JENNIE
The vicious specter of doubt chased me through a nightmarish maze. I couldn't escape it, assaulted by its cruel taunts. You're pathetic, Jennie. Pathetic…
I awoke, gasping as panic formed a noose around my throat more restraining than the binds still pinning me in place. Straining my shoulders, I struggled to sit up, blinking my eyes open to the morbidly decorated ceiling above. A twisted sense of relief slowed my frantic heartbeat by a fraction. I was still in that room.
And someone remained beside me, brushing the sweat-soaked curls from my face.
"You're safe."
I turned toward the sound of her voice.
She hadn't moved from her position on the side of my bed, even though I sensed I'd slept for hours at least. "Jennie?" she sounded worried.
Should she have been? I wasn't sure. I needed to move. I needed to think.
"I…I think I just need to use the restroom…"
The corner of her jaw twitched, betraying her thoughts in a way I'd never been able to interpret before: suspicion. She didn't trust me.
"This isn't the first time you've woken up seemingly lucid," she murmured, more to herself than to me. Her eyes narrowed over my hands as they grasped at the sheets, yet she made no attempt to free me. "How do you feel?"
I took my time answering. She was cautious for a reason, and I sensed a need to make my reply as coherent as possible.
"Sore," I admitted finally. "And my arm hurts. And my throat."
Some of the tension constricting her brow eased. "Your wounds need to be healed, but you've been refusing to drink my blood. Dmitri's had to rebandage you at least four times. It's a miracle you haven't bled out. We couldn't even inject you because you fought like hell every time, even while sedated." Her mouth softened further.
Was my Devil impressed?
But her words only emphasized what Dmitri himself had hinted at. This is the fifth iteration of this damn speech I've delivered…
"I still feel strange," I added hoarsely. "Like my thoughts are scattered and… But I don't want to hurt myself."
Her gaze flickered to my right arm, tracing the length of bandage wrapped from wrist to shoulder, but the pathetic note in my voice must have been enough to overcome her concern. For now.
She approached the limb closer to her. With some sleight of hand I couldn't make out, she undid the manacle—a strip of thick, black silk—and placed it on the nearby end table. I flexed my fingers carefully, hissing as blood returned to them. But I kept the rest of my body still, avoiding any sudden movements. Watching me like a hawk, Lisa circled around to my opposite side and did the same.
Freedom hurt. I groaned as I stretched my limbs and attempted to sit upright. Lisa assisted me, utilizing her touch where I lacked the strength. Despite how my muscles were throbbing, it felt good to move. Even while being observed with an intensity most men might reserve for a lab rat.
Unnerved by her concern, I decided that my best option was to utilize it. "Help me up."
I extended my uninjured arm, allowing her to pull me to my feet. From this angle, the rest of the unfamiliar bedroom unfolded before me. With every detail, the unease within my skin grew into an itching dread. It was large, as cavernous as Lisa's cathedral. Dark walls lacked a window, instead sporting exquisite macabre paintings depicting images of war and violence.
Marble floors were adorned with Persian rugs woven with intricate designs composed of gold and ebony threads. A fireplace—black stone carved into the open maw of a serpent—yawned against the far wall and the fire roaring within basted my skin with what little heat I felt.
"Come here." Lisa approached, her hands raised as if to ensure she didn't startle me.
Once satisfied by my reaction, she lifted me into her arms, and within seconds, we were in an adjacent bathroom, the interior of which was no less extravagant than the bedroom. And just as imposing.
A large sunken tub had been cut within the center of the marble floor. Lisa set me down near the edge of it. Her touch lingered along my arm as if to gauge whether or not I'd suddenly try attacking myself. Then she withdrew to the corners of the room, fetching various supplies.
Overall, the layout resembled how I figured an ancient Roman bath might. Golden columns accented the space at various intervals, and a large mirror consumed an entire wall alone. Once I saw my reflection on its surface, I failed to muster up the energy to even gasp. My skin lacked definition, my cheeks sunken and hollow.
