CHAPTER 2 AILEEN
CHAPTER 2
AILEEN
The Atalon League cafeteria was vastly different from the one in the Rayne League, and yet I still got a stifling feeling of pained nostalgia. It was large and posh, decorated with twinkling chandeliers and ornamented wall lanterns, arches made of marble holding the ceiling.
It was so early in the morning that when Isora and I walked in, the cafeteria was empty but for the kitchen assistants. Both of us spent the night awake together, though we didn’t talk much after our initial chat; we put on a movie and watched in silence, both lost in thought.
Now, the two of us, sporting dark bags under our eyes, made a beeline to the coffee station. We didn’t speak as we poured our drinks, but when she mixed her espresso with a quarter of a cup of B-positive blood from the nearby dispenser, I found myself croaking, “That’s an odd choice.”
Isora turned to me with a frown that accentuated the lack of sleep she’d gotten. “What do you mean?”
“Coffee usually goes better with AB negative,” I informed her and yawned, thinking back to my dishwashing team at the Rayne League. Jada, Bowen, and CJ told me all kinds of things during my shifts with them, and one of those things was the secret to a good coffee. While blood tasted like water on its own, when mixed with certain spices, fruits, and, in this case, coffee beans, it took on a variety of different flavors, depending on the blood type.
Isora snorted. “I like my coffee more on the sweeter side, thank you very much.”
When I saw her plopping five packs of sugar into her brew, I stared at her in astonishment. “Would you like some coffee with your sugar?”
She rolled her eyes, but her lips twitched. “So it’s true what they say, then?”
Frowning, I cocked my head. “What’s that?”
“That the Rayne League is full of judgmental snobs?” Isora gave me a smirk.
Arching a brow, I grabbed my mug and raised it to her. “Simple coffee with AB negative, and I’m good to go.”
She made a disgusted face. “That sounds bitter. Yuck.”
“Oh, and I’m the snob,” I murmured.
Chuckling, she motioned toward the nearby buffet. “I smell fresh croissants. Or are you averse to those as well?”
“Don’t be daft,” I replied dryly, and we both headed to the next table. I piled eggs and bacon onto my plate, though I wasn’t feeling particularly hungry, and with a fake dirty look to Isora, I grabbed a small croissant.
We found a table near the back wall and settled there. She made a toast with her coffee mug, and I couldn’t help but be charmed by her antics, especially when she practically chugged her coffee in about three gulps.
A smile teased my lips as we ate our breakfast in a companionable and surprisingly comfortable silence.
It occurred to me then that it was the first time I’d eaten with another vampire voluntarily like this in a League cafeteria. Back at the Rayne League, I’d basically been a social pariah, thanks to my status as a kitchen assistant. But here I was, having a relaxed breakfast with another vampire without any ulterior motives or anything of the sort.
As the Atalon League vampires began slowly trickling into the cafeteria, I felt a sudden sense of melancholy and nostalgia. Would I be assigned to the kitchens here as well and serve this League’s vampires? Would I meet a new dishwashing team?
My chest squeezed as I thought of Jada, CJ, and Bowen. The Rayne League dishwashing team was irreplaceable for me. Even the thought of not seeing them again made me queasy with pain. I truly cared for those three. I didn’t want to meet another dishwashing team. I didn’t want to work in the Atalon League kitchens. It would feel like I was betraying my own precious memories.
Feeling my cheek burning, I glanced at the cafeteria patrons. Many of them glanced at Isora and me, but none of them approached us. Which was just as well; I was in no mood to socialize, Isora notwithstanding.
Despite my earlier difficulties making friends, it felt easy with Isora. We barely knew each other, and yet something about her put me enough at ease to lay to rest the painful memories of my former League.
And because of that, I said, “Can I ask you something?”
She gave me a curious look. “Sure.”
Lowering my fork, I studied her face. “What did you mean last night about going from one hell to another?”
I didn’t get to hear Isora’s response because just then, someone called, “Isora!”
