by Juniper Hart
Dozens of unnatural looking, nearly perfect creatures were staring at her, watching her as if they were ready to pounce. They all looked different — some with dark skin, some were extremely pale. Some of the creatures had blonde hair, while others had hair as dark as night. But each was young and beautiful. And each one sent shivers down her spine with their forbidding gaze. As Sawyer’s eyes adjusted to the soft artificial light from outside of her cell, she saw what they all had in common: red, piercing eyes. An audible gasp escaped her lips. Were they monsters? Robots? She had always enjoyed science fiction and read about robots that looked human. Maybe she had been thrust into the crazy world of artificial intelligence.
Nobody said anything to Sawyer, but the creatures’ stares seemed to penetrate her skin and look deep into her soul. The two men guided her through the crowd and turned to reach a new hallway, then turned again. The building was like a maze with endless hallways and doors, but no windows were in sight. How was she supposed to escape if she couldn’t locate an exit?
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the men stopped in front of two large, metal doors. The doors were intricately designed with images of ivy encircling fornicating couples. The doors looked to be centuries old, like they belonged in a museum. As she studied the doors more carefully, she noticed that the people in carvings had rubies for eyes, which mirrored the red eyes from the creatures surrounding her. They also had fangs, like wild beasts. Then, the realization hit her. Vampires. The creatures carved into the doors were vampires.
Terrified, she asked, “What am I doing here? Where am I? Are you going to kill me?”
One of the men tightened his grip on her arm, “Just move.”
The doors opened slowly, metal screeching across the marble floor. The two men who had a hold of her dragged her inside to a wide, open room. Sawyer’s heart was beating so fast she felt as if it would leap from her chest. Was this the moment her life would end? Her eyes were fixated on a small fleck of black on the floor; she was too frightened to look up. She felt the presence of many people and heard people speak in different languages, many of which she didn’t recognize.
Finally, Sawyer raised her head and looked forward as her eyes landed on a man sitting on a throne and wearing a thin, gold crown. She couldn’t tear her eyes from the creature before her. Sawyer was aware that dozens, if not hundreds, of more people were in the room, but all of her attention was focused on the regal being.
His expression was unchanging. It wasn’t warm, or cruel, but indifferent. Sawyer didn’t know if she was supposed to speak, but chose to remain quiet. Everything was so unreal. Finally, the crowned man spoke.
“So you’re the one whose blood burned my people?”
His voice was melodic and almost sounded like a song as he spoke.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Two people attacked me, and that’s all I remember.”
“Tell me, exactly, what do you remember?”
Sawyer’s voice trembled and was apprehensive about answering. What if she gave the wrong answer even though she was telling the truth? “Nothing. I never saw their faces. All I remember is that one bit me, and someone else hit me over the head. Then, I woke up in a cell.”
Sawyer focused on his eyes, trying to read his thoughts or gauge his mood. Unlike everybody else she had encountered during her short walk from her cell, his eyes were bright blue, like the color of the sea in a tropical paradise. His dark hair gave the appearance he had just rolled out of bed, but it probably took him hours to make his hair that perfect. His olive skin tone was darker than the men who held her arms, but like the other creatures, it was smooth and perfect. A unusual, ethereal glow illuminated his skin, which made him look like a god. She couldn’t take her eyes off him. He was beautiful.
“Interesting,” answered the man. “You don’t remember anything else?”
“Who are you? What do you want with me?” pleaded Sawyer.
“My name is Atticus.”
A guard interrupted, “His name is His Royal Highness, King Atticus of the Klassen clan.”
Atticus waved his hand at the guard, motioning for him to be quiet.
Atticus continued, “And as for what I want to do with you, I am not sure yet. It depends on your blood.” He gave orders to guards who were standing near him, “Go the lab. Tell them to prepare for her arrival. Test her blood. See if it’s a match.”
My blood? The color drained from Sawyer’s face as she felt her knees go weak. The men holding her arms tightened their grips to keep her steady.
“A match for what?” asked Sawyer.
