by ERIN BEDFORD
“Marsha,” I tried again, grabbing at his shoulders. “You should sit down before you hurt yourself.”
“Oh,” he chuckled, “I already did that.” He finally sat down for me to see his neck. “Like, I said, I was talking to Tris and we were having a great time. Someone yelled out to me and then I must have tripped or something because I was on the floor and my neck was bleeding.”
I saw now what he talked about. A small cut, not much bigger than the one on my lip lay across his neck. It still bled slightly if prodded at but it wasn’t too deep. Relief fell over me as I realized he’d be okay but then just as fast, realization settled in.
Tris, a short plump woman with dark multi-toned hair and bright green eyes, had been the other one who would pick a convert. The wound on Marsha’s neck wasn’t just from an accident. No, it would be too much of a coincidence. She must have done it to him as her way of marking him.
“Marsha,” I said, a seriousness in my tone. “We have to get out of here.”
“What?” Marsha looked up at me his eyes dopey. “Why? Aren’t you having fun?”
“No, I’m not.” I shook my head. “And neither are you. We’re in danger.”
“You don’t know what you are talking about.” Marsha shook his head and then smiled. “I know what we can do. Let’s go on that date we talked about. Right now.” He stood to his feet, a bit wobbly but he stayed upright. “We can go raid the kitchen and then eat while we watch the stars. Doesn’t that sound like fun?”
“Yes,” I answered, trying to keep him with me. “But wouldn’t that be more fun back home? In the Inner Circle?”
It was on the tip of my tongue to tell him what I’d found out, but it was too bizarre even for me. There was no such thing as vampires. They were just something people made up to scare little kids. Besides, the ones I’d heard about couldn’t stand the daylight and I’d seen Patrick in the sun.
Hadn’t I?
I suddenly couldn’t remember a time I’d seen him outside when it wasn’t dark. We’d done the initial interviews and such inside and the curtains had been drawn then. The parties themselves were at night, with no chance of being hit by the sun.
The more I tried to rationalize it the more it started to make sense. The man I’d been talking to—the one whose attention I’d been vying for—wasn’t human at all. Not really. If the stories were true, he was little more than the walking dead, and he wanted to make me one of them.
Over my dead body. Which sadly might actually be the case.
Chapter 19
I helped Marsha back to his room because he couldn’t be trusted to walk a straight line let alone find his way on his own. He still wasn’t acting like himself and I hoped it was because of alcohol and not whatever Tris had done to him.
After Marsha passed out in his room, I started the long trek back to mine. I hadn’t told him what I found out. Not only because he wasn’t coherent enough to listen but because I didn’t know if he would believe me. Hell, I didn’t believe it even though I’d read it myself.
I had the book from the library tucked under my arm. I wasn’t about to let it out of my sight anytime soon. Plus, there had to be more information in there I could use to get out of this marking thing—if what Patrick had done had been marking me.
I half expected Patrick to be waiting for me in my bedroom but to my surprise, it was Asher who stood at my door. I slowly approached him, hoping he wouldn’t see where I had accidentally torn the hem of his beautiful dress. I moved the book into my hand, hiding it inside the full skirt but he wasn’t paying any mind to it.
“Clara.” He sighed, relief on his face. “I heard you ran out of the party. Again.” He gave me a chastising look before adding, “I thought maybe something had happened.”
“What?” I cocked my hip to the side and glared at him. “Like finding out you’re Patrick’s cousin? Or that he’s a vampire?”
Asher’s eyes widened and then darted around the hallway. When no one came running—or whatever is it that he’d expected to happen—he ushered me into my room. I tried to talk again but he pressed his finger to his lips in a shushing motion. Leaving me standing in the middle of the room he darted around, checking light shades and even the mirror before turning back to me.
“So, but I had to be sure they hadn’t put monitors in your room.”
“Monitors?” I asked, glancing around for whatever he was talking about.
“Recording devices. Sometimes if they think someone isn’t trustworthy—even a guest—they’ll put them around their bedroom to find out what they are thinking. Luckily, I think you are good,” Asher said but the look on his face wasn’t relief. It was worry.
“Okay, so what now?” I sighed, sitting down on the edge of my bed. I made sure to tuck the book under me so he couldn’t see it. I’d trusted Asher up until this point but after everything I’d learned tonight I wasn’t sure that was still a good idea.
“You tell me everything,” Asher said, sitting by my side.
So, I did. I told him about Patrick showing up at the bottom of the stairs. How he had told me they were cousins and then how Zara had shown up to ruin it all. I skipped the bit with Marsha and me. That was private and not relevant at all to what I wanted to know. Patrick’s and my conversation was a bit trickier because it all jumbled together under the pressure of hormones. I did get across a clear picture of what Patrick looked like after I’d nicked myself on his teeth, which I explained fully.
“And that’s all?” Asher asked, prodding for more information as if he knew I was keeping something back.
“That’s it,” I promised as I sat harder on the book beneath me.
Asher kept quiet for a few moments before he asked, “What makes you think he’s a vampire then, and not just an aggressive kisser? There are plenty of people who love a good nibble every once in a while.”
