The Vampire's Doll (The Heiress and the Vampire Book 1)

by Jaclyn Dolamore

  That’s my entire world, Parsons thought. Just a tiny speck of this planet.

  Els slipped down to join her hair first, her long braids dangling before her feet appeared. Parsons rarely saw Els’ feet bare; the Halnari were never supposed to show them off because they lost all the allure they supposedly had in their narrow slippers. The two smallest toes were shape-shifted away, and the three toes that remained were slightly elongated so the overall effect was of a graceful tapering point.

  “It feels nice, doesn’t it?” Els said, taking a deep breath of the ocean air.

  “It does,” Parsons admitted.

  “That’s the point,” Els said. “To feel the breeze down to your bones.”

  She pinned her braids up into double loops and took Parsons’ hand. “Let’s go to the beach.”

  “Not too close.”

  “I won’t let you get wet!”

  They clambered around on the rocks, both moving slowly, Els because of her feet and Parsons because Fanarlem weren’t as strong or as coordinated as flesh and blood people even at their best. But they had an innate understanding of each other’s weaknesses, when to slow down and when to offer a hand.

  “I’m afraid I’m getting dirty,” Parsons said. “I should be more careful with my skin. If this is supposed to make me more attractive to Dennis…”

  “Well, it’s not,” Els said. “I have loftier goals than that. It’s supposed to make you feel alive and confident.”

  When they reached the bed of rocks near the shore, Els took an array of sweets from her satchel. They ate and talked, bare arms looped around their knees, and Parsons actually did feel alive and confident enough that she sprawled out on the warm rock. They had such a good time that Parsons wondered how late they’d get home.

  In the midst of this, Parsons spotted movement in the distance out of the corner of her eye.

  “Who’s that?” She quickly rolled from her back to her stomach and shimmied down the back of the rock where she could hide, tugging on Els to do the same.

  It was, of all people, Calban, in a short cape and pants tucked into boots. And the Miralem fortune teller, with her robes, her staff leading her steps along the shore.

  “Isn’t that—?” Els looked at her, and Parsons nodded.

  “Why is he talking to her?” Parsons asked. “If he knows her, she could tell him…”

  “All the fortunes…”

  “But they’re a bunch of nonsense anyway,” Parsons said, scrambling to remember if she had said anything incriminating to the fortune teller. Surely not. She denied everything and even stood up for the Wodrenarune.

  “Maybe he wants to know how people react to their fortunes?” Els asked. “Or maybe he just wants his fortune? In private?” Her eyes darted around. “Let’s get closer. We could crawl around these rocks and then come up behind that rock.”

  “If Calban catches me in a bathing suit…”

  “But aren’t you desperately curious to know what she’s telling him?”

  “All right.”

  Keeping low, they hurried around the rocks in a strategic way. Luckily, Calban and the fortune teller were staying put, and with the sound of the wind coming off the sea, they were unlikely to hear the occasional “ow” from Parsons and Els. Parsons accidentally stepped between rocks into a tide pool, hastily shaking water from her foot before any seeped between the seams.

  “I’ll try to cloak us with my telepathy, just in case,” Els said, as they reached the back of the large rock.

  “Shh,” Parsons hissed, because they could hear Calban’s voice now. He was a loud talker.

  She wasn’t sure who he was talking about, at first. Someone she didn’t know at all, a female sorceress.

  “Who else am I forgetting?” he continued. “Who comes here a lot?”

  The fortune teller said a name.

  “Oh, yes. Poron’s wife. Just as I suspected, that marriage isn’t going very well, but don’t say that. Tell her she should have some babies. That’ll keep her busy. And you could say some money is coming her way, because I’m giving him a raise. Might put a bandage on the problem.”

  “Ick,” Els whispered.

  “He’s telling her what fortunes to give people?” It was killing Parsons to stay hidden behind the rock where she couldn’t see his face.

  Els put a hand over her mouth. “Do you think that’s why she approached you?”