Both Isora and I turned to see a familiar face coming our way. She had long brown hair, large dark eyes, and a pretty, freckled face.
“You left without me?” Eleanor, our third suitemate, said, a pout brewing.
“Good morning, Ellie,” Isora said, smiling at her. “We didn’t want to wake you. We were both already up, so we just decided to come down. Sorry about that.”
Eleanor scowled as she stopped by our table. “Kind of different from the Renaldi League, huh? Geez. Lord Renaldi would die if he saw us eating like this,” she said grumpily.
“I was thinking about that too. And how he used to keep us on edge by limiting our blood intake?” Isora responded, her voice full of hope despite what she had alluded to last night about this League. “We wanted to get some coffee in our blood.”
Eleanor turned her eyes to me, as if she hadn’t realized I was there before. “Oh, good morning, Aileen,” she said offhandedly before returning her gaze to Isora. “Let’s go all three of us together next time. Remember, there’s strength in numbers.”
I schooled my face as I nodded, hiding my surprise. I’d been sure she would ask Isora to go with her alone next time. It was nice to feel included, even if it meant I was left out of their bonding over their trauma from Lord Renaldi and his League.
A few minutes later, Eleanor returned with her breakfast and joined us. Unlike when it was just Isora and me, Eleanor didn’t seem to be comfortable with silence and spoke the entire time, telling us all about the dreams she had, and who she’d already met from the Atalon League, and all her thoughts and feelings. I listened closely, not that anyone could get a word in edgewise, attempting to discern tidbits of knowledge about Renaldi.
She somewhat reminded me of Zoey, my suitemate from the Rayne League; though, while talkative, Zoey was much less of a chatterbox. My thoughts drifted to her, and I wondered what she was doing now. I wished I knew how she was doing and whether we were feeling similarly.
She had been bought by Lord Renaldi, though, so I had a sinking feeling that she had it far worse.
Normally, I would’ve been annoyed by Eleanor’s ramblings, but it was a welcome distraction from my darkening thoughts. I hadn’t even been thinking about him ever since I met Isora in our suite living room, and I wasn’t ready to go back there. Not yet.
Breakfast passed in a loud yet peaceful manner. It helped me settle down a bit.
Though that didn’t last, because before long, a woman approached us and said, “Isora Elios and Eleanor Simmons?”
My suitemates raised their heads toward the woman. She gave them a businesslike smile. “You are to come with me.” She turned to me. “Miss Henderson, Lord Atalon is waiting for you outside.”
I tensed, suddenly on alert. Sharing the sentiment, Isora asked, “What’s going on?”
“I’m to take you on a bit of a tour,” the woman replied. “Now chop-chop!”
Reluctantly, Eleanor and Isora bid me farewell and followed the woman outside the cafeteria. I quickly finished my coffee, no longer feeling so content, and left the table in haste.
I found Lord Atalon right outside the main entrance to the cafeteria, leaning against the wall. Gone was the suit he’d worn to the Auction, and instead he wore beige tailored trousers with an emerald-colored button-down shirt tucked in, the sleeves folded to his elbows, showing the fancy Rolex on his left wrist. His platinum hair shone with gel that slicked it back, and his black eyes found mine before they slid down, giving me a slow perusal.
There was nothing much to see, to be honest. My wavy hair, even if it was somehow lighter than it was a few days ago, was in its usual updo; my hazel eyes were sunken; and my olive skin was pale with exhaustion. I was wearing simple jeans, a V-neck tee, and sneakers. Nothing about me was as posh or expensive as Atalon.
But from the way he looked me up and down, one would’ve thought I was wearing a nightgown or something.
Shifting from foot to foot, I folded my arms and cleared my throat. His eyes snapped up to meet mine. “Good morning, my Lord,” I said, voice taut with tension.
“Good morning, Aileen,” he said smoothly, as if he hadn’t just blatantly checked me out. “I hope your first night in my League went well. Let us begin our tour, shall we?”
He offered me his arm, but I pretended not to notice and said, “After you, my Lord.”
