Ever wondered how Sonya got her blue house? Here's how! :-) Seriously excited to post this chapter!

40. New Start

(Sonya POV)

After leaving Seattle I began a slow journey east - dotting my way from one town to the next, travelling a few hours each night before stopping to find safe place to shelter during the day. I never stayed longer than one or two days in any place - in addition to the nagging feeling that Mikhail was still hunting for me, I couldn't seem to find the right place to settle down. The smaller towns made me feel exposed, like a single kill would alert the townsfolk to my presence and I'd be chased off by swarms of farmers with pitchforks within the hour, while some of the more populated areas were already claimed by other Strigoi who didn't take kindly to outsiders stealing their resources.

When I finally arrived in Louisville a few months later I realised I might be onto something good. It was a big city, meaning there were plenty of humans to go round, so I didn't think any other Strigoi would notice if I moved in. Best of all, I had no connection to the area - Mikhail wouldn't think to search for me here and there was very little chance I'd bump into anyone I knew. (The nearest I'd been to Kentucky before was my cousin Emily's house in Ann Arbour and that was a five hour drive away.) Yes. I could make a new start here. Feeling relieved at the prospect of having a home-base again, I headed out into the night to explore the city. It would have been nice to stop for a snack but my first priority was finding somewhere to bunk down before the sun came up.

After an uneventful stroll past high-rise buildings and brightly lit shop-fronts towards the quieter areas near the river, I'd just turned to walk down a deserted street when a firm hand clasped my shoulder and I whipped around with my fangs bared, my body surging with adrenaline. The woman behind me returned my snarl and I flinched as I tried to hold my ground, studying her warily. She was shorter than me but something about her delicate features and dark, straight hair made me suspect she had been a Moroi before she turned, and I couldn't shake the feeling I'd seen her somewhere before. She looked quite young but I could tell from her scent that she was a much stronger, more experienced Strigoi than I was, and she held herself confidently, almost arrogantly over me until I gradually cowered under her gaze.

'Back down, Miss Karp,' she hissed menacingly and I shrunk into myself, arms raised to protect my chest and face as I desperately tried to figure out how she knew my name.

'That's better,' the young woman said, relaxing her pose but keeping her eyes fixed on me. 'Now let's keep this friendly and I won't have to kill you.'

'Do I know you?' I asked, trembling slightly under the gaze of my superior.

'You should. You taught me in the tenth grade. Elena Ozera,' she held her hand out for me to shake. 'Nice to see you again.'

I had no idea what to say. Everybody knew that Moira and Lucas Ozera had chosen to turn years ago; they even hoped to draw their son to the Strigoi way of life before they were tracked down and executed by Guardians. I'd totally forgotten that Lucas' cousin Esmond had also sent his child to study at St. Vladimir's, and looking back I guessed I must have only been in my first year out of college when Elena attended the school. I wasn't aware that she'd become a Strigoi too and it took me a second to remember why the girl looked so strange to me now. Those red eyes used to be ice-blue.

'Nice to see you too, Elena,' was all I managed. I knew what Strigoi looked like – I'd seen myself in the mirror – but the image of my former pupil in her current state, the blood-red eyes standing out like burning coals against the chalky, pallid skin of her cheeks, was more than shocking. I wondered if this is how I'd looked to Misha and shuddered in embarrassment and disgust at the thought.

'Have you been to Louisville before? I don't remember seeing you around,' the young woman continued on conversationally, but I could hear the cold note to her voice and realised this was no friendly chat. I was being interrogated.

Keeping my eyes trained on the Strigoi while mentally running through the nearest exits, I eventually found my voice. 'I Just arrived from the west-coast actually,' I explained, trying to keep my tone non-threatening. 'I don't want to get in anybody's way. All I'm looking for is a quiet place to stay.'

The girl eyed me suspiciously for another moment before deciding I wasn't a threat.

'That's a shame,' she raised an eyebrow mockingly. 'This city's closed for business.'

'What,' I frowned in annoyance before noticing Elena's eyes flash menacingly and she took a step closer to remind me that she was in charge. 'I mean… what's going on?' I asked carefully. 'I didn't know there were any rules for Strigoi. I thought we could do whatever we wanted?'

She laughed in my face.

'You're joking right?' the girl scoffed in disbelief. 'You must still be new at this if that's what you think!'

