by J. C. Diem
“We were met by guards sent from the Court upon landing.”
“Am I the only one who has to sleep during the day?” I complained.
“Older vampires such as I can resist the need to sleep for a time if needed.” So, I just had to wait for a few hundred years before I wouldn’t fall unconscious on my face at sunrise. Good to know. “They were dressed in military uniforms, which allowed us to be taken aside to avoid customs.” It was a clever tactic and if I hadn’t been kidnapped by these pretend soldiers, I would have felt more impressed. Instead, I felt annoyed and almost violated at being manhandled in my sleep, again. “We were bundled into the back of an enclosed truck during the daylight hours.”
“So, someone just carried me around like a sack of unconscious potatoes?” At Luc’s shrug, my mouth sagged open. “How were you planning to get me through customs in that state?”
“The same way I got you onto the flight in the first place. I have done this before, Natalie.” His tone implied he’d done it many times and that I shouldn’t be concerned. Screw that. I was completely vulnerable when the sun came up. How was I supposed to trust a man, a vampire, who I’d only just met? You must trust him to some extent, you jumped his bones for Christ’s sake! I didn’t want to think about that so chose to ignore it.
“What exactly is going on? Why were we brought here?” I sensed our situation was dire but that was mainly going by Luc’s reactions.
“I am not sure,” Luc replied uneasily. “The guards were waiting at the airport but I do not believe they were specifically waiting for me. I could hardly tell them I had pressing business elsewhere and had little choice but to pretend I was heading for the mansion. Igor was sent for to pick us up. Moments before you woke, he informed me that the Councillors seem to be recalling the members of the Court.”
If my blood had still been able to run through my veins, it would have run cold. “Do they know who I am?” I should have phrased the question as did they know what I was.
“Not yet. Hopefully they will not discover your true identity.” Resuming his pacing, Luc thought furiously. “Igor advised me that there have been portents of your birth.” At my quizzical look, he explained. “The moon turned blood red the night you awakened as one of us. Several animals and one child in this area were born with two heads over the past few days. I’m betting the occurrence wasn’t restricted just to France. Milk went instantly sour when poured. There are more signs, but you don’t need to hear them all.”
Great, now I was giving off portents of doom. What do vampires need milk for? It seemed unimportant so I didn’t ask. At least I knew why my milk had gone off so quickly now. I’d never have guessed that I’d been responsible for it.
“How are you going to explain my presence?” I hoped he had a plan because I was fresh out of ideas.
“Igor assumed you are my newly made servant and I did not correct him. The word will spread quickly.” He gave me a small, bitter smile. “I’m afraid you might be a curiosity for a short while but no one will attach any real importance to you.”
I was supposed to be Luc’s servant? I stared at him in disbelief. “Do you really think anyone will fall for me being your servant?”
“They will if you behave appropriately and don’t call attention to yourself.” We shared a grimace at the likelihood of that happening. “Just do as I say and act humble,” he instructed.
Humble? I’d heard of the word of course but it was difficult to apply the concept to myself. In exasperation, Luc gave me a series of quick instructions. “Do not meet anyone’s eyes. Stay two steps behind me at all times. Obey my every word instantly. When I do this,” he pointed at the ground, “drop to your knees and touch your head to the floor.”
“You’ve got to be kidding,” I whined then jumped at a knock on the outer door. We’d been practically whispering but I was still worried we might have been overheard. My hearing had become more sensitive since I’d become the living dead. I assumed this meant all vampires could hear things human ears couldn’t.
Striding over to me, Luc placed his hands on my shoulders. His expression was utterly serious. “Do you want to survive, Natalie?” I nodded, eyes so wide they must have been bulging out of my face. “Then never, under any circumstances, show this to anyone.” He lifted my hand to reveal the cross indent in my palm. “There are nine Councillors who run the Court but the one who is really in charge is known as the Comtesse. Our lives can be crushed at her merest whim.”
“What is a Comtesse exactly?” I was guessing it was some kind of French nobility.
