JENNIE
"Get up—"
The cold voice jolted me awake, and my eyes flew open to an unfamiliar room enclosed by ebony walls.
Pain and shame greeted me like two old friends. A cold sweat basted my skin and from the way my cheeks burned, I suspected I'd been blushing in my sleep. To top it all off, my entire body ached inside and out. When I finally gathered the nerve to glance up, I almost hoped to find Jisoo standing there beside the bed with a much-needed dose of alcoholic medicine.
Instead I found Lisa, glaring down with empty eyes.
"Get dressed," she commanded. "Now."
She tossed something onto the mattress: a black jacket, tailored to perfection. The same one, I realized with a gulp, that she had worn last night. My entire body heated up at the memory, not that I had long to sit and reminisce.
"Unless you want to be around when an entire manor full of vampires bed down," Lisa called ominously from the doorway, "I suggest you do as I say."
Her tone conjured plenty of frightening possibilities, and I grabbed the jacket and shoved my arm through one of the sleeves without delay.
The garment was large on me and hung down almost to my knees when I stood up. A strange scent lingered in the fabric, making my stomach clench—ice, spice, her. My fingers shook so badly that I barely managed to fasten the topmost button before Lisa marched across the room and grabbed my arm to pull me along.
We entered the deserted hallway in silence—not that we stuck around long enough to greet anyone who might happen to walk by. Lisa was ruthless, dragging me through the corridors in record time. I barely noticed the entryway passing by in a blur before I found myself outside, stumbling down those front steps.
The sky was a faint, navy blue that marked the early morning hour before dawn. The sun hadn't even risen yet, and I could still make out the moon, pale and partially hidden beneath silver clouds.
I guessed it to be four or five in the morning, at least.
A car was waiting nearby and, without hesitation, Lisa wrenched open the passenger-side door and shoved me inside. I scrambled to adjust myself as she circled around to the driver's side and took the wheel. Without a word, we took off, turning down the driveway and through the main gates that opened, once again, seemingly on their own.
I tried not to ask where we were going but once the city, glowing and vibrant, appeared on the horizon I couldn't help myself.
"Are you taking me home?"
Why in the hell did I sound so breathless at the prospect?
One night in a spooky vampire mansion and I should have been begging to be taken to Kim Manor. But at the thought of traipsing through those empty halls and back to my own bed …
I shoved my hands into the pockets of her jacket and fidgeted on the leather seat.
Of course, Lisa didn't answer or even spare a glance in my direction. She seemed entirely too focused on maneuvering through the slumbering city streets. She gave me no clue as to where we were headed, but when the car finally came to an abrupt stop, I felt myself frown in confusion as I took in our surroundings.
Thinking of the posh Cafe Claret and that elegant cathedral residence, I was stunned to find us parked within a narrow, filthy alley. Shadowy figures lingered on the corners nearby, and an odd stench reached my nostrils even with the windows firmly rolled up.
Going off Lisa's polished persona, it looked like the sort of place she wouldn't even have her trash dumped in, let alone enter herself. But there she was, already out of the car and pulling open my door without hesitation.
"Come on."
I had no choice but to climb out onto the pavement after her, painfully aware of my bare feet—as well as the fact that I wore nothing at all beneath her jacket ...
No underwear. No bra. No lacy white nightgown.
My cheeks flamed as I grabbed onto the hem of the coat and tried to yank it down as far as it would go; barely to my knees. Oblivious to my discomfort, Lisa snatched for my wrist, and once again took off with me in tow.
We went down half a block before she pulled me into what appeared to be a small café. A sign on the window claimed "24 hr service."
It was relatively clean inside, with linoleum floors and blue walls illuminated by a flickering ceiling lamp.
Lisa brought us to a booth in the back corner and shoved me onto the seat before taking the one across from me. When a yawning waitress appeared, she ordered two cups of coffee—black—without asking for my preference and we sat in silence until the waitress returned and placed the steaming mugs down between us.
Warily, I grabbed one, desperate for something to keep me busy rather than twiddling my thumbs. I made a show of pouring in two creams and ripping open exactly three bags of sugar while Lisa watched, her own cup untouched.
With the hot mug in my hand I finally found the strength to voice a question. "Why are we here?"
Something told me that she wasn't the type to go out for coffee at four o'clock in the morning for the hell of it. Rather than answer me directly, she withdrew something from her pocket—a folded slip of paper—which she carefully unfurled before placing it on the table.
