Authors: Joey W Hill
Tags: #Vampires, #Horror, #Paranormal, #General, #Romance, #Fantasy, #Erotic Fiction, #Erotica, #Fiction, #Occult & Supernatural
Vampire Instinct (50 page)
She’d met plenty of women who’d set aside one dream in favor of a more practical one, and lived long and happy lives for it. For this immediate moment, she resolved to go about her duties . . . once she had feeling in her extremities again. Chores were chores. She could take care of others, enjoy each day God gave her, and let the rest be what it was. She couldn’t change it.
The girls did very well on their trip into the house. In fact, Nerida and Miah ended up at Kohana’s elbows, watching him make cookies with wide-eyed fascination, and Mal had to intervene to explain their constitution could handle only one cookie, not twenty. Thereafter, they sat perched on stools, noses lifted like the lion cubs, inhaling the scent in a state of absorbed bliss. They touched everything. Books, furniture, carpet, walls, window treatments, pictures, dishes . . .
It was obvious how long it had been since they’d been allowed inside any type of civilized human habitation. Elisa tried not to let that twist her heart in pity, at least not in any detectable way, mindful of Mal’s reminder to act as if all of this was quite normal. For the most part, he sat quietly in his chair, reading the papers from the mainland, though Elisa knew his attention was fully on the girls at all times. They were calmer than she’d ever seen them, however, such that when she sat down near him to sew, they eventually approached and settled with her. She was able to show each how to do the stitches, and gave them swatches of fabric on which to practice, their heads bent attentively.
It was likely the first time since their kidnapping they’d been given something to do that any human girl might learn to do, to help keep the family’s clothes in good order.
Elisa watched Miah’s head, the sure fingers. Remembering the way she’d tried to wheelbarrow away from Leonidas, she couldn’t bear to think of how many times she must have been subjected to the foul appetites of Ruskin’s adult male vampires. When the girl’s head rose, apparently feeling her regard, Elisa met her gaze. “I’d like to brush your hair. It’s so pretty, we could put ribbons in it. See, I have these blue satin ones.” She pulled them out of her “magic basket,” as well as her wooden brush, and immediately the little girls’ fingers were all over them. Miah stole a glance at Mal, then turned her attention back to Elisa.
“All you have to do is nod if you’d like me to do that. If not, it’s completely okay. You won’t hurt my feelings.”
A choice. Did anyone really understand the value of it, until they faced the loss of it? These children had woken up from a brutal turning to find they’d never again see sunlight, never again stuff themselves on chocolate chip cookies. Even in her narrow life of being a domestic, there’d been choices. Only in that brief moment with Leonidas and then Victor had she known what it was to be relegated to complete insignificance, to know that her desires and wants didn’t matter in the least, that whatever they’d wanted to do to her, they would. It was a feeling that couldn’t be described, a hellish experience, and these girls had lived it for God knew how long.
She could feel Mal’s attention on her, and she stilled the faint tremor in her hands such thoughts raised. She didn’t want to agitate the girls. Miah was studying her face too closely already. However, a moment later the older girl turned her upper body enough to look toward Mal again. She didn’t meet his gaze, but instead fastened her eyes briefly on his chest, a message of sorts. Which Elisa figured out when the girl turned back to her and slowly, slowly reached toward Elisa’s hand, the one holding the brush.
Elisa watched the slim brown fingers close over hers. Then Miah made the same gesture toward Elisa’s head that she’d made toward the girls. “Brush . . . yours.”
29
E
LISA looked toward Mal, and he gave her a slight nod. She smiled toward Miah, trying not to show how emotional such a request, such perception of her state of mind, made her. Instead, she shifted to make it easier for Miah to get behind her. She hadn’t had her hair cut since she’d been here, so she usually kept the unruly longer curls pinned up with creative use of bobby pins. Now Miah plucked them free deftly, handing them to Nerida with soft murmurs of noise that passed for language. When they were all out, she started to brush Elisa’s hair.
