The Legend of Juliet: Part One (A Vampire Dystopia) (Finding Freedom Novellas) (7 page)

No
.

Sibold was my Master, but more than that, he was my...friend, and I couldn’t doubt him. I wouldn’t.

Luke was wrong.

I shook my head fiercely, trying to wrestle from Luke’s grip, though I didn’t manage to succeed; he was much stronger than me. “No! You’re wrong, Luke. You’re
wrong
,” I told him, my voice heated as well, fixing him with a glare much like the one I had given Sibold all those years ago, not wishing to leave my family.

No.

He was wrong.

“I’m not wrong!” Luke insisted, shaking me, trying to get me to understand; I knew that he wouldn’t hurt me intentionally, but that didn’t stop fear from writhing within my chest. “You’re blind, because you’re in love with him!”

That one sentence, those few words, appeared to halt time as Luke abruptly stopped shaking me, and I gasped, my eyes becoming wide.

Oh, yes – love. Luke hated love, because he had been in love with Sibold’s mother once, and he had thought that she was in love with him; it didn’t matter to him that she was a vampire, ancient, because vampires lived so long that time and age hardly mattered to them, time only a bragging right to be thrown in another’s face, nothing else; as far as the fact that she had a child, that hardly mattered, either, because once the vampire child reached adulthood, they were viewed from then on as any other vampire of their rank, though they remained part of the family. He had become her slave, and then she had seduced him, convinced him that she cared, and now he was nothing more than her eternal amusement, because now he was forced to be her lover, when his love had turned to hate.

This was why Luke hated Sibold, hated all vampires, because they
lied
– and it was part of why Sibold hated Luke, though I had a feeling that it stretched deeper than that.

But Luke was right – I was in love with Sibold; I had been for a long, long time, ever since that night, years ago...

I loved him, whether or not it would amount to anything in the end, whether or not it was wrong for a human to love someone who would never age, who was above her in so many ways, who she could scarcely look at without being punished by the Laws of the world. I loved Sibold more than I loved myself, though not in a self-depreciating way; I only wanted what was best for him. I wasn’t ashamed of this.

But Luke was.

Luke’s expression was bordering rage now as he looked down at me, still holding tightly to my face, something feral seeming to ripple beneath his skin, something that I had never before seen. It terrified me, and I shivered, and then opened my mouth to scream, hoping that whoever heard me would care enough to come running (though it was unlikely), when suddenly a harsh knock echoed from the wooden door.

“You are late, human boy, and the Mistress is displeased,” a harsh male voice – that of one of the vampire footmen no doubt – hissed from outside, causing Luke’s eyes to harden, his anger vanishing abruptly as he internalized his emotions, even the intense rage he felt, and withdrew his grasp from me, standing quickly, though I didn’t move.

I couldn’t move – I could scarcely
breathe
.

It seemed that I wasn’t the only one changing.

“We’ll speak more of this later,” Luke said, his tone deadly, just before he opened the door and strode out, leaving me alone with my thoughts – the most dangerous objects of all.

I lasted perhaps five minutes before more tears welled in my eyes, and I began crying, having only the strength to stand and walk nearly blind to my bed, throwing myself down on it, wrapping myself in my flowered coverlet – and imagining that I was wrapped in Sibold’s strong arms instead.

“This is the end, yes...

...But it is also the beginning.”

There is nothing like leaving your home, vanishing from it forever, never feeling as though you’ve had a chance to say goodbye. This is what I felt that day as the automobile – something that I had never seen, but had heard of briefly – pulled up to the weathered door of Miss Mercy’s Bright, and Sibold had stepped out into the flurrying white flakes that were termed “snow”, his expression somewhat detached, blank as he stared ahead at the vehicle, what I was told had once been called a “car”, as if he were lost in his own thoughts.

