‘No, no!’ I cry weakly.
Oh yes! Your queen has deemed it so, says a godlike voice in my head. But as I fade into rose-scented oblivion, I know my prayers haven’t been answered and the voice I’m hearing most certainly doesn’t belong to God.
Chapter 12
Hester | London, 1560
Tsk, tsk, you took your time. Your species is a wondrous thing, holding on to its humanity even when all is lost. I shall get you cleaned up and bring you something to eat.
I awaken to hear the demon speaking, but his face wavers, and his lips aren’t moving. I don’t understand what is happening, and a pitiful whimper escapes my lips. He lets go of my head, which is still thankfully attached to my neck, and it drops forward. I say a quiet prayer, thanking God that he decided not to kill me. I cannot think what changed his mind, though. Some moment of compassion? Weakly, I lift my head and take more stock. I seem to be still shackled to the wall as I can’t move my arms much. But apart from a pain in my neck, I seem to be ...
My eyes widen, noticing my bodice has been ripped open to midwaist, my breasts visible and marred with scratches, my nipples an angry red, like the demon has been pawing and suckling at them. But I am alive. I must be grateful forthat.
The demon is back. He grasps my jaw, jerks it up, and stares into my eyes. What he sees there makes him chuckle. ‘Pretty!’
But I do not feel pretty. I feel dirty and sore. He drops to his knees, and there’s the sound of splashing as a cloth is wrung out and passed under my skirt. His head disappears up there as well. I start in horror, not wanting this invasion of privacy, but settle as soon as a cloth roughly wipes my thighs—he is only cleaning as he said. But then a cold tongue swipes between my legs. I let out a squawk, but there is no pain, only pleasure. The demon’s tongue laps rhythmically at a certain spot; and it causes me to sag against the wall, spread my legs wide, and moan. The demon’s lips suction there, the tip of his tongue flicking, and a feeling akin to euphoria washes over me. My hips jut of their own accord, rubbing frantically against his tongue. There is a roaring in my ears, and my gums ache unbearably, but I cannot stop. Reaching the pinnacle, I howl as he sucks at me over and over.Oh, what bliss. I am soaring ...
The demon appears from beneath my skirts, licking his lips and grinning. He dunks the cloth into the bucket.
‘Would that all ablutions were as pleasing,’ he says.
The place between my legs throbs, and I know it is sinfuland wrong, but I cannot deny that I would very much like him to do that again. I feel a bit more alive now.
Standing, the demon faces me, and I am shocked anew—his appearance is so changed that ‘demon’ does not seem to be the right word to describe him. His cheeks are rounded, his lips fuller. Gone is the withered body beneath his cloak. Now he has thicker arms, a finely muscled torso and a long plump manhood. He seems unconcerned about me observing him, even puffs his chest out and struts a little.
‘What has happened to you?’ I exclaim.
He leans closer and licks at one of my nipples. I gasp but do not want him to stop. The arousal is back again, and I have strange urges ... things I want to do to him ...
‘Blood. It is an elixir. The queen has kept me near starved, and since I was bound by our contract, I could not feed freely. But I trusted that after I delivered the information she required, I would be rewarded. And I have been—with you.’
His words do not make much sense to me. The queen has kept him here? Starved him? But he has drunk of my blood and now looks like a completely different man.
Dimitri smiles and chucks my chin. ‘Supper is on its way to give you nourishment. The queen is most anxious for you to return so you can begin your nightly duties for her.’
Oh yes, I am to be the queen’s twin. I remember himtalking about that. But it seems like a long time ago that we had that discussion.
‘I would let you feed on me, pretty one,’ Dimitri continues. ‘But I am reluctant to part with even a drop after such a long hiatus. However, I have made other arrangements, and we shall feast well tonight.’
There’s the sound of a key unlocking the door, and Darius strides into the room. He smells good enough to eat. I tug at my shackles, sniffing the air; and Darius takes a step back, eyeing me warily. Dimitri chuckles. ‘Would thathewas our supper, but no. He has brought us an alternative.’
Darius tugs at the rope he’s holding, and the plaintive bleat of a goat rends the air. It trots in and stands there, looking at us expectantly. It bleats again, and I can hear the thump of its heart, the whoosh of its succulent blood.
My shackles are released one by one, and Dimitri’s voice whispers in my mind:Yes, pretty one, drink your fill, and I will join you.
***
I am kept in the dungeon with Dimitri until he deems me ‘fit to return to society’. He kisses my hand and tells me we will meet again, that we share a special bond, and I will always know when he is near. Then I am given a new dress andescorted upstairs by Darius. My leave-taking from Dimitri is devoid of emotion—strange for what has transpired between us. But I am more than eager to return to court and escape the confines of the dungeon.
I expect to be taken to the queen. But Darius says she is no longer at Windsor, and I am to join her in Greenwich Palace, her most favoured residence. My belongings are collected. I am bundled into a waiting carriage, and with Darius as my escort, we begin our two-day journey.
How much time has elapsed since I was taken from my room, I do not know. It could be mere days, but it feels more like weeks. The things I have done in the dungeon at Dimitri’s urging and some at my own urging, I do not wish to dwell on, even though the darker part of my soul enjoyed it all. So I simply choose not to remember, telling myself it was necessary for survival.
Now it is time to act the lady again. Yet despite having had a bath, my hair washed and pinned, and being dressed in fine clothes, Darius will not ride in the carriage with me. He sits up top with the driver, as if I am a pariah. When we halt to change horses at a staging post, I alight and stalk off in search of him. He is not hard to sniff out; and I find him crouching in a barn, sucking on the neck of a defenceless rat, which he throws at me as I approach.
‘How rude,’ I say, batting it away with myhand, though the blood oozing from its neck holes makes me look at it twice.
‘Do not come any closer!’ Darius scrambles atop a hay bale and crouches there.