“In English the word would be ‘Countess’.” It was nice to be right for once. I hadn’t met this Comtesse yet and I already didn’t like her. “Quickly,” Luc continued, “we must attend the Councillors before they become suspicious.”
Staying the required two steps behind my pretend maker, I followed him through the bedroom and out into the hallway. Another liveried servant bowed correctly then led us down to the second floor. Almost trotting to keep up, I resisted the urge to gawp like a country bumpkin again as we entered an immense ballroom.
Dark red drapes covered the windows, sweeping from nearly ceiling height to brush the floor. The floor was polished wood, stained the same dark shade as the antique furniture. I wondered how many of these creatures had been alive when the four or five hundred year old furniture that could be spotted here and there had first been made. Most? All? For all I knew, some of these people might be thousands of years old. Silvius had been. He’d been alive a thousand years before Jesus had even been born. A feeling of unreality swept through me. It was difficult to believe this was really happening to me, that I was really standing somewhere in France amongst a crowd of my fellow undead.
I’d felt overdressed in the car but now I felt way underdressed in the room full of vampires. The men all wore black tuxedos with blood red cummerbunds. Their gazes measured me, some lingering, some dismissing me instantly. The women wore dresses in a range of styles and colours and all were breathtaking. Pale breasts all but overflowed from their low cut gowns. Gold chains and sparkling gems abounded. Low, contemptuous laughter rippled through the room and I assumed it was aimed at poor raggedy little me. At last two hundred vampires were in the room but there was still plenty of space for more.
A stage had been erected at the far end of the room so that the nine seated vampires could look down upon their minions. After one quick scan, I summed them up as being ancient, deadly and extremely pompous. Several fidgeted, unwittingly displaying their nervousness. Six were male and the other three were female. All wore elaborate clothing that made the rest of the creatures in the room look like they were wearing rags.
As ordered, I kept my eyes on the ground after that single brief look around. My curiosity was overshadowed by my sense of self preservation. Luc swept down the centre of the room and I was unwillingly drawn along behind him. We stopped a few feet away from the stage and Luc pointed at the ground with his left hand. Gritting my teeth, I dropped to my knees and touched my head to the floor. Being a Lord, he simply went to one knee and bowed his head. Never again, I fumed silently. This kind of subservience might be acceptable or even expected in Europe. In Australia, you’d get a swift boot up the arse if you pulled this kind of pretentiousness on your servants.
“Lord Lucentio,” a female voice tittered. “How fortunate you have returned to us.” Her accent was hard to understand. English did not come naturally to her and I wondered why she bothered. Was it for my benefit? That was laughable simply because I was so insignificant. Besides, how could she possibly know I didn’t understand French? Because Luc had been sent to Australia to kill Silvius and he came back with me in tow. Being Australian, I most likely don’t speak French. It seemed like a logical conclusion to me.
“I am glad to be of service, my Lady.” Inclining his head again, Luc must have sensed my bile rise because he shot me a warning look.
Stiff clothing rustled as she rose, followed by dainty footste
ps, then pointy gold shoes came to a stop in front of me. “What is this? Have you made yourself a servant, Lucentio? After so many centuries of resistance, have you finally chosen a new bed mate?” At Luc’s silence, she impatiently kicked my hand. “Stand up, servant, let me look at you.” I bit my bottom lip to contain an expletive when my hand went numb from the blow. I was not enjoying the experience of being treated like a dog.
Luc rose to his feet. As he did, he tucked a hand beneath my elbow and smoothly pulled me to my feet beside him. As ordered, I made sure I didn’t meet the head vampire’s eyes. Even in four inch heels, the Comtesse was barely the same height as me. Her dress was the same shade of gold as her shoes. The neckline was higher than most and only the tops of her breasts peeked out through the lace. Her waist had been cinched in so tightly that it was a good thing she didn’t need to breathe. The tiny waist emphasized her voluptuously rounded hips. Her hair rose in an elaborate white up-do, giving her several more inches of height. I felt her derision as she inspected me from head to toe.
