Chapter Thirty-Three

Like a George Michael Song

When the Vampires with capes came and undid her shackles, Juliet thought there were two things that could happen. Scenario one was that all four guards would escort her and the old Vampire to the store rooms and watch her like a hawk as she tried on clothes. They would then walk her back to her little medical jail cell and re-shackle her to the bed. This scenario made her very angry, namely because she didn't want to try on clothes in front of the old man, let alone four strange men who all stared at her like she was some sort of caged beast that needed to be sedated. But at least she'd have new clothes, and the girly part in her that made her get manicures every other Tuesday (at the shop run by the nice Vietnamese lady who always offered her white wine and chocolates) was very happy at this prospect.

Scenario two involved that strange rage that had been overtaking her lately kicking into high gear, forcing her to fight the guards and the old Vampire and maybe even the kid who had been surprisingly kind to her. Surprisingly because even she remembered the things she had said in the cave the night Mika had run her through with his broadsword leaving her a simpering puddle of blood and tears on the ground as she waited for death's embrace. And she had to admit, she deserved it. But she didn't like this scenario, because she knew she would win, and she would kill them all. She would win because when the rage hit her she was invincible. She was strong enough to pull herself toward the man she had been hunting while his sword pushed its way through her body. She was invincible.

There was this voice, this niggling, nagging, screaming voice in the back of her head for the past six years. This voice that asked her constantly 'why did you put up with it? Why did you let him walk away and leave you for dead?' She couldn't deal with it any longer, it made her crazy, it filled her with the rage. It made her hunt down leads until she came across them. The Hunters. Vampire Hunters. She had training. For years after she recovered from the fire she travelled the world. Spent three decades in Asia learning different fighting styles. She wouldn't call herself a master of each of them, but she was surely a master of something. Something frighteningly fast and powerful and it made her feel wonderful to practice as the sun rose over her little three bedroom house in the country, stretching and twisting and kicking in her garden. Shooting bottles off of the fence-line like she'd seen in all of those old movies. She trained hard because she had firsthand experience with the creatures of the night. She'd loved one, which had been a mistake. She'd nearly been killed by them. She wouldn't be helpless ever again.

So when that rage hit her six years ago and she drove herself crazy trying to find him, she ended up with the Hunters who were so impressed by her skill they gave her every resource she ever could have asked for. Connections to shadowy presences in alleys that spoke of a mountain and a war and so many impossible things she was starting to feel sane in comparison with their crazy. They called her 'Jules' as if she had no full name and after a while she coined the nickname 'Jewel', partly because the majority of Hunters were horny old men, and partly because she had shone brightly when tasked with taking out known killers in the cities. These side missions had left the voice shrieking at her to follow it, and once she'd fully gained the trust of the Hunters, she did. She followed the leads into the wilderness, past corpses and wolves and bears and through foreboding woods that loomed around her and threatened to consume her. And one day she was there. She saw the mountain, the mysterious and beautiful mountain looming over her like a lost god; and she watched as a group of purple-skinned people climbed up onto a ledge and disappeared within it and the rage resurfaced with a boiling purpose, 'Follow them. Find HIM. KILL HIM.' But she knew, all of her training told her to go back. This wasn't the time. The time would come.

And it came.

And she died

And the rage was gone.

When she woke up on the stone slab screaming over and over again she felt the cloud of red lift from her body as her blood gushed onto the frocks of white-hooded medics that wanted only to let her die and she heard him scream for them to save her. She saw his face only once, wrought with pain and despair, pale hands shaking, covered in red. And the rage was gone.

At least the mysterious rage was gone. Now she was back to her normal self, complete with normal feelings and normal rage over the circumstance she was in. But she couldn't let these vampires know that. She couldn't let them see that she was exhausted from pretending she wasn't terrified and wishing she could just return to the life she had lived in solitude in her country house with her bursting garden and her cat. OH SHIT HER CAT.

So when the guards backed away and she stood on her own feet for the first time in what felt like weeks, and the Vampire boy came to help her as she wobbled, she drew away from him, letting her fear bleed through. The boy stepped back immediately, probably out of his own fear that she would harm him, but the elder Vampire with the long gray hair and the red suit and the nails that made her cringe walked forward and put his arm out like a gentleman.

