I have never fainted before, but then again I've never been kidnapped before either so today must be a day of firsts for me.
As my self-awareness slowly resurfaces, I feel someone holding me.
When my eyelids flutter open I'm met by someone's dark brown gaze.
I stare up at Jacques for a few moments, my mind gradually rebooting.
"Well..." he says, pursing his lips. "That was unexpected."
"Est-elle morte?" I hear Perry call. Is she dead?
Jacques glances away from my dazed face.
"Non, elle est en vie," he replies before straightening up and throwing me over his shoulder. No, she's alive.
"Hey!" I protest, catching a glimpse of Sofie's shocked expression.
"Put me down!" I yell as he starts to stride towards the château.
Perry follows us, dragging drags my little cousin along with him whilst François leisurely strolls behind, hands in his pockets.
"Monsieur Jacques, que se passe t-il?" Mr Jacques, what is going on?
I hear a voice and strain my head to see a confused man wearing a butler's uniform hurrying towards us.
"Emmenez la voiture au garage, Frederick, et nettoyez le coffre," François says in a commanding voice, causing the puzzled look on the butler's face to turn into one of professionalism. Take the car to the garage, Frederick, and clean out the trunk.
"Oui, Votre Grâce," the man replies dutifully. "Tout de suite." Yes, Your Grace. Right away.
As I watch him hurry past us towards the car, my eyes accidentally meet François' and he smiles, showing me the dried blood between his teeth.
We are taken up the gravel path and ascend the six marble steps leading to the château's large double front doors.
Entering, Jacques strides through a huge marble-floored entrance hall, past a grand staircase and into a room which appears to be a reception area.
There's a large wooden coffee table in the middle of the room, surrounded by two cabriole sofas, a chaise lounge and an armchair.
I'm thoroughly confused when the Jacques gently sets me onto one of the cabriole sofas. Perry is less considerate, tossing Sofie down beside me as if she's an object instead of a human being.
She immediately huddles into me, wrapping her arms tightly around my waist while I wrap mine around her shoulders.
François strolls over to the chaise lounge and sits down, stretching his legs out and placing both hands behind his head.
The most arsehole way of sitting ever.
After about five minutes of tense silence, the butler enters the room.
"Bonjour, Votre Grâce." Hello, Your Grace.
"Salut, Frederick," François replies. Hello, Frederick.
"Votre père s'est demandé où vous étiez toute la semaine," the butler says. Your father has been wondering where you were all week.
"Un bâtard curieux," François mutters. Nosy bastard.
"Devrais-je lui dire que vous êtes rentré?" the butler asks. Shall I tell him you've returned?
"S'il le faut," François sighs. If you must.
The butler leaves and the awkward silence returns.
What the hell is going to happen to us now?
The word gangbang enters my mind and my stomach drops.
"François!"
A big, booming voice makes Sofie and me both jump in our seats.
"Le voilà," Perry mutters with mock enthusiasm. Here he comes.
A man with salt and pepper coloured hair, wearing an expensive-looking suit, storms into the room.
He snarls like an animal at the sight of us and my fear levels spike.
"Que font ces humains ici, François?" he says. "J'exige des réponses." What are these humans doing here, François? I demand answers.
"Ça fait plaisir de te voir, papa," François replies calmly. It's nice to see you too, dad.
"Ne sois pas sarcastique avec moi!" the man erupts, jabbing his index finger at him. "Tu disparais un semaine entière et raviens avec ça?!" Don't be sarcastic to me! You disappear for an entire week and then show up with this?!
"Votre Grâce," Jacques begins. "Si je peux me permettre..." Your Grace, if I may explain...
"Non," the man cuts him off. "J'ai parlé à mon fils, pas vous." No. I asked my son, not you.
Glaring at François, he continues, "Alors? Explique toi." Well? Explain yourself.
"Il n'y a rien à expliquer," François grumbles. "C'est évident." There's nothing to explain. The situation is evident.
"Et comment cette situation est arrivée?" the man growls through gritted teeth. And how did this situation take place?
François doesn't respond, choosing to remain silent.
"Je vois," the man says, voice like venom. I see.
He turns to us suddenly and points his finger at me
"You," he barks. "What is your name?"
I open my mouth to tell him but he stops me before I can start.
"No, no," he says, waving his hands and shaking his head. "I changed my mind. I don't want to know."
He turns his attention back to François.
"Je ne peux pas gérer ça maintenant," he says. "Ton parrain vient d'arriver il n'y a pas longtemps et il besoin de mon attention." I can't deal with this right now. Your godfather arrived not long ago and requires my full attention.
François frowns. "Que fait-il ici?" he asks. What's he doing here?
The other man's glare intensifies.
"Je suppose qu'il est ici pour rendre visite à sa famille," he hisses. "Pas tout le monde évite la compagnie de ses proches comme tu le fais avec impatience, François." I assume he's here to visit his family. Not everyone avoids the company of their relatives like you do so eagerly, François.