I blinked silently, embarrassed at my ignorance, and waited for her to explain.

'Strigoi are way more organized than those stupid Moroi and Dhampirs could begin to imagine. Every city has a leader and they guard their territory jealously. Christ, woman. If it was someone else who saw you first you'd probably be dead by now.'

'So, we're not free to move around as we please?' I clarified, genuinely surprised.

Elena shook her head tiredly. 'There's no freedom once you've turned – that's just a myth – but there is power if you're willing to fight for it. It might come as a shock to you, Miss Karp, but no matter where you go, you're going to have to play by the rules or suffer the consequences.'

That didn't sound promising. 'How have you survived?' I asked her, hoping she might give me some advice.

'I worked my way up the ladder,' she replied matter-of-factly. 'Slept with the right people, killed the ones that got in my way. I'm basically in charge around here now.' Her eyes flickered quickly behind her and I sensed she was lying. 'Well, practically. Boris is technically in charge but I'm the one who does all the work so I figure that makes me the boss.'

I smiled as warmly as I could and nodded my head in approval. 'That's great, Elena. I always thought you'd go on to achieve great things after school,' I took the opportunity to stroke her ego, hoping a bit of flattery might get me what I wanted. 'So is there somewhere I could stay around here? Even just for tonight? It doesn't have to be in the city itself – anywhere is fine. I'm not here to cause trouble.'

She thought for a minute before opening her mouth to speak. 'Well, Boris is busy working on a special project at the moment – the crew from Spokane are planning something big and have asked us to lend them a few people. He's given the order that nobody's allowed in or out of Louisville until the details are settled.' She paused briefly and glanced across at me. 'But I guess I could tell him it was a favour for an old friend.'

I tried to mask my hopeful expression, nervous she could still change her mind.

'Look. There's a guy in Lexington who owes me a favour – name's Donovan. His place is less than two hours from here and he should be able to show you the ropes.'

She grabbed her phone from her pocket and punched in the number, moving a few steps away to carry out a terse conversation that sounded like it contained a lot of threats before hanging up and returning her attention to me.

'You're in luck. He's happy to help,' she announced, getting out a pen to write down the details.

I heard myself exhale in relief and realised I must have been holding my breath. At least now I had somewhere to go before the sun came up.

'Thank you so much, Elena. You don't know how grateful I am,' I replied, taking the address she'd scribbled down for me.

'Don't thank me, Miss Karp – that's not how this works. Next time I need a favour I'll give you a call. Don't disappoint me.'

And then she was gone.

When I turned up at Donovan's place an hour and a half later it was not what I'd expected. There was a busy pizza place on the corner and a laundromat one shop further down, and every few minutes an unsuspecting customer would walk right past the place where I was hiding. The smell of human blood mingled with rosemary and roasted pepperoni had my senses lighting up, but I thought it would be best to meet Elena's friend and find out about the local rules before I sorted out my dinner plans.

The tattoo parlour was the only other place on the street, and I stepped up to the flashing 'open' sign on the door with a feeling of apprehension. Plucking up my courage, I pushed the door open and stepped inside. A bearded man - clearly Strigoi - sat behind the counter with his feet up on a stool, leafing through the pages of a dirty magazine. A second man was leaning over a customer, inking a tattoo on his meaty shoulder, while another vampire poked his face out from a private room in the back before he disappeared from view again, sliding the curtained divider across to hide whatever he was doing. A human might not be able to tell what was really going on here, but I could distinctly smell fresh blood - Moroi, a lot of it - along with traces of cocaine and a range of illicit chemicals. Thanks Elena, I thought to myself. Glad you've got such nice friends. I paused for a moment to mask my emotions then took a step closer to the counter.

'Look what the cat dragged in,' the bearded man called over to his friend as he lowered his magazine to leer at me. 'I think you're in the wrong place, sweetheart.'

'I'm here to see Donovan,' I replied calmly. 'Elena sent me.'

'Well, you're looking at him,' the Strigoi announced, rising grandly from his stool.

Donovan was obviously a man with a high opinion of himself and he carried himself with a swagger as he paraded towards me. The former Moroi was tall and fit, and his carefully manicured goatee matched the dark shade of his shoulder-length hair - perfectly tousled and glistening with product. He wore a pair of dark skinny jeans and a tight leather jacket, open at the front to reveal a waxed, muscular chest covered in tattoos. Well, that's one way to advertise your business, I thought, unimpressed by the show.