Juliet stared at the arm for a full five seconds before remembering how she should act, and despite her best efforts she couldn't safely walk on her own. She felt her body threatening to open and spill its contents upon the cold stone floor, so she gave the elder Vampire her arm and leaned upon him with nearly her full weight as he took to her side. His body did not falter though and he stood straight like a brick wall, waiting for her to find her balance.

"Let us be off, then." He said with a smile. The etiquette she had been raised with fought its way to the surface as she fell into step with the old man as he led the way out of the little cell and into the stone hallways. Juliet fought the urge to stare in wonder at her surroundings, instead keeping her eyes focused on the hallway in front of her, and her steps in line with his.

"It is alright to stare," he said. "You have not been outside of that room since you were brought into it. You may look around. I promise I will not tell anybody."

"I'm not going to look around." She said, clearing her throat. This strange Vampire's arm tightened its hold on her as he felt before she did her legs starting to wobble. How stupid had she been to think she could handle this journey? Her breath was coming in sharp gasps and she saw black spots dancing in her eyes.

"We are almost there, would you like to rest?" the old Vampire offered.

'Yes, please! My chest is on FIRE!' her mind screamed out, but she shook her head, determined to not look weak before another Vampire. She took each step with gusto, stomping her bare feet so hard she felt the bruises begin to form on her heels and pads. When they turned a corner, however, she wavered, falling forward onto her knees, and he let her fall softly, helping her to the ground on her hands and knees as her chest heaved and her throat was raw and the air could not make its way through her body fast enough to calm her.

Juliet expected some show of chivalry from the old Vampire, something like him picking her up and carrying her the rest of the way, but he didn't move, save to put his hand on her back. It was comforting and humiliating at the same time because she knew he was checking her pulse and her lungs, seeing if he should bother continuing. "I'll….. be….. fine…." She gasped, dragging herself to stand. She put a hand on her stomach, checking the bandages that held her stitches in place, the stiches that held her organs inside. There was no blood leaking out, that she could feel anyhow, so she braced against the wall and placed her sweat-soaked face against the cool stone as she waited for her breathing to calm. A handful of Vampires passed them in the hallway but she sensed by their footsteps that they barely spared her a passing glance.

Once her heart had slowed its thunderous assault she reached a hand behind her, looking for the old Vampire who immediately reached out and brought her to his side again. He didn't ask any questions, he simply began to walk once more, and she followed suit, trying to keep her footsteps with his but her feet dragged as the weight of her exhaustion became more and more apparent. Fortunately they arrived in the massive store rooms quickly, and he gestured for her to take a seat. Juliet did so, noticing the bound wooden barrels full of grain, the casks of wine and ale and water, all clearly labeled and organized. The room seemed to stretch on forever and she could barely make out things that were stacked high or far in the back.

The old Vampire had disappeared into a side room and reappeared carrying a small stone carved cup and bowl. "I suppose congratulations are in order." He said as he set the bowl and cup on the chair next to her. She looked at him dumbly. "You wished to prove to me, or perhaps yourself, that you could make this journey without my help. You did. Quite a feat for a woman who, by all accounts, should be dead. I am sure it was quite painful."

Again her mid screamed out, 'You have no idea', but she remained silent instead. Staring at the bowl of what looked to be broth and the glass full of dark liquid.

"However I will not congratulate you, for you brought this painful journey upon yourself. When you refuse food you deny your body the sustenance it requires for which to heal itself." His tone was stern and she felt as if she were being reprimanded by her father.

At the thought she focused on the old Vampire, his proud nose and wrinkling flesh, how he stood with a straight back and approachable demeanor. His eyes had the glint of a smile in them at all times. So much like her Lord Highland. She remembered once when she was a young teenager and she had begun skipping meals to look thin like the girls who were popular in town. Highland had been outraged and given her nearly this same speech. Juliet's eyes must have glazed over for when she looked back up the Vampire sat had next to her and was offering her the broth.

"Please eat, I do not feel comfortable in the presence of those without a healthy appetite."

Juliet stared down the food, hearing the plea in his voice, as if he were legitimately concerned for her health. She nodded and took the bowl from him, seeing him smile brightly. Something in her heart jumped and faltered and as she put the bowl to her lips and began to drink the warm broth it was as if the warmth spread throughout her.

"Very good," he said. "Now I believe introductions are in order, I would not want to be rude." He gave a polite bow to her. "I am Seba Nile, Quartermaster of this Mountain."