I flushed and stared down at the ground. Talking about people’s preferences wasn’t something I was used to, and doing so with Asher made it even worse. Finally, when I could look him in the eye again, I said, “I’m not stupid, Asher.”
“I never said you were,” he said, patting my hand as if I were a child. That pissed me off. “But you can’t jump to conclusions like that—not here. You walk a fine line as it is and if we want you to be chosen then-”
“But I have been!” I jumped to my feet forgetting for a moment that the book was under me. It slid to the ground with a loud thump, but before I could reach for it Asher scooped it up.
“What’s this?” His eyes widened as they landed on the title and then he thumbed through it with an increasing amount of shock.
“See,” I said coming up close to him, “I know all about the converts. It says it right there in the book. He marked me and I think Tris marked Marsha.” I left out the bit that she had also slipped him something. I’d figure out what to do about that later.
“That liar,” Asher growled, clutching the book in his hand.
“Okay, not the reaction I expected but better than nothing.” I reached for the book but Asher jerked it out of the way. “Hey, give it back. You know what I said was true. That’s mine. I’m going to need it if I’m going to get out of this mess.”
Asher threw his hands up in the air with a dramatic cry. “Fine, you’re right. Patrick’s a vampire. The whole stinking Crimson Fold are vampires. For crying out loud, I’m one!”
I gaped at Asher admission and took a few steps back from him. My movement caused him to drop his arms and frown.
“Don’t look at me like that,” he almost whimpered. “I’m not going to hurt you. Besides, you’re not my type.” He smirked and for a second I almost believed him.
And then the anger came. “You knew this whole time and didn’t say anything?” I pointed a finger at him, my voice rising with each word.
“Don’t look at me. It wasn’t my idea to lie about what we are. It’s theirs.” He gestured wildly with the book. “They’re all about secrecy to the point where the
y will convert someone and tell them there is no guide to help you with the transition. Blasted liars.” He scowled down at the book.
The reality of what was happening started to set in and I sank down to the floor. “So,” I said, my voice small. “How long have you been a vampire?”
Asher sat down next to me, letting his long legs stretch out before him. “Only about a century or two. That’s why Patrick and I are only distant cousins. He’s almost eight hundred years old.”
“Eight hundred?” I gaped at him. “What the crap! And I’m supposed to marry this guy?”
Asher gave me a pointed look. “Marry is a bit childish. Being a convert is forever. Literally. If you’d been a companion, then you might have been married.”
“Ah ha!” I wagged a finger at him. “I knew your companions weren’t just your helpers.”
The sponsor had the decency to blush. Could vampires even blush? Either way, his face did look like it had blood running through it. I put the thought away for another time. The mechanics of their physiology was too much for me to handle right then.
“My girls are my companions, yes, but I haven’t lain with any of them. We aren’t married, nor will we ever be.” The way he explained it held a hint of sadness to it and I wished he’d tell me more. But I didn’t dare to ask.
“So, is there any way out of this?” I asked, bumping my hand against the book.
“Not that I know of.” He sighed and leaned back against the bed. “Take heart in knowing they won’t convert you right away. There is a whole process. Your family must get used to being without you, so they don’t start to ask questions. Then there’s the whole re-education process where they are supposed to start making you think you want to be converted.”
“But I already know about it.”
“Ah, but they don’t know that. They will flower you with gifts and praises making you think you are welcome in their world so that you will do anything they ask of you. Then,” he held his finger up with a sense of finality, “then you will be turned before you even realize it is happening.”
I snorted. “That seems hard to believe. I think I would notice all my blood being drained from me.”
“You’d be surprised,” Asher muttered. “Though some make their converts so in love with them, they want nothing else than to be with them forever. Which I feel is what Patrick would have done with you had you not figured it out.”
“I don’t believe in love,” I stated, wrapping my arms around my legs. “There’s love for a family member—a child—but not for each other. No one cares that much and those who do always want something.”
“What a sad existence that must be.” Asher made a small sound in his throat, as though he might cry before his hand stroked my tousled hair. I forced myself not to flinch at his touch, reminding myself he had done so more intimately during the last few days.
My existence might be sad to Asher but it had kept me alive. I had loved my mother very much but she’d died leaving a huge hole in me. I loved my father as well but I knew eventually he too would die. If I became immortal—a vampire—then everyone I know, anyone I’d ever care about, would eventually die. No. Loving someone would never be in my cards. Not in this lifetime.
Chapter 20
It was the final morning, the last day I would see the scoreboard in my room before they moved me to another suite. At least, that was what Asher told me.
There would be an announcement ceremony where everyone would come together and congratulate me on my position. While that was happening, all my belongings would be moved to a new room. One close to Patrick. Asher said after a few days I’d be allowed to go back to the Inner Circle to get any sentimental belongs, but for the most part everything will be provided for me.
Since it was my last day, I didn’t rush to get up. I lay there in my bed, staring up at the ceiling. Maybe if I stayed there they’d forget about me.
Just as I had the thought, a knock sounded on my door. Before I could tell them to go away, a white head of hair peeked in. Venna.
