an air of boredom about his posture.
“Are you going to stand here whimpering all day? Do I have to drag you before him, because you should know how much I’d enjoy that,” Raze grunted in my ear and took the opportunity for a quick grope.
I straightened out my back and stepped across the threshold. Each step that took me closer to the ghostly man on the throne made my stomach drop. The air thickened around me. My legs didn’t want to go there, and nor did my head, which was screaming at me to turn and run. But I wouldn’t give him, or Raze, that pleasure.
When I finally reached the foot of the dais I forced my gaze upward, away from my feet, and found his eyes. My heart skipped; maybe stopped completely… it was hard to breathe. Glowing red eyes. Bored, and predatory. Quietly confident.
Fear skittered along my skin. This was Emory. It had to be. I could understand why Zac was so afraid of the Bael, of what they could do. This vampire looked like he could do absolutely anything he wanted and not a thing could stop him. He didn’t need to try and look imposing; the threat of death seeped from every pore.
“Do not look upon your master unless requested!” Raze yelled, slapping me around the face with such force that white light flashed behind my eyelids. “And get on your knees.” He grabbed my hair and yanked me down.
I looked at Emory’s feet. Well, one foot; the other leg was cocked up over the arm of the throne. The foot that was planted onto the smooth dais was enclosed in a smart, black shoe. For some reason I suddenly found it amusing to note his chequered socks. Even satanic vampire lords wore socks.
“Do you know why you’re here, my dear?” Emory’s voice surprised me. Not evil, or monstrous. It was like silk; soft, delicate, but with an undercurrent of authority. And a British accent? I raised my head to answer him and was swiftly slapped around the face again. I was going to have Raze killed first when my knight arrived.
“You’re going to want to follow Raze’s instructions, sweetness. He can be a brute at times,” Emory said.
I spat blood on the floor. “I’m here because you’re Emory, leader of the Bael, and you’re an arrogant cocksucker who’s jealous of Zac and wants what he has?” I kept my tone low and level, and my eyes down.
His foot tapped on the marble as he let out a whispering chuckle. “Indeed. Something like that. And you’re going to help me get what I want, because I do always get what I want, Jessica.”
No one had ever called me Jessica in my whole life, except for my father.
The buzzing intensified.
“Is that so?” I asked. “I tend to think the same thing about myself, which means one of us is shit out of luck today.”
The quiet laugh again. “Look at me,” he said.
Raze grunted his disapproval from behind, which made me smile. I raised my head slowly, not really for effect, but because it still hurt, and mainly because I didn’t want to look. Everything in my core told me not to. My heart beat faster.
His eyes were terrifying. Captivating. I knew this feeling. I knew the sense of being sucked into them, of wanting to reach out for their owner with my body and soul – this was the effect of vampire eyes. But his were so different to any other vampire I’d met. Not just because of their shocking red colour, but because of the way they made my skin crawl. A slight smile ghosted across his bleached lips.
“You know that I could make you think or feel anything I want,” Emory said, musing to himself rather than asking a question.
When I remained silent, my fear finally quieting my cocky mouth and paralysing me, he continued, “Of course, there’s not so much fun in that anymore. It gets old. I much prefer to play with my toys in a different way. Come, kneel beside me, my sweet. We have business to attend to.”
I would have moved, I really would. It didn’t take a genius to know that right then I was out of options, other than to follow his orders. But I couldn’t. My legs wouldn’t go. Weak and useless.
Raze huffed and dragged me up the dais steps by my hair, forcing me back into a kneeling position beside Emory. It was actually better there, where I couldn’t look directly into his eyes.
Until I noticed there was a man behind the throne who’d been blocked from view before. He was entirely naked, kneeling down with his head bowed. A collar was attached to his throat with a chain that pooled around him on the dais. His hair was straggly and blonde, a little like Leon’s. Muscled and tanned. But broken. Something about the set of his body, the way he held himself – he was a shell.
Emory reached a pale, slender hand down to stroke my hair. I sat there, on my knees, as he petted my head like I was his fucking dog. Nausea rose from my stomach and tried to make its way out of my throat.
I swallowed hard to chase the anxiety back down, as noise from the doorway caught my attention. Ruben walked towards us, flanked by a couple of other vampires. He didn’t bother to hide the smugness on his face as he looked at me. In fact, I’d never seen him look so happy. He was always angry, snarky… now he was positively buoyant; bouncing towards us in his twee breeches and tailcoat, all smiles, like an 1800s gentlemen come to court me. The fucking eccentric wanker had betrayed us all.
He stopped just short of the dais and swooped down in a majestic bow to Emory. “My liege.” He remained low in his bow, waiting to be allowed to rise.
“Liege?” Emory asked. “That’s a new one. You’re an odd man, Ruben.”
I noticed the stiffness enter Ruben’s shoulders at the mocking. His jaw tightened, and a little snort escaped my throat.
Emory looked at me with amusement and petted my hair some more. Raze snarled, no doubt upset that I’d looked upon his great leader again, but Emory didn’t seem to mind that now.
