Nectar: DD Prince (31 page)

There was a chuckle from Andre who leaned over and sank teeth into Julia’s right breast. Rebecca, who’d been seated on Andre’s other side got up and walked over, removed her sunglasses, and bit into Julia’s left shoulder.

Kyla sat, mortified, horrified, and paralyzed. It was beyond bizarre to watch anyone, let alone a woman suck blood out of someone’s body. Rebecca looked like she was barely out of her teens and had flawless porcelain white skin and long reddish eyelashes. She looked like the epitome of innocence. Now here she was with fangs sunk into Julia. Kyla’s hands nervously fidgeted in her lap. She held her hands tight, hoping to stop her fidgeting from drawing attention to herself. Andre and Rebecca finally let go of Julia and wiped their mouths on linen napkins. Julia seemed completely unaffected. Kyla wondered briefly if about Julia’s huge fake boobs and whether or not Andre might’ve punctured one. They looked fine.

Kyla had been petrified they’d be looking to her for a reaction but neither even glanced in her direction. Andre started talking to Sam about something about traffic and airports or something totally inconsequential to Kyla. She tried to stare past Julia toward Esther who was shuffling around the table, clearing plates and offering everyone more coffee, more food, and it was as if all was normal. Kyla tried to focus on Esther’s movements so she had somewhere to look. The woman looked like an ordinary housekeeper, not robotic, not frightened.

What the heck was a functional trance?
Obviously it made it not weird to pour breakfast guests a pitcher of blood.  Were all the blood drive calls that went out due to thirsty vampires who depleted the stock at the Red Cross?

Tristan’s phone buzzed on the table between them. It startled Kyla a little and she saw his eyes dart to her. No one else’s eyes were on her, thankfully. He answered it and stepped just a few steps away from the group but his conversation could be heard clearly.

“Yeah?

What!?

Are you kidding me? Again?

I’d suggest you cover it up, then. I don’t want to hear from you until then. I’ll send someone but this has got to be--- no, I don’t want to hear it. Apologies are getting a little old at this point. Whatever. Just deal with it, got it? Be thorough this time! Later.”

His voice was menacing and she pitied the person on the other end of the line. He dialed another number,

“Frankie is up to his old habits again. Take care of it, will ya?

He’s done…

No. Done done. End him.”

He strode back over to the table and tossed his phone on the table, looking annoyed. All eyes, other than Julia’s and Kyla’s, were on him briefly at the outburst. After a beat everyone resumed eating and /or talking.

“Need me to run interference?” Sam asked.

Tristan waved dismissively and sipped his coffee, “It’s under control. Leonard is handling it.”

Kyla’s blood ran cold. Was he seriously ordering someone’s death?  Was this the same guy who stared into her eyes and told her he loved her? Was this the same guy who held her, making her feel safer than she’d ever felt? The guy whose gorgeous eyes twinkled and whose dimples melted her into a puddle of goo?  She thought back to the fact that every other time the phone had rang since she’d been here he’d left the room. Did someone’s life end each time that phone rang?

Then she thought back to the fact that this was the guy who held her against her will, who didn’t take no for an answer in bed, who had shackled her to a bed for days, who’d stolen blood from her and who had pumped her system with birth control. He’d told her he was a bad guy and who’d said he’d done things he never wanted her to know. Stuff like this? Sourness rose in her throat.

She tried her hardest to stay frozen and not show anything because she knew her life depended on it but she could feel her blood pressure rising and felt pain in her chest, bruising sorrow. She took a deeper-than-she-meant-to breath and caught Tristan eyeing her from the corner of her eye.

He rose to his feet, “Kyla. Come,” he stood and held out his hand. His eyes were intent on her, imploring her not to hesitate. She stood up and tried to do it without shaking and took his hand.

“Excuse me everyone; time for
my
breakfast.” He grabbed his phone from the table and stuffed it in his pocket.