A pen appeared from nowhere to roll in my direction.
"Your time is up," she told me, eyes on the surprisingly blank sheet. "Usually, this would signal a need to …renegotiate."
I blinked in shock and took a hasty sip of scalding coffee to hide it. "R-Renegotiate?" I stammered after I swallowed. "F-For what?"
She raised a blond eyebrow. "Surely, even someone like you had planned on bargaining for more than four days?"
More days? Was it funny that I had almost forgotten our little 'arrangement?'
Though I was more surprised by the fact that she wasn't running away from me, cursing the day she ever gave me her blood. Instead, she sounded every bit the businessman, and I took another sip, genuinely curious.
What on earth would someone like me do with more time? Contemplate my impending spinsterhood as she had so rudely implied the other day? But then I thought of Rosé and flinched; in all the chaos of the last few days, I had nearly forgotten that I was 'technically' dying.
"And what would I have to do?" I found myself asking. "Be put up for auction again?"
I couldn't disguise my disgust at the mere thought of ever appearing on stage before Somi.
"No," she said quietly.
My head jerked up. Eyes wide, I waited for her to continue.
"Rather than the club, this time your contract would solely belong to …me."
She made it sound so casual. So harmless.
As naïve as she seemed to think I was, even I saw right through the act; brown liquid sprayed in an arc as I choked.
"You? Doing what?" I sputtered, aware that all eyes were on us: the bleary-eyed waitress, the cook, and a yawning janitor in the corner—not that Lisa seemed to give a damn.
"Whatever we agree on," she replied. "That is the meaning of 'negotiations,' after all. What? Don't believe me?" Suddenly, she reached for the pen and scribbled something on the slip of paper. "I'll start, then; while not unlimited access to your accounts, I want full use of your name."
"Like how?" I asked, curious despite myself—even more so at her reply.
"Your endorsement."
I frowned at a mental image of me smiling while holding up a box of cookies, or whatever else a vampire could possibly hope to sell.
"Not in the way you're thinking," she added, as if reading my mind. "Your presence would come in handy during several business arrangements. Nothing less. Nothing more."
"Huh."
When I didn't start raving about my name and money Lisa seemed to take it as a sign that I might play along.
She held out the pen.
Negotiations, hm?
"And no more auctions?" I asked just to make sure. My eyes warily drifted over her neat writing: Unlimited use of the Kim name.
"Done," she said.
"And—" I swallowed. "What about …"
My hesitation alluded to what I couldn't put into words.
"Yes." Her expression gave nothing away. "Sex will be a part of your bargain; a fair trade for more time—"
"Two weeks," I interjected, trying to not let my shock show. A 'fair' trade? "I …I want just two more weeks."
More than enough time for me to face Rosé and secure a guardian for Mr. Tinkles. I shuddered at the thought of my poor kitty; she had been neglected for nearly a week now.
Lisa nodded. Fine. "You will have seven days," she clarified. "And so will I."
A creeping sensation blossomed in my stomach as I considered it. Seven days for me, with a day spent paying off each one in return, adding up to exactly two weeks.
Talk about a hard bargain.
You should leave, the logical side of me insisted. Just get up and go home. This isn't right.
I squirmed uneasily and reached for my mug again, only to discover that it was empty.
"What about the club?" I thought of that dark interior with a shudder as I set the mug aside.
Her reply was swift. "You will accompany me there should I happen to visit on the days you repay me, and even then you would only service me."
In other words, I wouldn't be dressed up and sold off to the highest bidder.
"Oh," I said. Given the swirl of emotions circling my mind, the word had a million different connotations.
Oh, I'm relieved I won't be auctioned off like cattle.
Oh, but that means I'll be at your mercy.
Oh, I am contemplating stealing your coffee out of desperation.
In the end, I couldn't hide my sigh of relief.
The pen was still in front of me, and I cradled it carefully between my thumb and forefinger before pressing it to the page. It seemed to take an eternity before I gathered enough nerve to write out a single sentence before shoving the page in her direction. I felt like a high school student, passing notes.
Lisa read the line with one pass of those gray eyes; no cuffs.
"Nonnegotiable," she said, without elaborating on why. She grabbed the pen and, in a smooth stroke, crossed out my words. "But while we're on the subject ..."
After adding three more sentences, she held the page out for me to read. Considering the nature of them, I assumed that all three 'conditions' applied solely to me.
No touching without strict permission.
