Thrall

Chapter Seven

After Gareth left, sleep eluded her. Guilt lay heavy on her heart.

She didn’t want to think about the day, but it haunted her, knowing she had to say a final good-bye to the only person who ever gave a damn about her.

In her mind, she kept replaying the moment the gun went off.

Perhaps if she’d done something different Marilisa would still be alive.

Or if she’d have just gone with them the first night.

Or moved on when she first ran away from Lori.

She rose and got herself a drink of water, sitting at the tiny kitchen table, her mind racing.

There was so much to think about that she couldn’t focus on anything.

It might have been five minutes or hours, but eventually she knew she needed to get dressed.

Chester would arrive soon to drive her to the funeral home.

After showering, she slipped on the only somber piece of clothing she owned, which was a deep purple crushed-velvet dress.

It looked like something to wear at a Renaissance fair, and after that day she never wanted to wear it again. It would be too harsh a reminder.

The thought of food made her want to vomit. Even water settled in her stomach like a heavy stone. By the time Chester arrived, all she wanted to do was crawl back in bed and forget about the day. Clutching a box of tissues, she locked up behind her before walking to the car.

“Hello, Miss Adalyn,” Chester greeted.

“Hello,” she said softly. “Thank you for picking me up.”

“Of course,” he replied. “I’ll be here for however long you need me.”

She tried to smile but failed. Instead, Chester opened the door and she slid into the passenger side. The back door opened and another male vampire settled. She half-turned in her seat and tilted her head.

“Are you the man Lord Huntley sent?” she asked.

“I am, Miss Adalyn. My name is Brennen.”

She stuck her hand out. “Nice to meet you.”

He looked at her hand in surprise and then shook it.

Moments later, they were on their way to the funeral home.

The ride was a blur as her mind kept flashing back to that horrible night, unable to move past it.

Things she could’ve done differently. Said things that convinced Marilisa to leave with her.

If only she had another chance to do that day over.

All too soon, they arrived. Adalyn stared at the funeral home, not wanting to go inside.

She didn’t want to see Marilisa’s still body, but knew she had to gather herself and be brave.

Brennen exited the car and opened her door, holding out his hand for her to take.

He helped her out of the car and then placed his hand on her lower back to escort her inside.

The undertaker from yesterday greeted her with a soft, understanding smile and led her to one of the viewing rooms. Marilisa’s name was on a large placard propped up on an easel, and when she stepped inside, the first thing she saw was everyone from the chateau in attendance.

Lionel. Mrs. Brenda. Amy, Jessie, even the maid whose name she didn’t know. They all came to support her. Tears of gratitude welled up in her eyes, and she tried smiling through them. Just having them here eased some of the pain in her heart.

Then the open casket grabbed her attention. Dread filled her and she wanted to run away. Deny this. Hide her head in the sand. Brennen’s hand nudged her, and with his help she slowly made her way to the beautiful oak and metal coffin.

There she was, looking like she was asleep.

The laugh lines around her eyes crinkled, as if she’d just found something amusing.

A slight blush stained her cheeks. Hands folded demurely over her stomach.

Nothing could hurt her now. Not life, not death, and not the cancer that had been eating away at the tissue it infected. She was at peace. She was safe.

Adalyn touched her unnaturally stiff hand. “Rest now. You were my best friend, and I will miss you terribly.”

She turned to the guests, beyond moved that they would come to a funeral of a woman they’d never met.

“We’re sorry for your loss,” Lionel said.

“Thank you so much for coming. I ... I didn’t expect this.”

Mrs. Brenda walked up and hugged her. “We wanted to support you.”

There was no end to her tears, but somehow, she managed to keep it together through the viewing. When the time came, pallbearers lowered and sealed the lid. Then they lifted the casket and took it out the side door to a white hearse.

“Where will she be buried?” Adalyn asked, looking at Lionel.

“Lord Huntley arranged for her to be placed in his family crypt.”

“What? But ... that makes no sense. He never knew her. She’s not his family.”

“She was family to you, so therefore, important to him.”

The conversation from last night rolled through Adalyn’s mind. “He, uh, asked me to be his thrall.”

“I know,” he replied. “He told me.”

“I don’t know what to say to him.”

Lionel tilted his head. “Do you want to be with him?”

“I...”

She didn’t know how to answer that. Yes. No. Maybe. Having Marilisa laid to rest in his family crypt was a pretty good indication that he was serious about having her be his thrall. Did their one night together count as enough to form a stable relationship for the rest of her life?

Then again, what was she going to do with the rest of her life?

The only idea that had floated in her mind was ridding the world of her evil half-sister.

She had a choice. One path led to her own destruction as she dealt with Lori.

The other hope—or a better description would be a lifeline that her soul recognized.

She blinked and refocused on Lionel. “Before I can answer that, I have to confess that I want revenge. My half-sister sent the men who killed Marilisa, and I want her to pay. Why should she live when my friend lay in her coffin?”

“Your sister’s actions are not your responsibility.” Lionel’s voice was pitched low with care and understanding. “Don’t let her steal your future.”

Adalyn nodded, feeling a little confused. So much had happened in rapid succession that the static messed with her thoughts. It was so jumbled that she found it difficult to focus on a linear timeline.

“Thank you, Lionel,” she said. “I think I need a little time to process everything.”

Lionel smiled. “I expected nothing less.”

“Will Lord Huntley be mad if I take some time to think over his proposal?”

