Chapter 17: The Vampire Pirate's Daughter by Lynette Ferreira
I look at him puzzled, but not caring. I just want to get in there and I want to drink. I open my door and get out of the car at the same time as Ethan. He walks to me where I am standing in front of the car and smiling, he softly takes my arm in his hand.
We walk in through the front door, which is weird. A dim thought at the back of my mind warns me something is not right, but it is hazy. The only thing on my mind in vibrant, luminous colours is my need to feed. He leads me to the basement, and we walk down the stairs silently. When we are down in the basement, Ethan’s hand around my arm suddenly tightens and with a snarl, he shoves me forward. This is unexpected and I stumble ahead.
As I turn back to him, the question on my lips, I hear him slam the heavy metal door closed between us and I hear a bolt slide into a lock.
Bewildered I look around me and wonder what on earth is happening. What is Ethan doing? I bang on the door frantically, screaming his name.
He does not reply, and I hear him running back up the stairs. After what feels like an eternity, I turn away from the door and walk into the room. It is unfurnished, so I sink down onto the floor in the back corner of the dark room. My stomach aches and I wrap my arms around it tightly. I trusted Ethan impeccably, and because my hunger was so overwhelming, I could not think of anything else. Briefly, I consider that I have known him for so long, who could have foreseen this. I cannot even wonder why he is doing this to me because I feel my body start to shake. It is not a shiver or a tremble, but an internal quiver.
I HEAR HIM coming down the stairs and I stand up hurriedly. I rush to the door.
He yells from the other side, “Step back, Susanna. I am serious!”
He is much older than I am and thus much stronger, but I am sure I could overwhelm him. I sense him waiting at the door listening for any sounds from inside the room and then he slides open a little hatch in the door. He pushes a tray through the hatch slowly and I notice a glass balanced on the tray. It is a Bloody Vladimir—our interpretation of a Bloody Mary.
Moving forward, the smell of the blood in the drink is pungent. I lift the glass to my mouth, and I feel the glass clink against my incisors. I swallow fast and eagerly, then put the empty glass back onto the tray and after he pulls the tray back through the hatch, he closes it. Desperately, I ask, “Ethan, what games are you playing?”
“You and your happy little family are working on my nerves.” I shake my head disbelievingly while he continues, “I want what Shayne has and even if I have to kill you one by one, I will get it.”
Flabbergasted I struggle to stifle an absurd laugh. “Shayne and Amanda will look for me and you know they will find me.” I scream, “They will kill you!”
He laughs sadistically. “I am ready, and they will not live to tell the tale. You have treated me with disdain long enough as if I am beneath your standing. I will now show you who the better of the two of us are, and I am sick of my community looking down upon me.” I hear him walk away.
There are no windows in the dark, dank room and I calculate the day by the number of times a glass of blood is shoved through the hatch in the door – breakfast, lunch and supper.
I cannot be sure, but I imagine it has been a week and I can hear a commotion coming from upstairs. I hear furniture scraping across the floor. Suddenly a thud reverberates through the house and then everything is silent again. I wonder if it is only my mind playing tricks with me and there really was no noise after all. Still, I wait with nervous anticipation because it could have been Shayne and Amanda coming to my rescue. Later, though, I hear the hatch open and a glass with the crimson liquid is pushed through it.
I ask desperately, “Ethan, please. I’ll give you anything. Just tell me what is going on. Please let me go.”
I hear a gruff voice; a voice I do not recognise. “Ethan is not here.”
“Where is he?”
“Gone.”
“Who are you?”
He replies hesitantly, “Juan.”
I plead, “Juan, please let me go, I promise I will give you anything you want. I have money.”
“I do not need money.” I hear a faint French accent.
“Are you French?” I ask hopefully. “I am French too, I have an old château. It is in disrepair now, but I will sign it over to you if you let me go.” I whisper softly, but I know he can hear me, “Please.”
I sense him hesitate, but then he turns away from the door and the hatch falls into place loudly. Despondently I wonder why Shayne and Amanda have not come to fetch me yet. Perhaps they have contacted friends and are planning on the best action to take. Maybe they cannot find me. I behaved like a spoilt brat the day before Ethan kidnapped me and maybe now they are happy to be rid of me.
I sit down in the corner across from the door. Sinking my head onto my folded arms across my pulled-up knees, I close my eyes miserably.
Continue reading Chapter 18/23
Comments
Post a Comment