About me page, just in case you want to get to know me a little bit better.
Monster Masterlist: It’s small but growing, currently in a medieval fantasy times.
Fairytale Retelling Masterlist: Monsters love princes & princesses too.
Recruiter Masterlist: Tokyo Sea Disney Villain Recruiters! [CLOSED]
ObeyMe Masterlist: Yes, I like the ObeyMe Shall We Date game.
Maps: I like to draw out places that I want to write about, it helps me mentally visualize to write.
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If you really want to read some long stories to invoke tears and strong feelings, I have a long series that I’m writing on fanfic, and AO3. All platforms will have the same stuff, if I get the balls to do it, I might post my monster stories there. I'm even being a good English major and editing then before posting them!
SETTING: 1860-70s, Wild West, cowboys, gilded age, post war era
This started off as a competition piece, and then it turned into something more. I have a rough idea where this story is going, but I'm still figuring it out and trying to listen to what the story wants.
For now, I'm planning on posting the first act (13 chapters) here on Tumblr, if I get enough engagement/enough people like this story I will continue to post here, however I am also posting on my Patreon. If you would like to support me there, please follow the link.
I hope you enjoy this journey with me.
SUMMARY:
As the school semester has come to an end so has Arabella Edevane's finances. With no word from her father for months and the banks and Cousin Leroy getting impatient on what she plans to do with the house, bad news only gets worse as a letter from Aunt Euphemia arrives, demanding she travel across the West to track down her father.
As part of her aunt's demands, it is up to Arabella to find them a suitable travel companion to face the dangers that lay ahead. Against all her morals Arabella is forced to purchase a travel companion from the terrible Orion Hunters and Octavius is hardly what he seems. Dangerously beautiful and charming there are many secrets to uncover that could save or endanger Arabella further.
Stepping out of the bathroom, the first thing he saw was Arabella; more specifically her back as she lay curled in the bed. Her cornsilk hair was no longer in a tight bun but pulled back in a long ponytail of curls at the base of her neck that fell like a long curtain over the lip of the bed. She no longer wore her evening gown and instead wore a simple chemise that hung loosely from her thin frame, dipping low in the back and revealing long scars down the length of her back that disappeared beneath the fabric. The faint scars stopped him in his tracks and filled him with a sense of rage that had the beast within growling deep in his chest.
She turned at the sound, and he saw dark circles under her eyes. She attempted to smile, but it disappeared with a yawn, “You’re done?”
Still taken aback by the scars that were now hidden by the blanket she brought up to her chin, he stiffly nodded his head
Arabella let out another yawn and pointed at the light across the room. “If you would, please turn out the lights. I really need to sleep now.”
He wordlessly crossed the room and turned the light off in two clicks.
“Thank you,” she sighed in exhaustion and the springs of the mattress squeak as she rolled back on her side. “You’re more than welcome to share the bed. There’s plenty of room for us both.”
He sincerely doubted it but humored her nonetheless and laid on top of the covers beside her in the bed. Even with the layers of blankets he was incredibly close to her, enough so that he could hear her heartbeat settling into a steady rhythm for the evening. Already her breaths were even as sleep took her and as the fading moonbeams cut through the curtains and gently cascaded over her, she looked as ethereal as an elf blessed by a goddess.
He found her beauty considerably grating since she was just a human, but there was something about her that he was drawn to. Laying this close he noticed the red handprint on her cheek was practically gone now, not even a bruise was left behind. Knowing that it was gone eased something within him, but the old woman was going to be a problem. He needed to do whatever he could to keep the pair separated.
As Arabella succumbed to sleep, he noticed the atrocious the ring of control on her finger. It was large, crude, and bulky on her delicate finger and didn’t suit her in the least. The sight of it made his anger boil and it glinted temptingly for him to take, though he knew he would have to remove her entire finger for it to release the control it had over him. She had remained good to her word and hadn’t commanded him to do anything against his will, even when she begged him to release her aunt, she hadn’t commanded him, still just knowing someone had power over him irritated him.
Unable to linger beside her and that ring any longer, Octavius rose with an irritated huff and moved to the window. Making sure to close the curtains behind him so as not to disturb the lady’s much needed sleep, he sat in the window and frowned at the world beyond the glass. The view outside was just as boring with little but the fading stars, setting moon, and brick houses to look at. The architecture was boring and very mundanely human. The sun would rise in a few short hours and really confine him to the dark spaces of this house.
Already dreading the idea of remaining in such a dismal place caused his thirst to burn his throat and Octavius considered transforming and sneaking out to catch a drunk in an alley to satiate his thirst, but movement in the garden caught his eye and made him pause. A hooded figure with a basket shuffled slowly to the bushes on the farthest corner of the garden. The hooded figure’s back was to the window, and he could not make out who the suspicious character was, but he was certain something nefarious was afoot, especially since the garden had plain trees and shrubbery.
Eyes narrowing, Octavius quietly unlocked the window and gently pushed it open, just enough for a bat to slip through. Focusing his limited magic, his body slowly began to shrink, his arms grew spread out wide, his fingers elongated until the patagium grew between the fingers and spacing of his arms as he transformed from a man to a small bat. It was much more painless of a transformation than it had been in the past, but with how drained his magic reservoir was it would be difficult to transform again until he’d had a chance to properly feed. He had done his best to grit and bear it through the pain to avoid making noises, and he paused on the seat of the window long enough to make sure he didn’t wake Arabella before slipping out the window.
His nightshirt fell into a heap, nearly swallowing him whole as a bat as he climbed to the window to stretch his wings out wide. The breeze was oddly warm and inviting as he jumped off the lip of the window to glide to the nearest tree. He relished the briefest feeling of freedom, gliding into a full circle before making his way to the corner of the garden. However, the hooded figure was gone and nowhere in sight.
Landing on a low hanging branch he twisted his head sideways, squinting hard to find what was so fascinating about this bush in the corner. He gave a small screech and his echolocation revealed that there were berries under the plain shrubbery. Swooping down to the ground, Octavius uncovered large inky black berries tucked underneath the bushes. Even in his normal form he would have entirely overlooked them with how greatly hidden they were. Sniffing the beckoning fruits, Octavius recognized the berries immediately and hissed.
Belladonna.
To the drow they were grown commonly and used as a hallucinogen for ceremonies, magical rites, and extravagant parties; in a previous life he was forced to leave, his own brothers liked to mull them over time into the worst sweet tasting wines for their obnoxious parties. However, this delectable berry was quite deadly to humans to the point that depending on the variety touching them could be deadly.
Daring to get closer, he noted that the ground was particularly moist to properly cultivate the toxic plant and given that much care had gone into hiding the plant that this wasn’t here by chance.
What need could there be to have this plant in her garden?
The old woman had a dreadful temperament, but surely, she didn’t have that many enemies in high society that she would need to go to such lengths of protecting herself. It would draw too much attention if she went around poisoning her enemies; but he suddenly recalled Arabella mentioning that her aunt was a widow early in her life. His ear flicked and uneased dropped into the tiny pit of his stomach. It was achingly familiar to how most drow behaved. Most of his memories were forcibly pushed from the recesses of his mind at the time of his forced transformation, but the worst memories of poisoning, betrayal, and torture his people eagerly performed remained fresh in his mind. Octavius didn’t appreciate the foreboding feeling quickly creeping into his veins.
The sound of a door squeaking shut made his bat ear twitch and he turned back in the direction of the house and looked at the window leading to his master’s room. While he still had time to linger and find something to satisfy his thirst, Octavius felt a sense of urgency to return to her room while she remained vulnerable in her sleep. He had no true obligation to keep his new master alive, but she had naïvely taken a rather hard slap for him, and for that Octavius was at least indebted to her enough to at least make sure she would wake to see another day.
Climbing the nearest tree, he quickly flapped his wings on the first gust of wind to return to his master’s room. He easily fitted into the small opening, summoned the remainder of his magic to quickly transform back into a man. Without a proper amount of magic, the transformation was most painful, and he nearly fell onto the floor as the heavier weight of being a drow caught up with him. Skin stretched, bones regrew and shrunk, leaving him panting in exhaustion as he drew his nightshirt over his head. He could not bother with the unnecessary line of buttons down his torso and only buttoned the ones around his waist.
Taking a moment to recover, he closed the window and shut the curtains tight to seal the rising sun out. He deftly crept across the floor, making sure none squeaked under foot, and went to the door, pressing his ear against it. He listened for any sounds from below, but this room was far enough away from the rest of the house that he truly had to strain himself to hear anything. The silence from within did little to ease the foreboding that lingered in his bones. Unable to shake this feeling, he pressed his back against the door and slid to the floor, crossing his arms and closing his eyes to at least rest and trying to recover some of his magic that he spent in his transformation.
[SCENE CHANGE/HOURS PASS]
Achoo!
Octavius’s eyes snapped open and immediately looked at the clock on the wall opposite him. It was half past ten, meaning he’d sat on the floor for nearly seven hours. The curtains were still closed keeping the sunlight out and allowing Arabella to sleep a little longer, but the hair on his neck rose as his instincts screamed at him to transform or find a place to hide. He, however, had no magic left to transform and would have no choice but to dance the fine line in the shadows for now.
Knock, knock, knock.
He was up on his feet ready to launch himself at whoever was at the door as he opened it, only to stop short at the sight of the aging butler who recoiled away from the door. Beside the butler was a serving cart with two silver domes parked outside the door and a long clothing bag draped over his arm. Octavius merely shook his head and eyed the man up and down, trying to decide if he could have been the hooded figure. He looked slightly shorter and there were no signs on his clothing that he’d been out early this morning
“G – Good morning,” the butler greeted stiffly, obviously surprised that Octavius was the one answering the door. “Is Miss Arabella awake?”
Octavius silently shook his head and the butler scoffed. Wanting to confirm the man’s intentions, he easily peered into his mind.
Lazy witch, of course she’d sleep in after waking the rest of us up before dawn. . .
Octavius’s eyes narrowed at the man’s thoughts and the butler in turn shivered under his gaze. He wasn’t the perpetrator from the garden, but he was no less disgusting than the other humans he’d encountered.
“Very well,” the butler huffed as he grasped the cart and pushed it towards the door. “Should Miss Arabella feel up to eating it, this is her breakfast.” He gestured to the first silver dome, “and this one is yours. I would highly recommend you enjoy your breakfast in the bathroom or some place that is easier to clean depending on the mess you can make of it.”
Octavius sniffed the air and practically began to salivate. There was freshly spilled blood under his dome and throat burned with need. The butler lifted the dome and Octavius’s fangs threatened to pierce through his lips at the baby goat on a platter.
“Fresh goat,” the butler declared with a grimace. “Killed just short of an hour ago.”
Octavius merely nodded his head and without another word, pulled the whole cart into the room. The door was quickly shut and locked. His hunger quickly grew insatiably to the point of instability, and he stole a glance at the bed to see that Arabella was still sleeping. Staying as quiet as he could, he took the entire plate and dome into the bathroom and quickly locked the door.
With great self-control he set the dome and plate on a cabinet to the side of the door and took the goat carcass with him into the bathtub. He doubted he’d make a mess, after all he was starving and wasn’t likely to waste a drop, but he’d prefer to be able to wash the evidence away, if only for Arabella’s sake. Blood was unsightly to humans and the last thind he needed was for her to shriek at the sight of it.
Fangs fully extended; Octavius sunk his teeth into the animal and couldn’t help but groan as the blood touched his tongue. He drank slow and deep, savoring the first meal he’d had in over three months. It was still warm like a delicious, mulled wine and had a strange, oat-y flavor to it. He almost couldn’t swallow it down fast enough. The longer he drank the carcass started to shrivel and shrink in his hands and the taste became suddenly sickeningly familiarly sweet. Were he not caught up in a gluttonous haze and of a more rational mind he would have stopped the moment the flavor changed, but he couldn’t stop until there was nothing but bone left in his hands.
Removing the goat from his mouth his stomach turned instantly. Everything he consumed instantly threatened to come back up with a vengeance. Grabbing the edges of the tub to pull himself up, he kept his mouth shut in a sorry attempt to swallow everything back down until he couldn’t and was forced to empty his stomach. In three large heaves his stomach was empty and left him quivering, his nails digging into the edges of the tub as he forced himself to stay relatively upright.
Lumpy goop as black as squid ink land in the white porcelain tub. There wasn’t a speck of color resembling blood. With a shaking hand he managed to turn on the faucet and watched it slowly wash down the drain. His stomach threatened to twist again and with a few dry heaves and nothing came back up, he assumed it was completely over. Octavius cupped his hands under the running water and quickly sipped it to wash the horrible taste from his mouth.
The nightshirt he wore was wet and stained with a strange combination of blood and black goop and he scowled. He’d made a mess just like the butler said, as if he knew the goat had been tampered with prior. With shaking hands, he stripped out of the nightshirt and watched the lingering black goop get swallowed down the drain. As soon as he was free from the confines of the nightshirt, Octavius’s senses felt as though they’d been enhanced tenfold, causing things to blur and warp at the edges and a distinctly sweet flavor lingered on his tongue.
“Belladonna.” He confirmed aloud as he pulled himself up to sit on the edge of the tub as another wave of nausea threatened to overcome him. “Definitely belladonna . . .”
The flavor danced on the edges of distant memories and the room threatened to shift to a forgotten time and place. The hallucinogen of the berry was kicking in, already turning his mind in on itself. Octavius shook his head, not wanting to recall anything of his past, neither before or after his transformation, but he’d consumed too much and was too weak to push through it.
The last time he experienced this was during an experiment in the laboratory to see how impervious vampires truly were to different poisons. Nothing was as lethal as holy water, and while they were impervious to poison, there were the aftereffects as their bodies rejected the poison. However, the original genetic makeup of their species played a part in how their bodies would react to the poisons. While he wouldn’t die from consuming a goat full of belladonna, it was enough to make him sick and cause slight hallucinations.
He locked his gaze on a single spot on the wall, trying to fight through the way his mind was already bending and warping his surroundings, but in two slow blinks he was exported from the extravagant bathroom and thrust in an unfamiliar underground cave with purple torchlights blazing brightly.
“Well, well, well, if it isn’t little Ristel. . .”
The cold mocking voice of a female drow echoed loudly in his mind. She appeared in a blurring cloud, her arms crossed, her stone-gray head held high, a sneer on her face, and a triumphant look in her eyes as she looked down her sharp long nose at him. Her silvery white hair was braided in the tightest bun, just as rigid and beautiful as she was, and filled him with a different sense of rage he’d not felt before his turning. He couldn’t recall who she was, but the repulsion he felt was enough to know she was part of the past he’d much rather never remember.
“My how the House of Glannath has fallen.” The female hallucination tutted and leaned forward; her magenta eyes practically glowing and ready to devour him. “To think you’re still just as bad as handling poisons as a vampire as you were a noble drow.”
He forced his eyes shut and refused to engage. He knew it was a hallucination, but it felt more real than he desired. The very visage of her unnerved him and threatened to dig up things he didn’t want to recall. Ristel of the House of Glannath was a part of him, he knew and felt it deep in the recesses of his soul, but he as Octavius didn’t recognize it, nor did he want to. He pressed his hands to his head in vain, as if he had the physical strength to keep the better forgotten memories from resurfacing. However, the harder he tried to shut her out of his mind, the more his mind tried to recall who she was and why he despised her.
“This isn’t real . . .” He spoke aloud, not wanting to fall victim to the hallucinations and force himself to a clearer mind.
“You pathetic male.” She grabbed him by the hair, snatching his head back to force him to face her. The beast bared its teeth ready to fight back all the while she looked down at him with a maddeningly obsessive look. “I am very much real, even if you’ve forgotten me, Ristel.”
“Do not call me that.” He shook his head, freeing his head from her grasp and squeezed his eyes shut, refusing to acknowledge the female drow that filled him with a sense of fear he never wanted to feel again. “You’re not real. Begone Faeka!”
A cruel mocking laugh echoed on the fringes of his mind as he blurted her name and as his eyes snapped open. He had returned to the bathroom and the apparition of Faeka disappeared. Panting heavily, he slid back into the tub, trying to make himself as small as possible, trying to shut out all the light and things that could toy with his mind when a knock came at the door.
“Octavius?” A dovelike voice called out through the oak door. “Are you in there?”
Octavius wanted nothing more than to tear that old woman to shreds. He wanted to sink his teeth into the old woman and drink her dry for what she’d done. She had no right to attack Arabella in such a manner, but he wasn’t sure who he was angrier at, the old woman for attacking Arabella, or Arabella for simply taking the attack. From the moment they stepped into this dreadful abode she was anxious, he could smell it in the air, and yet she willingly took the attack and even got in the way of another to shield him.
He had no idea what to make of his new master, he wanted to demand some sort of answer about what had just transpired, but something about his Arabella’s aura softly pleaded with him to follow her. She pulled him down the winding halls of the second floor, he tried to hum into her mind to understand what she was thinking, feeling, but she managed to block her mind from him. It was a most peculiar thing. Earlier this evening he was able to peer into her mind from the confines of his cage, and now he couldn’t so much as penetrate her mind. She possessed magic, but not necessarily the ability to control it. Instead of pushing his way further into the tight threshold of her mind, he chose to follow her through the dark and dampened parts of the house.
All the paintings, furniture, expensive knickknacks, and railings of this wing of the house had a thick layer of dust coating everything. Hardly something the old woman of her station would allow if she got so disgruntled over eight hundred dollars. Either the aunt’s servants were slacking in their duties, or this portion of the house wasn’t regularly maintained which didn’t make sense for a woman so wealthy.
They were at the farthest reaches of the house when Arabella pulled him into a small bedroom. The room looked as though it hadn’t been touched in over a decade. The room was quaint and filled with the barest of necessities, a wardrobe, a changing screen rested just behind the open door, a four-poster bed with blue ruffles that sat right of a large, cushioned bay window. Possessions of a girl leaving her teens for adulthood were found in forgotten porcelain dolls atop shelves, small diaries at the writing desk just inside the door, and a half-finished embroidery project that was left forgotten atop a basket. He could smell a hint of cleaner in the air and could tell this room was very recently cleaned in preparation for Arabella’s arrival.
As soon as his eyes landed on Arabella, she was as still as a statue, her rigid back and clenched fists trembled slightly at her sides.
“I’m terribly sorry you had to witness that.” She muttered quietly as if she were still trying to compose herself, either from embarrassment or anger he couldn’t quite tell. His brows drew tightly together in confusion as he now stood before her.
“What need have you to apologize?”
“For my aunt’s behavior.” She looked at him with tears threatening to fall from her blue eyes, her cheek was still red and swollen. “It was positively disgraceful. You shouldn’t have been exposed to so soon after getting you out of that deplorable place.”
Octavius could only stare at her, she was both naïve and sincere to apologize to him for that. Had she known the horrors he’d endured in his capture with the Orion Hunter’s she wouldn’t see the need to apologize for something as small as a slap to the face. The act itself was petulant and done out of anger, but hardly something worth apologizing over, especially since she wasn’t the one that needed to apologize. As she faced him, he couldn’t help but stare at the angry red handprint on her left cheek. The sight of it bothered him, though he could hardly fathom why. It would heal in just a few short hours and yet bothered him greatly.
Instinctually his curiosity took over, and he raised his hand to gingerly cares her face. She flinched at the initial contact but quickly relaxed as his thumb absently swiped the redden area. He couldn’t help but frown and felt a strange urge to want to take that pain away from her. Red didn’t suit her in this manner.
“You’ve no reason to apologize, especially when it was undeserved.” he removed his hand from her face and let it fall to his side, “If anything, I should apologize for escalating things. . .”
“No, I anticipated that sort of reaction from her, I simply wasn’t fast enough to dodge it.” Arabella admitted almost embarrassedly and rubbed her cheek.
“She hits you regularly?” He frowned as he looked at her head to toe. Arabella was thin and frail, it was a miracle she didn’t blow away in the wind. There was no way she could endure such actions regularly.
“She hasn’t hit me since I stopped living here, but she often lashes out when she’s displeased . . .” she grimaced as a far away look came to her eyes, as if she were recalling a memory, and her hand slid up to pinch her elbow. “I still can’t believe she wanted a hunter to travel with us. A hunter, of all things into the protected rounds of Ottilie. What was she thinking?”
“She doesn’t appear capable to think rationally.” He scoffed with a frown, and the beast within him growled. Arabella had once lived here and had been beaten regularly. “It will be difficult to tolerate her if that is how she continues to behave like this.”
“You mustn’t be baited by her.” Arabella sighed, her whole body visibly sagging with exhaustion as she crossed the room to sit on the bed. “She will find it as a source of entertainment and goad you at every chance she gets.”
A growl rumbled low in his chest, “It sounds as though she’s never been properly put in her place.”
“You would be correct. She’s lived a long hard life as a widow and is stuck in the ways of her time,” Arabella offered as a weak explanation, but it was hardly reason enough to justify the woman’s actions. “I only ask that, if only for my sake, you try to get along with her, otherwise it will be the longest twenty days.”
Octavius’s nose wrinkled in displeasure at the idea of being trapped in close proximity with the old woman for twenty days. It was going to be a true test of willpower.
“That’s enough about my aunt.” She threw on a quick but exhausted smile. “Why don’t you go ahead and take a bath?”
He raised a long silver brow high at her. “Whatever for?”
“I thought you would perhaps like to rid yourself of the terrible incense of that place and . . .” Her nose crinkled slightly as she still tried to remain polite, “it is clinging to you in a way that’s not pleasant.”
He’d was so used to the stench that he wasn’t aware that it was clinging to him. Of course, he wanted to be rid of the stench that clung to him, but it was odd that she was so readily offering such a service to him. Octavius didn’t know what to make of that.
Arabella’s face suddenly turned red as she continued speaking, “I know I always find a bath relaxing after a long day. I don’t mind assisting you.”
