JENNIE
"You have to forgive me; we're not used to serving breakfast."
I groaned as the voice pulled me from a heavy sleep. I peeled my eyes open, expecting to find the violet walls of my bedroom and a grumbling servant trying to rip the sheets out from under me.
Instead, I found a dark-haired woman holding a glass of wine beneath my nose. Or at least …I hoped it was wine. Suddenly, all red liquids seemed suspicious.
"I did the best with what I could find," she added, gesturing toward the tray someone had set on the bed. Her green eyes were familiar, and a name sprung to mind on a wave of dark memories. Jisoo.
At her prompting, I glanced down at the tray. On it was a crisp package of crackers, a stick of celery and a piece of mint gum.
"The wine is unconventional, I know," Jisoo admitted, swirling the liquid around with a tilt of her wrist. "But, we don't stock orange juice, and I thought you might appreciate this a little more, anyway."
She was right. Still groggy, I grabbed the glass and drained it while she watched. It was sweeter than even my father's old vintage, but I barely registered the taste.
I just wished it had been hard liquor instead.
I was sore in places I didn't even know could be sore. I was exhausted, drained beyond belief—but all of that could have been bearable if it wasn't for the underlying sense of satisfaction that was so heavy it felt surreal.
And shame, there was plenty of that too. Both made it impossible to ignore what I desperately wanted to. Don't, I told myself as I wrestled my body upright against a mound of pillows. Don't go there. Too late.
I, Jennie Kim, was no longer a virgin. Even worse—the person who had done the deed of removing said virginity had done so under the duress of a silly contract.
Also, a part of me added, almost on a bored note, she had fangs.
I was pretty sure by now that she had fangs.
"Lisa told me that she gave you your dose last night?" Jisoo inquired while scanning my arms as if looking for a bandage or a hint of an injection spot.
I flinched at the sound of her name before I even processed the meaning of her question. Dose? I shook my head.
"Hmph." Jisoo shrugged. "It must have been while you were sleeping."
The thought was terrifying. Almost as terrifying as it was to look down and realize that I was neatly tucked beneath the blankets—not sprawled out on a pile of crumpled gray sheets. I didn't dare think that Lisa would take the care, meaning that someone else must have tucked the covers over my naked body.
"So …" I glanced up to find Jisoo watching me intently. "How do you feel?"
Going off her expression, I suspected that she wasn't asking out of politeness. God, did the whole world know? I had a vision of Lisa sulking around the lounge, complaining to anyone who would listen about the 'dreadful deflowering.' Still, Jisoo seemed genuinely concerned, so I bit my bottom lip and mentally assessed my throbbing limbs.
With every movement I winced, as an ache unfurled deep inside; the result of muscles being pushed beyond their limits. The sensation felt no more uncomfortable than I would have expected after a strenuous run or vigorous exercise. I could feel the beginnings of bruises taking shape over my waist, but I figured that had more to do with how hard Lisa had held me down, rather than any deliberate infliction of abuse on her part.
"Fine."
Aside from the physical pain, most of my suffering came purely from damaged pride, and my psyche was more than willing to nail that point home. You stupid, spoiled cow! Idiot! Next time, just write the damn check!
"Ah …" Jisoo nodded and her mouth opened as if she meant to say something. Then she seemed to think better of it and the red lips closed again.
"Why are you here?" I wondered after a moment. "I-I mean ...you didn't have to help me."
I would have thought that Lisa would have wanted me to stew in my shame alone just to reinforce the fact that I should have accepted her first offer.
"Why not?" Jisoo countered. Her tone seemed harmless enough, but I couldn't shake the feeling that she had evaded the question on purpose.
Though why did it matter either way? At least her company kept me from focusing too much on myself.
I turned my attention to her 'breakfast' and grabbed the celery stick at random, desperate to use the pretense of eating as an excuse to keep my mouth shut. I could sense Jisoo watching as my eyes scanned the room.
It was plain. The only light came from a silver light fixture hanging from the ceiling—unsurprisingly it was in the shape of a serpent. There were no windows, so I couldn't tell if it was day or night. There wasn't any furniture other than the bed. Hell, it could have been a simple bedroom at Kim Manor if the bed frame wasn't sleek metal instead of antique wood.
"Jennie." Jisoo's tone made me stiffen. "You can talk to me, about anything. Anything at all. I'm here."
I had a feeling that she wasn't referring to the typical girl talk.
"There is something," I began warily.
Several somethings to be exact—but one sordid little image in my mind was stuck on replay, and no matter how hard I tried logic couldn't explain it away.
