“After everything you have been through, I understand why you would risk your life to leave this place.”
“Why are you really helping me?” she asked in a soft whisper.
It was a simple enough question, but for some reason Avrum couldn’t find the right answer to tell her. Because Henri had deceived him? Because his ignorance had caused this to happen for so long? Because it was his fault? Because, despite everything, he did care about her?
They were all true, and the more he went over the reasons in his mind, the more his heart thudded in his chest.
“Avrum?” she called to him, pulling him from his thoughts. “Why are you helping me?”
He ran a hand over his face. “Because it is the right thing to do,” he said, “and if we are both going to survive this place, we need to work together.”
“Henri adores you,” she replied. “What do you have to fear?”
“Already what I have done would be considered treason to him, and if I am found out, I have no doubt that Henri would kill me.”
“Then why take the risk?” she said, eyes falling to her hands that rested in her lap. “I’m not worth it.”
Avrum closed the distance between them. He ran a finger over the smooth skin underneath the wound on her cheek. Her back straightened and her chin lifted to meet his gaze. “A person who can endure as much as you have and still be standing is rare to find. You are worth risking everything for.”
A smile flickered across her lips like a dying candle.
“I envy your strength,” he added with a quick, nervous laugh.
“I don’t know how much strength I have left.”
The desire to kiss her was overwhelming. His fingers slipped along her jaw line. “What has happened to you isn’t fair,” he told her, his expression serious again, “and I feel partially responsible for it. I want to make it right again, in any way I can.”
She blinked, as if realizing something, and turned her face away from him. His hand fell away and the rejection made his heart fall from his chest. He stepped away and went back to the bedroom door.
“I will have Emma come and draw you a bath,” he muttered. He opened the door, but paused before stepping through. He wished he could give her more words of comfort, something to let her know just how much she meant to him.
No words came to him then―nothing―so he offered her a small smile instead. He hoped it would somehow be enough to tell her everything he wanted to say but couldn’t.
* * *
Silver steam swirled and rose as Emma poured more hot water over Haven’s bare shoulders. She sat in the metal basin tub that had been brought in and placed at the foot of her bed, her knees drawn up to her chest. The smooth feeling of the water running over her frigid skin made her want to moan.
She let her hands drift in the water, back and forth, over her bruised wrists and arms. When her palms came to the surface again, she cupped them together to collect as much water as she could hold. The water still slid through her pruned fingers. The purple tint of her skin and the many wrinkles there reminded Haven of the scars on Avrum’s hands.
We keep the scars we earn as humans…Come back with me…
He made it sound like she was no longer alone. Just the idea of having him in the room now with her sent a strange feeling through her. It was more warming, more soothing than the water surrounding her. She felt the place on her cheek where Henri’s ring had left its mark. The softness of Avrum’s touch there was unlike anything she had ever experienced before. There was such tenderness to it, such kindness―all the things she had thought their kind were not capable of.
This wasn’t right. She shouldn’t be putting her trust into any of these inhuman creatures, especially the one who was so close to Henri’s side. She was supposed to hate him for everything that had happened to her. He was one of them—a vampire—and it was his kind that had taken her from her father and had imprisoned her here.
Her conscience scolded her for the thought. It hadn’t been him specifically. He wasn’t the one who had followed her home that night, broke into her home while her and her father were sleeping, and had given her the choice that would permanently brand her as Henri’s captive.
Haven squeezed her eyes shut as the memory of that night assaulted her. She had been sleeping. It was during the dead hours of the night when the earth seemed to stand still. The sound of glass shattering, followed by her father’s hoarse cry, jolted her from her bed. When she opened the door to the small living area, what she saw made her whole body freeze. Her father was pressed against the wall, his feet hovering inches from the boarded floors, and his fingers scratching at the hand that held him around the neck. A trail of ruby made its way down his temple, and more fresh blood stained his nightshirt and hands. The intruder’s back faced Haven, and he was growling something at her father that she could not hear.
A scream had lodged itself in her throat, but she must have made some kind of sound because her father’s wide, frantic eyes found her standing there motionless. His lips moved but she heard no words from him, only his terrible, choking gasps as the hand squeezed tighter on his neck.
That’s when the man turned his head to look over one broad shoulder.
She didn’t know it then, but that was the face she was going to get used to seeing and learn to hate.
He wore a black polished suit, white gloves, and a closed-lipped smile that spread across his strikingly handsome features. He held a cane in his other hand, which he gestured toward her in greeting as he bowed his head. Haven remembered how she thought him to be human at first, almost charming and perfectly poised.
That was until she saw his eyes. They were consumed with blackness, but shone with amusement and hunger as they scanned her body from head to toe. Whatever this man was, she knew he wasn’t human. Her whole being rattled with fear for her father, and now for herself. When he spoke to her, his voice was gentle and silken. He introduced himself, as any proper gentleman would, and then he gave her a choice.
It was going to be her father’s life or hers.
