The vampire serventy

The vampire servant part 2

The air in the East Wing turned ice cold.

Three vampires.

Three sets of glowing red eyes.

And one terrified girl behind Arman.

"Step aside, Blackwood," the leader snarled. He was tall with silver hair and scars running down his face. "That girl is not yours. The contract belongs to the Council."

Arman didn't move. His body was a shield in front of Eina.

"She signed with me," he growled. "Not with you, Damian. Get out of my house."

Damian laughed. "House? This is the King's property. And you broke the oldest law. You fed from a human without permission."

Eina's heart pounded. She pressed herself against the cold wall.

`What is he talking about? King's property?`

"She's not just a human," Arman said quietly. So quietly that only Eina could hear.

Then louder: "Leave. Now."

The second vampire stepped forward. A woman with black lips.

"Or what? You'll kill us? You're weak, Arman. 300 years and you still refuse to drink properly. Look at you."

And that's when it happened.

Arman's shirt tore slightly at the collar as he moved.

And Eina saw them.

*30 stars.*

Glowing faint gold. Scattered across his chest and collarbone. Like a constellation.

Her breath caught.

`I know these stars.`

The same 30 stars had been in her dreams every night since she was 8 years old.

In her dream, a voice would whisper: _"Find the man with 30 stars. He is your fate. And your doom."_

Eina took a shaky step forward without thinking. "Arman... your chest..."

All three enemy vampires froze.

Damian's eyes went wide. "No. It can't be. The Prophecy Marks?"

Arman immediately pulled his shirt closed. But it was too late.

"The girl can see them," the woman whispered. "Which means... she's the one."

"What one?" Eina asked, her voice trembling.

Arman turned to her. His red eyes were no longer angry. They were sad.

"Eina, run," he whispered. "Out the back door. Don't look back."

"I'm not leaving you!" she said.

"You don't understand," he said. "If they take you, they'll kill you to get to me."

Damian snapped his fingers. "Enough talk. Take her."

The two other vampires lunged.

But Arman was faster.

He moved like a blur. One punch sent the woman flying into the wall. The second vampire barely dodged Arman's clawed hand.

"Eina, NOW!" Arman roared.

Eina ran. She didn't know where. Just away. Down the dark hallways, past the candlelight, her bare feet slipping on the marble floor.

Behind her she could hear fighting. Glass breaking. A roar that didn't sound human.

She reached the kitchen and found a back door. She pushed it open into the rain.

And stopped.

Because standing in the rain, waiting for her, was a fourth vampire.

He was older. Much older. His hair was white, his suit was from another century, and his eyes were not red.

They were gold.

"Hello, Eina," he said with a sad smile. "I've been waiting 300 years for you."

---

Back inside, Arman was losing.

Damian had him pinned against a pillar. Blood dripped from Arman's mouth.

"You should have killed her when you had the chance," Damian hissed. "The Council will never let a human with the Mark live."

Arman coughed blood. "She's not just a human."

He looked up, and for the first time in 300 years, he smiled.

"She's the reason I survived all these years."

Outside, the old vampire in gold eyes extended a pale hand to Eina.

"Come. I can explain everything. About the 30 stars. About Arman. About why you were born."

Eina looked back at the manor. She could hear Arman screaming her name.

Her chest hurt. Not from fear. From something else.

The old vampire said, "If you go back to him, both of you will die. If you come with me, I can save you both. But you have to choose now."

Rain dripped down Eina's face. Her wrist still throbbed from the bite.

And on her own shoulder, hidden under her wet shirt...

A single star began to glow.

Just one.

But it was the same gold as Arman's 30.

Eina looked at the old vampire. Then at the manor.

"I choose him," she whispered.

And she ran back inside.

---

*[TO BE CONTINUED IN PART 3: The Mark of the Chosen One]*