JENNIE
When I followed Lisa over the threshold, I felt like a trespasser in the middle of Dracula's Halloween ball.
Priceless tapestries hung from the scarlet walls, depicting ancient scenes with a detail that made my heart seize in my chest. Shadows draped the polished, ebony floor like the finest Persian carpets. Paintings framed in gold illustrated haunting views of what seemed to be the Italian countryside and portraits of nameless figures dressed in Renaissance Era clothing.
Kim Manor might have seemed impressive to most, but this was opulence—the kind of atmosphere one would never find at my parent's stuffy business soirées.
Hell, even the dust bunnies in the corners probably wore crowns. The ceiling was miles away, obscured by countless gleaming chandeliers that seemed to cast more darkness than light.
Much like the people gliding across the floor beneath them.
Nearly every pale face sported a mask of some kind. Many were festooned with gleaming feathers, like mine, while others sported more animalistic features: fangs, wolfish eyes, snake scales and even the odd pair of horns.
Apparently, it was the Devil's masquerade.
Mother would have fainted. My sister, on the other hand, would have fit right in. Amongst it all, I felt as worthless as a mouse scurrying underfoot, which was a good thing, I supposed, because hidden within Lisa's shadow, I might as well have been invisible.
Keep your head down, Jennie, I told myself as I followed in her wake. Regardless, I couldn't resist sneaking little glimpses of the ballroom with every step. My own reflection greeted me from the surface of the gleaming marble floor, eyes wide from behind that mask.
I kept waiting for something to snap at us from the shadows, something threatening enough to bolster the tension I could sense coiled within Lisa's shoulders—but whenever anyone did open their mouths, it was only to utter the same reverent greeting.
"Lisa."
With my eyes on the floor, I only caught a partial glimpse of the various figures that came forward; a woman in a pair of red heels greeted her politely. Two black loafers addressed her coldly, and a figure in silver stilettos sounded fearful.
The latter reaction appeared to be the norm.
Wherever we passed, those nearby seemed to withdraw. Lisa scared even the other monsters, it seemed, and I couldn't help recalling that phrase she loved to repeat: I am a creature, bound for hell.
What did that make everyone else?
She never returned a word anyone said to her, but with every step, her grip tightened. When we finally reached our apparent destination—a raised dais at the back of the room—she damn near broke my hand.
The surface of the dais was draped in blood-colored silk, reminiscent of a platform some Medieval King might hold court from. Only this ruler had opted for a sleek leather chaise rather than some stately throne. I knew instantly just who that was – who else but the mysterious Raphael could be the dark figure dominating the center of the platform?
I couldn't bring myself to really look at him just yet, so I stared down at the floor, counting the seconds that passed without any circulation to my right hand as Lisa's grip took on vice-like qualities.
"Lisa." The music died almost on cue, allowing the speaker's words to hit the air like their own distorted melody. "What a surprise."
I tried and failed to picture a face to go along with that voice. It was cold—the unnerving chill that resulted from an absolute lack of emotion: no hate, nor amusement, nor fear.
Nothing at all but ice.
"Raphael," Lisa replied and a shiver ran down my spine at the restraint in her tone.
When I glanced at her from the corner of my eye, I saw that her head was bowed in the same way one might to acknowledge a king—but something faint scorched the air. Hostility? Hatred?
Whatever it was tainted the atmosphere despite the show of respect. I figured that I was the only one who could sense the tension coiled in her muscles—by now, my poor fingers had lost all feeling.
"Surprise?" She echoed, as she returned to her full height. "Somi made your invitation seem like one I couldn't refuse ..."
"Well, I suppose that next time I shouldn't send my message through Somi," Raphael remarked in that unnervingly lifeless tone. "Perhaps, I should deliver it myself?"
Lisa's grip tightened, until I feared that the imprint of her fingers would be forever etched into my skin.
"Was there a reason that you requested an audience?" She asked without addressing what even I had enough sense to realize had been a threat.
"Does one require a reason to visit with an old friend?" Raphael wondered. He didn't seem to expect an answer. "Despite your years of …solitude, I would have never thought that I would have had to resort to requesting your presence, Lisa. However, if I am to be completely honest, I also desired to meet the illustrious Jennie Kim in person."
I stiffened at the way his tongue seemed to linger over my name, drawing it out in one sensuous line. I could feel his gaze taking me in—peering right through me.
"Well, here she is, as per your request," Lisa said.
