by Lucy Lyons
In the mirror, a very different me stared back from my reflection. Instead of looking younger; the up-style of my hair and plunging neckline of my bodice made me look older, more worldly and mature. I flushed at how much of me was visible and the pink spread quickly over my face and down to the ruffle that seemed the only thing preventing my breasts from escaping their bindings. A bell tolled in the distance and Rachel took my hand.
“It is time for the master to awake. You and the others will be good offerings.” Others? My heart leapt at the thought that Becca and Mackenzie might still be alive. I let Rachel escort me down another long hall and clung to her for a moment when she stepped aside to let Colette take me through the door. “Don’t worry, little one. She can’t harm you. None of us can. You have been chosen for a most noble sacrifice.” Another bell toll sounded in the distance and Colette took my hand and pressed me against her side, her lips against my ear.
“The master wakes, little witch.” She held my face in her supernaturally strong hand and kissed my mouth, her lips tasting of mint and something metallic. I didn’t fight her as she deepened the kiss. I concentrated all my strength, focus and will into my shield, until she yelped and jerked back. The force of my shield had driven her from me. White-faced, she glanced toward the room on the other side of the ornate door, hesitating. But the bell tolled a third time and the doors slowly opened in front of us.
The sexual sadist, Colette, gingerly placed my hand over her arm and walked me into a huge ballroom with the golden trappings and domed ceiling. I looked up at a mural above the crystal chandeliers, a horrific scene of blood and slaughter. Colette led me to the far end of the room where a coffin stood next to a throne. My heart raced as I stared at the ornate stone in front of me, mesmerized by my terrible fantasies of what lay inside.
Chapter 7
A sound caught my attention. I whipped my head around and saw two other girls being led into the room by other vampires. I recognized Becca; not by any physical features but from the blank, glassy stare of the girl trailing behind her who could barely hold up her own head. “Mackenzie”, I thought to myself. She was a Renfield in truth and my heart ached for the pretty, vacant blonde and her frightened friend.
They were dressed as I was, in dresses that bared enough neck; cleavage and arm to provide multiple places for a vampire to bite. Becca was tall and athletic, but Mackenzie was even shorter and tinier than me . It seemed that our master vampire didn’t have a specific type that interested him as food, but the vampires that took us had their own preferences. I watched the vampire that was leading Becca shoot possessive and territorial looks around the room as he walked her to her place and backed away to join Colette.
I didn’t recognize any vampire power present as the one who took me. I tried to take in as much of the room as possible in the little glances I dared before the casket pulled my eyes back to it. The air in the huge room shifted and the fifty or so vampires that surrounded us stood at attention.
A vampire stepped out onto the dais from behind the throne and my blood curdled. I hadn’t seen his face in the darkness when he took me, but the power that pressed against me like a physical weight was all too familiar. He was dressed like the others, in a cross between high Victorian fashion and an Anne Rice novel.
His boots came above his knees. Tight leather pants that laced up the front were tucked into them. His shirt was blood red and flowing and though it also laced up, it was undone in a deep “V” that showed the stark whiteness of his chest, a white made purer from lack of blood. His long black hair was slicked back and tied in a ponytail at the nape of his neck; making it appear from the front; as though it was cut close to the head. His eyes were a blue so pale they looked like small crystals of ice in an otherwise marble face. Looking at him was more terrifying than staring at the coffin, so that was where I focused. I only glanced at him from time to time as he began some sort of ritual.
He raised his hands and the crowd around us began chanting in unison. I took Becca’s hand and focused on my shield, pulling all my reserves and shoving them into that feeling in my head that I was beginning to recognize as my power.
“All praise to the Master of the City; my brother Nicholas; who is risen from his decades of slumber to lead us once more!” Vittorio, the pale vampire raised his voice and the vampires chanted louder with him. My blood froze in my veins at the sound, and I focused on not fainting from fear.
Becca moaned in anguish and I glanced up to see her friend being led by the hand to the dais. He stood her over the closed casket and from it tugged a needle into view. She stared unseeing ahead of her, as her slammed the needle into her arm at the soft spot inside her elbow. I cringed and looked away as the room spun around me. I felt my hand being yanked and my shoulder almost dislocated as the vampire behind Becca moved forward to force her up to the other side of the casket.
I took a step toward her, but Colette grabbed my arm and pulled me back against her, so close that I could feel her heart race. She was afraid and her fear was enough to make me obey her without fighting. The vampire leading Becca stared into her eyes and her next scream died on her lips as her face went slack and the intelligence disappeared from her eyes.
A second needle was produced and both girls were drained, right in front of me. I dug my fingernails into my palms in disgust and shame. I’d been unable to save myself let alone the others kidnapped with me. They stayed standing long after I thought they would; swaying on their feet as the ruby liquid flowed from them into the casket.
As the two escorts finally picked up their charges and carried them out of sight; they were replaced by two more male vampires. They strained to lift the heavy stone lid and set it on the floor at the head of the coffin. They reached their hands in and I pressed harder against Colette. She didn’t make any wisecracks and I was grateful. I wished for the magic ability to make myself invisible and slide right through her and the wall at her back. I held my breath as they lifted their master from his bed and it escaped in a loud whoosh as he turned and faced the room.
