Of the Blood

by Cameo Renae

  Her warm blood gushed down my throat, giving me a different kind of high. A high that took over my mind. A high I never wanted to come down from.

  I could feel the intensity of her fresh blood coursing through my body, restoring me from the inside out.

  “Stop!” I could barely hear Sabine’s muffled cries. “Stop, Calla! You’re killing her!”

  I was killing her.

  The words struck me like a hammer. I fought the thirst, fought my carnal urges to feed until this woman was drained and dead. But they were so powerful.

  No!

  I didn’t want to be a monster. I refused to become one.

  Pulling on every ounce of strength and sanity I had left, I shoved the woman’s arm from my mouth and screamed. She collapsed to the floor, her body limp. I sat, panting, the blood still coursing through my veins. I closed my eyes and focused, hearing Sabine calling to the older woman.

  “Ms. Alcott,” she cried.

  After the high settled, I opened my eyes to see Sabine’s body folded over the woman, shaking her, trying to wake her.

  “Sabine,” I said softly, the world fading back to neutral colors.

  “What have you done?” she wailed, her brow furrowed, her eyes brimmed with tears. “You almost killed her!”

  The expression on her face was one that would permanently be fixed into my memory. A look I would never forget. A mix of fear and disgust.

  I peered down at my white bedgown, and the entire front was stained red. My hands, my legs, the bedding were all sodden with blood.

  How could I allow such a thing to happen? I vowed to resist the urge to feed off a mortal being. But I failed. I was too weak to resist the thirst and allowed myself to become the thing I detested most.

  Ms. Alcott moaned, but her eyes remained closed. She was alive. Thank the gods.

  “I’m sorry,” I bawled. “I’m so sorry.” I was overcome with remorse and sadness. My chest heaved as I launched off the bed and ran into the washroom, slamming the door shut behind me. I pushed my back against the door, slid to the floor, and wept until there were no tears left. Until everyone had gone.

  When I had nothing left inside, I picked myself up and moved to the washbasin. Mounted on the wall was a mirror. I stepped back, gazing at the grizzly sight. I didn’t recognize the person staring back at me.

  The young woman was emaciated and sickly pale, her eyes dimmed and sunken in. Her mouth was glazed in crimson and drips of it trickled down her chin and neck, staining the garment at her front. This wasn’t the same girl I’d known all along. No, it wasn’t me in the mirror’s reflection. It was a monster. A dreadful, vile beast . . . no better than the Prince of Morbeth.

  Maybe I did belong with him. Maybe we deserved each other.

  I yanked the bloodstained gown off, then went to the tub and turned on the hot water. Once full, I submerged myself and scoured my face, neck, and chest so hard it was practically raw. Until all traces of blood were gone.

  I was bare and didn’t want to see or deal with anyone. My mind couldn’t erase the look on Sabine’s face. A look which spoke a thousand words.

  Would she ever forgive me? I wasn’t sure if I could forgive myself.

  When I finally exited the tub, I listened for movement outside, but the place was silent.

  Cracking the door open, I peeked outside. The area was empty, so I wrapped a towel around my body and stepped out.

  The fire still crackled in the fireplace, and everything had been cleaned. On top of the new bedsheets was a clean bedgown which I’d slid on before I tumbled into bed, dragging the blankets over me.

  The blood, even though I had fed a while ago, was still working. I could feel it tingling through my limbs. The aches had subsided, and I was feeling strong. But for what? This lovely room was still a cell, and I wasn’t going anywhere.

  I wanted to sleep and forget what happened. Maybe it was all a dream. Perhaps I’d wake up in my cozy cottage in Sartha and chalk this up to a terrible nightmare. But reality slapped me in the head.

  The buzz was wearing off, and as I stared into the fireplace, watching the flames dance and whirl, my eyes became heavy. I let sleep wrap its arms around me in a strong embrace.

  Chapter Thirteen

  I awoke to voices outside my door; whispers that sounded like they were right next to me.

  “Please don’t make me go in,” a sweet female voice pleaded. “She almost killed Ms. Alcott. What if she kills me?”