I had seen this, but I had been more determined to say goodbye, to keep hold of the image of my parents’ faces, than to follow Sibold; even then, I had been aware of the fact that I wasn’t doing this for him – because I was excited about having a Master (as some slaves were, especially when they received their names) – but because I wanted my family safe.

Nothing had been more important to me at that point.

Though over the next year, something – someone – would become much more important than anything had ever been before, and that someone had been standing in front of me.

Looking back, it’s quite obvious that I hadn’t known anything at all; I had been naïve. But we all are, in the beginning.

“Master Delouge, I know that I shouldn't speak, but I’m asking you...please, take care of our daughter,” my father had surprised everyone by stepping forward as my mother, allowed a kindness, enveloped me in an all-too-familiar hug, one that I had quickly realized would be ripped from me soon enough. I had heard my mother gasp as I’d looked up from her worn, threadbare coat, and turned my gaze to my father, who was breaking the rules just as much as I would come to as he regarded Sibold with his head held high – though to his credit, Sibold’s back was turned.

“Boy!” Miss Mercy had hissed, and I had flinched, not understanding where her venom had come from, though I’d known by looking at her that she was worried for my father even though she’d been angry. She had been a kind vampire, but a bit old-fashioned, seeing Sibold as her Prince; vampires were very attached to their monarchs, as humans had once been, I would later discover.

I had heard Sibold chuckle, the sound carrying over the wind and the snow, reaching my waiting ears as he had turned and offered Miss Mercy a slight smile, causing her to bow her head; the sound had set my heart to beating even then, though in a different way – it had caused me to hate him even more, this vampire who would take me away. “There is no need for hostility, Miss Mercy. I’m not so young or childish that I would be offended,” he had turned his gaze to me then, the small smile becoming a bit fuller, his hazel eyes warm though calculating. I had glared at him, still clutching to my mother, though she had tried to push me away, ducking her head in reverence. “Your fire seems to have been passed onto your daughter. You should be proud,” these words had been directed at my father, though Sibold’s gaze hadn’t passed onto him until the words had left his mouth, his slight smile turning my father’s way.

My father had the decency to bow his head then, though he hadn’t bowed nearly as lowly as my mother had – showing respect, but not servitude. “Thank you, Master Delouge, I am,” he had said, sounding truly thankful, and that had upset me.

Because in that moment, I had understood finally, fully—

They were giving me up.

Before I had said yes to leaving in order to protect my parents, but with my father’s words I had understood that they were happy to give me up, to send me along with this stranger, to send me to a new life where I would never see them again. The concept of never seeing my parents again had been hard on my six-year-old mind, but I had understood it well enough, seeing the proof in my parent’s faces, in the way that my mother had hugged me so tightly before she’d pulled away, as if relinquishing me; she had never hugged me that intensely before, so that must have meant that she would never hug me that intensely again.

But my anger had quickly drained away, only to be replaced by another, somewhat more intense emotion: grief.

Grief had been a new emotion to me then, because I had never really had a reason to feel it before that point in time, wrapped as I was in my parent’s and Miss Mercy’s proverbial blanket, kept safe from the outside world and all of its troubles, its rules, its horrors. I had known what vampires were, because Miss Mercy was one, but I hadn’t understood the fact that things were still being rebuilt to suit the vampires, and not the humans. I had understood very little about the vampires being Masters, because my parents and Miss Mercy had never let me understand; they had wanted to protect me, but that protection had ended up being cruel, giving me view of a world that didn’t exist.

The truth had started to become apparent the moment that the dragon-man had stepped into the Bright, and the moment that Sibold had arrived – the world definitely wasn’t what I thought it had been, and that truth had become part of me once I’d realized it.

The grief had been so harsh, so new, so raw, that I had hardly been able to breathe as I’d pulled away from my mother, who had still had hold of my hand, her head bowed down as if Sibold might try and strike her, though it was obvious at that point that he wouldn’t, since he hadn’t done so to my father. My mother’s gaze had actually risen a bit, come to meet mine as I’d tugged and then freed my hand from hers, tears already beginning to slide down my cheeks.

