House of Royals(66)

“I’ve heard about the Debt,” I say as I watch one of the very Bitten we speak of pour Lillian a glass of red liquid.

“Jasmine enforces it with every ounce of strength she possesses.” Anna takes a sip of blood from her glass. “Let us feed on you for however long we deem necessary. We drain you of enough blood to turn you. Serve your term with the Debt. And go free as a Bitten into the world.”

I shake my head. “I don’t understand the Bitten. They just accept their servitude.”

“I understand civil war,” Anna says. And I don’t doubt what she says. “There will come a day when the vampires will have their own.”

“How long have you been part of the House?” I ask. I watch Jasmine and Micah dance, spinning in carefree circles. He dips her, kissing between her breasts as her head falls back, and she laughs.

“Only five years,” she responds. She crosses her arms over her chest and settles her weight onto one foot. It’s strange, she’s incredibly beautiful, maybe the most beautiful woman in the House, but she’s sharp, tough, and has a piss-off attitude that’s far more mature than Trinity’s. “I used to be a rogue. A wanderer without any ties. But it’s a lonely life.”

“You prefer this life over freedom?” I ask, surprised.

“It’s not like that,” she says with the shake of her head. “It’s about being with others like you. Who understand you. I have a theory that you’ll only keep yourself separate from us for a few years at most. I don’t know how your father stood it for all those years.”

I hadn’t considered it before. Will this life eventually get lonely? It’s makes sense. Being only able to go out at night, and everyone in this town is afraid of the dark. Who will I talk to? Rath? He’s the only guarantee of who will stay in my life. I’ll loose Ian. Elle. Even Daphne and Fred.

But the House will be here, and they will understand everything I will be going through.

No. I won’t ally myself with Jasmine. Ever.

“How long has it been since you resurrected?” I ask, changing the conversation.

“I was killed in the Revolutionary War,” Anna says. Her eyes grow dark and distant. “I pretended to be a boy so I could join the fight. I lasted four months before someone ran me through with a bayonet.”

It’s astounding. She’s told a huge, incredible story in just three short sentences. Mentally, I try to calculate just how old she is. Two hundred and fifty something years.

“I’m the oldest in the house,” she continues. “Next is Markov. He’s about to hit his two hundred year mark in the spring. Then Jasmine. She’s 125. Then the Kask brothers. Trinity, then Micah, Lillian, and baby Cameron. He’s only seven years post-resurrection.”

Between all of the house members there is so much history. The things they’ve seen. The wars they’ve lived through. The revolutions and the changes. It’s incredible.

And all of that potential for such a profoundly long life is laid before me.

I’m supposed to be at work right now. I should be working side by side with Fred, getting the pastries for the day ready. But I’ll never set foot in that heaven-scented shop again.

The party carries on. I’m anxious the entire time, and I try not to let it show. But then again, my sweating palms, increased heart rate, my anxiety that I know every one of them can sense is totally justified. They just don’t know the real source it originates from.

When the time nears five a.m. and the sun will soon start creeping up in the horizon, things begin to wind down. Half a dozen humans are passed out on the floor in random places. Others sit, in a blood-drained haze. I don’t know where the rest are. I hope they’re alive. I wonder if any new Bitten have been created tonight.

But the House members all look happily satisfied. Full of blood. Knowing they are soon to be returned to honor.

“It’s time,” Jasmine says. She comes up from behind me and lays a hand on my shoulder.

My heart both flutters out of control and calms, if that’s even possible. It’s time.

I remember that all these vampires have perfect, enhanced hearing because Jasmine didn’t say it very loud, yet every one of them comes from one part of the house or another.

“I thought we could have a beautiful goodbye to your old life,” Jasmine says as we start walking toward the front door. “I thought we could do the Bloodletting outside, where you can see the sun begin to rise. But, having been converted to your new life, you’ll die just before the sun rises.”

How morbid. “Alright,” I say instead.