Sipping the chardonnay, I watched the movement of her neck as the wine traveled down. The thralls in the room began to sing and dance, and Sophie clapped her hands, encouraging them.
“And what do you think of the people who live there?”
She frowned. “Well, I don’t expect I know much about them, except that there does seem to be a great deal of them. I couldn’t keep track of who was what, they were all running to and fro, and all those children…” She put her hand to her chest. “They ran through the house as if it they never saw a spot of soap in their life! I had a mind to run a bath for the whole lot and dump them all in it.” Grinning, she looked at Treveti, whose fangs were now deeply embedded into the base of Tasha’s neck. Her head was thrown to the side, and her moans were getting louder. “Although,” Lula continued, “I don’t think I would mind growing up in a place like that.”
She swallowed hard as Treveti straddled Tasha, who began to unbutton his pants, then she looked at Rowan, who was staring at her with darkened eyes.
“And how do you think you would control that many children, yourself?”
Lula blinked and turned back to me. “Well, a lot like that, you’d have to rule with a firm hand. Show them kindness, of course, but you would have to keep a stiff grip on their necks to show them that they are not a pack of rats, but live in a civilized world, even though they are so far out.”
I nodded, considering her words and ignoring the thrumming noise from Rowan.
“And if one of them tried to rebel?”
“Well, I expect you’d have to make an example of him, wouldn’t you?” She blinked her eyelashes at me. “And then show him mercy and compassion, so that he understands that he’s still a valued part of the community, if he behaves himself.”
Rowan stood up now and Lula pushed herself away from me. I frowned at Rowan but he sat between us, eyeing her hungrily. I clicked my tongue and stood up; he was already pulling down the top of her gown. I watched her as she stared at him, her eyes hungry, and he leaned towards her neck while his hands fondled her softly. When she took his hand and lowered it, I turned towards Sophie who was seated next to her favorite thrall, drinking freely. One of her other thralls lay across her lap and, giving in to the temptation to eat again, I straddled her. She smiled and bared her neck, but I opened her gown to reveal the biggest pair of breasts I ever saw. Growling, I lowered myself to them. Lily sighed behind me and turned to leave, but I grabbed her hand and looked up at her with darkened eyes. “Later.”
She smiled coyly and I let go of her wrist. “Wait for me in my room.” I looked towards the window and noted that dawn would be here soon. “I’ll be there shortly, but you won’t sleep in my bed.”
As soon as I entered the hallway, the smell of Adelade pulled at me so strong, that instead of going to Lily, I went for Adelade’s room. I could hear the throbbing of her heart, feel the vibration as it tumbled down the hallway to run up my feet and throughout my whole body. I stalked her slowly, making myself unseen as I descended down the hallway. I stood outside her door, my ear to the soft wood, my trembling hand on the knob.
It didn’t make a sound as I opened it and I stood for a moment, catching my breath, as I stared at her sleeping form. She was so innocent, her face childlike and trusting as she slept in the house of the ultimate predator.
I could see the stake tucked under her pillow, likely given her by Bennett. Good. He had warned her sufficiently.
And yet, the side of my mouth lifted at her naïveté. As if she could conquer the strigoi with a stroke of her stake. I could kill her with my pinky finger, her puny little arm held no strength against one such as I.
Her heartbeat picked up as if it knew that I was near, even though I was not visible to the eye. Her instincts were spot on. Her breathing increased and she even cried out, which drew me to the back end of the room for fear of scaring her further. I was worse than anything in her worst nightmare, my cursed living and the powers that I held, she was child’s play under my ministrations. As her blood called to me, I trembled against the back wall, willing my control over my strigoi. The fact that I had already eaten twice tonight wasn’t sufficient for her siren’s call, and I imagined the second it would take to mount her and partake of the most delicious claret known to strigoi. Blood lust: the kind kings went to war for, the real reason women were enslaved, and it bade me taste as she slept helplessly before me. It beaconed to me like I was the slave and it, my master.