“Assisting me?” he cocked a curious brow at her. “Isn’t that a little bold for two people who’ve just met?”
“T -That’s not what I meant!” Her pale face instantly burned red and she began to stammer, “a – and I’m not sure if you’re familiar with the products!”
She was easily flustered and it greatly amused him to the point he couldn’t hide a growing smile. Before he could make any sort of remark, Arabella abruptly grabbed him by the shoulders and pushed him towards the bathroom. “Just get in the tub!”
With a final shove she promptly shut the door behind him. He waited until he heard her shuffle away before letting the clothes fall into a heap on the floor at his feet. A small cloud of dust puffed up at his feet and realized he truly needed to cleanse himself. Looking around the bathroom, he noticed that for a house of such grandeur, this room too had the barest necessities – a vanity, sink, chamber pot, and clawfoot tub with its own faucet.
The mirror above the sink made him pause. For the first time since his turning, he looked from his hands to the mirror and was unpleasantly surprised at the lack of his reflection. The backwall and door were visible in the mirror, but he was not. It shouldn’t have surprised him, and better yet it shouldn’t have disappointed him in the way that it did. Anyone with the basic knowledge of vampires knew they couldn’t see their reflection; there was something in the silver that prevented it, but the disgusting feeling that he was so worthless that he didn’t deserve to exist crept in the back of his mind.
Quickly tearing his gaze from the empty reflection, he stepped towards the tub, turned the handle, and watched as the water gushed into the tub. The sound of it wasn’t enough to drown out the feeling of worthlessness in his mind, nor was the lack of reflection in the water aiding his own self-loathing. Choosing to ignore the dark feelings creeping up in his mind, he stepped into the tub and sank all the way to the bottom as the water filled up around him.
It had been ages since he had a bath and could see the evidence of it coming off him and leaving a ring of dirt around him. He left the drain open for the first rinse then closed it as he dunked his head under the waterspout and let out a blissful sigh as he resurfaced and ran his fingers through his hair. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a bath that didn’t require a hose and pressure sprayer. The scientists took a hose to his cage monthly to make sure he was clean, but that was frigid water that blasted against his skin, leaving it raw when it dried. He could still hear their cackles as they enjoyed watching him scrape himself off the ground before they dragged him off to the next experiment.
A knock at the door silenced the laughter and made him turn to face the door.
“Octavius,” Arabella’s voice called, “may I come in?”
He waited to see if she would barge into the bathroom, she was after all his master and could do very damn well as she pleased, but she waited patiently outside the door. Leaning his head back against the lip of the tub, he sighed, “Yes.”
She was quiet as she entered. In her hands was a small sponge, a spotted bar of soap, two small bottles of oil, a comb and a brush. Their floral fragrances grew stronger as she pulled a short chair up to the tub and set the items down onto it. She quickly turned to a small linen closet and pulled out a small, medium, and large set of towels.
“What are you doing?” He watched her set the towels upon the chair.
“Arabella.” She corrected as she stood beside the tub. “I told you; I’m going to help you wash your hair.”
She picked up the sponge and bar of soap, dipping them into the water. She worked a good lather in her hands and set the bar of soap on the smallest towel. He pointed to the bar of floral scented soap.
“What is that?”
“Lavender goat milk soap,” she answered and plucked his left arm from the water and set it against the edge of the tub and began to scrub. “It is gentler on the skin. My skin has had bad reactions to other types of soaps, so we have to make this regularly for me. I hope you don’t mind the scent of lavender.”
“Not at all,” he mused as he enjoyed the gentle scraping of the sponge across his skin. From fingertips to under and over his elbows and even his armpits did not go untouched. It felt amazing, but he wasn’t sure if he should enjoy it. He’d never had a female bathe him before, let alone wait on him hand and foot in the manner she was. He was undeserving of such kindness and made his worthlessness much worse.
“However, I’m more than capable of bathing myself.”
“I’ve no doubt.” She huffed as she worked up his arm to his shoulder, moved across the expanse to the other, making sure to scrub good around his neck. It almost made his eyes flutter shut, but he resisted. “However, I’ve no idea where you’ve truly come from, and I need to make sure you don’t have tiny passengers with you. . .”
It was a polite way to say she was checking for fleas, lice, and other forms of pestilence. It all made sense now why she offered to bathe him. Under normal circumstances he’d be offended, however, he liked the way her hands felt against his skin and allowed her to continue without complaint. Through the reflection of the mirror, he watched as she quickly worked down his right arm, then dipped the sponge back into the water for a rinse and quickly lathered it up again.
“If you’ll lean forward,” she murmured as she rinsed the sponge out once more, “I’ll scrub your back.”
He did as she requested and nearly purred at the sensation as she applied a touch more pressure down his spine. Arabella was entirely unhurried in her ministrations, taking the time to go over every part of his skin twice to scrub the years of his confinement away. Despite the rings of dirt sitting around him, she didn’t turn her nose up in disgust and worked carefully and thoroughly with him to make sure not a speck of incense remained on him. He’d never been taken care of so well before and it stirred an unfamiliar feeling in his chest.
She dipped the sponge back into the water and gave it a thorough squeeze before lathering it back up again.
“Go ahead and rise,” she ordered as she rested the soapy sponge on the soap stand within his reach. “I leave you to do the rest of your body.”
Her cheeks fanned a quick shade of pink before she turned around and picked up the oils. He couldn’t help but be amused at her odd sense of modesty when she’d already seen him naked once this evening. He dipped his body up to his neck under the water for a quick rinse and worked the sponge down his torso and legs, making sure to take a fair amount of time in his nether regions, just to remove any doubt from her mind that he was clean.
Arabella waited patiently for him to finish and once he squeezed the sponge free, then turned back to face him. She pulled the chair a little closer and sat down on the lip of it. “Turn my way, please,” she requested as she dipped the washcloth into the water and quickly lathered it with soap. “I need to make sure your face, and ears are clean before I wash your hair.”
He couldn’t fathom why she was doing it but complied to her request and crossed his arms over the lip of the tub. “Such care to detail,” he commented as he leaned forward to rest his chin on them to make reaching his face easier. “If you treat me like this every day, I’ll be quite the spoiled pet.”
“You are not a pet.” She iterated firmly enough to cause a pinch between her brows. She guided his chin to tilt his head to the right so she could wash the left side first. “You are a person with rights. The fact I had to purchase you is the most deplorable thing I’ve ever done, and while I wish I didn’t have to do it . . . I’m at least glad I got you out of there.”
Octavius closed his eyes as she smoothed the towel across his face, making sure to get into each crease, crevasse and follicle she could find before moving to his ears. Despite the soap in his ears, he could feel the guilt and sincerity in her voice with the bond they now shared. She truly wasn’t like other humans he previously had the misfortune of meeting. She was quite different from the angry old woman downstairs. Perhaps there was some truth to the old hobgoblin’s words.
“With you as a master,” he murmured mostly to himself, “I wouldn’t mind being a pet.”
“You don’t mean that.” She frowned with a shake of her head. “I’ve done something unforgiveable and the only way I can make it up to you is making sure you go free once we get to Ottilie.”
“Ottilie . . .”
She’d mentioned this place once before, but he couldn’t quite place why she would want to let him go free there. It wouldn’t matter where she wanted to set him free, as long as the ring of control sat on her finger, he could never be free without killing her.
“Go ahead and rinse,” She rested the washcloth on the lip of the tub and sat back in her chair. “If you can find the plug at the bottom, pull it and add some clean water to do your hair.”
He felt the layer of dirt resting at the bottom of the tub and readily pulled the plug. Arabella waited until the water descended to his waist before adding more water to the tub. He quickly replaced the plug and resumed his position at the head of the tub. The warm water felt most pleasant as it rushed around him and refilled the tub. Once the water reached above his navel, Arabella turned the water off and lathered up her hands with the bar of soap.
“If you’ll just get your hair a little more wet, I’m almost done.”
He easily complied and dipped his head into the water once more and happily found her fingers in his hair, massaging and scrubbing his scalp. He couldn’t keep his eyes open and allowed his eyes to flutter close in contentment. If in this moment she wanted to kill him, he’d die a very happy man. All too soon it was over and suddenly water was poured over his head, rinsing the suds from his hair. His eyes had only just opened when her hands were in his hair again, working a new floral scent into his hair. It was a much more dominating floral scent than he preferred, but he would put up with it so long as she kept massaging his head.
“This is rose oil.” She informed him as she worked from root to tip from his forehead to the nape of his neck. “While the goat’s milk soap is great for the skin, I don’t necessarily like the way it smells in my hair. These flowers come from my mother’s garden.”
She poured water over his hair once more, making sure to thoroughly ring the water from his hair before grabbing the hand towel from the chair to squeeze the remaining moisture from his hair. A new scent, one he was more familiar with but couldn’t place where, wafted in the air as she worked a new oil onto his hair. This one he recalled from centuries ago.
“Almond?” he asked and looked up at her over his hairline.
“Yes.” She hummed and worked the almond oil on his hair. “This is one that my father sends me regularly, or at least he did . . .”
The light in her voice disappeared and a deep sadness stronger than the floral oils tainted the air. His eyes were opening to examine her when a loud knock sounded in the room. She removed her hands from his hair and gathered her things.
“There, that ought to do it.” She rose from the chair, “I better see who that is.”
In a much greater hurry than when she arrived, she left the bathroom with a gentle shut of the door. Though the door was closed he could hear a muffled conversation, a loud thud, and Arabella shuffling back to the bathroom. She knocked before poking her head in the door and waved a white piece of cloth.
“Franklin brought a nightshirt for you.” She quickly stepped into the bathroom and set it beside the towels. She quickly shut the door, and he heard the sound of metal clicking open.
Pulling the plug in the tub, he toweled off and held the large night shirt up. It was simple enough that all he had to do was slide into it and button the long line of buttons. It was strange to have clothes again; it was even stranger to be clean for the first time in ages, but it was nice.
The carriage lurched to a hard stop, waking Arabella far too quickly as her head smacked back against the hard headrest behind her. She groaned in protest and buried her face into the warm pillow she rested on. She just needed a few minutes more to sleep and the humming in her head was most convincing to go back to sleep when it abruptly stopped.
“Arabella, we’re here.”
Arabella’s eyes to flew open as a deep voice spoke above her head. She sat up bolt right, coming face to face with Octavius. An embarrassed heat burned her face as she momentarily forgot who he was before the night’s events quickly flashed back in her mind.
“Are you able to rouse yourself,” there was mild amusement in his voice, “or do I need to carry you?”
“I can manage by myself, thank you.” She gently waved him off and leaned in the opposite direction of Octavius. Her body felt terribly stiff from wearing a weighted gown for too long and rubbed small circles at her temples to relieve the building pressure.
“The footman hasn’t come down yet, Miss Arabella,” Braxa offered kindly and offered her a sympathetic look. “You could sleep for a minute more if you wanted.”
“It’s best that I don’t.” She rubbed the patches beneath her eyes. “Should Aunt Euphemia be awake, she will be most displeased at the hour I’ve arrived.”
“Bah! She’d be displeased at any hour you’d arrive.” Braxa huffed and crossed her arms with a frown. “She’s the one that said to make haste. If she didn’t want you arriving in the early hours of the morning, she should have specified the time!”
While Arabella agreed, it was better to get this over with as quickly as possible. The initial meeting with her aunt was always the worst; the trip would be bearable because she would hide in her room of the travel car for most of the journey.
“This woman sounds dreadful.” Octavius remarked with a hint of amusement in his voice.
“She is positively dreadful; the most dreadful woman I’ve ever had the displeasure of meeting.” Braxa piped with a degree of sass that hinted she wanted to go into detail. “The old bat keeps to herself until she wants something, and then it’s nothing but demands.”
Octavius’s nose scrunched in displeasure, but he remained silent and turned his garnet eyes on Arabella and spoke into her mind. Why even entertain the idea of traveling with such a dreadful woman?
Because I don’t have a choice. Arabella let out a long breath and pushed back the loose strands of her hair out of her face as Braxa continued to grumble. My father has very recently passed, and we must both be present for the will. Not to mention I don’t have the funds to just travel to Ottilie alone let alone with a travel companion. My aunt has both time and money but is too old to travel alone. So . . . here we are.
Octavius gave her a considering look, intrigue dancing in his garnet eyes as he kept his thoughts hidden from her.
Peeking through the curtains, Braxa clicked her tongue. “The footman has roused himself to come greet us.”
Arabella’s stomach twisted with a sense of foreboding as she watched the little man descend the stairs. If the footman was awake, he had most certainly notified her aunt of their arrival. She would certainly be in the most unpleasant mood.
“Are you ready to get out, ma’am?” Octavius asked as his hand rested on the door.
No.
“Yes.” She answered with a not so reassuring nod.
Octavius regarded her for a moment before opening the door and stepping out of the coach first. Arabella followed suit, but after wearing her dinner attire all evening without eating, it suddenly weighed a ton and she lost her balance, tipping too far forward as she exited the carriage. Before her face could formally meet the sidewalk, Octavius’s arm caught her by the waist, anchoring her upright so her feet properly touched the ground. Wrapped in his arm, she was face to face with him and his garnet eyes sparkled with something Arabella couldn’t quite place.
“Are you sure you’re all right, ma’am?”
“I’m fine,” she answered a little breathlessly as she stepped back. “I’ve just had a long night, and it’s finally caught up with me. . .”
Those garnet eyes narrowed in disbelief, but he promptly removed his hands from her and didn’t push the matter further. Much to her surprise he proceeded to go to the back of the coach to retrieve her travel trunk. Braxa shuffled out of the coach, her knees creaking and joints popping as she stretched her limbs out. She looked up at the stars still twinkling in the night sky and murmured, “Tis a fine night.”
Arabella’s eyes turned to the sky and while it was indeed still dark out, it wouldn’t be long before the sun threatened to appear. They needed to hurry and get inside, or else assuming the vampire stories were true, Octavius would burn to a crisp. Turning her eyes to Edevane Estate, a strange sense of foreboding filled her as she looked at the gargantuan structure.
The Queen Anne house stood over three stories high, with angry spiked steeples to keep the birds from sitting on the tops and elegant downturned curved windows and doors that made the house to appear to have the most disapproving face on the whole block. It was closer to a brooding angry castle than a cozy family home that her father had always described, and the aura surrounding the abode was far from welcoming. With how differently her father chose to live, it was almost hard to believe her father once lived here. As her eyes trailed downwards from the house, a short balding man with the same disapproving face as the house suddenly stood before her.
“Miss Arabella Edevane, I presume?” He looked twice as exhausted as Arabella and most displeased to see her as he looked at her head to toe.
“Yes,” Arabella nodded and tried not to be offended by his tone. “Aunt Euphemia sent for me. I only just received her letter this evening and –”
“You came from your dinner party post haste.” He responded snarkily as he looked her head to toe then turned his eyes to Octavius and Braxa, his nose curling in disgust at the pair of them. “What are they doing here?”
“I beg your pardon?” Frowned in confusion.
“The madam doesn’t permit monsters of any kind on the premises.” He spouted rather matter-of-factly. “They will have to leave.”
“My aunt is the one who demanded that I go and retrieve a travel companion.” Anger boiled under the surface as she non too gently snatched her aunt’s letter and handed it off to him. “I did exactly as she stated. My party and I shall not be turned away at her door by your bigotry attitude.”
The footman took the letter and quickly red over the text with a scowl.
“I see, my mistake,” he promptly returned the letter to her, “however, it appears that only one monster was to accompany you, why are there two?”
Arabella had to exhale slowly to keep from losing her temper. Her aunt’s staff reflected the same terrible attitude as their employer.
“Braxa is my personal maid and accompanied me, so I wasn’t alone.” She explained as calmly as she could. “Octavius shall be our travel companion for our trip that we are to make posthaste for this journey.”
“Which is which?” The footman cocked a brow and looked between the two and Arabella’s was offended on their behalf. “Whichever one wasn’t purchased will have to return home. As you very well know the madam will not willingly accept a monster into her own home except under extreme circumstance, she absolutely won’t tolerate two in her home.”
“The old hag,” Braxa grumbled behind her. “I ought to give her a piece of my mind.”
While Arabella wished she could take Braxa with her on this journey to have an ally, she knew it wouldn’t be safe for her and would cause more trouble than necessary. Coming to terms with a terrible decision, she spoke through strained politeness, “If you could manage the fare for the coachman, I’ll make sure Braxa is sent on her way.”
“Very well,” he sighed with a disrespectful roll of his eyes. “As you very well know, the madam will deduct it from you later.”
Audacious little fellow. Annoyance tinted Octavius’s thoughts. Shall I do something about him, master? I shall make sure he has a swift end.
That won’t be necessary. She thought firmly before turning to Braxa who was openly frowning.
“I don’t like this, ma’am,” she harrumphed as she glared at the footman, “I don’t like this one bit.”
“Neither do I, Braxa, but you know how my aunt is.” Arabella sighed and rubbed her temple. “This is the most peaceful resolution, given the circumstances.”
“Please, I can handle her.” Braxa scoffed and pounded her fist into her hand. “A good wallop oughtta straighten her bad behavior out. She’s been in desperate need of it for decades.”
“Braxa.” Arabella’s tone was chiding, but the corners of her mouth threatened to turn into a smile at the comical thought. “I will be fine, I can handle my aunt.”
“I know you can, but I’m more worried about you than anything else.” Braxa relented with a creased brow. “Everything about this trip feels wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong. Your father, your aunt, him – ” She cast a quick suspicious glare at Octavius with a jut of her chin. “Should anything happen to you, ma’am I don’t know what I’d do. . .”
“If I didn’t need to be there for my father’s will, I wouldn’t be going on this journey with her at all.” Arabella took her hands in her own. “I promise I’ll be safe. I have full faith that Octavius will protect me.”
“I’m glad one of us does,” Braxa huffed in disbelief. “I’m more worried that he’ll try to eat you!”
Not unless I’m asked to.
Arabella’s ears burned at the implication of his thoughts. She quickly gave Braxa’s knobby hands a reassuring squeeze. “He won’t.”
“You can’t know that.” Braxa’s mouth rolled into a frown. “You know nothing about this man! He’s a drow, they can’t be trusted!”
“I know enough,” Arabella urged, catching the footman’s impatient tapping foot out of the corner of her eye. “I just need you to trust me.”
“I do ma’am.” Braxa sighed, her shoulders drooping and worry filling her eyes. “You’ll write as soon as you’re able?”
“I’ll write as often as I can.” Arabella smiled as encouragingly as she could manage under the footman’s gaze. “Please go home. The house will be paid up through the summer, and hopefully I’ll have everything taken care of when I come back. I can only hope cousin Leroy will behave while I’m away.”
“Don’t you worry about the house, ma’am.” Braxa’s gnarled hand reached up and held Arabella’s cheek. “The brownies and I will baton down the hatches and keep that awful cousin of your mother’s out of the house as long as we can until you get back.”
The mere idea was enough to make Arabella smile and give her a drop of peace. “Please don’t do anything too reckless.”
“Looks who’s talking.” Braxa quickly threw her arms around Arabella’s neck and gave her the tightest hug. “Be safe, love and come home in one piece.”
“I will.”
Braxa reluctantly pulled herself away and stepped up to Octavius, giving him a final once over. “Now you listen here,” she pointed a long finger at him, “you make sure this girl comes back home in one piece, and don’t let her aunt bully her!”
Octavius silently nodded in acknowledgement. Braxa hesitated, eyes narrowed in suspicion at the drow before climbing back into the coach. Standing side by side they watched the coach drive off before they followed the impatient footman up the steep steps leading to the front door.
The large wooden door closed with a thunk behind them and the foreboding feeling grew tenfold as her Aunt Euphemia stood in her nightdress atop the stairs with a stern expression and her hand tightly holding her cane. Her peppering hair was braided down here back, her sleeping bonnet was in her hand, and her cold black eyes held disapproval in them as she looked down her hooked nose at them. She was as imposing and disapproving as ever.
Someone wasn’t ready to wake up. Octavius chuffed in his mind.
Please, I beg you, try to curry her favor.
Arabella felt Octavius’s confused gaze as she approached the base of the stairs with a wobble to her knee and quickly hid it behind a curtsy and kept her head low in hopes she didn’t offend her.
“Good evening, Aunt Euphemia.” Arabella greeted politely with a nervous laugh, “or should I say morning?”
“A fine time you decided to arrive if you can’t tell the time, especially since you’re still in your dinner dress I see.” Her harsh tone was crisp, clear, and full of malice as she descended the stairs. “What made you think arriving in the middle of the night was the best time to arrive? The least you could do is wait to arrive at a decent hour, or at least after breakfast like a normal civil person.”
Arabella swallowed thickly as she slowly raised her head and placed her hands in front of her like she always had since she was a girl. No one could make her feel like a small child like her aunt.
“Apologies, I only received your letter this evening, Aunt Euphemia,” she explained with a slight wobble in her voice. “I came as quickly as I could –”
“And this is what you spent my good money on?” Her nose wrinkled in disgust as she gestured to Octavius, anger fueling the entire gesture. “A monster? Just what were you thinking?”
I’m beginning to think the hobgoblin might have been right. Octavius thought irritably.
Arabella’s mind went blank, unable to multitask and beg him to cooperate as her aunt grew closer. Her mouth suddenly went dry, and she couldn’t wet it fast enough to provide the proper explanation for Octavius.
“I – I did as you asked.” She stammered out and pulled the letter from her purse once more this evening. “You said to get a travel companion –”
“I wanted an Orion Hunter, not a monster!” She snarled as she snatched the letter from Arabella’s hand, crumpling it and smacking it over Arabella’s head before allowing it to the floor. “You stupid girl! Use your head!”
Her head hurt from the small impact, but it wasn’t anything she wasn’t used to from her aunt. Arabella heard a growl in her mind, but under the seething gaze of her aunt she couldn’t properly pay attention to it.