“Silence,” said the man. “None of this is any of your concern.”
“Of course it’s my concern. It’s my—”
One of the guards quickly covered her mouth and whispered into her ear. “It’s best if you’re quiet. Don’t make him mad. He doesn’t have patience.”
Sawyer heeded the man’s warning, thankful for his concern.
King Atticus spoke again, “Henry, take her to see the princess. Flavia insisted on seeing her.”
The guard, who had given Sawyer the warning, nodded and guided her out of the room.
Sawyer addressed him, “So, you’re Henry?”
“Yes. And you’re Sawyer.”
“How did you—”
“Everybody knows who are you are. You are the first human to ever set foot in our fortress,” said Henry. His demeanor had changed dramatically from when she first laid eyes on him. He had been rough when he walked her to the throne room, but now his tone was kind. He kept his hand on the small of her back to lead her, and his touch was gentle.
“Am I going to die?” asked Sawyer, worried by the answer Henry might give.
“Well, all humans die. But, I don’t think King Atticus is going to kill you. I think he’s scared of you.”
“Scared of me? Why?”
Henry stopped and turned to face Sawyer. “Sawyer, there is a lot that you don’t know, and it’s best if you just do what the king asks. But, trust me, there are many of us who want to see you live. I promise that I will do everything in my power to protect you for as long as I can.”
Sawyer looked deeply into Henry’s red eyes. His blonde, wavy hair made him look as if he belonged on a beach with a surfboard, but his pale skin indicated he hadn’t seen the sun in quite some time. Sawyer’s eyes moved down to his chest and stomach, which were visibly muscular through his tight white shirt. Well, at least there’s eye candy here, thought Sawyer.
Henry chuckled, as if he knew what she was thinking.
Finally, they came to another set of large metal doors that matched the doors to the throne room.
“We’re here,” said Henry.
“What are they going to do to me? Why aren’t there any windows?” She panicked about what was behind the new set of doors. With a shaky voice, she asked, “Why do you want to help me?”
“We just need to keep you safe. There’s a prophecy that says—”
The large metal doors abruptly opened to reveal a beautiful woman with blonde hair that was so fair it bordered on the color white. She bore the same big, brilliant blue eyes and unusual ethereal glow as the king, signifying they were likely related. Her eyebrows were perfectly manicured, and her button nose made her look like a pixie. The woman’s facial features made her look about twenty years old, but her flawless skin looked as if she had never had a blemish or even been kissed by the sun. The light pink color of her shimmering, A-line dress accentuated the pale skin on her arms and long legs. She towered over Sawyer by at least three inches. Surprisingly, the woman’s mouth turned upward in a smile. Not a vicious smile, but a warm, welcoming smile.
“Henry, that’s enough. I will take Sawyer from her. You’re dismissed.”
“Of course, your Majesty,” answered Henry.
“Oh, and Henry…”
“Yes, your Majesty?”
“Any more words of the prophecy, and I will rip your heart out,” said the woman,
without raising her voice. “She will learn about it if the time is right.”
Henry’s eyes widened as he hurried off.
Well, it looks like he won’t be protecting me after all, thought Sawyer.
Sawyer took in her surroundings as the princess led her through the great metal doors. The room was decorated in a luxurious Victorian style. The red and gold wallpaper gave the room a royal ambiance, which complimented the beautiful artwork that adorned the walls. Is that a real Picasso on her wall? A cream-colored couch and a settee surrounded an ornately designed walnut table, which was topped with tea and refreshments.
“They’ve really treated you poorly, haven’t they? I hope they’ve fed you well,” said the woman.
Sawyer heard what the princess had just said to Henry. She looked kind, but Sawyer felt that a monster lived underneath the beautiful face and pleasant attitude. Sawyer remained quiet.
“Don’t worry,” laughed the princess. “I’m not going to hurt you. In fact, I am the one who insisted they let you out of the prison. Of course, they would have let you out eventually, but I said I would keep an eye on you. I felt it was barbaric to keep you in that dark, drafty cell.”