I crept closer, step by step, until I could feel her breath on my face and see the trickle of sweat that sprinkled her lips. She moaned again, and I clasped the sheets of the bed. My senses reached out, uncontrollably, to feel her, to know her. I wanted to know what was in her mind, her heart. What caused her to sweat and to cry out, even though she lay unconscious?
She cared for her father, and hid her grief by working to the bone to clean my house. My house. Anger flooded through my body. My servants were given instructions that she was not to work, but to be served like royalty. She cared for Sophie and Lula, and even held a touch of concern for the people who served me, even though they treated her with disdain. She worried about them and their safety and felt that they treated her unfairly because of the rumors about her mother. I growled softly. They would be thoroughly punished, and made to bow at her feet for treating her such. I rarely lay a hand on my servants, but disobedience wouldn’t be tolerated, especially for one such as the daughter of Colleen.
She also held a secret, so deep and dark that I could not pull it from her. Intrigued, I touched her hand and a warmth traveled up my arm so quickly that I yanked my hand away. What demon magic was this?
She turned, suddenly facing me and my incisors descended as I watched the pulse at her neck beat. I breathed in deeply; it held the sweetest smell. I leaned closer and my nose was on her neck. Just a little taste would satisfy me, I only needed a thimble of her vitality. I brushed her hair away from her face and she mumbled in response. I rubbed her neck with my nose. Just a small taste, that’s all it would require to satisfy my strigoi, and she never need know.
“Detrand.”
I fell back onto the floor, revealing myself. I hadn’t even heard Sophie enter.
“What are you doing here?”
My annoyance spilled out, and my strigoi burst out of me. “Never get in between me and my prey.” I growled, low and menacing, and pounced on her.
“Detrand, you mustn’t taste her.”
“What do you know of it? Who are you to command me?” I was on top of her and she gripped my arms tightly, her back pressed to the floor. I leaned down, showing her my teeth, and I could feel her tremble in fear under me.
“You cannot yet control yourself. You would kill her.”
I fell upon her, choking, the realization that she was right flowing over me. My misgiving for killing Colleen’s daughter would rival only my betrayal to Sophie, and I forced my will over my strigoi. It fought me, and I turned to the only being who could help me. “Help,” the only words I could manage, as my strigoi threatened to overtake me again.
Suddenly I was being pulled into my room.
“Leave us.” Sophie motioned to Lily, who was gone in an instant, and then we were on the bed and she was straddling me and pulling off her nightgown. Before I knew it, I was inside her, tearing from her neck and gulping down the mercy she was offering to me. As I began to gather my mind, I realized the terrible situation that I’d put myself in; knew that this moment would forever change my relationship with Sophie, and that I’d betrayed her once again. And yet, I clasped her to me, pulling her blood deeper into my throat to chase away the demons as she cried out over me.
Chapter Eight
Adelade
I dreamed of him again, but this time he stood so close to me that the smell of horses and wood drifted through my nose. I wanted to touch him, to run my fingers over his whole body but instead I felt compelled to stare at him silently, unmoving.
We stood at the edge of the
water. He was staring out over the landscape, watching the stillness of the reflection of the moon on the water. He didn’t recognize my presence, and the sudden desire to grip his shirt and shake him was so strong that I had to pull on my skirt to keep me from touching him. Why wouldn’t he look at me? Couldn’t he see me? I was here. Right in front of him. My heart threatened to burst from my chest and I shook with my desire. I cried out, willing him to look at me, to notice me.
Then, he did. He turned towards me and, pulling me close, he leaned his head on mine and sighed. He ran his hand through my hair, caressing it softly. I leaned into him, my desire seeping through my whole body, and I shivered as the wind blew through my dress, making it float around me.
My thoughts were then being pulled from me and I was revealing my innermost thoughts to him. I gasped, as my personal life was being ripped from me. My grief for the death of my father and the difficulty of my tasks to clean such a large household, his household, was revealed to him. I felt his anger spark, and I wondered what made him so angry. He dug deeper, and he knew of my love for Lula and Sophie, for their kindness knew no bounds, and I tried to pull away because he was getting closer to my secret.
