The Vampire Debt (Shadow World: The Vampire Debt Book 1)

by Ali Winters

  He lists his head to the side, and I notice the slight narrowing of his eyes, the corners crinkling. His mouth twitches, not quite forming a sardonic smile.

  We stare at each other a long moment before he turns away, facing my father once more.

  “Perhaps, when you return this way—” Father tries.

  “No.” The vampire cuts him off sharply, returning his attention to Father and taking a menacing step toward him. “I will not be back this way for some time, I must collect the debt owed to me and be on my way. I’m sure you can think of something…”

  I glance to Kitty, as she keeps her head down, working on her stitching and trying hard not to notice the tension in the room.

  “My daughter,” Father blurts out, waving a hand toward Kitty. “Take Katherine, she will make a lovely wife.”

  “Your—” Mr. Devereaux starts and seems to nearly choke on the words.

  “No!” I know I shouldn’t interrupt, but I can’t allow him to give away my sister as if she means nothing. I can’t allow her to become a meal for one of these monsters.

  Mr. Devereaux once again swivels his attentions in my direction, and I know from the curve of his lips before he schools his features that he will accept.

  “No,” I say again, glad my voice doesn’t shake this time. “Not Kitty, she is too young. I will go instead.”

  The words shock everyone in the room just as much as they shock me, but I dare not take them back. I lift my chin as our guest steps closer. He studies me once more with the same look he had earlier, but this time he doesn’t attempt to hide it from anyone.

  “Not Clara,” Father says. “She’s—” But he doesn’t get to finish.

  Mr. Devereaux slices his hands through the air to silence him. “She will do. Our debts are settled.”

  “Sh-she is worth more than the debt I owe you!”

  Kitty snuffles in the corner. I hate this insufferable man. I am used to his hate, his abuse, and every part of his horrible nature. Poor Kitty is not.

  His words and his meaning hit home. Kitty isn’t worth anything to him, but I am. Not because he loves me, I doubt there’s any part of him that knows love—but because I can provide him with money to gamble away.

  He disgusts me.

  “Mmm, perhaps you are right.”

  My head snaps up toward Mr. Devereaux, hope springing in my chest that my initial reaction was wrong. That same hope crashes down around me like so much shattered glass as he reaches within a pocket and produces a pouch, heavy with coin.

  “This should cover the difference… and then some. You will find this offer to be more than fair.” There’s a strange vibration to his words.

  Father looks from the pouch to me, then back. I’m frozen in place. No, no. Please no, I mouth shaking my head and praying that he will refuse.

  Kitty looks down at the crumpled handkerchief in her lap. I want her to say something. Anything. Why isn’t she protesting?

  This entire situation is mad. What sort of man trades his daughter to pay off his debts?

  The pouch lands with a clunk on our rough-hewn table. Father’s eyes glow at the size of it. My heart stops for an excruciatingly long moment as he decides. It should be easy.

  Refuse! Refuse the damned offer, you bastard! I fling my thoughts toward him, willing him to do the right thing.

  I am crushed, though not surprised, when Father picks up the bag and extends his right hand out. “I find this offer more than fair,” Father repeats. “You have a deal.”

  Mr. Devereaux shakes his offered hand.

  It is done.

  I have been traded for my father’s debts. Kitty smothers a strangled sob, but I can’t look away from the man who now owns me. I stand in place, my body numb. I can barely remember how to breathe right now. I want to scream and rage and refuse. I want to take Kitty and leave these two to sort out their debts on their own.

  The vampire faces me, looking far more devious than he had earlier. “It is time for you to pack, Miss Valmont—we must be on our way.”

  I stand frozen in place.

  “Clara, it is time for you to pack,” Father says placidly. He’s looking at me, but it feels as though he isn’t truly seeing me at all. “Do not make Mr. Devereaux wait.”

  Then the vampire turns to Kitty and smiles. Her face goes deathly pale.

  I take that for the threat it is and hurry to my room.

  My mind goes blank. I can’t even think what to pack. And there is only a single trunk split between Kitty and me. I can’t take it with me, leaving her with nothing.

  Kitty hurries in behind me. “Clara,” she says desperately in a hushed whisper. “Are you really going to let him take you?”

  I grab my hunting bag and stuff what I can inside. Two shirts and a spare pair of trousers. I have no room for anything nicer—not that I have any desire to look nice for that beast in the other room. As a last second thought, I shove my hunting knife into my bag and bury it beneath the clothes.

  “I have no choice…”

  “Clara!” Father shouts from the other room. “What in the Otherworld is taking you so long?”

  “Clara,” she whimpers. “Do not let that monster bed you.” Her eyes focus on the door at my back. “Kill him... Kill him then return home to me.” She clasps my hands pleading.

  I am not sure what I’d expected her to say, only that this wasn’t it.

  I smile and nod as if I’ll do just that and be back in a week's time. Though, if I were to kill him, my life would be forfeit. Either way, I’ll never see my sweet sister’s face again.

  “Promise me,” she begs again.

  “I promise,” I say, gathering her up in a tight hug.

  Chapter Six

  Clara

  A hand wraps around my upper arm, pulling me away from Kitty and dragging me toward the door.

