Struck (A Vampire Novel) ✔

Thirty-One

"Master McElroy is ready to receive you, Master Bryant," The woman announced, glancing up to glare at me. "And your... guest." I blinked at her, taking in her gorgeous features. All I saw was wavy raven hair, angry cocoa eyes, and silky ivory skin before she was turning away and disappearing in the distance.

Jacobi moved us to follow her, appearing at ease as if we weren't on someone else's territory. But I was silly to think he'd be any tenser than he usually was. How often did his status require him to enter someone's territory? How long had he been a Master of his own territory? I looked at him carefully as he led us to this other Master. I couldn't tell how old he was based on looking at him. Obviously, as a vampire, he didn't age physically. I would have placed his human age as being around 25-30 years old when he was turned, but I couldn't be certain.

I didn't notice when we were suddenly walking through a set of doors and in front of a new audience until Jacobi froze. I slowly moved my gaze from his form to the scene around us and a cry immediately escaped my throat. There were dead women and men everywhere. Their blood painted the floors and the furniture. Wounds were gaping at their necks and a glance at the vampires standing nearby made it clear just who had ended those lives.

I tried to stumble back, as though by retreating I could pretend I'd never seen those dead bodies spread helplessly around me. Jacobi still had his grip on my arm, but I tried to pull myself from him in utter terror. He abruptly released my arm, but instead grasped my face in his hands to pull my eyes to his. I felt nauseous, my fear thick in my stomach and wanting its own type of release. Tears were burning my eyes, but even with the images of death staining my vision, I could still see Jacobi through them.

"Calm, Elysia, calm down," He called to me carefully. I reached up to grab his hands, wanting to throw him off of me and make a run for it, but feeling myself strangely beginning to gain my senses under his stare.

"How can you be so calm?" I whispered to him, again forgetting that any vampire could easily hear the words leaving my mouth.

"Now isn't the time," Jacobi told me, "Don't look at them." I knew he was talking about the dead humans on the floor. When he turned away, I kept my eyes on his form, refusing to look around in fear of losing my senses due to all the death around me. How long ago was it that my mother became one of those lifeless corpses? And even then the thought of seeing that empty shell struck fear through me. Now I was surrounded by their death. It felt like some sort of divine revenge.

I jumped when a burst of laughter erupted on the other side of the room.

"Surely that isn't the girl your Kindred was talking about," The voice announced, his voice booming around the room. I carefully moved my eyes from Jacobi to the location of the voice, avoiding the blurry death in my peripheral vision. The room reminded me of something like a throne room, where in the front center of the room was a large chair with smaller seats on either side of it.

Aveline, Xander, Corentine, and Wyatt were standing to the right side looking rather uncomfortable but keeping their expressions pleasant. The only one who couldn't seem to keep up appearances was Xander, who I noted looked just short of lifeless. I had a sudden urge to go to him and take him from here, where the humans he no doubt rounded up had been mercilessly slaughtered. I knew he would feel guilty about it. So long he had been trying to avoid the terror that was Vincent's nature and now he would feel their deaths as though he had done it himself.

In the chairs sat a few strangers. The woman who had led us here sat on the right side chair, leaning towards the center which I would call the throne. Another woman was seated on the left side, but I had to look twice because I noticed she wasn't just sitting in the chair. Her arms and legs were shackled to the seat. I felt strongly drawn to her as though she were... family. I tilted my head, moving my eyes from her shackles to her face where her own eyes were watching me openly.