by Vivian Lane
“Don’t call me that,” she muttered.
“You say something, Catie?”
“No, sir.” She kept her eyes on the floor as he circled her like the predator he was.
“I think you did, little Cate… You gonna hit me, or stare at your bloody toes all day?”
Don’t let him get to you; don’t let him get to you…
It was one thing to learn how to throw a punch, another to actually use a weapon on another being. Her parents had always taught her to resolve conflicts with words, and if she had to, run.
William started poking her with the Bo as he walked around her, just hard enough to be annoying. “Hit me, hit me, hit me, hit me…”
“No,” she ground out.
“No? You don’t get to say ‘no’ to anything, sweetheart. Well, I’m sure you’ll say it plenty to Tallis when he rips into your sweet cunny, but—”
That’s it! Catherine pivoted and brought the staff up between his legs as hard as she could, her eyes wide as saucers a second later.
William groaned in pain and doubled over, but didn’t fall. He limped around the room while she kept a wide berth between them. She was deathly afraid of what he’d do once he could straighten up. “Good hit,” he wheezed.
“I…”
“One, I told you to hit me, and two, always fight dirty if it lets you live another day. Some punk on the street isn’t going to stick to official boxing rules, and neither will a demon. Continue, Miss Mitchell.”
“Are you…?” She waved her hand in the direction of his body, not believing he wanted to go again so soon. Wasn’t he still in pain?
William nodded encouragingly. “Three, learn to fight through pain. It’s hardly the worst hit I’ve ever gotten. Come on, now. We’ll do somethin’ easy. I swing this way, you block it.”
She could do that, like playing patty-cake with the sticks. Slowly, he pivoted the staff at different angles so she could meet them. Soon, she got into the rhythm of it and didn’t realize the speed was steadily increasing.
The game stopped when she managed to get through his defenses and bop him on the nose. “Oh! Sorry!”
He sniffed, but kept going. “Don’ worry ‘bout it. No blood, no foul. It proves you’re getting better at reading,” he said with a grin.
Catherine smiled back.
A chocolate truffle was on her pillow that night when she turned in for bed, accompanied by a note.
Have to respect a woman that goes for the family jewels.
William
She giggled and popped the truffle in her mouth.
Mmm, bittersweet…
It seemed like forever since she’d had any chocolate.
Waking up to find it was her time of the month was inconvenient, but luckily, she had supplies in one of her boxes. She went about her day as normal, though it might have seemed at lunch that the demons noticed her more than usual.
I’m sure I imagined it, she thought, walking to class.
As she rounded the corner, someone pushed her into the wall from behind. A female someone, judging by the breasts pressing into her back.
“Nothing personal, mon amie, but I’ve been on bagged blood for a month, and you smell so good.” The redhead French vampire, then. Colette. She pushed Catherine’s head to the side and licked the skin over the jugular. “If you are quiet, I’ll even make it good for you, hmm?” she whispered, then plunged her fangs into Catherine’s neck.
At least it isn’t Tallis, she thought, already feeling woozy. She made her peace with death just as the arms around her disappeared in a cloud of dust, and fainted as a pair of strong, pale arms caught her.
****
Catherine’s eyes fluttered open. “What…?” She was no longer in the hallway, but somewhere downstairs.
“Stay still. You’ve lost a bit of blood,” William said.
“She bit me…”
“She’s dead. Catherine…how long does your…?”
Her brow scrunched in confusion. “Huh?”
“How long does your cycle last?”
“Three or four days,” she murmured absently, her eyes closed. Her head still felt dizzy.
“You’re going to be kept away from the others, then, for your safety.”
“Okay… William?” It was the first time she’d addressed him by name.
“Yeah?”
“Thank you.”
Alicia came bustling in with her arms loaded with sugary foods. He rolled his eyes at her and left.
Chapter Three
Week Three
By week three, Catherine had mastered the waltz, the Viennese version was passable, and she could carry out a decent tango. Alicia taught her the tango.
The day of the incident, William ordered her to bed with her books and wouldn’t let her get back to fight training without having the wound healed by a bit of magic.
“How does it look?” she asked, once the witch was done.
He tilted her head to the side to put her neck in the light, running his fingertips over the formerly blemished skin. “Good as new.”
She shivered in a not-entirely-unpleasant way. Which was so not good. And weird. Very weird.
To William’s credit, he didn’t seem the least bit tempted to make her a meal by her…female issue. But, she was worth money to him, an asset waiting for a client. He had to deliver her in perfect condition.
So far, she could also walk gracefully in various heights of heels, even on stairs, identify a hundred different types of demons by picture, carry out perfect table manners, write the perfect thank you note, and run five miles with only being slightly winded.
Normal? Not so much, but Catherine was extremely motivated by the fear of what was to come.
Mrs. Crumb deemed her previous knowledge in history and literature suitable for conversation.
Alicia was satisfied with her ability to run figures. The genie drilled Investing 101 into her brain. And the sex ed was…enlightening. Alicia had no problem talking about herself. Once upon a time, she helped William with something, granting a wish, and he repaid her by wishing her free. She said there were a lot of free djinn in the world and staying with William kept her under the radar.
