Chapter 4 #2
“Of course. I’m one of their biggest financial supporters. Why wouldn’t they?”
“You’re a bastard,” I spew, refusing to back away from the slap that follows, this time knocking me several feet backward.
“Watch your mouth, Violet. That is your last warning.” I refuse to look away. I’m already dead. What else can he do?
Without another word, Harrison turns us around, moving back toward the Garden District. Other than mental torture, I’m not sure what our little field trip was about. We move through the forest, back to the street, without seeing any humans. I’m grateful.
“I’ll bring you something to eat,” he says as we enter the house, dismissing me with his words. I don’t respond as I work my way to the third floor slowly, concentrating on moving human tempo.
Sitting at the oak desk, I stare into the room that I have no doubt will serve as my prison. Is this the rest of my life? Being a dress-up doll for a psychopath?
I search through the wardrobe, hoping for something more comfortable than a three-hundred-year-old dress, and find nothing. I sense Harrison’s arrival before hearing the knock on the door. He opens the door before I’m able to respond. “I’ve brought food.”
I turn, expecting to see another donneuse. Instead, he’s holding a glass bottle of red liquid. “I couldn’t sacrifice another donneuse at the moment. I’m short for now.” He laughs at his words. “I brought you a bottle fresh from the donor.”
The smell slaps me in the face. I fight the urge to jerk it from his hands. “Thank you,” I say, keeping my voice calm.
“First, you must do something for me.”
I swallow the lump that’s formed in my throat. “What?”
He throws a wad of fabric onto the bed. “Put this on.” I pick up the small item, realizing it’s a nightgown. Not one I would ever wear. There’s barely any fabric, and what’s there won’t provide any privacy. He turns, leaving me with the clothing. “Come downstairs when you’re dressed.”
“Why?” I ask. He exits without an answer.
I suddenly want nothing more than to keep the layers of ruffles and fabric on my body.
My mind reels over the possible scenarios of what’s about to happen.
I slip into the outfit, feeling more vulnerable than ever.
Fighting the tears for the tenth time today, I exit the room, slowly walking to the first floor.
“Perfect timing,” Harrison says as I stand nearly naked in the foyer. He opens the front door, revealing a man who looks my age.
“Please, come in.” The man follows directions, moving past Harrison and into the sitting room.
“What a lovely specimen,” the man says, looking my body up and down. “She’ll do quite nicely.”
“Of course she does. I only choose the best,” Harrison answers. He motions for me to come closer. “May I present Violet Du Four? Violet, this is Cyrus Knight.” I don’t know what’s happening or how to react.
Cyrus turns his attention toward me. “I see you dyed her hair. Why must you always do that?” He glances at the portrait. “She’s not coming back, you know.”
My maker ignores his words. “Violet is new but mostly in control.”
In control? I killed a woman today. How is that in control? Cyrus steps in front of me. He sniffs the air around me and holds his hand toward me. “Palm,” he demands.
I look at Harrison, not sure what the hell is happening. “Do as he asks,” my maker demands.
I place my hand into Cyrus’s. He gently raises it to his lips and kisses it. Stepping closer, he smells my skin, starting at the wrist and moving up my arm slightly. “She still smells human.”
“That will wear off,” Harrison answers.
“How much?” Cyrus asks.
“Twenty thousand.”
Twenty thousand? Am I being sold like cattle?
Cyrus continues sniffing, this time moving to my neck and hair. “I’ll take her. For future reference, Chamberlin, don’t dye their hair. It makes them harder to sell.”
“What’s happening?” I gather the courage to ask, looking between my maker and the stranger. Harrison is in front of me a heartbeat later. He raises his hand to slap me, but is blocked by Cyrus.
“She’s mine now,” Cyrus warns. Harrison steps away, bowing his head slightly. Cyrus hands more money than I’ve seen in my life to Harrison before offering me his elbow.
“You’re selling me?” I ask.
“Nothing personal, my dear. You just weren’t quite what I was looking for after all.” Harrison moves to the door, opening it wide for the two of us.
I thought waking up a vampire was terrifying. This is worse. “I won’t go with you.” I pull my arm away from his.
“I’m afraid you don’t have a choice,” my buyer answers. “I bought and paid for you. It’s a done deal. You belong to me now.”
“I am not livestock that can be bought or sold!” I argue.
Cyrus laughs. “I’m afraid that’s exactly what you are.” I turn to run, making it to the riverbank in record time. I stop, trying to figure out exactly where I am. An arm wraps around my throat and throws me to the ground without hesitation.
“Do not run from me again,” he whispers. “I will not be as nice the next time.”
“You’re a vampire?”
“Did he not teach you anything?” Cyrus asks.
I shake my head. “Yesterday, or at least I think it was yesterday…I was human.”