"What?"
"I saw …"
Goodness, how could I even say it? I cleared my throat and tried to find the words. "I saw someone b-bitten last night."
Not only that, but I was starting to suspect that pale skin and piercing eyes weren't just odd physical features that pretty much everyone in this building shared out of coincidence.
What am I, Jennie? Lisa had asked. I want to hear you say it.
Rather than rush me to the insane asylum, Jisoo simply rolled her eyes. "I knew that bastard wouldn't tell you herself," she scoffed. "She's much too fond of theatrics."
"T-theatrics?"
I had to disagree. Judging from the way she had acted as though my screams were poisonous acid dripped directly onto her ear drums, I was willing to go so far as to say that Lisa Manoban was definitely not the 'theatrical' sort.
"She gets a kick out of watching people discover the truth on their own," Jisoo explained with an exasperated sigh. "It makes her feel all 'mighty Devil, collector of souls.' She can be quite an ass if you haven't guessed."
I choked on a bite of celery. While I sputtered, Jisoo perched herself on the edge of the bed and gingerly patted my shoulder. Her warmth was a shock. I couldn't remember if I had even noticed it before, but in the wake of Lisa's icy chill her heat hit me like a thousand degrees.
Nearly a full minute passed before I gathered the nerve to ask another question. "Are you a …"
What? Say it, Jennie, demanded Lisa's crisp tones. Say it out loud—admit it!
Jisoo's laugh snapped me out of the waking nightmare. "No. I'm …different."
'Different', other than fangs and blood? The look in her eyes warned me not to even ask. You're not ready.
I was too shocked to find the words anyway. Too many things swirled through my mind: fangs, pale skin, and a strange affinity for maniacal laughter …
It all added up to one horrible, impossible conclusion.
Say it, Jennie, my consciousness taunted. Say it!
"Somi," I heard myself croak instead. "Is she?"
Jisoo shook her head. "No. Most—" She seemed to pick on the way my entire body tensed—waiting for her to voice what I was too chicken to. In the end, she just allowed 'most' to linger on the air. "They don't tend to frequent the Den unless they need to feed. Mikhail is our overseer; however Somi manages most of the contracts. Lisa used to oversee our operations, but this is the first time in years that she's stayed longer than a few minutes."
Years? Interesting. Had I—with all my insistence on being 'just like everyone else'—pushed dear old Lisa out of a retirement of some sort? A part of me was almost gleeful at the prospect. At least until Jisoo's frowned.
"Speaking of Lisa …"
I stared as she moved to the foot of the bed. There, she reached down and lifted something from the floor. It was a slender box, I saw, as she placed it flat on the mattress and pulled off the lid.
Inside … At first, I wanted to believe that they were merely bracelets, two delicate, slender bracelets that just so happened to have been connected by a silver chain.
But one didn't need a key to unlock 'bracelets'.
"Lisa's orders," Jisoo said, fingering a link of one cuff. "She wants you to get used to wearing them. Some of our clients have …certain fetishes."
I gulped, unwilling to even consider what type of person might request that someone else wear handcuffs—let alone pay for the privilege.
You got yourself into this, Jennie; you're the one who wanted to repay a debt based on your own 'merits'.
"Wear them?" I whispered hoarsely. "How?"
Jisoo's pointed glance at the headboard was all the explanation I needed.
"Oh God."
Suddenly, I felt pathetically small, huddled beneath the sheets while a woman beautiful enough to have stepped out of a fairytale told me that the monster in charge of my fate had requested that I wear chains—just to practice.
"It's customary for all of the girls," Jisoo insisted, as if that made it any better. "Would you like to bathe first?" I nodded, wishing I still had a curtain of hair to hide the way I blushed once I realized that I was still naked. "I'll get you a robe."
Jisoo left and returned a moment later with a garment made of black silk. I pulled it on only to realize that—despite reaching down to my ankles—it was no less revealing than my tiny white shift. Unwilling to ask for another one, I stood and silently followed Jisoo down the hall and into a wide bathroom.
Like everything else in the building, the layout was sleek and impeccably modern. The floors were black marble and the tub looked big enough to swim in. Jisoo left me there with an apologetic frown and advice to use the violet-scented soap beneath the sink.
"It soothes the skin."
I didn't dawdle or waste time by soaking. Nor did I allow myself to enjoy the sensation of warm water rushing over my skin. Instead, I grabbed a clean rag from a cupboard along the wall and set about attacking my throbbing limbs with an almost clinical precision.
