Chapter Six ~Serenity~

Vondorian locked himself away during the daylight hours. Retreating late in the morning after some more informal chatting with Lord Davros, our current situation was draining even for someone as masterful as him. Controlling the young girl, filling her with his purest essence, masking his vampiric features, and influencing those around him was taking its toll. Exhaustion had taken over his otherwise flawless features, and inside I was delighted by that. His mind and energy so busied in his ventures I was now free, his voice no longer whispering to me in relentless repetition. There was nothing but my own thoughts, my own voice. I felt liberated as I sat outside his room standing guard.

I sat in a chair watching the servants pass throughout the day, some whispered as they went by, exchanging rumors about the mysterious gentleman guest, and his strong female warrior who overpowered their resident hero. Others eyed the door behind me as they hurried by. Either way, this wing of the manor seemed to be a very busy place as my master slept.

He wasn't like other vampires that required a safe haven from the daylight sun, his skin was unaffected by the rays that would burn others of his kind. I figured this tolerance to sunlight had something to do with his age. Vampires became more powerful with each passing year. Perhaps my master had grown so old that the sunlight had given up trying to make him its prisoner. I too was left with this advantage, the sun held no control over me, but that had nothing to do with my age. Vampires far beyond my years didn't have this ability, and the speculation for my immunity ranged from the most absurd to the simplest of explanations. The only thing the others could agree on was that whatever I was, it wasn't a vampire.

Regardless of this resistance to sunlight, my master still liked to sleep during the day and flex his fangs at night. There was something about the vampire folklore that excited him, the idea that his habits might inspire an age-old fear of creatures spoken about decades before true civilization was established.

Whatever the reason there was no curse for him to be a vampire, no shame in it. His immortality was a thrill, an exploratory experience in which he was determined to master. I envied him that. For me being an immortal, even if only partly so, was a private hell, a lowly suffering that even the most reluctant of vampires could not comprehend. I suffered by the second. I deserved it.

Releasing a relaxed breath I took in the sight from the window to my left. The steady downpour of rain had lasted all day and now as the sun set the clouds filled with a dulled maroon hue. Murky and diluted from the usual bright vibrant colors of the sunset, I could relate to that solemn rainy sky because I felt the same. When not over powered by Vondorian's seduction or the animalistic cravings of my creature there was nothing but a dull ache. A constant lingering of a shame and guilt that followed me everywhere, it haunted my mind when everything else had grown still and silent. I never used to hurt like this, so why now?

“Serenity?” a voice asked from my right, the sandy-haired boy peeked his head around the corner. “That's your name correct, Serenity?” he asked again and I nodded in response.

He came toward me, a nervous fidget in his hands. His fingers fumbled over each other like they were trying to grasp something. Those inexperienced foot falls of his stopped a few feet away and I directed my gaze to the aging gray wall in front of me, annoyed by his timid appearance.

“I thought you might like to know that guard you attacked is all right. A broken wrist but still nothing time won't heal.”

I remained silent, in all honesty I wished the man dead. The part of me still subjected to Vondorian's influence wished him a long, painful death. Something slow, torturous with lots of blood just to ease my master's troubled mind. One less stress in this growing complicated endeavor.

“Maybe it will please you to know he has been dismissed from his duties?” the boy said again, a slight change in his tone, like he was trying to get me to respond. Why was he even here?

“I feel no pleasure in knowing a man has been excused for simply warning of danger. You and your lord would do well to acknowledge such warnings and heed them.”

The boy let out a nervous laugh. I caught his expression from the corner of my eye. The look on his face held hesitation as if he didn't know whether to laugh or rush and warn his lord as I had suggested. He didn't turn and run off so he must have settled on the idea it was a joke. If he only knew...

Silence replaced his nervous laughter, and though I had hoped to see him gone, when I looked in his direction he was still standing there. His eyes were fixed on my uncloaked body scanning up and down, green eyes detailing every curve that wasn't hidden under my attire. The boy’s imagination seemed to fill in the rest, something I glimpsed as I invaded his thoughts, reading through the desire that I stirred in him. The ability to peer into minds, to invade someone’s innermost conscience was both a blessing and a curse. A blessing that I could read others thoughts, take in their strategies, or even learn things about them they didn't know. My abilities left little limitation in what I could access in both a strong and weak mind.

The curse came because my abilities left me vulnerable. My master had focused my training on invasionary practices, not in defense. It left me open to outside invasion, and I could not halt my mental scanning like others with the gift could. My mind was always glimpsing at the surface of everyone's thoughts. Taking in hundreds of internal voices that rambled on with meaningless chatter. Over the years it had just become background noise, but it never left me with any true peace.

This boy's typical surface thoughts were that of advancement, repeating to himself to maintain his appearance and to be aware of when the young Victoria's gaze was upon him. Going beyond the surface all I could sense was lust, pure primal lust. Lust for me and the thrill he imagined in making me submit to him. Fantasies of how he would take me already filtered through his mind, but I wasn't the first. His head was filled with past conquests, of nights spent in sweaty passion with each and every maid in the manor. Of women in the royal court, and even strangers he had met on the highway.

Victoria was not among those memories that he so clung to. The girl loved a letch and there was no emotions or feelings of love toward the young girl in his mind. Instead just greed, endless greed and satisfaction at deflowering her before she was sent to marry the prince.

Poor child. If she only knew of the power she could hold over these men, maybe she would have a fighting chance. Instead they would ruin her if I hadn't already marked her for death.

His green eyes stilled their wandering when they caught mine. He was young. A young foolish boy, slender, awkward with a charming smile and scars from battles or training. I could see the appeal he had to offer when he grinned at me. Yes, he was a catch compared to the other older men around the manor. A first class hero knighted by the king himself, bedding him was an honor.

I'm not that desperate.

“Marcus!” a female growled.

The woman whom had so easily avoided my warrior senses approached from down the darkening hall. She wore a stern look on that olive colored face, with crossed arms glaring at Marcus.

“Do you not have better things to attend?”

Marcus flushed a red color and his eyes fluttered about in panic. This woman was some type of authority around the manor. She held some type of high position, maybe more than adviser by the way she commanded the boy. I made a mental note as he rushed off around the corner. The woman stood there for a long time looking at me, as if trying to figure out some great mystery.

“You're a servant?” her question held a bit of disbelief. I only nodded in response. “Just a servant? Or a protector? A concubine? Mate?” she listed off various professions a woman could do for a man like the noble Vondorian presented himself as. “A loyal pet?”

The last suggestion struck a deep cord inside me, my mortal self wept in pity and shame, and the creature growled wanting to rip that word from her lips. “I do many things for my lord, as I’m sure you do for yours.” I knew there was nothing between her and the master of the house, but the implication was still there. A lazy attempt at a strike to impart the same reaction her words had on me. Instead all I received was a knowing smirk, this woman seemed to have pulled the truth out of me. Grasped it from my mind when even I couldn't.

“Dinner will be served shortly. Lord Davros requests you both in attendance,” she said with a smug tone before turning and disappearing down the hall.