Two hours pass, and I can’t find any gates or footholds to climb the steep gray walls. How the hell do these creatures get in and out? No wonder I am allowed to stroll at my leisure, unguarded. There is no way in or out of here!
I sigh in defeat as my limbs start to feel numb from the harshness of the biting air, and head back towards the dark, looming castle. The structure is imposing, all gloomy and menacing, with stony exterior walls made of granite, and sky-high medieval spires that rise above everything else. It remindsme of one of those sleeping dragons—majestic yet deadly—from the fairytales grandma used to read us once a year, on our birthdays. It was the only time she would put us to sleep with a different tune than that stupid prophecy.
As I approach the fountain in the middle of the garden, I notice a figure sprawled on a stone bench on the right side, like a cat luxuriating in a patch of sunlight. It’s that insufferable second-in-command, and I try to change my direction silently, but it’s too late. He lazily opens one eye, and a slow grin forms on his roguish face.
“Ah, the kitty cat has left the warmth of her cozy lair. Trying to find a way out of here? I’ll save you the trouble, pretty princess. There are none!” he laughs with contempt.
“I didn’t know I was to be hauled up in that darn room all day long,” I huff, a slight cloud of steam forming in front of my face. “Just needed to stretch my legs for a bit.”
“Ah, but next time you can seek my company. I would happily oblige in helping you out with stretching those long legs of yours.” His boyish grin grates on my nerves as he stands up and courteously offers me his arm.
I blatantly refuse to take his outstretched arm and continue walking, as he follows me.
“Don’t you have anything better to do, Blaise?” I ask, glancing his way.
“To be denied the pleasure of your scintillating presence? Never!” He gasps in mock humor as he grasps his chest dramatically. What a rake!
I roll my eyes at him.
“Besides,” he says in a fake sweet voice, “I have a few free moments before meeting up with Killian. And I find I enjoy tremendously how my every word annoys you.”
“That makes one of us,” I grumble dejectedly. “Why don’t you go back to working on your tan, huh? You’re a bit pale for anyone’s taste, Blaise.”
His deep laugh takes me by surprise as he gets even closer to me, his shoulder bumping into mine. His eyes sparkle with mischief.
“Oh, kitty cat, I promise you, I am the favorite flavor of plenty.”
“Whatever,” is my only response. He’s trying to rile me up any chance he gets, but I don’t perceive any sense of immediate danger coming from him. That’s rather weird for a vampire, isn’t it?
We reach the heavy metal doors, and he opens them, taking a deep bow and letting me pass through. This male is laying it on thick with me, isn’t he?
“Come, let me offer you a glass of strong liqueur,” he says, pointing down the hall. “All that sun has made me quite thirsty, and you look like you need a little pick-me-up yourself.”
I don’t necessarily want to spend more time with him, but the idea of strong alcohol to warm my bones doesn’t sound half bad. So I oblige and follow him into a small sitting room, all draped in burgundy and golden hues. I take a seat on a sofa near the roaring fire, while he prepares me a glass of whiskey and pours himself a goblet of blood. A fleeting thought occurs to me, and I frown.
“Who did you slaughter to get that blood?” I ask. He cocks an eyebrow at me in confusion, glancing between the goblet and me several times.
“Nobody, obviously,” he says matter-of-factly.
“Obviously,” I snort derisively. “So you just happen to have blood lying around at all times?”
His frown deepens, and his jaw ticks as he’s holding back his answer, before he sighs. “Something like that.”
I wait for a few heartbeats, but when he doesn’t provide any further explanation, I scramble to think about something else to say.
“So what’s with you lying in the wintry sun like that? I thought you creatures despised the sunlight?” I ask to fill the awkward silence while I take small sips of the strong drink. The liquid is smooth on my tongue, gliding down my throat and settling deep in my belly with a fiery heat.
“Ah, you want to know about our weaknesses, pretty princess. Sorry to disappoint, darling, but the sun is just a mere nuisance. It gives us a headache at best, but only in soaring temperatures. We won’t burst into flames anytime soon, if that’s what you were hoping.” He downs his goblet before refilling it with more blood. His mood changes from serious to playful in an instant.
“What other rumors should I dispel for you, hmm?” he asks as he licks his lips salaciously, blatantly sizing me up. Oh, Gods, I’m sensing this guy would thoroughly fuck me, given the chance.
“We have heartbeats, you know?” he says, looking at the flames playing in the fireplace. “Everybody assumes vampires are stone-cold killers with no beating hearts inside their chests. Our core temperature is much lower compared to any other creature, but we still have functioning hearts. They pump blood, they feel, and they break just like anyone else’s.”
“A heartbroken vampire,” I huff in disbelief, “I won’t believe that until I see one.”
“You don’t want to see one, kitty cat. Eternal sorrow is not a pretty sight.”
I make a face, mulling over what he just said. The idea sounds preposterous to me, but I haven’t really spent that much time around vampires to know for sure if he’s feeding me lies or not. I’ve always kept my interactions with these creatures to a bare minimum in Annerough, so all I have to go with is the consensus. Am I biased?
