by ZL Morris
The droning noise I heard inside gets louder, and it disrupts my thoughts. Before I’m given the chance to ask about the noise and the tent contraption, Cassius directs me to a car with blacked-out windows parked at the bottom of the steps.
A man in an impeccable suit similar to Cassius’s exits the driver’s side of the car and walks around the back before opening the door for Cassius and me. I offer him a thank you before I step in, and the small smile he gives me in return displays his fangs.
Is everyone who works for the guys a vampire? I’ve yet to encounter another human. I’m not sure if I should be grateful there are no other human women around or if I should be worried I’m the only…
Holy shit! Where did that thought come from? I shouldn’t be concerning myself with the idea of other women being around them. The horrible unsettling in my tummy makes me wonder why I don’t like the thought. It’s not like they’re interested in me. They’re only being friendly towards me because they did a good deed by saving me…
Do vampires even do good deeds?
I glance around the car to try to distract myself, but my eyes lock on Cassius’s. Again, a frown mars his face. Something flickers in his eyes, indicating he’s about to speak. My body tenses, and I turn to look out the window, hoping to put off his questions. No such luck though.
“You know… I’m not able to read your thoughts like Zadimus and his brothers, but I am able to read your feelings. I’m not in the position to disclose the topic of the conversation I had with them back in the house. It wouldn’t be right for me to take that right away from them, but I want you to know, me or my wife, Lilith, we’re here if you ever need to talk.” He straightens his tie, then places his hand back in his lap. “We’re not born vampires. As you know, we were human once. Even though it was a long while ago, we do remember our human emotions. You’re not alone. We were confused at the beginning also.”
My body relaxes, and I recognise that Cassius is likely the father figure of the house. He has a softer side and a gentle voice. A voice that could soothe the soul. I’m not sure if his voice was like that while still human, but it has the effect of a father soothing his child.
“I’m confused about how I’m feeling. I… I’m not good with people. I’ve always tried to keep to myself, even before I was kidnapped by the w-wolves. I’m not sure if my feelings are gratitude to the guys because they rescued me, or if there’s some sort of…” I gulp and whisper, “Magic at play.”
A cough from the front brings my attention towards the driver. I glare at him but quickly remember he’s a vampire, and I immediately turn my attention to the window before I cause trouble for myself. A cold hand touches mine. I jump and spin towards Cassius.
His hand releases mine, and he offers a small smile. “We don’t have that sort of power over you, no matter how many books say we do. I think what you and the brothers have would be magical if you allowed it.”
My eyebrows dip in confusion. I open my mouth to ask him what he means, but the car slows to a stop. Checking out the window, we’ve pulled up outside an expensive shop called Casablanca’s Boutique. Cassius claps once, pulling my gawking away from the shop, and he happily announces we’re here.
The driver gets out and opens the door for us. Once outside, Cassius walks over to the store, opens the door, and gestures for me to enter before him.
Too distracted by everything in front of me, I barely pay attention to the sound of a bell chime as Cassius shuts the door. He stands sentry next to me but doesn’t say anything to disrupt my perusal. Rich coloured clothes in various fabrics and styles decorate every space. The lady behind the counter catches my attention. I’m not sure what gives it away, but I can tell she’s a vampire. She’s not dressed in anything different than what regular humans wear, so I’m unsure what gives away her true identity.
She offers me a smile as she moves around the counter, and the fangs confirm my suspicion. Her heels click-clack against the wooden floor. She wears a black pencil skirt that covers her long legs to the knee and a white blouse tucked in at the waist. Her smoky eyes and blood-red lips look as though they were applied by a professional. Her auburn hair is pinned tightly to her head in a bun. I feel like a frumpy old housewife just from being in her presence.
Unconsciously, I step closer to Cassius, which is ridiculous considering he’s a vampire also. Although, judging by the way her face is open and friendly, I don’t think she has ill-intentions towards me.
