Something was wrong with the potion.
My grip tightened around the edges of the heavy tray I was carrying.
I just could not stay calm.
The Lords had returned ahead of schedule. Two of them, with new pets in tow. And with four servants still on vacation, Becca and I had been ordered to serve them.
In their private chambers.
Becca walked beside me, pushing the metal cart ahead. She hummed under her breath, seemingly immune to the gravity of our task. I wished I had a similar coping mechanism.
It has been five years of taking a potion that turned me into a vampire. Each sip was enough to last me a week. And it was potent enough to fool even the noble Lords if I was careful.
But prolonged exposure to a Lord was dangerous.
And I have never had to serve the Lords directly.
Until tonight.
"It'll be fine," Becca murmured, though her humming had stopped. "We serve the pets, we leave. Simple."
There was nothing simple about this.
I had taken a sip three days ago and strangely, at this very moment, I could feel the effects waning.
There was a sluggishness to my steps where there shouldn't be. It terrified me.
Something was wrong.
If anyone discovered what I was, I would become one of those unfortunate human pets. Blood bags for high-ranking vampires.
But I could not go back. My best bet would be to finish this as quickly as possible and retake the potion.
However, Lord Fashire...
My stomach clenched at the thought of the red-haired monster. He was the most ruthless Lord in the castle.
Rarely did any of his pets survive beyond a few weeks.
And they always turned out dead at the end of it. Like broken toys.
We crossed into the grand wing reserved for the Lords and Becca's humming died.
I drew in a deep breath. The air pressed down like stone, and every breath was a struggle.
Becca's earlier spark had died, and her skin was a shade paler than before.
We climbed to the upper floors in silence until we reached a grand set of double doors. Gold patterns were etched into the dark wood.
Becca stepped away from her cart and pushed open one of the doors. After a little difficulty it finally opened with a heavy groan.
I stiffly followed Becca into the dim hall and froze.
It was bitterly cold!
Shivers rippled through me, and Becca trembled too. We nearly doubled over, struggling to regain our composure before venturing deeper into his wing.
At the end of a passage loomed a large door.
Lord Fashire's bed chamber.
Silence pressed in and the temperature plunged further with every step we took. My pace slowed. Becca's seemed to falter. Her mouth opened, and just as she was about to announce us, a deep voice interjected from behind the doors.
"Come in."
His voice slid through the air, smooth as silk, yet foreboding. My breath clouded before me.
"Ye—Yes, my Lord," we answered.
Becca was reaching for the door to push it when it swung open on its own. A gust of icy wind struck me.
'MOVE!'
My legs moved, and just like that, I took my very first step into the lair of the most fearsome predator.
The chamber was dim. As my eyes adjusted, I made out curtains drawn shut, dark recesses, and Becca pushing her cart ahead.
Wait.
Becca was ahead of me.
Too far ahead.
With an unsettling chill, I realised I had been standing still and not actually walking.
'Oh, lords! How long have I been standing here?'
However, my heart plummeted to my feet as something even worse happened.
Lord Fashire was standing right before me.
I had seen him once before, across the courtyard when I first came to the castle. His cruel eyes had locked onto mine and I had frozen then too.
But that had been from a distance.
This was nothing like back then. He was far more imposing up close!
"Now, how long did you intend to dawdle here?" His growl cut into me, cold enough to numb my bones.
The air thickened and my lungs strained as he loomed closer, his silver-grey eyes pinning me in place.
My skin prickled as I witnessed the madness dancing in those eyes, sharp and consuming.
'Run. Run! RUN!'
My lips trembled soundlessly. But I could not move. I could not do anything.
'Move! Please…'
His gaze dropped to the tray and a predatory smile curved his lips.
"You." His voice crept out with a menacing undercurrent.
'Oh lords… He knows…'
My heart thrashed in my chest.
"My Lord?" Becca's voice trembled.
Why was Becca answering?
"Take that cart somewhere else. This one here will perform her duties," he commanded, his eyes sliding back to meet mine.
Oh…
"Yes, my Lord." Becca rushed past us. The door slammed shut, leaving me alone with him.