And by this, she means people to feed on.
My stomach turns, knowing that very soon, this will appeal to me. I’ll crave it. I’ll enjoy it.
“When the time comes,” I say, vocalizing the most terrifying part of my entire plan. But one I’ve very carefully thought out. “I want the entire House to take me. All nine of you. I want you all to feed on me until I’m dry and dead. It seems only fitting.”
I feel the collective intake of breath and the anticipation that builds with it. For a moment, I’m afraid of what I’ve just suggested. Maybe it’s offensive, or too extreme, even for a House of vampires.
“It’s called a Bloodletting,” Jasmine says. And when I look at her, she has a smile on her face. “It is the most honorable way to transition into a House. The ultimate act of acceptance, surrounding yourself to your House members. By letting them take from you. It is a legend among vampires and not often practiced because of the rarity of the situation that calls for it. I myself was transitioned this way.”
The way she says it, like she’s trying to undermine me, it makes my stomach boil.
I swallow hard once again and nod. Apparently, my morbid plotting isn’t original. “That’s the way I want it done.”
A conflicted smile grows on Jasmine’s face. “Very well. House members! We must get to work. We have a party to throw in an hour and a big finale just before dawn!”
MY EYES FLICK TO THE clock once again. Three in the morning. I have three more hours until Ian starts to wake up. Until Rath will have to give him another dose. I have no doubts that Rath will give it to him, but Ian is Ian and his will is stronger than those around him most of the time.
There’s the constant feeling on my shoulders that something could go wrong, so it will.
Voices collect downstairs. Laughter, talking, music. Even in the dead of night, a House of vampires are somehow able to concoct a party out of thin air.
I am the honored guest, here to die, and everyone else present to celebrate it.
“You look lovely,” Lillian says as she puts the final touches on my hair.
I look in the full-length mirror in her room where we’ve been getting ready. A red dress, like blood, with spilling ruffles hugs my body. A corset top makes me look like a woman in all the right ways. It’s floor length. My hair is done up in an elegant twist and two white flowers are pinned into it.
I look like the princess everyone says I am.
“Thank you for all your help,” I say quietly as my hands fidget.
“You are very welcome,” Lillian says as she adjusts something with my hair. “And this doesn’t leave this room, but I do wish you were fully claiming the House. You would make a fantastic ruler. You’re smart, and crafty, and kind. And that’s an uncommon combination.”
I shake my head. “I hate politics. I know nothing about being a leader. I don’t want it.”
“Yet you’ve backed Jasmine into a corner, ripped the rug out from under her feet. You’ve gained my trust, made Markov doubt who should be in charge. Are you sure this isn’t the life for you?” Lillian looks over my shoulder at me in the mirror.
“I want something I can’t have.” The words slip from my lips before I can think about them.
And the look in Lillian’s eyes tells me that she knows exactly what I am talking about.
The door to Lillian’s room opens and in steps Anna. “It’s time. They’re ready for you.”
I turn and try to calm the fear that’s threatening to claw its way up my throat.
Anna is severe-looking with her sharp cheekbones, intense eyes. Her hair is pulled back in a slick twist. A black leather corset top gives way to black tulle that falls to her knees.
She’s fierce and beautiful at the same time.
The three of us walk out to the top of the stairs. Down below, the rest of the House members wait for us, accompanied by a dozen humans.
“Tonight we honor Alivia Ryan,” Jasmine says, holding up a glass of red liquid, too thick to be wine. “With her sacrifice, our House will be restored to honor, which it has not had for far too long. We thank you for your sacrifice.”
“Here, here,” they all say as they too hold up glasses. Cameron in a t-shirt mock-print tux. Trinity with a sneer. Micah with death in his eyes. The Kask brothers—Christian and Samuel—with hunger and lust. Markov with that curious look of anticipation. And Jasmine. It’s difficult to read her.
I don’t quite know what to do, so I take a little curtsey. And together, Anna, Lillian, and I, descend the stairs.
Samuel hands me a glass of wine as soon as I reach the bottom. “It helps if you’re not stone cold sober when they do it,” he says in a low voice. “Drink up.”