He stepped away and straightened to his full height. His vivid eyes surveyed the floor and his nose wrinkled in annoyance. I watched in horror at the trail of blood leading from the closed doors. The Lords would have already noticed the effect of my blood by now if they touched it and they could come barging in any moment now.
What was going to happen to me after this?
"How careless of me," Fashire said, his voice not carrying the least bit of worry. "Then again, a normal human ought to have passed out from losing such a substantial amount of blood."
My hands twitched, tempted to touch my wound.
He was right. Why was I still alive and breathing? I should have lost consciousness by now too.
With a flick of his wrist, the vial appeared in his hand. He ogled it once more. "I couldn't find the source for this, but with enough tests..." He dangled the tiny bottle by its neck. "I'll get to the conclusion real soon." He glanced down at me, a predatory smile on his lips. "I do not like to repeat myself. I am sure I have just told you what to do."
I needed no further prompting. Dreading whatever new threats he would come up with, I sprang upwards and staggered to the door he had mentioned before. My legs felt numb and each step sent a wave of pain through my body, increasing the agony in my shoulder. My wounded arm dangled dangerously limp at my side, barely functional as I walked.
Any sharp movement, and my arm would rip right off my shoulder.
I held my nearly torn arm in support and clenched my jaw, struggling not to cry out from the pain. I made it to the door and twisted the cold, silver knob. Then, I rushed into the darkness and pulled the door shut behind me. Leaning against the wooden surface, I slid down to the floor with my back pressed against it.
There, in the embrace of darkness, I let the tears flow freely, my throat constricted and my chest heavy. How deeply entangled was I in this wretched mess? What was I going to do now? How would the servants treat me in the days to come?
Becca's betrayed eyes flashed in my mind, intensifying my anguish. I clutched my arm tighter, sitting still as even more dizzying pain washed over me, rolling down my arm and the rest of my body in slight waves. Something was soothing about it. It pushed away my worries, even if only for a moment...
"Venti," a low grumble resonated through the air, and I stiffened as another presence entered Lord Fashire's chamber. I hadn't heard any door open. Nor had I heard any footsteps. But the menacing tone in that voice was enough to root me to the spot. "Where is the girl?"
Every cell in my body screamed for me to move, but an irrational terror fixed me in place. The voice, seething with boundless fury, sounded unmistakably like Lord Lorn's. If he had been angry at the dining hall, now he seemed consumed by rage.
Lord Fashire's low chuckle reverberated through the chamber, an eerie contrast to the tension in the air.
"This is not funny!" Lord Lorn hissed.
"Lorn. Now, why would you barge into my chambers just like that?" Lord Fashire's voice brimmed with a dangerous edge.
A heavy silence followed, broken only by Lord Lorn's voice, now filled with warning. "Fashire, this is my castle. Every room ultimately belongs to me."
"Do not take another step," Lord Fashire growled, the earlier amusement vanishing from his words, replaced by an undercurrent of menace.
Silence followed until it was eventually broken by Lord Lorn.
"Did you think you could just leave after what you announced in there? The blood on the floors..." He paused. "They're gone. Evaporated into thin air. Every trace of it, Fashire. Did you know that?"
I heard low footsteps, followed by a murmur of surprise from Lord Fashire.
"What is this nonsense about humans turning into us for a period of time? Do you even realise the gravity of such a situation? Bring her out this instant," Lord Lorn continued, relentless.
I urged my legs to move but my muscles only twitched in response. Lord Lorn's words echoed in my mind and I tried to make sense of it. What exactly had Aunt been giving me? What about all the blood I've lost? I paused to notice the prolonged silence from the bed chamber. All I could hear was my laboured breathing.
I drew in a sharp breath.
Were they done talking? Lord Lorn had asked for me. What if Lord Fashire were to drag me out this instant?
"You shouldn't fret, Lorn," Lord Fashire interjected. "You don't have to worry about a legion of humans gaining vampiric abilities. This is but a mishap."
"What do you mean?"
Lord Fashire sighed. "The potion only works on her... from what I've gathered."
"Are you certain?"
"Do I ever jest?"
"On occasion, yes," Lord Lorn retorted sharply. "Too many occasions even."
"You and the others can go investigate for yourselves, then. The human rulers have no idea 'this' exists... The moment I found this in her quarters, I suspected it may have something to do with her masking as one of the lower vamps. I went into the other village and tried it on quite a number. Humans of various blood types. Just a drop, Lorn. A measly drop." He emphasized the last words. A strange excitement began to creep into Lord Fashire's voice.
I had a bad feeling about where this was going.
"And no changes? Symptoms?" Lord Lorn asked. "You couldn't have waited for a few hours? A number of days? Where are these humans?!"
"They're dead, Lorn. They dropped dead the moment it came in contact with their tongues."
A surge of horror washed over me, and the blood drained from my face.
"That Strome," Lord Fashire continued, "I remember her now. Hardworking. Diligent. No one could even have fathomed..."
"She is an anomaly at this point," Lord Lorn interjected. "Something irks me about Matadre's explanation of that person. I will have to look into the Northern stronghold... Is the girl related to her? Blood?"