Breakfast was a poorly attended meal, most arriving just as it was about to end, heavily hungover and grumpy, eyes glazed and flitty.
The census ended quickly, and thereafter about a half of the Draugr population left back to their lives, that being the only compulsory part of attendance.
However the rest remained on, most wishing to watch the trials and wanting to vote on any new regulations later, only a few having court cases and tribunals to report to.
After Ejner’s initial realisation that she could handle society just fine, he’d gone ahead and asked her to throw another dinner party. This time it was for the High Council members, though Jon and Pendo were of course invited, as was Xiu.
Luckily that night, there was no indulging, but she got to hear about the Gunnarsens. That which she’d so long feared to ask but wished to find out was finally confirmed. Lord and Lady Gunnarsen were in fact alive and well, and though she hadn’t personally met them, they had been at the census assembly. Now Anja understood why Raven had insisted that she was to remain by her side, and would so often change positions, wanting to show her that or the other, seeming impatient to be done with the whole ordeal and get back home. Raven had acted as much ill-at-ease as she had. Anja had attributed it to her hangover after the indulgence the previous night, but now she knew it arose from her need to protect her Aunt from her past.
How ill-fitting, that a child should wish to protect her aunt of twice her age.
But finally, the High Council did leave, and her home was hers again to relax in and unroll. Her brother noticed how greatly ill-at-ease she was, and suggested her going out to ride, to which she promptly accepted.
Her darling stallion was not to disappoint, but her blood still boiled, and she was in great need of expending. So in that moment she jumped off her horse, tied her dress just above her hips, kicked off her shoes, and took to running.
There was no telling exactly how long she ran. All she knew was that it was dark when she began, but now the sun was creeping up over the horizon when she finally slumped flat onto her back, completely wiped out.
And then for the first time in a while, since this craziness of the general assembly began, she laughed. She laughed so hard that she cried, staining her face and dinner dress.
She was later to find Lucky still grazing where she left him, and picking up her shoes, she jumped onto him and rode back to the stables.
She was very famished, her stomach growling with demand for food and more, as she made her way into the house.
That was when she heard them. Well, in all honesty, she smelled the blood before she heard them, and with it came the reminder of how hungry she was. She was partly glad, mainly because she’d finally face one of those situations she most dreaded, as well as glad that she wouldn’t have to ring up for her maid to feed her.
She walked into the study, the heavy scent of sex, blood and cigarettes filling the room, as her eyes adjusted to the dim lighting. In the second it took her eyes to adjust, the others then noticed that an intruder was with them.
Her brother’s eyes found hers, as he turned awkwardly, the half-blood on the table still sucking furiously at his cock, while Kjeld fucked her cunt. Jon was on the other end of the room in a more complicated three some with his Pendo and a very eager blond.
“Sister!” Her brother exclaimed, pulling his cock out of the possessive mouth, an apologetic look on his face. “I..”
“Please don’t apologise, Ejner,” she rushed to reassure him, reminding herself to be diplomatic about all this. If she wasn’t so emotionally broken, she wouldn’t be adverse to doing the same.
“I was only famished, and knew I might find a quick snack in here,” she then said, talking a few more steps inside.
“Take Marjorie!” Her brother suggested without hesitation, and the named girl quickly rushed her way, offering her already severely wounded neck.
“Your arm please,” Anja said to the girl, who looked momentarily hesitant, before lifting it her way.
“Please, don’t mind me,” is all Anja said, before she sank her fangs into Marjorie’s wrist. She was a heavy set woman, but it was clear she’d already lost too much blood, so Anja took from her only as much as she could manage, before carefully licking her wounds.
She then stepped back, but then changed her mind and proceeded to lick the girl other wounds which were still leaking, some of them in the most questionable places, until her wounds began to heel again.
“Get dressed, and go eat something rich in iron, like liver, and then rest yourself,” she kindly instructed the woman, who nodded before leaving obediently, clear instructions in her mind stopping her from turning back and begging to be fucked like most humans do when in the presence of Draugrs.
“I hope she wasn’t any of your favourites, her blood pressure was much too low,” Anja said apologetically to her brother, who was now being ridden by another human, leaving Kjeld to fully command the half-blood’s attentions.
“Not particularly at the moment,” Ejner told her, holding the eager woman off him as he spoke, causing the woman to squirm and plead for him. “She was too tired in any case,” he finished off.
“As do the rest appear, brother,” she counselled, before turning away. “Send them to rest soon, day is upon us,” were the last words she uttered before the door slid shut behind her.
XVII
The general assembly did finally come to its last day, blessedly. The only thing now left was the ball. It was voluntary, and luckily, her brother didn’t ask her to attend, of which she’s most glad for. Instead, she saw to prepare Raven for it, helping her find the perfect dress and the perfect accessories, for the perfect beauty that she was, in Anja’s eyes.
It was unclear on who doted on her more, her father or her aunt. Her happiness and well-being were something brother and sister would never argue about.
“I hope I should meet with Síle,” Raven was saying as Anja set her hair.