LISA looked toward Mal, and he gave her a slight nod. She smiled toward Miah, trying not to show how emotional such a request, such perception of her state of mind, made her. Instead, she shifted to make it easier for Miah to get behind her. She hadn’t had her hair cut since she’d been here, so she usually kept the unruly longer curls pinned up with creative use of bobby pins. Now Miah plucked them free deftly, handing them to Nerida with soft murmurs of noise that passed for language. When they were all out, she started to brush Elisa’s hair.
Elisa had shifted her body such that she was facing Mal. As she raised her attention to him, she saw he was watching Miah with that peculiar stillness vampires had. It meant he had all his considerable senses focused on her, ready for anything unexpected. She had no doubt if Miah twitched in an improper manner, he’d have her whisked across the room from Elisa in a heartbeat. But she was more resilient now. She was a third-mark servant, could feel that additional strength pumping through her, even though she knew it didn’t make her invincible. She was quietly ecstatic that Mal was letting this happen, and that Miah had felt secure enough in his presence to try it. She took it as a good omen for their upcoming trip, what they would tell Lord Marshall about the fledglings. Hopefully the boys would do as well.
Nerida was fishing in her basket, and had come up with several different-colored ribbons in addition to the blue. The child held them up for Elisa’s inspection and she nodded. “Those would be lovely. I’ll be so fancy Kohana will think I’m going to a station social instead of planning to peel potatoes. Course, I bet you’d make short work of those mountains of potatoes, wouldn’t you, you clever thing?”
Nerida studied her, head cocked, and then the small mouth bowed. Elisa stilled at the hint of a smile; then the girl ducked her head and fished in the basket again. Now she pulled out something else, several strips of tanned leather that had some sparkles on them, beadwork.
“Oh, that’s—” Elisa grimaced, catching herself before she made the abrupt snatching movement that could startle the girls. Too late, Nerida caught her mild dismay.
In a flash, she’d dropped it. Not only had she jerked away from the basket, but she’d curled in her habitual ball on the floor, her head ducked down from Mal’s retribution. Miah froze, but unlike her sister, she held her position, tense, right behind Elisa. Mal’s attention locked on her like the site of a rifle. All of this in less than a second.
“Here, now, none of that,” Elisa said quietly, before anyone could decide to do anything. She lifted the beaded strip from the basket, catching Nerida’s attention between the arms folded over her head. “I wasn’t at all angry, Nerida. This is something I was making Mr. Malachi for Christmas, and I just didn’t want to give away the surprise. Which is really kind of foolish, considering he can read my mind and certainly probably knows I’ve been working on it during off-hours. Chumani and Kohana have been helping me learn the beadwork, which is fairly straightforward if you already know quite a bit of needlework, but I’m sure mine is not so fine as someone who’s been doing it for a while.”
She rose then, went to a squat next to the girl. This time, her mind was fully attuned to Mal’s. They didn’t have to have a conscious conversation. She felt his acceptance of her course of action, because he was reading it as she moved forward, just as she read his reassurance that he was ready if something went amiss.
Going to a crouch next to Nerida, she held out the beaded strip. The beads were a blue background, with brown and yellow cat’s eyes worked along it in a pattern, and the tanned leather had been cut into a fringe strip at the end. She’d originally imagined him wearing such a thing in his hair with feathers, but of course, she’d made it so he could affix it to the knife holster he wore at his belt if he preferred, or even tie it on as a bracelet, weaving together the fringe so it didn’t become a deadly distraction for the cats. Kohana had pointed out that hazard, noting if one of the leopards took a playful swipe at it, they could lay open his arm like a fish’s gullet.
“I know Lord Ruskin and his vampires did awful things to you,” Elisa said, watching the attention in that solemn brown eye. “They played games, tricked you by being nice and then, when you came close, they hurt you. Which was even more unkind, because they could hurt you whenever they wished, right? They didn’t have to fool you to do it. The only reason they did that was because they were horrible, soulless monsters who should be roasting in hell now, if there is a hell for such vileness. But sometimes rather than hell, I think it’s better to just imagine them as dust, nothingness, no soul to roast. They just don’t exist anymore.” She spread out her fingers, as if shaking dust away from them, and the girl’s eyes followed the motion.