No kicking.
No shrieking.
I flinched at the last part, remembering her 'damsel' insult from what felt like a million years ago. How funny that in reality it had only been a few days. I thought for a minute, mulling over the strange fact that we were negotiating sexual preferences, as part of a contract, in the middle of a half-empty café.
"No kissing," I added, thinking that the request was fitting enough and without a word, Lisa added it to the list: No kissing, on the mouth.
I wasn't brave enough to ask why she felt the need to make that distinction. Instead, I wracked my brain, trying to think of something more to add to our strange list of agreements. "What about …b-biting?"
"Another non-negotiable point," she said quietly. "When I need to feed, you will suffice."
Her eyes met mine for merely a second from across the table and it was like time stopped and then started again in slow motion.
"Do I get to specify anything?" I stammered, trying to regain my senses.
Lisa didn't play along. "Of course not. My blood, my rules."
Suddenly, she drew a sharp line across the bottom of the page.
"The terms are set; make your choice, Jennie. It's not dotted," she told me, holding out the pen while I eyed that long, black line. "But I'm sure you know what to do all the same."
That I did.
Run, Jennie, my inner voice urged. Is your soul really worth two weeks?
After four days with Lisa, it already felt tainted.
But it wasn't until her cup of coffee had grown ice-cold and a bit of light began to brush the horizon—visible through the café's only window—that I finally found the strength to pick up the pen ...
And I warily signed my name.
My drying signature taunted me. That piece of paper may as well have been a stone with my fate engraved on it—and, like a fool, I could only sit there, stirring the cold dregs of my coffee with a teaspoon.
"So …what next?" I tried to act nonchalant, while inside I was berating myself.
Silly, stupid, Jennie!
What the hell had gotten into me?
Did I like being threatened or mocked or …pinched?
Had I become some kind of thrill seeker in the span of four days?
I must have; what else could explain it? Something out of this strange arrangement must have appealed to me—enough that I signed again, right on the 'not-dotted' line. This time with nearly twice as much at stake, and twice as much Lisa to suffer.
I peered at her from beneath my lashes when she didn't answer. Those gray eyes were on the menu, as if hash browns and scrambled eggs were more appetizing than gloating over me. However, I didn't miss how her hand moved to grab the contract from the table and casually slip it into her pocket.
"Why me?" I found myself blurting. Now that I thought about it, the fact that she had brought up the 'renegotiations' herself was strange, especially when one factored in the little detail that my very presence seemed to irritate the hell out of her.
Judging by the four a.m. coffee and lack of proper clothing—without her suit-coat, she only wore that black undershirt—I guessed that this wasn't the normal course of action for her either.
In fact, I got the sense from my few, clandestine dealings with Ms. Manoban that she was more accustomed to having people beg for more time rather than bringing up the subject herself.
"Why you?" I added, fingering the rim of my mug. "Why not have my duties tied to the club, like before?"
A part of me wanted to believe that it had something to do with me; that I was special. Different. I had done my 'bargaining' well enough that she wanted more …
Her reply, of course, was a little less than flattering.
"I wouldn't dare foist you off on someone else."
"So then why negotiate at all?" I tossed back. "I would have been more than satisfied with just dying, you know."
It didn't matter that the piece of paper in her pocket proved the exact opposite. So what? No matter the contract, I didn't need Lisa or her time—or so I told myself.
"I told you." Lisa's icy tone forced me to meet her gaze—or at least stare at the plastic, vinyl booth behind her head. "Your name and your image could be very useful to me."
I frowned, remembering her mention of 'endorsements.'
"So what about the …" I cleared my throat. "Other stuff?"
She raised a blond eyebrow. "Please, Jennie, for the love of God, do not get any cute ideas—" I blinked, distracted by a single, idiotic thought; were devils even allowed to utter God? "This isn't about lust, or even attraction," she added, her voice cutting through my mind like a knife. "Whenever I have 'needs' that must be slacked, I would prefer to avoid the hassle of having to purchase a woman every single time."
She sounded so damn blunt about the fact: You're just a body. One I don't even prefer, but when nature calls …
I shouldn't have felt so insulted. To be fair, it wasn't exactly like she needed to pay a woman, or indebt one to servitude, for them to sleep with her. Though, even if she did, who was I to judge?
I was the one who'd lost my virginity as part of a business arrangement after all.
"Fair enough," I said tightly. "And of course this isn't about attraction; you're not even my type."