Juliet set the empty bowl down, surprised at her own action. "Jew- Juliet."

"Ah, Miss Juliet No Last Name." he bowed again, his grey hair falling in waves.

She sighed. "Juliet Andères, no 'Miss' needed." She bowed her head to him politely. "Thank you for the food."

"Thank you for eating it." He replied. "I have sent that special broth to your room every day but every day it returns to me untouched. There are medicines in there that will heal your more quickly, if you would only take them."

"I have a hard time eating food I didn't prepare myself." She shrugged, not wanting to admit that she had needed to look inhuman in every-way. That she'd fasted for months before her trek to the Mountain so that she would be starved as well as enraged. It was a dangerous game, but she had needed to do it. Needed like she'd never needed before. The hunger had helped her think clearly, when the rage subsided, somehow if she was hungry it took longer for it to resurface, and she'd needed a clear head.

"Perhaps you would teach me a few of your recipes some day? It is said only a real chef would refuse a strangers food." Seba smiled.

"They say it is because food cooked without love for those who shall eat it is bland and tasteless." Juliet finished the line she had heard Lord Highland say so many times before, when he'd been home and demanding she cook for him, or he for her. 'Food cooked by loved ones for loved ones is the best food you will ever find, dear. Simply the best.' Juliet again felt that warmth in her chest and it sent a shiver down her spine.

"That is the truth!" He laughed. "But when you are hungry, even loveless food tastes like home." He stood. "Now if you would like you can accompany me to the room where we keep the clothes. Or you can trust that I will find you a suitable outfit."

Juliet couldn't hold back her smile. "No offense Seba," she tried the name out and cleared her throat as she stood. "But I don't trust anybody to pick out my clothes."

He offered her his hand, chuckling. "Fair enough."

They walked through an opening in the wall behind a stack of crates that said 'seasoning' and into a room where Juliet was surprised at the variety of clothes present.

"I do not believe you to be well enough to sift through these yourself." Seba gestured at the stacks and racks and boxes of clothes. "Why not tell me what you would like?"

Juliet sat on an overturned crate, fighting back a groan as her stitches began to throb. "I can do that."

"Let us start with shoes," Seba dragged over two crates filled with paired shoes, most of which were soft soled flats.

"There wouldn't happen to be any boots in there?" Juliet asked. Seba considered for a moment.

"Nothing in your size." He looked pointedly at her feet. "These are mostly donations from deceased Vampires."

"It's fine. I doubt they'd allow me to keep the shoes on in the cell anyhow." She sighed quietly.

"Cell? Are you referring to your medical room?" She nodded and bent down to rummage through the shoes. When that began to irritate her stitches she stood up and moved herself to sit on the ground next to the crates. "That room is normally used only for medical emergencies, accidents that happen in the Hall of Sport. I apologize if it is that oppressing to you."

"Don't apologize," Juliet found herself saying. "I would have locked me up somewhere smaller, with more bars and a less comfortable bed. Well, if I could find one."

Seba smiled and dug through the crates with her, offering up shoes every now and then. They rummaged in silence for a while, the only sounds the scraping and scuffing of shoes that Juliet threw on the floor behind her. She found a pair of black ballet flats that she thought might fit and set them aside.

"Feel free to take more than one pair, Juliet. You can always trade them out later." Seba said. Juliet began digging again, hoping to find some boots. The flats would be nice, but she really like to have her feet protected. It was something she picked up with the Hunters, and a few times over the decades of stepping on sharp objects and once in Thailand when she was nearly bitten by a snake and thanked all the heavenly powers her guide had scared it away. Foot and ankle protection was important.

"Ah, I believe we may be in luck." Seba smiled, pulling a pair of worn boots from the crate he had been sifting through. They were calf-high and had faded black and gray leather patchwork, but they would work.

"Those are perfect, thank you." She gave a small smile, finally accepting the old Vampire's kindness as genuine and not something forced by Mika or the other faceless 'Vampire Princes'.

Seba began replacing all the shoes in their crates and asked "What would you like in the way of bottoms?"

"Well I am partial to pants," she began.

"Just as well, for that is the majority of what I have to offer you." His smile was infectious, and she smiled too. "Any particular color?"

"Black."

"I am beginning to see a pattern."