"I can see that. And I must say that I am pleased to finally make her acquaintance—" There was a sudden displacement of air as a pale hand appeared outstretched beneath my nose, only the fingers were far too slender to have belonged to Lisa. "Welcome to my humble abode, Jennie. I must say, I was expecting ... Well, you look nothing like your sister."
I blinked. Rosé's reputation preceded her everywhere, it seemed; even the Devil's own soiree. I couldn't help but think that she would have known what to do in the midst of a manor full of vampires. I could picture her flashing a charming smile and fearlessly shaking Raphael's hand while they discussed her various exploits over wine.
I, on the other hand, could only stare.
His fingers hung in the air expectantly, daring me to take them. I wavered on what to do, but in the end Lisa made the decision for me. her grip receded, and she nudged me forward: take it!
I did. My fingers interlaced with Raphael's and I had to resist the urge to snatch my hand back immediately. The man was glacial. So cold that Lisa's chill seemed like an inferno in comparison. His touch lingered, and I had no choice but to finally look up.
If someone had asked me a second ago to name the most beautiful person I had ever seen, the answer would have been easy: Lisa. In a way, she still was, because Raphael was simply beautiful.
Gleaming black hair fell down his shoulders to frame a pale, angular face that was striking even without a mask. A simple black shirt and pants made him appear no less regal than the robes of a king. Like Mikhail and Lisa, he too wore a silver chain visible around his neck.
The chain itself was thicker than those of the other two, considerably so, and hanging from it was the curved body of a silver serpent with ruby-red eyes, and bared fangs. A shudder ran through me as I realized how similar it was to the creature that adorned the front of every contract book.
Regardless, at first glance, Raphael himself could have been summed up with one word: angelic. He was every bit as ethereal as his biblical namesake. Only those eyes ruined the façade. They were ageless—empty. I had no idea as to what impression he had of me, if any at all, when he finally pulled back.
"Welcome, Jennie." He gestured to the crowd with a wave of his hand—all of whom, I realized had turned to stare in our direction. "I trust that Lisa hasn't been too inhospitable?"
The words seemed like a question, but I knew—even before I felt that infamous grip return to my forearm in warning—not to answer him directly. I glanced at Lisa, who jerked her head once. No. The slight display of dominance did not go unnoticed by Raphael. His smile deepened as I struggled to choke out an answer.
"N-No."
The man continued to watch me, eyes fathomless. When he finally turned away, it was only to beckon to someone lurking in the corner. A second later, Mikhail appeared on the edge of the dais.
"My lord?" His eyes were now shielded by a wolfish mask, but I didn't miss the emotion that flickered through them as they darted over me: curiosity.
"Mikhail. Why don't you entertain Miss Kim? Lisa and I have much to discuss."
My heart sank to my toes. Mikhail seemed about as likely to 'entertain me' as a Doberman would a piece of steak. As if sensing my thoughts, the grip on my arm tightened even more.
"She could stay here." Lisa's voice was completely devoid of emotion, but she released me as if knowing the answer before Raphael even spoke.
"I don't think this topic would interest her," he replied. "It deals with some old ...friends of mine—you know the ones." He waited until Lisa nodded; the motion was laced with tension. "Well, it seems our 'message' was not very clear. They appear very determined to overstep—" His gaze cut to me. "Perhaps I need to be more firm in my correspondence?"
The words fell with all the subtlety of a nuclear bomb. Whispers exploded throughout the room, and the next thing I knew I was being shoved in Mikhail's direction.
"Go." The order in Lisa's tone was clear, but I couldn't resist one last look over my shoulder.
There was something in her eyes again …
Only this time, it was easy to name what it was: fear.
Before I could fathom the reason for it, she turned to Raphael and I was shut out. I could only follow behind Mikhail, and try not to trip over the skirt of my gown as he led me across the ballroom and through a set of doors.
I shuddered to find myself inside of what seemed to be a dimly lit drawing room. The walls were the same bloody red that adorned the rest of the manor, and spread throughout, several pale figures lounged on various pieces of furniture.
"A new toy, Mikhail?" a woman in burgundy asked from a velvet chaise. She lowered her violet mask to cast me an appraising glance. "She's a little scrawny for your taste, isn't she?"
Mikhail didn't even spare a glance in her direction.
Instead, he headed for a sleek sofa in the center of the room and threw himself across it. His eyes brushed over me once before settling on the wall behind my head, as if the antique wallpaper was far more interesting.
"Meet Jennie Kim," he announced in a dry tone—though, I figured his nonchalance was more for dramatic effect than anything else.
