“You’re a good leader, Colin. Remember that.”
Ida turned and went to finish cleaning up, and I turned back to my computer. I rubbed my forehead, trying to focus on what I was doing. The vampire attacks had confused me. Nobody really knew where they were coming from or what the cause was. Ever since the attack last year, though, people had been edgy and uncomfortable. There had been an air of uncertainty. Part of that was because Elizabeth had been killed. My wife had been the darling of Darkvale. Everyone had adored her.
Finally, I gave up on work. Standing, I stretched. I needed to get out more, I decided. Having Juliet around might be good for me. It would be nice to have a beautiful distraction as I tried to figure out how to take care of my city.
I headed toward my bedroom. The mansion I lived in at the heart of the city was beautiful and luxurious. It was located at the top of a small hill, and from this space, I could see just about everything. I could see the hospital, and I could see the neighborhoods. I could see the little apartment buildings and the houses and the business towers. I could see the wall that surrounded the city, and I could see what lurked just beyond the walls.
I could see it all, but still, I felt alone.
I was surrounded by vampires day in and day out. Most of my day consisted of solving problems I felt other people should surely be able to find a way to solve, yet they couldn’t. By the end of the day, I was always tired, and it seemed as though there was even more work to do the next day, and the next day, and the next.
When I went to bed that morning, I thought of the girl. She’d been pretty, and she’d smelled nice. I’d been pissed beyond all recognition when Juliet had screwed up the order for blood, but perhaps my anger had been misplaced. After all, from what I’d seen of the girl, she seemed rather clever. She was right when she told me she worked her ass off. I didn’t doubt that for a moment. She was wrong, however, when she made it seem as though she was the most important person in the hospital.
That was me.
I was the most important person.
As the vampire lord of the city, I was the one in charge of keeping all of the humans alive. My job was overwhelming and busy, and I did a lot of different things. She was important, and she was valuable, but she was nothing compared to me. She’d do well to remember it, too.
The sun was coming up as I fell asleep. The only thing that told me about the sunshine was the clock on the wall. All of the windows in the house were either boarded up or covered with deep, heavy curtains that had been nailed to the walls. There was a part of me that wanted to keep the curtains open at night so I could look out of the windows and see the stars, but the rest of me knew that was a terrible idea.
A vampire was supposed to be tucked away, carefully protected. We weren’t supposed to get close to windows. We weren’t supposed to do things like want to look outside or to see the stars.
That wasn’t how vampires were made.
I went to sleep, and when I woke up the next evening, I knew it was time to start preparing. Ideally, Juliet would arrive before my brother did. I wanted a few minutes to talk with her about how things were going to go. Namely, I wanted to warn her to stay away from him. I didn’t plan on locking her up or keeping her as some sort of blood slave. A doll, yes, but that wasn’t the same thing as a slave.
I wouldn’t be raping Juliet. I wouldn’t be hurting her. Well, not any more than she wanted to be hurt. She might not realize just how much her eyes gave away, but I’d seen the way they lit up when I reached for her throat. She’d been excited by the touch. She’d been delighted. She liked having me grab her and choke her a little bit.
Juliet was the kind of human I wanted to have in my bed. Maybe it wasn’t fair that I wasn’t planning to actually fuck her. Perhaps it wasn’t fair to either one of us. Maybe we deserved to sleep together. A beautiful human and a Vampire Lord? That could make for a great story.
Only, I had a lot of respect for the human. Perhaps I had more respect than I should have. She interested me, and she excited me, and I really just couldn?
??t wait to see what happened between us.
I had almost finished dressing for the day when there was a knock at the door. It sounded a bit frantic, and I hurried to open it. Ida stood there looking frazzled.
“He’s here,” she said.
“What?” How was that possible? The sun had only just set, yet my brother had already arrived? The thought was wildly annoying. I hadn’t expected him to come before midnight. Since when was Norman prompt?
“He rode in the night,” she said. “Apparently, he had a human bring him.”
“Fine,” I muttered.
I stomped out of the room, feeling annoyed and frustrated. My brother had been giving me a hard time our entire lives, and now he was here to give me a hard time about something else. Only this time, it was about something that actually mattered. He was a guest. Guests weren’t supposed to arrive early. Hadn’t he ever heard of being fashionably late?
When I reached the top of the stairs, I saw him standing just inside of the doorway. Norman was wearing a deep blue trench coat with jeans and a pair of bright red boots. It was a weird outfit. Then again, Norman had always been weird.
“Brother,” he said when he saw me. A grin spread over his face. He opened his arms wide, as though I was supposed to just run into them. Yeah, sure, whatever. I made my way down the staircase, wondering just how much of a fairy tale princess I resembled.
There I was, about to greet a stranger in my own home. More importantly, it was a man that I hadn’t seen in a very, very long time. I wasn’t happy to see him. Part of me wished that I’d simply denied his request to visit, but I knew he wanted to see me, and I hadn’t been able to push him away.
“How long has it been?” I asked when I reached him. We hugged each other. It was a slightly awkward, yet necessary gesture. If he was coming to see me, there was a reason. I didn’t know what it was, but I knew that it must be important. My brother and I only ever communicated by writing letters to one another. This was perhaps the very first time since Elizabeth passed away that we’d talked any other way.
“About a year,” he said.
“Feels like it’s only been a few months,” I muttered.