Making an impatient gesture at me, she followed up with a command. “Let us see what the great appeal is. Surely you must be remarkable to have captured Lord Lucentio’s eye. Take your clothes off, servant.”
Cutting a look sideways, I caught Luc’s stiff nod to comply. She’s got to be kidding. She wasn’t. I felt her cold stare burning into me and knew that to defy her would end in my undoing. Silvius had been crazy but even he hadn’t given off the aura of evil that this dainty creature did. She would think nothing of ending my existence. This I sensed even without meeting her sharp gaze. Ah fuck it. I might pale in comparison to most of the beauties in the room but at least I wasn’t completely hideous. Thanks to my transformation from alive to unalive, my face and figure had improved. If the old hag wanted to see me naked so desperately, then so be it.
Keeping my gaze lowered like the good servant I was pretending to be, I felt Luc’s tenseness as I stripped off as ordered. Standing in my bare skin, I held back a shiver and did my best to ignore the avid stares. Thank God I had a bikini wax recently.
“She is attractive enough, I suppose,” said the Comtesse after a lengthy inspection. “If you like skeletons in your bed.” At her snide comment, titters ran through the crowd. I heard a hint of disappointment in her tone that I hadn’t made a fuss about being naked in front of a couple hundred people. Maybe she was in a bad mood and was looking for someone to take it out on. I was going to make a fuss alright but not here and not now. To do so would mean my instant death and possibly Luc’s as well.
At another hand twitch from Luc, I dressed myself and waited for further instructions. I had a tight hold of the anger that wanted to burst out of me and throttle either Luc or the Comtesse. Possibly both.
Satisfied that my humiliation had sunk in, the Comtesse spoke a few words in French and the crowd began to mingle. I kept the required two steps behind my pretend maker, willing my face to remain blank. From the corner of my eye, I took in the true ruler of vampirekind.
Her skin was even paler than mine, an almost ghostly white. A light dusting of old fashioned white face powder sat on her skin. It didn’t sink in like it would have if her body had been warmer than room temperature. I’d thought her hair was white but it was actually a very light blonde. Her black eyes were set wide apart, reminding me of a praying mantis. Her lips, painted bright red, were thin and showed a hint of fang. It was impossible to tell how old she was in mortal years. I grudgingly supposed she was beautiful in an exotic way. Considering the ill will I currently felt towards her, even conceding that burned.
Taking Luc’s arm possessively, she drew him aside for a private conversation. They kept their voices down but I overheard snatches of ‘Mortis, ‘doom of us all’, ‘must be stopped’, ‘consult the Prophet’ and more along that vein. The Comtesse might be smiling but beneath her amusement was a quiet desperation. I became aware that every vampire in the room shared her fear. I was their bogyman and they’d just made me strip down like a cheap hooker. In all honestly, I didn’t think this looked good for their future survival as a species.
·~·
Chapter Twelve
An interminable hour or so later, Luc made his excuses and we were graciously allowed to retire. A servant escorted us back to our suite, just in case we’d forgotten the way. Either that or to make sure we weren’t going to try to steal anything. Luc closed and locked our door then shot a cautious glance my way. I stood at the end of the bed with my arms crossed, staring into space.
“Are you angry?” Luc’s question was spoken softly and with great caution.
I turned my head slowly in his direction and cocked it to the side as I pondered his question. “Angry? Me? Why should I be?” As if I’d just remembered, I smacked myself in the forehead. “Oh, that’s right, you just made me strip naked in a room full of strangers!”
Normally when I was this enraged, my chest would be heaving and veins would be standing out on my forehead. The only visible sign of my extreme anger this time was in my clenched hands and slight trembling. I’d kept a tight rein on my emotions for too long and they were about to spill out.
“Give me one reason why I shouldn’t scrag all of their arses and release Mort-,” before I could finish the word, Luc was across the room with his hand over my mouth. Wrestling me into the bathroom, he closed the door.
“You must be very careful not to speak that name,” he whispered, hand still over my mouth.