“What do you think, Jessica? Should we allow him to rise now?” Emory purred, soft, understated. The hairs stood on the nape of my neck. We? Hell no, he did not expect to keep me here by his side on this dais? Did he intend for me to join him? I clamped my teeth together.
“Rise,” Emory sighed. “And abandon the liege part. A simple Sir will suffice.”
“As you wish, Sir” Ruben gritted, rising slowly and settling his gaze back on me, the happy mask slipping.
“You’re no doubt wondering when your official initiation into the Bael will occur?” Emory asked.
I snorted again. He stabbed us all in the back, even his own beloved sister, so that he could join the Bael? His assholery knew no bounds.
“Naturally, I hope that it will be soon. I fulfilled my side of the bargain.”
“That, you did,” Emory’s hand moved to rub the back of my neck. My skin erupted in unwelcome shivers. “There is to be a party in your honour tonight, Ruben. Return to your quarters and join us in the ballroom at ten, prompt.”
Ruben nodded, the smugness making a brief return to his features, before turning and leaving the hall.
“Raze, take Jessica back to her own quarters,” Emory said to his minion, before turning his attention to me. I went to look at him but Raze yanked hard on my hair until I averted my eyes back to
Emory’s feet. What was up with this fucktard?
“We have a busy night ahead of us, my sweet. Go and rest, you’ll need plenty of energy,” Emory stooped down and whispered in my ear.
“My quarters? Do you mean the fucking dungeon where I’ve spent fuck knows how long chained up and beaten? Oh, yes, thank you. I’m sure I’ll get plenty of rest back there,” I spat, staring hard into his ruby eyes.
Raze whipped me to the ground, flat on my back. The crack from the impact to my skull took my breath away. The naked man behind the throne hissed. I tried to catch his eye but he wouldn’t look.
Emory sighed. “You certainly are a feisty one, Jessica. What fun we shall have.” He disappeared from the room in the blink of an eye, leaving fuckface to drag me across the hall, my back scraping against the wooden floor.
To my surprise, he didn’t deposit me back where I’d come from. Instead, he threw me into a sparse bedroom – small, with a single bed, and a nightstand.
Juno was stood just inside the doorway. I launched at her, she side-stepped, and I went flailing into the wall before turning and having another go at her. This time she got hold of my arms and pinned them into the small of my back.
“Believe me, I do not want to be here acting as your personal maid either. But neither of us get a choice in that, so suck it up, buttercup,” she hissed in my ear.
I stopped struggling and she pushed me to the bed, pointing at some fabric draped across it.
“You will wear that dress tonight, or Emory will let Raze loose on you, and you haven’t seen anything yet. So far he’s been on a leash, but if he’s given free rein on you then you’ll be praying for death. Harder than you’ve ever wished for anything before.”
Raze grinned proudly from the door and, once Juno passed through it, he slammed it shut. A key clicked in the lock.
As soon as the sound of their voices had faded I let the buzz wash through me and followed it to that mysterious place inside. Letting it grow, I uncurled my fingers and marvelled at the little ball of fire within my palm. Moving my hand toward the bed, the flame leapt forward and the hem of the dress caught alight.
Satisfaction surged as I watched the flames take hold, but then an image of Raze flashed before me and panic rose in my chest. What if Zac wasn’t about to swoop in and rescue me? He’d warned me enough times about how dangerous the Bael were. I quickly grabbed a pillow and smothered the flames.
Picking up the dress to examine it, my throat bobbed at the charred, black mess along the bottom hem. It was a long gown, it would reach the floor… maybe no one would notice.
A bitter taste coated my tongue as I shimmied my way into it. The satin fabric smelled fresh and clean, in stark contrast to the world around me. The cowardice made me feel sick as I zipped up the side. I should have let it burn.
Smoothing it down over my hips, I examined myself in the mirror. It was a beautiful gown, I couldn’t deny that; tightly fitted, cobalt blue with a plunging diamond-encrusted neckline, and a slit right up one side, all the way to my hip. I might have looked good were it not for the bruises over my jaw, arms, wrists…
Not to mention my scar that I always kept hidden. I’d never wear something this revealing in real life.
What the hell was going to happen tonight? Was this to be my initiation, too? Emory had seated me beside him on the dais, albeit on my knees, and now he dressed me up like his own little doll. If he intended to have me join him I’d shove this fear aside and fight with everything I had. Let them kill me.
But first, I’d play along, hoping that some sort of plan would come to light.
For now. Emory’s little submissive.
6
Jess
The ballroom didn’t have the ominous stench of death that hung in the air of the throne hall, and I was relieved to see there was no dais, so maybe I wouldn’t be spending the night kneeling beside the Lord of the Fuckwads.
Not only was the room devoid of that ghastly feeling, the air was decidedly crisp and fresh, everything sparkling and perfect. Tables ran along the sides of the room, covered with canapés of all varieties. My mouth watered. When had I last eaten?
Emory appeared beside me, literally out of nowhere. “Go ahead, eat before the guests arrive. You look starved and you need your energy.”
