by R. J. Blain
I hated that I represented so much, a rather undeserved position in my opinion. “And figuring out my dietary issues may help?”
“I suspect a great deal of magic went into your unlife, and if we can figure out how you awoke into your second life, we may be able to replicate it. It could be something as simple as stubborn pride, however. Most women selected by the bride broods in the past few years have been lacking in pride and ambition.”
“But they are still modern women,” Emerick pointed out. “And modern women do not appreciate cages, even the gilded ones the brides broods offer.”
“And when they are disclosed on the nature of being a bride, it is probable they chose death. I’ve been of that opinion for the past thirty or so years. Times have changed and we must change with them or we will die. Now, Miss Pepper, please permit me to hold your hand while you try a sip of the chicken’s blood. I will use one of my magical talents to catch glimpses of your body. You may feel as though someone is staring at you, or a faint tingling from within. It depends on how sensitive you are. Your maker’s blood may have awoken other gifts, too.”
I found it odd magic and the various things that could be done with magic were classified as gifts. Unlife wasn’t exactly a present I’d wanted. A few days hadn’t done much to convince me I wouldn’t have been better off just staying in my grave where I belonged. However, Giovanni had made a good point: I had stubborn pride and ambition to spare. With one hand, I grabbed the wretched bottle of chicken blood and offered him my other. “I’m not responsible if I make a mess. Again.”
At least magic existed that could remove bloodstains; in the time I’d been in the bathroom, the sitting room had been restored to its pristine condition.
Giovanni took my hand. Something in Emerick’s posture changed, and I raised an eyebrow at the tension in his body. “Relax over there, Mr. Moody. You asked him to torture me, remember?”
Emerick’s eyes narrowed. “I didn’t ask for him to torture you.”
“Oh, you did, just for the sake of diagnosis, which I generally agree with. I’m still not responsible for the fate of your rug, furniture, and whatever else may get sprayed with liquified poultry.”
Emerick leaned back in his chair. “Bottled blood isn’t precisely liquified poultry.”
“Vein juice.”
“I will never understand modern women,” he muttered.
“How do you want me to do this, doc?”
“Take a single small sip and swallow. I understand the taste is vile to you but treat it like you would a medicine.”
“If I were treating this like a medicine, I’d go bottoms up to make it over faster.”
“But then you would surely vomit, and that is not our goal. A sip and swallow,” the doctor instructed.
With a wrinkled nose, I obeyed. The instant the blood touched my tongue, my stomach churned, but I choked the vile brew down. My mouth watered, and I kept swallowing to keep from throwing up.
“One more.”
I could think of a lot of things I’d rather be doing, including mucking out an entire barn of cow shit, but I obeyed. My eyes watered, and I gagged despite taking the smallest sip possible. Somehow, I kept the damned blood down. If he asked for a third sip, I’d be running for the bathroom.
“Take the bottle into the bathroom, drink enough to induce vomiting, and get it out of your system,” Giovanni ordered. “I’ll bring you some water to help you flush the rest of it out, and if you haven’t ejected it all after that, I will provide something to induce vomiting. I have some other preparations to make while you do that.”
Great. I was likely classified as a disaster. Mustering as much dignity as I could under the circumstances, I took the bottle of chicken blood to the bathroom to do as the doctor ordered.
I would need at least a week to recover from the chicken blood. I guzzled two whole gallons of water, most of which I threw up to purge my stomach. I might need three or four weeks, and I swore I’d never agree to any tests involving blood ever again.
The second round of chicken blood, consumed in sips, went over even worse than the first round.
Once I had control of my stomach, I changed into clean clothes, retreated to Emerick’s bedroom, and hid under his blanket.
“Well, I see you’ve taught her your bed is a safe haven.”
“She decided she owns my bedroom and bathroom, and I haven’t been inclined to protest her decision,” the brood’s master replied from where he sat on the bed at my feet. “Pepper, you’re going to need to drink blood so you can recover from that rather unpleasant incident.”
“Tomorrow.”
“Giovanni?”
“She is accustomed to limited nutrition. A single night won’t hurt her, but she should have a significant feeding tomorrow. I recommend at least four pints, and I would prefer if you donated no more than two and kept your activities to your suite for the remainder of the evening. As I noticed you’re being possessive, I would recommend you give her two and she attempts to consume the rest as Wagyu.”
“Wagyu won’t bother her?”
“While it will be less than ideal, her body is checking for the required magical traces in the blood the instant it enters her mouth. She is absorbing that through her gums and in her throat, and her stomach is simply processing the leftovers and freshening up her blood. It appears she’s receiving most of her nutrition from the magic stripped out of the blood. I’m uncertain if she’ll be able to consume human blood.”
“That’s a problem. She’s restricted to highly processed blood and vampiric blood?”
