Game of Vampires: A Reverse Harem Serial (Part Three)

by Rosette Bolter

  “You have.”

  “I’m not anyone.”

  They moved to the front of the shop and Moldark pulled the lock back. He opened the door for Theresa and they stepped out into the night.

  They were in the middle of a city district. Theresa looked across the buildings and saw most were black and empty. But up the road she saw one with red light spilling from cracks in the windows. Down the road she saw another occupied building, this one spilling blue light.

  Moldark stepped in front of her into the middle of the road.

  He extended his hand. “Care for a stroll, my Lady?”

  Theresa looked over her shoulder as she walked out into the road with him. And far away in the midst of the moonless sky she saw the body of a black castle taking shape.

  She looked back into Moldark’s eyes and took his hand again.

  But she realized for the first time she didn’t know if this was the hand of a friend.

  Or an enemy.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  The street was freezing. Cold and black and chilling. Yet when Theresa held the vampire’s hand, she didn’t feel that bad. His body, his skin wasn’t exactly a conduit for transferable heat – but there was something about his touch that changed her experience of the world. She hadn’t felt this with Harland or Lafayette. There was something about Moldark, especially now that she’d seen him in his kingdom. Something Theresa wanted to believe was real.

  They walked along the empty footpath together, not a soul in sight. Where were the townspeople, Theresa wanted to know? Where were the common folk? Where were the people like her? She saw the castle getting closer overhead and something poisonous stun her psyche. The truth was hidden from her as Moldark had said.

  But there was more than one side to what was true.

  They were nearing the building with red light around its windows. Judging by the outside of it, it seemed to take on a similar appearance to that of the harem, although it was smaller. Moldark turned to face her.

  “I need to go in,” he said. “Just for one minute.”

  “I’m not allowed in?”

  “You may come in if that is what you desire,” Moldark said. “But there are people inside – people whom you might not –”

  “I got it, I got it,” Theresa said. “Well, hurry up. Don’t leave me hanging.”

  He smiled and let go of her.

  Theresa took a step back, jolted by a thousand needles piercing her skin. A depression set inside her brain. Her fingers started to burn. She looked back frightfully to Moldark as he entered the establishment, his back to her.

  The door opened.

  And then it closed.

  “Sweet Lucifer,” Theresa cursed, rubbing her naked arms.

  The questions began to prod in her.

  What was she doing here? What was she trying to achieve?

  Did she actually think Moldark had her best interests at heart?

  This was another game. She knew it. She knew his wickedness.

  Theresa swallowed. She felt sick.

  She looked back down the road, in search of the armoury. She thought she could see it. She wasn’t sure.

  Should she run away now?

  Would she make it?

  She turned back to the sky and saw his black castle and her head throbbed in pain.

  Something was wrong here.

  Something was really wrong.

  Tee-hee-hee…

  Theresa looked up down the road, almost sure the child’s laughter had been in her mind. But there he was. A small boy, eight or nine years old. He was wearing nice clothes. Nicer clothes than she’d ever worn at that age.

  Behind him she saw the emergence of the boy’s parents. Both dressed in upper class clothing, their arms linked, chatting quietly to themselves. The boy was skipping along in front of them. Giggling.

  Hee-hee-tee…

  Theresa took in a deep breath of air.

  The boy had stopped in his tracks.

  He’d spotted her.

  Theresa forced a smile. “Hello.”

  The boy looked back at his parents. The parents looked from him to Theresa.

  They casually smiled and waved.

  Theresa waved back.

  The boy skipped along in front of them. He ran up so that he was a couple of feet away from Theresa, where he stopped again. He was staring at her, perplexed.

  “Hi there,” Theresa said softly. “What are you up to?”

  “We…” the boy began. “We were at the playhouse.”

  “Were you?”

  “Yes!”

  The parents were approaching. Happy and beautiful.

  And rich.

  The door to the establishment opened and Moldark stepped out.

  Theresa turned towards him.

  He first raised his eyebrows with a look of recognition. Then his face scrunched up. Theresa blinked. He was alarmed. He was –

  ALARMED

  Theresa looked down and started screaming, the boy’s mouth of fangs latched onto her left wrist, sucking wickedly.

  The parents were there before Moldark.

  But instead of restraining their son, they both pounced on Theresa, forcing her onto the road.

  One bite to her right shoulder. One to the left of her neck. And whatever the boy managed to drain out of her wrist. That’s all they got. That’s all they were going to get. Moldark tore across the decking, ripping the boy and his mother away with a thrashing of his arms, impaling the father through his chest with steel.

  Theresa rolled herself into the gutter as Moldark withdrew his sword from the father and then brandished it in the mother and boy’s direction.

  “SHE’S MINE,” Moldark roared at them.

  The vampire family screamed in terror, before picking themselves up and scampering away into the night. Moldark sheathed his sword and then picked Theresa up in both his arms.

  “Let me see.”

  She showed him her shoulder. Her neck.

  Her wrist.

  Moldark growled underneath his breath.

