Chapter 12

The elegant ballroom full of people dressed in finery and lavish tables laden with food is all but gone by the time I step back inside. Everything is still there, but it looks different, dim compared to before, and not at all like a place out of a fantasy.

The tables of food are half depleted, which is to be expected when hundreds of people have been feeding off them for the past few hours. Empty goblets, either wine or blood, are strewn amongst the half-finished plates of food. The musicians no longer play the same kind of music they were when I was dancing with Marcus, their tunes feel more sinister now, more threatening. Though there's every chance that's just because of what I've seen. The songs might be the same, it's just the atmosphere that's changed.

And the people. A woman in a pale pink gown licks her fingers, blood smeared down her chin and staining her gown in several places. The same can be said of several other vampires, whereas others seem to have fared much better. Without having been here, my only guess for the difference is that the messier set are younger, perhaps newly turned dhampirs like me.

The servants are congregated in one area of the hall, and it takes me a moment to realise that's where the townspeople are.

Were .

From the lack of activity from them, I have to assume that they're dead. Their lives snatched away from them without a second's hesitation.

I almost step in a pool of blood, pulling back at the last minute and saving my dress from ruin. Or maybe not. I'm sure the residents at the castle have figured out a good way to get blood out of fabric. I just need to find out what it is, just in case.

"Ah, Beatrice, there you are," Bastian says.

I look up to find my brother striding towards me. There's a red streak on his white shirt, only reminding me of what I've seen.

"Bastian." My voice cracks as I say his name. I don't know how to act around him right now. All thought and reason feels as if it's flown from my mind to be replaced by repulsion.

"Lord Fallmartin, no, Father, says that we're to return to our apartments now."

I stare at him. "Are you seriously going to call that man Father?"

Bastian grabs hold of my arm and pulls me over to the side of the room, pinching a little too hard. He's been doing that a lot tonight. Has he always been like this and I just haven't noticed? It's a horrible thing to consider, but surely one night in the castle isn't enough to make him cruel.

"Are you going to continue making this difficult?" he hisses. "What part of this is our life now don't you get? We're the heirs of House Rothorne now."

" You're the heir," I point out. "You traded my life of relative freedom for one of being bound to the whims of a man who will happily have you kill an innocent."

"Those people knew what they were signing up for," he dismisses the notion.

"They didn't." My voice cracks and I hate that it makes me seem weak. "They thought they were coming here for a chance of payment that could better the lives of their families."

"And they're going to get that."

"At the cost of their lives, Bastian. They're dead. You did that to them."

"We need blood to survive, Beatrice," he reminds me, a dangerous note in his voice. "This is just what nature intended."

"Maybe so, but we should be better than nature." I pull my wrist away. "I'm not going to cause any problems, but if you think I'm going to sit by and let you become a monster, then you're wrong."

He raises his hand, but doesn't strike me due to Lord Fallmartin clearing his throat. "Perhaps here isn't the best place for your current conversation," he says sternly.

I swallow hard. Not exactly the protection a man who wants me to call him Father should be offering.

"The conversation is over so long as Beatrice accepts her place," Bastian says, glaring at me.

"Consider my place accepted," I respond through gritted teeth. I don't particularly want it, but I know that if I'm going to have any chance to escape this situation, then the best thing for me to do is to keep my head down right now.

"Good," Lord Fallmartin says. "You should return to our apartments with your cousins, Beatrice."

I put on what I hope is a meek and demure smile, but I'm not convinced it quite hits the mark. "Of course."

"Bastian, there are some people you should meet." He claps a hand on Bastian's back and leads him over in the direction of some other vampires who are already deep in conversation.

"His favouritism is nauseating."

I look up to find Bella watching the two of them with thinly veiled contempt. "I suppose that means we get left to our own devices, at least."

She gives a sharp laugh. "Get back to me in ten years with what you think about that. You'll probably have had your first marriage by then."

"My first?" I echo.

She shrugs. "Vampire politics can be deadly. I wouldn't expect your husbands to last longer than a decade." She turns around and stalks off.

It takes me a moment to realise I should be following and heading back to the apartments with her and Eliza.

My head races with everything I've seen and learned, and it certainly feels as if it's been longer than a few hours since I discovered what I was. At least the denial doesn't seem to have lasted very long, though I'm sure there's still going to be some of that to come.

And the more I find out about vampire society, the more certain I am that I don't want to be here.