AMBW historical plot. Set in 1815. London. Regency England. Zadie never expected to find a beast that consumes the blood of humans in the lower cellar of her master's manor. In getting to know him and in falling in love with him, she begins to wond...
** I didn't realize in writing that this is only like three pages of my word document lol. Think of this as aaaaa filler??*
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four.
"Zadie? Hello? Zadie, I'm talkin to you." Caught in a reverie, she started and blinked some, eyes focusing on Anne.
"Lady Nolan wishes us to go into the town to fetch tonight's meal."
"Ah...r-right."
"What's gotten into you?"
"It's nothing. Really."
"You're not actin' like yeself and I fer one 'ave noticed."
"I'm fine. Just tired." She spoke softly, eyes downcast. The bright red haired woman twisted up her mouth in disbelief. Anne was one of the only white girls in their employment that didn't seem to care that she was different. She told her many a time that they were more alike than not... who was she to judge someone based on mere color? She'd treated her with nothing but equality and respect... even friendship dare she say it.
"Bollocks. I don't believe a word o'it. But wha'evr. Let's head out yeah?"
"Sure." Having linked arms with her, she pulled her ahead, her feet not really desiring the go. Taking a deep breath, she sucked in air and forced herself to be present. As much as she could. There was work to be done. Her personal thoughts would have to wait.
Into the town they traveled, a motley lot of them until they retrieved all of the items requested. Upon return, a fine Coach stood docked by the entry, drawing their attention.
"What a fine carriage? I wonder who they are hosting tonight."
"By the looks of it someone extremely wealthy."
"Why haven't you tried your hand at seducing Lord Nolan Therese?" The dark haired woman pursed her lips.
"That damned wife of his. I have more endowment than she could ever dream of. He probably only married her for the connections."
"She's quite pretty though Lady Nolan."
"Fair creamy skin, nice slim neck. Ravishing dark tresses. Hell, if I were a man I'd marry her just for the looks alone."
"Oh hush would you." The chatter of the excited maids around her helped her be able to drown it all out. They talked so excitedly and yet she was sitting in her own pool of deep despair and anguish. It hadn't healed yet. Or at least it felt like it hadn't. The small cut on the underside of her tongue. It felt like the biggest most painful lump and it gave her such grief when drinking or eating.
"Zadie...you look like you're going to cry love. Wot's the matta wi' ye?" Anne asked, lifting an arm to drape across her shoulder. Shaking her head she bit into her lip as the carriage drew them closer to the backside of the house. Nothing would be right. Nothing would be right until she sorted this 'matter' out.
***
Warm. Fresh. Red. Licking his lips, he felt himself shiver with delight. It had been quite a while since his last feed and already he wanted...needed more. Lifting a slim pale wrist, he pressed his lips to the still warm skin. And soon he bit down into her veins. It was unfortunate that the poor girl had to meet her end this way. She was actually one of the nicer ones. But alas, he needed this. Most severely. The fragility of the human never ceased to amaze him.
It had taken him years to get to a point where he could maturely exist as one of them. Having been like that of a child, the budding aggressively violent nature took over and he was known to kill at a moment's notice. But thank God for maturity. He was no longer the fledging child rebellious to his sire and those else of his kind. Now, he understood the lessons. He understood things differently. He had finally become worthy to be called Sire of Nations. A title given with no explanation of the gravity, the weight behind it. Given to a man-child, a boy with no self control or care, thrilled in being able to live as long as he saw fit. What a fool he had been.
The woman laying at his feet croaked weakly, one last attempt at grasping life. He detached from her wrist and lifted up on his knees. Gathering as much of her as he could given the bars, he pulled her up as far as he could in a cradling manner. Slipping fingers into her hair, he pulled her neck closer.
"Thank you for your sacrifice. I will honor you with a quick death." The language of his kind flowed freely and with ease. A pale blue glow lit in his eyes and he without another word sank down into her with his teeth, blood spilling forth into his awaiting mouth with fervor. She was silent and soon grew limp as he drank to his satisfaction. Priding himself in the clean kill, he detached from her neck and with care licked at the puncture wounds.
"Thank you." He whispered before letting her down gently. With renewed energy, he stood, lifting hands to the bars. Now, he'd be able to put his plan into action.
***
It was all a blur. Everything from afternoon tea to dinner. It was as if her mind had decided to clock out after breakfast and she existed in this smokeless fog the rest of the day. Even the day itself soon turned to night and she'd been graced with permission to go to bed early due to her lack of attention. As she sat at her small vanity, gifted to her secretly of course by Lord Nolan, she slowly began to take the pins out of her maid cap. She stared at herself in the mirror as her fingers began to unravel the braids she'd neatly kept tucked underneath. One by one the hair came undone and tears started to form in her eyes. Almost wildly, she began to tear the hair apart until a disheveled unraveled mess looked back at her. Breathing heavily, she closed her eyes and let the tears slip down her cheeks. This was too much. All of it. It was too much for her. She couldn't be made to endure much more. That she was most certain.
When she'd dressed for bed, she curled up into a ball on her bed. Mind running a thousand miles a minute, she laid awake. The strangest thing started up in her belly. Curiosity. She couldn't stop thinking suddenly about the door with the bolt. It made her want to look. What was that bastard hiding behind there so well? None of the other doors had the same mechanism. It was going to bug her. Go to bed Zadie. Don't poke more trouble. But it was the inward desire to rebel that drew her up and feet into slippers. A single candle lit and quiet footsteps down the hall. She would only be a moment. And then she'd be to bed and figure out how to make an escape.
So quiet it was eerie and fear lingered at the back of her neck at the chance of being caught. Go. Do it. Licking her lips, she slowly pressed on until she came to the passageway that had been as of late her own personal hell. He hadn't called on her yet. But she knew the time was coming. Humiliating her in front of strange men wasn't enough. Baring her forcibly wasn't enough. No, it would never be enough until she became his own personal doll, one to toy and play with as he liked. Before that happened, she would die. Creeping down the large stone stairs, she tried not to allow the shadow play of the light on the walls to mess with her mind. Almost there....just a bit more now.
A large black bolt appeared and she felt a rush of excitement. Lifting a hand, she went to unlatch it only to find the door mysteriously unlatched. Knitting her eyebrows together, she gulped, swallowing hard before pressing her shaky hand flat against the thick wooden door. Praying silently, she began to push the door open.
A/N: Poor Zad. I feel for her so deeply. I will make sure that she gets recompense. And alas, our two babies are about to finally meet. Whew. ONWARD I SAY LOL. *corny british accent* (please don't come for me...) LOL.
