by Izzy Shows
She was enchanting to behold.
“Oh. Hi,” he breathed, trying not to stare and at least managing to make eye contact.
Her lips curved into an inviting smile. “Would you like to dance with me? I hope that’s not too forward.”
“No, not at all!” he said, then his eyes widened in horror. “I mean to say, no that isn’t too forward. I would love to dance with you.”
She laughed, and his eyes fluttered shut for a bare second as he drank in the sound of it.
He was too young to be around other vampires, his sire had told him so, but he couldn’t have broken away even if it had been a command.
Opening his eyes to look at her again, he beamed a smile and held out his hand. They walked out to the dance floor, though she seemed to float as if on air.
Was she really floating? It was a distinct possibility, that she had perhaps misted a portion of herself to produce a more enchanting gait. Regardless, it was working.
He pulled her into his arms, his hand finding a home in the small of her back, and whisked her about the dance floor.
“I’ve never seen you here before,” she said.
“I should hope not. This is my first time.”
“Oh? So, I’ve been given the honour of your virgin dance then?”
“I suppose so,” he said, grinning.
“Any other firsts I could steal from you?” she asked, her eyes sparkling at him as her lips curved into a tempting smile.
His face flushed red with the stolen blood in his veins and he averted his gaze, unable to make eye contact now. “I, uh…I…” he stammered. Why was he so nervous around her? It’s not like he was inexperienced, that had been an accomplishment he’d made at a young age. And certainly, he’d slept with several of his victims since he had turned vampire. It was true though, that he had not slept with another vampire yet. Was that what she was getting at?
How did she know?
“It’s all right,” she said, laying her cheek against his chest while they swayed to the music. “You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.”
His breathing deepened as he cradled her to his chest, so aware of her proximity that he felt like he might explode. She was going to kill him just with her presence, he couldn’t possibly imagine what would happen if they were to…
He cut off the thought before he did something to embarrass himself.
Dropping his head so that his lips were near her ear, he whispered with a brusque tone. “I’ve never been with another vampire.” With the advantageous placement of his head now, he inhaled her scent, taking her into his lungs. Oh God, but she smelled good. He wanted to have her, wanted to keep her, wanted to own her.
Of course, that wasn’t possible. One had only to look at her to know that it wasn’t possible to own her, that she was as elusive as the wind, and would slip right through his fingers if he were to ever try and possess her.
“You could have me,” she whispered.
Her voice was so soft that he almost missed it, the words spoken into his chest the way they were. But his heightened hearing caught the words and burned them into his soul. His eyes went wide, heart sped up, as he contemplated the words she had gifted to him.
She would give herself to him?
What’s in it for her? The perverse, cruel part of his mind whispered.
Maybe she wants me too, did you ever think of that? He snapped back at his own inner doubting Thomas.
Of course, she wants a child that doesn’t know what he’s doing. You are a blip on her radar, a child compared to the ancients that roam this room. You must see that. Why should she ever be interested in someone like you?
It hurt to think it, but he had to admit that the suspicious voice in his head had a point. He didn’t think he was bad at what he did, on the contrary he was rather confident in his abilities. But what if she was used to something else? Something more? Were there things that one could learn over hundreds of years?
What about thousands?
He couldn’t possibly measure up to anyone else that she had known.
Yet he desperately wanted to.
She shifted in his arms, turning her face up to him. She looked so soft, so vulnerable in his arms like that, he almost believed in it.
“Do you want me?” she asked, her voice husky.
“Of course,” he said, unable to keep the instinctive reply from his lips.
She smiled at him, her eyes lighting up. “Come with me.” She straightened and stepped away from him, taking his hand to lead him off the dance floor.
He followed her without hesitation, his mind already coming up with imaginative scenarios of what the rest of the night would hold for him. He allowed them now, not trying to keep them under control or hidden away somewhere in the deep recesses of his mind, but allowing them to come to him unbidden. It made him impatient, made him want to sweep her into his arms and run through the castle while she laughed in delight. She would, wouldn’t she?
Maybe he should do that.
She opened a door and tugged him in, shutting it behind them.
“Hello, Bastian.”
He felt the blood drain out of his face, his lips and extremities went numb. He could no longer feel his hands, not that he would know what to do with himself if he had been able to process a real thought.
That was the voice of his sire. The man who had explicitly warned him not to interact too much with the other vampires, who had told him that it was dangerous to engage with them because they would take advantage. Told him that he couldn’t handle it until he had enough of his own experiences to know his limits and to be able to view the other vampires without falling under the compulsion humans felt.
And he’d done everything he’d been told not to do. Because of course he had fallen under the female vampire’s spell, and a part of him had been aware of it the entire time and done nothing at all to stop it. It wasn’t fair, this was an experience that he had wanted to have. And wouldn’t it have helped him to learn his limits, albeit in a different way?