His smile turned into a knowing grin, and we started walking. I trailed behind him, letting him lead, but he suddenly paused and turned around. “Aileen, I’m not Rayne,” he said, his voice softly chastising. “You don’t have to walk behind me.”
For the next hour, Atalon took me through the entirety of the League. We started from the top floor, which was filled with shops that could easily fit in on Manhattan’s Fifth Avenue. “Each boutique is managed by some of my Gifteds,” Atalon explained as we stopped before the showcase of a luxurious jewelry store. “This one here, for instance, is run by a Gifted jewel crafter with a specific talent for unearthing the purest gold and platinum and the rarest diamonds. The income from these shops accounts for a significant portion of our revenue.”
I glanced at Atalon and saw pride shining in his eyes. It made me relax a bit. A Lord who was genuinely proud of his vampires and their accomplishments probably meant me no harm.
Our next stop was the workshop floor. “This is where my artistic Gifteds spend most of their time. They work in leathers, cashmere, wood, silk, and more. We handcraft some of the world’s finest goods, from furniture to luggage,” Atalon said, motioning toward the few doors spread across the floor. “Behind each door, there is a studio tailored for the artist’s needs. Let me show you one.”
We headed toward the first door on the right, and I could hear a faint thumping noise. As if someone was hitting something. Atalon knocked, and a feminine voice called from inside, “Come in!”
Atalon opened the door, and we walked in. What I saw made me stop in place and gape.
The studio was large and spacious, with an unexpectedly tall ceiling. Marble sculptures and pieces were scattered around the room, some of them hidden under a simple white cloth, and many tools, like chisels and oddly curved knives, spread across the floor. Despite the mess, the studio was surprisingly clean.
In the middle of the room, a woman sat on the top level of a ladder next to a sculpture of what seemed to be a seven-foot-tall man. She gave us a wide pretty smile as she wiped her hands on the thighs of her faded jeans, which looked as if they had seen better days. “Morning, Atalon,” she said, and the friendly, carefree way she said Atalon’s name let me in on the fact she must be quite high up the hierarchy. “And morning to you too, newbie. I’m Demetria.”
“Aileen,” I murmured as she fixed her catlike amber eyes in my direction.
“You’ve spent the night here again, haven’t you?” Atalon said now, sighing as he looked at Demetria, his eyes unapologetically taking in the generous bust she’d failed to conceal under an oversize top.
She laughed. “It’s not a crime, you know. And with the gala event around the corner ...”
Her laughter coaxed a begrudging smile out of Atalon. “Have you at least eaten anything?”
Demetria blushed from the attention and pushed a stray wisp of wine red hair that had fallen across her cheek back into her artfully messy bun. “I’m going to in a few minutes,” Demetria promised before turning her eyes back to me. They seemed curious. “Are you a new Gifted joining our floor?”
Confused, I was about to reply when Atalon beat me to it. “No, she’s one of the Commons I purchased at yesterday’s Auction.”
Demetria seemed surprised before her face relaxed into a friendly smile. “Welcome to the Atalon League, then.”
Atalon didn’t seem to want to dawdle, so we quickly left Demetria’s studio after that. Was she surprised Atalon was personally giving a tour to a Common, or was she surprised I wasn’t Gifted? Or both?
The next few floors I already knew. One was where the cafeteria was, along with the Atalon League private gallery I’d visited a month ago and the Athenaeum, which was basically a library with a fancy name. The other floor was the Commons residence, and the floor under it was the Gifted residence.
We finished the tour at the first floor, which was home to the many League offices, including Vampire Resources and Lord Atalon’s office.
After a quick review of that floor, Atalon led me into his office reception area. I was struck by its sleekness; the walls, marble floor, and ceiling were all painted the same shade of red as the rest of the League. Even the large chandelier was the same color. The color unity had the effect of a padded white room in an asylum.
There were eye-catching paintings on the walls, all of which were abstract with different shades of red, and that, too, added to the suffocating feel of the whole space.
