Possession (3 page)

A new lesson began on the third
hour--lunch.

Catherine discovered the only thing she knew
how to do “right” was picking up her silverware from the outside-in
toward the plate.

Her wrist wasn’t graceful enough when she
picked up her glass. She cut her food in bites too large. Then, she
ate too fast. A meal had never been so excruciating.

For the forth hour, they went back to the
book trick, only in high heels. Catherine was only ever marginal in
walking in them in the first place, and that was with an
inch-and-a-half heel. Mrs. Crumb made her wear a pair at three
inches, and by the end of that lesson, she was ready to beat the
old bat to death with them. She was never so grateful to bid a
person goodbye, when Mrs. Crumb announced their time together was
up.

The next “class” was a whole new bag. The
woman she’d seen last night, Alana, came into the room.

“Hi! Call me Alana. I don’t bother with that
formal crap. People should be allowed to speak their minds. Anyway,
I’m here to teach you two subjects. How are you at math, and have
you ever had an orgasm before?”

What?

“Uh, um, I’m alright at math… Um, why is the
other question important?”

Alana rolled her eyes. “Because I’m going to
teach you about sex, silly.”

“I-I’ve had the sex-ed courses at
school.”

“Which are seriously lacking in instructing
boys on the female orgasm, I’d say. Have you had sex?” she
asked.

Catherine blushed. “No… I was waiting for the
right guy.”

“Ohhh, the
romantic
version. Yeah,
that doesn’t pan out in real life too often. I could tell you a
story about a troll… Anyway, since Lorcan owns you, you’re going to
need to know a lot. He’s over two-hundred years old, you know.”

“I didn’t.”

“Ya-huh, and that translates to
tons
of experience. But I don’t want to scare you with all the details.
Right now, we’re going to talk Finance, and then I’ll give you your
sex homework, ‘kay?”

Alana was completely shameless. She had
diagrams, and props, and stories…all displayed matter-of-factly and
with complete abandon.

Catherine had never blushed so much in her
life. “TMI” seriously came to mind!

***

Julian watched it all on a monitor in his
office. There were cameras in every public room and hallway of the
house. He admired the girl’s control over her temper, and laughed
at her embarrassment. They’d drive that out of her eventually. You
couldn’t be a shrinking violet in a roomful of demons.

He had a contact monitoring the police
bulletins in Los Angeles for any report of a kidnapping. The
females he trained usually came here willingly and with a career in
mind. Harboring a kidnapped coed was asking for trouble, especially
in the digital age. He had to make sure no one took her into the
city until she was handed over to Lorcan. Then, it would be
his
problem.

Catherine had been in lessons for eight
hours, so he sent someone to escort her back to her room to study.
He had a camera there, too.

Julian watched her toss the book on her bed
and walk over to the window, gazing out at the grounds for a couple
minutes before sighing and turning back to the book. She took out a
pair of reading glasses, propped herself against the headboard, and
opened the encyclopedia.

“How do you even pronounce these names?” he
heard her murmur. She was even taking notes!

Lorcan had really found himself a bookworm in
this one. Sure, she seemed to have the smarts to take in the
knowledge, but could they turn her into a debutante in six weeks?
She’d braided her long hair back the same as he’d seen it
yesterday, wore no make-up, and walked like a complete klutz in
heels. Turning her would take care of the physical grace issue, but
Lorcan wanted her finished before that. She needed to learn how to
dance and how to fight.

Julian’s mind drifted briefly to how his ex
had moved in everything she did…

He shook off that tangent right quick.

Though it had been years since she’d run off
to Lorcan, it still hurt that she could toss away what they had so
easily, after a hundred years together.

Running into Alana gave him a purpose, a
hobby to fill the time alone. She wanted to create a profitable
business, and he had the knowledge for the task. Their first
graduates had been demon prostitutes looking for a better life, but
soon, they had young ones fresh out of puberty coming to learn the
tricks of the trade in order to land a better mate. Upper-class
males began to seek them out looking for a companion. Pretty eye
candy, as it were.