When he cautiously released me and stepped back, I paced the few steps away that the bathroom would allow then paced back again. “They,” I pointed upstairs to the floor above us, “are a pack of arseholes.” I said it in a whisper-shout that probably hadn’t carried much further than halfway down the outside hallway.
Leaning wearily against the door, Luc didn’t try to deny it. His expression was sad, almost forlorn. “Those ‘arseholes’ are the closest creatures I have to a family.”
Taken aback, I felt my anger draining away. I knew what it was like not to have any family. I’d been alone for nine years now. Sometimes it felt like I’d always been alone. Something the Comtesse had said came back to me. “What did the praying mantis mean about your centuries of resistance?”
Staring over my head, Luc crossed his arms. “I do not want to talk about that.”
“Ok. How about we talk about me being forced to strip naked so two hundred perverts could point and laugh at me?” Now my anger was back, pulsing in my head, making my hungers rise. “Do you have any idea how humiliating that was?”
Luc shot me a wise, knowing and somehow ashamed look. “Unfortunately, I know very well. There are worse things, Natalie Pierce, than being forced to merely shed your clothing for strangers.”
Another knock came at the outer door. Luc hid his dread well and went to answer it. I followed reluctantly and was relieved when my pretend maker motioned me to stay behind this time. He closed the door and followed the liveried man down the hall. Like a good pretend servant, I remained in the room as ordered.
Tense, nervous and bored, I took a shower and borrowed the blow drier I found in the cupboards beneath the maroon sink. At least the ancient creatures were capable of using electricity and modern tools. Wearing a fluffy red towel, I searched through my backpack and pulled out fresh clothes. It might be spring in France but it was still pretty cold. I couldn’t seem to rid myself of a constant chill. Judging by the low but well-tended fire, I wasn’t the only one lacking essential body heat.
There wasn’t much to see in the suite, just the bed, a couple of bedside tables, a large dresser and a sturdy wardrobe. A quick search in the bedside table revealed a lone book that had been pushed to the back and then forgotten. I pulled it out, lay down on my stomach on the bed and began to read without bothering to check the title.
Several hours later, familiar footsteps approached. The door opened and I deigned to flick a glance up at Luc. He closed the door, locked it then began pacing up and down. I continued to read,
engrossed in a story of fiery love, lust and betrayal. The novel had been written well over a hundred years ago. The language was hard to decipher at times but it was better than sitting around twiddling my thumbs.
Luc stopped pacing and bent to read the title. “I did not know you spoke French.”
“I don’t,” I replied and turned the page.
“Then how can you possibly be reading that book?”
I focussed on the foreign words and dropped the book like it was on fire. Had I spontaneously taught myself how to read a foreign language? “I, ah, hmm.” I couldn’t come up with an explanation.
Luc rattled off a string of words at me. “What did I just say?” he demanded.
Trying to remember it all, I wrinkled my brow. “Something along the lines of ‘this should not be possible, the Prophet never mentioned such a thing, if the Comtesse finds out she will flay the skin from us both’.” The words sunk in and I was on my feet in a flash, stuffing my dirty clothes into my backpack.
“What are you doing?” Luc asked.
“Leaving.” I thought it was pretty obvious but maybe that was just me.
“Dawn is almost upon us. We won’t be going anywhere until nightfall,” he pointed out.
At the warning I felt instantly and tremendously tired. Lurching toward the bed, I dropped onto it face-first and knew no more.
Waking to arms around me and a chest at my back, I stretched and luxuriated in the feeling. I rarely had one night stands but I’d obviously gotten lucky last night. It was funny, I’d had the longest and weirdest dream of my life. I dreamt that I’d been attacked by a crazy old vampire and had been turned into something called Mortis. I’d had fantastic sex with a guy called Lucentio and had flown to France. Then I’d had to strip naked in front of a bunch of vampire perverts and had somehow learned how to interpret French.
“Good evening, Natalie,” an accented voice whispered into my ear and I knew it had all been real.