Catherine still couldn’t believe all these fantastical creatures were real.
They were just wrapping up another class now.
“Here,” Alicia said, presenting her with an unmarked brown box.
“What is it?”
Alicia smirked. “Something to help with your homework. See you tomorrow!”
Catherine peeked in the box, blushed, and ran up to her room to slide it under her bed. At least Alicia hadn’t gone into a lecture on the wonders of said product and its myriad uses! She liked the woman, she really did, but Alicia had little tact, and even less modesty. Apparently, when you’re several centuries old, you stopped thinking of such things.
It wasn’t that Catherine had never experimented with her…lady parts. She’d even looked at them in a mirror before, but…well, her mother died before getting past the “where babies come from” lecture and her grandmother certainly wasn’t going to share any tips. Her questions were left to be solved by answer columns in magazines like Glamour and Cosmo. Typical for most young women, right? You fumbled about with boyfriend after boyfriend until you figured out what worked for you, unless you happened to find that one magical guy who could read you like a book.
Alicia also had another motive for sharing as much as she did. “Things will be different once he turns you,” she’d said. “But you still have to know how to take care of yourself.” Then, her voice dropped to an intimate murmur. “If you know yourself, you can be prepared for the pain.” Alicia’s motto was girls have to stick together. It made Catherine feel like she had one ally in this house.
And then she slipped Catherine a note with a summoning incantation written on it, “just in case”. It didn’t say what it actually summoned. She didn’t want to know.
Halfway through her training, now
, she was acutely aware time was rapidly slipping away. Only three more weeks until Tallis came back to get the progress report from William.
William brought in a new book for her to study. Well, it was an old book like all the rest, but new to her. The History of the Most Feared Vampire Clans of All Time. “This is the most accurate version in written form.”
“Alright…” She wasn’t making the connection why that was important.
“It includes the clan you’ll be born into, Catherine.” He’d taken to using her first name since she’d been bitten. She hadn’t asked why.
Her mouth formed an “o” as the light bulb turned on above her head. “Tallis is in here?” she asked, patting the book.
“Among many others. You’ll get the same stories from him, although they’ll be a lot more colorful than the truth, the pompous git.”
She nodded. “Will there be a test?”
William shook his head, a little smile playing at his lips. “Nah, this one’s for your own good. You should, uh…you should have the truth.”
“Okay,” she said. “Thank you, sir.”
“William. You’ve been here long enough, and you’re more respectful than Alicia. It’s William.” He turned away and selected a Bo off the wall. “So, ready to earn today’s bruises?”
“If you’re ready to earn yours,” she countered.
He laughed. “Just as long as you stay away from the knackers, love.”
In her room, she picked up the book to read after dinner. The front two pages were a family tree in tiny print, the page number recorded next to each name. Glasses on, her finger skimmed down the line as she looked for Tallis’s name.
Tallis—sired Peter and Celia. The book said there were actually four vampire clans, breeds, and Tallis came from the Reds.
Skipping ahead to William’s pages, Catherine’s eyes poured over the book. He was listed as a Gold vampire. The account described his exploits in gruesome detail up until he and his maker parted ways the last time in Seattle. Was William really so distraught over losing his sire that he retreated from the world in this house from then on? Alicia had already mentioned it was a modern business, but Catherine hadn’t guessed it was less than ten years old.
Two things stuck out in his biography—his zest for a challenge and his devotion to his sire. Had they been entwined? Merely ways to prove himself to her? He was still an enigma.
The book seemed to stop for every vampire in 1975, so she guessed another volume was being written somewhere at this minute.
She shouldn’t like him, of course. As decent as he might have been since she came to stay here, he was still a killer, a murderer, a vampire. Monster. Feeding was a natural instinct for any species, but he hadn’t only fed to survive—he’d killed people and enjoyed it. Meditated on how he would carry it out. It was all on the pages. Even without a conscience, he’d still had a choice.
Stockholm Syndrome was not where Catherine wanted to see her life going.
“Just continue getting yourself through this so you can escape later,” she muttered. “You have to think of how to survive.”
****
The next day, Alicia came up to say they were going shopping.
“Does William know?”
The genie rolled her eyes. “Yes, William knows, it was his idea! Do you want some fresh air, or not?”
“Yes, definitely!” Catherine rooted around for her purse and coat and hurried to catch Alicia in the hall. “Where are we going?”
“Into London, of course. We’re not going to find you a ball gown in the nearby hamlet.”
“Ball gown? Huh?”
“William’s taking you to the opera next week. He didn’t tell you?”
“Not yet.”
Alicia tsked. “Just like a man. Well, anyway, we’re getting you a dress and a makeover, no expense limit imposed.”
“A m-makeover?”
She rolled her eyes again. “Well, you can’t go looking like that! Haircut, manicure, make-up…the works, honey. Trust me, when I’m through with you, you’ll be the envy of every rich slob stuck with an old, fat wife. The gossip rags will talk for weeks!”
