CHAPTER 7: Trying to Resist You
This time, when I wake up, the bedroom Drew has placed me in is much brighter. I can tell that the sunlight is hitting the thick curtains right in front of them because that's the only way I can see the room at all. Drew hasn't been kidding about the decreased sight resulting from vampirism. Now that I think about it, don't vampires burn under sunlight too?
No. No, I remember throwing myths like that to my long-time friend, Brock. Brock is the owner of the nightclub, Comet, and has been a vampire for thousands of years. No specific number, since the playboy likes to keep that a mystery, but it's enough experience to know what being a vampire is like. Brock has told me that vampires can survive in sunlight. In his words: Nua's dominant species will be fine against the little light that brings life to little flowers.
So, if I'll be fine in the sunlight, that means I'll be fine to leave.
I throw the blankets off and grab the check on the bedside table. I don't care how good Drew is in bed; I can't stay with him. I've saved his life, became a possibly immortal vampire, fucked him, and gotten paid for it; I'm done. And, god, that makes me sound like a prostitute. Imagine me, the princess of Isle Kingdom, being nothing more than a paid fuck to Drew.
All the more reason to leave.
I only find a fluffy white bathrobe in the closet, so I'll wear it until I find my clothes. My phone, wallet, and keys are in my jacket, so the jacket is first.
And my motorcycle. Oh shit, is it still at the beach?
I rush out of the bedroom and call for the first maid I see. "Excuse me, where are my clothes and motorcycle?"
The maid bows and fetches my freshly cleaned jacket, socks, and boots. She also brings a short, elegant dress I don't own. I own it now, says the maid, since my blouse, pants, and underwear have been ruined.
I thank the maid with a blush and scurry to the bedroom to change.
My phone says it's almost one o'clock in the afternoon. Wow, I've slept in. Also on my smartphone screen are several calls and texts from Max demanding where I am. I send him a text to say I'm fine and not to call me before making sure my phone and wallet are zipped up in their pockets. At least the green dress fits and matches the jacket and boots.
All that's left are my keys.
When I come back out to the hallway, a dapper man with jet-black hair and a leather jacket stands by the door. Pinched between his fingers are my keys. I recognize him from the night before. It's Rosenfield, Drew's assistant.
"Afternoon, Princess Maybelline," his voice crackles like a fireplace. "Alyssa told me you were looking for your bike keys. So," he holds them up, "here they are."
I slowly accept and pocket them. "How are you involved in this?"
"I drove you and Drew to the villa last night. Don't worry, Princess; I didn't see you naked. When I got to the beach, Drew had you in his blazer and arms. He almost died again when he had you drink his synth. I had to share the one I was drinking so he could carry you to the car."
Synth, synthetic blood. Because I can drink that now. Fuck. "Why did Drew feed me synth?"
"Because your body needed blood to complete the transformation. Without it, you would have died."
"And Drew used his bottle…on me?"
Rosenfield shrugs. "I don't know why he did it either. As you know, Drew is trying to find the answer. He would have let you die if you were just another person to him but—well, you're not. You're special."
"Maybe he wanted to thank me for saving his life."
"Doesn't explain why he went after you in the first place."
"He wanted to take me on a date."
"Must be a date worth dying for."
It isn't. Nothing is worth this.
Well, maybe except Drew's life. I haven't asked for this madness, but if it's the price I pay for saving him, then I guess I can endure it. I hate the man, but I'll hate myself if I let him die. "Where is Drew, anyway?"
"He has a meeting he couldn't miss. Usually, I'd be with him because it's an important one, but he wants me to look after you."
"I'm as important as this meeting?"
Rosenfield shoots me a sly smile. "Like I said: you're special."
I huff. "Well, would you kindly tell him that I don't need your guardianship? You can lead me to my bike, and I'll be on my way."
Rosenfield smirks and nods. "Follow me."
He leads me to the looping driveway at the front of the villa. The rain clouds are long gone, making way for clear skies and the bright sun.
My motorcycle is parked at the curb with my helmet on the seat. When I switch on the engine, I see that the gas tank is full. But it had been halfway through the last time I'd seen it.
"Hope you don't mind me taking your bike for a ride last night," Rosenfield comments. "I could've had it towed from the beach, but I couldn't resist driving it myself. It's a sweet ride. You can go great distances with this."
I sigh. "Yeah, that was the plan. Anyway, thanks for not leaving it at the beach."
"You're welcome. We'll talk later about getting you synths. You don't have to worry about paying for them. Drew will take care of it."
"How generous." It's the least he can do for turning me. "Thanks again, Rosenfield. It's nice to meet you."
"Same here. I'll see you later."
"Why?"
"I'm Drew's assistant, remember?"
"Drew and I aren't involved. If he wants a formal goodbye, then we can set one up. But after that, we're done with each other."
Rosenfield gives me another sly smile. "Got it."
"You don't believe me."
"It doesn't matter what I believe. What matters is what happens next," he pats the bike's speedometer. "Have a safe trip, Princess Maybelline."
I don't say anything this time. The helmet goes over my head, the bike turns, and I drive away. I may have never visited this villa before, but my bike has zoomed through its street many times, so I know the way back to my house. Instead of going home, though, I head to the first place I think of when I want comfort.
"I'll have the number one with fries on the side. No onions."
Burger Stuff.
I don't give a shit if Drew doesn't like fast food. I like it and need it right now, so he can go fuck himself.
After grabbing my takeout bag from the drive-thru window, I take my meal and drive it to my favorite overlook. I bite and swallow my cheeseburger as I stare at the beach and the kingdom at the same time. A magnificent sight, and a perfect way to get away from it all.
