Vampyre | Book I of Bloodlines | Free on Inkitt & Kindle Unlimited
Through the Looking Glass

Darius

Her scent grew more intoxicating with proximity—it wasn’t even her youthful blood, full of much-needed nutrition, which I naturally crave in my undernourished state, but the natural aroma of jasmine on a warm evening by the Mediterranean Sea. One breath of her scent transported me to memories of a happier time when freedom was an unappreciated state of normalcy.

In those days, I would roam the warmer regions of the world. Though immune to the cold, I yearned for the sun and heat. Humans all seemed happier in warmer climates, and I so desperately wanted to be happy that I lived amongst them, longing to absorb their joy through osmosis.

Now, confined to this room and shackled with silver, my sole focus is preventing insanity from seeping into my mind. If I ever escape, the self-control I’ve cultivated over decades will be my last line of defense. I refuse to let go of whatever humanity remains within me—if any at all.

I can’t begin to recount the number of lives the beast within me claimed before I gained mastery over it. However, I would eagerly release the beast upon William at my earliest opportunity, even if it means draining him while still shackled within my prison, resigning myself to decay further and eventual death. Watching William’s corpse slowly decompose before my eyes would provide a final satisfaction for my soul before embarking on my journey to whatever hell or underworld awaits me.

Until Viola stumbled upon his secret passage, William was the only one aware of my presence here. Now, this curious little mouse has discovered her way to me. What’s even more intriguing is that her face is familiar to me, though I cannot recall where or when I’ve seen it before.

With the meager energy I had recovered during the darkness of night, I utilized William’s eyes to ensure her safety. Having fed off William previously, I can now peer through him like a looking glass if he’s nearby and even exert control over his actions.

“I want you,” Viola’s words repeat in my mind, and I can’t help but take great delight in hearing them on her lips.

The way she said them made me yearn to embrace her right then and there, perhaps atop the nearest desk. She must be mad—I likely resemble a decaying, ancient figure at this point, yet she desired me.

A smile creeps onto my lips as I imagine the curve of hers. Feeling her body respond to my touch made me long to grant her desires. However, as my strength waned, my hold over William weakened, and I was abruptly expelled from his being.

William could have realized by now that I can possess him when I’m strong enough or when he’s close enough, but he remains a raging fool, still beholden to the lessons his father instilled in him—he is still unaware that some of us possess magic.

I listen as William shouts and strikes Viola with what sounds like a book. My feeble muscles make it nearly impossible to pull myself up using the chains, let alone stand, but I pollen them in frustration—a vain attempt to free myself.

Hours pass, and I listen intently for any sign of Viola, but she remains on the floor, unmoving. Eventually, the young housemaid, Amber, discovers Viola in the library and calls for the doctor.

If I ever regain my strength and free myself from these shackles, Sophie and Amber will be the only staff members I spare for showing kindness to Viola while the others turn their backs on her. Sophie is by Viola’s side now and stays there all night. I hope she’s holding her hand—even when unconscious, the body can still receive comfort through physical touch. Poor little mouse.

As the sun rises outside the eastern windows, I strain to listen for the moment Viola wakes. I need to hear that she’s all right.

I scold myself for overstaying in William—I should have left once I saw she was safe in the library. It’s my fault she’s unconscious—I stayed too long, creating a noticeable gap in William’s consciousness.

No matter how hard I try to stay conscious, I’m completely drained, and my eyes refuse to stay open any longer.

Death, she is finally coming for me, and I welcome her with open arms until a delicious scent hits my nose.

“Looks like I made it just in time,” William’s voice drifts into my ears.

I manage to open my eyes. It’s dark—he must have closed the curtains. I watch as William squats down to open a large sack from which he pulls a squealing piglet and brings it to my lips.

Driven by the desperation of the beast within me, I sink my fangs into its warm, living flesh, draining the frightened creature in seconds. William tosses the lifeless piglet on the floor and reaches into the sack again. He holds up another, and then another, and after the fourth, I feel the warmth of life flowing within my veins.

I stare at the dead little pigs on the floor, trying to focus my eyes, and slowly begin to regain myself.

“Four should be enough to sustain you while I’m away,” he says, putting the dead pigs back into the sack.

“But you only just returned. And you didn’t even bring me any souvenirs from your last trip,” I manage to say in my delirium.

“Sure I did. You must have heard my new little wife moving about the place,” William stands up.

“Oh, so you brought me a meal instead of a snack? How thoughtful.” I chuckle smugly. “Bring her over, and I’ll put the girl out of her misery.”

“But I’ve only just married her, and I don’t like to share my things,” William shrugs. “Plus, I think I actually like this one.”

I snicker. “We both know you’re incapable of love, William.”

“I have big plans for my new Emily when I return,” he adds whimsically.

His casual mention of Emily infuriates me, but I bury my anger, storing it away with the overflowing pool of fury I’ve saved for William.

“And how did you trick this one into marrying you, William?”

He shrugs. “Well, Darius, it was rather quite simple. After I had her father removed from the equation, she wasn’t left with much of a choice. The deeds to his properties alone were worth it. Right, I must run, and there is no time to dilly-dally. I’ll be back to open the curtains before I go. Try not to miss me while I’m gone.”

William turns around and goes to leave.

The smug jabs I want to shoot off at him run through my head one by one, but I keep my mouth shut. He’ll be back later to open the curtains, if I piss him off now, he’ll turn on his heels and open them now. Instead, I listen hard to where William might leave the key to this room. Normally, he carries it around his neck, but he leaves it in his office when he goes away on long trips for safekeeping. I hear him taking the key off and quickly peek through his left eye to confirm its location—the bottom desk drawer under some papers.

If Viola replaces her way in here again, she might gather the courage to unlock the door for a personal visit. I likely look rather horrific, so there’s no danger she’ll be attracted to me. We Vampyres are eternally youthful and beautiful for a reason—the blood of a frightened human doesn’t quite taste the same as that of a relaxed and willing victim.

Our magic prevents aging, enhances our beauty, and emits an aura that dampens a person’s instinct to resist or escape. We entice them with our allure, effortlessly seducing them so that by the time our fangs pierce their skin, it’s too late, and their blood is at its sweetest.

Our venom induces a euphoric state in humans as we feed, soothing them as we draw out their life force. A seasoned Vampyre can administer their venom to erase the memory of the encounter. However, inexperienced Vampyres often struggle to control their impulses, leading to disappearances that raise suspicions.

In circumstances like these, whatever magic courses through, my blood feels weak or nonexistent. The silver shackles further suppress my true powers.

I pray for Viola’s return. Perhaps I can persuade her to flee this place before it’s too late to save herself, assuming she ever wakes up.