Chapter 8
Iwas wrenched awake by the sound of screaming. I shot up in bed, momentarily disoriented. The only light was a faint trickle of moonlight from the windows. I blinked, trying to gather myself. Vampires. I was in a vampire manor.
Pulled, as if in a trance, I staggered from beneath the covers to the door, pulling it open. The screams continued, not as loud as they’d felt when I’d first awoken. Still enough to make my stomach churn. To make the hairs on my arms lift.
I hesitated at the end of the hallway. It was probably safer to remain in my room with the door locked. But I couldn’t help myself as I rushed through the manor.
I descended to the lower levels, emerging onto the landing that overlooked the entry.
It was a chaotic scene. Bodies blurred like bees in a hive, fussing over a writhing mass on the tile floor.
A person. I swallowed down bile. Whoever it was, they were near unrecognizable, more pulp than anything, writhing and screaming—the kind that couldn’t be ignored, that begged for relief.
Laurent was there, calling orders. He froze, then whirled in my direction. “Miss Shaw.”
I remained unmoving, caught up in his regard. His expression hardened. “You shouldn’t be out of bed. Return to your room.”
I caught sight of Vittorio rushing through the frenzy with a stack of bandages. And Marco, stepping in to hold the thrashing figure still. Others were jumping in to offer their assistance.
“I… Can I help?” I took a step forward.
“You are nothing but a liability, Miss Shaw. Zola! Remove her from my sight.”
I flinched. It would have hurt less if he’d slapped me.
Zola materialized beside me, a hand on my elbow. “Come, darling. It is better if you do not see this.”
She guided me back down the hallway and up another set of stairs. The screams grew fainter.
“What… What was that?”
“We found Hassan.”
“Hassan?”
“He went missing a few weeks ago. He’s lucky to be alive, though, he has suffered a great deal.”
“The blood dealer?”
“Dead. But the dealer’s not responsible for this. He was just a middleman.”
She probably wouldn’t be telling me this if she thought I was a threat.
“What happened to him? Hassan?”
“Tortured, drained, mutilated.” A shiver raced through me. “Do not let it trouble you, darling. Such knowledge doesn’t make for restful sleep, hmm?”
We stopped outside my door.
“Zola?” My vision blurred.
“Yes, darling.”
“Can… Can I have a hug?” The question shocked me. But after what I’d just seen…
“Oh, you sweet child. Here.” She pulled me into her arms.
I fought back the moisture gathering in my eyes. “Thank you for being nice to me.”
“No tears,” she scolded.
“I know,” I sighed, pulling away. “I’m trying to be strong.”
“I know, darling. I know. Now, go to bed. I’m needed downstairs.”
She didn’t wait for me to go through the door. One moment she was there, the next, she was gone.
Sleep didn’t find me for the rest of the night, even when I took two more painkillers to ease my aching throat.
I tossed and turned, my mind churning over the way Laurent acted around me.
Most of the time he was cold, detached, emotionless—but occasionally, something else flickered beneath the surface.
Was it only his hunger, his desire to drain me, that possessed him to be a little warmer, a little softer?
It was dangerous—I knew that—but I let myself think back to those moments when he’d given me the shirt off his back to stop my bleeding. When he’d carried me against his bare chest. The feel of my cheek against his skin. The way he’d held me, careful but possessive.
His words haunted me most.
My skin turned hot. What a stupid thing, to want to feel wanted. To want to feel…coveted. Like I was worth something to someone. A single tear slipped free. I was weak. So weak. So dumb for letting myself feel a shred of desire over his greed.
One of the most powerful vampires in the world wanted me.
Me. And here I was, allowing my soul to preen over the thought.
The dark, damaged part of me didn’t care that it was for the wrong reasons, didn’t care that it was twisted.
That broken part gladly accepted whatever it could get, because it was a hollowed shell never worth wanting.
Another tear fell.
I hissed, squeezing my feathered pillow with my fist. I was stronger than this. I’d gotten through worse by focusing on what I could control, not dwelling on what destroyed me. I couldn’t let Laurent’s cruelty break me down.
Taking a sharp breath, I swiped at my tears and forced myself to stop. Then I just laid there, numb.
Zola barged into my room at dawn, tray in hand. I staggered from bed, shocked by the sudden intrusion. “Ah, darling, good morning. How are you feeling?”
She set the tray on the table. It was piled with bandages and medical supplies.
I eyed it warily. “A little better, I think?”
I no longer felt the bone-tired weakness, but there was still pain. My hand lifted to my neck.