  “Listen, it was a mistake, and I’m positive she’s terribly sorry for what happened.” The response came from Sabine.

  As the doorknob twisted, I shut my eyes, hoping they’d assume I was asleep.

  The door opened and shut. Then there was a shuffle of feet against the floor.

  “Calla,” Sabine whispered, lightly tapping my shoulder. “Calla, it’s time to wake up.”

  I gradually opened my eyes to see Sabine standing next to me with her long, wavy hair and dark-almond eyes. “Why?” I moaned. “It’s not like I’m going anywhere.”

  She chuckled quietly. “You’ve slept the entire day away. Come on. We’ve come to get you up and ready for the Shadow Festival.”

  “What?” I whined. “What’s a Shadow Festival?”

  Sabine turned back to me with a glint in her eyes. “It’s a great celebration held across Morbeth, marking the end of the harvest season and the beginning of winter. The witches celebrate this day as their new year and hold their own private festivities. Tonight, the veil between the living and the dead is removed, and we can connect with those who’ve crossed over into the next realm.”

  “You’re kidding, right?” I yawned and stretched my arms into the air.

  She stopped what she was doing and shifted to me with a crumpled brow. “Why would I be kidding?”

  I shrugged as Sabine nodded to the girl who looked no older than thirteen. She had brilliant green eyes and long blonde hair that was drawn back into a single braid. Her hands twisted around themselves like she was nervous. She had cause to be, and the thought made my chest ache.

  The girl nodded back at Sabine and proceeded into the washroom to fill the tub.

  Sabine moved toward the changing room and raised an exquisite silk gown, hanging it on a hook. The garment looked like it was created for a princess. Silvery gems sparkled over the bodice, while flowy silver fabric cascaded to the floor. It was the first gown I’d seen in this hue of silver before and knew Brynna would die if she saw it.

  “Have you overheard anything about my friend or my father?” I inquired.

  Sabine shook her head. “Nothing about your father, but your friend is in another suite in the east wing . . . much like this one. She's well taken care of. At least until . . .” She hesitated, and my chest compressed.

  “Until what?”

  Her tone softened. “Until you make your decision.”

  Despite the decision, relief washed over me knowing Brynna was safe and being taken care of. I groaned. “I don’t want to attend this stupid festival. Besides, what is Roehl going to do? Lead me around on a leash all night?” I wouldn’t put it past him. He referred to me as his “pet” after all.

  “I’m sorry, Calla. We’re merely following orders.” A grin lurked on her lips. “And on a relatively brighter side, with Roehl’s capabilities, you won’t need a leash.”

  “Hey, who’s side are you on?” I grumbled.

  She thumbed toward the door. We all knew the guards—vampires with acute hearing—were probably listening. “I’m a fence-sitter.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Someone who remains indifferent.” She winked at me, then went about her duties.

  “I’m so sick of Roehl.” I flipped over and yanked the blanket over my head. “Tell him he battered me too severely and it hurts to walk.”

  Sabine sighed. “He won’t believe you and will show up himself to make sure.” I felt the side of my bed sink down. “If you gain his confidence, life here can be better for you.”


  “He has ulterior motives,” I replied under the blanket. “He marked me for a reason.”

  “With the prince, things are either black or white. He is swift at doling out rewards or punishments. He will offer a choice, and you either accept it or refuse. Once an individual has made their decision, there is no turning back. They remain with the aftereffects . . . good or bad. That’s how Prince Roehl runs things here.”

  I groaned, shoving the blanket off and flipping to look at her. “How is Ms. Alcott?”

  Her chest expanded and fell. “She’s seen better days, but she’ll recover. If you had stayed latched for any longer, she would have died.”

  I resisted the tears threatening to occupy my eyes. My chest throbbed as I reflected to that dreadful moment when I lost control. “Please tell her I’m sorry. I couldn’t help myself. The thirst . . . it was too powerful, and—”

  “I know,” she said. “We all know the prince is to blame. He left you down in that cell and starved you, trying to crack your will. On top of that, you’re a newborn.” Her warm, calloused hand covered mine. “But you did fight the thirst, and you won. You broke free. And because of it, Ms. Alcott is alive.”