I had no idea why I was on the defensive. As if piercing eyes, beautiful features and a body to die for—though I had never seen it in its entirety—wasn't my type.
Hell, as sheltered as my life had been …did I even have a type?
I wracked my brain, filtering through the memories of my few childhood crushes for a pattern. Sadly, Lisa did not possess the pimples, freckles, or runny noses that seemed to dominate my past, one-sided relationships.
"This isn't about attraction," she reiterated impatiently, drawing me from my school-age memories. "This isn't even about sex. The only thing that matters is our contract; and if I have to add up your few positive qualities to reach an agreement worth even one day …then I will."
My teeth descended into my bottom lip—drawing blood—in an attempt to keep from making a sound. I refused to give her the satisfaction of ever knowing just how much those words hurt.
"Here."
With a thump, something landed on my placemat; a napkin.
Oh. A shiver ran through me, once I realized that Lisa's gaze had honed in on my bitten lip. Aware of her watching, my tongue flicked out to wipe away the blood. I dabbed at my mouth with the napkin for good measure.
She didn't say a word as I finally set the crumpled tissue aside.
Taking advantage of the silence, I couldn't resist asking, "How much did you pay for me?"
My heart lurched at the thought of knowing. I had a feeling the amount was even less than the few dollars I had joked.
Pennies?
"Why?" Her tone was hard.
I risked sneaking a peek at those eyes and immediately wished I hadn't. That gray had taken on a frosty crust in which I could clearly see my reflection: pale skin, massive eyes. An overall mess.
"I'm j-just curious," I stammered.
Her gaze held mine for so long that I swore I could feel frostbite creeping up my toes. Then, all at once, she closed the menu with a thwack!
"You threw out some pretty good guesses last night," she said harshly. "Take your pick. Five dollars, you said? I'm pretty sure you were in the right ballpark."
I didn't quite process the motion of feeling along my seat—searching for something—until Lisa suddenly leaned forward.
"What are you doing?"
I froze. That slight shift of her body was dangerous; a tiger brushing the bars of its cage with the very tip of one claw, warning all within reach to be on guard.
"I …I'm looking for my checkbook," I croaked—though I guess the search had been more symbolic than anything else, considering that I didn't even know where my purse was.
"For what?"
Her tone dared me to continue, and alarm prickled down my spine. Danger! Danger! Mayday! It was as if she knew what I was going to say, even before I stupidly uttered it. "So that I can write you a check for five dollars—"
"The hell you are."
Her rage was visible only within those silver eyes, but obvious to me nonetheless. For a moment, I couldn't breathe.
"I don't like owing debts," I said, gazing down at the cheery menu blazing with its bright colors and promises of "home-cooked" food. "You buying me wasn't a part of our bargain." Though, for all I knew that could have been her original plan all along, to save her the humiliation of ever trying to sell me off. "I will repay you the—"
"You will repay me as I see fit," her voice cut over mine. Abruptly she snatched the menu from the table and practically shoved it onto my lap. "Eat something."
"W-What?"
"Eat something."
I stared down at the selection of breakfast foods and rattled off the first item on the list. "I'll have a …an, um, omelet."
Lisa snapped her fingers and within seconds the waitress reappeared, looking markedly more alert than she had before. Her brown eyes met mine, and I could only wonder just how much of our conversation she had overheard.
Lisa reiterated my request and with a forced smile she pranced off into the kitchens.
We didn't speak. Not a word, until twenty minutes later, the waitress returned with a steaming plate of fried egg and two mugs of fresh coffee balanced on a tray.
When she set the food down in front of me, I grabbed a fork and stabbed into a piece of omelet—the moment I did Lisa spoke.
"You can have the rest of today to yourself."
I glanced up, hearing the fork clatter to the floor before my mind even registered letting it go.
"What?"
Her eyes closed. Re-opened and narrowed. I could practically taste her annoyance, mingling with the dregs of old coffee on my tongue.
"Monday you will begin fulfilling your contract," she continued as if I had never spoken.
"M-Monday?"
Lisa mistook my shock—at the thought that a week of my life had slipped by already—for something else.
"Yes, Monday," she parroted, amused. "Consider our previous arrangement as a 'free trial' of sorts. From now on, any day you bargain for must be paid off in advance."
I gulped at the implications. "So for the next seven days, I'm …"
Her smile was chilling. "Mine."
I nearly fell off the bench.