  “But she told me to be with Dennis. And not to listen to an authority figure in my life. I thought she meant Calban, but maybe Calban wants me to not listen to my father. Does that mean…he wants me to be with Dennis…romantically?”

  Calban and the fortune teller were walking closer, and Parsons fell silent again. She could hear them both now, as he rattled off a few more names and what direction she should steer their lives in.

  “More on the list every day,” she observed, sounding arch. “You really enjoy playing every little piece on the game board.”

  “The less left to chance and whim, the better,” Calban said. “And yet, people still surprise me all the time.”

  It’s so clever of him, Parsons thought, feeling incredibly stupid that she had ever listened to the woman. We all want to believe in fortunes… But I knew all along it wasn’t true.

  “Parsons?” Calban said, and she glanced around, grabbing her stomach in terror. But no, he hadn’t seen her. The fortune teller must have inquired about her, because he continued, “She’s behaving exactly according to plan. I think she was smitten from the first day. The vampire is more reluctant; of course, he’s not familiar with Fanarlem, but his bloodlust and his regular lust are tied up together and the hungrier he is, the better she’ll look. She’s the only girl he sees much. If she brings him here, you should pull him aside and tell him his feelings for her are real and should be acted upon.”

  “I don’t see her around as much these days,” the fortune teller said.

  “She wants to be near him, I’ll bet.” Calban sounded pleased with himself. “Two lonely souls.”

  Els moved her lips in a silent “ohhhh” as Parsons’ mouth snapped open. She wanted to scream.

  “You toy with those young people,” the fortune teller said.

  Calban didn’t reply. Parsons imagined his light-hearted shrug as a likely response.

  “If that’s all, I’ll have my coins now,” the fortune teller said.

  “Coins.” Calban sounded amused. Money clinked.

  “I hope the Wodrenarune is well,” she said.

  “Don’t push your luck.” His voice had a sudden edge. “Go back to your tent.”

  Parsons was terrified to move. She watched Els’ chest rise and fall with her breath and prayed that her friend wasn’t struck with a sudden need to cough or sneeze. It was hard to hear if Calban was walking away over the sound of wind and waves; his steps weren’t as loud as his voice.

  Els looked at her worriedly, then put her finger to her lips. As if Parsons intended to speak!

  “He’s walking away,” Els whispered. “I sense him.”

  “Oh, dear, be careful. You’re not a very good telepath. I wouldn’t put it past him to sense you back.” Parsons wasn’t sure why she was suddenly scared of Calban. She ought to be angry, not scared. Had he manipulated her very feelings? Or was he just excellent at predicting how people would react?

  Els finally glanced around the rock and then breathed a sigh of relief. “That was a lucky coincidence,” she said.

  “Lucky?” Parsons cried. “I think I would rather not know that Calban hires the fortune teller at Wonderland to manipulate people’s thoughts.” She covered her mouth. “He wants me to fall in love with Dennis? And—oh, cruel fates, he’s been—” She could hardly say it. He’s been denying Dennis blood to provoke him into sexual attraction for me?

  She picked up a rock and started pounding it into the larger rock like a hammer. “That bastard! Damnit…”

  “I’m glad you finally realized,” Els said. “Although I’ll admit,
that’s more diabolical than I imagined.”

  “You don’t know the half of it.” Parsons was on the edge of tears now. “He starved Dennis and made him kill someone, before. Why would he do this to us? He was my mother’s friend! Els, I would never have trusted him as much as I did, except…he was always there for me and Papa. I wish I could ask her about it. I mean, was he always like this? Did she know?”

  Els leaned against the rock, tugging on her braids. “I don’t understand why he cares whether or not you and Dennis like each other.”

  “I think I do.” Parsons pushed forcefully away from the rock and started heading back. Running around half-naked in the moonlight had lost its luster. “Dennis wants to go home to America, and Calban wants to give him a reason to stay here so he can study him. All that really matters is that I’m safe for Dennis to be around and Calban wants me to have a loyalty band. I’ve played right into his hands.”