I had looked at her in disbelief, and the look she had given back to me had nearly ripped my heart out, it had been so sad, so broken...and yet, so full of hope.

My mother – my parents – had truly believed that they were doing the right thing, but I hadn’t understood that then. In that moment, my whole world had been ripped out from beneath my feet as my mother had stared at me, and I’d stumbled back, tears streaming down my cheeks, my gaze catching my father’s as he turned his eyes towards me as well, the same emotions reflected in his gaze as in my mother’s, though a bit sharper, more determined.

I hadn’t been able to understand the looks in their eyes, and that had caused me to stumble further back – because in those eyes, the main emotion had been hope, not sadness. I hadn’t been able to understand why they weren’t crying, weren’t screaming, weren’t begging for me to stay, even though I had said that I would go; my mother had begged Sibold to forgive me for speaking harshly to him earlier on so why, I had wondered, wasn’t she begging him for me to stay?

Why didn’t she love me enough to try and keep me, to fight?

Why didn’t she love me?

Strangely enough it had been Sibold who’d given me comfort when I needed it most, the vampire I barely knew showing sadness and understanding when my parents could not; this had begun paving the long, hard road to trust between us.

“Don’t be ashamed of tears, little one,” I had heard his voice first, and it had caused me to pause, quickly sucking in a breath of the cold, icy air before I’d felt his hands on the tops of my arms, holding me up; I hadn’t realized that I was close to falling, stumbling as I was. I had craned my neck upwards, tears still streaking down my cheeks, to find him standing hunched over me – so tall, and yet not quite as imposing as before, his small smile sad then, understanding reflecting in his hazel eyes; understanding that hadn’t been in my parent’s gazes, understanding that had shown that Sibold, vampire or not, would one day understand me better than my parents ever had. “Without tears, the greatest of emotions would never be expressed,” his words had confused me, but the kindness in his voice had soothed my soul, because it had been what I was looking for – kindness, understanding.

Even though I’d resented him for taking me away, my opinion of Sibold had grown a little bit brighter that day, had become just a small percentage more endearing.

I had blinked up at him, my eyebrows furrowing as I fought more tears, though he had just told me not to hold them in; I had hardly known what “shame” was, thus my confusion. This had caused him to sigh, his grip on my arms tightening as the rest of the world – the soft murmurs of my parents, Miss Mercy’s nervous sighing, and the rumble of the automobile – had faded away. Then suddenly, faster than I could ever watch, Sibold had knelt in front of me, the happy smile returning to his pale face, though the sadness never left his eyes. He grasped both of my hands, causing my eyes to widen even more at his proximity.

Up until that point, I had never been so close to a vampire – save Miss Mercy, who had often pulled me into hugs, and sat beside me by the fireplace, where she would often talk, and even sing to me. I had seen other vampires before of course, since it wasn’t abnormal for Masters to visit the Bright to pick out the birth parents of the slaves that they would one day have; certain traits were liked by certain vampires, and I had once been told that, previous to the destruction of the human’s reign, there had been science to pinpoint or even create the features of a human child before they were born…but the Masters had chosen to destroy this science, finding it appalling. I had only ever seen the vampires from afar though, Miss Mercy always making sure to keep me in the back where they would never find me.

Strange, I had thought then, how one mistake had led to me staring at Sibold as he’d faced me on my level, noting how beautiful, how unlike Miss Mercy he was; Miss Mercy had been beautiful in her own right, but in a more endearing way, years of hard work apparent though she didn’t age; hard work was what was important to her, though, and that passion had added to her beauty. I had lamented in the fact that, if we hadn’t been sitting by the fire, and the dragon-man hadn’t come to the Bright, I never would have had to leave my parents—

But then I’d remembered the fact that they were giving me up, allowing me to leave without a fight, and my resentment had returned.

Sibold had been kinder in that instance than they had, had better understood my feelings.