CHAPTER 9

INTERLUDE

A new reality

I OPENED MY eyes and tried to focus on my surroundings, but my vision was blurry and my head hurt. I was aware of an incredible thirst, but try as I might, I could not muster the strength to move to find something to drink.

From what I could see, I was in another bedroom, this one smaller and not as well appointed as the last one I had awakened in. The bed itself was narrower and harder, the furnishings less luxurious. There was a fireplace at the foot of the bed and a window to my right, though the dark heavy curtains were pulled tight against it. Light was supplied by a candelabra on the mantle and a lantern next to the bed.

I glanced to my left and saw a table with a water pitcher and glass. I tried to sit up, but my body gave out, collapsing in a weakened heap onto the bed. Why was I so lethargic?

The need for water drove me to try again, rolling over onto my belly and pushing myself across the mattress toward the table. I made it to the edge of the bed before exhaustion overtook me, leaving me in a gasping heap. I must have dozed then, because I was startled awake by the sound of the door unlocking.

Rosetta entered, tray in hand, and approached the bed. "Are you awake?" She set the tray on the table and touched a hand to my brow. "You are not feverish, at least."

"Water," I gasped.

She helped me turn over onto my back and dragged me up onto the pillows so I was reclined against them. She then poured a glass of water and handed it to me.

"Thank you." I grabbed the glass and brought it to my lips, drinking greedily, then almost choked from the effort. My throat was so sore I could barely swallow. I laid my head back against the pillows and sighed.

"What happened to me? Why am I so weak?"

She bit her lip, as though considering whether or not to answer my question. At last she said, "It is the effect of the feeding. You must eat to restore your strength."

She leaned over me and grabbed another one of the pillows and stuffed it behind my back, raising me almost to a sitting position. She then reached for the tray and placed it on my lap. It was laden with roast meat and potatoes in a brown sauce, fresh fruit, and bread. The wine today was red and warm. Part of me was famished, but I didn't have the strength to feed myself. As though anticipating this, Rosetta picked up the knife and fork and cut a slice off the meat. She then placed the fork in my hand and indicated for me to eat .

The meat was not what I expected, and I almost spit it out. "What is this?"

"Liver. You need it to feed your blood."

Not one of my favorite meals, but I can remember our cook at home foisting it on me when I was younger. Maybe we could just skip it, I thought, but Rosetta was having no part of that. She proceeded to cut the meat into bite-sized pieces and stared at me as though I was a child refusing to eat.

"I'll eat the fruit."

"You'll eat the meat if you want to recover."

Just what exactly I was recovering from I had no idea. Perhaps I had taken ill during the night, but no, I had never been afflicted with illness before. My mother had always remarked that I was as healthy a young man as she had ever seen. Rosetta had said something about a feeding.

"What did you mean by the feeding?" I asked, reluctantly taking another bite of meat.

She avoided my gaze as she stood and made her way around the bed to the window, where she threw open the drapes to reveal a cloudy day. I was almost thankful for the overcast as even that small amount of light hurt my eyes.

She turned to face me, her hands clasped in front of her. "My mistress has…appetites."

I closed my eyes and thought back to my last encounter with the Contessa. I was convinced the woman was a witch, so thoroughly had she spellbound me. I remember wanting to demand that she release me, then somehow I was back in bed with her. Everything else was kind of fuzzy, though I did recall her mouth at my throat. I raised my hand to my neck and felt the welts of a wound there.

"She bit me."

Rosetta nodded grimly. "That is what she does. "

"What kind of woman bites people and holds them prisoner in her house?"

"I think you can work that out," Rosetta replied, seeming to grow distressed at my questions. "Please finish your meal."

"Why?"

She wrung her hands. "You will need your strength. Otherwise, you are no good to her."

"And what would happen then?"

"The Contessa does not suffer uselessness. She will discard you."

"Does that mean she would send me home?" I asked hopefully.

The maid's eyes were sympathetic. "No. Those she deems unworthy are sent below."

"Below where?"

"The cellar. You do not want to go there."

"Why not?"

"It is a last resort. Those who are sent there die a slow death, brought on by neglect and starvation."

Die? What had I gotten myself into? "How can I get out of here? You must help me."

Rosetta shook her head. "You cannot leave. Her men will not allow it."

"Who are these men?"

"Franco, the keeper at the gate, and Giovanni, the coachman. They are loyal to her."

"Loyal to her how? Are they family? Does she hold something over them?"

"You ask too many questions," she hissed, looking around as though the walls could hear us .

"This is my life we're talking about. I think I have a right to know."

"You should not have accepted her invitation. Now please, just eat your meal. I have been gone too long already."

As curious as I was, I didn't want to be responsible for getting her into trouble. I took another bite of meat and chewed thoughtfully. "What will she do to you?"

"You do not want to know."

"I asked, therefore I do. What kind of punishment does she threaten you with?"

"Please, just eat."

"I am eating," I insisted, shoveling another mouthful in. "Please, Rosetta, tell me."

She rolled her eyes and looked away from me, her voice small. "You do not want to be taken to her rose garden."

"Why not?"

"That is where she…tortures people."

It all came back to me then–the rose, the thorns, how she squeezed them against my cock. She was a sadist, a "Monster."

Rosetta nodded. "Now you see? You cannot escape her. You can only do your best to please her."

"What is she?"

Rosetta leaned closer, her voice barely a whisper. "Vampira."

Vampira? How was that even possible? Surely such things did not exist except in superstition.

"Please just finish your meal so I can go."

"Leave the wine and fruit, you can take the rest," I told her, still trying to come to terms with this new reality.

She set the carafe and fruit aside on the table then lifted the tray from my lap. "Do not repeat what I told you," she pleaded.

"Who would I tell? "

She started toward the door then turned back to me. "You should rest. She will not send for you tonight. Not until you regain your strength."