  “But you really do like Dennis.”

  “Yes. And if he ever returned my feelings, I’d simply trap him here forever, surrounded by people who have tormented him. He’ll never be able to see his home and family again. And eventually, he’s going to resent me. I should really…if I loved him…I should try to help him go home.”

  “To America? But—Parsons…” She looked at Parsons with her eyes wide and concerned under the moonlight. Then she lowered her head. “I wanted this to be a magical evening.”

  “It was, while it lasted…and I’m glad you brought me here. It was obviously fated. I know what I need to do, now.”

  No, she couldn’t keep Dennis here. It was a trap. He had tried to tell her so. He had warned her about these people. Coming from another world, he saw the sham, and she didn’t want to listen. Because—then what?

  Now what?

  It wasn’t like she could leave, even if she wanted to. She couldn’t abandon Papa.

  For Dennis' own good and his own happiness, she had to find a way to send him home to America, where he belonged. And she knew the first place to look—if she could slip away from the courting dance.

  Chapter Thirteen

  The courting dances were held once a month all through the year, at the Palace of Blessed Wings. Invitations were never sent; anyone could come who wished to dance and was respected enough to make it past the palace guards. It was one of the primary places for young people to meet each other once they left school.

  Parsons dressed very demurely; so demurely that she knew Els would yell at her, and of course she did.

  “In the land of Parsons, it’s always winter,” Els sighed, regarding Parsons’ long black sleeves and thick stockings. The dress was all black at the bodice, with a sheer panel above the breast, one minimally flirtatious touch that didn’t show a single thing. The black sash was embroidered with green leaves, and the knee-length skirt was forest green velvet with a stiff petticoat underneath.

  Parsons topped it with a short cape of a reddish-brown velvet, and her black driving gloves, just to provoke Els.

  “Oh, no,” Els said. “Not capes and gloves too! How about a bonnet while you’re at it? You look like you’re starting your own cult.”

  Parsons laughed. “That’s a new one.”

  Papa kissed her goodbye and urged her to have fun. “Give it a chance.”

  Els was in good spirits, settling into the automobile. “I have a secret,” she said. “You won’t really like it, but I have to tell you.”

  Parsons clutched the wheel. “What’s that?”

  Els bit her lip, her smile uncharacteristically private and pleased. “Venn asked me to marry him.”

  “Oh—well, that’s—I mean, congratulations,” Parsons said.

  Els laughed. “You don’t have to pretend. I know that’s not how you are. I just want you to be the first to know, like it or not.”

  “Els…I do want you to be happy, of course. If Venn really makes you happy…” Parsons didn’t understand. Venn was…just a boy from school. He was nice and fine. She had known him for so long that she had memories of him dangling an earthworm over his mouth and pretending he was going to eat it. She was pretty sure he hadn’t actually eaten it, at least.

  “He does,” Els said. She looked a little sheepish. “That’s it.”

  “When are you going to get married?”

  “Autumn.”

  That sounded so soon.

  “Anyway, that just means I have more time to line you up with some nice dance partners.” She rattled off some names.

  Parsons had never wanted to talk or touch a man until Dennis, and now she had to spend the evening with the same boys who avoided her in school. Her shoulders slumped. “And I still have to dance with Mr. Samaron.”

  “Don’t worry. I’ll be right beside you. I’ll make the boys be nice.”

  “How flattering.”

  Els sighed. “When they were kids they weren’t used to Fanarlem; you know how kids are. But they’re more mature these days if you gave them a chance. It’s just that you don’t. Give me a chance to make them be nice, and you might find that they start to genuinely like you.”

  “Hrrmph.”

  Els surely had good intentions to watch over Parsons, but the boys were too distracting. Fifteen minutes after they passed through the gates, Els was surrounded by Venn and his friends Davren and Rodan—all three of them tall, funny, and attentive. Her dance card was already half full.