“Pray, tell me, who is Síle?”
“Don’t you know her? Only the most beautiful woman in the whole world! Her skin practically glows, and her head is of blazing red curls that greatly contrast with her burning green eyes..”
“Of house Brandon?” Anja asked, the description bringing to mind the said family.
“Not of house, Aedan’s true sister, Síle Brandon.”
“And why should you be so interested in her?”
“Because..” her niece had answered, fidgeting with discomfort. “I just am.”
“A pure-blood?”
“Do you think me below her..?”
“Of course not, dear child!” Anja rushed to exclaim, turning her around so that her niece may see her eyes and know that what she was saying was true. “I think you the most beautiful and radiant of all, pure-blood or not. You can have whomever you want.” Raven now giggled happily, a blush showing up on her defined cheekbones.
“What do you think father would be most aversed to, the fact that she’s a woman, or that she’s a pure-blood?”
“Even if she were a human, and the most harmless of their kind, I still think your father would be against the idea, merely because he risks losing you as his little girl.”
“He’d never lose me!” The girl said resolutely, turning back to the mirror, letting her aunt work her hair. “I would just move my mate into the house, and continue living with father and you,” the delightful child went on to say, and Anja couldn’t find the heart to tell her that she could never live in a coven, and living with one that wasn’t blood family constituted a coven, and covens made Draugrs wilder. Why else would she of all Draugrs have managed to condone the bingeing that has been going on in her brother’s house this past month? And how much longer would it take, were their guests to stay on, before she would join in?
A knock sounded in the door right then before it was pushed open, and Anja turned to find Pendo looking dreadfully out of sorts.
“Pardon me,” she rushed on to say. “I wouldn�
��t have come, if I knew you were here,” she addressed Anja. The two of them have being playing a cat and mouse game this past month, finding themselves in each other’s company only when they must.
“Don’t worry about it,” Anja rushed to reassure her.
After watching her and Jon indulging, she’d yet reaffirmed to herself that she was definitely not the woman for Jon. He’d seemed so free, acting so wild and carefree, unburdened by her preachings of guilt, and when he’d seen her, his face had contracted with contrite and remorse, and his eyes darkened. Then she’d realised that the look she often mistook for empathy in the past, was actually the look of guilt he wore for that which he wished to do but knew he oughtn’t because of her. Yet another step she needed to take to farther let go of him.
“What can we help you with?” Anja prompted.
“It is most embarrassing- the shoes I bought for the ball, the most appropriate ones with me, are unfortunately a size larger,” she went on to say, stepping into the room, letting the door into Raven’s dressing room swing shut behind her.
“Could I be so bold as to borrow a pair from you?”
“Unfortunately, balls are not high on my list of events to attend, so I have none that could match. But Raven’s shoe racks are heavily overstocked, and if she doesn’t mind..”
“I don’t mind at all!” Raven rushed on to say. “But only if you are a size six. I do not wish to widen my shoes. They might be a tad too many, but I love them all dearly!” The two older women laughed at the girl’s passionate utterances.
“I assure you, my one foot is size five, and the other five and a half. I’ve never understood why my feet were so ill-fitted, but luckily, I shall not be deforming your shoes.”
“Perfect! My friends would never believe it were I to tell them that Pendo Mazoki herself borrowed my shoes!” Pendo laughed at this good-naturedly.
“Well, first it would do us well to find me the right shoes!”
“Very true! Which kind would you like?”
“I’m looking for slippers. Preferably silver, high and thinly heeled. Straps unnecessary but preferable.”
“I think I have about four pairs that fit your descriptions,” Anja’s niece said as her aunt placed the last pin in her hair. “Check the second row at the back, after the ankle boots, but before the pumps.”
Pendo now disappeared into the walk-in closet, leaving Raven and Anja alone as they discussed the makeup she was to wear.
“I’d go with the cherry lipstick instead of the red. You want it to stick out, remind all of your femininity, but not too much so as to make others thinks you’re a tad too forthcoming,” Pendo said as she reemerged with the shoes she’d picked out, which looked most becoming on her feet, under the exquisite burgundy ballroom dress she had on, the shoes matching the silver of her dainty necklace and earrings, the small diamond stones set in them almost hidden to obscurity. Almost.
The rich colour of her dress accentuated the warm coffee tone of her skin and the warm tones the rings in her eyes boasted, while greatly contrasting the silver of her accessories, making them stand out. It was no wonder that she’s a princess, for her father is most definitely the king of the south, as her father had once being the king of the North before the great tragedy and public airing of dirty family laundry that saw to it that Ejner’s surname was trudged through mud, and the Nordskov family fell off their pedestal, or as it was commonly referred, fell from grace to grass.
“You look beautiful,” Anja conceded, meeting the pure-blood’s eyes, watching as they widened with surprise, then slight embarrassment.
“Thank you,” she said hesitantly, finding it hard to meet her complimenter’s eyes, almost as though embarrassed, or guilty, maybe because of Jon.
