Chapter 4: Lavinia’s Turn

Over the next several days the wound on the brunette girl’s neck began to fade and heal. The purple bruising lifted to an off-colored yellow and the puncture marks reduced to slight pinpricks.

The only outside interaction came from the guards dropping off food. They replaced Lavinia’s pillowcase, taking the stained one away.

“What is he doing?” Rosie asked.

“Isaac doesn’t feed every day,” said Helen. “He likes to take his time. I think he likes seeing how weak he can get his prey. Otherwise, I’d expect that he would just let the company take care of it.”

“Is that what the rest of the family does?” asked Lavinia.

“Sort of,” Helen replied. “I don’t know much about the family, but on a few occasions I’ve seen his sister taking her meals.”

“Sister?”

“Yeah. She keeps her stock in the room across the hall.”

The other woman piped up. “I’ve heard that most of her victims get to leave.”

“What?” Lavinia turned to look at her.

“She has restraint.”

Helen laughed sadly. “Or Isaac is just a sadistic bastard. He clearly doesn’t need to be as rough as he is.”

From the hallway came the sound of footsteps.

“Speaking of which,” said Helen.

Lavinia did not have to wait for the door to swing open to know what was going to happen. After the half-remembered threat that the brunette girl had given, she knew she was next. Sure enough, the pair of guards walked right to her. She squeezed Rosie’s hand and stood. She would save the fight for Isaac Astor. No matter what he did she promised herself she wouldn’t fold.

The guards each took one of her arms, frogmarching her up the dim hallway. At the end of it, they mounted a spiral staircase, winding up several flights, passing closed doors. Eventually, they produced a key and unlocked a wooden door. Passing through it, one of the guards held a tapestry out of the way to clear the path of Lavinia and the other to pass.

Lavinia looked behind her as the tapestry fell back into place, completely obscuring the door. This corridor was much more brightly lit. The sconces threw light across the richly carpeted floor and ornate walls. In the space between doors ahead Lavinia could see what looked like a family portrait. She could easily identify Isaac, with his angular face and haughty expression. He was stood behind a well-upholstered with the hand of an older woman resting on his hand. The older woman sat cross-legged in the chair, glaring at the artist. Perched on the arm of the chair was a young woman with hair, the same shade of pale blonde as Isaac’s, pulled up into an elaborate bun.

This must be his sister, Lavinia thought, the one that the girls had mentioned. Before she could get a proper look at it, the guards ushered her past it. Down at the end of the hall stood a set of double doors. At them, the guards knocked once. The doors unlatched and creaked open just enough for Lavinia to see a crack of dim light. At the click, the two guards turned back up the hallway, disappearing behind the same tapestry that they came from.

The hall was freezing cold as Lavinia stood there. She could feel warmth emanating from the slightly open doors. After a moment, she became impatient. Whatever was waiting for her would take her whether she went forward or not. Taking a deep breath, she pressed the door further open and stepped inside.

The first thing Lavinia noticed was the enormous fireplace. Its mantle was covered in an array of candle holders and vases, the flowers all dried. In the grate below a fire roared, the flames barely contained within the hearth. On the other side of the room stood a large fourposter bed. It was draped in a dark comforter. On the rug in front of the fireplace was a small table, set with a single glass and an open bottle of wine.

Finally, her eyes fell on Isaac. She had known he was sat at the foot of the bed, on leg crossed over the other. She had been avoiding looking at him. He was dressed only in a silver-colored robe. From its open neckline, Lavinia could see his prominent collarbones and pristine skin. Without the high formal collar of what he toured the factory in, he looked much younger. No longer was he the imposing and distant corporate heir, he was a beautiful young man who was exceptionally present.

Isaac watched Lavinia as she traced the room. He smiled faintly as her eyes widened at the opulence of the room. As Lavinia’s eyes came to rest on him, flitting about his collarbone, Isaac tilted his head.

“Is there something you’re looking for, Lavinia?” Isaac smirked at her slight jump when he spoke. He stood carefully, sweeping his hand towards the table. Lavinia stepped towards it, pausing as Isaac pulled out her chair. Taking her seat, Lavinia watched Isaac settle opposite her. He took the opened bottle and poured a glass for her. For a split second, Lavinia was struck with an absurd thought and she let slip a stifled laugh.

“What’s so funny?” Isaac questioned.

“It’s just- I almost thought to ask why you hadn’t poured for yourself.”

Isaac’s smirk buckled into an almost genuine smile. He pushed the glass towards her and leaned back in his chair. “You are a strange one indeed. Are you afraid of me?”

“No.”

“Really? Even after everything I’m sure you’ve heard from those other bloodbags?”

Lavinia hesitated for a second, then shook her head.

“Hmm,” Isaac considered her for a moment, then stood, slowly approaching her. She turned so she was facing the side of her chair, looking up at Isaac. He reached down with one of his thin hands and lifted her chin, forcing her to sit up straighter in her chair. Delicately, he twisted her face to one side, using his free hand to brush her hair back, exposing her neck. “You know what I could do to you?”

“Yes,” she gave her response firmly, looking at him through her eyelashes. Isaac snapped her face back to the center and knelt in front of her. He took her left hand and pulled towards him, palm up. He leaned forward slowly, waiting for a tremor that Lavina fought to suppress.

His ethereal pallor did not extend to his touch. Lavinia could feel the warmth of his hands as her pulse quickened. As he got closer, she caught the same burning smell, a smell that she was now able to connect to his fireplace. Her attention was pulled back to Isaac as he pressed his lips against her inner wrist, breathing in. Then without warning came a piercing pain as he bit into her wrist.

His grip tightened into a vice as he began to feed. Once the initial shocking pain passed a feeling of static spread up Lavinia’s arm, fractaling though her chest and spilling into the rest of her limbs. Unconsciously, Lavinia raised her hand to the back of Isaac’s head, guiding him forward. His lips curled against her as she made a soft noise, indistinguishable as either pleasure or pain.

With a swift motion, he shifted positions, sinking his fangs into the side of her throat and lifting her out of the chair and wrapping her legs around his waist. He walked her to the bed, staying standing as Lavinia steadied herself, hands digging into his shoulder blades. For a second, Isaac pulled away, licking the thin smear of blood from his lips.

“If I didn’t know how much you detest me, I would guess you were enjoying yourself.” Isaac waited for Lavinia’s eyes to focus on him. His pale eyes swam in front of her, dizzy as she was from the sudden blood loss and movement. She was able to lock eyes with him.

“J-just get this over with, Astor,” she slurred with as much animosity as she could muster, yet she did not release her grip, keeping Isaac close.

“As you wish, Ms. Devon,” Isaac tipped forward, throwing Lavinia against the bed on her back. With one hand he dragged both her wrists up above her head, the left still visibly bleeding. Isaac leaned down and bit hard into just below Lavinia’s collarbone. This time she couldn’t cover her gasp as her chest flooded with the same incredible static as before.