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Chapter 9!
Sharp tingles fly up my body, pulling me into the world again. My face is slick with sweat, my body is spent, each limb as heavy and bloated as a sandbag. If there's one thing I know for sure, it's that I have no clue where I am. I blink the gunk out of my eyes so that I can see, although thick linen curtains block me from seeing anything past the small cot that I'm in.
It's dark, minus some flickering from a candle in the near most corner. Layers of denim and corduroy blankets insulate both my body and its egregious stench. I throw them off in a rush to feel the affections of the room's cool air. A stinging pain from my neck shocks me into recollection. Cullen bit me and drank my blood. What happened after that? I frantically analyze every inch of my body. All my hair is where it should be, no grotesque nails, no jaundice, no blood dripping from my eyes, no insatiable bloodlust.
I'm not one of the fallen? But how? Am I dead?
Footsteps and a pair of voices interrupt my thoughts. "Did he take too much blood from her?"
I recognize this voice. I try to piece it together and finally picture a tall, blond vampire.
Caius?
"No, both he and the nurse assure me he did not. But she is taking longer than the usual," Demetri replies. I recognize his voice instantly.
"Perhaps it would fare him better to just leave her be," Caius says, "given her apparent worth."
My worth?
"To think he would risk his resolve—"
"I think she's awake," Demetri attempts a whisper. "Nurse."
Heavy footsteps eventually thud across the marble floor. Two dark shadows appear below the linens, indicative of two ankles, foreshadow a grand entrance.
They open and a large woman, a vampire, looks me up and down grievously. She stands stout in a medic cloak, much like that of the doctor in the Selection Hall, except hers is a dark shade of ruby red. The makeup that covers every corner of her face is noticeable, gaudy, and looks to have already endured a full day's wear.
"Come to, now, 'ave we?" her voice carries like none other, shrill and deafening. I merely blink as she walks away. She spares no pause for my questions, saying, "Can't be goin' to our master's quarters without a bit o' bread on your stomach. 'Else I'll be seein' you of'en."
"What?" I ask, confused by the random statement.
"You can't expect to feel fine after a feedin' if you don't eat, child!" she snaps, making marks on her paperwork at a nearby counter. "Goodness, you 'ave a fancy for faintin'?"
"Wait," I mutter, beginning to understand. I slide my legs off the edge of the bed. "Are you saying that I fainted from a lack of food?"
She turns a quizzical eye at me. "Yes? Why else would you think?"
"Because that was her first summoning, she got herself into trouble and Cullen wanted to teach her a lesson, I'm sure," Demetri says from behind the woman. "Though, he went a bit easy if you ask me."
Caius stands wide-eyed off to the side. Why is he here?
They both stand in the doorway of what I have concluded to be the human infirmary.
"You...," I direct my confusion to Demetri with disgust, although my mind is still swimming with confusion.
He responds with a politely sarcastic smile. "Hello, Dimwit, how have you been? You're looking a little pale. You thought you were going to turn into one of the once-humans, didn't you?"
My face falls to a glower.
"I'll take that as a yes." He turns his attention back to the nurse. "Nightingale is still teaching outdated information to their students, I'm afraid," he proclaims, sitting down on the side of another cot and throwing his hand out in reference to me. "That fine dimwit over there is still under the impression that Lord Cullen's bite can turn her into a fallen beast. Which is why she looks so ghastly... Well, that might just be her face."
I ignore his jabs only because of my intrigue.
"How is that possible?" I ask. "There's no cure for the fallen, I thought?"
"Ah, right! No cure. However, there is a newly discovered vaccine for vampires that eliminates that pesky side effect. A rather peculiar substance of modern science, really. They call—"
I stop listening as I process his claim. I'm still alive and I'm still myself.
Slightly enthused by the fact that I won't be turning into a blood-lusting corpse anytime soon, I lift a grateful, yet shaky hand to my neck. My fingertips lightly trace over the swollen punctures that are covered by an arument bandage. The relief dissipates when I realize how pathetic I must have sounded last night.
I told him to kill me. Really, Bella? There goes your big-shot act.
Realizing that Demetri is still talking, I reluctantly tune back in.