“You two make a most handsome pair, and I want you to know that I wish you all the happiness in the world,” Anja surprised the princess further by adding, leaving her speechless.
“Thank you,” Pendo Mazoki finally managed, before rushing towards the door. “Thank you,” she said again, before the door swung shut after her, leaving her niece giggling.
“I think you bewildered the princess!” Raven then said, chuckling, as her eyes met her aunt’s.
“You are the only princess I know of, and I don’t see you bewildered!” Anja then joked, turning towards the make-up set before them.
“Now, let’s try this cherry shade she mentioned,” Anja continued to say, picking up the said lipstick.
XVIII
Anja enjoyed the silence that settled over the house once the whole party left for the ball, using the time to paint the image of her mother laughing in the gardens that Old Torben had just freshly tended to, as she most liked to remember her mother.
She painted her in the grey dress that she often wore, its lighter shaded collar turned down, her lips widened into a held back laugh, as she watched her play with the butterflies in the garden, Old Torben leaning against his rake as he watched after her too. Joy. That was the image she used to describe the emotion.
“It’s beautiful..” she was so startled upon hearing him speak behind her that she jumped, accidentally kicking at her cup of water with soaked paint brushes, which tipped over the work and ruined it all.
Even a picture of her mother’s happiness she was to be denied.
“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean too..”
She turned his way with so much anger, that upon seeing her eyes he started back, as though scared of her, or the expression of anger on her face.
How preposterous! She thought to herself! He only wished to mock her.
“How dare you..? What are you doing here?”
“I came back early..”
“You maybe thought that with my brother absent, you could take some liberties with me, like when I’d been a child, maybe get some delicious half-blood..!”
“No! I assure you that isn’t it..” She was now blinded by rage, and a desperate need to once and for all set to right that which had gone unpunished for too long.
“You came here after meeting with your parents at the ball, and them reminding you just how good I used to taste, huh? That’s why you came back earlier, to get just a little taste of that which you once upon a time took so freely..”
“Anja..”
“Never again, you hear me!” She was now on him, slapping at him, flaying his skin with her nails, sinking her teeth into him as she attempted to protect herself, but it never registered in her mind that he wasn’t fighting back.
“I won’t let you do that again, not without a fight,” she went on, shredding him apart, throwing him across the room, rushing after him when he attempted to get away.
Her predatory instincts then kicked in, and all she wanted was to hunt him down, and hear him whine with pain, so when he started running, she started hunting him.
“I can hear you, pure-blood! Oh please do make it a more interesting chase!” She taunted, powered on by her desire for revenge.
She wanted him scared, she wanted him cowering away from that which was now inevitable, her continued feeding on him. Just as she lay scared many afternoons as she waited for suppertime, and the feeding that would follow after.
“Oh, come on! The guest wing, really? I have keys for that..”
“You are not yourself!” He called back, and she could hear him bolt one door after another. She chuckled to herself bitterly before answering.
“We can’t be sure now, can we? For I will never know what it is to be myself. Maybe when I take back all the blood you took from me..”
“Snap out of it.. You could drain me!” He cried out, as she opened the first door to the guest wing that he’d bolted.
“Mayhap,” is the simple answer she gave after the lock clicked open, but upon pushing the door, it remained jammed. He’d stuck something behind it. The ancient chest of drawers in that hallway.
“You don’t even like the taste of my blood! It does nothing to you!”
She didn’t answer him yet, but in
stead kicked in the door hard, sending the massive door and ancient furniture set behind it flying across the guest hallway.
“Oh, but I do enjoy your panic after I take one drop after another,” she said, stepping into the corridor and walking leisurely, her senses corked to smell his scent, or see any quick movements he might make, or listen to his much lower sounding heartbeat than that of humans.
“Your emotions as I feed on you make for a rather.. enjoyable venture.”
Got you! She thought to herself pleased, stepping into the sunroom, finding him poised with the ancient knights sword ready to attack, that he must have taken from the knight armour in the hallway. She’d heard the clink and then the crash as the armour fell, but she just assumed he’d fallen with it.
So he had a weapon, and so?
“A sword? Are you now going to cut off my head after taking my life’s essence from me my whole childhood?” She questioned, her words laced with venom as she gave off a bitter laugh. “What’s that saying among John’s people? Ahsante ya punda, huh?”
“I.. You are not yourself..”
“Aaargh!” she growled at him, leaping towards him like an enraged tiger, swinging away in time before his sword landed on her.
“I told you,” as contrasted to her growl, her words were quietly delivered now, and he could swear she once again looked like the timid teenager he remembered from childhood.
“I told you, I don’t know who I am. So how can you? I’m like a broken mirror of a thousand shards of glass glued together. Most parts don’t fit, placed in the wrong places, many pieces lost, and other crushed to grains too small to be glued back. I can’t remember ever being whole. I’m also just like the scattered images reflected in that mirror, hundreds of incomplete scattered images,” she continued with her low voice, the raw emotions behind her words touching the pure-blood.
Redemption (Dawn of the Damned Book 1) Page 11