Sensing my retreat, he dug into me deeper, willing my mind and body to answer him. And then he was on it; he’d found my secret spot, the one I hid from everyone. He knew it was there and he wanted it.
I resisted; I wouldn’t give it to him, he couldn’t have it. If he knew my desire for him, I held no doubts that he would throw me from his house. I buried it so deep into my heart that he would never find it.
He could never know my truth.
And then the water stirred and a woman stepped out of it. Her hair was long and dark but I couldn’t see her face. She held her hand out, calling his name, and he stepped away from me. I reached out, but my hand only went through him as if he were an apparition.
She bade him again and he stepped into the water. He reached for her and she grasped his hand and then they disappeared under the water.
I fell to my knees in agony. I wanted to call to him, to make him come back to me, but I knew that he wouldn’t return. So I wept instead, as a wave of loneliness crashed over me, and I was alone in the stillness except for the lone crow that circled above me.
Frustrated, I stepped into the hallway the next morning, prepared to clean every inch of every chimney to work out my displeasure. If Detrand chose to ignore me, I wouldn’t wait around for him to notice me. I was done with the longing, my lust running through my veins and the constant slights that he gave me every time he saw me. I’d attempted to aid him when he was stabbed, and the crushing feeling in my chest when he sent me away was motivation to move on from this curse and to procure other circumstances.
As soon as the maid walking down the hallway saw me exit my room, she stopped, her eyes wide, and stared at me. I turned to speak to her, but she began to back away until she turned suddenly and ran away. Frowning, I moved down the hallway and through the rooms but no one was to be found.
Shrugging, I knelt at the fire in the main room and began to stir it. It would be a blessing for Lula when she arose. I added more wood, but as soon as I began to stir it, a maid rushed to me.
“Hello.” I tried to be civil.
“No, no, you are not to touch the fire.” She took the poker from me and began to stir it, shooing me out of the way. I watched her silently, rubbing my arms. When she didn’t explain herself, I sighed and turned towards the kitchen to eat breakfast.
As soon as I sat at the empty table, the scullery maid brought out my food and slammed my plate down. When I began to ask for some juice, she slipped back into the kitchen, ignoring my request. Frowning, I ate quickly, and then, exhausted from this type of behavior from the staff, I went to the kitchen. I wouldn’t normally pursue the issue, but today I felt especially horrible.
I called out for the scullery maid but she slipped out the back door and into the garden. Angry, I made to go to her but Phyllis, the main cook, emerged from her office to stand in front of me.
“You must go back into the main house.”
“Let me speak to her.” My voice was demanding. “I have done nothing to deserve this form of behavior.”
She shook her head, her face hard. “You’re not to be in my kitchen.”
I made a grunting noise deep in my throat. “I cannot change the circumstances of my mother’s death and won’t allow the staff in this house to treat me so degradingly.”
Phyllis’s face softened. “Your mother?”
I nodded, trying to hold onto my anger; I wouldn’t let her deter me.
She made a noise with her teeth, and put her hand on my shoulder. I looked into her eyes; they were gentle, but I set my mouth, waiting for her response.
“Child, this has nothing to do with your mother. The maid is half afraid of you, half jealous. Just let her be for the time being.”
“It doesn’t have to do with my mother? I’m so confused.”
She laughed softly, and I felt myself blush. “No child.”
“Then why do they treat me so? I’m merely trying to work as payment for my father’s debt.”
Her laugh was louder now and the sound of it lifted my spirits, even though I was deeply confused. “It’s because the Master demands it.”
I hissed. “Don’t poke fun.”
Her laughter ceased, but she pushed me towards the door of the kitchen. “I speak the truth. You are to be served upon, hand and foot.”