Haven blinked away the memory just as Emma poured more water over her shoulders. Kneeling beside the tub, the maid took a small towel, dipped it into the bath, and ran it over Haven’s back. The muscles ached but in a sweet kind of way. Emma continued down her spine. To prevent her mind from wandering to the past again, Haven fought to find words between them.
“I went to see my father again tonight,” she began, glancing up at Emma’s stoic face. She decided it was best to leave out the part about having no intention of returning or including her.
Emma’s round little face tilted up in interest, but her lips remained pressed into a straight line.
“I did not get very far, though. Avrum caught me before I even met the property’s gates.” Her voice cracked at the mention of Avrum’s name, and she swallowed to regain her composure. “He told me that Henri has appointed Keagan as my caretaker, and that I cannot try to see my father again.”
Haven sighed. Emma moved to dip the towel again and worked on washing her legs in the soapy water. “As long as my blood is coursing through Henri’s veins, he is connected to me and will be able to locate me at will.” Just the thought of it made her sick to her stomach again.
“Avrum said he would help me,” Haven told her, as if to remind herself as well. “I think if he did, he could help me find a way around Henri and out of here. Safely.” She paused and made sure to lower her voice even more. “I know you don’t like it when I talk this way, but I may have a real chance now. If Avrum and I come up with a real plan to escape here―”
“I want to go with you,” said Emma.
Haven’s wide eyes snapped to her in disbelief. “What?”
Emma’s shoulders fell, and she leaned back to rest her bottom on her heels. “I want to go with you. Leave this place.” The maid’s green eyes drifted away. “You were right, miss. I don’t belong here… We don’t belong here. I want to leave.”
&n
bsp; “Are you sure, Emma? I would never force you to join me, but if you do decide to, hesitation will only cause more danger. You will have to be sure.”
She gave one stiff nod. “Yes, I am sure.”
Haven wondered if Henri’s outburst in his bedroom had been the reason for Emma’s shift.
“Since Henri will always know where I am until my blood dies away in him, we will have to wait a few days and hope he does not feed from me.” She thought back to the night of Henri’s party and how she had been able to escape then. “It may help to wait for a night when he is distracted as well. That way he won’t have any need to check in on me.”
“Miss, do you think that Henri will not―”
Haven gave a bitter laugh. “Do I think he will go days without laying a hand on me or drinking from me? No, not at all.”
Emma’s face fell. “W-What will we do?”
Haven rested the side of her face on her knees and hugged them tighter to her chest. The more she thought of it, the more impossible it seemed. There had to be some way for them to get out of this hell. She just had to find a sure way.
“I will speak to Avrum.” Was the only solution she could offer. “Until then, I will try not to anger Henri and give him reason. When Avrum and I think of a plan, you will be the first to know.”
Emma let out a shaken breath, and her eyes shined with gathering tears. She lifted her chin in the air and nodded.
Haven was thankful for her strength. If they were going to make it out of this manor alive, they could not afford weakness. Crying would be one of the things that would have to wait until after.
“Please, m-miss…” Emma’s voice quivered and the fear of a fifteen-year-old girl began to show through again. “Just tell me the truth. Do you really think we will be able to escape, alive?”
Haven hesitated. She was going to escape, whether it meant through death or on foot. With so many odds pressing against them, it seemed that the answer to that question was not going to be the one Emma wanted to hear.
“I promise you, dear, that I will do everything I can to make sure you are safe.” She forced a smile, hoping it was enough.
Emma returned it.
Haven leaned back, crossing her arms about her chest to cover her naked breasts. The metal of the basin was cool against her back and made her shiver despite the warmth of the water.
“Would you like more hot water, miss?”
She nodded, sinking further into the tub. As the short stream cascaded over her, the thought of Avrum did as well. Gooseflesh crawled up Haven’s arms. She wasn’t sure if, this time, it was from the chill of the tub, or from the memory of Avrum telling her that she was worth risking his life for. As if, somehow, she meant more to him than just being a human pet for his lord.
7
Henri wasn’t in the courtyard, or in the ballroom. Avrum’s next stop was the library. He hoped he was there and not in his bedroom, wondering where Haven had gone off to. Since the moment Avrum had left Haven’s room, he had been thinking of a convincing excuse as to why Haven was taking a bath, safe, in her bedroom instead of tied up for him in his own. How was he going to lie to the man who created him?
Avrum walked through the library doors, his mind swimming with possible lies that he could say. His gaze rose to the windows across the room. One of the wingchairs had been moved to face the glass and, settled there, was the silhouette of a man.
The circular space was empty save for him. When Avrum tried to listen in for the sound of his heartbeat, what came to his ears was a slow, thunderous boom.
It was Henri.
The air around him hung heavy with his pending power. Avrum approached on quiet feet, afraid to wake the beast. He held his breath.
“Desire, desire I have too dearly bought, with price of mangled mind thy worthless ware,” Henri’s voice rose up, making Avrum freeze in his spot. “Too long, too long asleep thou hast me brought, who should my mind to higher things prepare.”
Avrum tried to swallow the knot that had formed in his throat. Was he speaking to him?
