The two talked until the chicken was gone, and then Emmy went to her room, stripped to nothing, showered, and crashed.
If Zander had a problem, she’d let it be his problem. He’d avoided her every chance he could since she’d arrived.
And yes, it hurt her feelings, but whatever. She’d fuck who and what she wanted. She could do that all she wanted as long as she fed the vampires on schedule, kept her grades up, and didn’t get kicked out of yet another college.
Chapter 18
The final weeks before leaving for Mordnik were hectic, and Emmy’s brain felt like it might explode from information overload.
Feeding frenzies every night — fourteen different theatrical productions on rotation. She’d be the star in nearly half of them, which meant vampires would bid at weekly auctions for the privilege of being on stage with her.
The privilege of fucking her while an audience watched. For an unrepentant, avowed exhibitionist, it doesn’t get much better than that.
She’d dodged a bullet with Titus Andronicus, where the starring role went to one of the serious masochists, thank fuck. The script called for cutting out Lavinia’s tongue, slicing off her hands, then raping her in the ‘woods.’ Emmy would be on the floor that night in a matching torn whitegown, getting ‘raped’ and fed from, but her tongue and hands would stay where they belonged.
But she’d be on stage for the Lady Macbeth production — blood-spattered and scrubbing at her hands while vampires circled and drank, her screams about damned spots echoing through the theater. The dress rehearsal had been intense — the line between performance and reality blurring, and she’d needed a few minutes before walking, after, so no one would see her legs shaking a little.
She was looking forward to doing it for real.
There were others — a Roman orgy where she’d wear a shorter teen toga, and the graphic woodland rape from Il Trovatore, complete with soundtrack, which made it truly depraved and creepy. She enjoyed being the victim in that rape, actually — and yes, they’d had a full dress rehearsal, with coterie vampires.
Rhea would be Snow White because she looked the part and didn’t have to act. Lana had the lead in the Moulin Rouge can-can, with Emmy in the first row behind her, mostly naked and kicking, since the colorful ‘skirts’ were a short, gauzy joke.
Thankfully, she wouldn’t be on stage for the Inquisition scene, where humans were beaten, teeth were pulled, and a few other atrocities.
They’d all been tested on the rules and protocols — actual written exams. The spiral staircase alone had a full page of instructions: two wide going up, single file coming down, timing protocols for the fireman’s pole in the center.
Crazy that a missile silo needed traffic laws, but apparently feeding nearly fifty vampires required military-level logistics.
Between learning choreography and lines, memorizing protocols, and keeping up with her master’s coursework, Emmy only managed one evening with Jed and Zane before they left.
She had lunch with one or both several times a week, though, and fully enjoyed their company.
The convoy of SUVs and one small bus left the house at 10:15 sharp. A twenty-yard walk from vehicle to Zander’s plane, suitcase left at the base of the stairs for the crew to load, and the pilot took off shortly after the last person boarded.
They’d all sent two suitcases earlier in the week, and were allowed one suitcase and a carry-on today.
Emmy sat beside a window, and Rhea stood to go talk to someone once the seatbelt sign turned off, but Emmylovedflying and wanted to see Alaska from the air.
The ultra-luxurious private jet leveled out over a mountain range, and Emmy watched the jagged peaks slide past below, their snow-covered faces catching the late-afternoon sun. She’d grown up with money, flown private more times than she could count, but this felt different. Less like a vacation, more like walking into something she couldn’t entirely predict.
Spence settled into the seat across from her with two mugs of hot chocolate. Ofcoursehe’d brought hot chocolate.She accepted hers with a smile and wrapped both hands around the warmth.
“You know,” he said after a few sips, voice easy but thoughtful, “I remember when you were four, and you told me very seriously that dragons love hot chocolate, but it’s bad tochangeto dragon to try to make it hot again after it’s cold.”
Fuck, she’d nearly burned the house down trying to reheat her hot chocolate that’d gone cold while she drew and colored. Her mother had no idea her oldest triplet had figured out how tochangeon her own without parental help.
Emmy groaned. “Oh, my God, I donotneed childhood stories right now.”
“You were adorable,” he continued, grinning. “You had this little purple dress with a dragon embroidered on it, and matching purple things for your ponytails. Matching shoes. I can still see you bouncing around the backyard in it.”
“Spence.” Her voice came out flat, but he just smiled at her over the rim of his mug.
“What? It’s a good memory.”
“I need everyone to stop seeing me as that little girl.” She set her mug down carefully, met his gaze. “I’m not four anymore. I’m not twelve. I’m a woman, and I need everyone who knew me back then to see who I amnow.”
His expression softened but didn’t lose the warmth. “Emmy, I can see you as both. The little girl who charmed everyone on Lookout Mountain, and the woman sitting across from me who’s brilliant, strong, and finding her way.”He gave her a soft smile. “It doesn’t have to be one or the other.”