A hush fell over the room and I could only stand utterly still as what had to be ten pairs of eyes took me in.
"Jennie Kim?" In a blur of black silk, another woman appeared before me, frowning from behind her ruby-red mask. "She looks nothing like I had imagined. For all the gossip one might think she looked like her sister. At least that one seems worthy of the hype—"
"Why would it matter?" someone else countered. "Raphael wanted her simply to prove a point to the Grayne. Maybe now they will learn their place."
"Enough." Mikhail raised his hand. "Let's not frighten our guest."
He sounded polite, but his tone conveyed another meaning: Shut up before you say too much. Regardless, my mind was already struggling to register the strange words. Grayne. The other one—Rosé?
"I wonder if all the rumors are true?" The woman in black mused with a thoughtful tilt of her head. "Regardless of her purpose, they say Lisa bought her contract specifically. she never buys anyone—"
"Except for that shiftspinner she's so fond of," another man interjected.
"Yes," the woman agreed, "but I doubt she fucks the shiftspinner."
My cheeks flamed at the coarse insinuation but something else distracted me from the shame—there was that strange word again. Shiftspinner. Could they be referring to Jisoo?
"She certainly went out of her way to purchase her at the auction," another voice added, snapping me from the thought. "Usually, she doesn't even bother to show up. I heard she had to bargain for her from Raphael himself—"
"Now, now," Mikhail scolded, wagging a pale finger. "Let's not gossip, my friends. Engorge your blabbering mouths instead. Have some refreshments."
He said the word so distinctly that I supposed I really shouldn't have been surprised when, at a snap of his fingers, two women appeared in the doorway.
They were dressed in the same way Somi's 'girls' had been back at the auction: dark silk, very little of it, cut to reveal as much skin as possible. But these women also sported another 'accessory', one so much more horrifying than anything else I had been presented with so far.
Inflamed, round puncture wounds dotted their bodies. Their arms, legs, and even the torsos visible through their skimpy costumes had all been brutalized by the markings. It didn't take much thought to guess what they were: bite marks, hundreds of them.
Something that Lisa had said ran across my mind in a whisper; never allow yourself to be bitten more than three times in one night.
Apparently, no one here had gotten the memo.
As I watched, Mikhail beckoned a woman closer with a wave of his hand. The moment she approached, he snatched her arm and held it flat. He observed the flesh the same way one might a picked-over buffet, appraising the few remaining options. Then, his upper lip pulled back from his teeth, revealing fangs that glinted in the light of a chandelier. I could only remain there, frozen in the center of the room as he bit down, groaning in response to the blood that flooded his mouth.
Red splattered his collar, while the woman swayed on her feet, eyes unnaturally empty …soulless.
The room blurred. I could sense the others shifting and more women entering, but nothing registered until a cold hand fell over my shoulder, accompanied by a deep voice that sent a shiver racing down my spine.
"Whose pet is this?"
"That one's mine."
I turned, forgetting all about the creature behind me as my eyes fell over the one standing in the doorway.
Lisa's expression was as glacial as always, but this time there was a darkness in her eyes that seemed to make everyone in the room instinctively flinch back. Even I could sense what it was: possession.
"Jennie." She raised an eyebrow and that was the only warning I needed to rush over and follow her down the hall.
I held my breath with every step, unwilling to release it until she pulled me into an empty drawing room and closed the door behind us. A cream-colored chaise rested against a wall lined with elegant wallpaper and adorned by the portrait of a pale woman in a medieval gown.
"I trust you've been enjoying yourself," Lisa spoke from behind me. "Have you sampled the menu? I hear they have delectable options …"
I couldn't see her face. I didn't want to. Instead, I merely stood there, enduring her mocking tirade as my face heated with shame. Every time I blinked, I saw those women—their empty, haunted faces.
I didn't realize, until a cold hand fell over the small of my back, that I had been trembling. Goosebumps prickled as two of her fingers lingered there, imparting ice. The contact wasn't reassuring—more acknowledging, as if she had had to touch me just to make sure that my response was real.
How pleased she must have been. Finally, I was playing my part by living up to her flair for the dramatic. All that was missing now were the 'sobs and hysterics.' I waited for her to insinuate as much, but when she finally spoke, her tone caught me off guard.
"You can choose to believe me or not …but I did not want you to see that."
"Is that what you want me to be?" There was no need to elaborate on what I meant. Broken. Dead. A zombie.
"You signed the contract," She replied—but the next second her hands moved to my shoulders, turning me to face her. she cupped my chin, forcing me to meet her gaze. "However, I wouldn't get any pleasure from breaking you, if that's what you mean. You're much too stubborn."