  The pain had vanished somewhat now that she was in his arms, but she could still feel the blood spilling out across her skin. The areas where flesh had been broken and tendons had been pulled. She felt slightly nauseous.

  “What happens now?” Theresa whispered.

  He put him hands over her eyes, closing them. “Sleep.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  When Theresa came to she was lying in the middle of a bed big enough to fit five or six people. She tried to sit up but it was though she was paralyzed, unable to move. The weight of the bed shifted as there was a knock at the door, Moldark leaving her to answer it. From the corner of her eye she saw an old man in a black hood standing on the other side of the door, handing Moldark a potion of some kind.

  “Is this it then?” Moldark asked.

  The old man nodded. “Apply it to her wounds. With luck it should slow the process.”

  “Thank you.”

  Moldark closed the door and returned to the bed. He knelt down over her. “You’re awake.”

  Theresa tried to nod. Couldn’t.

  “You’ve been sedated for the pain,” Moldark explained. “It will wear off soon.”

  He began applying the contents of the potion to her bites.

  “I apologize for leaving you unattended,” Moldark said. “As privileged as few will be, with enough blood to drink from dusk till dawn – I sometimes forget how powerful the thirst for the kill can be.”

  He looked up and saw the pain in Theresa’s eyes.

  “They didn’t know who you were,” he said, trying to comfort her. “They didn’t know you were with me.”

  Theresa tried to speak again. She managed a single word. “Antidote?”

  Moldark stopped what he was doing. “I have but a humble alchemist at my disposal. Only Lord Fane himself would have access to such a powerful concoction.”

  Theresa shook her head. “He… He gave…”

  “He
gave it to you? The antidote?”

  Theresa forced herself to nod.

  “Where?”

  She lowered her eyes.

  Yes. That was a good question.

  Where was the antidote?

  Where was the Warlock’s bag she’d been carrying with her?

  Moldark studied her. He began reapplying the potion.

  “Village,” Theresa whispered. “I dropped it…”

  “I guess we’ll have to go back for it then,” Moldark said. He climbed off the side of the bed and reached into this draw for some medical supplies. He proceeded to bandage her left wrist as well as apply patches to her neck and shoulder. Then he forced her sit up and offered her some water.

  Theresa drank it.

  “Maybe you should stay here,” Moldark suggested. “I can fetch it myself if I know what I’m looking for.”

  Theresa breathed in. She reached out and grabbed his hand. “I was wrong about you.”

  “Were you?”

  “They’re all wrong about you,” she said. “You’re not evil at all, are you?”

  “You saw what we did to that village, didn’t you? Is that not evil?”

  He let go of her. Turned away.

  “I think I understand now,” Theresa said. “Your hatred of Lord Fane and the Princess has turned you away from seeing the good in most humans. Which is why you’ve led your people down this road. But you must know better. You must know that war isn’t the way to defeat them.”

  “There’s so much you don’t know, Theresa,” Moldark said.

  “So tell me.”

  “I can’t.”

  “You can.”

  “No, you don’t understand –”

  Theresa forced herself up and sat beside him. Forced him to look at her.

  “Whatever it is, I can handle it,” she assured him.

  “Can you?”

  “I’m here, aren’t I? I’m with you in your castle. And this must be the most fearful place in the world.”

  Moldark closed his eyes.

  Opened them. Repeated the process.

  “What are you doing?” she asked.

  “I don’t know how you can be real,” he said, touching her face. “Why are you having such an effect on me? That I would actually consider telling you –”

  “Isn’t this what you’ve wanted all along? To be with me.”

  “I expected if I spent more time with you it would wear off. But I find my feelings for you growing stronger. As if this isn’t a spell. As if this could be real.”

  They looked at each other in silence.

  “Promise me you don’t belong to one of them,” Moldark said. “Promise me that one of the others has not already possessed you. And then I’ll tell you everything.”

  Theresa stared at him, her lips parting.

  And just as she was about to answer, Harland’s face surfaced in her mind. His fuck-me pretty, green eyes burning as he grinned and thrust –

  “Promise me,” Moldark repeated.

  “I promise.”

  CHAPTER NINE

  Moldark got up from the bed. He went into his wardrobe and came back with a small potted plant and an empty jar. He set the jar on the ground and placed the plant in Theresa’s lap. “Do you know what this is?”

  She looked up at him. “It’s a bloodflower.”

  “Can you draw blood from it?”

  Theresa swallowed. “That could take an hour. If you want me to properly milk it.”

  “You can destroy the flower. I don’t mind. Just take it apart.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Do it.”

  Theresa moved the jar so it was between her feet and then she pulled the plant out by its root and began squeezed it.

  Liquid started to pour.

  “Rip into it,” Moldark suggested. “Cut it off at the top.”

  “But it won’t –”

  “Just do it, please.”

  Theresa carefully broke the top of the flower off and let the contents pour into the glass. It made it about a quarter full before she had to discard the flower.

  “That will be enough.”

  Moldark picked up the glass with the flower’s blood and held it up to Theresa’s eyes.