The sheer power that flowed out through the room nearly bowled me over as it slammed into my chest and pushed through me. Colette held me upright and when his gaze turned to us, she put my hand over her arm and led me up the steps to face him. The vampire that had first captured me hissed slightly and Colette glared at him before stepping between us. I felt the animosity between them, but I had eyes only for the master. Instead of a gnarled, ugly creature; I was staring at possibly the most handsome creature I had ever seen. His eyes were dark and green, like emeralds over onyx and were deep set under heavy eyebrows. He was too rugged to be pretty, but his full lips, deep red from the blood that had just infused his body, softened the edges of the angles of his face. All the same, his power rang out in my head like a deep, clear bell. He was older than I had the ability to even guess.
The only visible physical imperfection was a long, ragged scar that ran from the corner of his right eye, down his cheek to his jaw. It was angry and red, but instead of ruining his face it managed to make him more handsome.
“Oh, shit. He’s in my head,” I thought to myself. Instantly, I felt two reactions. Colette, who I recognized, replied with something akin to “No kidding, stupid,” while a second reaction of silent amusement merely tested my wall, gently prodding it while never taking his eyes from me. Angry and scared, I slapped at him. His eyes widened a split second before his power rammed through me like a Mac truck. I flew backward and landed hard on the stone floor, too stunned to even hit with my hands first. My head slammed against the floor right after my shoulders and the earth shook.
Hands lifted me up; I kept my eyes closed as much from the pain as from the fear of what was holding me. I trembled and a flicker of annoyance passed through him, as I felt him force his way into my thoughts again. I knew the master had me pinned against him, his mouth hovering over my throat. My walls had crumbled, and in that final agonizing moment to at least die as me; instead of a mindles
s zombie; I repeated the Latin spell I had memorized from Dominique’s book aloud. It was the one she had begun to teach in class to chase intruders from our psyches.
It didn’t force him out, but he paused and instead of pushing harder, he picked me up and cradled me in his arms. I risked opening my eyes and once the stars cleared I was looking up at a face that was still impossibly beautiful. I was so attracted to him but it wasn’t glamor, at least not consciously. “Oh God,” I thought to myself. “David’s ability to draw women is a psychic gift.” The thought made me groan aloud and the master vampire looked down at me in alarm. I closed my eyes and made myself as small as I could wishing that he’d forget me.
“Not likely, little one. You are far too sweet for me to simply forget I have you in my arms,” he chuckled, his voice deep and thick as taffy. I stiffened and he laughed again. It was a masculine chuckle that sounded very much alive and stirred things I would never have expected deep in my stomach. My pulse fluttered and I felt a masculine sense of triumph in him.
He set me down in a chair by a fire, in a bedroom of sorts. There were books all around me, stacked on the floor; the tables, and on shelves that lined almost every wall. The large, four-poster bed that stood to one side was bigger than any king sized I’d ever seen. The room itself was richly decorated, with heavy red drapes covering the windows. The tapestries hanging on the walls depicted hunting scenes with hounds and men on horses chasing a fox through the woods and over pastures.
I was so taken with the room, I forgot to be afraid of the master himself and smiled as I pulled a small hill of books into my lap and held them like baby birds, cradled in my hands.
“Are these all yours?” I gasped.
“One does tend to gather things, when one lives long enough,” he drawled. I gaped at him, astonished at how quickly I’d forgotten he was the big bad wolf I feared. His glamour was powerful, but impossible to detect if I wasn’t concentrating on it. My heart thudded in my chest. He held up a hand to dismiss my thoughts. “I’m not going to harm you. Despite whatever you may have heard or been taught, we are not animals.”
“Oh, I’m quite sure that some of you are.” I pictured the photo I kept by my bed, of my mother and father.
“Just as you have monsters among you, so do we.” He held out a hand, and though I tried to fight it, my hand slid into his. I was surprised to find it warm and strong, and too pleasant to admit to myself. He released my hand abruptly as Rachel appeared with a tray in her hands. I smelled Lady Grey tea as she set a filigreed cup next to my elbow and another by the master’s.
“You and your kind are sharks. You exist only to prey on humans. Just because you are beautiful, doesn’t mean you’re good,” I argued, but my voice sounded unsure and weak.
“Watch your tongue,” warned Rachel sharply. The master raised his hand and she bit off her next words. At his dismissal, she left us alone again.
“Who are you?” I asked, fighting to keep my voice cool and sure, despite the turmoil in my gut and the ringing in my head from the blow it had taken.
“Ah, Miss Caroline,” he replied. I nodded and lifted the teacup he pushed toward me. “I am Nicholas. I am most pleased to make the acquaintance of a young Venatores with such distinguishing power,” he added. “Dominique has taught you well, but you are so very young.” His voice trailed off as he watched me flinch in surprise before I could school my expression blank. “Oh, yes, the Borgia family and I go back beyond ages.”