The words seemed truthful, but I couldn't—or maybe wouldn't?—believe her.
Contract be damned. There was more to this than some slip of paper. I didn't want to think so. It was so much easier to just believe that I was some mousy waif she'd picked up on a whim—but even Somi had alluded to the truth.
You didn't think she just picked you out of the crowd, did you?
"What do you want from me?"
Lisa raised a blond eyebrow and seemed to mull it over. "The truth?"
I nodded into her palm.
"I want you. You're smart, Jennie," She clarified. "When put to the test, you manage to succeed, though, I have no idea how. Your loyalty could prove invaluable to me."
"My … My loyalty?"
My mind was stuck somewhere on I want you.
"Let me ask you something." She frowned and her hand fell down to her side. "Why did you accept my bargain?"
"It wasn't like I had much of a choice," I said, recalling her methods of persuasion, including that mid-morning intrusion into my bedroom.
"You're lying." Her tone had hardened. The icy mask was back in place. My answer had irritated her—though, for once, I had no idea what I might have said wrong. "I want the truth, Jennie. Why did you accept my bargain?"
"I-I don't understand." I wracked my brain for the memories of that first day when I had met her in the hospital. "I suppose it was because I needed to tell my sister in person. I want her to look after my cat when I—"
"Wrong again." she took a step towards me and then another, swiftly backing me into a corner. My back hit the surface of the cream wallpaper with its delicate golden filigree. The color reflected in Lisa's gaze, making her eyes smolder.
"You seem to be unwilling to admit the obvious," She observed while stalking close enough that her breath fanned the hollow of my throat. "So shall I say it for you? You, the pathetic, dreary heiress, were nothing more than bored."
Bored? The word ran through me on a current of shock. It was a long moment before I managed to gather enough of my senses to attempt to respond.
"P-Pardon me, Lisa, but I'd much rather read a Jane Austen novel during my downtime instead of selling my goddamned soul."
"And I'm sure you believe that wholeheartedly," she agreed with a nod. "I assume that, after twenty-six dull years of life, you've convinced yourself of a lot of things, Jennie. I'm here to tell you that it's all lies. Deep down in your little soul, you know that you were suffocating …and that I offered you a way out."
A way out? Those three little words had the same effect on me as a vicious slap to the face. My head reeled back. Heat flooded my cheeks.
"Well, how gallant of you," I choked out turning on my heel. "You don't know anything."
This was too much. I was done with humoring Dracula and his cohorts. It was time to go home—back to the pampered life she seemed to think I wanted an escape from.
Eager to do just that, I meant to breeze past her, nose in the air like a good, snotty socialite—and the Lisa Manoban I thought I knew and loathed would have gladly let me prance away.
Only she caught me by the wrist and dragged me back so fiercely that I stumbled into a chest made of stone.
"I offered you life, Jennie," She hissed into my ear. "And not in the poetic sense. You aren't afraid of death, oh no. You welcome it. You're not afraid of dying any more than you're afraid of me—though, I'm sure that you've convinced yourself of the opposite."
I struggled to pull away, but her grip tightened, holding me immobile. "Let me—"
"I may haunt your nightmares, Jennie," she said over me, "but when you wake up from those nightmares, you know that it isn't fear making your heart pound like mad in your chest. It isn't fear surging through your veins. You almost had me fooled …but to you, this is all nothing more than a game."
She finally let me go and I staggered away. Her disgust pierced me, right down to the bone—but shame and hurt weren't why my body trembled like mad.
It was rage.
"A game?"
First she terrorized me and then wanted to claim that she was the victim? Mean, bored Jennie, how dare she play along with the Devil's game.
"Forgive me," She said, "'Game' suggests the participation of both parties. To you, this is simply entertainment. What do you fancy me as, Jennie? A dancing bear? A caged tiger? Does your stomach flip excitedly whenever I bare my fangs?"
"I-I don't know what the hell you're talking about—"
"Stop lying to yourself," She snarled. "The sensible, meek woman you pretend to be would have never gotten into the car that first night. She would have called the police. She wouldn't still be here now."
"Oh really?" I croaked.
A part of me wanted to suffer the insults in silence, hold my chin up high and allow her to spew the tirade that, I supposed, had been building within her all this time. Any other day I most likely would have—even now, my mother's words berated me from the grave. Decorum, Jennie! Decorum!
But she couldn't hold me back this time.