“Bon Apetit,” she heard Sam say as she followed Tristan, trying hard to keep her knees from knocking together. They walked past Esther, who was busily cleaning the kitchen. Tristan said, “Esther, put my guests in a guest room in the south wing.”

“Yes, Sir,” was the reply. Then Kyla followed him upstairs to the master suite.

When the door to the bedroom clicked shut Kyla instantly broke out into a cold sweat and started trembling and hyperventilating. Tristan grabbed her and pulled her tight to him, “You did fine, baby…”

“Nnnno…” she backed up. She felt repulsion crawl up her spine, “No…”

His expression dropped. He held out his hand, reaching for hers.

“Fuck no!” she shouted and bolted into the bathroom and slammed the door. It felt good to be alone, to be able to breathe freely. It was like she’d had her breath held tight for the last half an hour or however long it had been since Andre and Rebecca had arrived. She put the lid down on the toilet and sat on it and buried her face in her hands. She heard the door open.

“Leave me alone, please. I just wanna be alone.”

“I know that was hard for you. You did okay. Those two just showed up unexpectedly but it was good practise. We’re gonna be faced with the unexpected. I need you to hold it together for me.”

“Leave me alone for a minute. Please!”

“How much time do we really have to spend in the bathroom with you mad at me?”

“This is the only place I can fucking go! Go, Tristan. Please leave me alone. Go, please.”

He crouched in front of her, “You’ve gotta settle down, Kyla. Look at me. You can’t keep hiding in here from me. We have to face things together.”

She didn’t move. He gently moved her hands away from her face. She fully expected to see black pupils and nothing else but there they were, the blue eyes that she could swim in. He squeezed her hands reassuringly. She looked down at his strong hands holding hers. Confusion washed over her.

“I need you to settle down. You can’t shout like that. Someone could hear. Come. Snuggle with me.”

“No. Just. Go. I’m fine.”

“Come on, please. I need my own head to stay on straight and I can’t do that if you’re like this. Come snuggle,” he tugged her hand and led her back to the bed and flopped down and pulled her close.

He held her tight. She didn’t hold him back, just laid there sobbing for a good ten minutes. Finally, she got it out of her system and stayed there, shuddering every few moments as she recovered. Tristan kept rubbing her back and kissed her forehead.

“I know, baby. It’s going to be okay,” he whispered.

“How?”

“I’ll figure it out.”

“No. How - how could you? You ordered someone’s death?”

He stared blankly at her.

“You said, ‘I didn’t end him’ after that whole Joe thing and then on the phone you said, ‘end him.’ Did you think I wouldn’t know what that meant? Or is it that you just didn’t care.”

“Stop. I told you that this road would be bumpy. Don’t you remember everything I said to you last night? Please don’t get caught up with that stuff. You don’t know the whole story from hearing a few words of my conversation. And besides that, I have a part to play right now; try to remember that. And if I don’t play my part it’ll be bad. For both of us.”

She tried to pull away but he wouldn’t let her so she put her head back down on his chest and closed her eyes, holding her body stiffly. He ran his fingers through her hair with one hand and caressed her back with the other. He was trying to make her melt into him, she knew it. She wouldn’t. She couldn’t.  Playing a part didn’t have to require ordering death, though, right? Surely he could punish someone without killing them, couldn’t he? Maybe he had much farther to go to being anything remotely resembling human than Kyla had thought.

He laid there with her for ages, holding her, while she stared off into space. After a while she sat up but didn’t look at him, “You can go. I’m fine.”

“You are
not
fine. I’m staying. I feel everything you’re feeling right now. I can’t leave you,” he pulled her back down onto his chest and held her close, touching his lips to the top of her head.

She laid there staring off into space some more, feeling numb.

A moment later she felt him draw in a breath and then he trailed his hands up and down her backside and tried to pull her pelvis closer. He was erect.