  These parties were not held in the grand ballroom of the palace, but in a smaller room with tall glass doors that opened to a balcony. On a fine summer night like this one, the guests spilled outside, looking over the gardens. Electric lighting was rejected in favor of lanterns strung from the inside to the outside, providing intimate lighting, the kind that made everyone look better.

  Parsons was counting down the minutes until it was appropriate to leave. No one approached her because she wasn’t normally approachable and didn’t usually dance, so why would they? She never ate so much as when she went to parties, lingering by the snack tables to look busy. She felt guilty about it too, sure that everyone was secretly wondering why a Fanarlem girl with no stomach kept eating all the food.

  Look at all these stupid girls in their Earth gowns; they can’t even dance in them. The fashion in Earth in recent years had been the “hobble skirt”, which was so tight down to the ankles that the wearer could only take small steps. Parsons knew from the fashion magazines that the hobble skirt was out in America and Paris and probably everywhere else, but her world was behind.

  Most girls in Nalim Ima didn’t really know how to wear Earth fashions, so they didn’t look a thing like the magazines. Daytime blouses and skirts were worn for the evening; girls clung to their elaborate looped braids even as they wore the Earth styles. Others still wore traditional clothing, long tunics with sashes and embroidery.

  Under soft lamplight, the wild mixture of outfits was rather enchanting. There must be at least a hundred people here, mingling in the soft light. Parsons hadn’t seen Mr. Samaron yet. But it was early.

  “Parsons?” Irik tapped her arm.

  Parsons turned, immediately displeased. “Oh…hello.”

  “Can I speak to you?” Irik looked vaguely anxious.

  “I really should be filling my dance card,” Parsons said dismissively. Irik was far too close to Calban.

  “It’s about the general,” Irik whispered. “I keep trying to talk to you. He’s gotten worse.”

  “Worse? Worse in what way?” Maybe there was something to this after all.

  “I heard you and your father are considering taking on loyalty bands,” Irik said.

  “He is,” Parsons said. The question gave her a wave of revulsion. “I’m…here instead. Looking for a husband, apparently.”

  “You look like you’re enjoying it, too. But then, what girl doesn’t enjoy being put up on the market?” Irik looked wry, before speaking more cautiously. “What is Calban doing with the vampire?”

  “Mr. Faraday? He’s been accompanying me to
work at product development. Why?” Parsons narrowed her eyes.

  “I’m worried,” Irik said. “Calban has not been his usual self lately. Or else, his usual self is not what I thought it was. You’ve known him a long time.”

  “What has he been doing?” Is there a reason he’s been acting so awful?

  “The other day, I came upon him in his study, and he told me to go away, but then he started talking to me and he was very forceful. Before I knew it, he was kissing me and then—he bit my tongue. He drew blood. He didn’t seem like himself at all. It took all I had not to turn into a leopard. At any other time, if he had hurt me, he would have been concerned and given me a healing potion, but instead he left me alone to tend to my own wounds,” Irik said. “I immediately thought of when Dennis bit me in the woods when we were trying to check on the prisoner. How does a person become a vampire?”

  “Dennis said it happened when another vampire drank his blood and then he drank theirs.” The courier is taking Dennis’ blood every morning…

  Like Lord Jherin and the rest of the Four Generals, Calban relied on anti-aging potions called Illustrious Blends, in order to look so perfectly young. It was easy to forget that Calban was a hundred and thirty years old himself. He was among the first wave of Daramons to benefit from the Ten Thousand Man Sacrifice and outlive the natural lifespan of a century or so, and he had rigidly maintained his youth with potions.

  The Miralem, who had always lived a little longer naturally, usually died by the century and a half mark. Lord Jherin had started withdrawing from the public around his one hundred and fiftieth birthday.

  Calban is always the one to test magic. What if the Blends were starting to fail? He would probably do anything to stay young…

  That would explain so much.

  Why he takes blood from Dennis.

  Why he wants Dennis to have a reason to stay here forever.

  And the fortune teller had asked Calban if Lord Jherin was well.

  Is he turning into a vampire?