“Hello, dear.” She smiled at me as she pushed the door open with her hip. Carrying a tray through the doorway, she entered but didn’t place it on the table the way all the others had. Instead, she brought it to me in bed. I sat up onto the array of pillows and let her prop the tray on my lap.
“Thank you,” I said, looking down at the delicious food. There were fruits and cheeses as usual but also large fluffy cakes and sausage. After yesterday the very sight of it made me sick to my stomach.
The disgust I felt must have shown on my face because Venna sat beside me with a worried look. “Do you not like it? I could go get something else.”
She stood to leave but I stopped her with my hand. “No, this is fine. Just not in the food kind of mood.”
She gave me a small, understanding smile. “I understand. I’d be overwhelmed in your position as well. You’ve got the highest position there is! It’s all anyone could talk about.”
Great, I said to myself but then smiled at her. “Yes, exactly. Just nervous.”
“Well, don’t be.” She patted me on the arm and then moved over to the screen when it turned on while were talking. “You were a shoe-in to begin with, besides all the mishaps that occurred.” She made a displeased noise as she stared at the screen.
“What is it?” I asked from my place in bed. Though I wasn’t hungry I picked up a piece of sausage and bit into it. The juices filled my mouth and suddenly I became ravenous.
“See, you just needed to get started,” Venna said and then frowned. “I’m surprised that Zara girl wasn’t one of the two who was sent home.”
“She wasn’t?” I asked, almost choking on my food. I coughed and hit my chest to get the piece out.
“Sadly, no.” Venna shook her head. “She’s going to be Beaford’s companion.”
Beaford. The very sound of his name made my fist close around the bread in my hand, crumbling it to pieces. I should have known he would choose her.
To Venna, I said, “I’m sure they will be very happy together.” In a shallow grave, I added silently.
Venna gave a curt nod. “At least, your friend Violet got a good one. Maleria has always been one of my favorite of the fold. She’s very kind to the staff and has the most beautiful singing voice.”
I still hadn’t met Maleria but took Venna’s word for it. I suddenly wanted to ask her if she knew they were all vampires, but I refrained. If they all knew, then it would hardly be a secret. It would be leaked to the rest of Alban within hours.
So, instead of asking what I really wanted, I asked, “What about Marsha?”
“Oh,” she smiled slyly. “He’s as lucky as you and got his own member to convert for.”
I knew it. The nick on his neck had been Tris marking him. So much for my he-had-an-accident theory. Unfortunately, he didn’t know anything about marking, or what we were in for. I had to find time to get him alone so I could fill him in. Maybe if there were two of us we’d have more of a chance to get out of here. Though, the way he had acted last night didn’t give me high hopes. Marsha seemed to take everything at face value and would no doubt think their gifts and praises were their way of showing him kindness.
I wasn’t so fooled.
With a new-found determination, I moved the tray out of my lap and jumped from the bed. I found the outfit Asher had laid out for me to wear today. Thankfully, no dresses lay beneath. Instead, I found a dark charcoal pantsuit with a red shirt beneath. A pair of half-inch wedges sat below that I slipped into after I dressed. I let my hair roll freely down my back, the updo from last night causing it to fall in waves.
I’d washed all the makeup off my face before going to bed but Asher had left me specific instructions on how to apply what he had left for me. A bright red lipstick to match the shirt and a pale eyeshadow for my eyes. I tried to line my lids but failed so many times I about gave up before Venna came to the rescue.
“I used to do my sister’s makeup all the tim
e back in the Inner Circle,” she commented as she applied the pen to my eyelids.
“What happened to her?” I asked, suddenly wanting to know more about her.
“Oh,” she sighed, “she’s still there. She sends me cards and pictures of her children. I go visit once every few years but it’s hard to get away, you know?” She smiled at me—a sad sort of smile—so I simply nodded.
“There, you’re ready.” Venna stepped back and let me look at myself.
Compared to all the other nights, this time I looked more like me. A fierce and determined me, but me nonetheless. At least I wouldn’t be going into this pretending to be someone I’m not.
“Thank you.” I hugged her briefly. She giggled, then squeezed me back.
When we were finished, Venna led me down a hallway and toward the room we’d had our interviews in. People were already piled in the doors, chatting away excitedly. I searched for Marsha but couldn’t find him. Violet stood next to the Fold member she’d be companion too. Maleria. Long hair that reached her backside, she wore a dress that seemed to float around her. Those around her seemed happy which gave me hope that Violet would be okay.
Now, if only I would be.
I started to move through the room, determined to find Marsha and explain to him what was going on but someone caught me by the elbow. Turning around, I froze in place at the sight of Patrick holding me. I swallowed hard and pushed down the fear that told me to run.
He smiled down at me but even I could see it was fake. Then without warning, he brought me into his arms. He smelled of flowers and sandalwood, a heady smell that made my nose tickle.
“Please, don’t scream,” he whispered in my ear. “I will explain everything after but for now we have to put on a show for them. Make them see we are the happy couple they all think we are. Remember, you have the power to make a difference.”
“I won’t be turned into a vampire,” I blurted out a bit louder than I meant, causing a few people to look our way. At least the cameras were too busy focusing on the others to notice us yet.