I manage to settle some of the turmoil in my head until I realize that my lunch isn't filling me. Fast food isn't healthy, I admit that, but as a human, I will still get satiated from eating it. But I'm a vampire now, and this usually filling lunch isn't filling anymore.
I don't have a choice. If I want to keep my eyes from going red and my fangs from coming out, I need blood.
Even so, I wait a little longer. I stay at the outlook, away from everything and everyone, and let the sun give me whatever warmth I can get on this cold autumn day. I wonder if I'm as sensitive to the cold as Drew is now. I don't feel the need to cover myself more than I already am. At least that part of me is still the same.
What's different is that the roars of the ocean and the rustling of the trees sound much crisper in my ears. I don't just sense the squirrels and the birds; I also hear their breathing and, when close enough, heartbeats. I'm a predator now, and my senses have adapted to that. If I get the urge to kill for food or sport, I'd have to be put down like a beast.
Maybe I will be if I get too hungry.
I call Rosenfield, who has texted me during my lunch, and arrange the logistics of delivering the synth to my bedroom. After that, I continue to sit in silence on my bike, thumbing the check in my pocket.
~.~
When I come home later that evening, Max rushes out of the living room and looks me over. "May, finally! I was worried sick! Where the hell were you?"
"I was at Drew's house. Can we talk in my room?"
"Sure! And you'll love what you'll find in there."
My brows furrow at Max, and he simply waves me forward.
"Come on, I'll show you."
When we arrive at my bedroom, I get stunned at the doorway. Not only are there large boxes wrapped in shiny paper and ribbons, but there are also bouquets of red roses strewn across the room. "What the hell?"
"I know," Max closes the door behind us. "A guy in a leather jacket waved a paper with your signature on it asking to deliver this stuff to your room. I let him, but I checked the stuff and the room itself to make sure he didn't plant anything."
"Is that also why you told Drew where I was last night?"
"He and his guards are scary, alright?" Max throws his hands in the air. "They seem like the type of people that always get what they want because they'll do anything to get it. I'm surprised you're even calling King Andrew by…something else. I've been to other kingdoms, May. That guy has a reputation. I probably wouldn't have told him where you were despite that, but he did genuinely look worried when I told him you took off. I figured, okay, he's dangerous, but he also seems to care about you, so I'll let him know where you are and hope I don't regret it later."
Drew caring about me can't and shouldn't be possible, so I ignore that. "What kind of reputation?"
"He—hold on," Max searches the room once more before coming back with a quieter voice, "there are rumors that he's killed people, May. You know, when people don't let him have his way. There are stories of people who criticize or defy him either disappearing or being found so mutilated, no one can tell how they died. The only hint we get about these cases is that they've messed with King Andrew."
"Those are just rumors, Max. You can't believe everything you hear."
"These aren't just hearsay, May. Hell, they're not coincidences either! Whether or not you believe King Andrew is involved in hurting his adversaries, you can't deny that bad things tend to happen to people he doesn't like."
I guess Max has a point there, but I'll have to do my own research to verify this.
"I had no idea the guy you hooked up with was King Andrew," Max pinches his nose. "Damn, May, how the hell did that happen? Didn't he reject your proposition to invest in Allistar?"
"Well," I unfold the check out of my jacket, "Drew may have not invested in the foundation, but he has donated to it."
Max takes the check, and his eyes bug. "Woah, he's willing to give you that much? That's really good!" Then he pales. "Wait, did he give this to you before or after you had sex?"
My face flushes as I take the check back. "That's none of your business."
"Oh, hell, May."
"Look, how I got the check doesn't matter! The fact is that I have it, right? If it clears, then we can start petitioning for the education our people desperately need!"
"I know, I know, I'm not judging. It's just, wow. I never thought you'd do that."
I debate between slapping or yelling at him. Then I realize that I can't tell my brother exactly how I got this check. The whole arrangement stems from secrecy. One word out of me, and not only is the money forfeit but—if Max is correct—my life and his as well. I may not have done that research yet, but I do remember Drew mentioning how he debated killing me to stop my vampiric transformation before sparing me out of mercy. That mercy will immediately dry up if his secrets are exposed.
So, I sigh and say instead, "I'm not just the president of the foundation, Max; I'm also the princess of our kingdom. I'll do whatever it takes to provide for our people." At least that's not far from the truth.
"I know, and I'm kind of proud, you know," Max pats my shoulder. "I don't want to know the details, but I am impressed how you seduced the Vampire King of all people into giving you money. A lot of people think you're pretty, and you use that to your advantage."
"Having a visible cleavage helps."
"Right," Max cringes. Then he looks over my gifts, most likely synths. "Are you going to see King Andrew again?"
"I don't know."
"As effective as sleeping with him is, I don't think you should do it often. It's like working with fire. It can cook your meals and keep you warm, but it can also burn you if you're not careful."
"I know, Max. I'll handle it."
"You always do. And I know people are going to assume anyway, but I'm guessing you're not going to mention how you got that check in the board meeting tomorrow?"
"It's a donation from King Andrew Hendercort; nothing strange about that." It's not like many people know how he and I interacted at the ball last Friday. The rooms had dim lighting, loud music, and people elaborately disguised with masks.
That ball had been last Friday, two days ago? Wow, it feels like a lifetime since then.
"Works for me," Max shrugs. "Let's deposit the check and get things started in the board meeting tomorrow. I'm sure everyone has a lot to discuss now that we can actually do the impossible."
"Yeah," I glance at a bouquet of roses on top of the sparkling green foil, "the impossible."