"—although, they are extreeeemely expensive. And currently only awarded to elite vampires who own humans. They are trying to make it more available to further curb our losses, but they-"
"Quit rambling," Caius snaps at Demetri as he pushes past his outstretched legs.
"Oh, well do excuse me, your highness!" Demetri growls.
Before I can blink, Caius has closed the distance, kneeling down to analyze me.
"Lord Cullen requests the status of health. No abnormalities? Hints of disease or underlying conditions?" he says to the nurse while mulling over me.
What the hell?
She responds to him, "Nothin' out of the ord'nary, your grace. In need of food is all."
Caius nods and stands, still staring down at me with an odd expression. The waiting game is awkward for a moment or two. I nearly bring up the Selection Hall when he reaches into the sleeve of his robe and pulls out five blue tickets with gold-embossed characters reading "1R."
"Here," he murmurs, holding them out for me to take. "Since you haven't had the chance to work yet, you will be needing these for your rations tonight. Make sure you work enough to eat well while you are here."
I raise a brow, confused by both his and Cullen's apparent concern for my well-being, and also by his very presence in the castle.
I take the tickets cautiously. "Why are you here? Are you not a Selection Hall attendant?"
"First, you must know your place. You will refer to me as 'your grace' from here on out." Caius says, raising a finger. Demetri and I both roll our eyes. Caius, turning a blind eye to the act, indulges my question. "I take great pleasure in commencing the Distribution ceremonies once every year. However, every other day of it, I take pride in myself as the ambassador for Cullen's Province of Sabbanth."
"He's also Lord Cullen's half-brother." Demetri chimes in. "I would know, because he never stops reminding me of it." The comment receives a menacing side-glance from Caius, and a little chuckle from the nurse.
"Really?" I ask.
Given Caius's questionable comments to me in the Selection Hall, I would never have guessed that he was an attendant to Cullen, much less related to him.
"Yes. On behalf of the Great Elders, I swear my allegiance to my younger brother. But don't worry, I would much rather serve him than be in his position."
Strange to think that one would rather serve than be served. I can't help but admire that humility, although I cannot sympathize with his view of Cullen—he is the least deserving of any sort of devotion.
Caius grants me a curt dip of the head, signaling his departure. He turns on his heel to stride gracefully out of the room, glaring at Demetri in the process.
As his footsteps dissolve to light echoes, Demetri scowls.
"Don't like him?" I ask.
"No one does," Demetri mutters, exchanging raised eyebrows with the nurse.
I look between them, trying to catch on. "Why?"
The nurse reaches into the lower cabinet to pull out a blood pack filled with water and a package of fruit. She walks toward me, her noisy heels clacking along the way.
"He jus' puts our lord on edge." She pushes the food and water into my lap and turns to go back to the counter. "Sibling rivalry sorta' thing, I would guess. Although they aren't actually brothers. Just in arms."
"Oh." I look down to my anklet as I drink the blood pack of water. It's still there, looking ratty as ever. The metal pieces are jagged, reminding me of fangs sinking into flesh, as Cullen's did last night—reminding me of my desire for freedom and my hatred of vampires.
My stomach knots in either painful hunger, or bitter anger, and Demetri seems to notice.
"Come, come. Get dressed, eat that, and I will escort you back to the seraglio."
I glance my body, briefly frightened by the fact that I might be naked. To my relief, fully clothed.
"I am dressed...?" I inform him, speaking slowly as if that will make it truer than it already is.
"Ugh. With those rags from the Distribution, still, yes. How unfortunate that Lord Cullen had to see you while in that." He gives me a glance up and down with disgust as he explains. "I escorted Jessica up here earlier with your robes, but you were still unconscious. That girl sat here for quite a long time waiting for you to wake up, in fact. Anyway, they are at the foot, there." He points to the end of my cot.
Jessica never ceases to amaze me.
My chest instantly tightens when I recall what Cullen said about her the night before. Her fate now rests in my hands. If I don't stop trying to escape, he will kill her. I swallow hard as I grab my assigned robes—identical to the ones Emi and Anaya were wearing last night. Finally dressed after countless rounds of trial and error—awkwardly and modestly commenced in the small space behind the curtains—I expose myself. Both Demetri and the nurse look me over for a split second before nodding.
The nurse walks over, applying salve to a crimson ribbon in her hand while on the way.