“Not at all. Come, Chester will take you to the cemetery.”

“Okay.”

Brennen escorted her to the car and helped her back into it.

Chester drove them to the cemetery outside the city limits and into the more affluent part where lines of crypts bore the name of the family inside.

Vampires weren’t immortal. They lived longer lives than humans, but they would eventually die.

All the myths associated with vampires had pretty much been debunked when they emerged from the shadows.

Garlic, no. Crosses, no. Holy water, no.

Sunlight, no. That particular falsehood came about from an old movie titled ‘Nosferatu’ when they needed to wrap up the film and didn’t know how to, and then poof! Sunlight.

Chester stopped behind the hearse near a white marble crypt that had the name Huntley chiseled across the top.

She watched in silence as the pallbearers pulled the casket out and then took her into the crypt.

Moments later, it was done, the door of the crypt locked up tight.

Adalyn didn’t know what to do. Stay. Leave. Cry. Curse. Scream.

She did none of those things.

Chester led the way back to the car. “Are we going back to the chateau, miss?”

“I don’t know,” she answered truthfully. “I need to return to the shop. At least to gather my personal stuff.”

Maybe her answer would come as she packed up her stuff. Being a thrall wasn’t how she envisioned her life, but she knew in her gut Gareth wouldn’t let the darkness consume her. Perhaps he was what destiny had given to her. When one door closed, another opened.

“Do you think Lord Huntley might help me sell the shop?”

“I think he’d be happy to help you.”

They hit traffic on the way back into the city and arrived late afternoon.

Chester and Brennen chose to wait in the car so she could assess her tentative decision.

As soon as she stepped into the shop, however, Adalyn sensed she wasn’t alone.

Her sister emerged from the shadows with a sneer etched on her face.

Blonde hair teased within an inch of its life.

Rheumy blue eyes looked like they belonged on an eighty-year-old person.

Too many drugs. Too much alcohol. Lori was just rotten to the core.

“Sister dearest,” Lori spat. “You fucked up my plan.”

“Oh, is that supposed to make me feel bad? You sold me. How could you do that?”

“Easily,” she smirked. “Apex wants to know where his men are.”

“Who’s Apex?”

“The man who owns you.”

“No one owns me,” Adalyn snapped.

“I’ll ask again.” Lori took a step closer. “What happened to his men?”

“They’re dead.”

Lori’s eyes widened. “Excuse me?”

Adalyn lifted her chin. “They. Are. Dead. You sent them here, so their demise is on your head.”

“Bitch!”

Lori raised her hand, as if ready to attack.

“Enough!”

Adalyn jumped. She hadn’t noticed another person was with them.

A man stepped forward from the darkened corner, and maliciousness radiated off him.

Tall, bald, and tattoos all over his head and face.

Stone-cold evil seeped from his dark eyes as he looked her up and down, assessing her like she was his property.

“I find it hard to believe that someone as small as you could kill two of my men.”

Adalyn lifted her chin. “I don’t know why. They bleed just like any other men when you shoot them.”

An ugly, smile carved out his mouth. “I’ve always loved my women bloodthirsty. But, if you killed my men, I’ll eat my hat.”

Her gaze flickered up to his bald head, and he smirked.

“Now,” he continued. “What really happened with my men?”

The last thing she wanted to do was implicate Lord Huntley, nor did she want to bring attention to Chester and Brennen waiting in the car.

A diabolic idea suddenly formed, and it was an opportunity she couldn’t pass up.

She stared at Lori. Deep in her heart, only vengeance burned, and she acted on the promise she made to herself. To make Lori pay.

“Tell him the truth.”

Confusion lit up Lori’s face. “What?”

“Tell him,” Adalyn stressed. “Tell him what you told me.”

“Uh.” A nervous laugh escaped her sister, sounding guilty as hell. “What are you talking about?”

Adalyn wiped her expression, smoothing everything out to portray an air of innocence. “About our plan.”

“What plan?” Apex demanded, glancing back and forth between them.

“Lori came up with the idea to bring you here and kill you,” Adalyn said in an almost childlike voice. “Like how she killed those two men last night.”

Lori blinked as comprehension struck. “No, no, no, no. You’re lying! She’s lying, Apex. I would never—”

“But you said he didn't need more money because of the lockbox.”

Lori's mouth dropped open. Desperation colored her tone as she looked between Apex and Adalyn. “I didn't say that, Apex. You have to believe me.”

“What are you waiting for, Lori? Shoot him.”

“Shut the fuck up, you lying—”

Apex raised his gun. Lori had a split second to comprehend her death, and then the gun fired and a bullet lodged in her skull. Dead before she hit the ground.

Adalyn stared at the body of her sister, feeling nothing but relief. Did it make her a bad person that she had caused Lori’s death?

“Clever,” Apex said, amusement in his tone. “I know she didn’t kill them because I was fucking her all night. Or I was watching someone fuck her. So, the audacity to find a solution to both our problems was genius. Now tell me, where are my men?”

“I didn’t lie about that,” she replied. “They’re dead. After they killed my friend, I grabbed the gun we kept behind the counter and shot them. Then I called a friend to help dispose of their bodies.”

Apex cocked his head as he studied her. Adalyn made sure to stare him in the eyes and not act like everything was made-up. He walked up to her, his cold gaze assessing.

“You know, I believe you,” he said.

Then before she could even blink, his fist came up and punched her across her cheek. Pain exploded through her skull right before darkness consumed her.