“Any preternatural blood should suffice. If you have high grade cow blood, we can do a minor test. Fortunately, she doesn’t need to swallow for these tests; I can tell if the blood will have an adverse reaction from the moment it touches her tongue. She can probably identify it with a sniff, however. Her expression when she smelled the blood suggests she could tell it wouldn’t settle well.”
“Her reaction goes beyond a failure for the blood to settle well. I do have other bloods in stock, but I would rather not sicken her further.”
“Her body is rejecting blood that is not of nutritional value for her. Young vampires are raised consuming and converting many different blood types. Her body is unable to process chicken blood, and I suspect it does not process cow’s blood well, either. Was she difficult to get up this morning?”
“Somewhat.”
“And she mostly consumed Wagyu yesterday?”
“Mostly.”
“I suspect it could have long-term health consequences if she doesn’t adapt, and there’s no way of knowing if she’ll adapt without doing tests. It would take several weeks of consuming high-grade cow’s blood to see if she is digesting it properly.”
Emerick clicked his tongue, and I peeked out from under the covers. The brood’s master engaged the doctor in a staring contest, and his eyes flashed violet.
“Glaring at me isn’t going to change anything, Master Lowrance. It would be better for her health if she isn’t restricted to vampiric blood, and outside of human blood, which is heavily regulated and problematically expensive, it will require easing her into better tolerance of animal bloods. What if she’s stuck away from the cities and needs to hunt a cow or deer for survival? She’s currently unable to digest regular blood.”
“We haven’t tried on the hoof yet,” Emerick replied. “She may be able to hunt cattle or deer. If she’s trained properly, she can subdue her prey and drink enough to slake her thirst.”
“We have not hunted animals in that fashion for decades.”
“I will not leave her unable to feed if the situation demands it. We’re vampires. We’re all taught how to hunt appropriate prey. We have humans who consent to being bitten specifically to teach our younglings how best to deaden a human to the pain of a bite and take only enough to sustain life. This training is why I have to carefully budget when I add a newly turned to the brood; I compensate the volunteers far more than the gover
nment’s mandate.”
“While I know that, it doesn’t change the fact that she has to learn what she can eat, and that means setting aside prejudices to see if she can drink from humans or animals. A single monitored feeding with a young lady will give us an idea of if she’s restricted to vampiric blood. I know you have several ladies who would be interested in the extra paycheck, too. You’ve deliberately selected them because they are willing to help our women have children.”
My eyes widened, and I braved coming out from under the covers completely. “One of the brides in the brood is going to have a child?”
“Not precisely. I intend on inquiring if any of the current pairings wish to make the attempt as soon as I have sufficient human women willing to donate. They will be compensated and treated well and enjoy a stay at one of my newest residences. Essentially, they will be offered free rent at one of my apartment complexes, they will be salaried for donating, and they will be on a renewing contract; however long they wish to be a donor, they may remain. We will allow entire family units to move into the complex. The only restriction is that the woman donating may not be using any form of chemical birth control, and should she become pregnant during her contract, she will be cared for and asked to help provide milk and blood post delivery. It’ll be very beneficial.”
I regarded Emerick with raised brows. At first glance, I couldn’t figure out what was wrong with his suggestion. “What’s the catch?”
“There is no catch. It’s a mutually beneficial arrangement. She would donate once a month, promise to not do drugs or drink alcohol during her donation period, and consent to blood tests and health monitoring to ensure she remains healthy during the term of pregnancy. If she requires medical care, the brood will provide it for her. I am hoping to target single mothers who need assistance providing for their children, as most vampires do ultimately like children and do not get a chance to spend time with them. It provides emotional stability for my brood, and it gives women a chance to have a safe home. We are beginning negotiations with several local women’s shelters to offer such opportunities to women fleeing domestic violence situations.”
Every time I thought the vampire was just another smug rich man with an abnormally long life and a taste for blood, he insisted on surprising me.
My father would have done his best to find some way to take advantage of the situation. “Do you have documentation for this?”
“You would read every piece of paper relating to my brood if I let you, wouldn’t you?”
I shrugged, as I would. “Perhaps.”
“Yes, and I do not mind you evaluating the contract to ensure it is fair; you are a fresh perspective to the arrangement. A desperate woman will agree to many things if she thinks it will protect her children. You are a modern woman, desperate in a different fashion, and seem sensible about what is fair and what is not. I have no issue with you helping with this matter. I will allow you to review the donation contract as well, as it is an experiment we do need to test. Giovanni, I trust you can select the best fit. Try to find someone with a strong intellect who may be able to provide Pepper with some companionship as well.”
“It will be done,” the doctor promised, and he checked his phone. “Try to have her drink a pint from you tonight if she’ll permit it. It will help her recover from her reaction with the chicken blood. Put her on bed rest for at least three to four nights if possible. Don’t allow her to take a bath unmonitored, as she likely will nap. That’s a fairly normal reaction, since her body is fairly depleted. That’s no fault of yours, Miss Pepper. You were not taught what you need to know, and you did what you could to survive, but you will need to take it easy on yourself. You can tell Ben I’m barring any practice sessions for a minimum of a week. She needs rest and blood, and she has an eternity to get back into her physical prime.”