Julian let Catherine study for a few hours,
then sent a servant to tell her to prepare to go running. He
watched her curse as she hunted through the boxes for sweats and
sneakers, then went upstairs to fetch her from the room.

“Four laps around the house is a mile. I want
you to do two miles,” he instructed. She grimaced, but started
jogging. “And I better not catch you walking any of it!”

Her pace was slow, even for a human. They’d
have to work on that. At the end of eight laps, he listened to her
heart rate, then ordered her to do another four. He needed to know
the point she would give in to muscle failure.

She stopped after five miles, not from muscle
fatigue, but from wheezing.

“Are you on medication?”

Catherine shook her head “no”, unable to
speak, yet. England was a lot colder than California and she wasn’t
used to this much exercise.

“Sit, before you fall down, for
chrissakes!”

Humans are so bloody fragile.
He
tossed her a bottle of water.

“Go inside and shower. Supper is in thirty
minutes.”

***

Catherine nodded and stumbled inside. She
barely made it to the third floor. Her legs felt like lead.

Showering actually meant standing in the old
fashioned claw-foot tub and using a spray nozzle to hose off, so
she took a bath, instead. And fell asleep.

Catherine’s eyes opened when she had five
minutes to be down in the dining room.

“Shit!”

She scrambled to dry off, putting her clothes
on from earlier in the day, and ran down the stairs, skidding into
the room and her seat just as Julian sat down at the head of the
table.

“You’re late.”

By seconds, maybe
, she grumbled
internally.

“Not on my watch,” Alana chirped. He glared
at her, but she only grinned.

“Dinner, sir,” one of the servants said,
setting a plate in front of him. Other servants set plates down in
front of the rest at the same time.

Catherine was served a chicken breast with
fresh lemon, steamed vegetables, and a glass of white wine. Was she
supposed to drink that? In her mind, she wasn’t old enough for
another three years. The others at the table also seemed to have
customized dishes.

She didn’t know who the other women were, let
alone what species. One had quills, instead of hair. Another was
wrapped in robes, except for her eyes, which were serpent yellow.
None of them spoke, just waited for Julian to start eating before
touching their plates.

She kept her eyes on her food, practicing
what Mrs. Crumb had drilled into her head. She could feel Julian’s
eyes, watching her.

Alana chattered away about end-quarter
projections, or some such.

Dessert eventually came--a lime ice for the
human--and it was torture for her. Julian and Alana were served
rich, gooey, chocolate cake.

Catherine was painfully reminded that she
wouldn’t get to do her nightly stop at the café for hot chocolate
and a pastry ever again. She hoped she would be excused at the end
of dinner.

The others got to go watch television when
they were done. She was locked in her room with more books. She
fell asleep with the demon encyclopedia in her lap.

***

The first week was a blur of lessons,
studying, jogging four miles, and more studying. Somehow, she
managed to retain enough to satisfy their quizzes.

The night schedule was hard to adjust to. Her
body still wanted to wake up when it was fully light, and she had
to force herself back to sleep again. At the end of that week, when
she showed up heavy-lidded with dark circles under her eyes, Julian
called her on it.

“You’re not sleeping.”

“Not well, sir.”

“Why not?” he demanded.

“The hours, sir. I keep waking up when it’s
daylight.”

He sighed, and paced in front of her for a
moment, before declaring, “Your hours will be adjusted.”

“Thank you, sir.”

Julian grumbled and left the classroom.

A new schedule was on her bed when Catherine
came back from her run. It was handwritten in old-fashioned text,
with the slant of a leftie.

Your sleeping hours are now 1:00AM to 9:00AM.
Don’t make me regret showing you leniency.

She sighed in relief and changed clothes for
dinner.

Maybe Julian wasn’t such a bad guy, after
all…or maybe he was just protecting the client’s investment. She
couldn’t figure him out. He was always stern and bossy, but at
times, he almost seemed…compassionate.