When the Strigoi reached the place where I was standing, his hand darted out suddenly and latched onto my arm. 'And you must be the new canvas,' he breathed close to my ear.

What did he mean by that? I tried to pull away but his grip was too tight. The way he was looking at me made my skin crawl and I would have lashed out at him except for the fact that he had something I needed.

'Nice body. Good skin tone,' he critiqued, spinning me around slowly. Something caught his attention and he pushed my hair back with a frown, squinting at my jawline. 'A shame about the scars, though,' he added, letting my hair fall over the offending area before stepping back and stalking around me like I was his prey. 'So, Elena told me to look after you. What are you after, exactly?' he asked.

I cleared my throat and assumed a tone of authority, not wanting to appear intimidated by the man who was currently undressing me with his eyes.

'I need somewhere to stay. A quiet place where no-one will bother me and I won't get in anybody's way. I can take care of myself – I just don't want to be fighting anybody else for food or territory.'

Donovan pursed his lips as he considered my request, playing with the oversized gap in his earlobe created by his wide-gauge earring. 'Doesn't sound too difficult to arrange. Lots of tiny backwater towns to choose from around here. Tell you what... I own a rental place in Paris - Paris, Kentucky that is. If you vacate the tenants it's yours.' He winked at me and I realised this was a good deal - a house with dinner thrown in.

I should have been pleased but there was something shifty in his gaze and the whole arrangement seemed too easy.

'So where do you want your tattoo?' he asked suddenly.

'What tattoo?' I frowned at him. That wasn't part of the bargain. I thought this guy was helping me out as a favour to Elena but maybe I misunderstood?

'You didn't think you'd get a house for free did you?' he smirked at me, using both hands to steer me to a chair and forcing me to sit down before he reclined the backrest slightly.

I had no idea why Donovan thought that giving me a tattoo was suitable payment for a house, and while I didn't specifically object to the idea of having a tattoo, the fact that I was being pressured into it made me instantly suspicious. As I struggled against the vice-like grip that pinned me to the chair Donovan's eyes lit up with delight.

'I like a woman with spirit, but we can't have you jerking about and ruining my outlines,' he tutted, enjoying himself as he strapped my wrists and legs to the chair to keep me still.

I bucked and strained at the leather bonds, my mind flooded with the same overwhelming fear I'd experienced the night I'd been tortured in the woods when I was a young Moroi.

'There's really no reason to worry,' my captor soothed when I cried out in protest, stuffing a balled-up cloth into my mouth to muffle my angry shrieks, before rolling a trolley closer to the chair and turning away to mix an array of monochromatic inks in tiny plastic pots. 'I'm very good at my job, I assure you,' he continued on as if nothing was wrong. 'People normally pay highly for the chance to wear my art, you know?'

I glared at him in response and attempted to flash my fangs at him.

'Hmm... feisty,' he narrowed his eyes and ran his tongue over his lips, turned on by my futile attempts to free myself. 'Relax, little she-devil - you will hardly feel a thing. Now, do you have an idea for the design or shall I choose?'

I had a few ideas alright - most of them involving me draining the blood from this cocky bastard before I took out his side-kicks and left this God-forsaken place forever. It was pointless to fantasise about that now, though, and all that came out from my mouth was a strangled whining sound.

'Sorry, what was that?' Donovan asked serenely, pausing before removing the gag from my mouth. 'Remember - tattoos last forever. Be nice or I'll give you a picture you'll regret.'

I had been planning to give him a piece of my mind but thought better of it. Maybe I shouldn't piss off the man with the tattoo machine.

'Roses,' I choked out angrily. 'Two. Small. Here,' I tipped my head to the right, letting my hair fall aside to reveal the skin just behind my ear.

'Beautiful,' the artist announced. 'Consider it done.' He stuffed the material back into my mouth and I bit down as his needle buzzed to life.

The next thing I knew, I was being pushed roughly from a moving car and there was a light thud as my small bag of belongings was thrown out after me. For the first time since I'd become a Strigoi I actually felt weak. My head throbbed painfully and my vision blurred in and out like I'd been drinking. The sound of tyres drawing nearer reminded me I was still lying in the middle of the road and I dragged myself up onto the pavement to get out of the way, but as the car approached me it slowed to a standstill. It was Donovan. The Strigoi wound down his window and looked out at me with a smug expression.