Miah had intended to follow her to Nerida’s side, but Mal had kept her in place with a look and a gesture, so Elisa glanced her way now, with a kind nod.
“The very fact you and Miah wanted to dress my hair says you’re learning. Learning to hope, learning that this place is different. We’re different. I’ve never tricked you, have I? I’ve never told you something that wasn’t true. You’re vampires and you can pick up my emotions as well as Mr. Malachi or any of his wild creatures. So now I want you to think, because you are a clever, clever girl. Mr. Malachi has not harmed any of you, or threatened to harm you, except when he thought you were going to harm me or someone on his staff, right? He’s protecting them; that’s all.
“So come sit up,” she said in a firm, no-nonsense Mrs. Rupert voice. “Let’s do your hair and Miah’s, now that she’s brushed mine so pretty. We’d do Mr. Malachi’s for him, but men don’t like that kind of fussing.”
She tossed a smile in Mal’s direction. His eyes glinted at her in that way that made her knees feel a little weak. “We’ll talk Kohana into it, because he has really long hair. I can try out my gift in his hair and then make Mr. Malachi another he doesn’t know about. After all, Kohana needs a Christmas gift, too.”
She’d placed a hand on Nerida’s arm as she spoke, curling her hand around the thin limb. It was the first time she’d ever tried touching the girl, and she did it calmly, rewarded when Nerida didn’t recoil. She did feel a frisson of warning from Mal, but it was simply a caution, not a prohibition, so she exerted gentle force, rubbing her until the girl sat up, glancing under those long lashes toward Mal and then toward that beaded strip. Reaching out with tiny fingers, she took it from Elisa’s fingers with precise caution.
“Just wait until we get closer to Christmas.” Elisa kept the exultance from her voice with effort. “We’ll make popcorn strings for the cats in the habitats. We’ll use very thin strips of leather or even intestines for that”—she made a face—“because of course we can’t use actual string, but I think it will still be fun . . .”
Elisa found Miah at her elbow now, reaching forward to touch the decoration. A clanking of pots from the kitchen area drew her gaze to Kohana in the open pass-through. He’d arrived from the chicken coop with his eggs and was preparing to cook. Nerida met Miah’s gaze. Elisa drew in a surprised breath as the two scampered gracefully toward the kitchen, the beaded strips and brush in tow.
Elisa’s gaze darted to Mal, relieved to see he’d remained seated, calm. He shook his head, a slight smile on his firm mouth. “I’ve told Kohana not to be alarmed and, aside from the fact two vampire fledglings now want to dress his hair up, he’s not unduly concerned.”
Elisa saw Kohana indeed was not perturbed, though he sent her a pained look as Nerida clambered onto the counter and combed through his hair with her fingers, while Miah pushed over a chair to get him to sit, since neither girl could come close to reaching his great height. Miah fingered the eggs, lifting one to her nose to smell, and Kohana chided her in his gruff way to put those down, because those were for the hands, and maybe he’d show her all the ways they cooked them up.
Long fingers circled Elisa’s wrist. She looked away from the scene to have Mal tug her into a tumble on his lap, a sudden movement that briefly caught the girls’ attention; then they went back to Kohana. “It was a nice Christmas gift,” Mal told her. “Thank you.”
“I’ll make you another. Unless you’d prefer Kohana have it because it’s a girlish fancy you don’t think you can wear in front of the others. But he told me Lakota warriors sometimes wore such things.”
“Warriors?”
She nodded. “You’re a warrior. You fight for the cats, even these fledglings. You fight to be who you are.”
“And what’s that?”
“I don’t know,” she said honestly, dropping her head back to meet his gaze, then sliding her attention to his throat, because sometimes she was overwhelmed by the intensity in his eyes. She wondered if it was that problem as much as vampire etiquette that often kept servants from meeting a vampire’s gaze. “But I think you’re figuring it out yourself.”
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