“Henry said he wanted to help me. Now, you’re telling me you want to help me. If everybody is so concerned about my wellbeing, why not just let me go?”
“That’s a valid question,” answered the princess. “However, it’s one I can’t answer. I’m afraid you’re going to be here for quite some time. More than likely, you’ll be here forever.”
“Forever? You can’t keep me here! I did nothing wrong! What about my friends and family?”
“Oh, Sawyer. We know too much about you to take any of those concerns seriously. You have no family. And I would hardly call your acquaintances friends.”
The words stung. Not because her opinion was cruel, but because it was true.
“Why did you insist on meeting me?”
“You intrigue me, Sawyer. Rumors have been circulating for decades about a match to the bloodline, and I wanted to see if you were the one.”
“A match to what bloodline?” asked Sawyer. “I never knew my family, and I grew up with a whole slew of foster parents. I can guarantee that I am not who you are looking for.”
“We’ll see, won’t we?” The woman stared at Sawyer for an uncomfortable amount of time without saying another word. Finally, she spoke, “Please excuse my manners. I’m Princess Flavia of the Klassen clan.”
“I’m Sawyer. And I don’t know my clan,” she said with a laugh.
Flavia didn’t laugh. “You come from the Vasile clan.”
“You know my parents?” asked Sawyer, suddenly hopeful for some link to her past. They already knew a lot about her. Maybe they knew about her family.
“No,” said Flavia. “But, I know your ancestors.” Flavia once again stared at Sawyer for a few seconds without blinking. “You’re quite beautiful. Your hair color is spectacular. I’ve always wanted red hair, as it comes with a fiery temper. And you have the most peculiar color of eyes. In all my years, I have only seen one other person with eyes as green and vibrant as yours.”
“Thanks,” said Sawyer. She was used to people commenting on her eye color. Her ex-boyfriend once described them as the color of springtime, when the fresh buds of flowers first open their leaves to the sun. “What am I doing here?” Maybe somebody will answer me!
“Ah, well, that is something I can’t tell you. It’s best to know as little as possible about the bloodline. Henry has warned you about my brother’s patience. For the sake of staying alive, you need to just do what you’re told for the time being.”
Sawyer was once again silent, not knowing how to react to the threat of losing her life.
“I’d ask you to sit, but being locked up has given you quite an unpleasant odor,” said the woman, wrinkling her nose. “You smell like that cell — dingy and damp. I’ll get you some clothes. You can use my shower.”
Flavia snapped her fingers, and within seconds, three women with dark hair and red eyes appeared. Flavia began speaking in a language Sawyer didn’t recognize, and within minutes, the women had returned with towels and clothes.
Sawyer followed the women to a bathroom, where the three women waited.
“Can I have a little privacy?” asked Sawyer.
“No,” one woman answered, without looking at Sawyer.
Not wanting to pass up the opportunity to get clean, Sawyer rolled her eyes and undressed before stepping into the waiting shower. Water poured from the showerhead and washed the dirt off her body.
Sawyer poured a dollop of citrus-scented shampoo into the palm of her hand and worked it into her curly, auburn hair. She massaged her scalp to wash her roots, and also felt around for any trace of a wound from when she’d been attacked. Still, she felt nothing.
After a luxurious fifteen minutes, Sawyer stepped out of the shower onto the plush bath mat.
A woman handed her a towel and a set of clean clothes. Sawyer quickly slipped into her a pair of dark blue skinny jeans, a tank top, a hoodie, and a pair of flat black shoes. It wasn’t fancy, but it was comfortable, and for that, she was grateful.
Flavia burst through the doors and demanded, “You must hurry. My brother wishes to be present for your blood test. You can’t keep him waiting.”
“Your brother?”
“You already met him, Sawyer. King Atticus.”
Chapter 2
Princess Flavia linked arms with Sawyer as they made their way through the fortress. Flavia led the way, while continually asking Sawyer questions about herself.
“So, you really don’t know anything about your parents?”
