SARAH
I've been dancing at Madame Violette's blood club for three years. Long enough to stop seeing the horror. Long enough to normalize vampires drinking from willing humans. Long enough to forget I used to be different.
But tonight something changes.
I'm preparing for the evening show. Costume on, makeup perfect, preparing to dance while vampires feed in the shadows. Normal Tuesday.
Then I see the cells.
I'm not supposed to go to sublevel one. Performers stay on the main floor. But I dropped an earring backstage and followed it down the stairs.
The cells are new. Madame Violette must have had them built recently. Three of them, silver-lined, reinforced doors.
Two are empty.
The third holds a dhampir woman. I recognize her from wanted posters Mordaunt circulated. Valentina Corvino