But when we walked into Atalon’s actual office, that’s when I had to stop and stare.
It was empty but for a desk and a couple of chairs. The wall behind the desk wasn’t really a wall but a floor-to-ceiling aquarium with all kinds of fish swimming about. The other walls were filled with so many paintings and framed pictures that there was not even one small spot of the actual wall.
Atalon went to sit behind the desk, and I slowly made my way to one of the two free chairs, trying to tear my eyes away from the aquarium and the walls unsuccessfully.
It seemed Atalon was familiar with this kind of reaction to his office, because he silently let me have my fill for a few minutes until he said, “I’m taking a guess here that you like my office.”
Like was an understatement. “It’s beautiful,” I said, painfully returning my gaze to Atalon. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”
He smiled, pride again gleaming from within. “It took four years to build and another fifty to stock the walls with these rare pieces. And these fish? They come from all over the world. This aquarium looks like it’s one piece, but it actually is made up of two hundred pieces and compartments to house lots of different types of fish. Collecting unusual and beautiful things is my passion.”
“I thought you were more of an artist,” I noted quietly and couldn’t help but look back to the walls. I remembered viewing his paintings in the gallery.
“Can’t I be both a collector and an artist?” he inquired.
I glanced at him, then back at the walls in amazement. It was as though I’d been transported to another universe, if only for a short period of time. “Apparently, you can.”
Atalon chuckled, drawing my eyes back to him. “Now that it’s all cleared up, we have some matters to discuss.”
And that quickly, I returned to my current life, paintings-filled walls and aquarium forgotten. A foreboding feeling fell upon me, chasing away any lingering feelings of wonder I might’ve still had. What did he want to talk about?
“As you well know,” Atalon began, leaning back into his chair, “every vampire in every League has to work to keep their Leagued status.”
Dread crawled into my stomach. I knew that far too well. I’d had to work as a kitchen assistant back in the Rayne League because of this stupid clause in the League System Agreement. Basically, it meant that while I didn’t have to pay rent or taxes, I did have to work and contribute in some way to my League.
It had completely escaped my mind that I would have to do this now too. Before, I couldn’t even imagine life after the Auction, and that did not prepare me whatsoever for what was now coming. That, and the shock of the Auction and its results, made me completely forget about it.
He handed me one of the papers lying on his desk. “Please read this through and let me know if you have any questions.”
My eyes dropped to the papers, and my heart stuttered when I saw my name in block letters across the top of the first page. There was a bulleted list consisting of three job titles: museum guide assistant, artist assistant, and vampire resources secretary.
I looked up, baffled. “Can I ask what parameters you are taking into account when you choose which jobs to offer to new members?”
Atalon smiled, but his eyes told me a different story. They were watching me like a hawk, as if he was waiting for a moment to strike to present itself. “Normally, I receive the files the members’ former Lords compiled and base the job offers on that.”
I froze.
His smile widened as his eyes grew warmer. “Don’t worry, Rayne didn’t write anything incriminating about you. He simply stated a few facts, including that painting and art in general are your hobbies. Which I could already tell, of course, considering your Auction performance.”
My mind exploded with memories that were so sudden, my heartbeat became a drum in my chest. Upon my first meeting with Ragnor, he’d asked me what my hobbies were. I told him I had none. And yet he wrote those anyway—hobbies he knew Atalon would take note of.
Had Ragnor been trying to push me into Atalon’s League from the start?
There was only one conclusion to all this.
He never planned to have me.
My gaze lowered to the floor. “I see.”
Pain spread across my chest, threatening to suffocate me. I could still remember how Ragnor looked at me right before the Auction began, when I asked him if sex was all he wanted from me.
Then he told me he wanted to change. He’d given me hope. That maybe, just maybe, I was worth more to him.
That I hadn’t been the only one of us to develop feelings.
But if there was one thing I should’ve learned by now, it was to never trust men to stay by my side. They would all abandon me in the end.
It was a pity I had let Ragnor make me forget that important lesson.