She stops in front of me and excitedly holds her hand out towards me. “Welcome to Casablanca’s. My name is Cindy, and you must be Willow.” Her eyes travel over my body, appraising what she has to work with. “Well, aren’t you stirring up a lot of fun at the house? You’re just so… pretty.”
Nervously, I wipe my hands on my trousers before I shake her hand. I doubt she’d appreciate shaking hands with someone who has sweaty palms. “Hi, I’m… I don’t…”
She smiles devilishly at Cassius and laughs. “Isn’t she a sweetheart? No wonder the Sires like to have her around.” She turns her attention back to me and tilts her head. Her eyes run over my body again, and I fight the urge to cross my arms and hide. “You’re not the size of our usual customers, but I definitely have something that will work.”
Hurt by her words, I try to pull my hand out of hers. She doesn’t allow me to escape though, and instead, she turns on her heel. They click-clack across the floor while she drags me along. In desperation, I throw a look over my shoulder to Cassius for help, but he offers me a reassuring smile while he gets situated in one of the leather visitor chairs.
Cindy leads me through some curtains to the changing rooms and shuffles me into one before demanding I strip. I stare at her in horror, but she doesn’t give me any other option. I huff before going in and drawing the heavy, gold curtain closed.
Full-length mirrors cover the remaining three walls, and my nose wrinkles when I take in my appearance. How the hell did someone like me end up in such an expensive shop, and how will I be able to comfortably fit into the clothes they sell?
I begrudgingly strip out of my clothes, then I stare at my body in the mirrors. I lost a lot of weight while I was held by the wolves, but it’s done nothing to hide the fact I once carried a full figure. From the front, my once heavy breasts and thicker-than-average thighs would’ve stood out the most. Now though, they’re smaller and thinner than I’ve ever seen them, and it leaves a horrible taste in my mouth. Growing up, I was told I inherited child-bearing hips from my mother’s side of the family, but looking in the mirrors beside me, my new body doesn’t remind me of anything of my life before I was kidnapped. It’s almost laughable that Cindy, the perfect size-ten vampire, wants to find me, a sickly looking size-ten, clothes that fit and are sold in a shop that looks as though it caters to the modelling industry with bodies of pure perfection.
I’ve never really been bothered about my body. I was always bigger than the average girl, but not really being around people allowed me to be who I was without anyone judging me. But standing here in my underwear, with a skinnier body on display, I feel self-conscious.
A shriek bursts from me when the curtain abruptly slides open, and I glare at Cindy in horror. My hands move over my body, not knowing which part of my body to cover most.
She stands there with an arm full of material, and I’m unable to make out what any of it is. She acts as if I’m not almost naked, plonks the heavy clothes in the chair inside the huge cubical, and hums quietly while she sorts through the enormous pile.
With her back still towards me, she holds a piece of purple material over her shoulder and tells me to try it on. I take the item, and a quick inspection reveals a strap top. I throw it on quickly to try to give myself some modesty. She then throws something else over her shoulder. I take it and realise it’s a dark blue pair of jeans. I hesitate for a second, unsure if I’ll be able to fit in them, but then remember I’m no longer squeezing my size eighteen ass into designer clothes. I’m half annoyed, b
ut impressed when I pull them up and can easily button them without struggling like I once would.
Cindy turns towards me and looks me over closely. She smiles, then gives a nod before turning back to her pile. “We’ll put the outfit into the keep pile. Quickly strip out of those because I have a whole new wardrobe for you to try on before we can get you out of here. You have a busy day ahead of you, and your men will become grumpy if you’re gone for too long.”
I choke on air. “My what!”
She stares at me with an eyebrow raised, and my face flames from sounding like a crazy lady. “Oh hush, never mind about that. Now, chop chop! More clothes to try on, and there’s never enough hours.” She claps at me then throws more clothes in my direction.
I’m not sure how much time passes before I’m able to escape from what I now call the cubicle of doom. Exhaustion sets in from continuously dressing and undressing, and for the past hour, my stomach rumbles from the lack of food. The mountain of clothes thrown into the keep pile suggests we’ve been in here far longer than I’d like. Cindy gathers up the clothes a vampire gave me after my bath and throws them outside the cubicle.