Bruised hips. Sore thighs. Oh, was that blood streaking the washcloth in a single rust-colored stain as I dragged it between my legs?
No worrying, Jennie, old girl, I told myself. Stiff upper lip. Don't think about it. Just focus on the task at hand.
I finished up quickly and threw my robe back on without even bothering to dry off.
Jisoo was in the bedroom, waiting for me. Without her even having to say a word, I moved toward the bed and sat down, close to the headboard, but still far enough away to …
God, what should I do? Lie down? Sit up? Funny, I had never had to contemplate my comfort while wearing handcuffs before.
I stiffened when Jisoo approached, but she only grabbed the box and slid the chains from their perch of black velvet. Her fingers lifted my left wrist and seconds later I heard a 'clink!'
I couldn't look. The weight of the metal was oppressive, but not as uncomfortable as I might have imagined. I still had room enough so that the cuff merely felt like a bracelet—at least until I tried moving my arm farther than a few inches from the headboard.
"She wants you to wear both until she returns," Jisoo explained. I looked up to find her twirling a second set around her finger. "But I shall only attach one pair for now. She can place the other."
She promptly allowed the other set to fall back into the box.
It blew my mind how she seemed to respect Lisa's words and still thwart her at the same time, first, with my styling and now with the chains. The tiny acts of sabotage reminded me of a sister, humoring an older sister but still determined to keep her in her place.
"It's strange," she said. "You're the first girl Lisa's brought in years. Many of the ones already here belong to Somi." Her tone made it clear what she thought about that. "I thought she was done with this part of the trade."
"The trade?" Apparently, collecting contracts based upon the suffering of others was some kind of fulfilling career.
"Contracts," Jisoo amended. "I assume that she's been negotiating other bargains, rather than the club recently."
Other bargains. I recalled the deal with the sick girl's father. Were simple business deals Lisa's preferred method of repayment after all?
"I'm surprised that she's brought you here," Jisoo admitted, as if following the same trail of thought.
I didn't have the heart to tell her that the only reason I was here was because I was a fool, too stubborn to let herself be used for her name and money like any proper heiress.
"She was furious with how I dressed you, by the way," she added, though she almost seemed amused by the thought. "She said that I made you look like a child, that you were unappealing, and that you are 'never to wear white again'." She frowned, mocking Lisa's crisp tones.
I felt my cheeks flame with mortification, though I doubted that I would have been any more 'appealing' in one of those tiny, black ensembles.
"I don't think I've ever seen her quite that furious," Jisoo declared without a hint of regret. "So do you know what I did?"
She stood and moved to the door, but at the threshold, she glanced back over her shoulder, green eyes blazing.
"I bought yards of ivory silk. And lace."
The next person to enter the room came what seemed like hours later and carried another tray, stocked with real food this time. The fare consisted only of a sandwich, a soda and another pack of crackers, but tucked beneath it all was a handwritten note: She comes at midnight—Jisoo.
Midnight.
The realization made my stomach churn, considering that I didn't even know how long I had to contemplate my fate.
There was no clock in the room, and the girl who'd brought the food had left without even a backwards glance in my direction. I felt like a twisted Cinderella, doomed the moment the clock struck twelve.
Or, in a more morbid tone, a helpless Red Riding Hood tethered for the wolf's arrival.
Lisa. Even thinking of her name unwittingly conjured images of last night. I didn't want to think about them. I sure as hell didn't want to relive them—but they were still there, haunting me until I couldn't escape the memory of it.
Desperate, I attempted to distract myself with thoughts of hatred instead. It was easier to loathe her; despise her; curse her to hell.
Huddled against the headboard, I entertained myself with all kinds of lovely visions of revenge; Lisa, roasting on a fiery spit, prodded by eager demons armed with numerous pointy objects; Lisa, imprisoned by her own damn chains on the Kim property for my amusement.
Wait …
That last thought didn't seem quite as devious as I meant it to be. In fact, the image of Lisa, smirking even while manacled, didn't seem to affect her dream self nearly as much as it did me. My skin grew warm at the thought, though I had no idea why, or why something in me trembled at the prospect of ever holding that kind of power over her ...
Perhaps because, even while chained, she still would have been able to speak.
'Do you have it in you, Jennie?' The fantasy Lisa wondered. 'Do you have what it takes to play games with the Devil?'
Suddenly, the knob on the door twitched. A second later it opened, allowing in a gust of cool air that had me shivering beneath my thin robe. And then—at what I guessed was midnight on the dot—the source of my torment finally strolled in.