“H-hello, sire,” he stuttered.
“Thank you, Ami, you may go now.”
Bastian watched as the woman left his side and pranced over to his sire, standing in the shadows. She stood up on tip toe and kissed his cheek.
“Did I do a good job, daddy?”
“Excellent, mon petite.” He brushed a kiss against her hair, and she left the room.
Leaving him alone with his sire.
Now he realised that it had all been a trap, a test. To see if he would do as he was told, and the woman really hadn’t been interested in him, she was just leading him to his doom.
He should have listened to the voice inside his head that had warned him. It was always right in the end.
Told you so.
Snark wouldn’t do him much good now.
“I’m sorry,” he gasped the words out in the vain hope that they would save him. Julius had told him when he was turned that he didn’t tolerate insubordination, that it wasn’t something that Bastian would ever be forgiven for doing.
This shouldn’t count, though. He was young, a fledgling, and he had gotten wrapped up with another vampire, yes, but was that really such a big deal? It hadn’t done any harm in the end, and he could learn from this.
He could do better. He could be good. A good servant for his master, that’s what he needed to be.
“Your sorry does me no good. Did I not warn you of this? Did I not say that you would not be able to resist the temptation of another vampire at your age? I told you not to come here.” Julius was not loud, that wasn’t his style. His voice was quiet, dangerous, it promised all sorts of pain.
“I—”
“Be quiet,” Julius snapped. “I will tell you when you can speak.”
Bastian bobbed his head and fixed his gaze on the ground in front of him, hands clasped in front.
“Do you know what would have happened had she belonged to someone else? She would have drawn you i
n, and you would have been taken by another master. Is that what you want?”
“No, Master, I want to serve you,” Bastian said. It was true, all he wanted to do was make his master happy. He just seemed incapable of reminding himself of that. Julius had told him not to come here, told him he couldn’t handle it, but he had decided that he was capable all on his own. He should have listened.
“You have wasted that opportunity.”
“No!” Bastian jerked his head up, eyes wide as they locked with Julius’. “I can be better, Master. I swear. I can be good. I can learn from this. You are right, as you always are, and I should have listened. I was bad, and I know, and I should be punished for this. But please, Master, give me another chance.”
Julius was quiet, allowing Bastian his moment to speak. That was terrifying all on its own, Julius never allowed anyone to interrupt him.
He didn’t even have the good excuse of saying he didn’t know what he was doing. He knew full well what the consequences were if he were to disobey, and he had done it thinking that it would all work out.
His hands trembled as he pleaded with his eyes for Julius to forgive him.
The older man approached him slowly, shrugging out of his embroidered coat. He rolled up the sleeves of his shirt to the elbow as he walked, never dropping Bastian’s gaze.
Bastian swallowed.
He didn’t know what was going to happen, but he knew it wasn’t going to be good.
What punishment was there for a vampire? Would he be lashed, or beaten? Perhaps he would be thrown into a cell, starved until he was too weak to speak back and had well and truly learned his lesson.
All these things he would submit to without argument, because he wanted his sire to forgive him.
Needed his sire to forgive him.
Julius reached him and clasped his face with both hands, tilting it up so that they were gazing into one another eyes.
“You have failed me, Bastian. I have no time to waste on a child that cannot obey,” he murmured before he dropped his head to Bastian’s neck.
Bastian screamed as the man’s fangs bit into his neck, struggling feebly against the stronger vampire, trying to free himself. He didn’t know what was happening, but he was well and truly terrified. He felt the strength and energy draining out of him as the blood left him.
The blood was all that kept him alive.
Julius continued to drink as Bastian’s flailing slowed down, weakened. Soon he became still, only vaguely aware of the room that he was in and what was going on. What was happening to him?
He knew that he needed to stop, he knew that he was dying now. But he couldn’t do anything about it, he was powerless against the might of Julius.
He drained every ounce from him and flung his corpse against the wall.
Aisling’s Dream
Aisling was running home, the wind blowing through her hair and the sounds of birds chirping in the distance kept her company. It was a beautiful afternoon, the sunlight filtered in through the canopy of trees above, glittering as it hit the blades of grass below.
Her bare feet glided across the grass and she took joy from every step.
Her home was in the distance, a cottage with a garden, bathed in golden sunlight. It was beautiful.
It was heaven.
How long had it been since she’d been home? Herne had kept her on the move for so long she’d almost forgotten what it looked like. There was always the next mission, the next thing she had to do for her duty. So much was going on, the world was in chaos, and though Herne had no capacity to order her, she respected him and listened without argument. Most of the time.
Like for the past few years.
She reached the door in a few more bounds, threw the door open.
He stood at the kitchen table.
