Chapter 10:
Laila waited until she was sure the Count and his son were asleep before emerging from her room the next morning. She was up all night thinking of the mass grave that had been brought up at dinner. They found bodies. So many more than she had realized. Would they be able to trace them back to her? Would they find what she left behind when she had left? So many questions, and there was no way for her to keep tabs on the story. The newspaper wasn't delivered to the castle (and ever if it was, she wouldn't be able to read it very well) and she hadn't even known there was a computer around until last night. The only way she could possibly keep up with what was going on was through the Count, and she did not want him prying too deeply.
Laila groaned and made her way to the kitchen to get some breakfast. She didn't see Daniel, so she helped herself to a bit of toast with butter and jam and a nice hot cup of green tea with lemon. She quietly ate her breakfast in silence and solitude, her mind still buzzing. What if the Count already knew? He had gone through her things when she first got here. Laila shook her head, quickly dismissing the idea. There was no way he would be able to know, especially not from going through her things. There hadn't been anything in there to tie her to it.
He strongly suspected her at the very least, though. She could tell by the smug looks he had given her. That arrogant, all-knowing look in his eyes. The boastful, teasing tone in his voice. The way his full lips curled into a smirk.
Laila's thoughts trailed to the feed last night. She hadn't realized how small she was compared to his stature until he pulled her to knew that if he wanted to, he could easily do serious harm to her and she was thankful that she hadn't provoked his temper yet. His face was incredibly handsome with almost perfect facial symmetry. He had pale, full lips above a strong jaw and chin. His nose was long and pointed, but proportionate to the rest of his long face and well placed. His eyes were his most distinctive: the had a slight inward slant that gave him an intense look, even when he smiled. They had an aged look about them, which Laila supposed was expected from a vampire. For all she knew, he could be thousands of years old. There was something else about his eyes, though. It was more than the beautiful crystal blue color, there was something dark lurking beneath the surface. Maybe it didn't even have anything to do with being a vampire; she didn't know, it was too early to tell.
She remembered how he had pulled her close and how she had felt his body through their clothes. He was very well built: his muscles were firm and she couldn't help but wonder if he actively worked out or if being a vampire just made you unbelievably ripped. Her mind started to wander and she wondered what he looked like with his shirt off...
Laila sat up straight and shook her head, trying to shake the thoughts of the Count from her mind. He was her captor. She shouldn't be having these thoughts about him. She had to stubbornly admit, thought, that he was attractive. Was it considered Stockholm syndrome if she was attracted to him before he locked her up?
Laila finished her toast and pushed herself away from the table. She had to stop thinking about the Count like this. Besides, she had work to do anyway.