“Nope. Nothing.”
“Where do you live?”
“Minneapolis.”
“It’s freezing there.”
Sawyer rolled her eyes, “Well, nothing gets past you, does it?”
A loud, hearty laugh erupted from Flavia.
It wasn’t that funny, thought Sawyer as she looked sideways at her companion. Two sharp canines glistened from the artificial light overhead.
Sawyer stopped in her tracks, and asked, “You’re vampires, right?”
“If you’re a match, we’ll tell you a little bit more about ourselves and your ancestors,” said Flavia. “Now, let’s continue. How old are you?”
“No, you don’t just get to brush my questions aside. What are you?”
Flavia stopped in her tracks. “I can do whatever I want. And now is not the time for you to ask questions. Now, how old are you?”
The tone in Flavia’s voice made Sawyer concede. “I’m twenty-two.”
The women arrived at another set of doors, which opened almost immediately upon their arrival. The room was unwelcoming and sterile, like an operating room. A variety of tools that looked like torture devices were placed on a table. Sawyer gulped.
“Your Highness,” said two very large men as they bowed, greeting the princess.
She returned their greeting with kisses on their cheeks.
“A little cozy with the help?” asked Sawyer.
Flavia whispered, “Have you seen some of the guys around here? Of course I’m a little cozy with the help. When you’ve been alive as long as I have, you have to some kind of hobby to pass the time.”
“Men are your hobby?” laughed Sawyer. “And, how long have you been alive?”
Before Flavia could answer, a loud shout was heard from across the room.
“It’s about time, Flavia. Bring her here. I don’t want to be here all day,” screamed Atticus.
Sawyer looked across the room and caught his gaze. Atticus looked angry, but Sawyer believed the scowl had been on his face so long it had become permanent.
Sawyer released a sigh of relief when she saw Henry, allowing Sawyer to relax. He smiled at Sawyer, and she smiled back.
Atticus noticed the exchange and shot Henry a menacing look. Henry cast his eyes downward.
“Oh, dear brother,” said Fl
avia. “You must relax. Our girl needed a shower.”
“She’s not ‘our girl’,” roared Atticus. “Bring her here.”
A large man with dark hair and muscles that rippled from beneath his stark-white t-shirt grabbed Sawyer and threw her over his shoulder. He lifted her without effort and showed no signs of exerting any energy. It was as if she weighed as little as a piece of paper.
“I can walk just fine. You don’t need to carry me,” bellowed Sawyer. “Put me down.”
“I am the only one who gives orders around here,” said Atticus, appearing annoyed at how long the process was taking. He shouted, “This has taken up half the day. I’ll take the blood myself.”
A man with gloves and a lab coat backed away as Atticus moved closer to Sawyer.
The guard placed Sawyer in a hard metal chair that had restraints for her arms and legs. Sawyer fell silent as her heart rate increased. She watched as Atticus inhaled deeply and quickly looked away. Is my heart rate having an effect on him?
“Atticus!” screamed Flavia. “If you can’t handle a living, breathing human, you need to get out of here. If you harm her, I will never forgive you.”
Atticus exhaled, “I am fine, sister. I will not hurt her… yet.”
That last word took Sawyer by surprise, and she couldn’t hold back the tears. Would anybody ever find her? She had no idea where she was, but she felt like they were underground. The entire fortress smelled like earth, and since she’d arrived, she hadn’t seen one window. She was anxious that she’d never be able to escape.
Flavia wiped a tear from Sawyer’s face and offered a friendly caress on her arm. “This won’t hurt, Sawyer. Just a small prick.”
Atticus grabbed her arm, and a jolt of energy shot through Sawyer. Her entire body tingled from her head to her toes. She looked up into Atticus’s blue eyes and saw the same surprise that she felt. Did he feel that too?
Atticus, whose eyes were still locked with Sawyer’s, changed his expression to anger once again. His eyes narrowed, and his mouth turned into a snarl. Sawyer knew they both felt something, but what was their connection?