“B – But the Orion Hunters aren’t allowed in Ottilie.” She swallowed thickly, knowing her argument of truth would fall on deaf ears. “By the law they’re only allowed to go as far as –”
“Do you think I care how far they’re allowed to go?” Her aunt barked, her hand curling tighter on the handle of her cane. “They will go as far as they’re paid to go regardless of what the law dictates.”
“Except that they enforce it out there.” Arabella frowned, “and it would have been a waste of your money to have an Orion Hunter be unable to travel the full extent of your trip.”
That one word, money, her only sense of reason made forced her aunt to listen and back away.
“Very well, I can see you did use some of that brain I paid to get an education for.” With a scowl deeply imprinted on her face, Aunt Euphemia turned to look at Octavius. “What is it?”
“He,” Arabella corrected quickly, “is a drow turned vampire.”
“Vampire?” Her aunt cocked a brow in suspicion.
“The shopkeeper assured me he was the best in the store,” Arabella lied quickly, “and I thought he was also the perfect size to fit into your travel car without inconveniencing you.”
Aunt Euphemia scoffed, hardly impressed as she examined him. She made sure to stand a step higher, so she was a head taller to look down her nose at him.
“He has a pretty face, I’ll give you that, but he’s far too thin. Not enough muscle to properly protect us.” She noted sourly and turned those cold eyes on her once more. “How can he protect us from bandits and ruffians on the way?”
“I can certainly handle men thrice my size.”
Octavius answered calmly, but in the same condescending sour tone, and completely drawing her aunt’s attention to him. Arabella’s heart sank and a cool bead of sweat trickled down her back.
“Speaking without permission.” Aunt Euphemia clicked her tongue disapprovingly. “Insubordination is hardly something I would redeem as a trait for the ‘best’. If I wanted an attitude to tag along this trip, I would have permitted that annoying hobgoblin to come along.”
Octavius looked ready to hurl some sort of insult and Arabella very quickly stepped between them, carefully making sure Octavius was behind her.
“I assure you, Aunt Euphemia,” Arabella spoke quickly, “Octavius is more than qualified to protect us on our journey. A – As a drow, he’s quite skilled and has already proven his strength –”
“But he is a vampire.” Aunt Euphemia noted with a tick in her brow. “What’s preventing him from killing us in our sleep? And how will he be of use to us in the daylight?”
“Per the contract I signed upon the purchase, a-and I have a ring to control him.” Arabella showed the pyramid ring on her hand, “he will not harm us as long as I wear it.”
Correction, master, I won’t harm you, Octavius murmured in her mind. This woman is testing my limits. . .
I beg that you resist, Arabella pleaded in her mind, straining to de-escalate her aunt. Please.
Octavius huffed in defiance but conceded to her wishes while her Aunt Euphemia looked disapprovingly at the ring.
“That’s a magic ring to control him?” she scoffed in disbelief, her nose turning up in dissatisfaction. “It’s hideous and looks like a man’s ring. That hardly seems effective.”
“The shopkeeper assured me –”
“Very well, pretend I believe you,” she cut her off and tilted her head to spit quick questions. “What of the sun? How is he to travel with us in the daylight? What are his limitations? There is just as many dangers in the day as there are at night. Did you think to ask any of this?”
Am I supposed to answer? Octavius asked in her mind.
No. Arabella responded quickly and tried not to panic. Can you?
Technically. He mused hesitantly, Though, it would depend on the garments I wear, and the form that I’m in, otherwise I will burn to a crisp.
“If he has the proper protective clothing, yes.” Arabella answered quickly. She didn’t mention the form because she wasn’t entirely sure what he meant by that, and she needed a proper explanation when they weren’t under scrutiny.
“Is he not wearing that now?” Aunt Euphemia gestured to the baggy clothes.
No. Octavius quickly confirmed.
“No.” Arabella grimaced and suddenly felt very foolish about not asking about it before they left the shop. “I – It was going to be an upcharge.”
“Of course, it was.” Aunt Euphemia rolled her eyes in annoyance but seemed mostly appeased by the information provided. “And I take it that I need to procure the proper clothing for him?” Arabella didn’t have the chance to respond before her aunt heaved an angry sigh. “Very well, I suppose that can’t be entirely avoided, but it will have to wait until we’re in Abernathy Springs. We won’t have time tomorrow, though I suppose it is today, to have the tailor prepare anything on such short notice.”
Arabella could have sighed in relief by how easily that had ended and wanted nothing more than to escape to her room when her aunt suddenly narrowed her eyes at her.
“How much did you spend on it?”
The relief dissipated instantly, and Arabella’s tongue wanted to shrivel up and disappear. No matter how much she spent on him her aunt would never approve, but the amount was practically astronomical. Swallowing she braced herself. “E – Eight.”
“Eight what?” her aunt frowned, suspicion quickly seeping into her tone.
“E – Eight hundred.”
Slap!
The hot sting of her aunt’s hand came hard against her cheek and was much faster than Arabella could dodge. There was enough force behind it to throw her to the ground. She was certain she was going to hit her head, but Octavius surprised her by catching her. Surprise painted Octavius’s face, but she didn’t have time to explain and quickly scrambled out of Octavius’s arms and get to her own two feet.
“Eight hundred?” Aunt Euphemia started to fume in a cold fury. “You spent eight hundred on that? You stupid, imbecilic girl!”
Aunt Euphemia raised her cane to swing, and Arabella turned away, closing her eyes in preparation for the pain, but heard a ferocious growl and a horrified grunt. Opening her eyes, Octavius’s eyes were blazing, his mouth pulled back in a snarl and his hand preventing the cane from swinging downwards.
“That is quite enough.”
His voice was so deep and low it bordered demonic as he quickly overtook her aunt and hurled the cane away from her hand. It split in half the moment it hit the floor and Arabella’s heart nearly stopped. Shocked that someone had intervened, her aunt’s anger quickly turned to Octavius.
“How dare you!” She raised her hand to slap him, but he easily caught it and held it in a firm grasp. Not want to break or bend her arm, but just enough to restrain her as Arabella struggled to her feet.
“How dare you raise your hand against my master for merely answering your questions!” He hissed; anger radiated off him in waves that was enough to make Arabella tremble.
“She is not your master, I am!” Aunt Euphemia barked defiantly, not realizing the actual danger she was in. “I paid for you, therefor I own you! Now, I command that you release me!”
“No, my master is the one who wears the ring and paid in blood not money.” He chuckled darkly with a murderous glint in his eye. “Money has no power over me like it does you pathetic humans.”
Her aunt’s face stamped to Arabella, anger, hurt, and betrayal painted every wrinkle in her expression as her temper grew. Aunt Euphemia’s own furious temper was nearly enough to combat Octavius, but he clearly had the upper hand with supernatural powers and vampiric strength. No matter how hard she tugged and struggled to break free of his grasp, she could not free herself from his grasp.
“Release me!”
“I do not take orders from you.” He chuckled mockingly, adding a little pressure in his grasp on her wrist, enough to make her cry out.
“Arabella, you ungrateful girl!” She cried out her demands. “Make this beast release me!”
Octavius’s voice shifted to something as dark as pitch as he chuckled and leaned his face towards her aunt. “No such demands will be met without proper manners.”
For the first time in her life, Aunt Euphemia’s eyes were wide with fear as she finally realized the danger she was in. Her mouth moved, but no words were uttered as she was unable to look away from Octavius’s expression. Whether Octavius was serious in harming her or not, Arabella was not one for violence, even against her own aunt. With a brave step forward, Arabella touched Octavius’s shoulder with her hand and felt the anger broiling beneath the surface. He seemed to relax under her touch, if marginally, and turned his head to look at her.
“Octavius, please,” she spoke gently, not wanting it to come out as a command and to avoid further harm to come to anyone else tonight. “Release her.”
Anger and defiance danced in his garnet eyes, as if he were testing her resolve, but Arabella would not command him unless it was absolutely necessary. She wanted to give him the chance to do the right thing. There was a shift in his eyes and to her relief he released Aunt Euphemia’s hand.
“As you wish . . .”
He was far from pleased, but he did as she asked. The elderly woman collapsed in a heap at the foot of the stairs and looked up in horror at Octavius. Not wanting her aunt to remain on the floor, Arabella offered her hand to assist her to her feet. However, her aunt’s face hardened, and she swatted her hand to push herself up on her own.
“Get out of my sight.” She spat and glared between the two of them. “And take him with you!”
Arabella nodded, feeling most apologetic, and pulled Octavius by the arm up the stairs.
“Follow me.”
“Good for nothing girl,” her aunt huffed loudly, not even bothering to hide her distain. “Just like my stupid little brother.”
Arabella felt the trembles of his anger vibrating through him as she pulled him along, but she couldn’t look back at him to reassure him to ignore her aunt. Hot tears burned the backs of her eyes as her cheek stung with each pulse of her heart, but she didn’t dare let them fall until they reached the safety of her old room.
The shopkeeper gargled on spittle as he gasped for breath, clawing futilely against Octavius’s hold. He turned to Arabella, bloodshot eyes pleading for help.
“Make . . . him . . . stop!”
Under normal circumstance Arabella would have tried to mollify the situation, but between her bleeding hand and the sight of the entirely naked man before her, she was momentarily distracted. From the nape of his neck to his Achille’s heel was a wall of scars embedded into the lithe muscles. His back was practically a cutting board with the many scars that spanned his body and she could hardly comprehend how he had any flesh on his back.
“Good gods, what happened to you?” she murmured, her hand reaching out to touch the scars, but refraining. While they were healed and sealed, she couldn’t help but wonder if they still hurt.
“I can regale you with a tale later, ma’am,” Octavius huffed as he spared a glance over his shoulder. “I think it best you tell me what you wish to have done to this slimy sodden piece of shit that overcharged you.”
“I – I did no such thing!” the shopkeeper argued futilely as he still clawed at Octavius’s hand. “After all the trouble you’ve caused –”
“Ah, ah, ah,” Octavius practically growled with a murderous glint in his eye. “It’s not good to speak ill of the dead and the foolish.”
For the briefest of moments Arabella felt true genuine fear as she stared at the man she’d freed and wondered if there was some sort of truth to the shopkeeper’s warning about killing his owners, but realized it was far too late to go back on her decision now. She’d already had him released and she doubted he’d go so willingly in his cage again, not that would have allowed that to happen.
“Oi,” the shopkeeper caught his breath and looked at her in desperation. “There’s still time to change your mind and swap him out for one of the orcs. I’ll even give you a lower price! Two hundred, right now, if you do!”
As tempting as the offer was, her pricked finger still tingled from the initial prick that she did not want to go through a second time, not to mention she truly didn’t have the time. She’d had enough manhandling for one evening and just wanted a nice warm bath and bed. She was certain the drow before her might like one as well.
“That won’t be necessary.” She shook of her head, “a pair of clothes will make up for the overcharge, and I promise I won’t let him kill you.”
“You wouldn’t have the bollocks for that ma’am.” The shopkeeper snorted with an amused grin.
“I very well could.” Seriousness slipped into her tone, the undercurrent of her agitation ready to stand to attention and show a man what it’s liked to be manhandled. “After all, I’m the one with a powerful vampire now, aren’t I?”
It would be my pleasure to rid this filth from this world. Octavius growled in his mind. You only need to make the thought known and I will make it so, master.
Regardless of whatever revenge Octavius may have wanted to take, she didn’t want there to be a blood trail leading to her and Aunt Euphemia. She was in enough trouble with tonight’s events with Governor Knox, Arabella really didn’t want any more trouble, especially when she signed the contract. The last thing she needed was the Orion Hunters to chase after them before they even had a chance to leave the city. Time was of the essence and they needed to leave, quickly.
I don’t have time for you to make a big scene. She sighed, giving a slight shake of her head. If you could just incapacitate him and tell me where some clothes are, we can leave immediately.
Octavius was still and quiet for what felt like a long time before he flung the shopkeeper to the ground and stomped on his head. The man didn’t move again and for a brief moment Arabella feared he’d killed the man until she saw his chest rise and fall. She’d only sagged in relief when Octavius’s deep voice spoke aloud, “In that corner at the end of the register, there’s clothing.”
For a brief moment she stood stunned only able to stare at him in shock when he glanced over his shoulder and added, “Unless you’d like the more salacious items at the front –”
“At the end of the register you said?”
She briskly cut him off and scurried away to the corner. In a dusty cedar chest, she found a variety of stained clothing that reeked of the incense that burned her nose. Arabella had to dig all the way to the bottom of the chest to find something that wasn’t entirely stained. A wrinkled white collared shirt, black trousers, and a pair of men’s underwear were all that she managed to find in what she assumed to be his size. She hoped it would suffice until she could afford to get him something nicer.
She was oddly relieved to have found everything he needed until Octavius turned to face her with his entire front on display. His chest all the way down to his thighs were also littered with scars and she felt another piece of her heart crack for the pain he must have felt. However, as she was still kneeling by the cedar chest it meant she was at eye level with his entirely exposed virile member. While he seemed completely unbothered, Arabella’s face burned with embarrassment, and she quickly averted her eyes. He’d been gawked and stared at long enough that she owed him some sense of decency to feel normal.
She scrambled to her feet and held the clothes out to him, promptly keeping her eyes on his face and refusing to allow them to dip lower despite her nagging curiosity.
“Will these do?”
He gave an approving nod as he took the clothes from her and immediately started to dress. Turning around to offer some sense of privacy, he dressed in a flash.
“I’m covered.”
Turning around, Arabella saw the clothes sitting particularly baggy on his hunger-pained frame. She determined would make sure he was properly fed, somehow, and that he had proper clothing once they got to her aunt’s house. He would need the basics before they set out on their journey, to which she had no doubt her aunt would have a conniption about, and more importantly he needed a bath. There was no telling what sort of dirt he harbored under his nails after being staked for so long, and a good bath could make anyone feel brand new.
“Do you have any belongings you need to bring with you?” she asked as she peered around him into his cage that the shopkeeper now slept in.
His brows just furrowed and he gave her an odd look, as if she’d said something utterly stupid before shaking his head.
Right, he’s been trapped here for so long he mustn’t have anything. . . she thought to herself, feeling utterly stupid and guilty for saying something so thoughtless. With all those scars there’s no telling what he’s lost. . .
“I appreciate your concern, master,” his deep voice quickly broke her from her thoughts, “but not everything was taken from me. While my body has been changed, my mind and my powers are very much my own.”
She blushed as she realized he had heard her thoughts but was glad he provided an answer.
“Very well then, shall we be off?”
“After you, master.” He gave a half bow and gestured for her to move, but she froze instantly.
“Don’t call me that.” She pleaded and felt a great discomfort in her soul. He should’ve been a walking free man a long time ago before she came here. “I may have purchased you, but I do not intend to be your master or treat you as such.”
“I have no intentions of doing such a thing.” She said with determination and a frown on her face. “Nor do I have any intentions of commanding you to do anything outside your will.”
Octavius cocked a curious brow at her, staring long and hard as if he couldn’t believe her words. His disbelief stung but given how long he’d been trapped here she could hardly blame him. There was no telling what others may have promised him only to deny it in the end. His garnet eyes narrowed onto the ring on her finger then back to her face.
“As long as you have that ring of control, you are my master.”
The ring burned hot on her finger, as if it were embedding it into her skin so that she would forever have to bear this mark. It held the weight of everything she’d fought against and made her just as terrible as the people who still readily enslaved humans as pets.
“You could command me to kill that filthy human and get your money back,” Octavius continued darkly, “and I would do it because that ring compels me to do so, willingly or otherwise.”
She noted the animosity in his tone as he used the word ‘human’ and felt his inner rage through his mind. While he held the tightest control with his expressions, there was an angry beast prowling within him.
“I know you have no reason to believe me,” she sighed in defeat, “but I truly have no intention of keeping you. The moment we get to Ottilie you are free, you have long since deserved that and it is the only thing I can do to make up for this.”
Octavius’s brows furrowed in confusion, and he frowned deeply as he stepped towards her. He towered over her standing tall and proud with a noble look of arrogance that made her wonder what was going through his head. He had walls up, externally and internally, that she wouldn’t be able to reach into his mind unless he allowed her to do so. She was certain he was going go lash out at her or continue to stare at her when he asked, “If I’m not to call you master, what am I to call you?”
The question had caught her completely off guard that she could only blink before letting out a nervous laugh.
“Arabella,” she answered with a small smile and holding out her hand to him. “Please, call me Arabella.”
He stared at her hand long and hard to the point she was about to let it fall to her side when he surprised her by grasping it with cool fingers and pressing her pricked finger to his lips.
“What are you –”
She thought he was kissing it when she felt the lapping of his tongue and realized he was drinking her blood. His lips were chapped and cold, and she felt his tongue practically coil around the tip of her finger. She felt heat in her face and her heart race as he looked at her, his garnet eyes sparkling with something she couldn’t quite place.
“Thank you, Arabella.” He crooned like a happy wolf, “I look forward to being under your care.”
A strange twist of arousal, flattery, and embarrassment rose within her and she gently plucked her hand away from him.
“Don’t thank me yet,” she warned with a grimace, “my wealthy aunt is technically the one who purchased you.”
“But you are the one who signed the contract.” He pointed the ring at her finger. “Regardless of who pays, whoever signs the contract in blood and wears that ring is my owner.”
The weight of her guilt hit her tenfold and she fought the tears burning in her eyes. She quickly dragged her hand down her face and heaved a heavy sigh.
Gods above, I don’t like any of this . . .
Arabella grabbed Octavius’s arm and quickly ushered them out of the shop. The night air instantly purged the reeking incense from her nostrils, though she could feel it clinging to her skin. Octavius allowed her to pull him the whole way to the waiting coach. The coachman who watched them most curiously as they approached.
“Got yourself a new pet, ma’am?” he blew a long whistle. “That’s an expensive one, I can tell.”
She cast a glare at him and snatched open the coach door. She knew better than to waste her breath trying to explain herself, especially to the likes of him when he had such a mischievous expression.
“We’re ready to depart for Luneburg,” she declared angrily, “The Edevane estate, if you will.”
“As you say ma’am.” He chortled as he faced forward, not sounding the least bit concerned about what he’d just witnessed. “As soon as you load up, we be off.”
Huffing through her nose, Arabella went to climb into the coach when Octavius held his hand out to her to assist her into the coach. The chill of the night clung to her as she placed her foot on the small step and climbed inside. Octavius barely had a chance to sit down when the coach took off at the crack of the reins. He practically landed on Arabella’s lap, his head in her lap and arms around her waist. A very much awake Braxa cleared her throat most prudishly and Octavius reluctantly pulled himself out of her lap and into a sitting position.
“I doze off for one second and you come back with a drow, ma’am.” The hobgoblin frowned and crossed her arms tightly over her chest. “Really ma’am? Just what were you thinking getting a drow? Don’t you know they’re highly untrustworthy!”
“Braxa, I didn’t have time to properly investigate Octavius’s character and background.” Arabella rubbed small circles into her temples as the stress of the day weighed heavily on her. “The shopkeeper was most unsettling, and I really, really don’t have the energy to defend myself further.”
“I can handle the hobgoblin, master,” Octavius offered teasingly, earning a glare and hiss from Braxa.
“Touch me drow, and I’ll make that pretty face less so.”
“Braxa,” Arabella cast her a warning look before frowning at Octavius. “Octavius, please don’t rowel her up.”
“Ma’am.” Braxa huffed, shaking her head in disapproval, “surely there’s some place else to look for a travel companion.”
“You know how Aunt Euphemia is, Braxa,” she leaned back against the hard seat, “This was such a time sensitive matter that there is no time. . .”
Arabella moaned in frustration and buried her face in her hands, rubbing the heels of her hands into her eyes.
I’m much more trustworthy than you think. Octavius muttered rather defensively in his thoughts to Arabella. Should we keep it a secret that I’m a vampire? Or do you think the hobgoblin has already picked up on that?
I beg of you, please don’t test her. She thought back with a warning look between her fingers. I’ve had a long day and I very much need to sleep before dealing with my aunt. . .
While Braxa would be entirely offended, she and her aunt shared similar tastes. If Braxa already didn’t like Octavius, Arabella wasn’t holding out much hopes that her Aunt Euphemia was going to like him either, regardless of his pretty face. Then again, there was very little that her Aunt Euphemia liked in this world apart from being a wealthy widow.
Does that mean you trust me? Octavius thought curiously, his garnet eyes seeking the very depths of her soul for an answer.
That’s yet to be seen. She sighed outwardly and dropped her head back against the seat cushion.
“You should rest ma’am,” Braxa murmured with concern. “There’s a good bit of a ride ahead and the carriage’s rocking should put you right to sleep.”
Arabella couldn’t even deem herself to smile or acknowledge the hobgoblin’s words as the exhaustion seeped into her bones. She doubted she’d have a fitful rest if the ride was as precariously bumpy and full of dips to Luneburg as it was to Vandale. Wanting this night to simply end, she allowed the exhaustion to take over and prayed to the gods they would get to Luneberg before the sun rose.
His new master was a most curious thing.
Octavius had never met a human who spoke so informally or with such care with another that wasn’t human. There was no air of superiority, degradation, or even the hint of hostility about her like his previous two male masters had, and there was only a strange sense of sympathy and compassion about her. It was entirely unnerving for him. Had she acted snobbish or even that she wanted to treat him like an exotic pet like all the others he would be ready to bite her throat and steal her life away, but he had no idea how to react to her kindness.
No woman, drow or human, had treated him with such kindness before. Even the hobgoblin treated him with some reproach simply because he was a drow and his people were notorious for being untrustworthy. His master, however, glossed over it as if it were a minor detail that was inconsequential to her. He couldn’t tell if she truly trusted him so blindly or if she truly were that naïve; he believed it was the latter, especially since she claimed she would release him once they made it to this place called Ottilie. However, no matter how trusting she was, Octavius wasn’t so trusting, especially of a human and after everything he’s gone through.
