Chapter 3 #2
Idraw in a deep, filling breath. Everything about me tingles as the living blood pumps through my greedy veins.
Leaning against the desk, I close my eyes.
There’s never silence after drinking from Haven.
I can hear the hum of both new and old power under my skin, the slow, steady beating of my lover’s heart in the adjoining room, and even the muffled voices of the manor’s occupants as they ready themselves for the morning’s sleep.
It’s as if her blood is made for me; it brings my centuries-old heart back to life.
Last night had been a success. My newest turn, Avrum, is proving to be more loyal and more capable than most of his older counterparts.
I see promise in him. Since the beginning, he’s been eager to learn, to improve, whatever and however he could.
He has ambition. He has courage. He has strengths that—with my guidance—could someday make Avrum Brenin a lord very much like me.
He just has to be pushed beyond his limits and encouraged the right way. Swayed.
My current issue lies with the poor girl I found on the streets of Birmingham. Haven. What am I going to do with her? She’s all attitude and defiance. She likes to challenge me, to push my buttons, and while I find it amusing sometimes, I’ll have to break her will eventually to get her to my side.
She may say she hates me, but I know that can’t be true. Not after what we’ve shared. She’s stubborn and young still, there are ways to change that. I’ve done it before.
Returning to the city was an act of na?veté, one I wouldn’t allow to happen again. She’s better off here. With me. And if that means taking out the sole reason she feels she must leave, then so be it.
I sigh, a dull ache starting to build at my temples. As much as Haven reminds me of my dear Linna, she’s still too young to know how to properly love me like she used to.
Linna. My Linna.
I lick my lips as the memories come flooding back to me.
Some of the metallic taste of Haven still lingers there, and flames of desire lick over my skin.
As a youth, I had known loneliness. It had been my companion for many, many years.
My own mother had died during my birth, and so, as a young man, my father remarried, aware of the womanly absence in my life.
His new wife was named Lady Caroline Beatrum―or as she soon became to me, Linna.
My life changed the moment she’d come into my world.
Even with twelve years over me, she was still a masterpiece handcrafted by God.
A tall woman, as tall as I’d been at fifteen years of age.
She had hair the color of autumn leaves, and it was long, sweeping across her waist and curved hips.
She was perfection wrapped in glossy, cream skin.
A vision. A temptation no man could resist.
Despite all her stunning attributes, it was her eyes that had gripped me.
Her eyes were the strangest color I’d ever seen, but really, they were not truly one color at all.
More like an array of colors. The prominent shade, and the one seen upon first glance, was a radiant sapphire.
It matched the gem she wore each day around her neck on a gold chain.
As time went by, I’d discovered the irises also held a band of green around the pupil and a few shimmering specks of gold.
It was those eyes that had haunted me since my first death and rebirth.
It was Linna who had shown me what love was.
When my father was away at the king’s court, she invited me to her bed at night.
She’d instructed me on how to properly please a woman with every inch of my body, and she was forceful, at times demanding, always wanting more of me.
But I would always oblige. She was all I ever wanted and all I needed. I loved her fiercely.
Linna may have been my life before this one, but after so many decades and centuries of being without her, I truly believe I have found her again.
Haven reminds me so much of Linna… Not in manner—no—but there is a glimpse of fire in Haven that I remember burning so bright in Linna. And those eyes! Haven bore the very eyes that had captivated me so long ago! The blues, the greens, and golds. They were just too similar.
Our paths have crossed for a reason, I’m sure of it.
We were supposed to find each other again so that I could relive what had been unfairly taken away from me almost three centuries ago.
I just need to guide Haven like I have with the others of my coven.
I need to awake in her the feelings I know she has for me, buried deep.
I just have to show her, as Linna had done, what love feels like.
Glancing at the door that separates us, I can still hear her soft breaths as she sleeps in the next room. The bronze crow figure looks back at me with fierce pride, and I find my chest swelling with it as well.
Like it used to be then, she will love me again. I will make sure of it.
She is my Haven now.
Haven
Iawake from my peaceful sleep, but instead of opening my eyes, I squeeze them shut tighter.
I pray for the numbness that comes with sleep to stay with me a little while longer, but the moment I draw in a lungful of air, all my senses return with it.
