Chapter Three
Marianna held onto her customer. She couldn’t remember his name, but at that moment she didn’t care. He’d been there when she needed him the most. If he hadn’t turned up to protect her, Marianna didn’t even want to consider the possibilities of what could have happened to her.
He stroked her hair and offered her soothing noises that worked.
“Thank you,” she said.
“Augustus.”
“What?” Marianna pulled away to stare into his eyes.
“My name is Augustus.”
She smiled. “It’s a very old name.”
“I’m an old soul.”
He stroked down the side of her face. She closed her eyes relishing the touch of his fingers on her body. “You’re so soft and delicate. I had no choice but to kill the men who did this to you.”
Augustus touched the bandage on top of her head. She winced at the pain.
“You killed the men who hurt me?” she asked, shocked. Panic rose up inside her, which was soon replaced because she had to relax.
The man in front of her let out a sigh. “This is not going to be easy.”
“What’s not going to be easy?” She rubbed her head and in doing so removed the bandage covering her cut. A scab hadn’t even been given the chance to form.
“Shit, I’m such a klutz,” she said, rubbing her head. Her finger came away with blood.
“Gregory!” Augustus yelled the word. She glanced up to see his eyes shining brightly at her. The man in front of her didn’t look like Augustus. He looked like an animal. He hissed at her, showing his fangs.
Marianna screamed as Augustus lunged at her. Before she could do anything his fangs sank into the flesh of her neck. They pierced her flesh making her immobile. She couldn’t stop. Her body went lax. It was like something was injected into her flesh stopping her from fighting.
Augustus moaned, holding her in a death grip.
“I wish you didn’t make me do this.” Gregory pressed a needle into Augustus’s back, and seconds later the fangs inside her neck retracted as the man on top of her slumped.
Feeling started returning to her body, and she pushed at him. Gregory helped to get him off her.
When she stumbled off the bed he caught her in his arms. “It’s all right. I’ve got you.”
“I don’t know what happened,” she said, holding onto him. What was happening to everyone? Was there a bulletin, which she hadn’t read, that said to pick on Marianna? “I keep getting attacked. What did you do to him? What’s going on?”
Gregory caught her face in his hands. “Look at me, Marianna,” he said.
She gazed at him.
“Augustus is going to be out of it for some time.”
“What did you inject into him to make him stop?” she asked.
“Holy water.”
Holy water?
She shook her head. “No. That’s not possible.” Marianna pulled away from him. The mirror across from the bed showed the blood dripping from her neck coating the shirt she wore.
“I need to get that cleaned up, and I think I need to talk to you about my little friend.”
Gregory walked out of the door. The man looked out of breath. She followed after him desperate for some answers.
Twice in one night she’d been attacked, and she needed to know why. She needed to know why Augustus, the very nice customer from the café, had fangs and why he’d bitten her. Marianna needed to know everything.
Gregory led her into one of the largest kitchens she’d ever seen.
“Augustus has very expensive tastes. When we move to a new place he needs to have the best.”
She didn’t say anything and took a seat at the long counter. Sitting next to the stove she saw the makings of a sandwich in front of her. “Is that for me?”
“Yeah, I’ll finish making it after I take care of your wound.” Gregory moved to the far wall and opened up a cupboard. “If it makes you feel any better Augustus will be beating himself up about biting you when he wakes up.”
“How is that supposed to make me feel better? He bit me, and I don’t even understand why he bit me or what gave him cause to think he could bite me. I’m so confused.” She rubbed the side of her head that wasn’t bleeding. The throbbing inside her head was getting worse with all the questions she had.
“I know this is hard for you to understand, but Augustus means well, most of the time.” Gregory walked toward her. He held a red box in his hands.
“Are you like him?” she asked, holding up her hands trying to ward him off.
“No, I’m not like him.”
“But you’re friends with him?” she asked.