“Indeed. I will handle things from here, and I will make sure she gets at least a pint of blood.”
“No more than two, and should she take two, I will want you drinking double to compensate, with at least one pint from a human donor.”
While the brood’s master scowled at the edict, he nodded his acceptance of the doctor’s terms. “Very well. I will contact you if there are any issues. Should I keep her awake beyond sunrise?”
“If you can, but don’t push her too hard. You can adjust her schedule for practicing later.”
The doctor left, and Emerick waited until the man was out of sight before rising to his feet and closing the bedroom door. “I am not above bribing you to practice staying awake after sunrise.”
“I see you mean business about staying awake after sunrise.”
“It is for your safety. It’s how we begin building resistance to sunlight.”
“What bribe are you offering?”
“As you are to stay in my suite for the next week, I will begin teaching you how to use one of my more entertaining abilities, one that you will find most interesting. It will not take much strength, and as you’ll be drinking my blood, you will have access to my magic. With two pints of my blood a day, I think you’ll be able to catch on to the trick of it quickly. It will be our dark, dirty little secret—one that may serve you well should you find yourself in more trouble than you can handle.”
“You don’t like when people tell you that you can’t do something.” I considered the brood master with a smile. “I understand that.”
“I’m sure you do. I’ve seen your irritation at being told what you should do since I dragged you home with me.” He matched my smile with one of his own. “I’ve found nettling you quite enjoyable.”
Of course he did. “What is so dark and dirty about this secret?”
His smile grew a wicked edge. “Most vampires need a hundred or more years to learn the trick of it, and I plan to teach you in the matter of a week. Mark my words, Pepper. When I am finished with you, you will be the most splendid woman anyone has ever seen. And in what will be my sweetest victory, everyone will know you are mine. We’ll delight in our triumph together. That is when you’ll meet your maker, and it will be my honor to teach you how best to slay him.”
“Just how do you plan on teaching me something that typically takes others so long to learn in such a short period of time?”
“With you consuming so much of my blood, it’ll be child’s play. I’ll show you by forcing your body to do as I desire of it; you will learn from experiencing it. Most vampires are not inclined to teach such methods to those who have consumed their blood. I will do so aggressively. I will even do so while you sleep under the sun’s influence. You will learn things without knowing, and I will relish your surprise when you discover your new gifts.”
Had the brood’s master lost his mind? “That sounds insane.”
“I’ve never had such an opportunity, but I believe you’re ambitious enough to withstand it. You want to destroy your maker, do you not?”
“I do.”
“Cooperate with me, and I will give you everything you need to do as you wish. You will have to trust me. You already do. You’re drinking my blood knowing of the potential consequences.”
Considering my reaction to chicken blood, I had few choices. I could starve to death, run the risk of becoming blood bound to Emerick, or return to my life of hunting for miscreants and erasing them, suffering between meals and living a half-life.
Given a chance, I’d still hunt the miscreants, but I would do so aware I had a home to return to. I’d still drink the bastards down to prevent them from rising for a third time—and to remind myself I did a terrible thing for the sake of others. While he gave me a choice, it wasn’t much of a choice at all.
I could only live with one option.
My maker would die at my hand, and I needed Emerick’s help to make it happen. To keep hold of my pride, I issued the same challenge as I had before.
“Do your worst.”
Ten
All it takes is a stake.
I needed to stop challenging Emerick L
owrance.
The more of his blood I drank, the easier it became for him to take full control of my body and make me do what he wanted. To introduce me to the reality of what it meant to drink another vampire’s blood and leave my prey alive, he taught me how to waltz.
Without any say in how I moved, he transformed me from a woman with two left feet into someone with poise, grace, and dignity. He forced me to repeat the same steps until my body remembered even when my mind cycled through fury over doing what he wanted, interest in the fact that he could really force me to do what he wanted, and elation in learning I could dance, even if it took some damned egotistical vampire doing the real work.
“According to your expression, you didn’t believe you could dance.”
While he held control over my body, he’d left my face alone, probably so he could expand his vocabulary. I’d gone through every English curse I could muster, and I’d repeated them in various combinations while he focused on making sure I flowed across the floor. “I can’t. You’re dancing, I’m just along for the ride. You’ll stop controlling me, and you’ll have flattened toes in about ten seconds.”
“Having seen how you move naturally, there’s no reason you cannot become a most excellent dancer. When I present you at the ball, you will surpass the brides in grace and beauty. I will enjoy their expressions when I bring you out in the finest the modern world has to offer while you waltz better than those among them who’ve had many years to practice old steps. We’ll do some modern dances for their enjoyment, too.”