I clenched my hands into fists and said, “What do artist assistant and museum guide assistant entail?”
“Artist assistant is pretty straightforward,” Atalon replied. “You’ll assist the League’s Gifted artists, like Demetria. I won’t lie,” he added, making me raise my eyes to his suddenly serious face. “This isn’t an easy job. Artists, as you probably know, have quite the turbulent nature, and it can make them extremely hard to deal with sometimes.”
I studied him now. “Are you like that too?”
He smiled again and flippantly said, “Who knows?”
Grimacing, I asked, “What about the museum guide assistant?”
“If you ask for my opinion, this is probably the best job offer of these three,” he said, eyes probing, “and the one I wish you would accept.”
Uneasy, I narrowed my eyes. “Why?”
“The Atalonian Museum is one of a kind, you see,” he replied with his smile still intact. “It is dedicated solely to vampire artists not just from my League, but from others too. It’s full of masterpieces and beautiful exhibits you wouldn’t be able to find anywhere else.”
He rose from his seat and began pacing, hands behind his back. My heart panged as he did so, reminding me of my former Comprehensive Newcomer Three-Month Course teacher, Abe. He used to do that, too, when he was about to launch into one of his long lectures. “Working in the museum is considered a privilege for many,” he said. “Especially for Commons—it’s an opportunity to be closer to the League’s shining stars and make a difference. And a museum guide assistant is possibly the most important role—because you wouldn’t just guide visitors, but would also participate in auctions, special exhibitions, and even dealmaking, depending on your performance.”
It sounded like this museum was the heart and pride of the Atalon League, if I read the Lord correctly. It was a good opportunity for a Common—better than, even—and I understood that. But it also sounded like too much.
Why would he offer me, a Common he’d just bought, a job that required so much responsibility?
“Can I think it through?” I asked, feeling a wave of exhaustion hitting me. I was in no state to make such a big decision that could affect my future in irrevocable ways.
“Of course,” Atalon replied, giving me a smile that was supposed to be gentle, I believed, but turned out a bit shark-teeth sharp. “You may have until the end of the day.”
I guessed that was the longest he could give me. “Thank you, my Lord.”
“You’re most welcome,” he replied. “And please, call me Atalon.”
I sat in the suite living room, doodling in my small sketchbook absentmindedly, when the door behind me opened. I turned around to see Isora coming out of her bedroom, rubbing her eyes after a much-needed nap. “Evening,” she murmured, going to the fridge to grab a bottle of A positive before plopping on the couch next to me.
“Hey,” I said softly, closing my sketchbook and putting it away. “You look well rested.”
“I am,” she said, giving me a content, sleepy smile. “I need all the rest that I can get before I start my job in the kitchens tomorrow.”
Being a second-timer rather than a newcomer, different rules applied to her. “As a former kitchen aide, it’s not that bad,” I said with a pang in my chest as I thought about how Margarita hazed me every chance she got when I worked in the Rayne League kitchens. Back then, I had been so worried about what had happened to Cassidy. It all seemed so insignificant now. Still, I couldn’t help recalling how my stomach twisted and my heart leaped into my chest when I first saw her and Logan stroll into the cafeteria with Ragnor.
“I would’ve been happy cleaning the bathrooms, too, if they wanted me to,” she said, leaning back as she sipped the blood. “I’m just so glad to be here.”
Before I could stop myself, I blurted out, “That didn’t seem to be the case last night.”
I expected her to clamp up at my probing, but to my surprise, she shot me a rueful smile. “I was going through quite the turmoil then,” she said, “but after talking to Vampire Resources officials and other League members, I feel so much more optimistic. Don’t you?”
Her question might’ve been rhetorical, but it caught me off guard and forced me to think back on my day. It was almost surreal that it had been only one day in the League, when it felt like three. “I don’t know what I think.”
Isora took my hand and squeezed, making me return my eyes to her. Her expression turned serious. “You can talk it out with me if you want to,” she said quietly. “It might help. I heard Lord Rayne was a hard-ass. Wanted everything his way or no way. Lord Atalon seems much more laid back.”
