"Is this a test?" Aria asked as the five of us gathered around, staring dumbfounded at the king's fallen body.
Sabine had been the first to spring to her feet after he collapsed, kicking off her heels and sprinting down the stairs as fast as her tight red dress would allow.
The remaining four of us exchanged uncertain glances. What if Aria was right? It would explain all of the secrecy surrounding the challenge. But this seemed too bizarre and cruel to be a mere twist.
Katrina bent over and held two fingers to the king's neck.
"What are you doing? He's a vampire, he doesn't have a pulse!" Aria huffed. Katrina flushed, nervously yanking her hand away.
Not wanting to be useless, I knelt down and gingerly turned the king onto his back. A red blood stain bloomed like a macabre flower over his heart, staining his navy suit black. This can't be good.
Had he been shot? It would explain the strange cracking sound I heard before. I was sure that vampires couldn't die from mere gunshots, but the king's sudden collapse was not a good sign. I had to make sure.
I heard a sharp intake of breath behind me as I unbuttoned his shirt, revealing a deep puncture wound that was oozing blood. I recoiled immediately. A girl standing behind me shrieked.
"This can't be real," Aria stammered. "This is a test, right? He can't be dead!"
I was suddenly reminded of the king's strange desire for anonymity. Of how no photos of him existed. Supposedly it was to protect him from assassination by rebels or political rivals. Could this be the result of such an attempt?
The king was silent and still, blood seeping slowly out of his wound. Somehow I knew he wasn't dead, but he would be soon if none of us did anything. But how were any of us supposed vampire? The answer dawned on me and I suddenly felt queasy. I looked up at the three girls standing behind me, staring open-mouthed at the miserable sight of the king's prone body. The thought hadn't occurred to them. It would have to be me.
I tried to comfort myself with the fact that the king had once saved my life as I held my wrist to his mouth, wincing with the anticipation of pain. When none came, I frowned, drawing my shaking wrist away. He probably couldn't bite because he wasn't conscious.
"What are you doing?" Aria asked, her voice a hysterical whine.
"He needs blood," I muttered, gazing around frantically for something sharp. The broken champagne glass lay in a pile of wet shards at the king's feet. I grabbed the biggest piece, careful to avoid cutting myself, and held it up. "Anyone?"
Aria shook her head wildly, backing away. She wobbled over to the railing and began to heave. Genevieve and Katrina exchanged panicked glances. I waited, praying one of them would step forward and spare me from having to do it myself. Out of the corner of my eye, the king's wound continued to seep blood. He wouldn't have long, certainly not long enough for the three of us to make up our minds.
With trembling hands, I held out my own wrist and held the sharp point of the glass against the cluster of veins on my wrist. A tiny voice in my head continued to scream about what a terrible idea this was, but I couldn't listen to reason right now. Not when someone's life was on the line.
I took a deep breath and pressed the glass into my skin. Pain laced through my wrist, causing me to cry out. Ignoring the other girls' horrified gasps, I pressed harder until blood trickled out. I tossed the blood-covered glass aside, then held my wrist up to the king's mouth, squeezing with my other hand so that the blood dripped onto his tongue.
His lips stirred faintly against my skin. Relief washed over me, but was quickly squelched by the sharp sting of his fangs biting into my flesh. I yelped in surprise as his hand came up to grip mine, pinning my wrist to his mouth.
The king drank hungrily, shivering as something feverish overtook him. He opened his eyes and bore them into mine. They were bloodshot, frenzied and glowing with voracity. I recoiled, wanting to snatch my wrist back and run, but his hands and his teeth held me in place.
He's not human, I thought miserably. He had been so poised and in control of his nature up to this point, that I almost let myself forget.
Footsteps bounded up the stairs. I turned to see a guard and an unfamiliar man in a white boat captain uniform, Sabine trailing close behind. The guard held a small red cooler. They froze momentarily at the scene before them, then quickly regained their senses and sprinted into action. The guard put the cooler down and nodded to the captain. The two of them got down on their knees, the captain grabbing the king's shoulders. The guard knelt down next to me, placing his hand over my arm.
"Stay calm. This will probably hurt," he whispered to me. "On the count of three..."
The captain nodded, and when the guard counted off I braced myself. The guard yanked my hand away and I screamed as the king's fangs tore through my veins as he struggled to hold on. He growled, low and menacing, fighting the captain's restraining arms.
The guard hastily opened the red cooler, procuring a bag of thick red fluid from within. Blood. He tossed it at the king, who looked at it dumbly. After an imperceptible sniff of the air he grabbed the blood bag and tore into it. I turned away, unable to watch.