Everything is throbbing―my chest, my neck, my hands.
Even though a part of me wants to open my eyes and assess the damage Henri has done this time, the other part wants to remain ignorant.
I try to think back to the night before. Henri’s study, the letter opener, his mouth on my breasts… A violent shiver rockets through me and nausea rolls.
Doing all I can to block that out of my thoughts, I try to focus on what happened after, but only blackness stirs. Emptiness.
I must have passed out. It was the only explanation I could come up with. He had taken that much blood from me.
But my biggest concern is what happened during those unconscious moments.
I rub my legs together. Nothing hurts, as I expect, and I don’t feel anything slick like blood or manly fluids.
Relief washing over me, I release a held breath. I’ve been saved. This time.
But for how much longer?
Henri is insane and just too strong. He keeps pushing his boundaries with me, and it’s clear what he’s after. He isn’t going to stop the torture until I gave in—willingly or not.
I wish he would just kill me and get it over with.
Something damp and warm touches my chest, and I jump out of my thoughts, heart racing wildly and body thrashing. The ropes around my wrists jerk me back onto the bed, and I’m left gasping with pain radiating down my arms.
“Oh! I’m sorry, miss!”
My head snaps right, and I find a girl dressed in a black and white frock standing beside the bed with a towel in her quivering hands.
When I recognize her as Emma, one of the many maids in Greystone Manor, I force my raging pulse to ease.
It takes a great effort, but eventually, my aching body sinks into the mattress again.
“Oh, Emma…” I mutter, my voice cracking at the end. I wish I could tell her more, but once pending tears prickle my eyes, I decide against it. It’s too painful to give the fear and sorrow swimming inside me a voice.
This isn’t the first time Emma has found me this way.
Unfortunately, we’d met the first morning after my abduction.
She’d been sent to change Lord Henri’s bedsheets and found me there instead, frightened, weak, and tied to one of the bed’s four posters like a captured animal.
Even at the young age of twelve, Emma has shown me more compassion than anyone else here, and I’m so thankful to have her warmth in such a cold and dark place.
More tears threaten to spill, but I quickly blink them away. My gaze raises to the ceiling. Delicately painted cherubs look down at me with round faces and blush-colored wings. It feels as if they’re watching me, judging me, like I am some kind of poor, damned soul who’s too far gone to be saved.
“I’m sorry for startling you, miss,” Emma tries again, and brushes away a stray hair away from her face, “but you were bleeding from the…” Her words fade out as her eyes travel up and down my half-naked body. They don’t need to be said. We both know what she means.
The remaining cloth from my torn nightgown covers only from my hips to my knees, and I’m lying there mostly exposed to her. Color stains Emma’s cheeks, but that’s the only clue to any discomfort. “Did he—”
“No,” I finish quickly, knowing exactly what she’s referring to. “Not this time.”
Again, Emma gingerly presses the wet cloth against my wounds, while I do my best not to wince or show her pain. If I’m still bleeding, that means Henri only left me a few moments ago.
My eyes roll up to where my wrists are tied above my head. The flesh is red and raw underneath the ropes. Great, more scars for me to bear.
“I brought you some bread from the kitchens, and tea.” Emma pulls the white sheets over my nakedness before gesturing to a tray of freshly made rolls and a steaming teapot on the bedside table. “I know you can't eat or drink any of it now but—”
“Thank you,” I whisper. After much cruelty, the gesture has my throat tightening with emotion. It’s taking every last bit of strength I have not to burst into tears at any second.
As if knowing that, Emma’s green eyes search my face. Then, she wrings the water out of the cloth into a bowl in her lap and continues to dab at my wounds and talk. “How are you feeling?”
“Better.” I lick my dry lips. “I went to see my father.”
“Oh, no, miss. During the party? The lord must have been so mad…”
The mention of Henri again makes me cringe. Especially referring to him as a ‘lord.’ I severely doubt he holds any real title like that.
“He was,” I say. “But I was so close to seeing my father again this time. If Henri’s ‘Yes Man’ hadn’t found me…”
“Mr. Brenin?” she squeaks.
Unsure of his last name, I ask, “Avrum?”
She nods.