  “I wasn’t finished,” I protest, fighting Father’s hold.

  “You do not need to bring anything at all,” the vampire says. “Everything you might need will be provided for you.”

  I cut my eyes to him, trying to infuse my look with all the hate I can muster.

  Of course I don’t need to bring anything. I probably won’t make it far enough to even need the clothes I managed to gather.

  “Wait!” Kitty calls out from behind us all. There’s an urgency to her voice I never knew possible.

  Mr. Devereaux looks expectantly at her, and she hesitates for a second then hurries to Father’s far side, trying to put as much distance between her and the vampire as possible.

  It’s only once she’s around Father that I see what was so urgent. My heart plummets. She clutches at my book. And without fuss or another word, she hands it to me before scurrying off to the far corner of the room.

  Father shoves me out the door, finally releasing me from his bruising grasp. As soon as the vampire is over the threshold, the door slams shut.

  I gape at the weather worn wood, jaw slack.

  He had given me away to my doom so easily. I knew he never loved me, but this stings in a way I never thought possible.

  “Come, Miss Valmont,” the vampire practically purrs my name, motioning to the opulent carriage that awaits us down the long driveway.

  Holding back the sting of tears, I turn away from the only home I’d ever known and into the hands of my death.

  My legs feel weak with every step. He follows a step behind, one hand out as though he will place it on my lower back to urge me on if I stop.

  We reach the carriage in what feels like seconds. The driver stays seated, not once looking back. Mr. Devereaux opens the door for me and once more motions me forward.

  I set my bag on the floor inside and climb up on the step. With one foot still on the ground, I pause, gripping the metal handle so hard my skin stings from rubbing the smooth surface. My heart pounds hard against my sternum.

  I don’t want to get in. I will be dead before we reach the edge of town.

  “I didn’t get to say good
bye,” I mutter. It’s pathetic and I stand to gain absolutely nothing from it. I suppose I say it for my own sake.

  “Get in,” he says, unsympathetic to my plight.

  I spin around so fast I nearly lose my balance. “Where’s the chaperone?”

  He blinks once and arches a single, dark brow. “What chaperone?”

  “The one that should be accompanying us,” I say, giving a decisive nod as if this were a common occurrence between the two of us—as if he were a normal man.

  “You’re stalling.”

  “I am not.” My pulse kicks up.

  Except I know damn well that I am.

  The corner of his mouth ticks up in amusement. “You wear men’s clothing and go hunting in the forest alone,” he says softly. “Let us not pretend you care at all if you appear proper to anyone.”

  I hesitate, my eyes darting from side to side looking around for an escape.

  “Get in, Miss Valmont, or I will make you,” he says with no emotion.

  I lift my chin ready to defy him, to force his hand. He takes a step forward.

  Turning back around, I get in and sit, pressing myself up against the far side. The interior is covered in black material with a damask pattern and gold flourishes and accents in a simple but elegant style. The seat is cushioned, and possibly the most comfortable thing my body has ever come into contact with.

  For a second, I mourn the fact that I have to experience something so grand like this—knowing I’ll never get the chance to tell Kitty about it… that I’m going to my death.

  He gets in and sits directly across from me, closing the door with a click, and the air within becomes stifling.

  “You’ve made a wise decision.”

  I scoff at him before I can stop myself. From his earlier anger, I expect a volatile reaction. Instead he only leans back, relaxing, as the carriage jerks forward.

  His stare is heavy, making the silence between us grow thick, I can hardly bare it. I look out the window and watch the scenery drift by. These familiar trees and houses will soon give way to the unfamiliar.

  “So am I to always call you Mr. Devereaux, or shall I call you Master?”

  “Why would you assume you will live long enough to call me anything at all?”

  And those few words are enough to take the air from my lungs and the strength out of my defiance—my lack of belongings only serve to emphasize his point.

  He removes his jacket and folds it neatly before setting it aside. Somehow, in just his shirt, waistcoat, and immaculately knotted cravat, he manages to look relaxed and severe at the same time.

  I don’t move, not even to look at him. I only wait. Wait for him to lunge at me and take the only thing monsters like that could want; my blood and my life.

  Seconds tick by, into minutes, then hours. Neither of us speak until it becomes too much for me.

  “You’re going to kill me.” It’s not even a question.

  “Do you want me to kill you?”

  My heart stutters at that. The way he speaks is more casual than he has a right to be when speaking of such things.

  My mouth goes dry. “Of course not.”

  His attention finally relents. I wait for several minutes before reaching for my bag and placing it in my lap. It’s another long moment before I start searching, attempting nonchalance.

  “If you are looking for a weapon in there, don’t bother. I could snap your neck before you made to move an inch toward me.”

  My hand stills.

  He heaves a heavy sigh. “Demon shit,” he mutters under his breath.

  With lightning fast reflexes, he snatches up my bag with my meager belongings and sticks his hand inside, pulling out my knife. He turns it over in his hand a few times then lowers the carriage window and tosses it out.

  “You can’t possibly mean to harm me with such a poorly made weapon.” Then he says almost to himself, “You are nothing but a blight on the world. It’s as if you were raised by the most bothersome of demons.”