Would it be weak if I went ahead and ate? I wanted to say no, to be defiant, but damn, my stomach twisted with hunger. He gave me a gentle nudge and I hurried to one of the tables. After scoffing three pastry things without taking a breath, I turned to find Raze glaring at me from the doorway. Emory had wandered off to talk amongst a group.
I didn’t pay them any attention, I was too drawn to the next table along which held dozens of wine bottles and glasses. Stuffing a few more mouthfuls of food down, I went and helped myself to the alcohol. Why not? If this night was going to be as draining as I feared, then perhaps getting wasted would help. No. Not wasted. I needed my wits about me. Just slightly numb, then. That would help. It would certainly help with the aches and pains from the injuries Juno and Raze had inflicted upon me. I downed the glass and then Emory was suddenly back with me.
“Better?”
I let out a sharp breath in reply, eyebrows raised. He linked his arm through mine and began walking us across the room. I struggled to pull myself free, but the firmness of his hold was ridiculous. He turned his head and his vibrant red eyes went black as he snarled, “Do not fucking push my patience tonight, Jessica. I will treat you with respect if you grant me the same decency. Whilst under my roof you are mine, and you will bow to my wishes.”
My heart froze. I felt my own eyes widen in sheer terror at the underlying threat dripping from him. The blackness vanished from his irises, the red returning, which I wasn’t entirely sure was better, but his face softened. I stopped struggling and walked alongside him, our arms entwined like lovers taking a casual stroll.
“Good girl,” he whispered. “The party’s just about to start. You look beautiful, by the way.” His gaze raked down my body and his jaw ticked when he saw the charred hem at the bottom, but he didn’t comment on it. Instead, he stroked the scarred tissue across my shoulder blade with curiosity. There was no hiding it in this dress. His touch over that tight, sensitive skin made me shudder.
More guests swarmed into the room, like kids on a field trip, all eager-eyed and giggly. One by one they spotted the booze and headed straight for it; young girls, barely teenagers, all tight skirts and crop tops, and older women, classier in their dress, but not looking sophisticated. In fact, some of them looked downright messy in crumpled and dirty clothes. Men of all ages trotted past me, from late teens, right up to one man who looked in his sixties, dishevelled in a threadbare suit.
Who the hell were all these people? And come to think of it, why was there food on the tables at a vampire gathering? My eyes scanned the newcomers again, to find that they were indeed just people. They didn’t belong in the same room, all mixing together at one event. Not with the Bael. The humans huddled together in small groups of four or five, talking animatedly, and the vampires watched them with an air of calmness.
I picked her up from an event… organisers spend months rounding up a load of homeless people, or those who are isolated and alone, ones nobody will miss.
Alex’s voice rang through my head. He’d told me about this type of thing. My stomach dropped. I looked around at the vampires, at the way they watched and interacted with the people. This was a game.
Emory must have sensed my racing heart and the shift in my breathing as I struggled to compose myself. His grip tightened on my arm.
“You have no idea how much fun this night holds, Jessica. This is just the beginning,” he flashed me a wide grin and pulled me across the room.
Emory brought us up to a halt amongst a small group of vampires. Three of them gave him a curt nod and went off in search of other conversation, which left a man and a woman. They stood shoulder to shoulder, eyeing me up. The man had curly auburn hair, a strong
jaw and golden eyes that reminded me of Zac. The woman, dressed in floor length black velvet, had matching fiery, copper hair, framing a petite freckled face with a button nose. She was tiny and unimposing, like your friend’s kid sister playing dress-up in her mother’s clothes.
“Jess,” Emory turned to me. “This is Laurance Elwood and his beautiful wife, Beatrix.”
She held out a small hand for me to shake, or kiss, who knows, and added “Of the Morena coven,” in a girly, sing-song voice that I’d heard before. Then they all stood smiling at me with smugness, and curiosity, waiting for the penny to drop. It dropped the moment I heard Elwood, but I was proud of how well I kept my face hidden behind a mask of serenity. Unfortunately my heart wasn’t playing along and stubbornly raced ahead at a furious pace.
Beatrix must be the original witch who created the Legacy for her beloved Elwood brothers, and here was one of them by her side. She was clearly a vampire now, radiating that immortal glow. Yet she seemed so young and childlike. Surely this little thing could not be responsible for all the Elwood shit?!
There were a thousand things I wanted to ask them, but I pressed my lips together. I wouldn’t give them that satisfaction. In contrast to her youthfulness, Laurance looked older than I would have imagined. I mean, they must be centuries old, but all vampires I’d encountered were fresh-faced. He looked like a little age had started to creep in around the eyes. Maybe vampires did age after all, just very slowly. Then again, Emory was surely older, and his skin was like polished marble.
Thinking of the devil, he cleared his throat and I realised they were still waiting for my reaction. I’ve already given it to you, dipshits. Indifference. That’s all I’d give them. I remained mute until I felt Emory’s grip, once again, tightening like a vice on my arm.