Warmth filled me up at her words, and before I could stop myself, my lips moved on their own accord. “I never considered the option of being sold. I thought ...” I took a deep breath. “I thought Ra—I mean, Lord Rayne would buy me.”
Isora’s blue eyes sharpened, but she said nothing, giving me space to talk. And up until now, I didn’t realize just how much I needed to talk.
“I was involved with an older, high-status man in the Rayne League,” I said, deciding against telling her who it was, exactly. “I believed we felt the same way, but when the Auction happened, he decided to ... break it off.” I paused, grimacing. “And now I don’t know what to do. I can’t see past the anger.”
I fell silent then, staring at Isora’s hand holding mine. It was a relief to voice what I felt, but at the same time, it only solidified my pain.
And that made me want to hurt Ragnor as much as he had hurt me.
To avenge myself somehow.
“It sucks,” Isora said quietly, and when I looked back at her, I saw my pain reflected in her eyes. “I went through the same thing, back when I was human,” she told me, eyes flashing. “I was nineteen at the time, and the man I was involved with was twice my age and a state senator. You can only imagine the kind of things he’d promised me and what I gave him in return, despite him being married with kids.”
I didn’t expect her to share, and the fact that she did, and that she had gone through something similar, made me feel angry on her behalf. “What a dick,” I murmured.
She nodded. “A humongous dick. That’s why I put myself on the waiting list. I wanted to become something more, to live a better life than the one I’d led, especially with him in the picture. I decided to become a vampire and start fresh in a different society, as a different creature altogether, to show myself that I was in charge of my own life—and not some man who used me only to discard me once he’d had his fill.”
Her eyes glowed a bright cobalt. “You can’t change what happened in the Auction, Aileen. You’re here to stay, and what better way to show that coward what he missed than to continue living and becoming so much better than he can ever have?”
And just like that, with a few words from this woman whom I’d only just met and whom I’d already felt kinship with, an epiphany knocked me out. Because becoming a second-timer was not an option, there must have been something else I could do.
What better way to take my revenge than to show Ragnor what he and his League missed?
And so later, right after dinner, I went to Atalon’s office and gave him my decision.
A large moon set in the midnight blue sky, bright and yet shadowed. I stood and stared at it, mind blissfully empty, when I suddenly felt a pair of arms enveloping me from behind, pulling me closer to a hard chest.
I tensed, but then I heard a familiar voice whispering in my ear, “Aileen.”
Shuddering, I huddled closer to the man behind me, feeling warm all over. “You’re here,” I whispered back, burying my head in his strong, corded arms. “How come you’re here?”
He chuckled, a sound I’d never heard from him before. “Of course I’m here,” he murmured, brushing his lips against my hair. “Where else would I be?”
His words filled me with warmth, and for one wondrous moment, I let myself sink into him. He was everything to me, after all. He was home.
But I knew this couldn’t last. There were too many things left unsaid between us. Too much that we needed to talk about. Things I needed to confront him about before I could ever let myself feel like I belonged with him again.
Reluctantly, I pulled back from him and turned around, opening my mouth to speak. But the moment I did, he was no longer behind me. Instead he was a yard away, barely a silhouette, and I was suddenly cold with his absence.
“Come back,” I said, walking toward him.
But the more I walked, the farther away he became. The moonlight above disappeared behind clouds as I started running toward him, heartbeat like a drum in my ears. Fear spread through me when smoke filled the area until I was surrounded by it, unable to tell where he went or where I was.
Frustration and yearning filled me. We needed to talk, and I wished for his warmth ... his strength ... the feeling of belonging with someone, to someone—
But the smoke did not let up, and I felt like I was drowning in it. He was nowhere to be found, and he was letting me drown here, all alone, like the bastard he was.
And no matter the need I had for him, the unbending longing and desire, I couldn’t help but feel utterly miserable as I sank farther into the smoke ...
Even in dreams, Ragnor left me for dead.