I looked more dead than alive.
No wonder Lisa seemed unwilling to leave me unattended for very long. She returned to my side and guided me into the basin of the tub. There, she stripped my thin nightgown and ran the water.
The nuances of her expression eluded me once more, so I observed my skin instead. A thick length of bandages covered my right arm from wrist to shoulder. Crimson splotches betrayed signs of fresh bleeding, but I wasn't brave enough to check the wounds underneath. My throat was another matter. I ran my finger over it, sensing uneven, inflamed skin that matched the violent array of scratches my reflection revealed.
"You need blood," Lisa warned as the water lapped up my sides. "You need to eat."
She sounded hesitant and I couldn't help but wonder why. Though maybe I already knew. I'd been so hysterical that she'd had no choice but to bind me just to keep me from hurting myself.
"How was I poisoned?" I asked as she settled behind me.
"Methodically. You were never given blood from the same person twice," she said. "From the outset, I knew to source anything I gave you carefully. Every drop came from donors I considered to be the highest quality and least susceptible to corruption. For you to receive the dose you did, each one of them must have consumed trace levels of the poison long before I drew a drop from their veins."
Her gruff tone conveyed just how elaborate a scheme the level of planning revealed. Someone cunning enough to outsmart even her best efforts.
All part of a systematic scheme meant to infect me.
"Anyway, I'm not offering you human blood this time." As she spoke, she withdrew something from her pocket. A small, thin blade—small enough, I realized, that should I grab it, I wouldn't be able to do much damage to myself. "Do be a good girl," she said as she slashed the blade across her wrist, drawing a line of blood. "You've bitten me with every attempt before now. Admittedly, it wasn't very pleasant."
"I did?" My skull throbbed. "I can't remember."
She stroked my cheek. "Drink."
A million questions bubbled beneath the surface as I eyed the smooth skin of her wrist. Like how did she know if her blood alone would even sustain me? What happened if she was carrying the poison as well? And most importantly, was there some proper etiquette to follow while feeding from a vampire?
In the end, her free hand caught the back of my neck, guiding me forward.
My lips parted, allowing a sliver of liquid between them. The moment her taste registered, I no longer required coaxing. I lunged, gripping her arm to keep it in place as deep, ravenous pulls racked my body. Perhaps the fact that I was starving was the catalyst, but she tasted better than good. Better than sin. I drowned in her flavor, craving more…and more…more…
It was like surfacing from an eternity spent submerged beneath water when I finally came up for air, unbearably full. Regardless, my tongue was already chasing what few drops I hadn't managed to swallow.
Fully prepared, Lisa brought a wet cloth to my chin and dabbed it along my bottom lip. "Already, you look better," she murmured, a rare hint of praise.
I glanced at the mirror, which seconded her claim. Color gradually returned to my skin. The pain lessened. I didn't feel quite as dizzy, and my thoughts felt easier to grasp and decipher.
Like the threat still looming above our heads, for instance.
"What about you?" I eyed her over my shoulder. "What if the poison is in your system—"
"It doesn't affect me, which is why I didn't sense its corruption until it was too late. No matter… From now on, I will take the necessary precautions."
What they might be? She didn't explain, leaving it at that.
By then, the water had reached a comfortable height, and she set about washing me thoroughly from head to toe. My body sang beneath the ministrations, and once again, I wondered just how long I'd been strapped to the bed.
Which brought up an even bigger question.
"Where are we?" I supposed deep down I knew at least part of the answer—nowhere good. Much like the bedroom, a decidedly 'serpentine' theme continued even in here. The water fixture on the bathtub was in the shape of a snake, spitting water in the place of venom through golden fangs.
Lisa ran a cloth across my shoulders, seemingly too intent on her task to respond.
I tried again. "Dmitri said something about an enclave—"
"You're safe," she said, parting my hair with her fingers.
A moan caught in my throat. I arched into her touch before I could help it, relishing the surprisingly pleasurable sensation of her chill on my scalp.
