Vampyre | Book I of Bloodlines | Free on Inkitt & Kindle Unlimited
Darius Kane

Viola

Leaning back in my chair, I lower my hands to reveal my face to Mr. Daemon. From this close, he is truly horrifying. His skin is pallid, and his face gaunt. His eyes are such a pale shade they almost look completely white.

Something has changed since the last time I saw him—his long hair is no longer white; it’s black, and he doesn’t appear as sickly. Before, he resembled a decaying corpse. While he still bears some resemblance to a decaying corpse, it’s somewhat less pronounced now.

I watch the Daemon closely as his gaze lingers on my swollen eye, and I notice the anger slowly fading from him. His head drops, and his wings droop to the ground, resembling the ears of a sad puppy caught in the act. It’s guilt, unmistakably guilt.

“I’m sorry... It’s all my fault,” Mr. Daemon manages to utter in his deathly voice.

“How is it your fault?” I ask, but he remains silent.

Clearly, I need to rescue him from whatever rabbit hole he’s fallen into because this won’t suffice. Time is limited, and I don’t want him to endure any more suffering than he already has.

I retrieve my book from my pocket and begin searching through the pages, seeking a specific section I’ve marked. “I thought you heard everything that happens in this house: I’m a witch, didn’t you catch that part? You must not be as adept a Vampyre as this fellow.”

I glance up from the book to replace the Daemon’s eyes locked onto mine. A small smirk creeps onto his lips, revealing a hint of his sharp, dangerous fangs. Without thinking, I rise from my seat and step forward for a closer look. Suddenly, his wings open, and he hisses at me.

I freeze in my tracks. Did he really hiss at me? I search his eyes for a solution to the awkward standoff we seem to be in—honestly, I’m torn between amusement and fear.

“Are you quite finished? I only wanted to see your fangs.”

“Stay away from me!” His voice suddenly explodes with an intensity and energy he didn’t have seconds ago. I feel his power hit my gut, forcing me to take a step back.

“I’ve been starved for years; if you get too close, I won’t be able to control myself. The Daemon within will feed on you.”

“How long have you been held like this?” The idea that a sentient being has been imprisoned like this for years is an awful one to consider.

“Three years,” he says dejectedly. “Please, Viola, I couldn’t live with myself if I hurt you,” he says softly, keeping his gaze lowered.

The tenderness in his voice is surprising—for a hideous Daemon, he sure is heartfelt and honest.

“All right,” I say, sitting back down in my chair.

The moment I step back, the Daemon’s remaining energy vanishes. He collapses, held back only by the chains, his large, black, bat-like wings slumping lifelessly to the ground. He’s been strung up like this for three years? Barbaric.

I pause to examine the Daemon while he avoids looking my way and shudder at the realization that this is the same being I wanted to ravage me in the library. The impact he had on me was profound, and despite feeling repulsed by his current condition, it was him in William’s body, him at the helm, and him I desired to devour me.

“What is your name?” I finally inquire.

“Darius,” he manages, lifting his heavy head to gaze at me. “Darius Kane.”

I force myself to look away—he’s too revolting to look at for too long. “And how old are you, Mr. Kane?”

“I am two hundred and forty-two years old.”

It doesn’t add up—according to the book, Vampyres are supposed to look forever youthful, yet Mr. Kane appears his age at this point. If he’s been down here, starved for all these years, maybe restoring him to a stronger state would rejuvenate his body. He could regain his strength, somehow liberate himself, and perhaps free me from this marriage in the process. I’m not one to harm another living creature, but he can. It’s in his nature, and I’m sure William will be the first person he goes after once freed.

I stand up, having made up my mind to help this curious Daemon. Darius, I correct myself.

“Does anyone else know you’re here?” I ask, getting up and dragging the chair back to the same spot I found it—not knowing when William may return, I need to ensure everything is exactly where he left it.

Darius shakes his head. “Just you, little mouse.”

“Perhaps you may have overheard how long William will be gone?”

“Two weeks. At least, that’s what he told his valet.”

“Good. Hopefully, having the curtains closed for a while will bring you some relief.”

“Why do I get the impression there’s a complex mechanism of wheels turning in that head of yours?” Darius asks with a wretched smirk on his lips.