His angry eyes flicker to us one more time and he says, "Je m'en occuperai plus tard," before storming out the way he came. I'll take care of that later.
Silence descends again but I hardly notice it above the sound of my pounding heart.
Despite not knowing any French, I can tell that nothing said in that conversation was anything good.
Is this the moment we die?
Perry speaks then.
"Nous avons fait une grosse erreur," he says. "Qu'est ce qui t'a fait penser que les amener ici était une bonne idée?" We made a terrible mistake. What made you think bringing them back here was a good idea?
François shoots him a glare and says, "Tu avais de meilleurs plans, Perry? Tue parles beaucoup trop ce soir et ça commence à m'énerver." Did you have any better plans, Perry? You're very talkative tonight and it's getting on my nerves.
"Il parle toujours," Jacques snorts with annoyance. "Mes nerfs étaient épuisés il y a des années." He is always talking. My nerves were frazzled years ago.
"On devrait les tuer avant que les choses n'empirent," Perry says. We should kill them now before things get any worse.
"Aussi amusant que cela puisse paraître," François replies. "Je doute que mon père veuille que je mette du sang sur les tapis." As fun as that sounds, I don't think my dad would like me getting blood all over the carpets.
"Drainez-le alors," Perry growls, baring his teeth like a rabid animal. "Pas besoin d'être en désordre. Jacques et moi pouvons nous nourrir sans en renverser." Drain them then. It doesn't need to be messy. Jacques and I can both feed without spilling any.
François regards us silently for a moment, studying our faces, and sighs before rising from his seat.
I spring to my feet the moment he takes a step in our direction.
"Stay away from us," I say, surprised by how strong and brave I sound. Two things I certainly am not right now.
"Si impolie," he tuts, stalking across the room towards us. So impolite.
Sofie shrinks back into the cushions and I resist the urge to do the same as he stops when he's in front of me, the tips of his shoes touching mine.
"I don't remember you saying your name," he says while his bright green eyes glide up and down my body.
"That's because I didn't," I reply shakily, sounding less confident now that he's so close.
"What is your name?"
"As if I'd tell you."
As soon as the words are out of my mouth, his hand is around my throat and I'm back on the sofa, gasping.
Instinctively, I try to get back up but he places a knee in between my legs and leans over me, squeezing his fingers around my windpipe.
"I'm going to ask you again," he says, his voice matching the chilliness of his skin. "And this time you are going to tell me."
I grab at his wrist in a desperate attempt to pull his hand away but it doesn't budge. It doesn't even loosen.
"François-" Jacques attempts to interject but Perry stops him.
"What is your name?" he asks me again.
I open my mouth, but nothing comes out except a choking sound.
His eyes flicker to my chest and I squirm with discomfort when his free hand reaches into my top and pulls out the long gold necklace I got for my 14th birthday. The last gift my dad ever gave me.
The squiggly charm on it says my name.
"Mmmm..." he hums, studying it. "Amélie."
I grit my teeth. It's Emilia, arsehole.
He releases me and I inhale with relief.
"And you," he says, straightening up and looking down at my cousin. "What is your name?"
When she doesn't reply fast enough, he growls.
"Don't make me ask you again," he warns and her tearful eyes widen.
"Sofie," she whimpers, shrinking back further into the sofa and wrapping her arms around her middle, hugging herself proactively.
He seems satisfied with her reaction and takes a step back, studying us as if we are paintings in an art gallery.
"You know," he says, "I think we will get along just fine."
He smiles at us, but his smile is anything but reassuring.
His teeth catch my attention again. Specifically his canines.
"Are you are a cannibal?" I blurt out, still unable to wrap my head around tonight's events.
Smirking, he shakes his head and says, "No."
"Then what are you?" I ask.
"Take a guess," he answers.
"I don't know," I reply.
"Oh," he murmurs, "I think you do, mon cherie."
And he's right. I do know. On some instinctual and primitive level buried within my subconscious, I know exactly what he is. But my conscious mind who relies on logic and reasoning refuses to accept it.
"I'm a vampire."
The word leaves his lips so effortlessly it almost sounds believable. But believing something so far-fetched is dangerous, so instead...
I laugh.
François stares down at me whilst Sofie remains deathly silent by my side.
"Did I say something funny?" he asks, his tone like granite.
I instantly sober at his seriousness.
He turns to Jacques and says, "Amenez-les dans l'une des chambre d'amis du troisième étage." Take them up to one of the third-floor guestrooms.
Nodding his head, Jacques grabs Sofie's arm, making her yelp.
"Hey!" I yell as he pulls her up from the sofa.
François steps forward again, intruding in on my personal space.
"Just so you know," he warns softly. "I'm not someone to mess with. If either of you do anything to upset my friend, you will suffer."
He then goes back to lounging on the sofa, looking bored.
"Follow him," he tells me, waving a hand dismissively at Jacques as he drags Sofie out.
I hurry after them, not wanting to leave my little cousin alone for even a second, and Perry's eyes follow me with a hunger that is too ferocious to be human.
Comments (0)
See all