  “And you’re a plague on the world, slowly killing it.”

  “Miss Valmont—” he starts then cuts himself off. Then, “Miss Valmont. How old are you, exactly? You can’t be much more than a child.”

  His words are like a spark to the tinder of my temper. I know it doesn’t matter what I say or do, he will kill me, and I don’t doubt that it will be sooner rather than later. I don’t see the point in pretending for him.

  “Hardly. I’m twenty-one this past winter. And I do not think a child would try to kill a vampire.”

  “You are right.” He eyes me again then says, “You’re not a child. Though, usually someone of your age would have been married off by a few years. What defect curses you?”

  “Defect?” I ask, the word sounding weak even to my ears. I’m too stunned to process his question.

  “Yes, what is wrong with you that you were still living at home like a child?”

  “I don’t have a defect,” I snap. My hands ball into fists.

  “Then why were you, a grown woman, still living at home?” he asks again, slowly as if I’m a complete idiot and he’s worried the words he’s using are too big for me to comprehend.

  My situation is highly unusual. I know it is. I also know that he is only trying to be hurtful, but I bristle at his words anyway even as my heart squeezes painfully in my chest.

  Xander and I had always talked about getting married, he just needed to wait for his brothers to marry first so he could choose someone on his own, rather than someone his parents picked for him.

  Xander… I’ll never see him again and we were to meet tonight. Now I don’t even know if he’ll ever find out what happened to me.

  I bite down hard on my bottom lip as disappointment settles like a rock in my gut.

  But I can’t tell the vampire that, it would only lead to his continued mocking, so I settle for another part of the truth instead. “I stayed for Kathrine, she’s always been sickly. Someone had to take care of her after Mother was killed.”

  He regards me for a long moment and I’m thankful when he only shrugs and does not bring up the point that it should have been our father taking care of her. It was thanks to him and his endless gambling debts that I am now the ward—or rather, the future meal—of a vampire.

  That is the last we say to each other. I don’t know where he goes, but my gloomy thoughts spiral down into further darkness.

  I might as well be invisible for all the attention he pays to me, and I am grateful for it. The hours pass slowly. My backside hurts and I grow restless, shifting uncomfortably from sitting in the same spot for hours at a time.

  The carriage comes to a sudden stop. I jolt upright and peer out the window. We are still surrounded by trees, and the soft sound of rushing of water filters in through the carriage.

  Eyeing the vampire across from me, I wonder if this is when I become a meal and have my body tossed carelessly to the side of the road.

  Mr. Devereaux looks annoyed but doesn’t make a move toward me.

  I slide across my seat to glance out the window. We stopped just before a low bridge. A family is crossing. The mother hurries to guide her children off and away. Two smaller ones lag behind.

  One slips and falls to his hands and knees, rolling around in front of his sister and tripping her.

  My heart plummets as I watch the child try to regain her balance only to fall over the edge.

  I don’t think, my body reacts on its own. I shove open the door and leap out of the carriage into a run, sliding down the side of the riverbank and wade into the water.

  Unholy demon shit, it’s freezing!

  It’s not particularly deep, but the current is moving too fast for someone so small. I dive in, swimming as hard as I can toward the girl, bobbing up and down. Her head going under for longer and longer each time.

  Then she sinks beneath the surface and doesn’t come back up.

  I dip underwater and spot her, caught by an old fallen tree. I reach her
in seconds and wrap my arm around her waist and pull her above water.

  She coughs and sputters, wildly flailing in my arms.

  “I have you,” I say, dragging us both to shore.

  Her mother is running toward us, the rest of her kids following in her wake.

  “Oh, Hanna!” she cries, scooping the girl up. “Thank you, young man.”

  Young… man? I open my mouth to correct her, but she’s already hurrying away.

  Chapter Seven

  Alaric

  I could have ended her life at any time in the last few hours, yet, I hadn’t. Doing so didn’t feel like a just enough punishment. She deserves worse than to go quietly and in the comfort of this carriage.

  Sitting in a confined space with a murderess is a whole new hell. I can feel my fangs start to descend at the thought of draining her tonight.

  Perhaps tying her to the back of the carriage and making her walk behind, for any and all to see her in her shame would be an improvement.

  I run a hand along my jaw. No, that would make her crime too obvious, drawing her into the hands of the court and out of mine. I would rather rot in the Otherworld than allow anyone to take this vengeance from me.

  Her deep brown eyes bore into me, narrowing as the cry of a human spawn vaguely registers.

  Miss Valmont swings the door open and leaps out, landing in a full run. For a moment I can only stare at the space where she sat. She cannot be so foolish as to believe she can run from me.

  The shouts from mortals pull me out of my stupor. I exit the carriage and walk calmly to the bridge. I'm not sure what to make of Miss Valmont as I watch her wade into the water, calling out to the child being swept away in its current.

  I should jump into the water and drag her back, but I will not allow her to pull me into this charade of hers.

  She is little more than a wild animal, feral and untamed, and still she does this. Her actions don’t make sense. Miss Valmont is devious, that is all I know.