Squeezing my eyes shut, the memory of that night assaults me again. I’d been sound asleep. It was bitter cold in the one-room place we shared, but my father and I always kept a small fire burning in an iron stove nearby. I was jerked away by the sound of glass shattering, followed by father’s hoarse cry. When I sat up, what I saw made my entire body freeze. My father was being pressed against the wall, his feet hovering inches from the boarded floors, gasping for breath as a stranger held him firm. Panicked, his fingers scratched at the hand around the neck, and a trail of ruby traveled from his temple. There was alreadyso much blood. It stained his nightshirt and was smeared across his face. Even though I couldn’t see the intruder’s face then, I could hear him growling threats at my father. Threats about me.
As much as I wanted to scream, I couldn’t. But I must’ve made some kind of sound because my father’s wide, frantic eyes found me standing there motionless. His lips moved but I couldn’t hear his words, only these terrible, choking gasps as the intruder’s hand squeezed tighter on his throat.
That’s when the person’s head turned and I saw him for the first time. Henri.
I didn’t know it then, but that face would haunt me every time I closed my eyes. He would be my living nightmare.
Even though I didn’t know about the true monster he is back then, I remember being stunned by the black polished suit and white gloves he wore. For a mere second, I even thought him handsome, but that thought was quickly diminished when he gave me a predatory smile and greeted me with a bow of his head. He kept himself poised; there were no signs of fangs or the demon-like black eyes, but there was something otherworldly about him. Hypnotizing almost.
He was the devil in disguise.
His voice was silken when he gave me the choice to either come with him without a fight, or he’d rip out my father’s throat. He’d take me either way—I didn’t have a choice in that—but whether or not my father would live past that very moment was up to me.
Of course I obeyed, not knowing fully what I’d agreedto, but even from that moment, I had every intention of finding my freedom another way. Hopefully one that wouldn’t damn us both.
I blink away the memory just as Emma pours more water over my shoulders. Kneeling beside the tub, she takes a small towel, dips it into the bath, and runs it over my back. My muscles ache, but in a sweet kind of way as the hot water does its magic on me. Emma continues down my spine. To prevent my mind from wandering to that dark place again, I fight to find words to say aloud and keep me focused.
“I went to see my father again tonight,” I begin, glancing up at Emma’s sweet face. “After what happened with Henri…”
Emma keeps washing me, ignoring the words I’ve said so many times to her in the past.
“I didn’t get very far, though. Avrum caught me before I even met the property’s gates.” My voice cracks at the mention of Avrum’s name, but I swallow to regain my composure. “He told me that Henri has appointed Keagan as my caretaker, and that I mustn’t try to see my father again.”
Emma dips the towel again and works on washing my legs in the soapy water.
“He also says that as long as my blood is coursing through Henri’s veins, he’s connected to me somehow. And will be able to track me that way.” Just the thought of it makes me sick to my stomach again. “Running away is pointless now.”
The rag pauses over my skin. “Have you given up then?” she asks.
I shake my head. “Avrum said he would help me. I think if he does, I can find a way around Henri and out of here for good. And safely.” Pausing, I lower my voice even more and glance at the closed door to my bedroom. “I know you don’t like it when I talk this way, but I may have a real chance now. If Avrum and I come up with a plan to escape from here, would—”
“I want to go with you,” she blurts out.
I can’t believe what I’m hearing. “What?”
Her shoulders fall, defeated. “I want to go with you. I want to leave this place.”
I agree with her, but what has changed her mind?
Remembering her and Henri’s last encounter with the broken glass, I think I know the answer to that question after all.
“You were right, miss. I don’t belong here… We don’t belong here. I want to leave.”
“Are you sure?” I press again, wanting to know for certain that this is what she wants. “I would never force you to join me, but if you do decide to, hesitation will only cause more danger. You will have to be sure.”
She gives me a stiff nod. “Yes, I am sure.”
I know it’s a terrible situation we’re both in—dangerous and risky—but I’m glad I don’t have to leave her behind. I’m not sure my conscience would ever let it go.
“Since Henri will always know where I am until my blood dies away in him, we will have to wait a few days and hope he does not feed from me in the meantime.”
“Miss, do you think that Henri won’t—”
I let out a bitter laugh. “Do I think he will go dayswithout laying a hand on me or drinking from me? No, not at all.”
Emma’s face falls. “W-What will we do?”
Resting the side of my face on my knees, I hug them tighter against my chest. The more I try and think it through, the more impossible it seems. Especially with his possessiveness over me. But there has to be some way for us to get out of here. I just have to find a sure way.