  “I wanted to show you what was happening at the Princess’s castle when she’s not there,” Moldark said. “Obviously we’ve gotten sidetracked, so this is the best proof I can offer.”

  “Proof of what?”

  “Drink it.”

  “No, I can’t –”

  “Drink. It.”

  He forced it up to her mouth.

  “No!” Theresa squealed fighting him away.

  He stopped then grabbed hold of her arm. “Theresa. Listen to me. You won’t know the truth unless you drink this.”

  “What’s it going to do to me? I haven’t changed yet!”

  “Exactly. You need to drink this as you are to fully understand.”

  “The blood flower is poisonous to humans. It’ll kill me.”

  “Who told you that?”

  “It was – everyone knows –”

  “She was lying to you, Theresa. They were both lying. Drink it and know the truth.”

  Theresa shook her head.

  Now it was almost like she didn’t want to know.

  “Theresa,” Moldark tried again. “Do you trust me?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “I’m asking you to take a leap of faith. Believe me, I wouldn’t ask you to do this if there was any chance –”

  “Alright,” Theresa said.

  She let the contents of the glass roll into her mouth.

  Moldark stared at her. His face unflinching.

  Theresa didn’t swallow. She was examining the blood’s taste.

  Huh.

  Moldark nodded.

  Theresa swallowed the liquid in her mouth.

  “That isn’t blood,” Theresa said. “That’s juice.”

  “Finish it. Go on.”

  Theresa complied.

  Moldark got up from the bed. He came back with a bottle printed with Emberlynn’s Bloodflower logo. He uncorked it and poured a small portion into the glass jar.

  Theresa raised it her lips.

  “Smell it,” Moldark said. “Don’t drink it.”

  Theresa put her nose into the glass.

  “That’s – that’s –” she spluttered. Just one more whiff to be sure. “That’s not even the same thing.”

  “No,” Moldark said.

  “But how can that be? Why does she have us out there slaving away, morning and night, all these years, cutting our hands up –”

  Moldark’s head went back.

  Theresa stopped midsentence.

  “Wait, you’re saying – you’re saying – No! NO!”

  “You haven’t been milking blood from the plants all these years, Theresa,” he said. “The plants have been milking blood from you.”

  CHAPTER TEN

  The jar slipped from Theresa’s fingers. It rolled across the floor leaving a line of blood behind it. She jumped up from the bed. Advanced towards the door.

  “Wait,” Moldark said, hurrying behind her.

  She tried to open the door but he closed it.

  She turned. Glared at him.

  “What are you planning to do?”

  “I’m going to tell the other nurses what the hell’s been happening,” Theresa declared. “They need to know.”

  “This doesn’t change anything.”

  “What?”

  “You’re all still servants, belonging to the Princess.”

  “Yeah, not after tonight.”

  “Stop,” Moldark said. “Relax. We’ll work something out together.”

  Theresa left the doorway and started making her way across to the other side of the room.

  “Before you completely lose your mind over this,” Moldark said, “you need to remember a few things first.”

  “Like what?”

  “As horrible as th
e truth might be for you, your work still prevented a war.”

  “No, it’s different now.”

  Theresa found the ledge of window. Started to climb through it.

  Moldark grabbed her by the shoulder and ripped her back out. Forced her against the wall.

  “Stop it!” she cried punching his chest.

  “That’s a ninety meter drop you were planning there. Not even I would survive that.”

  “I thought you’d be able to survive anything. You’re eternal and all that.”

  “Well, maybe I would survive. That isn’t the point. The point is you’re losing your mind over this and you need to come back to earth.”

  “She can’t get away with this!” Theresa shouted.

  “She’s dead, remember?” Moldark countered. “I shot her. It’s over.”

  “And now. And now there’ll be a war.”

  Moldark didn’t reply.

  “So the bloodflowers. The very thing that prevents you all from treating us as a rung below you in the food chain. It doesn’t even exist.”

  “That’s not entirely accurate.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean once upon a time, a long time ago, there really was a Night Garden. The bloodflower was illustrated, documented. When they found a flower that looked exactly like it back at New Haven Plantation, it was the very cover they needed to stop the war.”

  “I’m confused. I thought Fane was against us. What’s his angle?”

  Moldark chuckled to himself. He turned away and stared out the window.

  “You should have a clear picture by now where each of us sit,” Moldark said. “What each of us want. Who’s good and who’s evil depends on who’s telling the story. The only difference between them and I, is I tell the truth. Even when that truth is ugly.”

  He turned towards her, sneering.

  “So have you made up your mind yet?”

  “About what?” Theresa replied.

  “About whose side you’re really on.”

  He touched her face, his mouth widening.

  “Have you made your choice, Theresa?”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Perhaps he hadn’t figured it out yet, but there was never any question who held Theresa’s loyalty. It was the commoners who needed a voice to speak for them. The unprivileged people of this world who wanted nothing more than the opportunity to take care of their loved ones. It didn’t matter if it were warlocks or princesses or vampires who wanted to deprive them of that right. If they were against the people, then they were against Theresa.