Juliet narrowed her eyes at him and continued sitting on the floor as he pulled out a few pairs of black cloth pants. "Anything else?"

"Shorts, maybe? It would be nice to be… comfortable. Sometimes I'm too hot, other times too cold."

Seba pulled out one pair of small black shorts. "I believe these are for a child." He stared at them incredulously. Somebody must have been joking when they brought a pair of Daisy Dukes to Vampire Mountain, and Juliet couldn't help but giggle a little at the look on the old Vampire's face.

"I think I can wear those…" she said, clearing her throat to hide her mirth.

Seba folded the bottoms quickly and put them in a stack next to the shoes. "And shirts?"

Juliet looked down at her burlap-sack style hospital gown. "Anything but this." She pointed to herself.

"Easily." He said. "Would you mind if I picked these out with no other input?"

Juliet shook her head. "I'm sure you know what's in stock better than I do. I'm not looking for Gucci."

Though her reference was lost on him, Seba smiled and began sifting through the shirts. She saw him pull out a few darkly colored pieces and a few black pieces, and she thought back to Sunday's at her home, or Sundress-Days as she would call them. Sitting on her little patio café surrounded by greenery drinking fine coffee with Irish crème liqueur in her simple sundresses. How long had it been since she'd done that? Time had been something she'd never worried about, but she'd never believed she would be… missing something so simple.

As Seba folded the clothes and set them on the pile she cleared her throat. "Do you have any dresses? Sundays, I would, I mean I don't even know what day it is but… I'd like to pretend…" she felt embarrassed for this small admission that she wanted to feel as if she were at home, surrounded by these cold stone walls.

Internally Seba felt his heart break for this girl. Her life had changed so suddenly. He didn't know how she had come to be something the Prince's feared, but looking at her on the floor barely able to walk, asking for a nice dress to wear on a Sunday, Seba couldn't help himself.

"I have a few, some of the women here wear them on special occasions. Let me bring them out." He went to the back of the room to a small rack with hanging items and returned quickly with a few dresses. Some were insanely colorful, something Juliet could not imagine wearing, especially not if she lived in a mountain cave. But one drew her eye, a simple A-line dress that would stop at her knees, black with yellow flowers, tulips by the look of them, printed on it. Seba noticed her staring and took it off the hanger. "I will fold this one up for you." He said smiling.

"Thank you Seba," she said quietly.

"It is my pleasure." He gathered all of the items and put them in one of the smaller crates, putting it under his left arm as he offered his right to Juliet on the floor. "I shall return you to your chambers."

The thought of returning to her little med-cell soured her mood instantly, and Seba took notice as they walked down the hall. "Do not worry, dear. I will recommend to the Prince's that your recovery requires physical exercise, and perhaps tomorrow night I can take you somewhere else."

Juliet gave a small smile. "I wouldn't mind just going back to the store rooms. I could rummage through those boxes for hours."

Seba laughed. "And I certainly could use the help! But until you are well, perhaps just a walk now and then?"

"Whatever gets me on my feet and off that damn stone bed!" she laughed, immediately wincing at the stress it put on her stitches.

Seba was careful to walk slowly on the way back to the medical room, letting Juliet take a breather each time she needed, three on this walk since she had realized there was no use in putting on a brave face in front of the old Vampire.

In her weakened state, exhausted and under-fed, Juliet couldn't notice the tall figure of Mika Ver Leth following her the moment she left the room and returned. He smiled to hear her laugh and converse with the old Seba Nile, happy to know she was trying to adjust, even if she wouldn't see him. Perhaps there was hope yet.

As Seba set the box down on the small stone shelf that lie adjacent to Juliet's, apparently horribly uncomfortable stone bed, the guards came in, four again, to shackle her into place. The light that had been in Juliet's eyes moments before went out as she lay prone on the bed, allowing them to place the metal cuffs around her wrists and ankles. As the guards walked out of the room, Mika's face appeared in the doorway. Seba turned to him, noticing Juliet's eyes grow stony. He nodded to the Prince, who gestured that he would like to speak to Seba, and before leaving, the elder Vampire knelt down to Juliet and said "Do not worry, I will get you out of those cuffs as well. I swear it."

As she lay staring at the ceiling, alone again as she'd been so many times, Juliet fought back the urge to cry. Feeling freedom in a way she hadn't in six years made the cool metal cuffs feel like a hand on her throat.