“Oh, no. No. Don’t,” she pleaded, eyes welling up with tears again, “Just don’t right now. I can’t do it, I really
really
can’t.”

He leaned forward and started to suck on her bottom lip. She placed her hands on his chest and glared at him. She shook her head slowly

“You don’t understand, Kyla. It wasn’t something done casually.”

“You didn’t tell someone to kill someone else for fucking up?”

“No, I did. But you don’t know
why
I did.”

“It doesn’t matter why. I can’t just be here fucking when someone is dying because you ordered it. The gap between our worlds is so big, Tristan, it’s too big to ---“

He let go of her before she could finish and rose to his feet holding his hands up in the air, his face had a “fuck this” look on it. She curled up and hugged the pillow. He looked down at her on the bed, curled in the fetal position, and looked like he was about to say something else but then changed his mind and left the room in a huff.

She was both shocked and relieved that he knew not to pursue sex with her right now. She wasn’t sure she could take it and was glad that he didn’t push the issue. If he’d tried to force it with her, she was pretty sure she’d shatter into a million pieces and wasn’t sure she’d be able to be put back together again.

She stripped and put on a pair of shorts and tank top with a built-in sports bra and turned the treadmill on. She ran and ran hard for 48 minutes with music blaring in her ears. Tristan had a great playlist and she ran like her life depended on it, like she’d somehow wind up finding the answers she needed on that treadmill. But as hard and as fast as she ran of course it didn’t take her anywhere.

As she was walking through the final minute of the cool-off period she yanked the ear buds out of her ears and reached for her water and that was when heard a vacuum cleaner behind her. She was filled with panic as she glanced over her shoulder and saw the woman dressed in a white blouse and gray skirt with salt and pepper hair pulled back into a tight bun. It was Esther; she was in the bedroom vacuuming the carpet, her back to Kyla at that moment as she was going in the other direction. Kyla felt like a zillion pine needles were trying to bore their way out of her skin. She almost fell off the treadmill from the shock. She didn’t know what to do so she trotted quickly into the bathroom.  She leaned against the closed bathroom door and tried to catch her breath. She twisted the lock.

A moment later the vacuum cleaner switched off and there was a knock at the door.

“Yeah?” Kyla was frantic but tried not to sound it.

“Sorry, Miss. I had knocked on the door several times but your earphones… they must have blocked the sound. I’m just going to change the bedding and I’ll be done.”

“Okay, thank you,” Kyla called out. She knew her voice must have been about 3 octaves higher than usual. She jumped into the shower and took the longest shower she had taken in eons, or maybe ever, hoping that by the time she was done, the woman would be gone. Kyla had no idea how to behave in front of Esther.
Wait, maybe I am in a functional trance?
She pushed the thought away.

Esther had already done the bathroom while Kyla was running, oblivious to her presence.  A new stack of plush red and black towels were on a shelf and a bouquet of fresh roses was on the vanity in a tall black vase.  Kyla’s gaze lingered on it, thinking back to her first day here. It was almost identical, in style, to the vase she had thumped Joe with.

She started to towel dry her hair and then the doorknob jiggled but didn’t budge as she’d locked it. Then she heard the lock click and the door swung open, hard. She gasped. But it was Tristan.

He was heaving, out of breath, and sweat-drenched.  He looked like he had been running, too. His eyes didn’t meet hers. His jaw was tight. He stripped out of grey jersey shorts then turned the shower back on and then she felt his eyes land on her. There was an intensity emanating from him that made her anxiety levels spike.

She looked at the floor, not wanting to meet his gaze.  Was he running because he was upset and frustrated, too? She took one step toward the door to vacate but he took a side step and blocked the door, then grabbed the hair towel from her hand and threw it on the vanity, still heaving. She stood still and squeezed her eyes shut and chewed her bottom lip. She could feel his eyes burning into her but didn’t want to look at them.

He reached for the towel she had around herself and snatched it off and then pulled her into the shower, under the stream, and against himself.