I must look confused because she explains. “Pick something from the pile. You won’t be needing those clothes anymore.”
Once I’ve picked my outfit of choice, she loads her arms with the rest and shouts over her shoulder, “No male vampires want what’s theirs to wear the clothes of another vampire.”
Lost for words, I don’t respond. I quickly dress in the jeans I first tried on and a purple top. Even though Cindy appears delicate, she’s not. She has the strength of a… well, vampire. Her words play over in my head, and I’ve no clue what to make of them.
She said vampires—meaning more than one, right? So, does she mean two or all three of them? I can’t imagine they’d be interested in me. Are they?
In the short time I’ve been around the guys, they haven’t made any suggestions or remarks that they want something specific from me. Am I missing the obvious? I mean, they executed two vampires for trying to attack me, and they fixed my hand up when I cut it.
Would other vampires do the same, or is there something more behind it?
My head aches from all the unanswered questions buzzing around my brain. I decide to shelve whatever might be going on and concentrate on the now. Cindy holds the clothes to ring up. I need to see the total, so I know what I need to pay back. Although, I’m not sure how I’m going to pay it all back. With no job to go back to, no savings, and no family to rely on, I’m screwed when it comes to repaying the debt to them. They’ve done enough for me already, without adding a huge amount of money to the ever-growing list.
I shove my feet into new shoes that were left behind for me to wear. I zip up the ankle boots and assess myself in the mirror. The outfit is nice, although I’m a little unsure about it. The vest top isn’t low cut, but it does slightly cling to my breasts before dropping over my stomach. It manages to show off my breasts but still appear modest, and it does so without showing the malnourished body I know hides underneath. The jeans don’t cling to my thighs too much, but they do make my stumpy legs appear longer, and I appreciate that.
Satisfied, I rush to the counter in hopes of catching sight of the final amount, but disappointment rolls through me when I spot all the bags on the counter waiting for me.
Cassius chuckles. “I had a feeling you’d try to peek at the amount, so I told Cindy to go ahead and ring them up before you came out. No point scowling, Willow. They won’t allow you to pay for the clothes, no matter how much you think you should.” He picks up several bags and turns to exit the shop, mumbling something that sounds like, “To be a fly on the wall for that conversation.”
Judging by Cindy’s cackle, I guess I heard him right. Resigned, I shake my head. With a quick goodbye to Cindy, I follow Cassius out to the car. He and the driver load the boot up with the bags.
We ride in the car for a short distance before stopping, and the driver gets out and opens my door. We’ve pulled up to a small restaurant, and my stomach rumbles loudly with the knowledge food isn’t too far away. Both Cassius and the driver laugh at the sound before Cassius leads me to the door. He opens it and allows me to enter first. My new shoes click on the polished wood floors as the maître d’ leads us to our private booth. Warm lighting and colours give off a cosy ambiance without being overly romantic.
The young hostess seats us quickly before leaving us to get comfortable without anyone hovering. When the server arrives, Cassius orders water for both of us, and when I don’t have a clear answer on what I’d like to eat, Cassius recommends a chicken dish. Not wanting to keep the lady waiting, I go with his suggestion. The waitress looks at Cassius with a frown when he tells her he doesn’t want food and is quite capable of pouring our own water, but she leaves a moment later without any fuss.
Cassius pours us both a glass of water before he settles back into the cushion of the booth. He doesn’t say anything, and the silence allows me a few moments to really take in the atmosphere. The restaurant isn’t crowded, but people in formal suits occupy a table in the centre of the room, adjacent to us. I can only assume it’s a business lunch. Several of them have tablets out on the table, and they nod along with whatever the person at the head of the table says.
A few tables over in the other direction, an older couple enjoys their lunch. A small dog peeks its head out of a huge handbag which is hidden under their table, and I stifle a laugh when the lady drops small bites of bread inside her bag for the dog to eat when she thinks the staff isn’t looking.
