5 Slave

Bridget

I meet the head human slave girl, Marilyn, and she immediately goes about, digging out stuff that I could wear as a slave.

This is…different.

I was totally expecting to die, but perhaps Lucien has other plans for me…such as making me serve him.

“There are not a lot of rules around here,” Marilyn says, clearly having the role of being the human mother to all the girls here. “But I think a few of the most important is to never call the Don by his first name in front of him or any of his men. They will report you quite quickly and you will receive a punishment. And can you, as a human, imagine what a punishment from a vampire consists of?”

I shake my head and Marilyn gives me a kind look. “Don’t test them, little bug. I can tell you have a fire in your soul.”

I give her a small nod and she smiles.

“Don’t burn the vampires, but don’t let them put it out, either,” she says. “A few other rules would be to not disrespect the Don’s mistresses. Layla, the black hair with blue eyes, that’s his favorite and she gets away with everything.”

“Figures,” I say, then bite the inside of my cheek. “Marilyn?”

“Yes?”

“How long have you been here?”

“Twenty years,” she says. “I’m the oldest slave girl here.”

“Have you ever thought of…?”

“No,” she says instantly. “There is no way. You’d have to be here a long time to plan it out, and by then, all the vampires will know you by your scent. Once you even dare go through the woods, they’ll find you before you even reach the river. They are fast, strong, and unsatiable creatures, Bridget. Don’t, for the love of God, be stupid. You’ll die.”

I give a brisk nod before two girls come in.

“You!” a blonde points to me. “Get to the kitchen, now!”

Marilyn gives me a little encouraging push and I follow the bitch out into the kitchen.

“Clean the floor,” she says, pushing a broom into my hand. “The others will serve the vampires, then the mistresses, and then we shall eat.”

I give her a look.

“What?” she asks.

“Does it look like I’m hungry in any sort of a way?” I ask her, and she scowls at me.

“Attitudes don’t last long here, new girl,” she snaps back at me.

“You’re the one talking,” I say, and she grows angry.

“Don’t disrespect your own species!” she hisses at me. “What are you trying to do, die by my hands?”

“I’m nobody’s maid, darling,” I tell her, and she looks shocked for a moment, then laughs.

“Let’s see how long your insubordination lasts, girl,” she says, then goes to the stove and lifts a lid on a pot, letting out the smell of a roast. It makes my stomach nudge me a little bit, but I ignore it and continue to sweep the dirt up off the floor.

In a flash, a girl appears in the room, and begins to look around. I take her blindingly fast speed to mean that she’s a vampire.

Her blue eyes land on me and I notice she has raven black hair. She must be Layla, Lucien’s favorite.

“Who are you?” she barks out.

“Bridget,” I answer quietly, and she laughs lightly.

“Lucien always has a thing for human girls with older style names,” she notes, then examines me from head to foot, then scowls. “Rosanna!”

The girl who I was just arguing with turns around.

“Yes, Miss Layla?”

“Doesn’t Marilyn have a looser fitting uniform for Bridget? I don’t need her flaunting her assets around Lucien!”

I snort, then pull my laugh back into check. Both women look at me.

“Was there something funny about that, slave?” Layla hisses at me, her eyes turning red.

“No offense, Layla, but I could give a shit about your Don,” I say, and her face twists from anger to pure shock. “I’m not interested.”

Rosanna blinks in astonishment, while Layla studies me, debating her next move. I thought these creatures were supposed to be smart.

“You do understand that you’re at the lowest of low position here, right?” Layla asks, her voice no longer holding any venom. She sounds genuinely intrigued by me. I must be a new kind of human being to her. Someone who isn’t quite apt to follow orders from a creature that’s not my own.

“Of course,” I say quickly, plastering a fake smile on my face. Layla blinks again in surprise. I must be one damn thing after another to her.

“Then why are you talking to me?”

“You engaged the conversation by asking who I was,” I point out, setting the broom against the wall. I pull on the hem of the black skirt and adjust the dark blue top before letting out a breath.

“True,” Layla muses. “But after that, I stopped talking to you.”

“Last time I checked, I was on American soil,” I say, and Layla cocks her head to the side. I guess she is more stupid than she is anything else. Maybe that’s why Lucien likes her so much—he can do anything to her because she’s a literal dumbass.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means that anyone on this soil has a right to use the United States Constitution as their grounds for human liberty,” I say, and she blinks again.

“Can you use English?”

“I am.”

Layla balls her hands into fists. “I didn’t go to school, bitch.”

“Oh,” I say, then smirk. “Well, that sounds like a personal problem. But what I mean is that I have a right to the freedom of speech, which is entailed in the first Amendment.”

Layla’s face drops of all emotion.

“You know what?” she hisses. “I don’t need education. I’m higher than you are, so don’t speak to me, and if you keep talking back to me, I’m going to report you to Lucien. Understand?”

“And what’s he going to do? Choke me again?” I stare right into her menacing blue eyes. “Fact check: I’m not afraid of death.”

Layla removes herself from the room in two seconds while Rosanna stares at me with her mouth open.

“You are one damn brave soul,” she says, then goes back to the pot, sprinkling paprika and red pepper flakes on it.

I pick up the broom and ignore Rosanna’s comment.

A few moments later, a brunette girl, who I can tell is human, comes in and starts loading food upon a food tray.

But that is quickly interrupted by a redheaded swoosh of air that knocks the girl across the room.

My reflexes go to spring to action, but I hold it in check.

What the hell just happened?

Rosanna continues stirring like nothing just happened.

“How dare you make a move on my man?” the redhead shrieks at the brunette, her pale skin shining white against the light of the ceiling. “What’s wrong with you? You’re human, bitch, human!”

The brunette whimpers something in reply, while my blood slowly begins to boil.

When she goes to smack the brunette across the face, my hand intercepts and I roughly push the redhead away, her body slamming back into the cabinet. She goes through the cabinet and cleaning supplies spill all over her body. My chest heaves in anger.

“What the fuck is wrong with you people!” I yell. “These are human girls! They cannot take this damn abuse! Where is the morality these days?!”

The redhead is so shocked that when Alec comes into the room, she is still standing there, covered in cleaning powder and various sprays.

“What the hell is going on in here?” he asks Rosanna, and Rosanna quickly informs him of everything.

Alec sighs and pinches his nose, then looks up at me. My green eyes meet his blue ones and for a moment, I see a look of awe cross his face before it vanishes and he looks between the redhead and the brunette.

“Rowan,” he says to the redhead. “Shelia didn’t make a move on Cody. He approached Sheila and took her during the slave break hour. Don’t blame Sheila.”

“She could have said no!” Rowan hisses, suddenly coming to life. She takes a step towards me and I give her a murderous glare.

“Careful, bitch,” I hiss at her. “I might turn into Bridget the Vampire Slayer again.”

Rowan takes a step back and then looks at Alec before storming from the room with powder falling out of her red hair.

“Bridget,” Alec says. “You come with me.”