“Good. Sit. I’ll change your bandages.” She took my shoulders and guided me into a chair. “Relax. I was merely caught off guard the first night I saw you. I’m not going to finish Henrietta’s job.”
I sputtered. “That’s not…”
But that’s exactly what I’d been thinking.
Zola hummed and set to work, hissing when she beheld the ruin of my skin.
I forced down the lump in my throat. “That bad, huh?”
“I’ve seen worse.”
“Is that supposed to comfort me? How do vampires get away with this kind of thing anyway? How come tons of people aren’t walking around with bite marks covering their necks?”
“We clean up after ourselves.” She took in my confused expression and added, “Our saliva has healing properties, darling. We close the wounds we create.”
“But—“
“Henrietta couldn’t, obviously. Nor would she have.”
“But then—“
“There is no one who can do this for you. One lick, one taste of your blood, even your scabbed skin, and there would be no stopping.”
“Oh.”
“Trust me, darling. Laurent isn’t leaving you like this just to prove a point.” A dark laugh bubbled up from my chest. I wasn’t so sure of that. “Yes, all right, I see your meaning.”
“It doesn’t bother you?”
She reached for fresh gauze. My bloodied discards were piled on the tray.
“No. I am old. Slips of control are beneath me. Besides, we’re friends, remember?”
I bit my lip, trying to keep a smile at bay.
When I was younger, I hadn’t had any real friends.
Too many of my classmates scorned me for my worn and dirtied clothes or my lack of hygiene.
Once I was on my own, those things changed, but I still didn’t allow myself get too close to anyone.
Too many years had made me wary and shy.
Ania had been the only person successful in breaking me out of my shell, which had taken months.
A knock sounded just as Zola gathered everything up. “Ah. That will be Vittorio with your breakfast. Come in,” she called, lifting her voice. “We’re finished.”
Vittorio strode in with another tray. I shifted, suddenly uncomfortable with this level of attention. The motion had Zola lifting a brow in question.
Vittorio set the tray before me. I took a single look and—burst into tears.
“Oh, darling!” Zola set her tray on the carpet and reached over to pat my hair. Through my tears, I saw a wide-eyed and now uncomfortable expression on Vittorio’s face. “She does this a lot, Vit. Don’t take it personally.”
“I’m… I’m sorry,” I managed, furiously swiping at my face. “It’s just… He made… He made me cinnamon rolls. I didn’t think…”
“Miss Shaw said she wanted cinnamon rolls,” Vittorio defended, looking as if my tears were evidence of an awful act he’d committed and wished to absolve himself of.
“They’re perfect,” I said, voice watery, mastering myself. I really needed to stop this. I took a deep breath and determined never to cry again. Vittorio studied me. “Really, they are. They look amazing. And—“ I took in the whole tray. “Coffee, too? Okay, why do I want to hug you right now?”
I wasn’t usually a hugger. The opposite, actually.
I’d never been cuddly with the few guys I’d dated.
Ania had warmed me up to it. She and I hugged a lot.
She must have realized how starved of touch I was.
Once she got me hooked on them, I handed her hugs whenever the occasion called for it.
And now, apparently, I was doing the same with vampires when they were nice to me.
Vittorio took several quick steps backwards.
“She likes to hug,” came Zola’s quiet warning, to which I snorted. Because really, I didn’t.
Vittorio merely looked mortified.
I burst into giggles, throwing a hand over my mouth. My emotions were all over the place.
“I think almost dying has made me unstable. You should both probably go. I’m unhinged. I might even hug you to death. Get it?”
Zola huffed, shaking her head. “That will be all, Vittorio. Thank you.”
“Yes, madame. Good day. Good day, Miss Shaw.”
When I next blinked, he was gone, and Zola was lifting her tray of my discarded gross things.
“I’ll be back in a bit. If you’re feeling up for it, I’ll give you a tour of the house. I’d take you shopping but, well, that bandage is a bit frightening.”
“That’s okay. Actually I think I’ll have a bath after breakfast. I’m feeling gross.”
“Of course, darling. I’ll be back afterward.”
I waited for her to go before cutting into my cinnamon roll. The frosting oozed into the swirled layers. I placed the first bite on my tongue and closed my eyes, groaning. Perfection.
I added cream and a teaspoon of sugar to my coffee, taking small sips.
For now, maybe I could pretend this was just a fancy vacation. Something I’d enjoy for a few days before figuring out what came next. I couldn’t remain captive here. It went against everything inside me.