Russian Roulette (Helena Hawthorn Series Book 1)

by May Freighter

  “Bring in the food,” he shouted to nowhere in particular.

  The sudden outburst of noise from him made her sink deeper into her seat. Maybe, if she became insignificant enough, he would lose interest in her and send her back to Vincent.

  A group of servants rushed in with plates and drinks through a door disguised in the wall she hadn’t noticed till now. The plate that was lowered in front of her had medium-rare steak at the centre of it, decorated with a few mint leaves on the side. She wrinkled her nose and pushed it away.

  “Don’t like the food?” Andreaz studied her, holding a glass of crimson liquid in his hand.

  “I’m not hungry…”

  Something cool brushed her thigh. She jumped in her seat and shifted her legs away. When his hand came into view, she jerked into an upright position and took a step away from the table.

  “What are you doing?” she shrieked.

  Andreaz’s smile dwindled and his brown eyes lit with an orange glow that had her heart halt for a beat.

  She grasped the back of the chair for support as his vampiric energy filled the room. Way to go, Helena.

  He rose to his full height, which was an inch taller than her, and slammed his hands against the table surface, making the dishes dance. His glare pierced down to her soul. “You dare insult me?”

  She slowly retreated, praying for something, anything that would take his attention off her.

  Andreaz closed the distance she so desperately tried to create between them in less than a second. Her back crashed against the far wall, knocking the air out of her lungs. The glass in the window gave a faint quiver in its frame.

  She gasped for air while her eyes adjusted and her brain attempted to process the events.

  Andreaz moved his face, his lips hovering next to hers.

  Helena wanted to scream, yet what escaped her was a whimper. She concentrated on her breathing instead. Something was wrong. She looked down to find his hand clamped around her neck, his bony fingers biting into her throat.

  “And here I was treating you like Vincent would. I guess my old methods are better after all,” he said, pressing harder into her flesh.

  “It…hurts.”

  Andreaz loosened his grip. His other hand climbed up her thigh. That was not all she could feel. His energy had swarmed her shields. She wouldn’t be able to hold out much longer.

  “Let us get acquainted on a more personal level,” he whispered into her ear, and his tongue left a wet trail down her neck.

  She shut her eyes, concentrating on the shields. They shook under the pressure of his energy. She wasn’t strong enough to hold him off for long. The fact that he was running his hands over her body did not help her in the slightest. So, she reached out to Lucious through the link.

  “Help me, Lucious.”

  Andreaz’s hand slipped away from her throat and slid between the folds of her dress. As if her heart wasn’t beating fast enough, it forced her pulse to soar.

  “What’s wrong, my dear?” Lucious asked.

  Never in her lifetime did she think his voice would become her solace.

  “Andreaz is trying to break through.” She didn’t care if her voice was panicked. She needed his help. To her dismay, he didn’t reply.

  Andreaz lifted her dress at a slow, measured pace. Even when she pushed at his chest, and punched it a few times, there was no effect. It seemed to excite him…

  The vampire drew closer, trapping her hands against his chest. No matter how hard she pushed, he wouldn’t budge. It was like trying to fight against an immovable object.

  The link buzzed with Lucious’ energy, and she allowed it to enter her. Unlike a vampire’s touch, it was warm and soothing. It roamed her body, wishing to be used.

  Helena concentrated on her shields. She visualised more layers of steel and, with Lucious’ energy, was able to create them.

  Andreaz stopped her torment and took a step back.

  When she opened her eyes, she remained trapped between him and the wall. He watched her intently. “I see that good old Vincent lied.” He grinned like a Cheshire cat.

  Helena had no idea what he was talking about.

  The main door burst open, and Hannah appeared. She stopped in her tracks, bowing her head. “Master, I’m sorry to intrude on your meal.”

  Tearing his gaze away from Helena, he spoke low. “This better be important, Hannah.”

  “A call came from Lady Eliza. She wishes to speak with you in person.”

  Helena noticed the strain in Hannah’s voice. Is she also scared of him?

  “This one is my choice for when I return. Keep an eye on her,” he ordered.

  Once he left the room with inhuman speed, Helena’s legs could no longer support her weight. She slid to the ground. Her whole body was shaking.

  The dress spilt around her on the stone floor and hot tears wet her cheeks. She didn’t bother wiping them away. She was tired and weak.

  How am I supposed to get out of this?

  20

  All Alone

  The spray of hot water beat against her aching back. The clear liquid swirled and exited through the drain between her feet. If she could melt and disappear in the same way, it would be great.

  Her forehead had become numb from the cold of the porcelain tile it rested against. A life she once had was taken from her and replaced with endless horrors. She bit her lower lip hard enough for it to sting when her canine pierced the surface. She kept feeling his hands on her thigh, her stomach, and her breasts. Her mind ran in an endless loop, trying to torment itself into madness. She sucked in deep breaths to push the sick sensation away.

  The nausea subsided, and she ran her sponge for the tenth time over her body. Her skin screamed from the rough treatment she had put it through.

  The sponge slid out of her hand. It fell lifelessly at her feet and absorbed more water.