As if sensing his thoughts, the hobgoblin growled as she pointed a long bony finger at him. “Now you listen here, don’t you dare go causing any trouble for Miss Arabella. She had to go against her morals to get you to appease her dreadful aunt. This will eat her alive for the entirety of the trip to Ottilie.”
Octavius spared the hobgoblin an uninterested glance before looking over his master. Arabella, the name was as beautiful and pleasing as she was, and he could only hope she was as reverent as her namesake. Should this air of innocence be merely an act, he would have no qualms devouring her.
“I don’t know what you’re thinking, but I don’t like that look on your face.” The hobgoblin’s green eyes narrowed as she crossed her arms. “Whatever thoughts you have about humans does not apply to Miss Arabella, you hear?”
The familiarity in which the hobgoblin spoke of his master intrigued him, even if minutely, and he allowed his curiosity to seek answers. “Is she not your master?”
“Certainly not!” She huffed as if it were obvious and stuck her nose in the air. “I’m a free hobgoblin which I earned myself. Miss Arabella is my employer and pays me to clean and manage the house. Even then, she would consider us equals among men and fights for the freedom and validation of monsters everywhere.”
It sounded too good to be true. From everything he’d seen nonhumans were still hunted down and sold as pets or into hard labor. The idea that humans were actually fighting for nonhumans’ freedom seemed like some sort of twisted game to lure them all into captivity. Then again, he wasn’t sure how long he’d been locked away for this time. There was no telling what the world was like now; though he doubted it was any better than he remembered it to be.
“High praise from a hobgoblin.” He scoffed and her frown deepened.
“You keep your species-ist opinions to yourself, you hear?” She waggled that long finger in his face. “I don’t know how long you’ve been locked up, but a whole war fought in 1861 for monster’s rights and freedoms as well as a treaty being set in place for those beyond the Veil.”
Octavius allowed the date to settle into his mind as he tried to recall just how long he’d been captured. He had only just graduated from university when he was sold to the Orion, but between the mind-numbing incense on the boats, the carriages, and underground facilities he’d been moved to, time hadn’t really existed for him. He wasn’t entirely sure how long he’d been a vampire either. Time was just an irritating concept for him where he felt many new strange things.
“Arabella wants equality for all and she’s fighting in the only way she can.” The hobgoblin continued to defend the sleeping lady in the most drivel way possible.
“By buying monsters?” he snorted in disbelief, ready to be finished with this conversation. “That hardly seems a way to fight.”
“Listen here you dusty old bag of dirt, just because you have a pretty face doesn’t mean I’m going to allow you to slander Miss Arabella.” Her tone shifted and he could almost sense her magic swirling around them. “She’s helped in all the charities to the cause, helped raised funds for the houses that needed raising, and even went to a dinner this evening with a horrible man who tried to take advantage of her just so she could make sure all nonhuman younglings could attend school. She’s done more than others and would give up her own home if it meant giving nonhumans a better chance at living.”
It was impressive that he could admit, but he was never one to blindly believe the words of others. He would see Arabella’s character for himself and judge her worth then. The hobgoblin’s ears suddenly drooped, and her expression turned gentle as she looked at Arabella.
“She’s got too giving a heart and needs to be protected for all the protecting she’s been doing.” The hobgoblin sighed and her face screwed up into a scowl. “Especially from her aunt. That ungrateful harridan is going to give her hell the entire time. . .”
“If this woman is so terrible,” Octavius countered, “why is she even bothering with her?”
“Because she’s far too soft for her own good.” The hobgoblin huffed and leaned back in her seat and rested her hands over her middle. “She’s got more kindness in the sliver of her nail than most people ever pretend to have, and it makes her an easy target to others.”
Octavius stole another look at his master. She seemed too frail to do these impressive things, and he could agree that she was definitely one that needed to be protected than doing the protecting. Her body swayed with the carriage, just barely staying upright when the carriage dipped into a pothole and threw her body off balance. Gravity pulled her forward and she nearly faceplanted into the hobgoblin’s lap, but he reflexively quickly caught her and leaned her onto his shoulder instead so she could have a proper rest. The crease in her brow fell away as he held her and something strange stirred within him as he took in her elegant features.
“Watch yourself, drow.” The hobgoblin clicked her tongue with a knowing grin. “If you’re not careful, you’ll end up falling for her like the rest of us have.”
He chose not to take the hobgoblins’ words to heart, after all she was a hobgoblin and knew nothing about him. Besides, as long as Arabella wore that ring, everything between them was contractual and he was an indentured servant until he could find a way to escape. If his master was truly as kind as the hobgoblin made her out to be then he would honor her by keeping her alive until she made it to her destination, but the moment she should be just like all the other humans he would kill her. However just the thought of killing her caused the beast within him to growl in protest. He wished he could blame it on the blood contract that bound him, but there was an uncomfortable feeling in the pit of his stomach that forbade him from entertaining the idea.
Arabella’s eyes drooped for but a moment when the coach dipped precariously low in the road and the drop of it woke her up. Across from her, Braxa snored soundly, completely unperturbed by the rocking of the coach. Peeking through the curtains, Arabella could just barely make out the shape of buildings with how dark the area was. Squinting through the darkness, tiny blue flames flicking in street lanterns throughout the town casting an ominous blue glow. Staring at the eerie blue flames, her heart nearly stopped as she realized they weren’t ordinary flames. The flames were holy blue flames meant to flare brightly when magic users or monsters were too close to alert the hunters. She swallowed thickly as she calculated the distance from Vandale to both Luneburg and Fulton; it was far too close for comfort.
She did not like it.
Arabella had often heard of the beauty and rare wonders that could be found in Vandale, but she had also heard that the Orion Hunters hid here as well, auctioning off nonhumans as if the abolition laws had never pertained to them to high society and those who refused to listen to the law. The fact they still resided here meant they had gotten better about concealing their intentions. They were well renowned for their witch hunts, monster hunts, and for aiding on the wrong side of the war, wanting nothing more than to enslave monsters and magic users all over the world.
Arabella would need to be on guard as the blue flames would immediately try to seek her out. While her magic was considerably weaker than others, she still possessed magic. Staring at the eerie blue flames, she felt her magic try to withdraw deep within itself, to hide away from what loomed in the shadows.
She did not like how foreboding this night was as the coach came to a complete stop. She didn’t dare get out immediately in case some hunter lurked nearby and was only prompted to move when the coachman knocked on the wall. All her senses screamed to stay within the safety of the coach; however, she couldn’t risk her aunt’s ire tonight, especially not after the day she had with Governor Knox. A beating from the cane would simply be too much for her tonight.
Gathering her skirts she got out on wobbly legs and held onto the door for balance as she breathed in the night air. Even the air somehow seemed tainted and unpleasant for her to breathe. She needed to hurry with this business and get to the Edevane Estate as quickly as possible. Hand still gripping the door with hesitation, Arabella tried to weigh her options, but there was no telling what sort of trouble awaited them on the train out west. Her magic was weak and wasn’t something she could use defensively, and even if she could her aunt would protest her use of it.
“Hurry up then, I haven’t got all night!” The coachman barked impatiently before he hocked a lumph of phlegm onto the sidewalk.
Arabella pursed her lips, trying to steal her wavering courage, “If you’ll just wait here, I’ll only be a moment.”
While it went against everything she believed in, it would be best if she did her aunt’s bidding and swiftly left this foreboding town.
“Of course, ma’am,” the coachman snorted a little too pridefully, “a frail woman like yourself can’t be left alone in Vandale, it’ll cost you though.”
Of course it would, because why wouldn’t it?
It seems his swiftness in acting as her getaway driver from Governor Knox was only in the money it earned him. Arabella offered a quick polite smile and determined that the man’s greediness was but a small blessing from the gods so that she would have a ride waiting for her once her business had concluded. Grabbing her skirt, she marched forward towards the shop with the large painted sign ‘Pet Shop’.
Each step toward the pet shop made her instincts screaming at her to turn and run, but flashbacks of her aunt’s beatings against her spine kept her on track. Despite the dread telling her to turn back, a strange humming from within the shop eased her worries and summoned her forward with a strange sense of courage. Standing under the shop’s striped covered awning, the holy blue flames danced excitedly, as if they wanted to eat her magic. Ignoring the holy flames that threatened to out her, she grabbed the doorknob and pushed it open.
A sad dusty bell clattered overhead, and the door creaked loudly as she entered the shop. Coiling clouds of boggy green incense nearly choked the air from her lungs and sent her into a small coughing fit. Garlic, rosemary, and something sinister were mottled together to form a strange incense that caused a thick mind-numbing haze that dulled her senses. She wasn’t sure what sort of pet shop needed such a stupefying incense so strong, but it didn’t bode well for her as she waved her hand through the haze.
She’s here. . .
A voice whispered so clearly, she thought someone was beside her. However, as she turned to look, there was only a narrow path of assorted wares on the wall warped and wobbled, but the summoning hum grew louder in her ears now that she was within the shop. Blinking twice, clarity returned to her mind enough for her to distinguish chains, syringes, muzzles, collars, leashes, and strange articles that were meant to be clothing for humanoids and even jars of questionable substances labeled ‘pet food’ lined a path forward so narrow that she was afraid to step forward in her bustle skirt.
Her sleep deprived mind was slow to realize that this wasn’t a standard pet shop to get a cute furry friend for their journey. Aunt Euphemia sent her to collect something much more dangerous that went against Arabella’s morals. Arabella retreated a step back, hoping to leave unnoticed when a large, rotund man cloaked in a hunter’s uniform filled the space of the doorway, blocking her both the light and her path. His eyes were bloodshot and unnaturally blue, and his grin was full of crooked yellow teeth that held more wickedness than welcome as he looked down at her.
“Welcome to the Orion Hunter’s Pet Shop,” his voice was like clotted oil and deception. “How may I help you this fine evening, madam?”
Arabella hesitated as the humming in her mind paused and she debated if she could leave without making a purchase. She did not belong here and should never have stepped foot in such a place; however, the storekeeper’s shifty gaze told her she wasn’t leaving empty-handed, willingly or otherwise. Not wanting to allow him to intimidate her further, she rolled her shoulders back and kept her head held high like the woman of high society she was to regain control of the situation.
“My aunt and I are traveling west, and we need a travel companion for protection.” Her hands clenched together in front of her in frustration of the position her aunt had put her in. “My aunt spoke highly of your establishment and recommended I stop in.”
“Your aunt has excellent taste.” He chuckled in mild amusement and placed a hot greasy palm to the center of her back, pushing her forward. “I’m sure you’ll find just what you’re looking for amongst our finest selection. We’ve actually gotten in some new inventory that you’re seeing before everyone else.”
Past the less than desirable pet accessories towards the backwall was a sight that plunged a dagger through her heart. Behind a barred glass, nonhumans – orcs, tieflings, satyrs, and large werewolves – stood chained to the backwall on display. The shopkeeper prattled off the value of each one as they passed, but Arabella didn’t hear a word of it. She couldn’t take her eyes off their hunger-pained frames, ear tags, and pure hopelessness in their eyes.
How could anyone still do this? What was the war for if humans still caught them and caged them like animals? She thought angrily, her blood boiling in her ears. How could Aunt Euphemia want to make such an inhumane purchase; how can I make such a purchase?
Arabella felt sick. Had she realized where she was to go and what she was to do she wouldn’t have come here and go to Ottilie herself. There was little light in any of their eyes, and she wished she had more money in her purse to purchase them all and take them with her if only to save them from this place. The thought of having to buy their freedom which should have already been earned burned her with anger and guilt like a hot poker. She only wished she could do more, report to someone, but she wasn’t as familiar with who she could trust or who would even listen to her. She would have to settle for this for now until she could find a way to stop such travesty from continuing.
Aunt Euphemia had provided a blank check for her to use, but her aunt would be less than pleased if she purchased more than one to take with them. While she was a wealthy widow, she was a miser who valued her wealth more than bankers.
“Personally, I’d recommend one of the orcs.” The shopkeeper’s voice declared above her, breaking her away from her thoughts. “Full of muscle, and we’ve beaten most of them into obedience where they won’t even think to lay a hand on you.”
Don’t choose an orc; not the best choice. . .
A voice whispered in her mind and Arabella froze as the humming suddenly continued.
“They do look . . . nice.” Arabella pursed her lips, not wanting to sound offensive, not wanting to tarry in this shop any longer. “But I’m afraid I’m looking for a smaller companion to fit into my aunt’s travel car. There won’t be much room with all our luggage.”
The shopkeeper frowned and grunted, “I see, well, we have more in the back.”
In truth, she didn’t know what her aunt wanted, and she only wanted to get out of this horror shop when the humming returned. As the shopkeeper led her deeper into the shop, her blue eyes surveyed the ‘pets’ once more but couldn’t single out which one was humming to her.
Closer. . . Over here. . .
It wasn’t until they were a little closer to the register that she felt the pull of the hum, the demand to look left as the shopkeeper to steer her right when she saw him. There was no light in his cage, allowing his charcoal skin to camouflage with the rest of the dark surroundings, but his moonlit silver hair and wild garnet eyes staring directly at her stood out amongst the dense incense clouds. He was, for lack of a better word, beautiful. So beautiful that he practically took her breath away, or at least he would if it weren’t for the incense trying to choke the magic out of her. Following the summoning hum in the opposite direction of the shopkeeper, she approached his cage. Where was a wildness in his eyes that slowly calmed as she approached, as if he were pleased to see her.
Her eyes slowly trailed down his muzzled face and lithe body and stopped at the stake buried in his chest. She openly frowned, feeling the last straw of her will power to contain her composure. The loud clomping footsteps of the storekeeper had her turn around to face him.
“Why is he like this?” she demanded in indignation on his behalf.
“Because he’s a sneaky drow turned vampire that likes to bite.” The shopkeeper sneered and banged his hand against the cage hard enough to make it rattle through the shop. The wild fury returned to the vampire’s eyes as he glared at the shopkeeper, earning an amused chuckle.
I only bite those that deserve it, a voice whispered in Arabella’s mind, though I would be willing to change that if someone of the daytime asked nicely.
Her cheeks warmed at the implication of his tone but quickly composed her face into one of neutrality as she looked at the shopkeeper. “How much?’
“Pardon?”
“How much for him?”
“He’s not for sale.” He answered stubbornly.
“Oh, I highly doubt that.” She felt her temper growing and crossed her arms.
“He costs more than you have, that’s for sure” the shopkeeper sneered as he looked her head to toe. “Pretty as he is, he’s much more a threat than a pet, if you get what I mean.”
“And if I don’t?” Her tone was much more stubborn than she’d intended, but she’d had just about enough of men making decisions of what they assumed was best for her today; especially when it was the rights of someone else’s life.
“Look, ma’am, he’s already killed two other owners and was brought back,” he said briskly, trying to turn her gaze away from the attractive vampire. “Not to mention he’s a tracker and he’d only be useful for you at night.”
Not necessarily. The vampire’s voice hummed temptingly in her mind. I’ve many secrets they don’t know of. I couldn’t let them find out all of my abilities in their experiments.
Arabella’s heart seized at the idea of experiments and her neutral expression nearly broke. The vampire could very easily say that just to play into her more sympathetic nature, yet for him to be here in this shop, she couldn’t help but believe him. He was clever, that much was clear, but she wasn’t sure if clever was what she needed in the way of protection. Given her limited options, she didn’t exactly have much of a choice nor the time to consider other options, at least not without a guilty conscience.
“Third time’s the charm, right?” she muttered to herself and took a deep breath and set her chin. “He’s the one I want.”
She practically heard a pleased purr in her mind from the vampire.
“Ma’am,” the shopkeeper paled, actually looking nervous as he tried to reason with her. “I assure you; you don’t want him – ”
“It’s either him, or I take my business elsewhere.” She crossed her arms stubbornly, holding her head higher to push the point. “I’m sure this isn’t the only pet shop in town, I’m certain I’ll find better accommodations then.”
The shopkeeper’s frown was deep as though he wanted to argue with her, and either her stubbornness was truly formidable, or he’d had enough annoying customers today because he quickly held his hands up in surrender.
“Fine, have it your way then.”
He grabbed her by the wrist and took her to the counter. Squeezing his body around and into the counterspace behind the register, he put a premade contract, an angry looking silver pen, a standing needle, and a small red ring box on the counter. Suddenly the blank check in her handbag felt far too heavy and her heart raced as she slowly realized this was to be a blood contract. This would bind her as much as it would the vampire to the Orion Hunters in more way than one. They would have her blood and could discover her ability with magic. Her eyes, however, remained on the red ring box.
“What is that?” she pointed but didn’t touch the red box.
“If he doesn’t try to kill you immediately, this is how you’ll control him,” the shopkeeper lifted the lid to reveal a pyramid shaped stone protruding from a claw of control ring. The stone was moissanite stained a reddish brown, presumably with the blood of his previous owners. The magic lingering on the ring held a cursed energy of finding and possessing that caused her own magic to churn away from it.
“And if he does try to kill me?” she quipped back curiously.
“It’s how we’ll locate our body and him.”
The weight of his words caused Arabella to hesitate. While the stake rendered him powerless and immovable now, if he was as tricky as the shopkeeper claimed there was nothing she could do to stop him.
I won’t kill you. His voice sounded so sincere in her mind, but this did little to offer her comfort in her choice.
Why should I believe you? She countered back as her eyes skimmed the text of the contract. She wasn’t retaining any of the terms of the contract, but it at least made her less suspicious that she was having a conversation in her mind with a vampire.
You’ve done nothing to harm me; therefore, I have no need to seek revenge on you. He said pragmatically. And I don’t harm women unless absolutely necessary. . .
It shouldn’t have convinced her, but the humming in her mind turned into a purr and she felt obligated to proceed. Taking a deep breath, she looked up at the shopkeeper.
“How do I sign?”
“First, prick your finger,” he slid the upright standing needle closer to her along with the pure silver pen. “You’ll need eight drops to properly sign.”
“Eight?” she sputtered, already feeling the pain of the sharp needle just be looking at it. Upon closer inspection it didn’t look as though it had been cleaned in a long time and made her worry of catching some sort of disease.
“For him.” He gestured to the vampire. “It takes eight drops of blood to have mastery over Octavius; four drops for the signature and four for the ring.”
“Octavius. . .” she repeated the name absentmindedly and swore she heard a pleased purr in her mind. “And how much will he cost before I prick my fingers?”
“Seeing as we’re on the topic of eight,” the shopkeeper’s grin curled crookedly on his face, “I’ll cut you a generous deal and say eight hundred dollars.”
Arabella blanched at the steep price. Her aunt would not be pleased with her to find out she spent a small fortune on a pet; she could very well earn her aunt’s swinging cane regardless of whether she showed up empty-handed or not. However, she didn’t have the time to haggle for a better price, nor could she risk him raising the price. Against her better judgement she pulled her aunt’s check out, scrawled out the amount, and slid the check across the counter.
His greasy hand easily swiped it behind the counter with a chuckle. He turned back to her with a greedy grin, then snatched her hand up and nearly pulled her across the counter. The force with which he pinched her fingers was enough to cut off the circulation and amplified the pain as he stabbed the needle into her ring finger. She cried out and tried in vain to free her hand.
“Hold still!” He huffed in a way that sounded more like a laugh. “Almost done!”
She felt the cool blunt tip of the pen, counted to four and suddenly felt the coolness of the stone quickly burn hot as the cursed energy greedily drank her blood before the ring was roughly jammed onto her finger.
“Sign!” he baked, “Quickly while the blood’s still hot!”
The pen was forced into her hand and with a shaking hand she managed to sign ‘Arabella Edevane’. She dropped the pen, and the shopkeeper snatched the contract away and rolled it up while Arabella clutched her hand, trying to stop the bleeding.
“Did you have to be so rough?” She demanded as the shopkeeper walked around the counter with a single key.
“You looked like you were hesitating,” he snorted, completely unbothered by his unprofessionalism. “I had to remove your flight before you chickened out.”
Arabella glared at the shopkeeper’s back as he approached Octavius’s cage and unlocked it. The door slid open, and the shopkeeper hesitated for a brief moment before harshly pulling the stake from Octavius’s chest. With a hiss of life, Octavius moved faster than her eyes could see and quickly swapped places with the shopkeeper and pinned him in place with his forearm at the other man’s throat.
Arabella was anxious to return to the safety of her home. She wasn’t sure how Governor Knox planned to explain himself to her or anyone else when he awoke, but she didn’t plan to entertain him otherwise. As the coach pulled around the corner to her house, Braxa burst through the door waving a letter in her hand over her head excitedly and pulling a travel trunk behind her. The moment the carriage came to a stop, Braxa flung herself on door of the coach.
“Braxa,” Arabella nearly shrieked as the coach rocked slightly. “What are you doing?”
“Ma’am, you’ve received a most urgent letter!” she blurted breathlessly with a wild look in her eye. “It arrived shortly after you left, it was only the butler that prevented me from running it out to you before you rolled away with that horrible man.”
“There’s no need to worry about Governor Knox any longer. I shall not be entertaining anything else he has to say to me.” she huffed as she pushed on the door to get out. “Johnny is seeing that things are set straight with the Governor.”
“Good, I always liked that boy, he’s always had a good head on his shoulders.” Braxa harrumphed in approval as she released her hold of the door and pulled it open. “It would make his mama proud for assisting you in your escape ma’am.”
Arabella nodded in agreement, a small smile creeping on her face as she slid out of the coach until her eyes caught hold of the letter clutched in Braxa’s hand. She recognized the wax seal as her aunt’s seal and a sense of foreboding filled her.
“You said it was urgent?”