Someone held my bleeding arm and I turned to see the guard. He was pressing a damp white cloth to the bite mark on my wrist. The disinfectant caused a stinging pain in the two puncture holes. I hissed, gritting my teeth against the pain. The guard then wrapped a piece of gauze around my wrist.
"That should do until we can get you proper care," he said as he secured the bandage. He took hold of my good arm and helped me to my feet. My vision swam and I stumbled, nearly twisting my ankle. How much blood had the king taken from me?
"This evening is over," he announced. "Please go downstairs and wait while we take you back to shore."
The five of us shuffled off reluctantly, Aria wobbling miserably. Sabine stopped to pick up the shoes she discarded earlier when she ran for help. Before descending downstairs, I took one last glance in the king's direction. The guard and the captain were kneeling next to him, shielding him from sight. I blinked away the image of his red eyes, hoping I did the right thing tonight.
As the yacht came halfway toward shore, a smaller rescue boat approached us. It carried several guards, two medical personnel, and a cooler that no doubt had more blood. I watched from the dining room's floor length windows as the king was escorted aboard, barely able to stand. Once he was aboard the rescue boat sped away into the distance. I watched the trail it made in the water fade away with a helpless melancholy.
After we reached shore and were driven back to the palace. While the other girls were escorted back to the dressing room to change, I was escorted to a medical room in a previously inaccessible section of the basement.
A middle aged woman in a white lab coat waited for me there. The name plate on it read Dr. Swenson. She wore her graying brown hair in a sever bob and had a hooked, bird-like nose. After the guard escorting me explained the situation Dr. Swenson nodded, giving me a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes.
"That was quite brave of you, my dear. Please sit down," she gestured to the exam table at the back of the room.
I obeyed, smoothing my skirt over my knees as I sat down. There were several drops of blood on the purple fabric . Michael probably wouldn't be too happy, but I'm sure he'd forgive me considering the circumstances.
"Will I need antibiotics?" I asked the doctor, hoping to fill the sterile silence.
"No, dear," she said, her lilting voice managing to be both upbeat and dismissive.
She grabbed a blood bag from the chrome refrigerator in the corner, as well as as some wipes and a contraption made of surgical tubing. I flinched at the sight of a needle on one end of the tube. I'd been punctured with sharp objects too many times tonight.
"Relax, dear. I'm just going to give you a little transfusion. His majesty drained you quite a bit," she crooned.
Dr. Swenson attached the tubing to the blood bag and hung it over an IV stand. Then she tied a tourniquet just above my elbow and inserted the needle end into a vein on my forearm. The process wasn't as painful as I expected and I relaxed against the gurney, watching the blood flow through the tubing and into my body.
The doctor patted my hand reassuringly. She rose, strode over to the counter, and procured a syringe from one of the drawers. Opening the fridge again, she obtained a small glass bottle filled with dark red fluid. I frowned, wondering what it was.
"This should fix your wrist right up," Dr. Swenson said. She pierced the rubber stopper with the needle and drew a small amount of the fluid. Then she made her way back to me, heels clicking on the pristine white tile.
"What is it?" I asked nervously.
"Vampire blood, dear," she replied.
Before I could say anything else, she took my injured wrist with her free hand, tearing off the gauze and revealing the wound. Two deep puncture marks stared back at me, caked with dried blood. Dr. Swenson injected the vampire blood into my wrist. I watched with both horror and fascination as the wound slowly knit together.
"See? Good as before," she said, rubbing the dried blood off of my wrist with a moist towelette.
I stared at my freshly healed wrist, testing it. The pain was gone, as if it had never been. I've heard rumors of the healing properties in vampire blood but it was another thing entirely to experience the proof.
I looked up at Dr. Swenson, who smiled and quirked her eyebrow in response. "Rest up dear, you've had a long day," she said.
Lydia showed up late for breakfast, looking tired and groggy. She sat down next to me, gazing around dazedly before she spoke. There was a palpable tension in the room today. No doubt the news about last night had already reached the other girls.
"You heard about what happened, right?" I asked her, practically bouncing in my seat.
She nodded solemnly. "Do you know if the assassin was caught?"
"Don't know yet. I hope so," I said, shaking my head and wondering that myself. I didn't know what happened to the king after the rescue boat took him away.
"Are you OK?" she asked flatly. Her face looked worried. It was an unusual expression for her to wear. I was so used to Lydia always being cheerful and bubbly.
I looked down at my completely healed wrist. "Yeah, just shaken."
"I heard. What you did for the king. That was really... brave of you," she said. She turned away from me, her long red hair shielding her face, making her expression unreadable.
Before I could say anything else to Lydia, Melanie strode into the room. She made her way to her usual spot on the dais and straightened her jacket, looking a bit more flustered than usual. Her long blonde hair was down today, a noticeable change from her usual tight ponytail or immaculate bun.