  Helena shifted her head to the left. Light of the day had already cleansed the room of the night. Her fingers peeled away strands of wet hair clinging to her face. She was back in the second house. After the incident with Andreaz, Hannah brought her here. Not many words were exchanged other than a command or two which were barked in her direction. Her limbs moved without her telling them to. She trudged past the curious eyes and whispers of others until she arrived in the bathroom.

  What if I end my life here? Would things get worse? The easy way out would deprive Lucious of his life. Do I even care anymore?

  “Helena?” Michael’s voice reached her through the blue veil of the shower curtain.

  She grabbed for the plastic curtain, but her fingers were unable to catch it properly. She gave up her effort and let her hands fall to her sides.

  “What is it?” she whispered.

  Through the thin plastic, she could make out Michael’s silhouette. He ran his hand through his golden mane. “How are you doing?”

  A tiny flame inside of her sparked to life. She pushed away from the wall and jerked back the curtain, not caring whether he would see her naked.

  “Look at me, Michael!” She pointed to the red patches and scratches on her skin. “I can’t do this anymore. His touch, i-it plagues me every time I close my eyes. No matter how hard I’ve scrubbed, it doesn’t—no—won’t go away.”

  Helena clung to what little control she had left to prevent the tears from reaching her eyes. She couldn’t fall apart here. Not yet. Perhaps Michael came here to tell her that he had found a way out for her.

  He lifted his pained eyes to meet hers, and she knew it was futile.

  “I’m sorry, Helena. You know I cannot interfere.”

  She crumpled the shower curtain in her hand. “Why not? Aren’t you supposed to look after me? Damn it, Michael. If not now when can you help me?”

  “I will never be allowed to help you. That is my punishment.”

  “What’ll happen to me if I stay here?”

  His silence was enough. You will die, echoed in her mind, but not before she was broken
.

  They stood there in silence. Neither wished to be the first to say what was on the tip of the tongue. The metal rings of the curtain clinked against the pole, and her hands shook with silent fury.

  “Leave,” she whispered.

  Without a word of complaint, he vanished from the room. Her thoughts were drowned out by the hiss of the falling water.

  Helena turned off the shower and stepped out of the bathtub. She wrapped a towel around her body. Taking a moment, she cleared the steam off the mirror to see the mark Lazarus left on her. It was as Lucious had described it, a black nasturtium flower embedded on her skin like some kind of brand or a tattoo. It spanned across most of her right shoulder blade. If she didn’t know what it was, she would think it was almost beautiful.

  A sad smile played on her lips. Her mother would kill her if she saw it. It took months to convince her mum to allow for her ears to be pierced. Getting a tattoo without permission would warrant daily lectures about hygiene and possible diseases that could come from such places.

  “I miss you, Mum,” she admitted, watching the steam distort her reflection. She let it.

  Helena towelled off. She found nothing she could wear, and the last piece of clothing she possessed was in a metal bin under the sink. Wrapped in a fluffy towel, she sneaked back to her room. On top of her bed rested her stacked set of clothes from last night.

  “I kept them safe for you,” Viola’s soft purr made Helena jump as she silently crept up on her.

  She whirled on the spot, clutching the towel to her chest with both hands. “T-thank you.”

  Viola gave her a brief once-over. “You look better.”

  She backed away until her legs touched the frame of her bed. Goosebumps consumed her skin. “What do you mean?”

  “You were distraught when you returned. We have never seen anyone like that after meeting with Master.”

  Because you were brainwashed, she thought and quickly donned her clothes on.

  Viola pointed at Helena’s bed. “May I have a seat?”

  With a nod from Helena, the woman settled onto the rough mattress. Her manicured hand patted the spot next to her in an inviting manner. “Do you want to talk about last night?”

  Helena’s lips twitched. She didn’t want to talk. She wanted to forget those horrid memories. And, the only way to do that was by giving Andreaz what he wanted. “No, I don’t.”

  Viola placed her warm hand on Helena’s and intertwined their fingers. “We are a family here. You should accept your role as Master’s favourite and enjoy yourself. Once he grows tired of you, you can do as you please.”

  Helena jerked her hand away. This woman was telling her to do what exactly, to play a happy little family with them? “I am not planning on continuing his demented game!”

  “Master will not be pleased with your behaviour.”

  “I don’t give a damn about what Andreaz thinks!” she screamed, her outrage heating her up from within.

  “I guess you still need time to accept this.” Viola stood and tucked her loose strands of hair behind her ear. “When you wish to talk, I will be here.”

  The second Viola left the room, Helena jumped off the bed and began pacing. She rubbed her hands together. There has to be a way out of this prison. She glanced out the window. The sun was preparing to turn in for the night.

  Vampires couldn’t go out in direct sunlight. She rushed over to the window. Placing her hands on the dusty windowsill, she peered through the glass. The dust rose up, tickling her nose until the sensation was too much to bear, and she sneezed.

  Helena brushed away her damp hair with her fingers. Patches of snow capped the mountains in the distance. They had a handful of cosy houses decorating their base. The gap between the mansions and safety was as bare as a stone. Exactly as she had remembered, there was nothing taller than two feet between her and civilisation.