I can’t help but smile as I think about my idiotic and impossible plan.

“Be careful, Viola. Don’t do anything that might get you into trouble, not for my sake. These are the consequences of my choices,” Darius says solemnly.

It never occurred to me that Darius might deserve to be here. But looking at him, I fail to think of anything that he may have done to justify his imprisonment.

“The choices you made, do they justify this torture?”

Darius hesitates. He looks away, the shame written all over him.

“Possibly,” he mumbles.

“What did you do?”

Darius looks up at me—his expression conflicted as if debating with himself whether to reveal the truth, aware that his answer could change my perception of him.

“I killed William’s first wife,” he says simply, maintaining eye contact, gauging my reaction.

The news that William is a widower is startling—he never mentioned having a wife, and Mr. Kane killed her. Perhaps William’s grief is the reason for his cold demeanor, and I may have unknowingly aligned myself with the wrong man in this conflict between captive and captor.

“Mrs. Norris is looking for you. You should go before she sends a search party,” Darius says quietly.

I’m so lost in thought his words don’t quite sink in.

“Viola,” he says in a commanding tone that forces me to look into his glowing red eyes, “go.”

My feet seem to turn me around on their own, and before I know it, I’ve locked the door with Mr. Kane on the other side of it. It pains me to leave him alone in there, no matter what he is or what he’s done. Three years…

As I hurry out of William’s secret office and step into the library, a sudden chill ripples across my whole body as I imagine Mr. Kane kissing me. The thought of that decrepit, animated corpse touching me is repulsive, yet I feel an inexplicable pull toward him—perhaps because we both endure suffering at the hands of William. I want to assist him, even if it’s just closing the curtains to alleviate his torment a little—my own struggles seem trivial in comparison to his.

I navigate through the library and make my way toward my room. I currently have two pressing tasks on my agenda, each requiring a strategic plan. The first is to procure blood for Mr. Kane, which proves easier said than done. The second is to uncover everything about William’s first wife, a revelation that blindsided me completely.

No one uttered a word of it, not even Amber who I now call a friend. William was simply the charming new bachelor in town—no mention of being a widower. What was she like? Did he truly love her? Could her death have transformed him into a monster? If she was his soulmate, the center of his world, and then violently slayed by a Daemon, it could have plunged him into darkness, leading him to inflict his pain on everyone else in his life.

If that were the case, why is there no trace of her in this house? All the portraits are labeled, and I’ve walked these halls admiring each and every one—not a single Lady William Spencer in sight.

If it was an honest, innocent relationship cut short, why is her memory buried? Earlier, Mrs. Norris hesitated when she mentioned having a spare set of keys that belonged to someone else before. At the time, I didn’t think much of it.

I examine my keys. These were the keys of William’s first wife.

“Milady,” Amber rushes up behind me. Mrs. Norris is looking for you. Dr. Gibbons has come to check in on you. They’re waiting for you in the drawing room.”

“Why did the doctor come this late in the evening?” I ask as we start making our way to the drawing room.

“He wasn’t able to come any earlier,” Amber lowers her voice, “there was a vicious animal attack in town.”

“What kind of animal? Did someone get hurt?” I ask.

“Yes, the printer’s daughter. No one knows what animal it was, but rumor has it she was bitten by something large on the neck, a bear or wolf perhaps. She lost a lot of blood, poor thing.”

I stop and look at Amber as she speaks. From what I’ve read in my book, I think that sounds much like a Vampyre.

“But Dr. Gibbons won’t say anything more than that,” Amber leans in closer and lowers her voice even more, “something about patient confidentiality.”

If the printer’s daughter lost a significant amount of blood, then Dr. Gibbons must have a treatment for patients with severe blood loss—a blood transfusion, perhaps. I need to replace a way to speak with him alone and learn more about what happened to the girl. If it wasn’t an animal attack and was something supernatural, maybe I could seek out supernatural beings for help. I chuckle at my own foolishness. That’s a very silly idea that Mr. Kane would surely scold me for.

Regardless, I have many questions and less than two weeks of freedom to work with. I’m unsure whose side I should be on—William’s or Kane’s—but as I dig around, more information will likely reveal itself, and I can decide from there.

First things first: meet with the good doctor and learn how one treats a person who has lost a significant amount of blood.