In a place of monsters, lest I forget.
The guy stops in front of us, his eyes swiftly moving over me before turning to my companion. “What did he say about this one, Paul?”
“Only that she rests today and light housekeeping tomorrow,” Paul, apparently, replies. “I-I must tend the horses before they get cold.”
“Go,” the guy tells him, almost softly. Paul all but runs his skinny arse out of the room, the door shutting behind him.
“I’m Cross McGowan, twenty-four years old, and I can tell you’re scared—”
I cut him off. “I’m not scared any more than you are. I’m not going to pass out or be a silly girl about this place, that’s not who I am. Now, Cross, I want to know everything about vampires.”
Cross raises his eyebrows. “It might be good if I know your name, lass.”
“Riona Dark, and I’m twenty-two,” I say and offer him my hand. “I was studying at Aberdeen University, and I might not have a Scottish accent, thanks to my very British parents, but I think we come from similar places.”
“My family are nearer Inverness,” he replies, taking my hand. His feels warm, comforting almost after such a long few days. “And I did not mean to offend you. But usually, everyone is scared.”
“Fearing them is feeding them,” I answer, moving my hand from his. “And I don’t intend to help them feed.”
Cross watches me closely for a long second, and I can’t guess at what he sees. “Follow me then, Riona Dark. Come and see the house of horrors.”
I cross my arms as he walks off, purposely keeping his pace slow for me as we get to the stairs and walk to the top. The space up here tiers off in four directions, dozens of rooms in each one, and at the end of two of them, I can see further stairs. “Right, to our left is the way to the kitchens and washing. You need something cleaned or cooked, you go down there.”
“What is the point of a kitchen for a vampire?”
“They eat the same as we do and drink wine, with no hangover. I wish I could do that fecking shit with whiskey,” he comments, making me smile, and points at the next corridor. “This one is for guests, and I wouldn’t recommend heading down it. The middle corridor is full of useless rooms; we don’t use them much, and the final one is our living quarters. The humans the prince owns, that is. There aren’t many of us.”
“How many?” I question.
“Ten in total, ever changing. Five of us are constant and rarely leave, so you should know them. You’ve met two of us, and the girls, I will introduce you to when I can,” he cryptically replies. “There is one vampire he lets live here as well. I’m sure you will meet him.”
“Where does the prince sleep then?” I ask, wanting to be as far away from that room as possible.
“Downstairs, there is a ballroom, many living quarters, and he uses them all. Don’t venture in there unless you are invited, lass,” he carefully warns me. “Out of sight, out of mind works well with the Mad Prince.”
“I have a feeling that won’t work for me and him,” I tightly reply. But I am sure as hell going to try hiding. This castle is huge, and I bet he wouldn’t find me right away.
Cross doesn’t reply to me, instead nodding his head to the side and walking away. I follow after him down the corridor to the far right, and when we get near the end, Cross pulls out a load of keys from a keychain and takes one off. He slides it in the door, and it clicks as it unlocks.
“The bed isn’t made up, and the shared bathroom is next door to this room, but I can do that—”
“I can make a bed,” I reply, and he hands me the key. “Thank you for the brief tour.”
Cross steps back, and he lifts his arm, rubbing the back of his neck. His hazel eyes stay on me. “Do you have a family to get back to, Riona?”
“Parents and a brother...if he isn’t on this island, that is,” I reply, a tightness building in my throat. I very well know a vampire might have my brother now and may have killed him for supper. Arlo could be dead too...and the thought of either of them gone is devastating. Cross must see the pain in my eyes as he steps closer and places his large hand on my shoulder.
“I don’t know if I believe in any god anymore, not since I was taken and brought here, but there is magic. That’s real, and if it is, then possibly there is good magic to counter the bad here. There is hope...,” he drifts off and clears his throat. “Hope is a good thing to hold onto. It’s what we all do to survive this.”
“I don’t want to simply survive this,” I say, stepping away, and his hand drops. “I want to beat them. I will ask you everything I want to know tomorrow about vampires as I did notice you avoided my question.”
“You can’t kill them easily,” he warns. “Unless you happen to have enough strength to cut their heads off or have a certain weapon that is very rare. Trust me, even if you did manage to kill one, dozens would kill you in unimaginable ways right back. Vampires are loyal to each other, and they worship the royal line.”
“I won’t give up,” I counter, holding my head high.
Cross chuckles and steps away, looking over his shoulder. “No, I don’t think you will.”
I watch him walk away before going into my new room and shutting the door, locking it for good measure even though I’m aware a vampire could break the door in seconds to get in here. Sunlight beams through the window in the small room, which has a double bed, a dark wood cabinet with a glass lamp on top of it, and a wooden wardrobe with silver handles. The window has no curtains, and nothing about this room is personal, which I almost like. I can pretend no one lived in it before and died, because I know someone must have. I slide my boots off, noticing how my arm is fully healed. Even my feet have no more cuts on them. Vampire blood heals quickly, and I’m slightly thankful for it, even while being disgusted that the Mad Prince’s blood is in my system. I lie down on the bed, and even though I don’t feel safe, and never will on this island, my exhausted body gives into sleep quickly.
Chapter Eleven
“She’s pretty enough, but I still don’t get the uproar over her.” Waking, I blink at the female voice and sit up, staring at two women standing at the foot of my bed. They stare down at me, and one of them tilts her head to the side, her long black hair falling like a wave around her darkly tanned skin.
“There must be something in her blood, something that makes her tasty,” the woman replies with a wistful sigh. “At least he will be distracted with her for a little while.”
The other woman, who is younger and I would figure near enough my age, blinks once. She has freckles all over her pale skin, and blonde hair so light it looks like snow. Both of these women are absolutely beautiful, and there is no doubt they are human. Their dresses? Well, they are old and strange, much like the one I am wearing. Cross and that other prince seem to be the only ones in the twenty-first century. “Maybe he will kill her and we don’t have to explain everything once again. It gets boring after a while.”
“Who the hell are you two?” I demand, having enough of their debate over me.
The blonde laughs, and it’s a sweet sound. Sweet but filled with a vindictive bitterness I don’t like. “I’m Marcella,” she introduces herself and lifts her hand, looking at her nails. “Cross sent us in here to wake you up and hand you some clothes. He will meet you in the kitchen, don’t be late.”