  She tapped her lips with her index finger. Her heart thumped with excitement and possibilities that flooded her psyche. If she found a way out of the house, she could make it to those houses and call for help. The police could get them and keep her and her parents safe. If she had to, she would prove what Andreaz was to the whole world.

  Helena’s body tensed. Hannah strolled around the perimeter of the house, bathed in the late afternoon sun. Her movements resembled a military march more than a leisurely walk of a woman.

  How? Lucious told her vampires couldn’t go out in direct sunlight, and Hannah had the strength and the mental powers of one.

  She shrank away from the window while her plans of escape shattered. A headache she hadn’t noticed previously had made itself known, and she swayed on the spot. She grasped the windowsill for support.

  In that moment, a knock sounded against her shields. The energy behind it gave away the identity of the intruder. She sat on the carpet and closed her eyes, visualising her shields. Once she was standing on the chequered floor, she let Lucious in.

  Today’s encounters all ended in a quarrel, so she didn’t bother putting on a smile to greet him.

  His blue-brown eyes found her, and he closed the distance between them fast enough to make her catch her breath.

  “What happened?” He searched her body with his eyes for anything that could provide him with an answer.

  She gave him a strained half-smile. Her lips refused to move into a more cheerful position. As he reached to touch her, she flinched.

  “Don’t,” she whispered.

  He ignored her request and pulled her into his arms. Her hands pressed against his chest, taking note that there was no heartbeat. Somehow, that didn’t matter to her anymore. Her worries were slipping away in his inflexible embrace.

  Lucious drew back. “Tell me.”

  Helena pushed at his chest, untangling from him. He didn’t struggle, and her terrible memories from the previous night re-emerged. Mere hours were not enough time to forget the humiliation and powerlessness she had suffered.

  “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  “If you don’t wish to speak of what happened, I won’t ask again, but I must know if you will last until the trial. I will figure out a way for the Council to take back their claim and put you somewhere.”

  Her eye twitched. “Put me somewhere?” She couldn’t hold back any longer and slapped him across the face.

  He glared at her. “Until this bond is broken, yes. I will keep you safe, even if it means locking you up.”

  Her mouth fell open as she stared at him in disbelief.

  “Helena, it has not been easy.”

  “You think it’s been easy for me? The things I’ve been through these past few weeks should never happen to a normal person.” She let out a curse. “I have been kidnapped, tortured, bitten, possessed, and almost raped, and you are telling me that you are having problems.”

  Her shields hummed loud enough to hurt her head. She was losing the battle. How long would she last? No one seemed to be able to help her. Her hands covered her face, trying to block away the world, to keep her in the darkness that would take away her pain.

  Lucious’ fingers brushed her arm. She didn’t fight him as he enveloped her back into his firm hold.

  “You must stay strong,” he whispered in her ear.

  “Why? So you can exploit me? So you get to live another day?”

  They stood there in silence for what appeared to be an eternity.

  He unravelled his arms and looked at her. “I will give you my word. If we get out of this alive, I will not force you to do anything. For now, I must go. It’s getting late.”

  Rocks settled in the pit of her stomach, weighing it down. She would have to face Andreaz again. Her blood drained from her face, leaving behind a pale representation of a person behind.

  Lucious planted a soft kiss on her forehead. “I will find a way out for you.”

  As much as she wanted to believe him, her mind protested. She had been shown, again and again, she had no one to rely on. “Goodbye, Lucious.”
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  Without further ado, she gathered her energy and pushed him out of her shields. Satisfied that he was gone, she let her concentration crumble. She opened her eyes. The room had already been swallowed by the darkness in the absence of sunlight, but the time didn’t matter anymore. She had made her decision.

  An hour ticked by at a torturous pace. Her body tensed the instant she heard the front door being unlocked. The furore of excitement from downstairs was loud enough to wake a bear from his winter hibernation.

  Helena imagined everyone gathering at the entrance hall to find out who would be the next victim.

  Hannah said something. The noise died down, and someone’s heels clicked on the staircase as they made their way up. Soon, the door to her prison swung open.

  Until now, Helena had an hour to compose herself and appear calm, although, on the inside, her heart wanted to jump out of her ribcage with its frantic beating. She was in way over her head. She knew it as did everyone she used to put her faith in.

  “You are being summoned. Get ready,” Hannah barked and stepped into the room. She tossed a black plastic bag along with a small shoebox—that somehow remained closed—by Helena’s feet. “Hurry up. I’ll wait outside.”

  Hannah closed the door, leaving Helena to stare at the presents left by Andreaz’s servant. She slid off the bed and crouched over them. With a prolonged sigh, she unravelled the plastic to find another cream gown with a low décolletage.

  Her lips pressed into a thin line as she put it on. She shivered, realising the dress had no back, and a knot formed at the back of her throat. There was no way she could overpower Andreaz. If she let him brainwash her, she would become like Viola and be happy with anything he does to her.

  A tear escaped her, and the door clicked opened again.

  “I’m not done yet,” Helena said in a shaky voice.

  “I’m here to do your make-up, ma chérie,” Viola chirped.

  Hearing Viola’s soft voice made Helena turn to face her.

  The woman motioned for her to take a seat on the nearest bed.