  I swallowed hard, fighting the increasing ache inside. “That still doesn’t make me feel any better.”

  “If it’s of any comfort, I’ve never experienced a newborn control their thirst like you did. I know it takes control over everything. Newborns lose themselves and all sensibility until—” A tear crept down her cheek. “It’s how my sister died. A newborn latched onto her and drained her to death.”

  I could feel her despair. “Sabine.” I couldn’t find the right words to comfort her because there were none. “You must despise us.”

  Her russet eyes met mine. “No,” she exhaled, wiping a tear trailing down her cheek. “Not all vampires are evil. There are those who are good, surviving without torture and bloodshed.” She peered deep into my eyes. “Those like Trystan, the Prince of Carpathia.”

  My heart constricted at the utterance of his name.

  She halted, dragging my sheets all the way off. “I overheard some of the guards talking before I arrived.” She leaned in closer, her lips a breath from my ear. “They were saying Prince Trystan will be attending the festival tonight.”

  “What?” I shot up so quick I was dizzy. “Are you positive?”

  When she nodded, I found it difficult to breathe, and even harder to think straight. Could it be? Could Trystan really be coming?

  Sabine pressed her finger to her lips. “Word is, he’s sought counsel with Prince Roehl to barter for your freedom.”

  A surge of adrenaline shot through me, kindling hope deep inside. He was coming for me. Trystan was coming into Morbeth . . . for me!

  If I had to play by Roehl’s rules and put on a show for a while longer, I would do it. I just had to make sure Brynna was safe and prayed to the gods that my father was tricky enough to stay hidden and not get caught. He had friends and contacts throughout Sartha, and even in Aquaris, that could help him stay hidden. Hopefully, he could use those connections.

  After my bath, while wrapped in a towel, I sat on a chair in front of a desk laden with brushes, pins, and a number of colorful powdery things. Sabine stood behind me, and the green-eyed girl took a seat next to me. Her eyes were large, and I could hear her accelerated heartbeat.

  “What kinds of things go on at this festival?” I asked in my most non-scary voice, hoping to ease her fear.

  She gulped hard. “You will be in the grand ballroom, dining and dancing with the most affluent and powerful in Morbeth’s kingdom. Everyone will be dressed in elegant gowns and fancy suits and they are required to wear a mask,” the girl explained, without making eye contact.

  “What’s your name?” I asked.

  “Spring.” Her eyes moved to mine, then quickly looked elsewhere.

  “It’s nice to meet you, Spring.” I held out my hand to her. “I’m Calla, and you don’t have to be afraid of me.”

  She hesitated, her eyes flashing to Sabine, who gave her an acknowledging nod. She slowly stretched her hand and shook mine. It was so warm, but she was trembling.

  “There, see? We’re friends now. And I don’t hurt my friends,” I said tenderly. “What happened to Ms. Alcott was a mistake. One I will never make again.”

  She nodded, but her eyes still carried a hint of fear. I hated that. Hated I was the cause of it.

  “Are you in charge of doing my hair for the festival, Spring?”

  She shook her head. “Sabine will be doing your hair. I will be making up your face.”

  “Hmm. So, I suppose I need to pucker my lips like this?” I sucked in my cheeks and crossed my eyes.

  Spring laughed, covering her mouth. “No. Not yet.”

  “My best friend, Brynna, made me up a few times, so I know how this works,” I closed my eyes and relaxed. “I’ll sit here patiently and let you both work your magic.”

  Spring giggled and when I opened an eye, I noticed some of her fear melt away.

  Sabine took a brush to my wild and tangled mane. “Alright, Spring. Let’s make Calla look like a princess.”

  The two of them worked while I sat, eyes closed, recalling the night of my eighteenth birthday celebration. The night Brynna did my makeup, and the night I met Trystan.

  I wondered what would have happened if he hadn’t come. I would have gone back to my cabin, and the enemy would have captured me. I would probably be dead or sealed up in the cell and left to die as a mortal. But because of Trystan’s involvement—his attempt to claim me—it was somehow enough for Roehl to take notice and keep me alive. For now.

