Of Blood and Desire

Chapter Two

We moved fast through the castle, and the aftermath of the vampire's rage was revealed. Cowering maids huddled in corners, swollen eyes filled with confusion and terror as we passed. They witnessed firsthand the c*****e this creature could so easily bring, and his face was forever burned into their minds. Their horrified faces would be burned in mine just the same. Fourth in line or not, they were my people, and I hadn’t been able to help them.

Blood was fresh on the walls, corpses littering the ground. Those who had gotten in his way. I quickly tore my gaze from the c*****e and focused only on moving forward. My lips trembled as I stared at his broad back, lowering my eyes to the hand he kept wrapped firmly around my wrist.

His grip was not painful, but I still feared that he might accidentally crush my bones if I moved the wrong way. It would be an easy matter for him. Far too easy. I knew that well, as I thought of how his hand thrust into the guard’s chest, pulling out a still-beating heart. The hand that had done such a horrible deed was now wrapped around my own.

I wanted to pull out of his grasp, run back to my family and hug them all--never leave their side again. I wanted to hear Geneiveve talk about paint and listen to Frederick mumble about foreign affairs and even watch Lucy keep her lips tight with secrets. But I couldn’t go back. I knew, deep down, that I’d never see them again.

Wherever he took me, whatever hole or dungeon he trapped me in, I would be there alone. I imagined myself in a cellar with chains on my feet, never to feel the kiss of the sun on my skin, growling old, withering and dying in the dark. No way to escape, no way to be free.

This, I thought, feeling his strong, possessive hand on me, was nothing short of a nightmare. Nothing short of a dream I couldn’t wake up from.

Come with me now, Clara.

As if I’d had a choice.

When we reached the castle courtyard, there was a black and elegant carriage waiting there. The horses tied to it were large, intimidating, and just as dark as the carriage they were attached to. They looked as if they could charge through a battlefield and come out unscathed. I’d been riding horses my entire life, but the sight of these made me want to empty out whatever bit of dinner I’d managed.

The coachman hopped down, unphased by the bloody state of the area. He was awfully tall and thin with the brim of his top hat pulled low over his face. I tried to catch his eye for sympathy, for help, but he didn’t look at me. He didn’t utter a word as he opened the doors to the carriage, revealing the rich and dark red interior.

I froze as I stared at it. It was beautiful, made of fine carpentry and cloth, entirely welcoming, but it was an invite that I knew would lead to my ruin. Reality set in at that moment: Once I got in that carriage, I would be gone forever. I thought again of that dark, cold cellar that I would certainly be tossed into. Given food so my blood could replenish, offered conversation when bitten into. My body shuddered at the thought, and I nearly fell back onto the ground.

No, I didn’t want to go. I wanted to run to my sisters as I had when I was a child and cry. Just cry a river, cry a lake.

The presence of the vampire felt more smoldering suddenly as he stared at me with a vaguely curious light in his eyes, lips tilted upwards. He’d noticed my hesitation but wasn’t saying anything. He didn’t tug on my arm to urge me to get into the carriage.

I briefly and quickly thought through anything to get me out of this. Could I run? Would he chase me? He looked so at-ease right now, as though I could catch him entirely off-guard, but I recalled the speed he showed earlier. He’d caught an arrow in the air, even while distracted. If I ran, he wouldn’t have to try to catch me. I was that easy of a prey.

Knowing I was trapped and had no choice but to go with him was so frustrating that it made me want to scream. As a princess, I’d been sheltered, given any and everything. Adored by my people. The worst I’d ever experienced was being served a dinner that I didn’t particularly like, seated next to my mouthy sister. Tears burned in my eyes. I refused to let them fall, to let him know the power he held, to let him know I was absolutely powerless.

Though we both already knew.

A curse bubbled up in my throat but didn’t pass through my lips, wicked thoughts crossing my mind instead. I hated him. He was a miserable creature. A monster. And he'd won. He had beaten me. I’d lost everything in moments, and here I was, completely at his mercy. I might as well lose with dignity.

I straightened my back, pressing my lips into a flat line, and brushed past him.

Inside, I didn’t spare him a side glance as he climbed aboard. I looked outside instead, pushing aside the velvet curtain to look out. The moon hung high in the sky and cast enough light for me to see the shapes of my surroundings.

A gut-wrenching thought struck me. Would this be the last time that I saw my kingdom?

"Move,” the vampire spoke.

At his words, the carriage began to roll forward. My eyes widened as I watched our surroundings move by quickly, despite the wagon itself hardly shaking. For all the times I’d been inside a carriage, I’d never had this happen.

He must have seen the mystification on my face because he explained, “The carriage has been made by the best of craftspeople.” Perhaps, to others, this would be a boast, but he said it as fact, tone distant, as if reading off a text.

I didn’t respond, but I looked at him finally, again taking him in, in all of his undead glory. He looked relaxed, not at all off-put by the blood still drying on him.

