I fight the tears flowing down my cheeks. “I don’t know, but I refuse to let her be discarded like she wasn’t human. Like she meant nothing.”
Harrison is in front of me in the blink of an eye. “Because this is your first official day of being a vampire, I will give you grace.” He steps closer. The top of my head barely comes to his chest. “However, understand this, Violet Du Four. You will not talk to me as if you are my equal.” His eyes turn from emerald-green to red a heartbeat later. “I am Harrison Chamberlin. The strongest vampire in New Orleans. The strongest vampire in the Southern United States. From this moment forward, you are nothing more than a fill-in forher.” He points to a hand-painted portrait hanging above the fireplace.
“I’ll never be her,” I answer.
A palm slaps my cheek, knocking me back a few steps. “I can see you are not going to be easy to train.” He takes Dorothy’s body from me, carelessly throwing her over his shoulder before moving toward the back of the house. “There’s blood on your dress. Change it.” He moves quickly, leaving me alone.
I’m in the room where I woke up a second later. I’m not sure how I got here so quickly, but I don’t care.Locking the door behind me, I collapse onto the bed, allowing the tears to flow. Growing up, I was the strong one. I was the one who made sure everyone else was okay, never allowing anyone to see my weakness, my humanity. Now…now, I’m a monster, according to Harrison, one of the strongest creatures on Earth. The funny part is… I’ve never felt so weak.
The sun has completely set before I dry my tears enough to get off the bed. Staring at my reflection, another myth debunked, I see the small stain that offended Harrison on the bodice of the antiquated dress. I move toward a tall wardrobe sitting opposite the oversized bed. Inside are replicas of the dress I’m wearing in a rainbow of colors. I chose a dark blue version and spend the next hour trying to figure out the layers. How the hell did women wear this insanity? However annoying this is, I’m grateful for the distraction.
A knock on the door pulls me back to reality. My stomach knots instantly, knowing who’s on the other side of the door. “Yes?” I ask, focusing on keeping my voice calm and even.
“We’re leaving in five minutes,” he warns. Footsteps immediately lead away from the door.
Standing in front of the full-length mirror, I straighten the ridiculous dress as best I can. Everything about me looks different. The freckles and small blemishes that have been with me since childhood are gone, replaced by porcelain clear skin. Brown eyes arebrighter, crisper than I remember, and my lips are plump and naturally bright red. Other than the ridiculously dyed red hair, I look like a cleaner, crisper, and older version of Violet Du Four.
I take a deep breath, unsure if breathing is necessary, and move downstairs almost too quickly to stay upright. Harrison is standing in the foyer. He’s wearing a suit that rivals the dress I’m wearing in age and style. “Turn,” he demands. Following orders, I turn, showing him the dress from all angles. “Certainly not perfect, but it will do.” He holds his elbow toward me, reminding me of our walk to the river. Reluctantly, I slide my arm through his, and together, we exit his Garden District home.
My stomach growls the moment we step outside. I smell blood. It’s everywhere. “Violet, you must learn to control yourself,” Harrison warns. “We’re walking around the humans and their life force this evening for you to learn control. You must not give in to temptation. Do you understand?”
“Why are you doing this?” I ask. Like earlier, he slaps me across the cheek. Anger fills every pore on my body. I want nothing more than to kill Harrison Chamberlin.
“Good, girl. I feel your anger through your blood. Use that anger when needed.” He pulls me away from the home to the cobblestone sidewalk. The heeled boots I’m wearing are not a good match for the unevenground. Focusing on walking, I keep my attention on staying balanced.
My stomach growls loud enough, it echoes off a nearby brick wall. “Patience, my dear,” he whispers for my ears only.
Ahead, an older couple is moving in our direction. They’re wearing modern clothing and having a conversation about their grandchildren who are coming for a visit soon. As they get closer, my stomach growls even louder.
“Hello, Mr. Chamberlin,” the woman greets us.
“Good evening, Mrs. Hollingsworth. How are you two this lovely evening?”
“Well. Thank you.” The woman looks at me, no doubt confused about my outfit. “Who is your lovely companion this evening?” she asks.
“Violet Du Four,” Harrison answers. “My niece from Alabama.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Du Four.” The woman steps forward. The smell of her blood is like nothing I’ve experienced before. Like a drug, my body refuses to ignore.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Hollingsworth,” I manage to respond.
“Are you two attending a ball?” her husband asks. “Your clothing is…impressive.”
Harrison laughs. “We are. Violet has never been to a costume party. I thought I would show her what life in New Orleans is truly like.”
The woman claps her hands, sending her smell toward me even more. I try fighting, but it’s not working. My body moves toward her, but I’m being held in position by Harrison’s arm.
“What an amazing idea.” She turns toward her husband. “We should attend something like that. What fun it would be to dress up.”
“I’m afraid we must keep moving,” Harrison says, holding my arm tight inside of his. “It was a pleasure to see you again.”
“Likewise,” Mr. Hollingsworth replies. “Have a good evening.” They continue walking while Harrison pulls me away. The further we move, the less the pull becomes.
“Well done, my dear.”
“Why did she smell so good?” I ask, once we’re out of earshot.
“Certain blood types are more appealing. We’re drawn to some more than others. That’s what drew me to you.”