After only a few minutes, the waitress delivers my food and leaves us alone to enjoy my meal in peace. I take a bite, and the flavours of rosemary and thyme burst inside my mouth. I’ve never tasted chicken like this. My eyes close as I partake in a few more bites before I wipe my mouth on the cloth napkin.
Cassius continues to relax in the booth seat across from me. After I take a small sip of water, I can’t help but wonder how he knew about the menu here. “How did you know it would be a good choice?”
He lips dip briefly. It’s gone before I can comment, and I wonder if I imagined it. This throat clears. “This was my wife’s favourite restaurant. I proposed to her here, she announced she was pregnant here, and what you’re eating is her favourite meal. It’s nice to see the place still open and serving the same food, even after all these years.”
A lump forms in my throat. How must it feel to be human one day and a vampire the next? It must’ve been horrendous, adjusting to doing things completely differently. One minute you’re eating food, and the next… you’re drinking blood.
“W-w-when were you changed?” I quietly ask, not wanting others to overhear.
“Fifty years ago. I was in my late thirties, and Lilith was twenty-six.” His hands ball into fists for a moment, and I stay quiet, not wanting to upset or anger him further. His hands slowly relax, and after a moment, he continues. “She was six months pregnant with our son at the time. Luckily, shortly after she changed, the DeLuca brothers found us. They weren’t sure if the baby would make it.” His smile turns content, and happiness dances in his eyes. “We have a son. You met him in the kitchen—Tobias.”
My mouth opens and closes in shock. Fifty years ago? He’s at least in his late eighties now, and looking at him, I wouldn’t have put him a day over forty. If he’s that old and the guys are the ones who found and helped them… how old does that make them?
Our conversation ends, and I try to make sense of his words. Fifty years ago, he changed into a vampire, but the guys don’t look any older than their late twenties. My head pounds and might explode from the overload of information, and I struggle to take stock of everything I’ve learnt over the past day. I don’t think any amount of time will be sufficient to make my mind soak up the information. There’s just too much to take in.
After another mouthful, I pause when Cassius gives me a sad smile. “Do I have food on my face?”
“Oh,
no. I was rethinking the idea of bringing you here. Not because I don’t want to share the experience with you, but the food is rich, and I should’ve considered the fact your body hasn’t had the chance to become accustomed to normal-sized portions yet.”
Knowing he’s right, guilt settles in at wasting good food. “Do they allow you to box your food up here? I could take the rest… home with me so it won’t go to waste.” I stumble over the word home, but I don’t really know what else to call it… Vampire lair of doom.
Not privy to my thoughts, Cassius responds, “It shouldn’t be a problem.”
I barely manage to stuff down another few mouthfuls before I feel uncomfortably full. I stare down at my plate in mourning at wanting to finish the food off but not physically capable of doing so. Thankfully, Cassius doesn’t take pity on me and quietly asks the waitress to box the food up to go. Leaning back, I try to take some of the pressure off my stomach in hopes to alleviate the impending stomach ache. I’ll need to try to remember to thank Cindy for the jeans. They’re constructed from some type of material with a slight give which doesn’t add pressure to my stomach.
Without thinking, I blurt, “Who changed you?”
“Ah, that would be the DeLuca triplet’s uncle, Dragos. Dragos is an original and less than pleasant vampire. The triplets, thankfully, have the morals of their father and not their father’s brother. Dragos likes to change humans as a form of entertainment. The triplets are the ones who pick up the pieces when a newly changed vampire is left to fend for himself or herself which is highly dangerous considering when they change all they can think about is feeding.”
“So, they save the ones their uncle changes?”
“Yes. Recently the number of humans changing has become less, but we do still take them in when we learn of them.”
“So, they’re always saving people?” The idea of them saving people as a daily occurrence without a second thought leaves a sour taste in my mouth. Do they see me like everyone else who needs rescuing and felt it was their duty to save me?