“What?” The hobgoblin tilted her head in confusion before looking at her hand and gasping. “Oh, yes! Yes! Very urgent indeed! From your dreadful Aunt Euphemia.”
“It’s not good to speak of the elderly in such a way, Braxa.” Arabella chided gently as she accepted the letter and held it close to her, though she didn’t disagree with her.
Braxa scoffed, “She’s a youngling compared to me! I’m twenty years her senior in human years, so I’ll say what I want about that dreadful woman.”
“Aunt Euphemia isn’t the most pleasant person to be around,” Arabella sighed and was ready to pull her maid inside. “But let’s go inside so I can read the dreadful news.”
“There’s no time, ma’am.” Braxa shook her head and held her hands tightly in her own. “You must leave tonight, or you’ll miss the train.”
“Train?” Arabella blinked this knowledge and glanced at the letter and realized that it was already opened and carefully folded and closed again. Frowning most disapprovingly, she heaved a heavy sigh, “Braxa, did you read my private mail again?”
“The brownies got to it first since the mail arrived so late.” Braxa shrugged, completely unapologetic for her actions. “They were about to hide it into the mousehole in the wall when I came around the corner just in time to snatch it from them.”
It was a likely story. The brownies, while excellent housekeepers when bribed with a proper bowl of cream and occasional cookies, were also notorious for their little pranks. They had on more than one occasion run off with bills and other forms of important correspondence into the walls of the house. Braxa was the only one that could properly scold them and get them to return what they’d stolen.
“You read your letter while I tell the coachmen where we need to go.” Braxa shoved the letter into Arabella’s hands and darted towards the front of the coach.
“‘We’?” Arabella repeated as she grabbed Braxa’s hand, preventing her from darting off.
She shrugged nonchalantly and handed Arabella her handbag.
“Yes ma’am.” Braxa nodded her head vigilantly. “I can’t let a woman of your status and character go to Vandale alone. Now I’ll just be a moment.”
Braxa slipped her hand free and marched over to the coach driver. Arabella couldn’t quite make out what was said, but she heard numbers being thrown at the coachman as Braxa began to haggle a price. Not wanting to waste much more time, Arabella unfolded the letter and quickly read over the contents.
To my disappointing niece,
Upon receiving this letter, you are to leave immediately, do not even consider hesitating a breath longer. You are to join me on a train voyage out West to that dreaded monster filled town Ottilie to see your father. He’s not responded to any of my letters in the last three months and the banks claim the monthly allowance checks he normally sends has bounced. I can only assume that since you’re his dependent you’ve also experienced something similar; if not you must tell me if my younger brother is neglecting me.
I plan to get to the bottom of this myself. I don’t have time to dawdle with lawyers and men of the like who will take too long to provide a proper answer when the entire Edevane estate is at stake.
Before you come to the Edevane Estate, you are to go to Vandale and stop in at the O.H. Pet Shop and acquire the most suitable travel companion that will act as our protection as we travel. You are to pick up a male of an intimidating height, unoffensive face, and lean build so they don’t eat all the provisions along the way.
I’ve already signed and provided a blank check which you are to use to pay. Try to be reasonable and don’t allow the salesman over charge you.
My train car leaves Saturday June 19. If you’re not here, I can only assume that the postal service has yet again failed me in sending my urgent letters in a timely manner, or you are truly a disappointment and have left me to fend for myself.
Euphemia, the head of the Edevane Estate.
Arabella’s lips formed tightened into a displeased frown. Aunt Euphemia was still the same in bitterness, blunt insults and demands. While Arabella wasn’t exactly accomplished like her cousins with secure financial but loveless marriages, being called ‘disappointing’ was a little much, even for Aunt Euphemia. Then again Aunt Euphemia was known for stating her opinions, rude or otherwise, regardless of taking the other person’s feelings into account. The barbed words had admittedly stung and a part of her would almost rather risk traveling West alone, but if this was the letter her father had told her about, she needed to obey her aunt and depart immediately.
She was desperate to get out of her dinner dress and into something much lighter, especially since she was certainly overdressed for the ride to Vandale, but she supposed it would suffice so they could depart quickly. Even if it was late in the evening, Aunt Euphemia wasn’t one to wait for anyone, especially not Arabella. She carefully refolded the letter and the check with a sigh and slipped them into her handbag. She wished this could have waited until morning.
The clacking of Braxa’s heels made Arabella turn and she was more than surprised to see her travel trunk packed and ready for her. She did remember Braxa dragging it behind her when she originally climbed the coach but seeing it in the lantern light somehow solidified the face she was leaving.
“The driver’s got the address, ma’am,” Braxa said with a disapproving look as she bent to pick up the travel trunk. “I already took the liberty of packing your trunk.”
Arabella silently nodded and against her better judgement she climbed back into the coach and Braxa took the seat across from her. As the coach pulled away, she stole a long gaze at her mother’s childhood home she had the sinking feeling that she might not see it again. She prayed to the gods that she would be able to keep it out of Cousin Leroy’s hands.
OCTAVIUS
It was a particularly busy day in the pet shop, which was most strange. On average the bell above the door would only ring three times at most, but today the bell ran an incessant amount. Octavius could only assume that there was some sort of sale going on, especially since the storekeeper had upped the output of the herbal incense puffing in all the holding cells to keep everyone docile. He had kept his eyes closed in a vain attempt to ignore the noxious herbal incense puffing on his face and choking his lungs to keep him weak. He wasn’t sure what was worse, the incense or stares and commentary from the customers. None of them were worthy of note and had nothing interesting in their minds to listen to as they explored the wares.
Whatever the sale was, it must have been good to keep a constant flow of traffic in the shop. Normally the shopkeeper doesn’t allow more than five customers in the shop at a time due to the limited spacing in the shop. After being here long enough Octavius could assume it was that time of year when the Orion Hunters were auctioning off nonhumans to make room for the new stock. Enough of the others were gone by the time there was a lull in business that Octavius could see the Orion Hunters had made a small fortune today.
It made his inner beast more irritable than usual, scratching at his sanity to escape and howling madly as if to seek something out. Staked immobile in his cell he itched to stretch even his fingers or wiggle his toes. His throat burned for just a drop of blood to ease the need for his thirst. The conglomeration of humans traversing the shop only heightened the need for his thirst to be quenched.
The bell chimed for what felt like the twentieth time today as new customers entered the shop to gawk at him and the beast harrumphed in disappointment and curled in on itself back in the recesses of his mind. The gasps and low murmuring grated his nerves, and he wanted nothing more than the usual silence to pretend to sleep. Their commentary on his rarity and steep price was enough to make him open his eyes to cast a glare at them. Their faces blurred together beneath the swampy green haze that shrouded his holding tank and reeked of money and ill intent.
A hand slapped on the glass and the store manager’s chortle guided the people away from Octavius’s holding cell and warned them of his biting habit. Octavius was the center display piece in the store to draw in the customers only to be at such a high price that they were forced to purchase someone else. After all, what was as intriguing as a drow turned vampire? He was a novelty, coincidentally exotically alluring as he was dangerous, and his very nature drew wealthy fools to him like moths to a flame.
The store manager was wise to make his price so incredibly high as Octavius was currently the only one to have returned to the shop twice for the same offense. He had drained his previous owners dry with no regrets and was tracked down by the Orion Hunters before he could escape the city. The fools that purchased him were for their own ill-gotten gain and deserved their deaths. Had they considered keeping him in a gilded cage like some sort of pet, perhaps he would’ve given them the chance to live longer; then again perhaps not.
In his first year of being in the shop, his first owner was some sort of wealthy railway owner who was expanding towards the west of the continent. He had multiple crews working night and day to accomplish this. It was the first time Octavius had ever been on a train, and for how thrilling it was it came to an abysmal end the moment he stepped off the train. His first owner originally wanted Octavius to punish the night workers who were shackle bound moth folk who were too frail to lift a hammer over their heads to pound the large nails into the ground. A moth child had been thrust at his feet, and he immediately turned on the humans, causing an outbreak and freeing most of the moth folk. In his bloodbath he’d turned on his master and quickly found himself staked and back in the shop. He certainly hadn’t enjoyed returning to the shop, but setting some of the moth folk free had been worth it.
It wasn’t even two months later after his return that his second owner hadn’t minded the manager’s warning and bought him for a trade to the red-light district to make up for his deep debt. While the Tiefling madame of the house was most intrigued by him, she had a sharper eye for the danger that followed Octavius and wisely rejected the offer. His owner didn’t take the rejection well and immediately pointed a gun at her. Octavius couldn’t explain the compulsion that had come over him to take the bullet for the madame, but he had and with the pain of the bullet he allowed the beast’s bloodlust to devour his owner. In his bloodlust haze he vaguely heard the madame offer to assist him in his freedom if he killed a few more of the less than wanted customers. He had too readily agreed and caused too big of a scene that he was hauled back to the shop.
He was admittedly all too eager to drain a third just so he could be put on death row and end this miserable life he was forced to live. If the calendar behind the register was correct, it had been a little over five years now since he last had an owner. Given how dutifully the manager worked to draw customers in and then deter them, he was certain he wouldn’t have another owner until a generation had passed so time could forget him. However, the beast within him felt a strange call deep within his soul that was certain he would be purchased today. Octavius knew better than to hold onto a false hope, but with the foot traffic that came in, he found himself rousing every now and then to see if his third owner was arriving today.
As daylight faded for the evening to take over, the flow of customers slowed to a dull pace to the point where the manager muttered something about closing early. Whatever hopes Octavius had faded away with the day. Ready to resign to his fate, Octavius closed his eyes and tried to settle in for the night when there was a sharp pull in his chest. It came so hard and fast he thought the wooden stake had been ripped from his chest. His eyes snapped open in anticipation, but he saw nothing. The beast within him, however, grew restless once more and pawed impatiently at his chest, howling even louder than before.
Suddenly, the bell rang and soft dainty footsteps entered the shop. For some strange reason it had him wanting to twist about to see who had entered as the beast crooned approvingly. This was too strange, he’d never once felt like this before, yet as he heard the store manager speaking to the customer, a strange anticipation filled him.
Across the river, large gold letters spelled out ‘Delphinium’ atop the entrance of a three-story white brick building that sat on the corner, acting as the glorious centerpiece of the surrounding brownstone buildings. Large baskets of white flowers hung between the high standing roman columns that decorated the building with pride. Gold gilding sparkled in the rarity of electric lighting, screaming of grandeur and opulence that only the wealthiest could afford.
As the coach panned to the right to cross the bridge, there was already a long line of coaches waiting to drop off their guests at Delphinium. Arabella was worried she would be trapped in the coach with the governor for a long time, but Governor Knox’s coach pulled into a separate empty lane labeled ‘VIP’ where there were only three other coaches parked. Her stomach dropped as they cut in front of all the other guests; however, Governor Knox practically strutted like a peacock as he escorted her towards the restaurant. Each step closer to the building she felt him pull her closer, as if to make a show of who was accompanying him for dinner, and she tried not to shrivel away from him.
Footmen greeted them at the doors and opened the large ornate oak doors. Arabella stepped onto a grand purple and gold carpet and heard orchestral music playing the current popular pieces as they went through the small foyer area. Governor Knox held her arm a little too close as he nearly marched up to the host stand and waited impatiently in line behind other guests. The plush purple carpet did little to absorb the sounds from the dining hall. Gentle laughter of Fulton’s wealthiest socialites went over clinking glasses of champagne and expensive wine and was just loud enough to drown out the violin solo. It was the briefest glimpse of what those with too much money could afford and as enchanting as it was it made Arabella wish these folks would donate such large funds to the charities that needed it.
With a hard tug on her arm Arabella nearly stumbled as they were brought before the host stand where a small human man with a tiny mustache and combed back hair stood. “Good evening, good sir and mademoiselle,” he said curtly in a foreign accent as he looked down his sharp nose. “Do you have a reservation today, Governor Knox?”
“Of course I do,” Governor Knox said with a little too loud. “Knox, table for two.”
“Ah, yes, I see you here Governor Knox.” He smiled professionally, though Arabella could detect some annoyance in his strained smile as he checked the name off his list, and tucked two menus under his arm before leading the way through the dining hall.
The laughter and chatter turned into hushed whispers as soon as they entered, all eyes following them as they crossed the room to the private dining room. They were escorted behind a large wooden door into an elegant room set for two. Arabella’s stomach threatened to climb up her throat as she was led to the table, and the host pulled her chair out for her. While there were no visible shackles, invisible ones strapped her into her seat and caused her heart to race erratically as the host left.
The private room was of an adequate size, but it felt unnecessarily small with just the two of them there and Governor Knox too close. Arabella wanted to flee. She had to breathe through her nose to remain calm and not empty her already small stomach into her lap. She stared at the menu in front of her hoping to distract her growing anxiety, but the letters seemed to move and refused to remain still enough for her to read them clearly.
Water being poured into her goblet snapped her out of the oncoming attack and a familiar voice tickled her ears. “Good evening, sir and ma’am,” The polite jersey accent pulled her eyes upwards, and her anxiety slowly bled away as she gazed up at the familiar orc. “My name’s Johnny and I’ll be waitin’ on you this evening.”
The handsome orc with dark chestnut hair braided down his back and blue eyes full of concern was her ex-footman. He was gentle, kind, and very thorough in everything that he had done that she held onto him for as long as she could before unfortunately having to let him go a little over a month ago. Unlike her current staff, he was younger and had more opportunities for better and greater things, though she was incredibly surprised to see him here in all places. He could fix anything and had hands meant for crafting art which were wasted on an establishment like his.
Arabella wanted to ask him how he ended up here, but she felt Governor Knox’s beady eyes narrow suspiciously at them. Not wanting to get him in trouble she quickly tore her gaze away and sipped her water. Her mind and heart felt a little clearer as she set the glass down and took the appropriate chance to review the menu. Governor Knox voice cut in with forced joviality, sending an icy chill through Arabella.
“I’ll have an old fashion to start, though I’m sure I’ll need several more to get through this evening.” His beady eyes barely spared a glance over the menu as he closed it. “And bring me two platters of the crab cake appetizers and anything the lady here likes.”
“Of course, sir,” Johnny nodded dutifully and turned to Arabella, his eyes softening at the edges. “And for you ma’am?”
“Just water.” She responded quickly, “I’m afraid my stomach won’t be able to handle anything too heavy this evening.”
Governor Knox snorted rather loudly, as if her delicate stomach were utterly ridiculous. Johnny’s expression remained professional and poised but she noticed the tick in his jaw.
“I recommend the elderflower tonic from the Garden Party selection, Miss Edevane,” he skillfully flipped the page and pointed to the nonalcoholic beverage selection. “It’s light and refreshing, and I’ll make sure there’s no alcohol for your lighter palate.”
“That sounds lovely,” she nodded appreciatively, “thank you.”
“Of course, ma’am,” the corners of his mouth curled up knowingly. “Should you have any questions or dietary restrictions when it comes time to order your entrée, just let me know. I’ll return soon.”
With a polite bow he turned on his heel and left the room, taking the joy with him. The room seemed to grow a hint darker despite the glowing electric lights around them. She quickly stole another sip of her water before steeling her nerves for the awaited discussion.
“Delphinium is too fine a place to dine to for our discussion, isn’t it?” Arabella teased slightly, hoping to get him in good spirits. “I believe a simple meal at home with your chef would have more than sufficed.”
“Hardly,” he snorted snobbishly. “While my chef is accomplished, he just can’t seem to replicate the flavors I like here.”
“Is that so?” Her smile grew strained as she carefully placed her hands in her lap under the table and prayed Johnny would return swiftly.
“Delphinium is the finest restaurant I’ve ever been to though it’s a shame it’s across the river and not in Fulton.” He smiled politely, but his usual joviality had yet to return, “Still, I wanted to properly wine and dine you before we get into our topic tonight.”
The words were just what she expected, but there was something in his tone that had alarm bells ringing in her ears. He had made quite a show showing her off as his dining companion that she couldn’t help but wonder what they would actually be discussing this evening.
Not wanting to let the alarm bells ring too loudly, she cleared her throat. “I noticed the host recognized you immediately. Do you come here often, or does your reputation precede you so well?”
“Both,” his mouth tugged up in a smug sort of way and there was a sparkle in his beady eyes as he pulled on his lapels. “As the Governor of Fulton, all the citizens recognize me, of course, but I can’t help but frequent the delicacies here. They’re just too good to resist.”
He patted his rotund stomach and chuckled to himself, and Arabella could only force an amused smile in response. Thankfully Johnny returned with a silver domed tray in one hand above his head and a small serving tray with glasses in the other. He set the silver dome before the governor and with a flourish of his wrist popped the tray off to reveal fully stuffed crab cakes. The way Governor Knox inhaled in excitement sounded akin to a pig snort, not even bothering to wait for Johnny to set the drinks on the table before immediately snatching up a crab cake to immediately devour it Arabella quickly hid her disgust behind her menu and prayed there was something light enough for her stomach as Johnny gently placed her elderberry tonic beside her.
“Anything in particular catching your eye ma’am?”
Feeling overwhelmed by the many heavy meat options, Arabella chewed her lip nervously. “Is there anything that has more vegetables than meat?”
“Of course.” He nodded assuredly and gently turned the page, “if you look towards the bottom of the entrée list, though limited, there are a few vegetarian options.”
Her eyes followed his pinky and ready the entrées over with a small nod of her head, though nothing seemed very appetizing with her growing lack of appetite.
“If I may, ma’am,” he said with a knowing look. “The mushroom risotto should appeal to your more delicate palate. The mushrooms are quite fresh, and I can make sure it’s the lightest sprinkling of parmesan on it for you.”
“That sounds perfect,” she breathed a small sigh of relief and her stomach seemed eager for the food. “The house salad will more than suffice for the side.”
“As you wish, ma’am.”
“The last thing a thin lady like you needs is vegetables, Miss Evedane. You need more meat!” Governor Knox harrumphed dismissively and banged his fist on the table. “We’ll have the porterhouse for two and pommes puree.”
Arabella openly frowned as Johnny tucked her menu under his arm. Johnny’s jaw ticked again but he kept his mouth shut to remain professional. Once Governor Knox finished the last of his crab cakes, he sloppily licked his fingers and rudely slid the empty platter to Johnny. With a careful exhale through his nose Johnny took the empty platter back and stood straighter.
“Very well sir,” his tone was tight, Arabella sensed his temper flaring, but he managed to remain calm as he took the menus from them. “I shall put the order in.”
With quick, quiet assured steps Johnny left the room and Arabella wanted to leave with him. She could hardly believe Governor Knox’s behavior. It was entirely too rude for a man in his political and social standing.
“That orc was acting rather familiar with you, Miss Evedane,” Governor Knox frowned disapprovingly as he wiped his sausage fingers on the fabric napkin and sipped his drink. “Should I request another server?”
If she didn’t know better, she would assume he wasn’t a fan of Johnny specifically because he was an orc.
“Of course not.” She frowned, hardly understanding his abrupt shift in attitude. “Johnny was one of my previous employees. He was previously my footman; a good, diligent worker he was, and I was sad to let him go.”
Guilt poked at her heart as she spoke the words aloud and she really prayed he was getting paid well to be working here.
“If you liked him so much, why did you let him go?” Governor Knox suddenly leaned forward with a condescending eagerness in his gaze that quickly twisted the guilt inside Arabella.
Her eyes flicked back to him in annoyance at his obvious probing for answers from the gossip that surrounded her. It was obvious he knew of her circumstances and wanted to prey on them for his own personal gain. While he was paying for the meal and had the upper hand, she wouldn’t allow the important conversation they needed to have to be forgotten so easily. Doing her best to remain calm, Arabella responded coolly, “I’m afraid that isn’t relevant to our conversation this evening, Governor Knox.”
“On the contrary, Miss Evedane, I think it’s most relevant to our conversation, especially since it aligns with the noble cause you wish to defend.” He leaned his elbow on the table, his ears practically burning to drink up every bit of tea she could spill. “Tell me, why would you let such a valuable employee who just so happens to be an orc go free from your employ?”
Shame and embarrassment burned her to her core, but she supposed he had a point. It was rather hypocritical to defend her cause when she unfortunately had to let Johnny go, though this felt more like an excuse to abuse his power. The cool weight of the sleeping draught resting in her bosom suddenly felt very tempting to use to get out of this situation.
“I could no longer afford to keep him.” She answered simply.
“Why ever not?” Devilish eagerness coated his postering sweet tone as he leaned forward. “Surely your father’s gold mine out west is doing just fine. My stock and bonds have profited greatly from it this quarter.”
That news lightened her worry on the business side, though it did little to ease her nerves about her current financial situation.
“The gold mine is just fine,” she said in a clipped tone, “however there seems to be a problem with the bank, and if I had to guess Cousin Leroy had something to do with it.”
It was half true, but his eyes practically glittered at the news, and he had the decency to look horrified on her behalf. “Leroy has always been a bit bullheaded; you don’t think he’s turning things in favor so he can get your house, now do you?”
It appeared the rumor mill following her was a little closer to home than she cared to admit. No doubt Cousin Leroy had something to do with it.
She quickly averted her gaze. “Regardless, my lawyers are getting things sorted out.”
That was a lie. Her lawyers were working on it, but Cousin Leroy was quick to pay them off in his favor; not that the governor needed to know that. The pitying look from those beady eyes as he smiled sympathetically at her told her he didn’t believe her.
“Now, Miss Evedane, I wouldn’t normally offer this, but should you be in the financial straits I think you to be in, I don’t mind loaning you the necessary funds to keep you afloat this summer,” a dark shadow across his face as he grinned with a plot in mind, “for the right price of course.”
“I assure you, Governor Knox, I’m quite fine, but I’m . . .” Her skin crawled and she quickly shook her head. “Flattered by your offer.” She couldn’t allow things to spiral too far and needed to get back to the task at hand. “Besides, I doubt I could afford the interest I would need to pay you.”
