CHAPTER 12 AILEEN
CHAPTER 12
AILEEN
The moment I set foot inside my bedroom, exhaustion washed over me. The bed looked so tempting, it took everything in me to drag my feet to the washroom for a much-needed shower.
After a quick shower, I sat down on the bed and ignored my moaning muscles willing me to lie down and get a good, deep sleep. I had something to do before that.
Staring at the clock hung on the wall, I let my mind roam.
Like every time I tried to calm or empty my mind, the first thing I thought about was the one thing I always pushed away.
Ragnor.
Despite my aversion to thinking about him at all, I let myself sink into those thoughts. I let myself remember his face, his eyes, his lips. In my head, I could vividly see his beautiful body standing right before me, accompanied by a low growly voice murmuring, “Henderson.”
Slowly, I nudged at my mind to pry away from him, gently led it to think about the large plain of wilted grass I’d been seeing often nowadays, and thought of the dream I had of Ragnor before, when I saw him at a distance in this field, calling to me.
If I dreamed of this again, I wondered, what would I do?
I shook my head and grunted. “That went well,” I muttered grumpily. It seemed that no matter what I did, I couldn’t calm my mind, since it always went back to Ragnor.
Meditation was definitely not for me.
I fell on my back, looking at the ceiling. Now what? If I couldn’t empty my mind or focus on anything but Ragnor when I was alone, how would I be able to control my powers?
“Maybe I don’t need meditation,” I thought out loud. Considering I’d managed to stop time before without using meditation, was it really necessary?
Sitting back up, I determinedly looked at the clock and willed everything to stop.
The clock hands froze.
Heart quickening as pain crawled into my head, I focused on the need to keep the frozen moment intact. In my head I counted out how long I could keep this concentration. But once I reached five seconds, the pain in my head became unbearable.
I could feel the blood trickling from my nostrils but ignored it, forcing myself to hold on, to not let the time get away from my grasp. You can do it, Aileen. Come on ...
A spasm took over my body, shaking me out of my focus, and I crumbled down on the bed, shuddering and sweaty, with an insistent pounding in my temples and a terrible nosebleed.
Time resumed, and as it did, the pain slowly subsided.
And I knew that I couldn’t do it like this anymore. Headaches and nosebleeds might not be life threatening, but I had a bad feeling every time they occurred when I tried using my powers.
I had to find an alternative way.
And since the book, A Sacred Past , did not cover anything remotely similar to these side effects of using one’s powers, there was only one solution.
As if she’d read my mind, Eliza appeared in the field under the purple sky the moment I fell asleep. She was standing only an inch away from me in the wilted grass, peering down at me.
“Let me guess,” she said as I was about to speak. “You couldn’t meditate to save your life.”
Irritated, I glared at her. “If you guessed this would be the case, then why did we go that route?”
Eliza sighed. “Because it’s the easiest path to controlling your powers,” she said quietly. “But since it’s not working, we’ll have to do it the hard way.”
“Which is?” I prompted.
“Disruption.” Eliza gave me a somewhat twisted grin. “Magical powers are all related to one’s mental state. When you meditate, you gain easy access to your magical powers, which results in better control but a decreased output. Disruption, on the other hand, is all about intentionally interrupting your mental stability, pulling yourself into chaos, from which you can access your powers. The downside of this method is both its volatility and lack of control.”
“So basically, it’s about causing myself distress,” I surmised darkly. “Sounds healthy.”
“I told you meditation was the easier way.” Eliza shrugged. “But since you’re incapable of that, you’ll have to take this path.”
I made a face. “The whole point is controlling my powers, right?” I said, folding my arms. “If we go the disruption route, doesn’t it mean I won’t be able to control my powers at all?”
Eliza gave me a strange look. “You’ll be able to control your powers if you learn to harness the chaos.”
I snorted. “You make it sound like I’m in Mortal Kombat .”
She seemed confused. “What’s that?”
“Never mind,” I murmured, scowling. “So. What should I do?”
“Let’s begin practice,” she said with a barely discernible smirk. “I hope you don’t have any plans for tomorrow, ’cause you’re going to be dog tired.”
I lay in bed for a while after waking up from my session with Eliza. I was as dog tired as Eliza said I would be, but while I had a couple of more hours to sleep, I chose not to.
Because now that I was getting better at controlling my powers, I couldn’t help but think of the new possibilities that opened up for me. Since everything pointed to me being a Sacred, didn’t it mean I could choose a new path for myself?