“How could I…? Why would he…?” I stared at her, my mouth open, unsure how or why he would require such a thing.
She shrugged. “I have no understanding of the Master’s ways. I only know what I’m told.” She looked at me sternly, and shook her finger. “And you aren’t allowed to touch the chimneys or anything else, or the Master will reprimand the staff, eh?”
I took her meaning, and swallowed hard. She then touched my cheek softly and disappeared back into the kitchen.
I spent the morning sitting on the couch staring at the now dwindling fire. Lula, and especially Sophie, would not wake for some hours and I knew not what to do with myself. My hands fidgeted with my dress, and I longed for company, or a little heat, at least. However, my fear for the treatment of the staff outweighed my desire to warm myself. I attempted to call to them, but my voice came out a small peep, and I couldn’t force myself to make my wishes known. So I gathered my coat and left the house.
I spent the day searching the streets for any opportunity to find myself an occupation. I studied the way the boys worked on the docks, where I once felt at home. I approached the foreman and requested work, but he shook his head sadly, and explained that there was already a shortage of work and there were several men who had families to feed who would come first.
I agreed readily and headed towards town. Shop after shop, I received rejections of my offer to help. Some were abrupt brush-offs, with comments regarding my feminine nature, and other shops already had plenty of help from their own family members.
Dejected, I moved towards the street that held the widows because I’d managed to procure some discarded food for them. Many of them were absent, but I passed out what I could until I only had some meager strips of bread left. I moved towards the end of the road where a lone widow sat.
As I drew nearer, an intense feeling of warning washed over my body and my feet began to drag. My hands drooped, and I almost dropped the bread, but I pushed myself forward, intent on delivering this last morsel to the woman before me. Her body was so emaciated that her skin stretched over her face in such a strange sort of deformity that even the placement of one of her eyes was higher than the other.
As I approached, she smiled at me, and her blackened front tooth took up the whole of her mouth. It lay slightly slanted, and I attempted not to draw my eyes to it, so I stared into her dark eyes which made me shiver.
She grabbed the bread I handed to her and shoved it into her mouth. My feeling of unease intensified now that I w
as only a moment’s glance from her. I turned to flee but her hand whipped out, pulling the edge of my dress.
“My sister.”
I pulled away, deathly afraid now, and had no care if my dress ripped. Instead, she managed to draw me closer. I could hear the way her breath escaped from her mouth in a harsh whistle, “My sister, she is missing. Where is she?”
I gripped her hand, trying to wrestle my dress from her deathly grasp, and cried out. “I’m sure I have no idea.”
“You have the mark of darkness, that hides in the shadows of your face. You know where she is.”
My mouth dropped open, afraid of what she might see. I crossed myself, praying that she was wrong, and moved to kick her so that I could be free from her.
“She has a daughter, a baby, who cries into the night for her.”
At this I was still, for I understood all too well the longing for a missing mother I leaned down. “What happened to her?”
“It was the strigoi. They’ve taken her.”
At the mention of the word strigoi, which was never spoken unless you were very familiar with them and unafraid of the consequences, my heart began to beat faster.
“How do you know? What has she to do with them?”
The woman clasped my shirt and drew me in closer. Her breath washed over me and it reeked of death and horror. I coughed, trying to dispel it.
“She went to them. I warned her that she wouldn’t return, but she didn’t listen. She went to them in the day, to that horrible house, and never returned.” She shook me roughly and bits of moist bread sprayed my face as she spoke again. “I warned her that he would kill her. He attempts to smile and tempt you with his charms, but the ugliness of his face reveals his true thoughts, the darkness that resides in him.”
Horror washed over me and I yanked myself out of her grasp and ran away, afraid for my very life. I rushed through the streets, trying to dispel the evil feeling that wouldn’t leave me. My mind sifted through the strigoi known by me, trying to determine who could be the killer. As I neared the house, I determined to investigate the strigoi with whom I associated more closely.
A Vampire's Seduction (A Dark Hero Book 1) Page 11