"Okay now, don't move," she says, reaching up to remove the bandage from my neck. She then replaces it with the ribbon, wrapping it repeatedly before finishing it off with a bow—hiding the twin wounds.
"There. That'll do for now. In the future you will 'ave to do this yourself." she declares.
I nod, inspecting the ends of the ribbon that hang to my knees. Everything about my wardrobe is doll-like, pristine, and somewhat unnecessary. I purse my lips with annoyance. My rebellious nature returns as I start to feel like a certified object.
"We best get a move on, come now," Demetri urges, standing to walk out of the room.
"Do I have to go with you?" I ask somewhat sarcastically, expecting a quippy reply that never comes. I jog to catch up to him, scarfing down the apples and water like I have never been hungry before. My legs still shake, my body is still weak, but I manage to catch up to Demetri.
A long silence ensues until I begrudgingly mutter, "I'm sorry for... you know, being rude."
"Oh, I don't care, particularly. But you really can't go parading your indignant personality around here. Despite our castle having come to a comfortable coexistence, humans are still at the bottom of the hierarchy."
I raise my eyebrows in offense but I listen to him. If any negative opinions about my attitude get back to Cullen, it's now Jessica's life that I have to worry about, and I don't think I can physically endure losing anyone else.
"You must start referring to every vampire here by 'master' or 'my lady,' aside from Lord Cullen and Ambassador Caius, of course. Your regard for your nurse was far too informal. At least pretend to respect your superiors," he lectures.
After a brief pause for a self-contained monologue of internal conflict, I reluctantly respond, "Yes... master."
I recall the awkward run-in with Caius.
"If you don't mind me asking… why does Lord Cullen tolerate Caius serving him if their relationship isn't that great?"
He hesitates a moment, seeming to wonder if he should answer. "Well, you would think our lord has a choice in the matter, but—
Suddenly, Demetri pushes down on my head with his hand.
"Bow," he commands.
The urgency in his voice leaves me with no questions, only compliance. Between bouncing red strands of hair, I make out guards lining the hallway, bent slightly in their own bows. A tall, intimidating figure strides down the center of the passage. His chains, armor, and weaponry rattle with each determined step, while many other steps scurry in follow.
It's Cullen, for sure. And some of his personal attendants?
I catch Demetri out of the corner of my eye as he gives quick bow.
"My Lord, Cullen. Good afternoon!"
The rattling metal echoes to a halt before us, and my heartbeat quickens—the vampires can probably sense it, too.
"Demetri," Cullen greets. "Escorting, are we?"
"Yes, my lord," he replies. "Taking our little troublemaker here back to the seraglio. I am unaware if Caius has relayed the information yet, but she's doing well. In good condition!"
A strange, long pause is left in the conversation, but I lose interest as my weighted eyelids become too much of a distraction. Blackness surrounds the edges of my vision as the pull of gravity grows stronger, pulling me to the floor.
An obstruction curls beneath my torso, preventing me from completing the face plant. I look up to find that it's Cullen's arm that holds me in suspension. His expression is menacing; his eyes lock mine, teetering precariously between annoyance and... concern? Mine, however, can't be anything less than that of a fawn caught in the jowls of a wolf. Although it is dim in the hall, I am able to see Cullen's face clearer than ever before. He would be horridly, strikingly handsome if he wasn't the literal bane of my existence. I furrow my eyebrows and push away, standing upright once more. The fragility of a fawn giving way to a tigress as I remember everything from last night. The pulsing pain in my neck. His manipulation and his cruelty. Now I picture him more like a weasel rather than a wolf. His eyes linger over mine for some time before they pull away to Demetri. The intimidation that has been pooling in them multiplies.
"Good condition, hm?"
"Well… erm, or so I thought," Demetri tilts his head, eyeing me like a house of cards that might fold in on itself at any given moment. The vampire attendants in the background also don't look too pleased.
"Keep your eyes on her. Let me know if she causes any issues. And don't let her fall next time."
"Forgive me, my lord. The missions to the borderlands are today. Hopefully all is well despite the reports?" Demetri changes the subject expertly.
"Abethos has always been on thin ice. Their state has grown more… restless lately," Cullen responds after a moment, taking documents from a nearby scribe. "I am not too optimistic about it."