“But yet in vain thou hast my ruin sought. In vain thou madest me to vain things aspire. In vain thou kindlest all thy smoky fire. For virtue hath this better lesson taught, within myself to seek my only hire, desiring nought but how to kill desire.”
A weighted silence followed. Avrum didn’t know whether to leave the library or reply. He remained motionless.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?”
Avrum glanced about the room, wondering if the question was his to answer.
Henri stood and walked around the chair, his long fingers running up its arm, up to its back. In his other hand, he held a book bound in leather, his eyes transfixed on the open page. The sound of his heart remained at the same lolled pace, but Avrum could feel his own speed up.
“Sir Philip Sidney,” Henri said. His eyes lifted to meet Avrum’s over the book’s edge. “One of the best poets of his time.”
Avrum felt himself agreeing.
“Have you ever read any of his poetry?”
He shook his head.
With a flick of his wrist, Henri snapped the book shut. “I hope you aren’t bringing me bad news, Avrum,” he said with a brow raised.
“N-No, my lord.”
“Good,” he replied. “I am not in the mood for any bad news at the moment.” He inhaled, inflating his chest. “Now, what did you have to tell me?”
Avrum glanced down. Even after all that he had gone over in his head, after every excuse he had come up with, none of it seemed good enough to say aloud.
“Is it about Haven?”
Avrum’s blood pushed through his veins in a frantic race. He knew he couldn’t stay silent forever. “It is, my lord, but not for the reason you think.”
“Oh?”
“No, I’ve sent her for a bath…”
Henri’s face snapped toward him, and his eyes flared with anger. He tossed the book onto the chair and took two great steps toward Avrum. “You’ve taken her from my room?”
“Yes,” Avrum sputtered, “but with good reason―”
“Explain.”
Avrum’s fear made him pause, but he knew he had to help Haven. In order to do that, he had to gain some nerve. “I am sorry if I went against your wishes, my lord, but the heat of the water will relax her now and help restore her energy for later. I figured you would prefer it that way.”
“That is true.” To Avrum’s surprise, Henri nodded in agreement. “Although I was trying to teach her a lesson by keeping her there, I suppose a bath wouldn’t hurt.”
Avrum let out a shaken breath.
“I would prefer a word next time though,” Henri continued. He rubbed the dark hairs on his chin.
Avrum bowed his head. “Of course, my lord.”
Henri turned around and made his way back around the chair. He looked to the window, his face touched by shadow. “I am glad you are here, Avrum,” he said. “I actually have a bit of news to share with you as well.”
Avrum waited.
“As you know, there are others besides us,” said Henri. “Many more and some with power equal to or greater than my own. The world is vast beyond these walls.” He walked around the chair until he was facing him once again. He rested one hand in his jacket pocket and the other behind his back. “I have invited some good friends of mine to come and visit us, and I want to give them a warm welcome here. The last party you helped me with went so well, and I was wondering if you would help me this time, again.”
Avrum clenched and unclenched his jaw, but tried to keep all emotion from his face. Giving Henri his help was the last thing he wanted to do, but if he refused, he would suspect a change in him.
“When are they expected to arrive?” Avrum asked instead.
“By the end of the week.”
Avrum nodded and said in a flat tone, “I will plan for their arrival.”
“Excellent.” Henri moved to stand before him and rested his hand on his shoulder. His touch fe
lt weighted, like lead.
Avrum tried not to wince. He forced a smile, hoping Henri didn’t see his unease.
“Appointing you my second is proving to be one of the wisest decisions I have ever made.” Henri’s fingers curled into Avrum’s shoulder, but the expression on his face was friendly despite his hard grip. “Don’t let me down,” he said.
“I won’t,” Avrum muttered, thinking that Henri’s words sounded more like a warning than anything else.
* * *
Although every window Avrum passed on his way to the foyer had been closed tightly and hidden by heavy drapes, he could still feel the rise of the morning sun behind them. Because of Lysander’s suggestion to change his attire, Avrum had changed into tan slacks and a loose, ivory shirt.
When he reached the foyer, he found Lysander already there waiting for him, his blond hair tied back from his face and his arms crossed about his chest.
“Are you ready?” he said.
Even though Avrum was sure the sun was just starting to break over the horizon outside, the irritation on his friend’s face made him feel like he had arrived too late.
“Yes,” he replied, but the stern look in Lysander’s silvery eyes made him hesitate. “I suppose I am,” he corrected.
“You cannot just suppose.” Lysander spat the last word as if it was a curse on his lips. “If you wish to ever be good, you have to know. Always know what you want and what you are willing to risk to get it.”
Not knowing what he had meant by those words, he said nothing, only nodded.
Lysander grunted and began to walk away. “Follow me.”
They strode up the main staircase, through a small hallway, up another set of stairs, to the main hall where the bedrooms laid. Every door was shut tight, including Haven’s, which Avrum made sure to glance at as they passed. The gas lamps had been turned down low, and his vision sharpened against the darkness. He could see the lush, burgundy carpet that stretched out before them, the polished, cherry wood of the walls, and the gold sheen to Lysander’s hair as he strolled in front of him.
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