“Then yes. He’s been assigned to watch me. Make sure I don’t get too far. He’s the one who brought me back.”
It’s best to keep the other parts—the more personal parts, like our almost intimate moment in the foyer—to myself. I’m still struggling to make sense of it myself.
“He asked after you, miss. I don’t really know why, but Mr. Brenin sent me here to check on you,” she said.
What? He asked about me?
Better yet, he wanted Emma to come check on me?
I stare at her in disbelief, but my stomach flips with apprehension. Did he know what Henri had done to me, and that’s why? As Henri’s favorite, he must know, right?
Even after asking myself the question, I can’t seem to answer it definitely.
The way he was trying to talk to me about his family, let me see into his life, and then care about my wet and cold condition enough to have a bath arranged, it’s more compassion than I’ve seen from any other of the blood-thirsty creatures living here.
Maybe, just maybe, Henri is hiding it from him, too.
Don’t be a fool, Haven. My conscience rears up. Look at you. Tied up like some kind of animal. Of course he knows. He may even take you next if you let him close again.
Anger replaces the nerves. I need to stop looking for comfort when it isn’t there. Every person in this place cannot be trusted. Thinking of the wrong person as an ally will get me killed.
“I knew you wouldn’t believe me,” Emma says, studying my face. “Mr. Brenin showed a great deal of concern for you.”
She’s right there. I don’t believe her.
“He did.” Another blush raises on Emma’s cheeks. “He asked me to see how you were doing. If you were well.”
“Do I look well?” I snap, my annoyance over the conversation growing. I tug at the restraints on my arms. “Is this normal in any way?”
Surprised by my outburst, Emma sits back on her heels, appearing a bit frightened.
Instantly regretting my temper, I sigh. Exhaustion washes over me, as does sorrow. “Forgive me. It’s not you I’m furious with. It’s myself. And them. We live among demons, Emma. We’re in Hell. And the only way to save our souls is to find a way out ourselves.”
More fear fills Emma’s eyes.
I ramble on, my determination growing with every word. “I don’t know how much longer Henri will keep delaying defiling me, or how long he’ll keep me alive. If I’m dead, I’m sure he will kill my father too, just for the sport of it. Staying here seals my fate.”
“What do you mean, miss? You want to run away? Again?”
I nod. “But this time, I’ll make a plan. I’ll gather what I need, steal a horse, maybe, and flee the country. I’ll make sure I don’t come back.”
“If you are caught…”
“Then I’m dead anyway. I know the risks. But I can’t just wait here and wait for death, allowing him to torture me every night until he finally loses control. I can’t bear it.”
Glancing over her shoulder at the door, Emma’s voice drops to a hurried whisper. “But miss, you don’t know what they are capable of. Their strength. Their speed. Their ability to outrun death.”
I’d seen the way Henri’s skin had zipped back together after I’d struck him with the letter opener. It was unnatural.
That’s why escaping is my only opinion. I most certainly couldn’t overpower him or kill him.
“What other choice do I have?”
Emma doesn’t reply.
“Emma, I know I haven’t known you for long, but you have been so kind to me,” I begin gently. “I would feel just terrible if I left you here alone. I want you to come with me.”
She jumps to her feet. “I-I can’t!”
“Emma, please.”
“We could be killed.”
“Or we could be free.”
Dropping the towel back into the bowl onto the bed, she pressed her hands against her face. “I have nowhere to go…” she mumbles into her palms. “Nowhere.”
“Where are your parents?” I ask.
“My mother works as a governess in Tours.”
Tours, France? What brought this young girl to England, so far away from her mother? Now may not be the best time to ask. Instead, to reassure her, I reply, “You will be with me. We would have each other.”
When she pulls her hands away, I can see tears glistening in her eyes. “I can’t, miss… I just can’t…”
I understand her fears. She’s young, alone, and scared of the consequences. As much as I’d hate to leave her in this Hell, I’m not going to force her to leave, either.
As for me… Well, there isn’t any other option.
Even with the chance of being caught or killed looming over my head, I know getting far, far away from Greystone Manor is the once chance I have at living. I don’t know when I am to do it or how, but one thing’s for sure—this time, when I make a run for it, I’m never coming back.