Chapter 4

Week Two…

Catherine’s eyes widened in terror at the
announcement of week two’s new focus--Julian wanted her to learn
how to dance.

She
didn’t
dance. Bobbed her head
while sitting at a table, yeah, but
no dancing.

“Put your eyes back in your sockets, girl,
it’s just two waltzes.” He smiled devilishly. “The real challenge
for this week will be learning how to
fight
.”

Okay, she took back everything she’d thought
about him being not so bad.

Julian was positively
evil
. Couldn’t
he tell she had two left feet? Apparently, he didn’t care, since a
set of dancewear and heels were on her bed the next time she was
sent back to her room.

Catherine seconded the “evil” assumption when
she put on the new clothes, a tank top and leggings that left
little to the imagination. She tied a hoodie around her waist, just
in case the room was cold.

Another surprise of the house was that it
contained an actual small dance studio, complete with a mirrored
wall and ballet barre. Catherine walked into the room in her heeled
dance shoes and saw Julian waiting for her--then jumped when she
noticed he didn’t have a reflection.

“A perk for vampires. We don’t show up in
mirrors,” he stated, then shrugged. “Something about being soulless
or dead… You’ll get used to it.” He walked over to a stereo system
and turned on a piece of classical music. “Come all the way in,
girl, you’re wasting time! Now, the waltz is the simplest and
easiest of the ballroom dances. It runs on three-quarter time.
One
-two-three,
one
-two-three…”

She nodded her head in time to the beat of
the music, earning a small approving smile. He walked over to her
and started positioning her arms.

“Your arms are to be held high, like this,
but with your shoulders still down and back. Now, you will
always
place them this way with your partner.” Julian placed
her left hand on his shoulder and clasped her right out to the
side. “This hand, that’s out from the body, always points in the
direction you’ll go, so to start, you will step your right foot to
the side, then bring your left to meet it, and take a tiny step
with the right again. This puts your left foot ready to repeat the
process. All to the one-two-three. Your partner will either start
you to the side, or lead you forward. It’s important to match your
partner’s steps so you don’t mash anyone’s toes. Now, let’s
begin.”

Catherine tried remembering what he said
while watching his feet.

“Head up! Look at me, or over my shoulder,
but never down at the floor.” Julian tapped the bottom of her chin
with the command.

She immediately obeyed, and got caught in his
intense blue eyes.
Uh-oh…

Catherine kicked his boot with the tow of her
shoe.

“Oi! Watch the leather!”

“Sorry!” So, she stepped on his other
foot.

Julian changed tactics. “Relax, pet. Focus on
how I’m moving as I lead you. You can feel where I want you to
go.”

She nodded and took a breath. “Okay…”

She relaxed her arms so she wasn’t fighting
him with her stiffness, and focused on the points they were
connected--her hand on his shoulder, his hand on her waist, their
hands entwined…

He was right. The gentle pressure he used
told her exactly when he was moving, and she should move, and let
her absorb the music as part of it, too.
Step
, step, step…
Step
, step, step…

“Now, you’ve got the hang of it. You notice
how the rhythm naturally encourages you to step on the ball of your
foot, not heel-toe. That’s where your weight should be for every
dance, like you’re stepping on clouds.” he instructed. “Ready for a
twirl?” he teased.

“Not just yet! How does the dance end?”

His eyes were twinkling at her as he replied,
“With the twirl.”

“Oh… You mentioned before, another kind of
dance?”

“The Viennese Waltz, but you don’t want to do
that, yet.”

“I don’t?”

“It’s double the speed of this one, with
turns,” he replied, grinning, then laughed when her eyes bugged out
in horror.

He actually has a nice laugh
.

“We’ll get to that tomorrow. I’m going to
show you the turn, now.”

By the end of the hour, she found she was
enjoying herself, and Julian wasn’t a bad teacher. The butterflies
in her stomach took flight again, however, when he announced that
fight training was her next station.

***

“Harder!”