It took two steps to reach her and I had to crane my neck back just to see her face. her eyes were cold, glacial. I didn't think I'd ever seen her so visibly angry, not even when she dealt with Somi.
"I find nothing 'entertaining' about being tormented by some ass who fancies herself the Devil," I said, mustering every ounce of strength I had to put into my voice. I had no idea where the ice in my tone came from, or the scorn. I was channeling Margaret Kim in all her pretentious glory and I hated myself for sinking to her level. "Maybe I'm not afraid of you," I lied, "but why would I be, when all you do is berate me for taking the choice that you offered me in the first place?"
"Oh?"
I knew right then that I had just leapt over some invisible line and there was no going back.
"I haven't even begun to scratch the surface of what I could ...would do to you, Jennie," Lisa began, taking a step forward to bolster the threat. "But if nothing scares you …"
She lunged.
Cold hands seized my waist, ruthlessly cinching the thin fabric of my gown as she yanked me forward. I had no warning. No chance to react. her jaw nudged mine, forcing me to tilt my head back. Her mouth hovered somewhere along my lower lip imparting tendrils of ice. I gasped as the edge of one fang teased the rim of my mouth.
Then, she bit.
A burst of metallic flavor coated my tongue: salty, hot, blood. Fear exploded through my veins, but before I could even begin to struggle, she pushed me away.
I barely managed to catch myself against the wall.
"You don't want me to be an active participant in your little game," Lisa warned, unconcerned as I swayed on my feet. "So, I highly suggest you drop this 'little girl lost' routine, because if you want a real monster, Jennie, I would be more than happy to supply you with one."
With a casual motion, she swiped some scarlet liquid from her chin with her thumb. Her fangs flashed in a flicker of ivory, streaked with red. My heart seized at the sight—but for once it wasn't because of fear.
I hated the way warmth welled against my bottom lip.
I hated the way it stung. How the pain made me realize that it was the closest I had ever come to being kissed.
I hated her.
I doubted I even mentally processed the motion when I staggered forward. My hand flew out, seemingly disconnected from my body.
And I slapped her—hard.
She was so solid that it felt more like ramming the flat of my hand into concrete. Bones that I didn't even know existed screamed with pain.
Thwack! The sound resonated around the room and it felt …empowering, until the realization of what I had just done sank in only a second later.
My hand stung. I didn't recognize it. I barely recognized myself. And yet the one I'd just assaulted seemed unconcerned by the violence—pleased, even.
"There she is," She finally said. "The real Jennie Kim. Not that rich little bitch you pretend to be for everyone else. This is the woman who could be of use to me."
"You're mad." Helplessly, I stumbled back, unwilling to turn my back on her for even a second. "Stay away from me …"
"Funny," Lisa said, head tilted to the side. "I should be the one telling you those exact words. But I am done playing with you, Jennie."
I nearly jumped out of my skin as she shifted her weight to the balls of her feet. The expression on her face reminded me of the snarl of a wolf right before it tore into the throat of a bleeding doe.
Merciless.
"You may have been able to convince yourself that this is just some horrible predicament that you found yourself in through no fault of your own. But you and I both know the truth: you crave danger, Jennie. You surround yourself with creatures who only want to hurt you—" As if to emphasize that very point she eyed my shoulder, where Tinkles' scratches had faded beneath the remarkable healing properties of her 'cure.' "You desire pain. Admit it, and I could give you all the danger you desire."
Her voice was heavy with innuendo. More than sex, I sensed.
Violence.
Pain.
More.
It took everything I had in me just to shake my head.
"You're sick," I spat. Literally, specks of spittle landed on the toe of her shoe, but she didn't even seem to notice.
"And yet, I'm not the one who's dying. But I'll tell you what … Consider this an offer that you can't refuse."
Her gaze held me captive and …God help me, I couldn't turn away.
"You could leave right now," She told me. "Have your seven days. Spend them wasting away in your mansion, trying your hardest to convince yourself that everything I've said is nothing more than lies. I'll even send my car around to take you home. Or …"
I froze, terrified of what she might say next.
"Or, you and I make a new bargain. No more lies. No more pretending. I don't want Jennie Kim, dowdy heiress extraordinaire. I want the woman who stripped naked before a stranger because she was too damn stubborn to take the easy way out."
"You don't know anything about me," I whispered, finally desperate enough to make a break for the door.
Surprisingly, she let me go, and I knew even as I started running that she wouldn't follow. Still, her parting words chased me over the threshold on an icy gust of air.
"You have twenty-four hours …"