'Here's your key,' he tossed something out of the window and it clattered into the gutter. 'It was a pleasure doing business with you.'

'What did you do to me?' I asked, still trying to see through the cloud of pain and confusion that addled my mind.

'Just a little product testing,' he grinned, his fangs on display. 'We're developing a new line of tattoos at the moment - our human clients are always in the market to try a new high, and we've figured out a way to distil vampire blood into our inks to give our customers the ultimate rush. The product has met with great success already, so now the next step is adapting the technology for Strigoi.'

Donovan didn't appear to care that I was still sprawled weakly on the sidewalk, unable to rise, and he continued on with his explanation as though it was the most fascinating topic in the world.

'Life is long if you don't get staked, and there are plenty of our kind who are searching for new ways to pass the time. You should be proud of yourself, really - this was the first time we managed to ink a Strigoi without accidentally killing the test subject, and I must say it was fascinating to observe how the tattoo affected your physiology.'

No wonder I felt so sick - my tattoo was drugged with God-knows-what, and it sounded like I was lucky to be alive at all.

'Oh, and just so you know,' the Strigoi added casually, 'we took some blood while you were out - can't hurt to run a few experiments and see how your sample affects the next batch of ink! Now pop inside before the sun comes up, there's a good girl - it's the blue house over there. The snack inside should perk you up a bit, but if you find you have an appetite for something more... physical... I'm always happy to drop by,' he looked me up and down suggestively before closing his window and speeding off.

When I was finally alone, I dragged myself up to stand and tottered my way towards the front door of the blue house. I couldn't believe what I'd just been through - I thought becoming a Strigoi would set me free from fear and pain, but somehow trouble had a way of finding me. As I took a few deep breaths to clear my head, the hint of fear that had always lurked deep within me began to transform into a new state of mind.

I was not going to be a victim - I'd had enough of that to last me a lifetime. But I didn't want to become a monster either - trading favours to climb the ladder to power and success like Elena or taking advantage of the vulnerable for financial gain like Donovan. I wasn't interested in playing their games. I was out.

I looked up at the blue house in front of me. It might not be the perfect life I'd imagined for myself with Mikhail before everything changed, but this was what I had. This was my new start, and I wasn't going to let anybody else determine my life for me. I knew I could make a comfortable place for myself here - for the first time in my life I had the time and space to think about who I wanted to be. Sure, I'd still need blood to live, but that was true when I was a Moroi as well. It wouldn't be too hard to find a feeder - some junkie who needed me as much as I needed them. There was no reason I had to become a monster in the night to satisfy my hunger, but if anybody ever tried to take advantage of me again or threatened my way of life I would have no problem adding them to my dinner menu.

Pausing on the doorstep of my new abode I sighed in contentment, catching the sweet scent of humans inside. Okay... maybe one last treat.

Author's Note:

I really got a kick out of writing this chapter.

Elena Ozera is a partly fictitious character - I wanted to use a Strigoi who already existed in the books (Elena is one of Rose's captors in Spokane), but I also needed her to have a connection to Sonya. Seeing as Richelle Mead's 'Elena' didn't have any specific background I decided to make her an Ozera (Lucas Ozera's cousin Esmond Ozera really exists in the novels, but he is an extremely minor character so I figured nobody would mind if I invented a daughter for him). My Elena Ozera is a typically self-serving Strigoi and I imagine she would like to be as powerful as Dimitri's Strigoi boss/mentor Galina was in Blood Promise.

Donovan is a minor character in Spirit Bound who leads Rose to Sonya, but the tattoo parlour owner is only described as being ex-Moroi, tall & dark haired. When I first imagined Donovan I was thinking of a bearded bikie, but the more I thought about it I wanted him to be a bit sexier (but still dodgy). My muse for Donovan is cross between Dave Navarro (host of Ink Master, guitarist from Jane's addiction etc.) and Russel Brand at his slimiest.

It wasn't explained in the books how Sonya got her house, so I had fun coming up with my own theory... combining the ideas of underground Strigoi politics, Donovan's character and the tattoos from Nevermore that appear in the Bloodlines series (haven't read the whole thing, but I liked that concept!). Hope you like the result :-)