"You no longer seem determined to harm yourself, at least."
I shivered, glancing at my bandaged arm. There was no use in avoiding it any longer. Gritting my teeth, I fingered the end of the strip and began to unwind it as Lisa's hands stilled.
Once the entire length had come undone, pale, untouched flesh was revealed underneath. The properties of Lisa's blood never ceased to leave me speechless. A few sips of it and I was already healing. Yet I had no trouble imagining the carnage that had marred the limb just minutes before. Damage I had done. The crumpled bandage conveyed as much, splattered with alarming amounts of scarlet liquid.
"It felt so real," I whispered in horror. "All of it."
"Even the doubts?" She sounded unusually calm as she continued to detangle my matted curls. "That I didn't care about you? That I couldn't love you?"
"Yes." I hunched over myself, drawing my knees to my chest. I eyed the mirror across from us, marveling at the scene it showed. Lisa Manoban, crouched in the water behind me, studiously arranging my damp curls. "It doesn't matter. I know that—"
"Should I say it now?" Her mouth lingered over my shoulder as she moved her attention to washing my back. "To counter him should he ever steal inside your mind again? At least then you'd have heard it once."
I couldn't breathe—equally alarmed and fearful. Even now, doubt festered somewhere inside me, fighting to resurface. Once acknowledged, it gleefully feasted on my unease. Her love would be a lie. A lie…
"No," I insisted, shaking my head. "I can ignore it."
"I suppose you might require some token to assist in that quest." Lowering the cloth, she lifted my hand from the water, extending the fingers for her inspection.
In confusion, I looked down, frowning as something caught the light. Something small, encircling my finger.
Recognition prickled through my chest.
"My ring…" Only it wasn't. A fact made apparent as I drew it closer for inspection and realized the gold band shone far too brilliantly. Real? A delicately thin band, it encased a stunning blue stone far too beautiful to be formed of cheap plastic.
A replica, but one recreated of materials that I sensed were a million times the worth of the original design.
"Love is an archaic concept, I must admit." Lisa sighed, brushing her lips against my throat as she spoke. "But I suppose we could name it that. What I feel for you. Love, in a sense."
As her fingers traced the pulse quickening in my arm, I quaked, too stunned to speak.
"So remember that the next time you dare to slice into this flesh. Every inch belongs to me."
My lips parted, a startled laugh escaping them. Only she could turn a romantic confession into a threat. But the reaction made her brace me more firmly, her body molding to mine.
Her thumb brushed my jaw, urging me to face her. "Look at me."
Her eyes burned, nearly impossible to meet head-on—but in this arena, she offered no reprieve. Our lips met, the kiss slower than any other. Deeper. In it, I sensed more than she could ever convey out loud. Anything. Everything.
Enough to silence the remnants of the voices the way sunlight scattered roaches.
"I dearly hate to interrupt…"
I jumped at the intrusion. Before I could cover myself with my hands, Dmitri appeared near the mouth of the bathroom. Not even a heartbeat later, Lisa stood toe-to-toe with him, obscuring any view he might have glimpsed.
"Pardon the interruption," Dmitri simpered as he was promptly herded from the room. "But I figured that you would prefer hearing this from me. He requests an audience with you and her." He waved in my direction over Lisa's shoulder. "I take it one of his little spies told him she was up and moving. You knew he wouldn't wait for long. Not when you've come crawling back so conveniently into his control."
"Who?" I croaked, snatching for a nearby towel. Dread thickened my throat as I stood, drawing the material around me. Again, I suspected that a part of me already knew the answer.
"You didn't tell her?" Dmitri remarked, practically singing with glee. "Oh my. Well, this will be quite a shock. I'll save you the trouble. Raphael requested your audience, my darling Jennie. Though I take it you've met our dear, dear mutual friend already?"
That I had.
"He suggested you dress for dinner," Dmitri added as his giddy footsteps retreated. "Oh…and, and Jennie?" He poised his next statement as if knowing the exact moment I'd flinch in response. "Welcome to the enclave."