"I'm sure you're all aware of what happened last night," she began. "In case you aren't, an attempt was made on His Majesty's life last night. His Majesty is fine now, but the would-be assassin has not yet been caught."
I watched as Lydia slumped back in her chair, breathing a sigh of relief. I didn't realize how concerned she was for the king's fate. I was relieved as well, knowing that giving the king my blood had not been in vain.
"Don't worry, his Majesty has his best people working their hardest to catch the perpetrator," Melanie continued. After a pause to let the words settle, she cleared her throat. "Despite these seemingly dire circumstances, the competition will continue as planned."
I blinked as a terse silence fell over the room. It hadn't even occurred to me that the competition might be cancelled, but the more my mind ruminated over the topic, the more it seemed to make sense. The king had just survived an assassination attempt. The assassin was still at large. He should be devoting his resources to finding the person responsible, not wasting his time on this frivolous pageant. Why was he letting it run?
"But what about His Majesty's health?" a girl from the black team asked.
"He's making a speedy recovery and should be fine by the time those of you left in the competition can expect to see him next," Melanie replied.
I turned to Lydia, who was gazing at me inscrutably. Was she jealous? Of me? I couldn't imagine why. Then again, I had given the king my blood. The other girls probably felt the act had given me an advantage. The king would no doubt agree. And Lydia, despite her friendly disposition, seemed to want to win.
"Eliminations will continue as planned. Which means two of you will be going home. Right now," Melanie said, pulling me out of my brief trance.
Her statement was met with several gasps. Only two? That was so low compared to the previous round's fifteen. Though I suppose it made sense. Our ranks were pretty thin now.
"Cassie Roden, Aria Irons, I'm sorry but you are eliminated from the competition," Melanie announced.
One from each group, I remarked numbly as I watched the two girls stand. Cassie was from Lydia's team. I knew little about her, other than she was a singer. I wasn't surprised to see Aria leave. She didn't demonstrate anything last night besides pointless flattery. Her weak stomach couldn't have helped her either. Though I had to wonder, if I hadn't given the king my blood, would I be in her place?
The two girls ruefully waved goodbye and walked out of the room. Once they were gone, Melanie made another announcement. "The eight of you are free to do whatever you please for the next two hours. Afterwards, meet back here where I will explain your next challenge."
Lydia slunk away before I could catch her. I was still surprised by how shaken she appeared from the previous night's events, especially since she wasn't even there. I had no idea what to do with myself until the next challenge's announcement, but I didn't want to intrude on her space.
Figuring I'd go swimming again, I went back up to my room to get my bathing suit. Though when I entered, I found the heavy curtains drawn, shrouding the room in darkness. I turned on the light and nearly jumped out of my skin when I saw him.
"Sorry. I didn't mean to startle you," said the king. He stood with his back to me, seeming to gaze intently at the curtains. Though I couldn't imagine what he saw in them.
"What are you doing here?" I asked, sounding far harsher than I intended, muttering a hasty "Your Highness" afterwards.
He turned around and I took in the sight of him. He wore similar attire to that night on the balcony - black slacks and a white shirt, the top two buttons loose and the sleeves rolled up to the elbows. His hair was a bit mussed but otherwise he looked the same as usual, although a bit paler. Melanie wasn't lying about his speedy recovery.
"I'd like to apologize for last night," the king began. "The whole affair was... embarrassing, to say the least." He laughed nervously, running a hand through his hair. I watched him silently, perturbed by this rare display of vulnerability.
"However," he said as he paced in front of the window, "If it weren't for you and your quick thinking, it would have been even more of a disaster. You saved my life, and for that you have my eternal gratitude."
"You're welcome," I stammered, unsure of how else to reply. Was it true? Would he really have died if I hadn't given him my blood?
"I just regret that you had to see me in such a state. Vampiric bloodlust is uh... well, it's not pretty," he rubbed the back of his neck, an oddly human gesture.
I shrugged. "I just did what anyone else would have done."
"You're so modest," he chuckled. A bright, genuine smile appeared on his face. He looked so vibrant in that moment, I could almost picture the young man he had once been.
"You saved my life once too," I admitted.
"But this is different. I merely talked you down from the ledge. You could have made that choice without my help. But last night — I would have died, and you risked your own blood to save me." The king cleared his throat and looked down at the ground solemnly. "I just wanted to thank you in person. What you did for me was invaluable. I intend to make it up to you as best I can." Then, with a single parting glance, he left the room. A shiver or electricity ran through me when he passed.
I sat down on the bed, staring glumly at the wall. The king owed me a debt. I had his favor. He owed me. This could either be my advantage, or my undoing.
[As always, thanks for supporting this story. <3]
[Edited for logic, s/o to @Deservepreseves for being smarter than me.]