Not wanting to look at him any longer, Arabella sipped the elderberry tonic and hummed at how refreshing it tasted. It was almost enough to make her forgive the governor’s rudeness and digging; almost.
“Oh, I’m quite certain you could, Miss Edevane.” He chortled and propped his triple chin upon his large hand and nursed his drink. “I would resolve all your issues and make sure your monsters get integrated into the school for the considerably low price of your hand in marriage.”
She nearly spat her drink out, but instead, swallowed too quickly and choked on it. Arabella broke into a coughing fit and nearly knocked her drink off the table. “I –” she gasped sharply around a cough, “beg your finest pardon?”
Governor Knox chuckled in amusement at her reaction.
“Easy, now Miss Edevane, I haven’t even told you the best part.” His tone was full of mirth that her heart couldn’t stomach. “Leroy is the one who told me of your financial troubles and that you’ve long since given up trying to find a husband and were simply too shy to approach me.”
Ice seeped into her veins, and she wanted to break right then and there. She knew that Cousin Leroy was low, but she hadn’t known he’d reach the scum in the gutters.
“He did what?”
“It would work in both our favors, wouldn’t it?”
That feeling of entrapment locked around her waist and the alarm bells picked up again as she shook her head in disagreement. “I can’t possibly see how.”
“I need a wife to leave my wealth to since none of my children are deserving of it, and you need a husband to manage your father’s gold mine. It’s perfect, isn’t it?” Amusement slid into his gaze as he slung the rest of his drink back in a single gulp. “I’ve been most persistent for over a month now, doing everything I can to woo you. You certainly do like to play hard to get.”
Arabella would have had to be blind to not see his obvious advances but chose to save face by not acknowledging his advancements. She wanted to avoid causing a misunderstanding; it looks as though her efforts were in vain.
“I had assumed your agreement to join me for dinner tonight was because I’d finally worn you down.” He chuckled darkly to himself. “Afterall, you can’t believe that I was going to allow those monsters into the school without the proper extortion, now do you? I do have a political standing to uphold. While abolition was the outcome of the war, not as many people agree as you think.”
“Governor Knox,” Arabella spoke firmly, hoping to regain control over the situation. “I came here this evening to speak about the inclusion of the nonhuman community into our schools! Not to become your wife!”
“Well now, that’s shame,” he tutted slowly with a shake of his head. “Because unless you become my wife there’s no way I’ll allow those monsters into our schools to sully the reputation of Fulton and steal opportunities from my grandchildren!”
Arabella could only gape at the horrible and incorrigible man before her. She truly thought she had a chance to change his mind without properly seeing his intentions. She felt like such a fool. Hot tears of shame burned the backs of her eyes just as the door opened again and Johnny returned with a cart with two silver domes atop it. She quickly averted her eyes and quickly swiped under her eyes Governor Knox proceeded to return to his more jovial mindset.
“The food is here already?” He clapped his hands together eagerly. “My, my, you must have known I was starving!”
“Timeliness is of the utmost importance to Delphinium, sir.” Johnny responded curtly as he placed the platters before them and promptly removed the silver domes.
A wonderful garden salad and mushroom risotto sat before Arabella while two servings of the porterhouse for two and a large bowl of pommes puree.
“My, my, this is quite a feast.” Governor Knox said greedily as he rubbed his hands together and immediately began cutting into his food, hardly sparing a glance to see that Arabella was eating the salad that she’d ordered.
“Can I get you anything else?”
Johnny’s eyes quickly turned to Arabella, concern deep in his blue eyes. Arabella smiled weakly and she gently shook her head. Johnny lingered for only a moment, sparing an annoyed glance at the governor before inevitably leaving the room.
Arabella was thankful for the salad, though she mostly pushed the food around on her plate. She had completely lost her appetite and her dinner companion who lacked the proper table manners to eat quietly hadn’t noticed. His face was covered in the porterhouse sauce, pommes puree stuck to the lapels of his dinner suit, and he burped loudly between mouthfuls.
“This is so good, isn’t it?” Governor Knox chortled between bites. “Worth every penny, even if we are being served by an orc.”
Arabella didn’t bother to hide her discontent and remained silent. She needed to come up with a way to put the sleeping draught in his drink without his notice. Governor Knox let out another burp, only this time his stomach bubbled loudly, and he groaned. Arabella hardly had a chance to react before the governor fell face first into his food. The dinnerware and silverware clattered loudly, and Arabella bolted from her seat. Governor Knox was entirely slumped over the table and not moving.
“Governor Knox?” Arabella asked timidly, poking him to make sure he was alive. She could just barely make out the slow rise and fall of his chest when the door to the room opened and Johnny bolted in.
Feeling like a criminal she froze in place and turned in horror at Johnny.
“Is he finally out?” Johnny asked in a hushed tone, hardly seeming surprised by the state of the governor.
“I’m sorry?”
“I was worried when I came to take your entrée order that the sleeping draught hadn’t taken effect yet,” Johnny continued completely unbothered by the man sitting face first in his steak. “I’ve had to up the dosage since his last visit. . .”
“Up his dosage?” Arabella parroted, hardly able to conceive the situation she currently found herself in. “Johnny, do you do this often?”
“Only to save the poor dinner companions he brings here.” He shrugged as he hefted Governor Knox to a sitting position. His mouth fell open and he snored loudly. “For the last three months Governor Knox here has taken to bringing the girls here before drugging them and raping them at his house. It’s the only thing we can do to stop him. . .”
Arabella’s knees nearly went out from under her, but she quickly reached behind her for her seat. The realization that Governor Knox was going to do that very thing to her just to get her to agree to marry him and steal her father’s mining business left an ember of anger within her.
“I can’t believe I nearly fell for it.” She muttered in disbelief at herself.
She should have known better. There were, after all, two rules to society, men’s and women’s, and one of her friends had already suffered from the men’s rules and was cast out of her home. Had Johnny not intervened she would have been caught in the sticky web of lies of men’s rules and suffered a great many losses.
“He’s tactful, Miss Edevane, I will give him that.” Johnny frowned as he carefully wiped his hands clean. “However, when his coachmen told me who he was bringing tonight, I couldn’t let anything happen to you.”
His ears turned darker, and Arabella’s heart swelled even more with guilt.
“Even after I let you go?”
“You didn’t do it maliciously, Miss Edevane,” he gave her a sympathetic smile. “Many of us were anticipatin’ it, to be honest. While you’ve done your best to hide it that Leroy fellow keeps spreadin’ words around town of your financial ruin. None of us believed it of course, but when you started letting us go, we suspected you were in some kind of trouble.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“Ain’t nothin’ to be sorry for ma’am.” Johnny shook her head and held his arm out to her. “You were a good mistress of the house and always treated us with respect, and that’s more than what most people do. Saving you from this pig is the least I could do.”
Tears threatened to rise to her eyes, but he quickly boxed her meal up and pulled her to her feet.
“As nice as it was seeing you again, Miss Edevane, you really need to get out of here.” He insisted and placed her boxed meal in her hand. “The sleeping draught won’t last long, and you need to get out of here before he wakes up.”
“What will happen to him?”
“He’ll be charged the bill and carted home,” Johnny shrugged. “But you shouldn’t worry about that. You just follow me and I’ll take you through the server’s way to the back to get you home.”
Arabella wasted no time following him through a series of winding pathways away from the public eye that led to a back exit. A small coach was already waiting for her. Johnny assisted her onto the coach, barked the address to the driver, and slammed the door shut. He stood outside long enough to watch the coach cart her away. She determined that when she got the financial matters settled, she would need to repay him for this; somehow.
The cool cloth helped to lessen the redness in her eyes, and she could only hope that they would return to normal on her way to school. It was the last day of the semester before the summer break, and she wanted to end the year off well. With the lightest dusting of powder to hide the dark circles under her eyes and to bring a healthy touch of color to her complexion, she was suitable enough to teach for the day. Braxa buttoned her into dress in her blue dress and managed to convince her to eat a few bites of her breakfast, though her stomach was hardly pleased to have anything in it after exerting so much magic. It twisted and turned uncomfortably for most of her walk to work and didn’t settle until she passed the park.
Coaches rolled past as Arabella took her usual path along the sidewalk to work. She caught glimpses of familiar socialite faces, those that once called her friend, quickly turning away from her gaze. Their obvious rejections of her morning greeting stung, but it was not unexpected. Fulton was a small city, and everyone more than likely knew of her sudden struggle in her finances, she wouldn’t put it past Cousin Leroy to be outspoken of her diminishing financial situation in his vast social company.
Keeping her eyes forward and drawing her parasol closer, she chose not to interact further so that both parties could save a little face. She could see the steps to the school, her small sanctuary, when she felt a large and familiar presence looming behind her.
“Why, if it isn’t the lovely Miss Edevane!”
Governor Knox’s booming cheerful voice forced her feet to halt and she internally groaned. Of all the people to run into this morning, Governor Knox was not the most ideal. He was a jovially good man, but at sixty-three not only did he lack a sense of awareness or personal space, but he was also long winded and selectively deaf to the school bells and always reeked of bourbon. The last few weeks leading to summer break, he had been taking his granddaughter to school so Arabella couldn’t avoid him.
Throwing on her best smile she turned around to watch him trotting up the sidewalk already sweating like a pig in a suit. “Good morning, Governor Knox,” she greeted politely and turned her eyes to his granddaughter and her best student Elizabeth. “And good morning to you, Elizabeth.”
“Good morning, Miss Edevane,” she smiled shyly, and her blue eyes quickly darted to the ground as she fidgeted nervously with the lace on her skirt. Her blonde curls were pulled back to gently frame her face and suited her nicely.
“Are you ready for the summer break?” Arabella asked gently, keeping an ear out for the bells for a hasty escape.
“I should hope so,” her grandfather spoke up, his proud smile completely hid under his silver mustache and tugged on the lapels of his suit coat. “The family is already planning a lovely picnic in the park for my daughter’s birthday this weekend and Elizabeth here is excited to beat all the kids her in the ring toss game.”
Elizabeth preened bashfully under the praise of her ring tossing skills, which for a girl of eight years was most impressive. Arabella smiled encouragingly and rocked on her back foot to be a little closer to the school.
“It sounds like a very exciting start to the summer.” Arabella’s hand tightened on the handle of her parasol. “I just hope you pick up a book or two over the summer in preparation for grade four.”
“Come now, Miss Edevane, surely you wouldn’t tell a child to remain indoors all summer with their nose stuck in a book when there’s so much fun to have.” Governor Knox’s beady black eyes locked in on her. Despite the warm morning his gaze caused an icy chill to cling to her.
“Fun and games are wonderful, but they shouldn’t deter from one’s education.” She smiled politely but really had to force the polite society tone in her voice. “The future holds many promises, and we don’t want to steal any opportunities from them, now do we?”
“Well, I suppose I can’t argue with that,” though his tone hinted that he wanted to. With a pinched smile he patted Elizabeth’s back, urging her forward. The child scurried over to Arabella and clung to her hand.
“I best be getting on, then.” Governor Knox sighed as he tugged on his lapels, “I’ve a meeting with the board of education coming up this week in preparation for the next semester and I need to review a few things before then.”
Arabella wanted to take Elizabeth and escape into the school building, but her curiosity for the future education was stronger. Over the last few weeks there’s been whispered rumors of changes to the acadrmy come fall, and many were already picking sides. With the freed nonhumans becoming more prevalent in Fulton, they have sought out establishments willing to provide an education to the older generations. The all-girl’s academy had more than enough classrooms for the evening lessons and enough seats for any that needed to attend during the day, but the faculty was divided. It has caused such an uproar that she was certain it was at least one topic of discussion in the meeting.
“I hope the meeting is to include an open enrollment for the freed nonhumans and those with a lower income,” Arabella said resolutely, quietly searching for Governor Knox’s own view on the topic. “It would be most commendable and historical if the governor of Fulton were to be the first step towards progress and inclusion of the freed monsters and lower income to the schools.”
“‘Commendable and historical’? Well, that’ll depend on the board and what they present to me in the meeting,” a sly grin slipped into place on his very round face as he rubbed his triple chin. “However, I wouldn’t be opposed to have a bit more persuasion over dinner, Miss Evedane.”
Arabella’s heart pattered nervously and her mind floundered to produce an appropriate excuse to get out of yet another one of Governor Knox’s dinner invitations. She knew being alone with him wouldn’t end well. Despite his jovial nature, Governor Knox was known to have a heavy hand with his drinking problem and many women from the red-light district had already banned him from their facilities. Her reputation in society was already fragile and should any new rumors spin from dinner with the governor she would be shunned in the women’s circle for being seen too advantageous, or worse.
Still, she struggled to come up with a proper rejection, especially since she held the cause for including the nonhumans society near and dear to her heart. Arabella knew who was on the board of education and who wanted to keep the schools as segregated and elite to impede the progress for the less fortunate as possible. Though her instincts told her this was a trap and not to agree, her heart demanded she be the one to advocate for the silent voices. She swallowed thickly, the brooch at the front of her neck weighing heavily as she forced the words from her mouth.
“Today is the last day of the semester, so once I sign off for the day, I will be free this evening. . .”
Wicked elation painted the governor’s face as he quickly grabbed her hands in his while regret instantly twisted in her already upset stomach.
“Oh, thank you, Miss Evedane, I assure you won’t regret it!”
Thankfully, the school bell rang and provided the perfect excuse for her to pull her hand away and usher Elizabeth inside. She already regretted agreeing.
“Have a good day, Governor Knox. . .”
Arabella felt his beady black eyes on her back as she took brisk steps towards the school and continued to feel their chilling presence long after the doors of the school shut behind her. Her stomach twisted the whole way to her classroom, threatening to rise in her throat, but when she saw her students waiting for her in her classroom a sense of perseverance washed over her. Throwing on a very quick smile she hooked the handle of her parasol onto her desk drawer. Regardless of her circumstances, she could make sure they had good fun on the last day.
What Arabella wouldn’t have given to have made the day last a little longer to stop the night from coming. For their last day of class, she had all her students write about their summer plans. Some of her students were visiting their families down south, some were crossing the seas to the Old-World countries, and others were looking forward to the festivities happening in Fulton. Their excitement was almost enough to assuage the dread she felt about the evening. She was skimming over the last of the essays when Elizabeth’s mother, Marian Meadows, arrived to pick her up for the day. Arabella prayed with fleeting hope that the governor would cancel his plans and have his daughter relay the message to her.
“Afternoon, Mrs. Meadows,” Arabella greeted on bated breath before turning to call into her classroom. “Elizabeth, you’re mother’s here!”
“Coming!”
“Afternoon, Ms. Edevane,” Mrs. Meadows’ smile was polite but tight as she watched her daughter gather her schoolbooks. “My father’s informed me you’ve accepted his invitation for dinner.”
Arabella’s stomach twisted and she gave a weak nod. Arabella and Marian were once schoolmates from elementary school all the way to finishing school and while they weren’t friends, they were at least on mostly good terms. However, given her rather stiff demeanor, something was amiss.
“He’s really looking forward to it.” A peculiar look crossed Marian’s face. “I should hope I am not to call you mother in the future.”
“I should sincerely hope not.” Arabella blurted, completely horrified by the question, and immediately blushed by the outburst. “The dinner is to be entirely professional and is about some potential ideas for expansion for the nonhumans next semester.”
Marian seemed to relax by this, and a much more genuine smile crossed her face. Arabella could hardly blame her for the accusation as many women their age would find it most appealing to pursue such an older man for the hopes of gaining his wealth in their widowhood. It would unnerve anyone should their father pursue someone their daughter’s age.
“If you’ve truly no desire to become my mother,” she exhaled sharply through her nose and took Arabella’s hands in her own, “I sincerely recommend slipping a sleeping draught in his wine, otherwise he will be less than a gentleman to you once the meal is over.”
The dread which she’d managed to keep at bay all day quickly bled into her veins once more. Marian Meadow quickly pulled her hands away and threw on a bright smile as Elizabeth came running towards them.
“For your sake, Ms. Edevane, I truly hope you heed my advice.” Marian Meadows called over her shoulder, “Your reputation can’t stand much else to lose.”
Arabella could only wave them off as Marion Meadows wasted no time in leaving. As feeling slowly returned to her hands, a small glass vial of powder rested in Arabella’s hand. She quickly tucked it into her pocket and glanced over her shoulder, suddenly worried someone had witnessed their conversation.
Arabella couldn’t leave the academy fast enough.
Braxa was far from pleased to hear of the poor agreement she’d made with Governor Knox and begged her to reconsider. The rumors told from Knox’s staff about his private life was hardly one of an upstanding elected official. The gambling, drinking, smoking, and exclusive private dinners with women from the red-light district in his home would make his late wife roll in her grave.
“No one else would dare try to convince Governor Knox to expand the classes and have open enrollment for the nonhumans,” Arabella huffed stubbornly as Braxa finished pinning her hair. “Certainly not any of the men ready to brownnose their way into his pocket.”
“But must it be you, ma’am?” Braxa’s too wide smile turned into a too wide frown. “There’s plenty of us that know of your character and would happily return to work for you once the funds return.”
Gratitude and embarrassment lashed Arabella’s heart that the staff was aware of the financial situation; though she supposed it was hardly subtle. She was down to the bare bones in terms of staff so she shouldn’t have been embarrassed, but her societal upbringing promptly swatted her heart. Braxa’s praise of her character, though, was just enough to act as a soothing balm to the sting. Despite what society demanded from her, her mother’s good morals stood out loudest in her mind and she did her best to uphold them. For them to be seen by the very people she wanted to help nearly brought a tear to her eye.
“I’m honored to hear that. . .” she swallowed thickly, refusing to start crying else because it would lead to blubbering, and quickly swiped her finger under her eye. “But yes, I must be the one to speak up. If I don’t, my conscious would never forgive me.”
“You’re too goodhearted for your own good, ma’am.”
The hobgoblin sighed disapprovingly with a shake of her head and turned to grab the dark blue dinner dress with the white lace trim and a high lace neckline. While the more traditional fashion was to have the shoulders bare for the evenings, Arabella refused to risk any misunderstanding with Governor Knox. She would remain professional during dinner, say her piece, come home in one piece, and await the dreaded letter from her dreadful aunt.
“Has anything com in the mail today?” She asked with the new worry in her mind.
“Not yet, ma’am,” she shook her head slowly. “Just bills according to Davis.”
Arabella deflated and couldn’t hide her disappointment. She wasn’t sure how accurate her father’s prediction was, but she hoped her aunt’s letter would arrive soon. If this dinner didn’t go well, she truly needed that letter to arrive as the best excuse to get out of Fulton.
Gently sinched into the dinner dress, Arabella descended the stairs as a knock came at the door. Her heart rose up in her throat as she approached the door, her heart pounding loudly in her ears as her butler Davis opened the door. Governor Knox’s large form managed to squeeze through the door and Arabella immediately froze as she felt his beady eyes on her once more. His eyes slowly rolled over her, as if he were debating where to start to devour her. Mr. Davis quickly cleared his throat and the governor blinked and with great effort managed to bring his eyes back up to her face.
“You’re as lovely as a picture, Miss Evedane,” his large hand swallowed hers as he pressed a wet kiss to the top of her hand. “Are you ready for this evening?”
“Once I have my cloak, yes.” Her voice was much more rigid than she meant. She wanted to sound confident and brush past his perverted gaze, but she could hear the fear in her voice.
“Excellent, I think you’ll truly enjoy dining at the Delphinium.” He rolled his fat thumb under the lapel of his coat and looked far too pleased with himself.
Delphinium was the most expensive and luxurious restaurant closest to Fulton, and Arabella knew this was his way of trying to make a statement. While she wanted to keep this dinner professional, she had the sinking feeling that Governor Knox was turning the tables to suit his own desires. A part of her wondered if she should even remotely tempt fate and go on this excursion, however she was already dressed and ready and it would be a waste of Braxa’s efforts.
“A fine dining experience indeed.” Arabella’s smile was shaky at best, but it seemed to do the trick as the governor turned back to the door.
Much too quickly her cape was wrapped around her shoulders and Braxa’s gnarled hands held hers, pressing something small and cool to her hand.
“I insist you call us should something happen, ma’am.” Braxa dipped her chin low, making her large green eyes somehow even larger as she patted her hand. “We’ll be right there should you need us.”
“Thank you, Braxa.” She whispered, her courage quickly failing her.
“Now you make sure you slip this into his glass the moment you get to the table.” Braxa murmured as she adjusted the cloak to sit correctly on her shoulders. “He’s far too fat for it to take immediately, but it will get the job done before the meal is over.”
Arabella almost questioned what Braxa was telling her when she stole a glance of the sleeping draught bottle that Marian Meadows slipped her earlier. She quickly slipped it inside her cleavage, just under the lace neckline. It was cold and foreboding, but it offered her a strange sense of peace that perhaps things would be all right. Rolling her shoulders back with a new feeling of confidence, she turned on her heel and exited the sanctity of her home.
Governor Knox was waiting most impatiently outside his coach, looking far too eager to get the evening started. He extended his hand towards her to assist her in the coach, and she was thankful for the fullness of her skirt that wouldn’t allow room for him to join her in her seat. The entire coach groaned and wobbled under the governor’s weight as he climbed into the carriage and made Arabella say a quiet prayer as the door closed them in together. He huffed and puffed until he was settled before knocking on the back wall to signal to the coachman he was ready to depart. Arabella quickly turned her attention to the window and prayed they had made it to the restaurant before the sun went down.
Her mother’s favorite time of year was always June, for her it was when she felt her magic at its peak. The weather was warm but not too hot, the birds flitted about, the flowers in her garden were in bloom, fresh ivy climbed the brick walls, and if one paid special attention to the bushes, the brownies were hard at work chasing off the rats in the bushes as their break from the indoor chores. Tea was always held in the garden so long as the weather permitted, morning, noon and night. This was how Arabella remembered teatime with her mother, and June was the time her mother chose to have their annual teatime in her dreams from the afterlife. Even in her dreams it was still terribly real.