She ran forward, threw her arms around him, and buried her face in his neck.
“I’ve missed you so much,” she said. She didn’t ever want to let go of him again. It had been so long since she had last been in his arms, since she’d felt his love around her. Maybe if she held him tighter, it would make up for all the time she had missed.
“Hey,” he said, speaking into her hair as he stroked her back. “I missed you too.” He placed his arms on her shoulders, pushed her back a bit so that they were looking at one another.
She found she couldn’t look him in the eye, her gaze skittering off to the side so that he wouldn’t see the shame she felt.
Because she was ashamed for leaving him, but she was also ashamed for feeling that shame. She had a duty to the other Wylde Fae, and they came before any mortal man. She shouldn’t feel guilty for upholding those beliefs, for standing by her fellow Fae and doing what needed to be done.
But she did feel guilty. Because all she wanted to do was stay with him. For every moment of his short life, she wanted to be there with him. She didn’t know how he survived on the crumbs of attention she gave him, waiting for her to return from whatever battle she had left to wage, waiting for her to come back to him and always being so accepting and understanding.
He kissed her, chasing away all her guilty thoughts and letting her enjoy the moment with him.
He always knew what to do.
She withdrew, smiling up at him as she finally looked him in the eye.
“It’s been so long…” she said, her voice trailing off.
“And yet it is as if you just left. Thank you for coming back to me,” he said.
She closed her eyes, the smile not leaving her lips. It was so easy to be with him, so easy to trust him, she didn’t know what she would do without him.
“Come with me, I want to show you something I’ve been working on,” he said.
Her eyes popped open and she quirked an eyebrow up at him, tilting her head to the side. “What is it?”
He stepped away from her, tugging at her arm. “Come and find out.”
She followed without any other questions, though they continued to run through her head. What was he working on? He hadn’t mentioned anything when she had left, but that had been years ago, at this point. He had to find things to keep himself busy, not that he was always in this house, on his own. He just made sure to be here in the months where it was likely that she would be coming home.
Every year, he’d return and wait for her.
He opened the door to his workroom, leading her inside. She looked around, frowning. The only thing new in the room was a chair made of metal, in the very center. Everything else was exactly as it had been, tools along the walls, a workbench against one wall, and the windows that brought in the natural light.
“A chair?” She asked, her brow furrowed.
“It’s a special chair. It’s taken me ages to make, so stop making that face,” he said, laughing.
“All right, all right. It’s a very nice chair.” She laughed as well.
“Take a seat.”
“Oh,” she said, hesitating. “But it’s…”
“Don’t worry. I would never risk you.”
That was true. She didn’t know why she had hesitated, he had never given her a reason to doubt him. That was so unlike her. She walked across the room and took a seat in the chair—and immediately screamed.
The sensitive skin of her thighs, exposed by the sway of her skirt when she’d sat, sizzled and she tried to jump up immediately after sitting, but found that her wrists and legs were bound to the chair now. Her brain raced, trying to make sense of what was going on.
Were they under attack? They had to be under attack! She had to make sure he was OK…
And then she made the connection.
She looked up at him, dazed through the pain from the constant burning sensation spread across her wrists, ankles, and thighs. Thankfully, her shirt protected her from the back of the chair, which would have done the most damage. Though the heat of it was very present, and she was terrified the shirt would give way soon.
He had done this to her. He had bound her to this chair.
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The chair made of iron.
“W-why?” She gasped the words out, the word costing her dearly. She could smell her flesh burning beneath her and she didn’t know what she was going to do with herself, didn’t know how she was going to get out of this mess.
He walked towards her, drawing a blade from behind him.
How had she missed that? She used to know everything that was in a room as soon as she entered it. She had let herself slip, grow rusty, let her trust of the man stop her from keeping her constant vigil. She should have known, should have seen this coming.
“You left me. Every time, you’re gone for longer and longer periods, and you just keep expecting me to always be here. Always waiting for you. The ever-patient man, it’s so romantic, isn’t it?” he snarled at her. “You never think about how this affects me, never worry about how I’m doing. You come back and you’re always so guilty.” He spat the word out. “You always need me to take care of you, to assuage your guilt and make you think it’s OK to keep doing this. To keep torturing me. This was your last chance, the last opportunity for you to walk in here and ask me if I was OK, ask me how I’d been since you’d last seen me. But you didn’t, did you? No, you never do.”
She was disoriented, trying to focus on his words, but they didn’t make sense to her. Of course, she wanted to know how he was, of course she was worried about what he was doing while she was gone. But she was so afraid to dwell on the topic, that it would make him think about it even more and he’d grow to resent her.
Somewhere, in the dark of her mind, she wanted to laugh. Cackle at her own stupidity. Because of course he resented her. Here he was, binding her to cold iron.