“Are you going to hurt me?” I asked before I knew what I was doing.

The vampire seemed greatly amused by my inquiry. “Why would I?” he asked.

Was that even a question? Did he not recall the state we’d left the castle in? “All those other people… you killed them,” I said.

“They tried to do the same to me,” he said. He smiled then. “No, I will not harm you. You are special to me.”

I stared at him. He meant that my blood was special.

Upset once again, I turned to look to the window.

“Clara,” he called, my name surprisingly soft on his lips. I turned slightly. “Do you know my name?”

His name? My brows pushed together in confusion and my eyes landed on him. He stared expectantly. “What? No.”

As far as I could tell, nobody knew his name. Not even my father, even the neighboring kingdoms. They only referred to him as “the vampire,” then, from my father, “My Lord.” I’d heard, also, less frequently and in more dramatic tellings, “Dark One.”

“My name is Nikolas,” he said.

It was weird hearing his name, a sensation almost like relief flooding through me. All this time, he’d been a nameless beast terrorizing us. Knowing his name made him less… fantastical. Illusive. A name made him earthly like the rest of us, and I didn’t know what to do with that.

Nikolas wore a half-smile as he watched me process. His eyes were lidded as he sat back. I stared, getting a little angry. How was he so at ease? Did he think we were friends? It was hard, given how incredibly handsome he was, but I worked myself to feel a good amount of disgust.

“Well, Nikolas,” I said, “the others in that castle may have meant you harm, but you gave them no dignity in death.”

“Whatever do you mean, sweet Clara?”

“Don’t call me that!” I snapped. I paused, then, expecting either a verbal or physical reprimand, but neither came.

He simply stared on. “What am I meant to call you, then?”

“If you must talk to me at all, then Clara is fine. Clara only.”

“Of course,” Nikolas said, nodding slightly, smiling demurely, arrogantly. “As you wish, Clara.”

I huffed. The words were polite, but he said them pompously, as though he had a private joke with himself, and I was the butt of it. I took a moment to calm myself before saying, “You tore those men apart. It was violent, terrible. You didn’t have to do that.”

Nikolas considered my words for a second before leaning forward, tilting his head to the side thoughtfully. “Didn’t I?” he said.

I was taken aback. Did he really not understand how wrong his actions were? “No,” I said. “You didn’t. What you did was monstrous and cruel.”

“You have a sharp tongue,” he remarked.

“Your teeth are sharper, I imagine,” I said.

A new and unexpected smile crossed his face, one that seemed surprisingly genuine. Nikolas let out a short laugh and leaned back. “I like that,” he announced.

Frustration soared through me, and I let it. Anger, bitterness, that was easy. Better than the aching sadness I felt in my bones. I was annoyed by him, and not just because he’d terrorized my kingdom for years, insulted the Crown, and kidn*pped me. I just hated how unbothered he was. Nothing seemed to phase him, but something had to. If I couldn’t fight him, if I couldn’t run away, then my words had to have enough of a barb to pierce his diamond skin. They had to be, or else I had nothing at all.

I bit back harsh words, curses. Maybe it would only amuse him to see me upset, and I didn’t want to give him anything. “I don’t have any clothes,” I said primly.

He raised a brow, not exactly surprised, but I could tell that he hadn’t expected me to say that. “Yes…?” he said.

“You didn’t allow me to pack,” I added and threw in a short glare. I’d quickly learned that I couldn’t stare right at his eyes for too long, else I’d be entranced.

“I didn’t,” Nikolas confirmed, “but if I’d allowed you to stay for any longer, don’t you think that one of your loyal guards would have tried to kill me, and then, upon their failure, I, them?”

I stared out the window, trying to make sense of the sentence. “You’re saying that I should see you as considerate because you didn’t allow me to bring anything with me?”

“Realistically, what items would you even have brought with genuine value?” he said. “Your special emerald dress, a hairpin? Those are just things, Clara, and they mean little.”

My face turned hot. Did he really think I was so materialistic? And… wasn’t I? After all, for the entirety of the ride, I’d been quietly mourning the sapphire earrings and ruby rings I’d left behind. There wasn’t anything sentimental to them, but I’d just thought they were pretty.

“Those things would remind me of home,” I said, turning to him and expecting to see that annoying smug grin on his face, only to find his head c****d to the side, eyes completely black.

“The blood, it rushed to your face,” he said, voice growing deeper. A second later, he’d crossed the carriage, face only an inch from my own.

I stilled as Nikolas shut his eyes, leaning forward and inhaling my scent. He let out a light, shuddering breath that smelled entirely welcoming. It was twenty scents at once--chocolate, sea air, fresh scones, vanilla. All I wanted was to breathe more and more of it, forever, until I couldn’t smell any longer. I went to move closer but stopped myself at the last moment, realizing that, if I went any further, our lips would likely connect.