My interest hinges on 'Abethos'—the neighboring, vampire country closest to Cullen's region of Volterra. Most of the books I read about it were extremely biased, basically calling them hypocritical pacifists for their easy outlooks on blood consumption. The tensions are high between the two countries.
"Well, safe travels, my lord. I will hope for the best," Demetri says as he nudges me expectantly. I tighten my already balled fists.
"Th-thank you, Lord Cullen," I say, the words dropping painfully from my lips. I swear by everything that he smirks, but the only thing I'm absolutely sure of is him and his posse leaving, one clanking boot at a time. Once they are gone, Demetri pats me on the back.
"You are free to move now. Eat more of that, okay?" he orders, gesturing to my bag of fruit. "That was nearly a disaster."
"Disaster? Are you serious? I would have barely hit my head or knees or something."
"Well, you never know... with how fragile you humans are."
I snort. "Yeah, you're right. So fragile. Hopefully this grape doesn't get lodged in my throat and I suffocate to death."
Demetri looks at me like I'm about to keel over and die.
"I'm kidding, master Demetri." I don't understand why he would care anyway, unless keeping the blood supply safe is a life or death mission for these escorts. It's funny how priorities change so suddenly between the Distribution and the seraglio, as well as the dynamic between all of the vampires involved—a vicious world overrun by extremes.
"Calling me 'master' in the snarkiest way possible doesn't accomplish what you intend to accomplish, Dimwit." He sighs, rubbing his temples.
A chuckle snakes its way into my throat. I'm wearing on him.
"No, it does," I assure. "Am I too much of a handful for you? Do you need to pass me off to someone else?"
His dull, hazel eyes sweep over to me, taking me in with a smirk so cruel that I would never have guessed it belonging to Demetri. He crosses his fingers.
"All you see is what I want you to see, darling. It is you who would benefit from other company."
The turn in conversation freezes me up, a raspberry that was halfway to my gaping mouth fumbles in between my fingertips as I picture every terror that his words could possibly allude. He laughs a guttural, stomach-turning laugh.
"Nothing is ever fun and games," he says. "Take what you are given with gratefulness. It is my job to make you feel comfortable here, you know, for heightened blood quality and all that."
I glower at him, realization slapping me in the face. I didn't notice how comfortable I had become with Demetri's happy-sarcastic nature, and how I never once considered it could all be a show. He reads my face and puts his hands on his hips.
"Oh, come now. I can't let you have the upper hand all the time." He winks at me, and suddenly I'm more confused than before. He either speaks sarcasm with much more grace and fluency, or he's playing me in the palm of his hand. Either way, I'm jealous of the skill. Demetri struts down the hallway. "Come on, Dimwit. I have to get you back to the seraglio. I've got other issues to deal with besides the likes of you."
I stand dumbfounded for a moment and follow. The first obstacle is the stairs, of which I do my best to descend while inhaling the gold mine of blueberries stuck at the bottom of the fruit pack. We walk in such an awkward silence—well, awkward for me—because I can't shake this sudden feeling of conflict—one that I never thought I would have. Demetri challenging my trust in his personality made me realize that I actually put trust in it. That I felt a level of comfort around him, and still kind of do.
Why?
Maybe I don't hate all vampires. Individually, anyway. I despise the ones that attack and degrade humans, ones motivated by greed and malice—perhaps that is most of them, or even all of them. But really, my first impressions of Demetri, Caius, and even the castle nurse aren't all that bad. And if I were to pick at straws, Cullen catching me earlier... well, that was almost an amiable act, even though the wounds on my neck beg to differ.
I don't know. The atmosphere feels different here, and I'm not sure if it is the castle or if it is me. It seems different from what I have always assumed, different than what I imagined when glaring at the professors and the faculty from across the room back at the school.
Was everything less dramatic than what I thought?
I look down, studying my juice-stained hand and I frown. Despite the disapproval of every bone in my body, my all-consuming hatred of vampires isn't amounting to a force all-too-consuming.
Why is that?
I think of the doctor back in the Selection Hall. About the water and the blood. Maybe vampires are like us humans, trying to secure their finite resources. I look ahead to Demetri, who seems to be happily humming to himself.
Then again, maybe they are only showing me what they want me to see.
Much love, hope you enjoyed.