  I finally understood how much Trystan was risking. Not only his life, but his family and his kingdom as well.

  From the start, he never forced me. Everything that transpired that night was because I allowed it . . . except for the bite. But now I realized why he did it. To spare me and my family. But because of Roehl, my mother was dead, and my father was still running somewhere in the Whisper Woods.

  “You’re done,” Spring’s gentle voice chimed.

  When I opened my eyes, they were both beaming at me with expressions of admiration. Sabine’s hands were clasped over her heart, and Spring wore a smile as radiant as the sun.

  “Can I see?” I attempted to stand with the towel still wrapped around me.

  “Not yet.” Sabine held my shoulders in place.

  Spring took the silver gown from the hook and brought it over to me. Then, as a team, they proceeded to clothe me. First, they set a corset around my midsection and cinched it so tight I could barely breathe.

  The gown was a perfect fit, making my cleavage look halfway decent. The jeweled waist hugged me tightly before the silvery silk fabric cascaded like a waterfall down to the floor. I slid my feet into a pair of sparkling silver heels to finish the look.

  “You look like a princess.” The fear in Spring’s eyes had been replaced with a look of awe.

  “Go ahead,” Sabine said smoothly, reaching for my hand and leading me over to the mirror.

  I gasped, taken aback by the girl in the mirror. She looked like royalty. Not the same gaunt and pale girl, stained in blood, I saw in the washroom mirror the night before. There was no trace of the monster that remained under my skin. Right now, I was beautiful.

  My auburn hair was curled and pinned up with glittery jewels—a few strands were curled and left down to frame each side of my face. The arrangement of the gems somehow made it look as if I were wearing a silver diadem.

  The makeup made my face look flawless, not like the corpse girl I looked like before. My lashes appeared twice as long, curled upward, making my golden eyes stand out. My eyelids were dusted with silver that shimmered like the gems on my bodice, and my lips looked full, stained a rich red. Even though I’d lost a significant amount of weight, I couldn’t tell. They worked some magic.

  Spring picked up a vial of pink liquid. “May I?” she asked, aiming the bottle
at my collar.

  “What is it?”

  “Perfume. It smells like flowers. I like it.” The beam on her face caused me to smile.

  “Spray away,” I said, closing my eyes.

  Spring sprayed me all over. “Done,” she said while setting the bottle back on the desk. The scent was wonderful. A variety of floral bouquets, delicate and sweet.

  “What do you think?” Sabine asked, stepping behind me.

  “I—I love it all.” I was on the verge of tears, not knowing why I felt so emotional. “I don’t even recognize myself.”

  “That’s the whole point of the festival,” Spring admitted cheerfully.

  In her right hand was a fancy silver mask with black satin ties affixed to it. She passed the mask to Sabine, who carefully put it on my face, then tied it to the back of my head, pinning the ties to my hair to remain in place.

  It was a delicate filigree, molded perfectly around my nose and eyes, emphasizing the golden hue in them even further. The bottom half of my face was left untouched.

  I looked in the mirror at Sabine. “Aren’t you two going to dress up?”

  “Yes, but we won’t be attending the festivities in the castle.”

  “What? Why?” I felt my stress level rise. “Where will you be?”

  “Mortals within the kingdom are not invited. They, along with citizens outside the kingdom, hold festivities elsewhere, beyond the castle boundaries. The witches have their own private rituals, so we’ll attend the mortal festivals first. Bonfires, dancing, food, wine, and maybe a cute boy or two.” Sabine accentuated wine and boy with a widened smile.

  “Is there a boy in your life?” I questioned.

  She winked. “That, Calla, is a secret.”

  She grabbed my hand and twirled me around in front of the mirror. The bottom of the dress flared out, and when I stopped, it curled around my ankles. She beamed and bowed at the waist. “You look radiant, Princess Calla.”

  I groaned. “I’m not a princess.”

  “Tonight, you definitely look the part,” Spring said, peeking over my shoulder.