“You read my mind,” I said accusingly. He nodded. His face was inscrutable and it made me more anxious than if I knew what he felt. If he felt anything at all. “Are you going to drain me?” I couldn’t stop the words from flowing out of my mouth, even as I saw the flicker of irritation in his face.
“Perhaps.” I gulped hard. I needed to keep him wanting me alive more than dead.
“Lady Borgia is one of our greatest sorceresses, but she is very mysterious. If you were from a family that had been assassins for a thousand years, you would be mysterious too,” he retorted, one corner of his mouth lifting in amusement.
I gasped. I had heard rumors, but that they were true was thrilling. I suddenly had more questions than I thought anyone but Dominique herself could answer.
“How, do you know Lady Borgia?”
“Even in the beginning, the Borgias were wealthy aristocrats and patrons of the arts. They were also always aware that another world thrived beneath the cover of darkness. Our relationship was mutually beneficial.” I cringed. The master vampire was friends with the sorceress who was training me to kill vampires, had possibly killed for her own family.
“Kill me, or let me go,” I demanded. I couldn’t believe the Venatores capable of working with vampires. I refused to listen to a master vampire’s lies.
“You don’t get to make demands,” he snarled. “I will keep you as I wish, let you live, or let you die. For now, you’re interesting to me. Do not assume that we kill as easily as your beloved hunters. The Venatores are far more bloodthirsty than we have ever been, yet your tiny sect still exists, does it not?”
“You’re saying you could kill us all, if you wished?”
“We obey the laws our elders and the Venatores set before us. But, yes, if it came to war, there would be no Venatores Lamiae left.”
“You work with the hunters?”
He smiled at me, a predatory grin that made my pulse race and my mouth dry. “Those I find intriguing,” he replied, glancing down at the pulse fluttering in my throat. “You, my dear naïve little Caroline, are most intriguing.”
I looked away and stared into the fire as it danced and blazed, warming my face. Slowly it dawned on me that the fire and the tea were for my benefit. A master vampire wouldn’t have need of a flame. The room, the fire, it was mine, not his; I wasn’t going to die. Not tonight, anyway. I sipped my tea and thought. If I wasn’t dead yet, I just had to live until sunrise.
I hummed over my teacup and built up my shield around me, one thought as a time. I had no intention of dying; I had to make it back to the Venatores. I had no idea which way was up anymore, but I did know that I had questions, and they were going to give me answers.
I glanced over at the master vampire but his seat was empty. I was chilled; his power to cloud my mind was so expert that he had left without me noticing. My bravado fled and I shivered despite the roaring fire in front of me. I was alive, but all I had was questions and the stark terror of my reality. I was trapped and if he was telling me the truth, it was possible no one cared that I’d been taken.
Chapter 8
I couldn’t begin to imagine going to sleep; even when I tried the door and the windows they were locked tight. I hadn’t expected any less, but it was still disheartening to feel so helpless and alone.
I had been spoon fed hatred of vampires all my life. Now I had more questions about the Venatores Lamiae than I did about vampires. In fact, I had one question about vampires. How the hell did I get away from them and back home?
I missed David. The sting of his callous behavior had dulled in the face of what I was sure was my inevitable death by draining. My mind reached out for him. I’d never been away from him in my whole life since my parents died. He would never be my boyfriend. But, he was still my best friend.
Now, I was in the most terrifying of strange places, and David was a comforting weight in my mind. It was almost like he wasn’t as far away as I feared. I reached out, but while I felt him, he wasn’t close enough to respond, or maybe he didn’t want to. I tried to do the same with Clayton, but we’d never been as close, and I couldn’t feel him at all.
Feeling David meant that my mind wasn’t invaded or under the effects of glamour. I ran to a window and threw back the curtains, expecting to see daylight, but there was complete black behind the glass. Frustrated, I examined it more closely, bringing the candelabra from the table closer to see better. The candles appeared in mirror image in the glass, aside my pale, frightened face and wide eyes. There was no vi
ew to the outside: only more stone, or dirt. Something kept the window from ever encountering the sunlight. I checked the remaining three windows and they were all the same. I slammed down the candle holder and screamed my frustration.
Despair overtook me easily as I sat in the corner of the room; my back to the wall. I hugged my knees to my chest and rocked; my mind refusing to accept any coherent thought that could help me out of my opulent prison. I thought of Domonique and the hunters. My questions required that I live to receive answers.
I breathed in and counted to eight as I exhaled, like I had learned to do to control my anxiety. As I worked on my breathing, I realized I hadn’t thought of anxiety or depression since I’d been taken. Apparently fight or flight responses trumped garden-variety issues. Either that or the master’s glamour was affecting my unconscious responses.
With that thought in mind, I practiced my mental shield, putting up and removing the wall repeatedly until I could do it without focusing on each individual part. I wished that I had Dominique’s book with me so I could practice spells. I hadn’t read the whole thing. It was possible a spell that could immobilize vampires was sitting in my carry-on in my hotel room while I was wondering how many hours of life I had left.