Her mother’s resting spirit liked visiting every early summer of the lovely garden of her childhood brownstone home, but each visit always left Arabella terribly exhausted when she woke up. Arabella wasn’t prominent in her magic as a spirit seer to converse with the deceased for long in her dreams like her mother and ancestor were. Her skills would have improved under her mother’s tutelage had her mother not passed when she was a child. However, with Luneburg’s outlaw of magic without an approved license and not enough magic tutors in spirit magic, Arabella was entirely beside herself. She kept her magic inclinations a secret and regretted that her powers were going to waste, but it helped her blend in with the rest of society.
Not that blending in with the rest of society has been doing her much good lately. Between her cousin pestering her about her mother’s house and her father’s lack of responses to her correspondence, she wasn’t exactly fitting in with her finances being questioned at every turn. Arabella tried to push such thoughts from her mind; she didn’t need such disappointing thoughts in her mind when she had such limited time with her mother. Taking a deep breath, Arabella cleared her mind for the meeting.
The air shifted and the flitting birds suddenly found branches to roost upon as a gentle but powerful presence entered the space. Her heart flickered with excitement, but she didn’t look back to greet her mother. She must wait for her mother’s spirit to join her at the white painted cast iron table for tea, else she risked losing her sensibility when she woke up. Keeping her eyes on the soft lavender bushes, the chair across her scratched the brick floor as her mother had taken her sea, notifying her it was safe to look.
With curling hair as pale as the moon and eyes like violets she was still as alluring as a spirit as she was alive. Dressed in a fine pale tea gown, her mother seemed to be the embodiment of magic.
You’re looking well, dear.” Her mother’s soft ethereal voice cooed, and Arabella felt the ghost of a hand touch her face, encouraging Arabella to look at her. “Still fair and far too skinny, but you do look well.”
“I assure you I’m of good health, mother.” Arabella smiled brightly and turned to face her mother. “I eat three meals a day with morning and evening tea with plenty of treats in-between to fill my belly when I’m not teaching. My weight only shrinks so severely when we meet like this.”
“There is always a cost with magic, even if I’m aiding you, dear.”
Her smile was kind, but still full of concern. With a wave of her hand a tea tray of rose and lavender teacakes appeared as well as a piping hot pot of tea with three cups. Arabella instantly noticed the third cup and was strangely curious about it. In the decade of these tea parties there have only ever been two cups for the two of them.
“Now, dear,” her mother quickly regathered her attention. “Tell me about your life and what’s happened in the last year since we spoke.”
There was a nervous flutter in her stomach as she tried to think of where to being. So much had happened within the last year, but more terrifying things have happened in the last six months that she wasn’t sure how much it was safe to reveal.
“I’ve secured a job position as a teacher of the third grade at the all-girl’s academy.” She summarized promptly, just barely containing her excitement. “The semester is coming to a close tomorrow though.”
“A teacher?” she hummed in genuine surprise. “They allow women to teach outside the home now adays?”
“Progress has moved most favorably for women in the last decade mother,” she rolled her shoulders back with a small modicum of pride. “Higher education, the ability to work and do more outside the home aside from charities and volunteering; it’s giving the current women a new purpose with a hope for the future.”
“I can only imagine.”
“I’m most excited to help pave the way for the future of young girls to achieve higher things.” She couldn’t withhold her smile as she recalled one of her students. “Elizabeth Meadows is the Governor Knox’s granddaughter, and she’s determined to become the first female governor of Fulton.”
“My, my, quite the advantageous dream for such a young girl, I can only hope she achieves it.” Her mother’s mouth formed a small smile as she primly poured the tea into the cups.
“The nonhumans have also finally gained their freedom and liberty, though the opportunity for them is nowhere near as fast as it should be.”
“I regret not being able to experience it for myself . . .”
Bittersweetness coated Arabella’s insides at wishing her mother were still alive to see it for herself but was glad she could call on her at least once a year. The mood for tea shifted slightly as her mother handed her a cup and grabbed a rose teacake for herself.
“And what of my house?” her mother’s brow ticked high in curiosity. “Has my greedy cousin Leroy tried claiming the house from under you?”
Arabella’s smile waned. She had hoped to avoid this particular topic. It was a rather complicated matter she didn’t want to worry her mother with, especially since there was little she could do to help her.
“No, I still have the house in Fulton,” she swallowed thickly, “much to Leroy’s displeasure.”
Arabella quickly took a sip of her tea and quickly thought of a potential change in subject, so she didn’t have to explain the abrupt financial strait she found herself in.
“Good.” Her mother huffed in mild relief as she took a considerably large bite out of the teacake. “He was always a greedy little bugger who would be far too pleased taking everything from the Turner’s name just to turn around and make a profit off it.”
Arabella nodded in agreement. Since her mother’s passing cousin Leroy has been most adamant about taking the house from her since she was eleven years old. Her father had delayed his return to Ottilie after the funeral to ensure she could stay in the family home in Fulton long enough to complete her schooling and to potentially find a life partner or complete a degree of higher education. Much to Leroy’s chagrin, none of the suitors he’d picked suited her and found better matches. However, Arabella was unable to find a suitor of her own at the Luneburg Community College she’d attended, well at least one that would be accepted by society at the time. There were quite a few men had caught her eye, but they weren’t human and her Aunt Euphemia refused any of their advances when she was under her roof.
They were in an era of progress which meant it was a time of opportunity for all, though progress moved at a gratingly slow pace. Since the war, many things have changed for the betterment of nonhuman species in society, freedom, education, job opportunities, and housing, but not without some pushback from the old hateful bigots. More and more opportunities were opening for them, though there was a small group of people who preferred the old ways to the new and had no problem hindering progress as a whole. Cousin Leroy and Aunt Euphemia were two of those great offenders to progress that would do everything within their power to make sure to keep them in the gutters.
Fighting for nonhuman rights was an uphill battle that Arabella was more than happy to participate in whenever she was able. Her heart was heavily laden with a strong sense of duty to help these people, but especially the children. Thanks to the efforts of the people, there were now two schools in Fulton that allowed the nonhuman species to attend, however neither were easy to attend without the cost of a high fee nor were either easy to reach since so many lived in the country. Arabella’s home was closer to the country, resting just on the outer ring of society so she could attend the parties, but still have her own quiet life away from it all. Arabella had on more than one occasion housed many of the students so they would have an easier time attending school, but with her own dwindling finances it grew more difficult to do so.
“And what of your finances, dear?” Her mother’s question made her mind prickle like a cat caught for it dreaded monthly bath. “I know you secured the teaching position, but is that enough to support you?”
Admittedly, it wasn’t. Teaching inspiring young minds didn’t pay hardly enough for her to afford a closet space to rent in her home, but she certainly wasn’t going to tell her mother that. It had been roughly six months since her father responded to one of her letters and three months since one of his checks came through to pay for the monthly bill on the house. That has prompted Cousin Leroy’s rude inquiring about the house, her father, and finances. He’s been at her door every week for two months since the bank inquired about a delay in payment to the next eligible man listed on the account for the house.
Due to her own fears of the future, she’d remained frugal in her expenses and saved as much as she possibly could. She had enough saved up where she alone could pay for the house through the summer, but that was after she’d guiltily let go several members of staff. She only had a cook, her personal maid, and a butler now. She’d done her best to leave glowing reviews for the staff she’d very unwillingly let go, and many of them had found jobs, but that didn’t stop the whispers from going around society.
“They’re . . . fine.” She answered mildly and quickly stuffed her face with a lavender teacake.
“Fine, isn’t security my dear.” Her mother gave her a pitiful smile and a knowing look. “Especially since your father has been with me for three months.”
The teacake suddenly got lodged in her throat and she coughed loudly to dislodge it. When she finally calmed down and turned to look at her mother to ask her what she meant, she gasped. Her father stood behind her mother, just as she remembered with black hair as dark as coal, sapphire eyes, his favorite tan business suit, and a full mustache curled with an apologetic smile.
“Papa?” Tears formed in her eyes and her heart jumped up in her throat.
“Hello, Arabella.” His voice was warm and forlorn. “It’s so good to see you, I only wish I’d have seen you for Yule like I wanted. . .”
His work and the heavy snow in Ottilie prevented him from crossing the country for the holiday. She was, of course, disappointed but had understood and celebrated with the staff as she did every year he was unable to attend.
“I don’t understand,” her heart squeezed tightly. “When? How?”
“About three months ago,” he swallowed thickly. “As to how, I’ve yet to truly discover it myself.”
She had so many questions, but a shrill ring, ring, ring tolled off in the distance. She didn’t have much longer before she awakened.
“We don’t have long, Arabella, but I’ll try to be quick.” Her father said urgently. “By now my accountant would have stopped by the house, found my body and stopped all my deposits from going through to the banks. A letter should have been sent to my sister Euphemia and given how she feels about free nonhumans, she will more than likely ask you to travel with her to the house in Ottilie.”
“You’re certain?”
While her aunt hated nonhumans, Aunt Euphemia was hardly the type to need anyone to assist her in such a small thing as traveling across the country. The shrill bell was growing louder.
RING, RING, RING.
“I beg that you go with her, if only to receive my will and to see the house.” His eyes shined earnestly. “I finally had it finished over the winter season and wanted to have you come see it during the spring. . .”
“Yes, of course.” She swallowed thickly, still unable to process it all and could feel her mind slipping from the dream plane.
“You don’t even have to take over the company if you do not wish to,” he urged as he walked around the table towards her, “you can sell it and live comfortably if that is what you would like.”
“I will consider all my options, papa.”
“Oh, and when you get there, whatever you do.” He grabbed Arabella’s hand tight and desperate, his blue eyes almost haunting, “do not drink anything in the cellar, I think it was tampered with.”
RING, RING, RING!
Arabella awoke with a gasp, her chest constricting with the need for air, but her body felt like led and prevented her from rising. Her hands rigidly clutched the bedding in a small attempt to regain control over her body, her eyes watered as she stared at the ceiling before turning her head towards the window to see the early rays of dawn bleeding through the curtains. She was awake in the safety of her bed, she was aware of her surroundings, and more importantly she was alive.
Releasing breath, she wasn’t aware she was holding, her body slowly relaxed as air filled her lungs. Five deep and slow breaths later her body finally allowed her to move. Pushing herself up into a sitting position, she pushed the hair clinging to her sweaty forehead away with her hand and picked up the hand mirror on her nightstand. Her appearance was most ghoulish, deep dark circles under her bloodshot eyes, her clammy skin was as pale as dried bones, and her hair fell flat, devoid of its usual vibrance. She would terrify her students if they saw her without her cosmetics.
Rising from her bed on wobbly legs, Arabella moved to the pitcher and basin in the corner of her room. Using two unsteady hands to pour she managed not to make a mess as the water sloshed into the basin. There was a tremble in her hands as she quickly splashed the water on her face, the cool water was nice against her warm skin and helped to calm her racing heart, though it did little to soothe the mourning loss nibbling a hole in her heart.
Her father was dead.
She had considered it a possibility with how he would overwork himself, but she never wanted it to happen. It explained the lack of his correspondence as well as delay in the monthly payments for the house. While she thankfully had it paid for through the summer, she wasn’t sure what she would do with it if there was a house for her in Ottilie. Her mother would roll in her grave if Cousin Leroy got it, the first thing he’d do would enlist the Orion Hunters to cleanse the ancient magic that was rooted in the garden and have them gather up the brownies and pixies. She refused to allow such a thing to happen, but she was beside herself with what to do. It frustrated her to the point of tears.
“Calm down, Arabella.” She scolded her gaunt reflection. “It’s too early to fret and papa has a will. He wouldn’t leave you destitute . . .”
Her father had long since prepared for this and reassured her two Yule’s ago that he’d made sure she would inherit everything with his passing, but everything he had was in Ottilie not Fulton. Since the brown stone was under the Turner name, it was a trickier situation.
A knock at the door made her quickly dry her face with the towel as the maid came in. Her maid was a square jawed hobgoblin with terracotta skin, a pointed nose, the most curious green eyes and black hair pulled back in the tightest bun that it practically stretched her face into the too wide smile on her face. Braxa was a loyal staff member who’d served her mother and knew how to trick the brownies into cooperating and helping out with chores since the dismissal of staff.
“Good morning, Ms. Arabella.” She greeted warmly as she set the breakfast tray on the bed and immediately went to the wardrobe to pull out her garments for the day. “You’re up mighty early today.”
“I’m afraid I didn’t sleep well,” Arabella admitted weakly as she used the towel to gently dab at the wet spots along her hairline.
“A bad dream, ma’am?” Her smile shrank as she tilted her head. Worry pinched her brows as she looked at Arabella and gasped. Braxa’s long fingers touched under Arabella’s jaw and gently turned her head side to side. Arabella winced; she would need extra cosmetics today. “Did you lay awake all night again fretting about things?”
“No,” Arabella shook her head and sat back on her cushioned vanity stool. “My mother visited me. . .”
“Ah, it is that time of year, isn’t it?”
Braxa turned to the calendar on the wall and nodded her head somberly as she realized it was the sixteenth of June, the day her mother died ten years ago. Braxa moved to the water basin and folded a small washcloth longways, dipped it into the water, and squeezed the excess out before returning to Arabella’s side and gently placed it over her eyes.
“This should help the redness ease away sooner.”
“Thank you, Braxa.”
Braxa moved automatically grabbing the comb and running it through Arabella’s pale-yellow hair, making sure to be extra careful on the tangled curls.
“How was she? Mrs. Miriam?”
“Good as always,” she hummed to herself. “I told her about my position as a teacher, how things have slowly started opening up for both women and monsters and she was pleasantly surprised about it all.”
“Glad to hear it, Miss Arabella,” she hummed softly as her long fingers ran through her hair and already started styling it into a lovely swooping bun atop her head. “She’d be most proud of the woman you’ve become and all the good things you’re doing.”
Braxa’s kind praise made her heart swell, though it made the guilt weigh that much heavier in her stomach. She couldn’t bring herself to explain the discovery of her father’s death nor that she couldn’t afford to keep her employed for much longer if she didn’t receive her inheritance from her father’s will soon. She could only hope and pray that her father’s will and his business secured her with enough wealth for her remaining future so she could properly pay for her employees and make sure Cousin Leroy didn’t try to claim the house.
The clattering of wooden wheels against cobblestone streets and the sloshing of water crashing against rocks woke him. His body was heavy as if he had drunk one of his brother’s detestable homemade wines and his head pounded loudly in his ears. But he knew he wasn’t drunk, he’d only had water this evening, but he couldn’t explain why he felt this way or where he was. There was no water in the Under Deark that would crash against rocks unless it was close to the surface. His eyes slowly opened, clarity returned to his vision with each blink, and he quickly found himself in the back of a closed wagon.
The salty air turned his stomach, and if he wasn’t already on his side, he would have vomited at the stench of it. Ristel tried to sit up, but found he was physically incapable with enchanted rope binding his hands and feet. He didn’t know where exactly he was, but from the stench of salt in the air and water sloshing outside the wagon, he quickly guessed he was somehow on the surface.
He wasn’t supposed to be on the surface.
He was supposed to be waking up in his bed in the Under Dark to hear the announcement of the matriarch’s decision of whose house he was to go to after winning second place of his graduation ceremony. The House of Myar and the House of Haur had staked claims on him and the matriarch of the House of Glannath was eager to discuss the benefits of the prospects. He remembered returning to his chambers for the evening but had no recollection of how he was bound and in an unfamiliar place. This wasn’t one of his brothers’ usual cruel pranks, this was very, very real and regardless of how he got here, he needed to find a way to escape.
With great effort he forced himself to sit up and felt strangely cold and empty from whatever was in his system. It had to be some sort of poison created by the drow, it was certainly far too enhanced for a surface dweller to conjure up, and it had nullifying effects to his magic. Given how quickly the drow were to take advantage of one another, finding out who did this was of little concern. His greatest concern was getting out of his confinement and figuring out a way to get home. Just as feeling was slowly returning to his fingers, the wagon suddenly stopped, and the door pulled open. Glowing violet eyes appeared in the darkness, staring down at him eagerly with a greedy pointed tooth smile revealing itself as Faeka of House of Myar stepped into the moonlight. She was dressed in her finest robe of concealment and looked far too pleased that he was awake. He quickly averted his eyes and desperately tried in vain to summon his magic.
“Well, well, it looks like my stolen prize is awake.” Her smile grew more pointed as she stepped into the wagon and approached him. “I guess I should have given you a larger dosage of my poison.”
“You did this?” he huffed out as he tried to move in his restraints. Ristel at least assumed correctly that it was a drow poison in his system, though he hadn’t quite anticipated it coming from the House of Myar. “Why?”
“Simple,” she shrugged as she looked down her sharp nose at him. “The House of Glannath declared Haur’s offer better than the House of Myar and I couldn’t stand for it. If I can’t have you, then I’ll be damned if the House of Haur gets you.”
Faeka Myar was never one to take a losing well and made sure her enemies paid greatly for it, though why Ristel was suffering her wrath was beyond him.
“So, you kidnapped me?” His brow pinched in confusion.
“Kidnapped?” she barked a cruel laugh and traced a hooked nail down his cheek. “No, you pretty thing, I’ve traded you to the Orion Hunters for a wonderful batch of surface dwellers to enhance the wealth and power of the House of Myar.”
“Why?”
“To make Glannath regret rejecting my offer.”
Faeka was much too prideful if she thought selling him off for her own gain would make the House of Glannath regretful. They would be furious and humiliated and all too eager to retaliate, but not regretful. Knowing how strong the house of Myar was, though, Faeka was undoubtedly ready for the confrontation that would come from this. She roughly gripped his chin and stared at him, taking in his features as he avidly avoided her gaze.
“It is a pity,” she sighed listlessly, “with your pretty face and powers as the second best from the graduation ceremony I had hoped to breed strong magical heirs, but Lolth provided a better option for me.”
Ristel knew better than to anticipate anything else but betrayal from his own kind, but he didn’t believe any drow would stoop so low as to sell their own to the Orion Hunters; he was clearly proven wrong. Rage filled him as he glared at the cruel female drow and he wanted nothing more than to burn the smile off her face, but so long as the poison pumped through him, there was nothing he could do physically or magically. He managed to rip his chin free from her hand and she merely smiled in amusement.
“You’re stronger than I thought to have woken so early,” she mused, releasing his chin to grab him by his hair and snatching a knot in her hand. “I’ll have to make sure to give your new keepers a good dosage to keep you compliant for the journey.”
She started to drag him out of the wagon, and he weakly fought against her hold.
“Where are they taking me?”
“I don’t know. I’ve already gotten what I wanted.” She shrugged, completely unbothered. “It is none of my concern, you’ll have to ask the Orion Hunters.”
“Lolth will not bless you for selling one of her own to humans.”
Faeka’s confident smile turned down into a scowl and whatever amusement she had faded into anger. “Lolth is the one who provided the opportunity to sell you, and I’ve wasted enough words on you, male.”
With a snatch of her wrist, she dragged him out of the wagon by his hair and made sure he hit the ground hard the moment he was exposed to the surface air. After spending his whole life in the Under Dark, the clean air of the surface was too pure for his lungs and filled him with the freshest breath only to be immediately expelled from his body the moment he felt the hauntingly holy glowing blue eyes of the Orion Hunters watching him.
He couldn’t tell them apart, they all had shaved heads, glowing blue eyes, and large muscley builds under ordained white robes with blue crosses to signify their devout holiness. They were more akin to warriors that belonged on a battlefield than devout holy men, but who was he to say what humans could and couldn’t be. Ristel had never associated with any humans, let alone any others besides the drow. The large bulky men moved aside, and a shorter thinner male dressed in a similar holy garb, but without the blue cross stepped forward adjusting large round glasses on his face.
“My, my, if he isn’t a perfectly unique specimen.” His dark blue eyes shined with eagerness as he assessed Ristel. “You’ve outdone yourself this time, Lady Faeka.”
“You’ve yet to be displeased with anything I’ve brought you, Dr. Boyle” she scoffed with pride and grinned darkly down at Ristel. “He was my favorite, so I do hope you enjoy him.”
Ristel couldn’t help but wonder how many of their own people she’s willingly turned over to these humans. There was enough truth to the rumors to know that once the Orion Hunters got their hands on a rare breed, they would do everything they could to extract all forms of valuable information from them whether they were alive or dead. The drow had many secrets that were better left as secrets. Lolth would rebuke Faeka for selling her chosen people to the humans if only for the knowledge it provided them.
“Tis most true,” Dr. Boyle chuckled in agreement and stepped forward. “You’ve provided the necessary sedatives?”
Faeka dug into her pouch and held at least a dozen glowing magenta vials. “Two of these should keep him at bay for the majority of the journey, if not the whole of it, though it would behoove you to use them sparingly until you can replicate it in your lab.”
“Duly noted, Lady Faeka,” Dr. Boyle bowed with a flourish of his wrist and held his hand out expectantly.
Faeka chuckled in amusement at the strange sense of worship the small Orion Hunter offered to her and placed the vials in his hands. Dr. Boyle kept his head bent low as he took a step back and carefully tucked the vials into his pockets. Grabbing Ristel by the hair once more, Faeka easily tossed him over to the larger men and disappeared in a puff of smoke.
“Until our next deal.”
Ristel landed hard on his side and looked up at the smaller human’s face. The eagerness in his eye bordered on manic as he smiled.
“Load him up and take extra care not to break him.” Boyle pushed his round glasses back onto his nose, and there was a malicious blue glow in his eyes. “I plan to have so much fun dissecting him.”
