I chew my lip. “I haven’t had the best track record when it comes to men.”
She sighs. “I have three rules. One: never promise anything you don’t plan to deliver. You absolutely cannot change your mind with a vampire. Two: make everything about them. Don’t say, ‘If you don’t stop, I’ll die.’ Say, ‘If you kill me, you won’t be able to feed from me again.’ And three: if it gets too bad and you have to fight back, play dead first. If you struggle, it turns them on. But if you go limp, they loosen up. Makes kneeing them in the balls far more effective.”
A wave of anxiety causes my stomach to clench. Great. I survived Tony to put myself in a position where every client I serve is a potential Tony. “Thanks. I appreciate the tips.”
“Us girls need to stick together,” she says. “Oh, one more thing.” Her face turns grave. “I wish someone would have told me when I was new that it’s the female vampires you should fear. The males are not unlike human men. They can be reasoned with or manipulated, but the females… They’ll rip your heart out of your chest just to watch you bleed. Good news is that they don’t use blood brothels often. Tend to get it for free topside. But if one does come to see you, mind yourself.”
In the corner, I see Phantom lift their head and meet my eyes. My plan is to face off against the strongest, most vicious female vampire in this hive. Not for the first time, I wonder how I’ll survive.
Hours later, we reach the capital and are the last to disembark. Marabella leads us through a vibrant marketplace where the scent of spiced meats combines with the aggressive solicitation of vendors selling everything from silks to furniture. At first I’m confused why a vampire hive would need food vendors, but when we reach Marabella’s, I get it. The house is enormous. It’s simple really. Vampires feed on humans and all those humans need to be fed. Unlike Lamia coven, I don’t see a single blood bag among them.
“We have thirty rooms,” Marabella says as we approach a mansion worthy of an emperor. “You’ll notice everything is in the Japanese style with sliding doors and tatami mats. That’s by design. The original owner was a geisha who was brought here from Japan by a soldier turned vampire in 1944.”
“Is that a cherry tree?” I murmur as I follow her through the two-story foyer, past the front desk, and into the house proper. Two enormous, heavily muscled vampires guard the juncture between the waiting room and what I presume are the bedrooms. The tree takes up an entire corner, decorated with an explosion of fragrant pink blossoms. Behind it, a waterfall flows down a stone wall, giving the room the feeling of a high-end spa. A vampire waiting on one of the black leather sofas eyes us both as we pass, his eyebrow peaking when he sees Olivia. I try not to make eye contact.
“It is,” Marabella answers. “Charmed to be forever in bloom. A gift from a friend topside.”
“Marabella has friends in magical places,” Olivia adds.
“I thought witches were forbidden in Night Haven.” I instantly regret mentioning magic. Nothing good can come from me talking about it here. But Marabella only smiles and says, “Witches aren’t welcome, but no one’s ever complained about the charm. I think the vampires enjoy it.” She stops at a door with a brass plaque that reads Room 101. “Eloise, you’ll be here.”
It’s the closest room to the front desk, but I don’t have time to think too hard about why that might be. She opens the door and leads me inside. The nondescript space might be any hotel room in America, but my eye falls on the bed. A black silk kimono lies on the spread, a cherry tree airbrushed on the back.
“When you’re working, you wear the robe,” Marabella says. She tips her head as she takes in my outfit. “Only the robe. You’ll donate every third day unless there are complications.”
“Complications?”
“If one of ’em takes too much and the doctor says your blood count’s too low.” Marabella frowns. “Our clientele is asked to show restraint or we charge extra. Most girls can eventually donate to more than one vampire a day. However…” She lifts her chin and stares down her nose at me. “After Perceval’s reaction, we’ll start you off with one. If you have any trouble, you pull that cord.” She points to a red tasseled rope hanging from the wall next to the bed.
I look again at the robe, and my pulse pounds. I’ll be practically naked when they feed from me. I close my eyes for a beat and remind myself of my purpose. I can do this. I walk deeper into the room and park my bag.
Marabella nods. “Dinner will be delivered at six, and you’ll take your first client tomorrow.” She moves to close the door, and I notice the lock. It’s the type that takes a key to open from both sides.
“Excuse me.” I catch the edge of the door before she can close it. “Can I have the key?”
Marabella smiles, and this time it holds an edge. “Eventually. Don’t worry, we’ll bring you everything you need.”
“What? Are you saying I’m not allowed to leave? Ever?” I pull harder on the door, but she pushes my hand aside.
“You’ll be able to leave the moment you pay your fees.”
I claw at the door again, and she shoves me harder into the room. “What fees?”
“It costs money to bring you here. To feed you and house you. Until your expenses are paid, you’ll stay here. You’ll find all the details of your contract on the desk.” She gestures toward a manila folder. “This was the deal you made, Eloise, when you stepped through the red door. Welcome to Marabella’s.”
I’m trembling now, realizing the madam blocking my door isn’t a friend. Neither is the woman behind her. Olivia smiles a crazy, Harley Quinn smile at me, her hands clasped on the handle of her bag. She gives a beauty queen wave as the door closes between us and the lock grinds into place.
25
My Debt
ELOISE
I lower myself onto the desk chair and look down at the paper inside the folder. “New donors are subject to the following fee schedule. Finder’s fee: $1,000. Food: $150 per day. Lodging: $200 per day. Clothing, incidentals, and healthcare costs as incurred.” I turn the page over. “Donor portion of service fees. The following amounts will be credited against the donor’s debt as follows. Blood donation: $100–$300, blood donation with full body massage: $200–$500, blood donation with oral sex?—”
I slam the paper down on the desk, nauseated at the tabulation of sexual acts and their fees. It doesn’t take an accountant to figure out the system is rigged against me. Without performing sexual acts, I’ll never pay off my debt. I lean my elbows on my knees and bury my face in my hands.
“You know, we could unlock the door with a little magic,” Phantom says.
