Emptiness pooled within me, eventually consuming the dread that had gripped my heart. I slumped weakly against Lord Fashire's iron grip, My eyes welled up as the empty feeling inside grew. It was over. This was the end. I was going to die. I was truly going to die.
What would become of my father now?
"Oh, well." Fashire held me by my elbow and dangled me like a rag doll. "My fun is ruined."
I didn't have the strength or energy to hold myself up anymore and my body just followed whatever direction his hand shifted. The flaring pain in my shoulder was now a dull ache as I grew faint. I prayed to at least die from the blood loss before he could do anything further.
"Venti," I heard Lady Gremlin speak up, a hint of panic in her voice. "You said something about her—"
"Don't be daft, Elaire," Lord Fashire addressed her. "I said what I said and you heard right!" He let go of me and I crumpled at his feet, dazed. "Then again, it truly was worthwhile watching the display of emotions this girl spat out." A wicked chuckle resonated within the hall.
"You're disgusting, Fashire," the bespectacled Lord said matter-of-factly, rising from his seat.
"As you've told me numerous times, Lorn." Fashire grinned, a disturbingly gleeful tone in his voice.
Lord Lorn's gaze shifted to me. "If I were to recall, your words were 'humans have found a way to mask as vampires' and the fact that she trotted around the castle grounds without us knowing any wiser says so. How did you come to know about this, Fashire?"
Lord Fashire chuckled in response.
"Venti, if you're telling the truth, then this is no laughing matter!" a Lord yelled, and the walls and floor rattled. "There are several unanswered questions about that… 'thing', and you mentioned something about humans…" he paused, lowering his voice to continue, "Who is this Strome that dares appoint a human to work here?" He faced Matadre, pointing an accusatory look her way. To my surprise, she didn't flinch. "And you—"
"Stop it. Do not fault her in this," Lord Lorn faced the other Lord, annoyance in his tone. "Unless you mean to say my servant is more observant than you are, then be my guest."
"Well, I don't particularly care," Lord Fashire announced, deadpanned, earning silence from the puzzled audience. "And I am sure I can leave it to you to get to the bottom of it all." He waved dismissively.
My heart dropped to my stomach and my shoulder throbbed. What did he mean by that? I didn't want anything to do with him, but the prospect of being thrown to a bunch of angry Lords was just as terrifying.
"Venti! You sick—"
Their violent outbursts faded into a rapid blur, just like the background and air around me. I found myself back in Lord Fashire's chambers and I collapsed to the ground as he dropped me. My stomach flipped and I dry heaved, nauseated by the sudden movement. My vision swam.
"Look at me," he spoke calmly, quietly, and thoughtfully. But his soft half-whisper caused an instant wave of chills to spring forth from within. I raised my head, forced against my will, and met Fashire dead set in the eyes.
"To the door on your left is the washroom." He gestured to the entrance on the side, the door which he had passed through to clean off my blood from his mouth earlier. "Strip and wash that nasty blood and sweat off you," he commanded, an obvious disdain in his tone at the mention of my blood. Then his voice went a timbre lower, "If I catch you 'trying' to escape, I will head into that sweet little village and your dear old man will meet a fate far worse than death."
My blood went cold and my eyes widened. Despair set in. He knew. Within that short time he had gotten the vial, he had been able to track down my father. No… This was bad. If he could find him and the others now knew about me, nothing was stopping them from finding him just as quickly and finishing him off.
I opened my mouth to speak and I stilled. Nothing came out. What was I even going to say? This Lord didn't bat an eye when I pleaded on my knees. There was no telling what slight mistake I would make that would eventually lead him to kill my father. From his interaction with the other Lords, he was that fickle.
'No. I have to ask.'
My throat tightened and my eyes watered with fresh tears. "They will find him," I whispered hoarsely and raised a shaky hand to my throat. It felt like needles had been shoved down there. Was it from all the begging and crying?
"Shh," he hushed, bending down on one knee before me. His cold palm touched my head and I stiffened, instinctively lowering my gaze. Chills relentlessly clamoured my scalp as he brushed my head down, continuously patting me. What was he doing? I couldn't make sense of this action. He whispered, "I couldn't find the sweet relative of yours who made this potion. And their residency has been vacant for over a year now…"
My spine straightened as I snapped my head up. No. That couldn't be. A vial only lasted a few months and I had collected around three from her… making this my last dose. Had she planned to abandon me from the start? She had never said anything about leaving. What if he was deceiving me to gouge out a reaction from me?
His hand came to rest at the base of my neck, a satisfied mocking smile spread across his features. I heard a low sizzle and started to smell burnt flesh. His fingers must be touching my blood for this to happen, but I couldn't find any flicker of pain in his features. He looked impassive. My pulse rose. He was trying to build resistance to my blood.
"She abandoned you. I see you have realised it too," he said. I sniffed, and a fresh batch of tears flowed down my cheeks. "Now, now, little lady." His hand tightened at my neck. "You look quite horrid when you cry."
He stepped away and straightened to his full height. His vivid eyes surveyed the floor and his nose wrinkled up in annoyance. I watched in horror at the trail of blood leading from the closed doors. The Lords would have already noticed the effect of my blood by now if they touched it and they could come barging in any moment now. What was going to happen to me after this?
"How careless of me," Fashire said, his voice not carrying the least bit of worry. "Then again, a normal human ought to have passed out from losing such a substantial amount of blood."
My hands twitched, tempted to touch my wound.
He was right. Why was I still alive and breathing?
With a flick of his wrist, the vial appeared in his hand. He ogled it once more. "I couldn't find the source for this, but with enough tests…" he dangled the bottle by its neck. "I'll get to the conclusion real soon." He glanced down at me, a predatory smile on his lips. "I do not like to repeat myself. I am sure I have just told you what to do."
I needed no further prompting, and dreading whatever new threats he would utter, I sprang upwards and staggered to the aforementioned door. My legs felt numb and each step sent a wave of pain through my body, exacerbating the agony in my shoulder. My wounded arm hung precariously, barely functional as I walked.
I held my arm in support and clenched my jaw, struggling not to cry out from the pain. I made it to the door and twisted the cold, silver knob. I rushed into the darkness and pulled the door shut. Leaning against the wooden surface, I slid down to the floor, my back pressed against the door.
There, in the embrace of darkness, I let the tears flow freely, with my throat constricted, and my chest, heavy. How deeply entangled was I in this wretched mess? What was I going to do now? How would the servants treat me in the days to come? Becca's betrayed eyes flashed in my mind, intensifying my anguish. I clutched my arm tighter, sitting still as pain washed over me, rolling down my arm and the rest of my body in slight waves. Something was soothing about it. It pushed away my worries, even if it was for a moment…
"Venti," a low grumble resonated through the air, and I stiffened as another presence entered Lord Fashire's chamber. I hadn't heard any door open. Nor had I perceived any footsteps. But the menacing tone in that voice was enough to root me to the spot. "Where is the girl?"