She doesn't mean it that way, a part of me frantically insisted. She probably meant 'hers' in the same way that car was 'hers.'
Still, I couldn't breathe.
Unconcerned, Lisa reached for the untouched silverware on her side of the table, grabbed a fork, and held it out to me.
"Eat."
Warily, I took it, stabbed again at that same piece of omelet and brought it to my mouth. I held it there, weighing my next words carefully in my mind.
"What will I do?"
"Whatever I request."
I tried to hide my disappointment as I chewed. The food was surprisingly good and I found myself swallowing the last bite before I could help it.
It unnerved me to realize that, the entire time, Lisa had been watching me. The moment I set my fork down, she tossed a wad of money onto the table and stood, reaching for my wrist.
"Have a nice day!" The waitress called as Lisa manhandled me out onto the street.
The car was waiting, untouched, when we reentered the alley.
Around us, the city was just beginning to awaken. There were more people on the streets, I saw, as Lisa navigated through them. She didn't seem to be heading for the cathedral, but I almost didn't recognize the imposing monstrosity that was my family home when it finally appeared at the crest of a hill.
How foreign the place seemed to me after only a few days away ...
Even after my stint in the hospital, I didn't remember feeling quite so cold, staring up at the gray stone—though I was sitting beside a vampire, for God's sakes.
And the monster in question drove to the front gates without a word. She slowed near the small guardhouse where a bored security guard slumped in the booth.
It was only then that reality sank in.
I had been 'technically' missing for nearly four days. Distracted by Lisa, I hadn't even thought to call. Or send word that I was relatively okay or alive.
Which one? I wondered as I eyed the front of the house through the gate. Had Harper sent the SWAT team or my family's own private brigade of security guards after me?
"Let me talk to him," I insisted, as the guard came around to the car. "They've probably been worried sick—"
Ignoring me, Lisa pushed the button that rolled down the window and leaned out of it.
"Morning, Lyle," she greeted, as if I didn't exist. "How are the kids?"
Lyle made a show of smothering a yawn beneath the back of his hand as he flipped the switch to open the gate. "Same old, same old, Ms. Manoban," he called, waving the car forward. "Welcome back."
Back? The car lurched into motion and I could only stare, lost somewhere in between 'Lyle'—whose name I had never learned until now—and the fact that Lisa had inquired about his children.
Without sneers or sarcasm.
Before I could even begin to choke out a request for explanation, she started to speak.
"I've kept an eye on the property while you were away," she explained while navigating the car along the paved driveway. "I've also reassured the staff that you would return today."
"H-How?" I didn't know if I should have been alarmed by how she parked the car in front of the main walkway as comfortably as if she was the one who lived there.
I was too distracted by the thought of her wandering the halls, speaking to my staff and dolling out orders in my absence.
"How else?" She turned to face me fully, eyes bright in the growing daylight. "I am your new doctor, after all."
"New …doctor?" My head was spinning.
"Speaking of which, I have your next dose of medication." As she spoke, she pulled a small object from her pocket; another silver syringe.
I cringed into my seat as the inside of my elbow stung in memory of my last 'dose.'
If Lisa noticed, or cared, she didn't show it. Instead, she merely tapped the side of the barrel with her nail, mixing the liquid within.
"This should last you for a few days," she said. "Though it is a heavier dose than you're used to. I'm hoping that your body has built up enough tolerance by now. You should only be unconscious for a few hours; twenty-four, at most."
Well, so much for having the day to myself.
I could only stare, about as excited to receive my medication as a five-year old child. Prancing back onto Somi's stage butt-naked seemed more appealing than being unconscious for—as she put it—a "few" hours.
But it wasn't like she asked for permission.
Instead, Lisa merely warned me to "sit still" as she pried my wrist from my body and jabbed the needle into a vein.
I hissed between my teeth as pain ran through me like an electric shock. Sharp. Burning. At the sound, Lisa frowned.
"Count to ten," she told me, in a tone that challenged me to question her.
I sighed. Hesitated.
"Now, Jennie."
"One ...two …three …"
My mouth was still open, reciting numbers, but a funny thing happened between three and five. The world shifted. My heart flipped over in my chest. The sun was brighter than gold on the horizon, distracting me from everything else. And then Lisa herself changed. That white skin became almost translucently pale, as her body elongated like a snake's. All the while, those gray eyes held me captive.
"Keep counting, Jennie," she growled, even as her mouth opened and promptly swallowed me whole.