Large burly hands hoisted him in the air until he was over someone’s shoulder. Unable to even fight against his bindings or call upon his magic, the world Ristel knew got farther and farther away as the Orion Hunter carried him aboard a ship and below the deck. The salty stench in the air grew worse as he was taken into the belly of the ship and tossed into a holding celling. Though he was still bound in rope, he was shoved behind bars, quickly shackled hands and feet, and a thick collar was wrapped around his neck. There was a prick of a needle at the nape of his neck, and he felt the cold liquid of Faeka’s special poison seeping into his veins.
“Hopefully this does it.” The smaller human chuckled as he placed an empty vial in his hands. “I would hate to waste such a precious resource, so be a good drow and take a nice long nap.”
Ristel wanted to turn and cast a spell to take the head clean off his shoulders, but all too quickly the poison took effect and once again he sunk to darkness.
[SCENE CHANGE]
Where . . . am I?
I want to go home!
I want my mommy.
I’m going to die here. . .
Oh no, we’ve finally arrived . . .
The barrage of fearful thoughts of others roused Ristel from his unwanted slumber. The fact he could hear other’s thoughts again was a good sign that his magic was recovering, if at a dismal pace, though he couldn’t completely call upon it. His mana levels felt as though they were completely empty and iced over, as if he had somehow exerted too much when he hadn’t used them since his graduation. These had to be some sort of lingering side effects from Faeka’s poison, and he hoped Lolth would make her pay for what she’d done in good time.
As his cognitive functions were coming back, he noted that his body felt as though it were led, his tongue dry and swollen, and as he managed to sit up quickly discovered he was no longer alone. Squinting through the darkness there were at least fifty people, orcs, tieflings, hobgoblins, and others bound in chains, stuffed shoulder to shoulder on the opposite side of the bars. From the hopelessness painted on their faces he easily assessed that they were either sold to or captured by the Orion Hunters.
“Finally up, drow?” someone near him grunted, causing Ristel to turn his head in the direction of the voice.
A green tiefling that looked as though he’d been drawn out of the sea sat beside him. His head was shaved haphazardly, half of left of his curved horns was missing, and there was a strange layer of film over his golden eyes that hinted at some potential blindness.
“Where are we?”
“Far from home,” the tiefling scoffed, “from the whispers I’ve heard, I’d gather we’re in the New World.”
“New World?” Ristel’s brow furrowed. They were whispering in the Under Dark that the surface dwellers had found a new uncharted continent to colonize and steal the magic from, but it had sounded too good to be true to Ristel; turns out he was proven wrong yet again.
“Supposed to be a place of new beginnings to those who come here willingly.” The tiefling shrugged, “Can’t say what it will mean for us though.”
“Nothing good, that’s for certain . . .”
Another voice spoke up and forced Ristel to look up and find there were twelve others residing in the space behind the bars with him. He wasn’t sure what set them apart from the others to be separated by bars, but if they were selected by the scientist as he was, which didn’t bode well for any of them. With the slight rocking of the ship, he couldn’t tell if they were moving or docked.
Gulls called loudly outside and the center of Ristel’s chest suddenly felt very hot. Looking down, there was a ray of sun singing his skin and finally forced him to move. Stealing a peak through the smallest hole in the wall where the sunbeam was cutting through, all he saw for miles was blue. He’d never seen the day light sky before, it was perhaps the most unique shade of blue, it was bright and nearly blinding after living his entire life in the under dark. It was different from the Orion Hunters’ trademark blue eyes, it was pure, warm, and the promise of a better future, however but given his current predicament he was in it was foolish to believe anything that shade of blue promised.
Suddenly the only door opened, allowing the blinding sunlight to streak through, and the Orion Hunters barged in and started pulling people up by their chains, half-dragging them out of the room.
“Easy with the cargo!” a hunter barked from above the deck. “We want to make a decent profit this time!”
As those bound in chain ascended up the stairs, the familiar slim figure of the scientist descended the stairs with bulky Orion Hunter with a ring of keys behind him. They stopped outside the barred cage and Boyle’s face spread in slow menacingly excited smile. The others behind the bars shrank back against the walls as the scientist poked his head through the bars, but unable to move more than his fingers Ristel glared directly at him.
“Well, well, well, if my specimens aren’t all bright eyed and bushy tailed and ready to leave.” Boyle mused with great intrigue in coating his voice. “It will make this whole process easier, though I’m sure you’re not ready to walk, drow.”
Ristel’s glare hardened at being pointed out, but he refrained from wasting his breath to deem a response.
“You are going to be my favorite to unlock your secrets, I can tell by that rebellious look in your eye,” Boyle’s right eye twitched with a sickening excitement. “I can’t wait to get you to the laboratory.”
The bulky Orion Hunter opened the holding cell and pulled on the chains, pulling those closest to the door to their feet.
“Be careful, you brute!” Boyle snapped, looking ready to launch himself at the much bigger man. “I paid good money for this batch of specimens to be alive and pristine!”
“Stop whining, you’ll fog up your glasses, doc.” The larger man groused as he yanked harder on the chain.
“I will make you the next one I test on should even a hair be out of place.” The human doctor practically foamed at the mouth with rage and earned an annoyed eyeroll from his brother in the order.
“The wagon is ready on the bridge for your special monsters.” The larger man crossed his arms and looked down disapprovingly at Boyle. “You’ll have them in your laboratory by nightfall.”
“Excellent.” Boyle pushed his large glasses haughtily on his nose. “You’ll have to carry the drow, though, the narcotics of the poison in his system are particularly potent and he can’t walk.”
The bulky man looked unimpressed as he looked down at Ristel still sitting on the ground while all the others had been pulled along. In one swift movement Ristel was hoisted up by his shirt and tossed on the man’s shoulder. He couldn’t help but wheeze as the armor under his robes dug sharply into his stomach, and it only dug deeper as he practically bounced on the upturned corner with each inclined step of the stairs.
Far too quickly he was brought into a world filled with so much light that it nearly burned his retinas as he caught the faintest glimpse of this New World before he was tossed unceremoniously into the back of an enclosed wagon. All he saw was the blue sky before the door slammed shut, purging all hopes of escape and the foolish hopeful thoughts of a better future out and plunging them all into darkness as the wagon lurched forward to pull them to Boyle’s laboratory.
SETTING: 1860-70s, Wild West, cowboys, gilded age, post war era
This started off as a competition piece, and then it turned into something more. I have a rough idea where this story is going, but I'm still figuring it out and trying to listen to what the story wants.
For now, I'm planning on posting the first act (13 chapters) here on Tumblr, if I get enough engagement/enough people like this story I will continue to post here, however I am also posting on my Patreon. If you would like to support me there, please follow the link.
I hope you enjoy this journey with me.
SUMMARY:
As the school semester has come to an end so has Arabella Edevane's finances. With no word from her father for months and the banks and Cousin Leroy getting impatient on what she plans to do with the house, bad news only gets worse as a letter from Aunt Euphemia arrives, demanding she travel across the West to track down her father.
As part of her aunt's demands, it is up to Arabella to find them a suitable travel companion to face the dangers that lay ahead. Against all her morals Arabella is forced to purchase a travel companion from the terrible Orion Hunters and Octavius is hardly what he seems. Dangerously beautiful and charming there are many secrets to uncover that could save or endanger Arabella further.
Matchmaker x Dick too Big x One Time Deal x All in a day's Work x No Plot
Female Reader x Male Monster
His penis was much bigger than expected. It sprang out from his pants, bouncing before settling into a heartbeat twitch. His face was tense. He shared the embarrassment felt by most of the monsters coming through your door. But there was nothing to be ashamed of. First Love First, your matchmaking business, was successful for a reason!
“Let’s see,” you murmured. You held your measuring tape against his shaft, snapping a picture. Another from underneath to show the girth. “No wonder you came to me.” You wrote a few notes down on your tablet. “It must be hard finding someone who wouldn’t run screaming from this.”
The orc frowned a bit, fidgeting as his cock still stayed erect. Hell, it appeared to be getting even harder than before. The porn video playing in the background was nothing to you. These days, it would take a lot more than that to get you excited. But the orc’s eyes darted from the screen and back down to you as you made more notes.
“There’s nothing to be ashamed of. There are more size queens in this world than you would think.” You took the fabric measuring tape from your neck and wrapped it around his cock just under the glans. A shimmering drip of pre-cum appeared at his tip.
“It’ll be no issue finding you a human woman.” Your eyes focused on that dazzling drip of pre-cum. The head of his cock was slightly purple, flared along the base.
I shiver trickled down from his shoulders to his loins. “That…that tickles,” the orc grunted.
You released the measuring tape a bit. “Sorry, there er-” You glanced at his sign-in sheet. “Earl.” You gave him a smile as you looped the tape around the center of his cock. The pre-cum was spilling.
“No worries.” His voice was tight, dark eyes pointed at the TV screen. “I take it you do this a lot?”
“Mm-hmm!” It was a point of pride for you. You loved your job and the business you built from the floor up. “Several every day. Cocks, tentacles, vulvas, expressers, oviposters, cloacas — I’ve seen them all!” You were quite proud of your work. Lots of monsters were out and about these days. Most of them were eager to find an excellent human to fuck, mate, whatever with.
You tried to reassure him with a smile. “Like I said, no need to be nervous. You’re in expert hands.”
His pre-cum was practically a faucet at this point. “I see. Very interesting,” he grumbled, cheeks a few shades darker.
“Eh. You would think that, but we’re all the same in a way.” You wrote his girth on your tablet and then slid the tape down around his base. He jolted, gasping out loud. His cock sprang into my face, hitting you in the face.
“Oh, no! Oh god! I’m so sorry!” Earl exclaimed dramatically in humiliation. “I’m so sorry!” he grabbed his cock, pressing it into his belly.
You adjusted your glasses, wiping his pre-cum off your face. Some had splashed onto your lips. It was…sweet? You laughed to break the tension. “Hey! Not the first time it’s happened. I’ve had worse-behaved genitalia, I’ll tell you that.” You stood and reached for a tissue, wiping your face.
“Yeah, but I don’t make a habit of doing such a thing!” Earl was still grasping his groin, fretting in place before the white photography screen.
“Earl, Earl, it’s okay.” You placed your hand on his shoulder. “I do have to get that last measurement, though. Think you can control yourself this time?”
Earl nodded shakily. Slowly he removed his hand, and his cock sprang back out, throbbing harder than before. You knelt back down, aiming the camera again because someone had jostled it. You brought the measuring tape down, cinching it around his base.
His pre-cum practically sputtered. People knew orcs for being, well, quite wet. But Earl was excitingly juicy. The sweetness still lingered on your tongue. Was he a fan of pineapple, or was he just the sweetest orc in the city?
You snapped a picture and stood back up, draping the measuring tape around your neck. “Alright, Earl, that’ll do it there.”
“Now what?” He muttered. Earl wasn’t anything special, orc-wise anyway. He was tall, square-jawed, thick and well-toned with hairy arms, chest and belly. He was graying a bit, which showed along his temples and down the center of his chest.
But it was that cock of his!
You glanced at his cock and then back at his face. “Well, if you’d like, I can leave you alone to take care of yourself. We can then finish the pictures.”
He swallowed hard as his eyes tried to avoid yours.
You then took off your glasses. “Or I could help you.”
His eyes lifted, face changing colors. His jaw dropped slightly. “What? Are you sure? I mean-” Earl shifted, alluding to his size.
“I told you, I’ve seen just about everything.” You unbuttoned your top slowly, letting the curve of your breasts appear, the lace of your bra. “Done most of them, too.”
His cock was practically trembling. He was growing more and more excited. “Really?” He was breathless.
You smirked, opening your blouse to reveal the sheer lace of your bra, the top of your soft belly over your shirt. “Like I said. There is nothing to be ashamed of here.” You knelt down on the floor before Earl, wrapping the measuring tape back around his cock. He shuddered, moving back to brace against the white wall.
“You’re a first. I will admit.” You licked your lips. “I've never had one this big before.” You tightened the tape, tugging him closer to your lips. You lapped your tongue over the slit, tasting him again. He was going to be a green apple sucker.
“Miss oh-” he gasped, pressing back into the wall as your lips circled him. He would make your jaw ache, but that was alright. You took him as deep into your mouth as you thought possible.
“Wait! Wait!” His shuddering hand clasped the back of your head.
You didn’t wait. You took, bobbing your head and using the measuring tape to hold him in place. What a sensation! The head of his cock almost choked you, which made you salivate more. His sweetness spread all around your mouth.
“Miss,” Earl was wheezing. “I’m gonna come!”
Do it, you dared him with your eyes. You could take it. Come on, come for me, fill my throat, you thought. You wanted this, didn’t you? To fuck me? Am I your type, Earl?
He was whimpering and moaning, sounding so sweet and pathetic. His back arched, pushing his hips forward and thrusting his cock further into your throat. He was thick, and that wasn’t just his girth. His semen was syrupy and warm. It spilled out the side of your mouth, and Earl pulled from you.
His load dribbled from your lips and onto your breasts. Ah yes, the magnificent orc load. Not as much as a minotaur, but way more than a gnoll. It was satisfying to take care of such a magnificent beast as his cock.
“Feel better?” You stood, going for the tissue box again. “You’ll for sure be in high demand. I can-” Earl was behind you. He grabbed your hips and forced your ass against his groin. He was still rock hard!
“Oh! One of those!” Your laugh came out nervous. “If you give me a second, I can get my office ready for-” Earl pulled your skirt down. His hand then went between your thighs, pressing into your panties to find your core soaking wet.
“Ah! Ha ha!” You panted as his fingers thrust into you, pushing your panties with them. “Earl, that’s quite rough.” Not that you minded.
Earl licked your neck and nipped your ear. His free hand grasped your breast, pinching and fondling the nipple. His fingers sank deeper, curling and playing you like an instrument.
You grasped the edge of the prop table, gasping for breath as he found your weak point. Your knees were shaking, and it was becoming hard to stand in those heels.
“Can I have a second?” You panted. “I need to situate myself. I need to-” Earl bent you over the table, lifting your hips until your mound was flush with his chin. You yelped, stretching out your arms to grab onto the opposite edge of the table for balance.
“Sorry, Miss, but-” Earl’s tongue lapped over your sopping panties. The heat of his breath tickled, arousing you even more. Everything was warm, growing hotter by the second.
“It’s okay,” you grunted. “Happy to um help.” You got that bobbing in water feeling. Warm all over, body free and limp, floating in the great expanse.
“You taste so good,” Earl growled at you. He pushed your panties aside, thrusting his tongue into you. “I haven’t had pussy in so long!”
Your lashes fluttered, and you couldn’t quite form words. His finger tapped against your needy clit, stoking it with more fire. “Oh muh gud,” you choked out.
He buried himself deeper between your thighs. Tongue, fingers, vibrating snarls. He would not let you go. It didn’t matter; you will sacrifice the time.
“You’re going to come for me.” Your chubby thighs muffled Earl’s voice. “Do it. Come.”
He didn’t even need to ask. The rumbling of his demands sent you over the waterfall, bobbing, swaying, crashing into a million pieces at the bottom.
“Fuck! Fuck you! Fucking orc! Oh, fuck!” You cried out, sounding between pissed and pained. But neither was the case.
Earl chuckled, setting you back down. He stepped aside, watching, waiting to see what you would do.
“Lay down!” You commanded, pushing your hair out of your face.
He did as commanded. Dick sat straight up like a sundial.
You pushed off your panties and tossed your bra aside. You gathered up your hair, tying it up and away from your face. As you walked towards him, you kicked off your shoes.
You studied him, thinking about the best way to approach this. Oh well, you thought, I’m just going to dive in.
You straddled him, kissing him, licking his lips, sucking his tongue. You rubbed against him, leaving a wet trail on his belly. His hands stroked your back, grasping at you.
You sat up, easing backwards until his cock pressed against your ass. “I’ll tell you when to move again. Got it, Earl?” You tapped your finger to your lips. “Be good.” You sat up a bit, holding his cock in place so you could spear yourself on him.
Slowly. Slowly. You coaxed yourself. You’ve never taken something this big before. How this will go is something you can’t know. Although if you could take two Minotaur, you could do anything.
“Oh, fuck! Oh, fuck!” Earl was surging as he tried to stay still. He was breathing hard, chest falling up and down rapidly.
“How long has it been?” You teased. “Hmm? What was the last pussy you got to fuck?” You licked your lips, still tasting his sweetness. “Never? Maybe once?”
His eyes shut tight. “A few times. Ah! But I never got to come!”
A little more. Steady! You pressed a hand against his chest. “What have you done since?” You bit your lip. He was filling you to the max! Could you even take anymore?
“Special cocksleeve,” he whimpered.
“Poor thing.” You moaned. “Well, open your eyes now.”
Earl’s dark brown eyes fluttered, seeing you were fully upon him. If you didn’t have such a belly, you might have been able to see him bulging inside you.
“Oh, fuck!” Earl gasped, throwing spittle from his lips.
“You won’t need that cock sleeve for much longer. I can promise you that.” You shifted your hips, grinding him deep inside you. Fuck, he was deep! Was this dangerous?
Earl was struggling to remain still. He was twitching all over.
“I know plenty of girls like me,” you giggled. “Queens who take pride in being able to take monster cocks with ease.”
Earl couldn’t speak. He was jerky and unfocused. His mind was between your thighs and up inside you.
“Boy, do you feel good though!” You gasped. “I almost hate to share. But a guy like you? You need to be shared to get all the sex you deserve.” You patted his cheek. “Now fuck me.”
Obliteration came to mind as Earl grabbed you, holding you down upon him while he shook his hips from below. You saw stars, no; you saw the bright white light at the end of a long tunnel. Was he fucking you to death? Could that happen?
At one point he stood up, pressing you against the wall. He thrust upwards inside you, growling and whining the whole time. Poor thing, desperate to fuck but unable to perform. Until now, at least. Even with no sexual skills, he knew where to drive.
Somewhere in time, he stood before the mirror, holding your legs to show you just how you took him. His shaft made your lips stretch wide open, your plump vulva overflowing. His massive sack was dripping with your wetness. You watched yourself bouncing on him. Great green cock disappearing and reappearing before you.
Your back was against the table, and Earl was on top of you. Deep thrusts had long shaken the good sense out of you. You may have to take the next day off. How long had it been? You hadn’t kept track of time.
“I’m coming,” Earl’s voice was tight.
You whimpered, unable to make a sound beyond nonverbal grunts and wheezes.
His body tensed, sweat glistening on his brow. He clenched his jaw, thrusting his tusks forward. “I’m gonna come! Oh fuck! You’re making me come!”
Yes, he was doing the same to you. Another rush of heat and power toppled you, throwing you into the currents and back down that waterfall. Something warm splattered against your face, your breasts, your belly. More and more of it coated you until Earl dropped to his knees on the floor. His head rested against your knee. His hot breath pelted onto your shin.
You reached down to make sure your vagina was still there. Most of it was. You laid back, breathing, trying to catch up with the flow of time.
“Oh, my god! I’m so sorry! I’m so sorry!” Earl was hurriedly darting around the room, trying to find something. “Please don’t be mad at me! I didn’t mean to go so hard.”
You braced yourself on the table, lapping his seed off your lips. You wiped more away before it got into your eye. He made a mess of you, that’s for sure.
Earl was using his shirt to wipe you up. “I’m so sorry, Miss.”
You grinned. “Don’t be.” You pulled him in for a kiss, lapping his lips and up his tusks. “I had a lot of fun with you. And never apologize for a good time. You had fun, right?” You pressed up against him.
Earl’s eyes were wide and shining.
“Let me tell you what.” You stood up, bad idea, your legs almost gave out from under you. “Can you hand me my tablet?”
Earl nodded, rushing over to get it and then place it in your hands. You tapped around the screen, trying to keep from tipping over. “I have a couple of friends I wouldn’t mind introducing you to. Great girls, eager for a challenge. How about I set up a dinner party so you can meet them?”
His flushed face changed color again. “I um. Well…what would…should I bring anything?” he stepped towards you again. “Wine? Maybe some fancy dessert?”
You giggled. “Just bring yourself. That’s all the girls really want.” You were already sending out a message to a group chat. “This is a special service, let’s just say.”
Earl was still fidgeting. He had done all that, and he was suddenly shy again. “Well, uh…thank you, Miss! People really recommended your services. I can see now they were underselling it.”
“Oh, anytime. Really.” You looked over his profile. “I’ll wait to post your profile after the dinner party. You may meet a lucky girl there.”
“Thank you! Thank you!” Earl was nodding his head in excitement.
“Thank me once I’ve done my actual job. Half of the bill will also do.” You said, holding out your tablet so he could make payment.
“Yes, of course!” Earl reached for his pants folded neatly by the photography screen.
“I’ll contact you once I get the dinner party set up. You have my card should you need anything from me in the meantime.”
“Yes, of course.” His confidence was up, which is really what he needed. He practically skipped down the street he was so happy.
Your assistant came in after Earl had left. “Oh, my!” she gasped. “What happened to you?” She went to the closet, taking out a towel and a bottle of water.
You took a gulp of the water. “Just work.”
Your secretary happily mopped you up with the towel. “Are you going to take on your next client?”
“I need a moment,” you huffed. “Can you take care of it?”
Your secretary nodded excitedly. “Of course!” She was eager to help with interviews. Part of the reason you chose her. “I’ll get this place cleaned up in a jiff! You rest now, boss. Leave everything to me.”
You guzzled more water and sighed. “If there’s a way to move around appointments tomorrow, let me know.” You picked up your clothes and went into your office. Using your tablet, you shut all the blinds and dimmed the lights. Laying back on the sofa, you let your body sink down, down, down.
“Oh my god that was fucking stupid” you muttered. The post nut clarity was hitting. You need more than a nap to recover from that matchmaking interview. If you could even walk after the nap.