When I was first given the Imprint by Ragnor, I felt like I had no choice but to sign the League System Agreement to become a Leagued vampire because otherwise, I wouldn’t have been told anything about what being a vampire entailed in terms of dangers and physical capabilities. But what if I chose to breach the contract and become Leagueless? With my powers and current knowledge, I could, hypothetically, live as a roaming vampire and do whatever I wanted ...
But that would mean starting from scratch.
Again.
And someone like me, living without a carefully cultivated routine was a no-go. I needed stability. A monster in a cage was better than a rampant one.
What was my other option, then? Telling anyone else about my powers made me feel queasy. I had a disturbing feeling that disclosing my newfound magic to anyone, be it my new Lord or friends, was a recipe for disaster. It was already enough that Eliza knew about it. What would I achieve by having someone else know?
Maybe it will raise your social standing, a voice murmured in my head. But was that what I wanted? What the hell did I want, anyway?
I’d been aimlessly going along with everything thrown my way ever since Atalon bought me, or even before—since the moment I became a vampire. I’d been too busy trying to survive this new world I was thrust into, both mentally and physically, to think about what it was that I wanted to do now.
When I was human, all I wanted was to live an unassuming, simple life of freedom. I wanted my only worries to be about whether I would ever get a raise or if my apartment was clean enough.
Now? The future felt shrouded in mist, making me feel more lost than I’d ever felt.
Ragnor gave you purpose, that annoying voice from before whispered in my mind. Ragnor made you feel like you’re home. Like you have a place to belong. Like you could find yourself, find your purpose in life, if you just stuck close enough ...
My bedroom ceiling turned blurry as tears filled my eyes. I hated that voice. I hated that it was most likely right.
Even if I wished with everything in me that it wasn’t.
The suite was dark when I walked into the living room in the morning.
Putting on my sneakers, I was about to leave the suite for work—wishing I could’ve called in sick, I was that tired, but I was unable to do so since vampires didn’t get sick—when I heard something breaking. Whipping around, I scanned the living room, trying to decipher where the sound came from, when it echoed again.
It came directly from Isora’s room.
Heart drumming in my chest, I strode toward her room and flung the door open. Then I froze.
Isora was sitting on the floor, her long hair a mess, spilling down to the floor. Her eyes were open but unseeing as she stared at a letter she was holding. A glass was shattered on the floor, its contents—blood, it seemed—spilled over the marble.
Alarmed, I stepped into the room. “Isora?”
She raised her eyes to me, and I realized tears were streaming down her face silently. “It’s over,” she said, voice raspy. “The grace period is over.”
“No,” I blurted out, shaking my head. My heart was speeding now as my mind struggled to wrap itself around what she just said. “It can’t be.”
She raised the letter for me to take, which I did. Then I had to read it twice to fully comprehend its contents.
Because it couldn’t be.
She still had a month left.
And yet the letter said, “Due to recent circumstances, you’re hereby discharged from your position as a kitchen assistant and expelled from the Common suite. You are to report to Genevieve Danvier of the Vampire Resources offices by the end of breakfast for your new position.”
I knew what this “new position” was. So did Isora.
Because she’d been an Auction second-timer.
And second-timers’ fates were similar to those who weren’t bought in the Auction at all—to become slaves.
Every League treated slaves differently. In the Atalon League, second-timers received a three-month grace period, meaning they could try and prove their worth to their new Lord and the other higher-ups and perhaps avoid this fate.
But Isora’s grace period was cut short.
She did not convince Atalon or anyone else of her worth, apparently.
And now . . .
Panic made it hard to breathe. “I’ll talk to Lord Atalon,” I said quietly, falling to my knees next to Isora’s shuddering body and wrapping my arms around her. “I won’t let them make you a blood slave.”
She didn’t hug me back, but she leaned her head against my shoulder. “It’s no use, Aileen,” she whispered. “This is what happens to all second-timers. I knew that when I participated in the Auction again. I was prepared.”
It didn’t look like she was prepared. “I’m going to make this right,” I said, letting her go and rising back up to my feet. “You’re not going anywhere.”
She gave me a look full of despair that cut through my chest like a knife. “Aileen—”
But I refused to wait to hear her response. I stormed out of the suite and took the escalator leading to the first floor—and to Atalon’s office.
Isora was my friend. I didn’t have many of those, and once I decided someone was a friend, I would do absolutely everything within my power for them.
I refused to let her be taken away.