“Incredible,” he whispered, breath falling on my face.

Incredible, I thought as the smell rushed over me. For a moment, everything was forgotten: the circumstances, the violence, the terror, the blood.

It was just the two of us. So close to one another.

I wasn’t sure why I was thinking such things with his eyes closed. Wasn’t that how he dazzled me and my sisters before? Or was it just… him?

It didn’t matter. None of it did. I just wanted to stay here.

Nikolas slowly peeled his eyes open. They weren’t black any longer but red, and wonder shone in them as he gazed at me. No one had looked at me like that before. “I have been waiting for you for so long,” he murmured, voice catching with near palpable pain. Ancient and all-consuming. It hurt my heart to hear.

“How long?” I heard myself whisper.

His eyes shut at my voice, a small, peaceful smile crossing his face before he reopened them. “A very long time,” he said, just as quietly.

My gaze focused on his beautiful irises. They were like crimson jewels, unblemished and dazzling. His pupils held mine, and I was unable to tear myself away from them. Perfection, I thought, described him well.

“It’s rude to keep someone waiting,” I said, almost breathless.

That genuine smile crossed his face again, the one that I could tell from the pit of my stomach was rarer than saffron. “It is,” he murmured, his head tilting to the side. He leaned in, leaned closer…

I was about to shut my eyes and meet him when something on the crook of his neck caught my attention. I hadn’t been able to see it before, but now I could. Blood.

The gasp that slipped out of my lips was one of horror, a gasp that shot Nikolas’ eyes open in alarm. I ignored him entirely. The blame was on me. How could I have forgotten, even for a second? What was wrong with me?

“Clara?” he said quietly. I could still smell his breath… vanilla, fresh…

“Get away from me,” I muttered, turning away from him. I bunched myself against the carriage wall, willing my body to shrink and contort. Anything to get away from him.

He moved back to his seat soundlessly, and, when I glanced his way again, he wouldn’t meet my eyes. I wasn’t sure if I should count that as a victory. I tried to convince myself for a moment that I’d only been playing into his desire to hurt him, but I knew that wasn’t true. No victory here. We'd both lost.

The rest of the ride was silent. The only time Nikolas moved was when I shuddered from the winter air. He immediately shedded his heavy coat, one he didn’t even need, as vampires couldn’t feel the cold, but I refused it, instead glaring out the window as my teeth chattered. If Frederick were here, he'd call me a child. I could hear his voice: “Petulant as always, Clara. Just take the coat, Clara.”

I scowled at the thought. Maybe I wouldn’t miss him as much as I thought I would.

It was the coachman, actually, who broke the unnerving silence. “We have arrived, master,” he said, voice dry and scratchy.

My blood turned to ice at the words. Here, at my prison.

The surprise shouldn’t have been so thick. The carriage had slowed considerably in the past thirty minutes, and we had to reach the dungeon eventually, didn’t we? Still, a pang shot through me, similar to the feeling I’d gotten looking at the interior of the carriage. It was just another reminder of the permanence of all of this.

No, maybe it wasn’t permanent. I was a princess; I was important. My father could send his army… but would he risk failure? And how many innocents would Nikolas take, men acting out of pride for their country and a desperation to stop this menace? What if all of the human kingdoms worked together, stockpiled all of their resources and came at this vile creature, determined to take him out? Would that be enough?

Would it end him?

It was a nice thought, but, if it was really possible, why hadn’t the kingdoms done it before now? We’d been participating in the Collection for over seven years, and Nikolas had terrorized us with murders and mayhem for ten years before that. I couldn’t remember a time in my life when I wasn’t hearing about the glutton vampire set on destroying us all for blood. Nikolas wasn’t just a pest to these kingdoms but an aggrieved terror, an enemy of the nations. They would have wanted to take him out.

Why hadn’t they?

As the carriage came to a complete stop, I glanced at Nikolas out of the corner of my eyes. I'dd heard of vampires dying before. Blood oak to the heart. Blood deprivation. I had seen it before, too, in public executions. They were stronger than us but, still, fallible. Why wasn’t Nikolas?

He turned suddenly, catching my eye. I was startled but didn’t, or maybe couldn’t, look away. He stared on for a few, pain-staking seconds that felt like minutes before turning away, a small smirk on his face. The carriage door opened, and Nikolas climbed out.

The back of my neck felt hot. I furiously worked to shove away the embarrassment--why did it seem that he was always winning, that he was always catching me off guard?--and climbed out of the carriage. Immediately, I was taken aback by the sight in front of me.

No dungeon. Nothing dark or horrible or scary. Instead, in front of us, protected by a thick iron fence, stood a castle so massive that it echoed the one I was raised in. It was made completely of dark stone, but it wasn’t terrifying; the architecture was incredible with winding towers and gargoyles so delicately carved. In front, was a beautiful hedge garden coated in frost.

My new home.