Chapter 3
For two whole days, Cecil was nowhere to be seen.
The floating words said the Vampire Council still hadn't left.
They said he'd been busy entertaining guests, keeping watch all night, and dealing with those impossible Elders.
They said he'd stood outside my door night after night, only leaving when the sun came up.
I curled up on the couch by myself and stuck my feet in the wash basin.
I left them soaking there, even after the water had gone completely cold.
[What's she waiting for? In a few days, she'll be the main course on the Council's dinner table.]
[Wasn't she scared he'd sacrifice her? Now she's thinking about him? She's hopeless.]
I didn't know.
The floating words kept popping up, saying he was going to drain me dry and serve me up at the Vampire Council's feast.
I was terrified.
But when he wasn't here, I was more scared.
By the third day, I couldn't take it anymore. I had to go find him myself.
The castle was enormous. I'd lived here for six years, but I'd never walked those halls alone.
Usually, Cecil was either carrying me in his arms or holding my hand.
I hurried through the grand hall and headed for the east corridor.
That led to the tower, the one I'd been to before. I wanted to get another look at the land outside.
Then suddenly, I found someone standing right at the corner.
It was a man in a black robe, with deep-set features and eyes the color of blood.
His gaze lingered greedily on me as he slowly ran his tongue across his lower lip.
I froze in place.
[An Elder from the Vampire Council! Why did he sneak over here?]
[He's doing it on purpose. They sent Cecil away. These old creeps want to have a taste of her early.]
[You know how vampires taste blood? They don't drink right away. They breathe it in first, let the scent soak in, and finally sink their teeth in.]
The man walked toward me.
I backed away until my shoulders hit the wall.
"So you're the human Cecil's been keeping?" His voice was low, thick with barely contained hunger.
I didn't say a word. My legs were shaking, but I kept my chin up.
"Not bad-looking," he said.
He reached out, his cold fingers gripping my chin and tilting it up. "I'll bet your blood tastes good, too. Cecil's taken good care of you these past six years."
[Did you notice? His index finger is finding your pulse, checking how strong it is. He's figuring out the best moment to bite.]
[The last time an Elder touched someone like that was thirty years ago. After he drained every drop, he left the body hanging at the castle gates for three days before Cecil finally had someone take it down.]
I bit my lip.
I wanted to snap at him, to scream in his face.
But his fingers tightened, squeezing my chin so hard that it hurt.
He leaned in, nostrils flaring, his icy breath chilling the skin on my neck.
Then his expression changed.
His eyes widened, and his hand jerked back as if he'd been burned. He stumbled a few steps away.
"You—" He never got to finish.
A hand reached out from behind and grabbed the back of his neck.
It was Cecil. The air around us instantly turned freezing cold.
His lips pressed into a thin line, his jaw clenched tight.
The man thrashed in the air, kicking and flailing.
But Cecil's grip didn't move an inch.
"Cecil!" the man croaked, his voice rough. "I'm from the Council."
"I know who you are," Cecil said, his eyes swirling with dark red.
"But you don't get to touch her," he declared.