Gulp. Catherine looked heavenward and sent up a little prayer.
Alicia chattered the whole ride to London, citing their route for best designer fashion efficiency. Catherine tuned it out, looking out the windows at her first glance at freedom in almost four weeks. Would it be possible to give Alicia the slip while they were out? Did she want to?
The first stop was at a salon/spa. To someone used to getting her hair cut at Fantastic Sam’s, the exclusive spot made her feel a bit overwhelmed. The women sitting in the chairs in this place were wearing jewelry worth more than her grandmother’s house. Alicia didn’t seem to notice, breezing in like she owned the place and slapping down a platinum card on the desk.
“I need a trim and a pedi, and she needs the works,” she announced, jerking her thumb at Catherine.
“Yes, madam. Any specific requests?”
Alicia looked at Catherine with a critical eye. “Her hair should stay long. Anything else you do is up to you.” She was ushered to a station to have a seat while Catherine was whisked off further into the shop.
Several people buzzed around her at once, brushing her bangs off her face and looking at her hands. One woman held color swatches up to her face, then shuffled off.
A man wearing a tight tee and designer jeans pushed her into a chair. “What’s your name, love?”
“Catherine,” she meekly replied.
“Well, you’ll be Catherine the Great by the time we’re through. How do you feel about color?”
“Color? I-I don’t know about—”
“An intensity glaze, then. We just have to do something about this mousy tone, see? Going to make your skin tone and eyes pop.”
“If you say so…”
He started mixing stuff in a bowl while the manicurist came over with polish bottles. “Pick one for your toes,” she commanded, holding them out. Catherine pointed to the blood red. “Perfect. You use your hands much, hon?”
“I guess so…”
“Thought so. We’ll do a good buff and shape, then finish with the top coat.” She pulled out her files and grabbed a hand.
The make-up lady came back with some base colors. She tested them on Catherine’s cheek and bustled off again to mix the custom shade.
Alicia gave her a thumb’s up while she talked on her cell. A stylist was combing through her chic middle-parted bob.
Two hours later, they finally let Catherine look in the mirror.
“Didn’t I tell you they were fabulous?” Alicia gloated.
“Yeah…” Catherine said, caught up in the image she saw before her.
She looked…flawless. Ageless, yet definitely more grown up than the eighteen-year-old girl that walked in the door. Her hair was glossy enough to be its own light source, the mascara now on her lashes made her eyes look huge, and her feet felt soft as a baby’s. The bangs that had been too long were now trimmed just above her eyebrows, which had also been groomed into perfect arches. She was leaving with a bag stuffed full of products to help maintain this “vision”, though she felt she’d never be able to duplicate their results.
Alicia paid for their services and dragged her back out to the car. “Now you’re ready to walk into Dior!”
Catherine had only read about shopping being thoroughly exhausting. She’d never experienced it firsthand until today. Maybe it was a demon thing, because Alicia was like the Energizer Bunny in her mission to find the perfect everything. They went to clothes stores, shoe stores, lingerie stores…it was all one big blur of horrendously expensive merchandise.
In the end, they had a dress being custom altered, shoes, a new lingerie wardrobe for Catherine (and wasn’t that embarrassing), and a formal clutch to match the dress. It was a relief when they finally stopped for dinner.
“I’m surprised a girl like you didn’t try to slip away today,” Alicia
said as she peppered her salad.
Catherine paused, then put the bite on her fork in her mouth. “I thought about it.”
“So, why didn’t you?”
“I don’t know. I do miss my old life. My freedom. The idea of being in Tallis’s clutches scares me witless… But it was fun today out with you. I certainly couldn’t have afforded this over in California. I don’t know… This whole situation is so weird…”
“Well, if I were you, I’d play against William’s hatred for Tallis. We don’t normally house girls against their will, you know. They come willingly and leave when they please.” Alicia fixed her with a look. “You could curry his favor…”
“What, be his slave, instead?”
“No…convince him to let you go. Duh.”
“Why are you telling me this?” Catherine asked suspiciously.
“I’ll side with any female over a man any day. I’d let you go right now, except I don’t think you’re done learning from us, yet.”
“Learning what?”
“That’s for you to figure out.”
****
Bags and boxes were carried in by the servants in Alicia’s wake. “Bloody hell, Alicia, did you buy out all of sodding London in one day?”
“A new wardrobe can hardly be built in a day, William, though we did come close.”
“Where is Catherine, anyway? You didn’t lose her…”
“No, I didn’t lose her! I told her to wait outside to make her entrance once the boys finish carrying everything in.”
“Alicia… How’d she do?”
She paused on the stairs. “They swallowed it hook, line, and sinker. She’s a natural.”
Catherine came through the front door as Alicia disappeared upstairs. William turned toward the sound of her footsteps. “Hi,” she said shyly, wiggling her fingers to wave.
Her hair was in glossy waves instead of a French braid, and she wore snug jeans with a violet scoopneck sweater instead of the usual baggy attire. A knee-length black wool coat topped the ensemble. It was the first time she really felt like an adult.
